#if subjected to multiple different sources of spoken english

[ahalliance]

i can understand why producers would choose to give tintin a ‘standard english’ accent (american for the animated series, british for the movie) but it’s such a missed opportunity to not give him a french belgian one tbh . honestly it’d be even cooler to have said belgian accent influenced by other accents as he travels . i can hear that brussels accent tinted by a SBE one it is literally in my mind as i write this

[mariacallous]

From the order in which members of The Beatles should be listed to the origins of the Pavlova dessert, “edit wars” have dominated Wikipedia, the online encyclopedia, since its inception. Though many of these online discussions pertain to cultural icons and phenomena, some have taken a more sinister turn—especially when it comes to controversial or politically sensitive topics such elections, protests, or wars. This has become particularly apparent in the case of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, shaped by multiple competing and ever-evolving narratives.

Started in May 2001, the Russian-language Wikipedia is among the world’s top six Wikipedia sites and, until recently, has remained a popular source of information in and about the country. However, over the last two decades, it has become embroiled in controversy, largely due to the Kremlin’s state-sponsored disinformation plaguing the platform.

Reliant on government sources and edited by Russian editors, Russian-language Wikipedia pages have often featured pro-Kremlin narratives, especially in relation to Russia’s war against Ukraine. For example, while articles in English have clearly indicated the illegal and disputed nature of Russia’s 2014 annexation of Crimea and its occupation of Donetsk, the Russian-language pages have previously downplayed the role of the Russian military and portrayed Donetsk as a people’s separatist republic (though it has since been changed and is now consistent with the English version).

Another example is the downing of Malaysia Airlines flight MH17. While the English-language version acknowledges that the flight was shot down by the Russian military, which is the international consensus, Russian Wikipedia has called it a “catastrophe” without any attribution of guilt. There are also many inconsistencies having to do with famous historical figures appropriated by Russia, such as those of King Volodymyr the Great or Nestor the Chronicler, both of whom lived in Kyiv.

Over the last two years, Russian courts have fined the Wikimedia Foundation, which owns Wikipedia, several times over content related to Russia’s war in Ukraine. Meanwhile, according to a 2022 report, multiple groups of “sock-puppet” editor accounts, which have coordinated their activity to rewrite pages relating to Russian-Ukrainian relations while using false identifiers. These groups have actively undermined Western and Ukrainian information sources and instead endorsed Russian narratives and state-sponsored media.

Though Russia briefly banned Wikipedia in August 2015, it has now taken its digital offensive campaign to the next level.

Earlier this year, Vladimir Medeyko, the former director of Wikimedia Russia, launched an alternative platform called Ruwiki. The new platform started out as a copy-pasted version of the original Russian-language Wikipedia, exploiting a technicality of Wikipedia’s open-source agreement. Today, the new platform contains up to 2 million articles in Russian, as well as 12 other regional languages spoken in Russia, and is not affiliated with the Wikimedia Foundation.

Unlike the well-established Wikipedia model, in which any user with internet access can create, edit, or update articles, which then undergo rigorous community moderation, Ruwiki works in a different way. While any user can contribute content, it is subject to review by a narrow circle of undisclosed, likely government-sanctioned “experts” to avoid “mistakes” and adjudicate “complex issues.” But it is no secret which issues are considered “complex” by the Kremlin, whose disinformation machine has been working relentlessly to justify its invasion of Ukraine and vehemently deny the war crimes committed there.

Ruwiki is an isolated digital ecosystem that has created an alternate reality. In this version, Holodomor, the man-made famine under Stalin’s rule that killed up to 8 million Ukrainians by some estimates, never happened. Ukraine’s regions of Donetsk, Luhansk, Kherson, Zaporizhzhia, and, of course, Crimea are missing from the country’s internationally recognised administrative map. The 2022 Bucha massacre, in which more than 400 Ukrainians were tortured and killed by the Russian military, is explained as an unverifiable “provocation.” And of course, the platform promotes Russia’s official (wrong) narrative that NATO “provoked” the Russian invasion and that NATO soldiers have participated in the war on behalf of Ukraine.

Ruwiki is the perfect example of the “splinternet”—the fragmentation of the global internet into smaller, divergent, and disconnected spaces. Sometimes, splinters form organically on platforms due to cultural and linguistic preferences of their users. But more often, it is a result of targeted government policies that restrict access to certain websites and services in an attempt to curtail free speech. These measures are often undertaken by authoritarian regimes under the guise of digital sovereignty, ensuring the state’s autonomy and control over its communication and digital infrastructures.

In 2011, Iran’s National Information Network (NIN) project, which envisioned the creation of an absolutely independent online ecosystem back in 2011, is a famous case of digital authoritarianism. Another example is Turkey’s new amendments to the Press Law, which came into effect in 2022. The law increased government control over social media and news platforms and has been dubbed as a “draconian” censorship law by media rights activists and opposition leaders.

Similarly, Russia’s Sovereign Internet Law, adopted in 2019, grants the Kremlin the power to isolate the Russian internet from other countries. The law requires Russian internet service providers to hand over many of their powers to the state, including the ability to directly censor unwanted content and prevent users from accessing alternative ways of seeing banned websites.

While these measures to nationalize the internet might seem benign from the perspective of maintaining technological autonomy, such concentration of power in the hands of the state also comes with an unprecedented ability to surveil its domestic population. Since 2019, the Russian Federal Security Service (FSB) has direct access, complete with encryption codes, to access any messages transmitted via Russian social media platforms or stored on servers located within the country.

These splinternets undermine the idea of a unified and global internet. They create isolated pockets of content that is easy to censor and can only be accessed by users from within the state, thus cutting them off from internationally produced content. As numerous studies show, such fragmentation is a pathway to a rapid deterioration of democratic discourse on platforms that institute it.

Take, for example, Truth Social, former U.S. President Donald Trump’s social media platform, which routinely echoes radical right-wing narratives on immigration, gun ownership, and the 2020 election. Another example is Ukraine’s 2017 decision to ban Russian social media platforms, VK and Odnoklassniki, in the interest of national security, after the platforms had become a toxic cesspool of hate speech, racism, and xenophobia, with well documented calls to rape and murder Ukrainians.

Similarly, in 2022, Russian TikTok blocked all non-Russian content in Russia. Once splintered from the rest of the platform and left unchecked, it became a hotbed of Russian war propaganda.

However, Russian propaganda on TikTok is not limited to its borders alone. Recent research indicates that accounts affiliated with Russian state media, especially Russia Today and Sputnik, have enjoyed a wide international reach, with their content being shared in multiple languages. Once those accounts were flagged by the platform as Russian state-affiliated in 2022, they became inactive and switched to newly created, unlabelled accounts to avoid detection. Another action, which flew under the radar, was Russia’s use of political influencers to sway public opinion in the United States, ahead of its upcoming presidential election.

In light of these disturbing developments, we can reasonably expect to see Ruwiki move along the same historical pathway. Though other countries like China, Turkey, India, and Pakistan have either banned or threatened to ban Wikipedia, Ruwiki’s full control over facts will allow the Kremlin to retell history on its own terms—including denying its war crimes in Ukraine.

This—combined with the targeted destruction of Ukrainian books, the rewriting of Russian school curriculum, and the murder of Ukrainian public intellectuals in Russian-occupied Ukrainian territories—will help Russia justify its expansionist goals and cement its colonial dominance over the region.

This digitally mediated historical revisionism is particularly dangerous in light of the increasing use of the internet as the ultimate source of information, especially among Russia’s youth. Splintered from the rest of the world, they will be coming of age in an alternative Kremlin-manufactured version of reality where “nothing is true, but everything is possible.”

[adragonsfriend]

Reading Random Language Grammar Books…

…in an effort to both diversify my knowledge of language and be a less boring conlanger. The languages chosen have no particular significance, and I'm making notes here as a way to hopefully remember a few features of each. I make absolutely no guarantees that my notes are accurate: these books often contain jargon I am not super familiar with and I continue not to be remotely qualified on the topic of linguistics. Corrections and complications are welcome. I am going to try and remember to include my sources. Anyway…

Uzbek

One sentence construction seems to be subject-object-verb ("U shifokor bo'ladi. - He will be a doctor."), but there also seems to be an alternate way to indicate subject, with a suffix at the end of the verb or object ("Yo'q, o'qimayapman - No, I am not reading it"). These also may both be present ("Men talabaman. - I am a student"). -man may just be a conjugation, and the subject can be dropped, but I also see it as the end of what look like nouns so I think it's more flexible than a conjugation.

"Uzbek is an agglutinative language. In this language words contain morphemes, or suffixes, that are always clearly differentiable from one another. In forming words or sentences, the morphemes are attached to the word stem one after another in a specific order. This process creates words that can be very long and can sometimes correspond to a whole sentence in English" (Nigora Azimova, p. xix). Example: "O'zbekistondanmísízlar - Are y'all from Uzbekistan?" (dan-from, mí-question, síz-you, lar-plural)

^^^ Thinking back, it seems like the creators of the Sith Language, ur-Kittât, were going for a similar way of word/sentence construction.

bor/yo'q ('to have'/'not to have') seem to be used similarly to 是/不是 are in mandarin where they are both verbs and as confirmation/negation. They seem to be multipurpose as verbs in general--bo'l seems to be an element of multiple different tenses/aspects/moods, kind of like "have" in english or "avoir" in French.

Momentary present is "is not used frequently in modern literary Uzbek, and is very rarely used in spoken Uzbek. This form occurs sometimes in the written language and in Ferghana dialects." I'm guessing this means it is more often found in older literary Uzbek? Storytelling tense that has gone out of fashion?

Actually this book makes a bunch of notes about tenses that are mostly written or mostly spoken. And there's a distinction between whether an event is witnessed by the speaker that seems like it has overlap with when you might use passive/active voice and or switch to vague pronouns in English. ("Yangi binolar qurilmoqda. - New buildings are being constructed" or They are constructing new buildings. versus "Men bir soat oldin tushlik qildim. - I had lunch one hour ago.").

mí is a suffix indicating a sentence is a question, but for more complicated questions there must be some other indicators, since mí is not present in " Qanday qilib yozuvchi bo'lgansiz? - How did you become a writer?" My guess is that gan = how-question, since it's in the same placement as i've seen mí.

Sources:

The Uzbek Tense/aspect/modality system,

UZBEK AN ELEMENTARY TEXTBOOK - introduction only

[raibebe]

Invoke

Genre: Mystery? Thriller? Slightly gore? With some fluff? And eventual smut? Words: 13.315 Prompt: Warlock Yuta, familiar Ten, female reader Warnings: mentions of abuse, mentions of death, mentions of religion, blasphemy (our warlock doesn’t like the church and made a deal with the devil), blood, devil summoning, murder with magic, actual murder

A/N: This has a couple of darker themes, if you’re sensitive to any of them, please be careful or just sit this fic out and don’t read it. The abuse is only implied and is not happening to any of the main characters. This seriously went out of hand and holy fuck I love warlock Yuta?? Thank you so much for requesting this @def-sol​! Ruby I loved this idea so much, I hope you enjoyed this. The beautiful moodboard is by @min-inu as always, thank you darling! Another big thank you to @burtonized, Jo you’re the real MVP for listening to me whine all day long.

Warlock: A male practitioner of witchcraft. The word comes from the Old English word wǣrloga meaning “oathbreaker” or “deceiver”. The terms were associated with witches and warlocks as they were seen as someone who made a pact with the devil and thus had betrayed the Christian faith and broke their baptismal vows.

It was a rainy autumn afternoon, the clouds had sunken into the valley your hometown was located in and covered everything in a layer of grey fog, washing away every color. You adjusted the hood of your cloak to shield yourself from the moisture after you stepped out of the little bakery you worked at when you heard the hooves of multiple horses on the beat up street that lead to the little town. Knowing that nothing good ever came from those horseman, you quickly hid the loaf of bread in your ratty coat and headed to the town square. A small crowd had already gathered when one of the knights pulled loose what seemed to be a lump rolled into a cloth from his horse that fell to the ground with a low thud. Only when it started to move, you felt the horror creep up your back. A couple of people quickly scrambled to see what was inside the cloth, even though you all already knew it. Beneath the thick linen, a girl’s face was revealed. You hadn’t known her when the knights had taken her with them just a couple of weeks prior but you could feel nothing but sincere pity for the girl. Her face was unnaturally swollen, her skin more the color of violets than her actual skin tone, blood clinging to her features and she was shivering in the arms of one of the women, completely silent. You turned your back towards her, not wanting to see the state the rest of her body must be in. The last girl that had come back from the royal court had only lasted a week before she had died due to the multiple injuries she had. She also hadn’t spoken a single word. But everyone had known what that men of the court must have done to her in the castle that overlooked the little valley, sitting high up on a nearby hill.

The knights just kept sitting in their saddles, completely unfazed. How could a person be this cold? How could they just follow the orders from their sires to keep taking girls away from their families to bring them back broken and beat, unable to continue to live a normal life? And how was no one doing anything against this? Why were the lords of these lands above the law? Why didn’t the priests do anything with all the power they had? The sight made you sick to the stomach and you couldn’t stand to look at the scene even a second longer, walking back to your home, trying to ignore the screams of the girl the knights must have picked out to take with them. You grabbed the cross hanging around your neck tightly and spoke a prayer to protect the girl from the worst.

That night you couldn’t fall asleep, your thoughts twisting and turning inside your head. Your anger towards the royals only grew more and more with each girl they took with them and you were sick of everyone just accepting their fate. The girls lived in fear that they would be the next one taken and the fathers and mothers were desperate to keep their daughters safe, praying every evening inside the small church. But with every day that passed you lost faith in your god. How could a just god let all of this happen? And the people of the town alone couldn’t do anything to stop this abuse. If they would speak up, they wouldn’t even be able to finish their words because their head would be rolling from their shoulders as soon as they opened their mouths.

Sighing, you rolled onto your back, staring at the holes in the ceiling. You refused to accept that you should patiently wait until the knights unfortunately picked you to take you to the castle where the royals would completely break you, shattering your being to the core. There must be a way to stop all of this. To put an end to the injustice that was happening. When the new lord had been initiated, he had sworn with his hand on the Sacred Scriptures that he would protect the people caring for his lands. If this was what him caring looked like, you didn’t even want to know what it would be like if he was turning a blind eye. It really seemed like you and your town needed some supernatural help or otherwise the royals would just keep playing with the lives of their subjects like they meant nothing.

That was when an idea shot into your head, making you sit up in your bed. After the last girl had come back and the healers of your village hadn’t been able to arrest her bleeding and the prayers of the priests hadn’t helped either, her mother had sneaked away to find a man that lived alone in the woods who was rumored to be gifted with certain powers that allowed him to give and take life. Of course the mother had to do it in secret; if the priests ever found out about that man, he would be burned on the town’s square just like the red haired woman who had wanted to travel through the town. Sometimes you could still hear her screams when the flames ate away her flesh. The next night you had seen a figure wearing a dark cloak sneaking into the home of the family. Curious as to what was going to happen you had sneaked over as well, watching the scene through a crack in the back door: The man had sat down on the bed of the girl and took off his hood to reveal long unruly strands of a red brighter than you had ever seen. He had spoken a couple of words in a language unfamiliar to you, keeping his voice level and his gaze down towards the girl. After a while, the girl had begun to shake and thrash only to suddenly stop mid movement before deflating back onto the mattress. The man then had let out a deep sigh before he put the hood of his cloak over his head again. He only said four words to the parents on his way out: “Her struggle is over.” When the parents ran to the body of their daughter, he had picked up a bundle the father had set up on the desk and left without looking back. That night you could hear the mother cry until the sun crawled over the trees of the forest again and the nature came back to life to cover her pain with beautiful symphonies.  

That man had liberated the girl from her injuries and pain by taking her life just from talking to her. He must have some special powers people attributed to witches and warlocks. He must be powerful enough to help you. And if the family of that girl was able to pay him to use his abilities in their favor (even if it hadn’t turned out how they wanted to), he must also have a price for killing the royals. Or at least send them a warning. You had to find this man and at least try to win him over. As far as you were concerned he might be your only chance to put an end to this.

After a rough night of twisting and turning in your scratchy sheets, you got up more determined than ever to find the mysterious warlock. You quickly got dressed in your warmest cloak and left the house you had rented your room in, sneaking past your snoring landlord who smelled like he had spent his night in the tavern yet again, drinking too much and then lusting after the skirts of women that were way too young for him. You couldn’t help but feel relieved when you left the house and could breathe in the fresh air of the morning. Once your lungs were filled with air smelling like a mixture of freshly cut grass and baked bread, you turned to leave the town. You had no idea where exactly you could find the man. But rumors about him had traveled around the town since the day you were born. Coming to think of it, he seemed to have been around for as long as you could think which didn’t match with how young he had seemed to be when you got that glimpse of him a couple of weeks prior. But the priests always preached that those who had broken their vows and abandoned the right path had many different wicked tricks to disguise their true form.

Mindlessly you followed a trail that lead deeper into the woods and away from the fields where the workers were cultivating different plants both for themselves and for the damned royals. If the priests had never bothered to pay the man a visit, he must live in a place they couldn’t reach, up higher the hill where the paths were narrow and steep. So those were the paths you were taking, paying attention to never lose your footing and keeping your eyes open for anything suspicious.

You were about to give up when the underbrush became thicker and thicker, clearly untouched when you heard the jingle of what seemed to be a little bell. Why would there be a bell ringing in the middle of the forest? Cautiously you listened and crept closer to what seemed to be the source of the noise. It wasn’t long until you found the cause: A small black cat was rubbing its head against a branch in what seemed to be an attempt to get the collar off but it was wrapped too tightly around its throat. “Do you need some help, little one?” You softly asked as to not startle the feline. The cat immediately stopped whatever it was trying to do and stared up at you from big, amber eyes. You carefully approached it and kneeled down, slowly extending your hand towards it so it could see that you meant no harm.  After it carefully eyed you up and down, the cat crawled over to first sniff your fingers before it pressed its head into your palm. Giggling you scratched it behind its ears which earned you a loud purr. “Let me get that collar off of you,” you murmured, carefully tipping the cat’s head so you could examine the leather band the bell was fastened onto. With nimble fingers you undid the intricate knot and the cat could slip out of it. Once it was free, it curved its back and hissed loudly at the little object resting in your palm. “You really didn’t like that bell, huh?” You smiled. “Who do you belong to, little one? I’m looking for a man with red hair. I was hoping he could help me with a problem.” Why were you talking to a cat? It wasn’t like it could understand and lead you to the warlock.

Strangely enough the cat crooked its head as if it was listening to your words and thinking about what it should do. “Do you know him and can take me to him?” You asked carefully, eyeing the cat carefully. It meowed loudly before it got up to disappear deeper into the underbrush. You sighed deeply. Of course the cat had neither understood you nor would it be able to help you. Whether you liked it or not, you might had to ask the family who had lost their daughter where you could find the warlock. It was useless to stray through the forest like this, hoping to stumble upon a house or the man himself. You were about to turn around when another rather annoyed sounding meow tore through the sounds of the forest and a pair of amber eyes looked at you from the bush the cat had jumped into. “Are you trying to help me find him?” You disbelievingly asked the cat who actually rolled its eyes at you. When did a normal cat ever roll its eyes? Could cats even roll their eyes? What was happening? Before your thoughts could spiral any further, the cat made its way through the underbrush again, and you scrambled to follow the black creature, not taking chances of losing it between the bushes and trees.

Soon you reached a clearing the cat eagerly crossed, climbing onto a big stone surface in the grass where it curled up in the sun. Further back between a couple of big oak trees sat a small hut that surely had seen better times. “Where have you taken me?” You quietly asked the cat. Of course it didn’t respond, it just lazily turned its head towards the house where a figure clad in black clothes just emerged, their red hair reflecting the light of the sun that was peeking through the trees. “You little shit!” The person called, clearly a male voice, “How did you manage to get it off?” The cat didn’t even react to the screaming, just stretching its lithe body in the sun. “And who are you?” The man asked when he came closer, his green eyes so piercing it made you shiver. “I- Your cat showed me the way,” you stuttered. “That’s not what I asked, woman.” The warlock angrily crossed his arms in front of his chest and arched one of his eyebrows, waiting for an actual answer to his question. Taking a deep breath, you explained your situation to the man: Beginning with the story of how the knights kept kidnapping girls from your town and in which state they brought them back, if they brought them back at all. Then you told him how helpless the people were, how everyone with a daughter lived in constant fear that she would be next. You told him that you had seen him all those nights ago when he took the girl’s life to rid her from her suffering. Through all of it his face remained blank just the cat got up from where it was curled up, walking around its owner’s feet. “I need your help. We all do,” you ended your speech, “I know it’s within your powers to take lives. We need help getting rid of these royals. We can’t keep living like this, they will keep taking girls until there are no more left and I can’t just watch and wait until they take me. Please, we have no means of doing anything against them.”

“No.” “What do you mean no?” You asked the warlock who had scooped up his lithe cat into his arms and turned to walk back into his house. “I’m not doing it. It’s no use to interfere with royals, they never change.” “But you could help the whole town. We are being terrorized, every week the guards come and take another girl with them and they either never come back or they are so traumatized they can’t even speak about whatever has happened to them and we can only tend to their wounds. I am begging you,” you pleaded but the warlock didn’t turn back around, only his cat seemed to listen who had climbed onto his shoulder, looking at you from its big amber eyes. “I’ll do anything. Take me, take my body, I don’t care. I just don’t want them to break me.” “Anything you say?” The man asked, stopping in his tracks. “I don’t want them to have control over my body,” you whispered, “You can’t do anything worse to me than what the royals are doing to those girls.”

After a beat of silence, the cat meowed loudly, jumping down from the man’s shoulder to walk over to you again, cocking its head as if it was evaluating you. “I’m not going to do it,” the warlock repeated but before you could protest, he turned around again, locking his piercing green eyes with yours, “But I am going to teach you so you can do it yourself.” “It’s not going to be nice or easy,” he continued, looking you up and down once, then twice, “Take that thing off, we won’t need it where we are headed.” He motioned to the cross you had dangling around your neck; your only possession of any worth. “It has protected me from evil up until now,” you protested, closing your fist around it. “Woman. What did the priests tell you where me and my brothers and sisters have gotten our powers from?” The warlock asked, his green eyes almost glowing. You had never heard a man saying the word ‘priest’ with so much hatred and disgust. “They say you’ve made a deal with the... With the devil,” you stuttered. “For once that is a piece of truth that those fat men are speaking,” he snarled, “We are not born with these powers, we have to offer Satan a piece of ourselves in exchange for the powers he grants us with and he won’t be pleased to see that symbol of lies and oppression around your neck.”

For a while you stood still in front of the warlock who had come so close to you that you could count every single chain link on the chain that was hanging from the cartilage of his ear. “How badly do you want to make those good-for-nothing-royals to pay for what they have done?” He spoke lowly, lifting his hand to slowly caress your jaw. You took a shaky breath and met his eyes again. “More than anything in my life.” “Then this shouldn’t be a problem,” he rasped before he grabbed your necklace and ripped it straight off, throwing it into the woods. Shaking off the shock, you quickly followed him and his cat into the little house that seemed to burst from its seams: Herbs, candles and different bones hanging from the ceiling and sitting on almost every available surface.

“Just sit on the sofa and don’t distract me,” the warlock said, starting to rummage through drawers. “Are you going to tell me your name?” You carefully asked after you had sat down on the only free space of the sofa, the cat quickly joining you, “In the town they just call you ‘the outcast’ if they speak about you.” The man snorted loudly. “I like that title but you can call me Yuta.” Yuta. You had never heard that name before. “You aren’t from around here, are you?” “I am not. Not that it is any of your business. I am just going to help you to get your revenge on those royals. Nothing more, nothing less.”

You nodded, idly stroking the black cat in your lap who had started purring loudly. You hadn’t expected the warlock to act like he did. You had come here expecting to bribe him with either money or even your body. It hadn’t fully sunken in that Yuta would turn you into a witch by making a deal with the devil. But you had a mission. You couldn’t just watch another girl getting taken by the knights to become a toy for some royal asshole that would throw her away like a broken shield. You really hoped that the whole process wouldn’t take long. The longer you needed to wait with your revenge, the more girls would get taken and never be the same again.

“What’s its name?” You asked curiously after you had been stroking the cat’s fur for a while. “He’s called Ten,” Yuta answered while grabbing different stones and skulls from the drawers of his giant cupboard that was covering the length of a whole wall. “Like the number?” “He’s the tenth child of a tenth child. Don’t underestimate him just because he looks like a cat.” “But what could he do?” You were confused. “A lot more than your mortal brain could imagine,” a smooth voice answered instead of Yuta’s and it took you a second before you realized it had been the cat who had spoken. “Did the cat just speak?” You squeaked. “I didn’t hear anything,” the warlock grinned and left the room to search for more ingredients. “He did just tell you my name, don’t go around calling me ‘the cat’ now,” the voice spoke again. You looked down to the cat that was curled up in your lap to find him looking right back at you with a stare that should have been way too intense for a mere cat. “How do you do that?” You whispered. “Does he know you can talk?” “You think he would survive out here on his own for years on end if he didn’t have me to talk to?” “But he said he doesn’t hear you.” “Because I am talking to you right now and not to him,” Ten stated as if this was the most normal thing in the world while he was cleaning his fur.

“Don’t believe anything he is telling you. Everything he’s telling you about me is made up,” Yuta said when he came back to the room, a dagger in his hands.  “I sincerely hope you aren’t scared of blood because otherwise this is going to be difficult.” You swallowed dryly, looking at the size of that dagger, but slowly shook your head. Yuta’s green eyes fixated on yours for a couple of moments before he nodded, wrapping the dagger in a cloth with multiple questionable stains. “I’m assuming you have saved your virtue?” You felt the heat rise to your face at his question, never had you met such a man who would ask questions like that so directly and unashamed. “I- I have,” you stuttered, feeling the need to cover your burning cheeks. “That saves us a lot of trouble,” Yuta nodded, grabbing some more things that he had scattered around the house.

“We need to walk for a bit, I am not opening a gate to hell in my garden again. The smell is horrible to get rid of,” the warlock called after he had found everything he needed and had rolled it into a cloth for transportation.   “The smell?” “Have you ever been present at a burning of a supposed witch? That’s the smell. But amplified,” Ten provided from his space on the sofa cushions. “Already scared?” Yuta asked with a smirk on his plush lips when he saw your scandalized expression. “No,” you answered, squaring your shoulders, “I’ll do whatever it takes.” “You better,” he grinned and opened the door of his home, leading you into the forest, further up the hill.

Soon you reached a little clearing where the soil seemed oddly burned where Yuta dropped his bundle of supplies. “You do this here often?” You asked curiously, looking around the area. “Opening a gate to hell? No. But sometimes it is fun to mess with demons,” he answered, winking mischievously, making your heart skip a beat. “Demons are a thing?” “Of course they are,” the warlock giggled, wiggling his eyebrows while pulling a smaller sachet from his makeshift bag, “Just stand in the middle of the burned area and don’t move.”

Nodding you followed his orders and watched him paint a perfect circle around you with the white powder from the sachet. After he had finished the circle, he painted lines through it, creating a pentagram. Satisfied with his work he pulled candles and crystals from his bag next, placing them at the edges of the pentagram and lighting the candles with a mere flick of his wrist. Next he grabbed a skull from his bag, placing it at your feet. “Now to the less comfortable part,” Yuta mumbled, pulling the dagger from its wrappings, “Hold out your arms and don’t move whatever happens. Your innocence is what keeps this whole thing from falling apart.” Slowly you held up your arms and he rolled up your sleeves. You prayed that he wouldn’t notice how you were trying to fight the way your arms were shaking but of course it didn’t slip his sharp eyes. “Nervous?” He grinned. “You are about to summon the literal devil, telling me I am what makes or breaks this ritual. Of course I am nervous,” you stammered, balling your hands to control the shaking. “Cute. Nervous about the ritual and not about losing your humanity for a petty revenge,” the warlock laughed. Before you could reply, he had quickly pulled the dagger across his palm without even batting an eye. “Now brace yourself.” He walked along the perimeter of the circle again, speaking in a language you couldn’t understand, his voice carrying a different weight than before, like he was speaking with multiple voices at once. When he had completed the circle, he closed off his wound with another flick of his wrist before walking towards you, still chanting the foreign words. Once he stood in front of you, he slowly raised the blade, locking eyes with you once before he dragged it over your exposed arms, making your blood seep from the cut.

You bit the inside of your cheek to keep the whimper inside that was trying to fight its way past your lips. You were not showing the warlock any more weaknesses than you already had; you could do this. Yuta kept his eyes to where more and more blood was coming to the surface, watching the droplets come together to drip off your arm. As soon as the first droplet hit the ground, the atmosphere around you changed: There were no more birds singing or wind ruffling through the leaves of the trees and it seemed to have gotten darker, almost unnaturally so, the candles supplying the only light on the clearing. A heartbeat later, the flames shot up high into the air, causing you to flinch. You fought your instinct to turn on the spot to run away. You needed to do this. Needed to do this for the sake of your town’s people. “Relax,” Yuta whispered into your ear, slowly turning your arms so the cuts were facing down, making more blood drop, “The devil is a lot nicer than the priests make him out to be.” You took a deep breath to calm your furiously beating heart which turned out to be a mistake: Your lungs were filled with the smell of burning air and sulfur, the smell so overbearing that you felt like you were suffocating. “Even breaths, in the mouth and out the nose,” Yuta whispered when he sensed your panic, gripping your arms tightly from where he was standing behind you. You squeezed your eyes shut tightly, trying to even out your breathing while the scent of fire and burnt flesh got stronger with each breath you took. “Yuta, I can’t”, you heaved. “You can and you will,” he replied, voice stern, his nails digging into your skin. You tried to focus on the pain he was inflicting on you, the way the cuts stung and the way the blood was seeping from your flesh. You had no idea how much blood you had lost but your head was getting dizzy and your legs weak. “Don’t quit on me now,” you heard Yuta hiss through the fog that started to cloud your brain, “We’re almost there.” His grip on you tightened significantly when a loud crack resonated in the air not unlike to when a strike of lightning had hit its target. If it was possible, the smell only became more potent and the heat the candles gave off intensified tenfold. When you heard a deep rumbling laugh, Yuta turned your arms back around so the wounds on your forearms were facing upward again.

“My lord,” you heard the warlock speak, addressing whoever he had just summoned with the help of your blood. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, it was all too much: the heat, the smell and the stinging in your arms. If you were to see whatever was happening right in front of you, you were sure your brain would either forget how to breathe or how to keep holding your body up. You were already resting most of your weight on the warlock. “You brought me a new lamb,” a deep voice filled the space around you that seemed to come from every direction at once, covering you like a cloud. “Her cause is a noble one.” The voice chuckled. “Ready to give yourself over to me?” When you didn’t reply, Yuta pinched you again and you managed to squeeze out an affirmation even though your throat felt as if it was made out of sandpaper, your voice sounding gravely and foreign to your ears. “It’s over soon, my little lamb,” the voice rumbled, “I take good care of what is mine.” Whatever who you assumed to be the devil did next, filled your body with excruciating pain. It began from the cut in your arms and it felt like he had filled your veins with liquid fire that burned its way through your every fiber, taking over every thought in your brain. A silent scream left your lips and all you could remember before passing out were a pair of piercing green eyes and the smell of sulfur.

When you regained consciousness it was in the comfort of a soft mattress beneath a thick blanket. You carefully blinked your eyes open a couple of times, trying to get the herbs hanging from the ceiling into focus. Once you could make out the little flowers on the branch of lavender, you let your gaze wander. Opposite of you stood a big mirror in front of what you assumed was a closet made out of mismatched wood with intricate carvings. Yuta must have brought you back to his cabin. Which meant that you were currently laying in his bed. The thought made blood rush to your head and you instinctively hid yourself in the softness of the blanket even though no one was around to see you. Like this his smell invaded your senses. It was earthy yet spicy. Dangerous. You sighed and let the smell comfort you, closing your eyes again.

Your limbs still felt heavy but after checking quickly, the wounds on your arms were gone, not even the smallest scar left. How long had you been unconscious for?  With how tired you still felt, it couldn’t have been for long, but the sun that was shining through the curtains told a different story. Outside you could hear birds chirping and if you focused just enough you could hear a cat meowing, probably Ten. Smiling you let your mind wander, letting the sounds of the animals relax you. But while you were counting your breaths to empty your mind, you couldn’t help but think that something was wrong. With every breath you took, you mind didn’t become more empty, instead you were feeling more and more: First it was just the way the blanket was scratching your bare arms and legs. Then you thought you were able to feel the herbs that were strung up to dry above your head. And somehow you could tell that Ten was no longer meowing in the garden, probably talking to Yuta but that he was walking towards the window of the bedroom.

You quickly opened your eyes and sat up straight in the bed just as his paws met the windowsill. “You’re awake,” his voice filled your head. You could just nod, staring at the cat in disbelief. How had you been able to predict that he was jumping into the room the exact moment that he did? “Feeling different yet?” Ten asked on, smoothly jumping onto the mattress. “Not really but you do,” you confessed. From up close he still looked the same but something was different. He felt bigger? Older? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. But what you knew for sure now was that he wasn’t just a talking cat. Yuta had been right, Ten was much more than his body made it seem. “I’m still the same,” he chuckled, neatly folding his tail around his sitting form, “But you certainly are different.” “How can you tell?” “Just take a look at yourself.” Both scared and curious you looked up and met your reflection in the mirror but the eyes that were looking back at you, weren’t your own. Your image in the mirror eyed you with deep emerald green eyes and if the light was not tricking your eyes, your hair had changed color as well. It wasn’t as vibrant as Yuta’s but it was definitely red. “So it is true that witches have red hair,” you mumbled under your breath, raking your hands through your hair to feel the strands. “Most witches have red hair but not all with red hair are witches and warlocks,” Ten confirmed.

Just with Ten before, you had a feeling that Yuta would enter the room before the door moved to reveal his body. “It’s about time you wake up, little witch,” the warlock grumbled. Today he had his hair tied back in a messy ponytail, strands of his unruly hair escaping it and curling at his nape. His piercing eyes scanned over your body quickly before he met yours. “Do you feel them yet?” “Feel whom?” “The energies around you,” Yuta replied as if it was a self-explanatory thing. When you kept quiet and just looked at him from big, unknowing eyes, he groaned and ran a hand over his face. “This is going to be a lot harder than I thought it was going to be.” “It would probably be easier, if you didn’t speak in riddles,” you mumbled under your breath but he must have caught it anyways. “Don’t give me this attitude or you won’t learn anything at all. I might be responsible for you now but I won’t feed you your lessons with silver spoon, you have to work for it. Starting now. Get dressed and meet me outside,” Yuta clarified and turned to left the room but halted in his steps. “And you won’t help her either, Ten. She needs to do this on her own.” Ten just meowed loudly and for some reason you could tell that he did not agree with how Yuta planned on training you. Were this the energies Yuta was talking about?

Once both the warlock and his companion had left the room, you quickly got dressed and headed outside only to find out that you were alone on the clearing. “Come on, this isn’t funny,” you groaned, looking around the house, “I didn’t come here to almost bleed out in a stupid ritual and then to be mocked.” But no one answered you. Yuta and Ten kept hiding. Wait, hiding? Why would they be hiding? Where did that thought come from? You let out a frustrated groan again and sat down on a patch of grass right in the middle of the clearing. “This is stupid, Yuta. I don’t know what to do,” you grumbled, picking at the grass and ripping out little pieces. But that did nothing to calm you down, it only got you more worked up for some reason.

“Take a deep breath and listen to your gut,” you heard Ten’s gentle voice resound inside your head. When you didn’t react and kept ripping out grass, he added: “Yuta is just as stubborn as you, he’ll not come out and I don’t fancy sleeping out here.” “This is so stupid!” You groaned again, letting your body fall back into the grass. When Ten didn’t answer, you took a couple of deep breaths to calm yourself back down. Why were you so irritated anyways? It really wasn’t like you. Closing your eyes, you started to count your breaths to calm your temper. That was when you felt it. Like a flame burning inside you: Bright and flickering wildly. Carefully you reached out to the flame and strangely enough it didn’t burn you, it felt welcome. Like coming home and you couldn’t help but smile. “Are you going to help me find Yuta and Ten?” You whispered. As if the flame was answering, it twitched slightly and calmed down a little. In turn you also felt calmer than you had been seconds ago. Taking another breath, you kept your eyes closed, focusing on the light your little flame shone and from your peripheral vision it seemed like there was another flame. It was a different color and seemed bigger than yours from what you could tell. Opening your eyes again, you quickly got up and walked over into the treeline where you had felt the flame.

“Are you going to throw a temper tantrum every lesson?” Yuta called you out when you had found him, lounging high in a tree eating an apple. You couldn’t fight the heat that crept up your neck, it had been rather childish in retro sight. “You gave me zero instructions,” you tried to rationalize it. “I didn’t have much more to go off from either when I gained my powers,” he argued and jumped down, “So lesson number one.” He patted down his pants once which did exactly nothing for the stains in the fabric before he placed his palm flat on your chest, making your breath hitch. “That in there is your energy. Get to know it. Learn how to read it. It’s where we draw our powers from, where every living being draws their energy from, they’re just not aware of it. If you concentrate and learn how to utilize it to your advantage, you’ll be able to feel other’s energies much more clearly and you will be able to manipulate them.” You nodded along with Yuta’s words even though you couldn’t quite grasp what it all would mean for you. “It’s overwhelming at first,” the warlock smiled, patting your chest before dropping his arm, “But I am here to help as long as you are willing to work with me and not throw a temper tantrum.” “Thank you,” you mumbled, smiling back at Yuta. “It’s thank you, master now,” he grinned. “Now go find Ten, I can tell he’s getting irritated.”

Nodding, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. “His hiding spot is a bit far away, I’ll guide you,” Yuta promised, taking one of your hands in his and you felt warmth spread through your body, comforting you. Smiling, you took another breath. You could do this, if Yuta was there to guide you, you could learn to use your powers.

Over the course of the next days and weeks, you stayed with Yuta and Ten. The warlock taught you how to handle all the new things you were able to feel and how to manipulate the different energies around you. At night while you were lying on the little old mattress Yuta had dug up somewhere, Ten often joined you for some ear scratches and told you stories about old witches and warlocks who had become mad in their hunt for power or about incredible pioneers that had written the big spell books Yuta had yet to show you. You had gotten somewhat close with your master as well but you never quite understood him completely. One moment he seemed like he’d rather be literally anywhere else when you were struggling with molding the energies like he had both explained and showed you and the next moment he told you the most shocking made-up stories only to laugh at your face when you had actually believed him. But since he was the only other human you had contact with in a while, you grew attached to him quickly, always gravitating towards him even when he was doing mandatory tasks like cooking or cleaning (which admittedly wasn’t very often).

One rainy afternoon though, the warlock seemed more grim than usual. He had yet to teach you anything today; he had just asked you to grab a few herbs he was running low on. When you had asked Ten what was going on with Yuta, he had only given you a very cryptic answer before he had disappeared. “Something is different today,” you tried to initiate a conversation when the warlock wouldn’t talk to you while he was stirring something in a small cauldron over the fire. “What makes you think that?” “You haven’t taught me anything yet and refuse to talk to me. Ten is also nowhere to be found and he hates the rain.” “Wrong answer,” Yuta cut you off, “You’re still thinking like a regular human.” “I am still human,” you argued. At that your master just snorted, closing the lid on the copper cauldron louder than he needed to. “You’re so much more than just a human; you just need to finally acknowledge it. You came here seeking revenge on those who wronged your people and who abused their powers.” “And I still want them to pay for what they did to those girls.” “You want them gone.” It wasn’t a question. Yuta locked eyes with you: Piercing green meeting yours that were a little more muted. “They don’t deserve to keep living their lives like that. They need to be taught a lesson.” The warlock slowly nodded before he lowered the heat of the fire with a flick of his hand. “Get your cloak.” “Where are we going?” You asked, slipping on the thick fabric and following Yuta outside.

“You tell me,” he answered, motioning for the forest. “Stop toying with me.” “Use your senses, woman,” he spat, “Figure it out.” Huffing in annoyance, you closed your eyes, concentrating on your own energy that swirled inside your chest, feeling it like a small flame before you turned your eyes outward, feeling Yuta’s energy right next to you. His flame was bigger and seemingly less controlled than your own, a little deeper in color and burning hotter than yours. “Stop spying on me,” he spoke lowly, sounding almost amused. Slowly you expanded your sight, feeling the animals hiding from the rain beneath the leaves of the trees and in little caves, feeling the power of the stream that lead into the valley, feeling... Feeling something that was not right. “What is that?” You asked, trying to pinpoint where this energy was coming from. “You tell me,” Yuta spoke lowly, careful to not break your concentration. “Something isn’t right. Near the stream.” The warlock hummed, slowly approaching you to place a hand on your shoulder. Bit by bit you could feel the warmth of his powers mingle with your own, sharpening your senses, his energy guiding yours in the right direction. The uneasy feeling in your stomach only intensified but the comforting warmth of your master made you push further, looking for the source. “See it now?” “It’s a man,” you gasped, your senses almost recoiling when you found him. He was unlike any energy you had ever felt before. His energy felt off, you couldn’t quite describe it. “How does he feel?” Yuta’s low voice calmed you down again, encouraging you to look closer. “Wrong. Something is not right about him. His energy is small but it feels like it’s too warm. Like he’s about to burst.” “Do you know where he is?” “Near the bridge that leads to my town.”

“Alright,” Yuta spoke, sounding content with your analysis and you could feel his energy leave you, signalizing you to come back to the little house as well. Slowly you blinked your eyes open. “What is wrong with the man?” “He is not a good man,” your master spoke, “We’re going to kill him.” You wanted to protest, to tell him that you couldn’t just kill a man. But something, maybe a voice in the back of your head, told you that you could. And more importantly that you should. Wordlessly you followed Yuta to the path that would lead you towards the bridge.

“Remember what I told you about energies when you first felt them?” “We can neither create energy out of nowhere nor can we just make it disappear. We can just change the nature of the energy,” you recited dutifully. “And what does that tell you?” “We can’t rule over life and death.” “Not exactly,” Yuta agreed. “But you took that girl’s life when you came to heal her,” you argued. “I used up all the energy her body had left in it to heal the wounds that were hidden beneath her skin. I killed by healing her. After all her energy was used up, her heart stopped beating just like that.” “Is that what you’re going to teach me?” “No. that man’s body is healthy as far as I could tell,” Yuta shook his head, halting in his steps so you could meet his eyes again. “You might recognize him when we meet him. I need you to keep a level head and do exactly as I say or you might never get the revenge you want to get so badly.” You throat suddenly felt dryer than it had ever been and you tried to swallow down the feeling of fear that had begun to crawl up your spine.

“Swear that you’re going to do as I say,” Yuta pushed, holding out one of his arms. From what Ten had told you, Yuta was asking you to make an oath and those were not to be taken lightly. But you trusted Yuta. You trusted your master. He might have questionable methods to teach you certain things but he was a capable and strong warlock. Nodding, you held out your hand as well and he forcefully grabbed your forearm which you quickly copied. You could feel energy coming off of him, weaving around where you two were connected. “Say it.” “I swear I will do as you say as soon as we meet this man,” you said, your voice sounding deeper than it usually did, carrying a weight it only did when you tried to cast a spell. “And I will in turn swear to protect you and guide you through what we’re about to do,” Yuta promised, squeezing your arm tightly before his energy recoiled and he loosened the grip. “You’re going to make me kill him,” you breathed into the silence that stretched on. “I will,” he confirmed and turned around to keep making your way towards the strange man.

To say you were absolutely terrified was an understatement, your heart was hammering wildly inside your chest and you were sure Yuta must feel how unruly your energy was becoming. “Calm down,” he spoke, “Once you see him, you will feel differently.” “Can’t we start with something a little less drastic?” You pleaded. You weren’t ready for this. “What use does it have? You have learned everything you need to know about manipulating energies. The energy in humans is no different than the energy in a fire or in a plant and you’re doing well manipulating those. You’re ready for the next step.” “Yuta, I can’t,” you begged, swallowing down the taste of bile you suddenly had in your mouth. “You can and you’re going to,” he replied, a tone of finality in his voice, “Now be quiet, we’re almost there.” You had half a mind to scream so the man would run away when there wouldn’t be this voice in your head telling you that this man was no good. Taking a deep breath, you quickly followed your master until you arrived at the bridge, hiding between the bushes.

“He’s not far,” Yuta promised, “I’ll explain it once, listen closely: You will wait for him on the bridge. Make him stop so it’s easier for you to get a grasp on his energy. Just like you do it when you’re putting out a fire, you’re going to tug. Expect resistance because while every energy has the will to exist, human energy usually resists a little harder than just fire.” “What am I going to do with his energy?” You asked, proud that your voice wasn’t breaking. “It’s going to be a lot more energy than you can hold unlike with fires. You need to release it. Find something you can direct it to.” You bit your lip and nodded shakily. Sensing your discomfort, Yuta reached out and grabbed your hands in his, rubbing soothing circles with his thumbs. “I’m right behind you. I swore to protect you. If you fail to redirect it, I’ll do it before it eats you alive. But I do not want you to not try. Keep a level head.” Taking a couple of beep breaths, you tried to calm down. Yuta must have his reasons he wanted you to kill this man. He wasn’t unjust. You trusted your master. “Now go out there and wait for him. Maybe stretch your senses to find something to redirect the energy to,” he smiled, making your heart flutter for completely different reasons.

Following your masters orders, you stepped out onto the bridge, pulling your hood further into your face so it would be obscured to the man and briefly stretched out your senses like Yuta had suggested. You could feel the weird energy of the man approach, accompanied by another energy that might belong to his horse. Other than that you couldn’t feel much. The safest way was probably to redirect the energy to the water flowing in the stream. You couldn’t think about any other possibilities because the sounds of hooves approached quickly, revealing the horseman. He abruptly stopped his horse when he saw you blocking his path. “Move!” He yelled but you didn’t budge. In fact you were frozen in place when you recognized the man.

He was one of the knights of the king. But not just any knight. Images from summer flashed your mind: The man had stayed at the inn when it was too late to make the travel back to the castle after he had laughed at the girl he had brought back. In the inn he had drunk enough for three men and boasted about what a great lover he was and that the women could never get enough of him. You felt rage rise inside you. This man was rotten to the core. Yuta had been right, he had no rights to live a comfortable life after he had destroyed the life of so many girls and women. “Move!” He called again but you stayed right where you were, slowly lowering your hood so he could see the dark red color of your hair. “A little witch bitch,” the knight spat, dismounting his horse, a big grin on his face, “The lord will be delighted when I bring you to him.” “You disgust me,” you growled, feeling your energy burn brighter inside you, itching to rip the rotten flame from this poor excuse of a man. Behind you, you could feel Yuta’s own energy shift but you paid it no mind. He wouldn’t interfere. This was your test.

The knight slowly approached you, step after step and you could already smell that he reeked of alcohol. “Stop right there,” you demanded, focusing on his energy. Against your expectation he actually halted in his steps before he started to laugh at you. That was it. You wouldn’t allow him to harm another person anymore. Determined, you reached out with your own energy, gripping his firmly and tugging just like you had learned it. The man promptly choked on his laugh, clutching his chest tightly, looking at you with wide eyes. His lips moved with silent pleas and it only made you feel more disgusted than you already were. How did he have the audacity to beg for forgiveness after all he had done? “You disgust me,” you spat before you tugged for a last time, feeling how the energy separated from his body that limply fell to the ground. A great sense of satisfaction filled you and you couldn’t fight the laughter that bubbled from your chest. You could feel his energy course through and around you, seemingly growing now that it wasn’t trapped anymore, latching onto your body as it was the closest living thing. The feeling was indescribable. To feel this much energy coursing through you was incredible but after a moment you knew that you couldn’t hold it, the foreign energy trying to force itself inside you alongside your own energy.

Redirect. You had to redirect it before it ate you alive. Your eyes flickered from the trees to the end of the bridge to the sky above you, covered by dark storm clouds. Without thinking too much, you balled up your own energy, giving the foreign one a firm push upwards, forcing it out of your body and towards the clouds instead. Like a thread that suddenly snapped, the energy left you, making you stumble and fall to the ground.

A loud rumbling noise could be heard from above and you knew that you hadn’t made the smartest decision with where you had redirected the energy to. The next thing you felt was a firm chest that you were pressed against and the smell of burning wood and static filling the air. “My little apprentice,” Yuta whispered fondly, gently cupping your cheek. His green eyes were sparkling and if you didn’t know better, you would say that he looked proud of what you had done. “Did I do good?” You asked, looking around his shoulder to see the damage on the bridge. A flash of lightning must have hit it exactly where you and the man’s corpse had been just moments prior, the wood now black and burning. “You did better than I had ever whished for,” Yuta answered, pressing your shivering body tightly against his chest, whispering words of praise into your hair as the reality of what you had just done came crushing down to you, making your body shake with the sobs you let out. You hated yourself for crying. But you weren’t crying for the man. He had deserved what had happened to him. You were crying because it was you who had done it. You weren’t just a human anymore and Yuta had forced you to accept it. You weren’t what was considered normal. You had special powers now, dangerous powers and the only other person that could ever understand and shared the weight that came with those powers was holding you in his arms right now.

“Let’s go home,” Yuta gently spoke, pressing a kiss to your hair and you could only nod and try to not get lost in his eyes when he loosened his grip on you.

“You’re ready.” Puzzled you looked up from where you were reading in one of the big spellbooks in the armchair in front of the fire, Ten curled up in your lap. “You’re ready to get your revenge. You know all you need to know,” Yuta explained himself, crossing his arms in front of his chest where he was leaning against his kitchen counter. When you still couldn’t find the words to tell your master how you were feeling, he continued: “It’s not far to the castle from here. The lord is having a banquet in the evening; all of the royals will be gathered. It’s a great opportunity. You shouldn’t miss it. Ten can show you the way.” “You’re not coming with me?” You asked in a small voice. As much as you still wanted the royals to pay, you had thought that Yuta would help you when it came down to get your revenge. The castle was filled with guards and knights after all. How were you supposed to get in and out of there without being seen? Especially when your plan was to kill the rotten men in charge. “I told you I wouldn’t kill anyone for you. I promised to teach you everything you needed to know so you can get your revenge. And I have done that. There is much more to our powers than just this but I did what I promised and now it’s time for you to do what you need to do.” Before you could argue or voice your concerns, Ten stretched his body in your lap so he could glare at Yuta, a disapproving sound leaving his throat. “Shut up, cat,” Yuta just growled when Ten wouldn’t stop complaining, angrily hissing by now. “I don’t care what you think,” the warlock exclaimed, throwing on his cloak, “Take her to the castle.” After taking a deep breath, he turned to lock eyes with you, a sad smile playing on his lips and added: “Make me proud my little apprentice.”

With that you were left alone in Yuta’s house that had become your home as well. You couldn’t understand the words he had just said. He was throwing you out. Had it all just been this to him and nothing more? Was he just trying to fulfill his promise all these weeks? Did you mean nothing to him? “He is a headstrong idiot,” Ten sighed, his smooth voice like honey for your soul, “You belong here with us and he will realize that eventually.” “Thank you,” you whispered, scratching Ten behind his ears until his purring filled the silence of the room. “And I am not just saying that because Yuta can’t seem to get that spot right there,” he added. You couldn’t hold your giggle, fondly smiling at the cat that you had gotten so close with. “He is right about you being ready though. We should leave soon.” “I have no idea how I should get in and out though. The place must be bursting with guards,” you voiced your concerns. “You would be surprised by how careless the royals are sometimes, they think they’re invincible.” Taking a deep breath, you felt out your own energy, feeling your fire burn brighter with excitement that you could finally give the royals what they deserved. “I’ll show them just how vulnerable they still are,” you said, your voice sounding more determined than you could have wished for. “That’s my girl,” Ten cheered you on, jumping from your lap onto the floor. “I’ll bring you to the castle but I won’t be a big help in this body.” You just nodded, gathering some things you had wanted to take with you: A couple of charged gems and the little dagger Yuta had given you a while back with a slender blade but sharpened to perfection. Lastly you got your cloak to conceal your red hair and green eyes that were a dead giveaway of your true nature. “Ready?” Ten asked, waiting for you outside. “As ready as I’ll ever be,” you answered, following the creature inside the forest.

When the castle came in sight, you said your farewell to Ten, squeezing his lithe body against your chest to his great dismay. Many people were bringing different things through the big gates and carriage after carriage brought in more supposedly rich and important people. For a while you just leaned against the big walls that surrounded the castle, feeling out the different energies. Of course there were the ordinary energies from the servants and most of the guards that were patrolling mostly on the high walls but the deeper you felt inside the castle, the more rotten energies you could feel, making you sick to the stomach. Your rage was only fueled when you carefully made your way into the courtyard and you could feel distressed and terrified energies further into the castle as well, some of their flames so terrifyingly small that they must belong to some kidnapped girls who were barely holding on to their life.

Waiting for a chance to slip into the more private rooms of the castle, you watched the servants scrambling around behind their masters who for the most time either ignored or scolded them and when a lady screamed at a little boy who had tripped and let some of the stuff he had been carrying drop to the floor, you couldn’t help yourself but to give her energy a quick push only enough to make her heart stutter once before she lost her footing and fell herself. The secret smile the boy quickly hid behind a blank expression was enough thanks for you.

“When is this fortune teller coming around?” One of the guards suddenly asked another one who had just come out of the castle. “She should have been here since the morning and the lord is getting restless, he is snapping at every servant who is coming into his chambers.” A fortune teller? That seemed almost too perfect to be true. Pulling your hood further into your face, you slipped from the shadows and made your way towards the guards. “Good afternoon,” you greeted the guards, honey dripping from your voice, “The lord of this castle sent for me, he wished to know about his future.” The older of the guards slowly let his gaze wander over your form before he reached out a hand to lower your hood. “Don’t,” you hissed, taking a step back. “Come on, leave her alone,” the younger groaned, “I can’t take the lord’s bad mood anymore.” The older one gave you one last once-over before he deemed you no threat and shrugged his shoulders. “You bring her to him, I’m going to the kitchens.”

If you had known how easy it would be to see the lord, you wouldn’t have been this nervous before entering the castle. “Wait in here for him,” the guard told you after he had dropped you off in a small saloon that was just filled with a big sofa and a vanity that displayed big jewels. In the middle of the room stood a small table with a crystal ball on top and you could only barely hold in your laughter. The only problem with this room was that there was nothing you could redirect the lord’s energy to once you had killed him. No fire or plants. This was anything but ideal. Hastily you sat down in front of the crystal ball when you felt the lord approach. You needed a different plan. Either you needed to let this perfect opportunity pass and try to kill him later or you had to do it without your powers. Suddenly the dagger in your pocket felt like it was as heavy as a bag of stones, the handle digging into your hand. You couldn’t let this opportunity pass. You had to take it. Even if it meant that you had to kill him like this. You could do this. This was no different than the guard you had killed.

When you felt the energy of the lord approach, you took another deep breath, searching out your energy for comfort. “Leave us alone,” the lord’s voice commanded the guard who had lead him inside and just like that you were alone with him in the room. You had never seen the lord in person and you didn’t know what you had expected but you thought that his appearance suited his energy: He was a rather small man with greasy black hair. His stomach was rounded and he smelled like he had bathed in perfume to gloss over how bad he smelled. “Finally you are here,” he spoke and even his voice was unattractive, his tone nasally and off pitch, likely from too much alcohol. You just wordlessly nodded your head, not deeming him worthy for words of greetings either. “Sit down so we can get started.”   “I don’t like your attitude woman,” he snarled, looking down at you from his reddened eyes, “You are different than the last one that came.” “I have my special ways to see what the future holds for you,” you simply answered, dragging your dagger from your pocket and placing it onto the table. At that the unruly eyebrows of the man shot up. “Are you threatening me?” “I would never dare to,” you gritted, fighting the sarcasm from creeping into your tone, “But nothing is purer than what your blood could tell me.”

The lord seemed to think about your words for a while, if he was even capable of that. But his energy seemed to calm down after a while when he sat down opposite of you. “Very well,” you smiled, pulling out a couple of the gems you had and placed them on the table, “Please hold your palms up.” When the lord did as you asked, you took a deep breath and willed your hands to not shake when you were grabbing for the dagger. It was rather small in comparison to Yuta’s favorite ones but it should do its job just as good as any other dagger he had in his collection. You really hadn’t thought all of this through. But you needed to do this. For all the girls living on this lord’s lands. You weren’t close enough to him to hurt him much with the dagger and if you weren’t quick enough and he’d sense your true intentions, he would call for the guards. And when you had nowhere to redirect their energy to, you were basically helpless.

“I don’t have all day,” the lord complained when you hadn’t moved after a while. “I was concentrating on your energy, you disgusting piece of shit,” you spat out, making an on-the-spot decision to stop the charade. Quickly, before he could even completely fathom your words, you gave his energy a push to render him breathless for a while which gave you just enough time to leap over the table to ram your dagger into the fat of his neck. With a furiously beating heart, you watched his eyes widen and his throat gurgle with the blood that was flowing into his lungs and seeping from the wound when you pulled your dagger back out. Unable to move your body, you watched him convulse in pain until he stopped moving altogether, his eyes open wide and unseeing. Slowly you could feel his flame getting smaller and smaller until you couldn’t detect it anymore. You had done it. The lord was dead.

Just like the last time when you had killed, the reality came crashing back down to you after the adrenaline had seeped from your body and you felt your hand shaking that still clutched the dagger tightly. When you looked down and saw it covered in the lord’s blood, you instinctively let the dagger fall, the noise unnaturally loud in the silent room.  Your breathing picked up and you felt panic rise in your chest. How were you going to get back out of here? You were drenched in blood and people would surely start to miss the lord soon. Yuta had been wrong, you weren’t ready for this. Bile rose too your mouth and tears were collecting in your eyes. You were done for; they would burn you in the courtyard while laughing at you for your foolish plan to take all the rotten royals out.

“My little apprentice,” a voice said behind you and through your tears you looked up into Yuta’s familiar face. “What are you doing here?” You sobbed, balling your blood smeared hands to fists, your nails digging into your palms. “I thought you had left me.” “Watching out for you, what else?” He smiled, pulling you away from the lord’s corpse and against his chest, not minding that you were staining his cloak with blood. His calming energy engulfed you like a cloud and slowly evened out your own untamed energy and eventually helped you to even out your breathing. “There are a lot more people here than I expected,” you mumbled when your tears had stopped falling, growing basically boneless in Yuta’s hold. “We’re going to take care of them together,” Yuta promised, pressing a kiss to your hair before he loosened his hold on you and took a look around the lord’s room, picking up some of the expensive looking jewelry that was laying around.

“The banquet has already begun,” you spoke after you had felt out the remaining rotten energies, all bundled up in the big hall, “They will become suspicious if he’s not coming down soon.” “I have always had a thing for dramatic entrances,” the warlock grinned, loosening his cloak so it fell to the ground, “How about we interrupt this boring dinner they are having right now and heat this place up a little? There is this nice little fire in the fireplace to keep them warm but I feel like it could use a little more energy.” His words made you mirror the wicked grin that had started to spread on his lips. “Lead the way,” you spoke, ready to teach all the rotten royals a lesson. With Yuta by your side, you knew that you couldn’t fail.

Together you stood in front of the burning castle, a little further up the hill and hidden by trees, listening to the people screaming in agony. When you turned your head to look at Yuta, the orange flames of the fire beautifully illuminated his features despite the ashes that were clinging to his cheeks and the fact that he was missing half an eyebrow that must have gotten burned off, his lips crooked into a cocky grin. “Nothing more beautiful than the chaos some little flames can cause,” he spoke before he tore his gaze from the castle and looked at you instead. Tenderly he reached out to wipe the splatters of blood on your cheeks away, just smearing them further onto your skin in the process. “You look beautiful like this,” he whispered, his green eyes sparkling dangerously. “I’m a mess,” you argued, feeling how the blood on your hands was slowly drying. “The most beautiful mess I have ever seen.” Before you could argue any further, the warlock connected your lips in a bruising kiss, pressing your body close to his. He tasted of smoke, blood and danger but to you it tasted like the most intoxicating drink you ever had the pleasure of tasting.

“What are you doing, Yuta?” You breathed against his lips when his hands had slipped beneath your shirt, nails raking over the skin of your stomach. “Unleashing your full powers,” he groaned, all but ripping the garment over your head before roughly connecting your lips again. “What do you mean?” “Stop asking so many questions,” the warlock growled, sucking harshly on the skin of your neck, obviously not bothered by the blood clinging to your skin. You could just mewl and desperately clutch onto him, afraid your legs would give out. Once Yuta was satisfied with how dark the mark on your neck had turned he gripped your hair to yank your head back so he could kiss you again. Still high on the adrenaline from before, you shamelessly moaned into his mouth when he kept your strands of hair in a firm grip to angle your head just how he wanted. Grinning against your lips, he used his chance to slip his tongue between your parted lips, turning the kiss downright filthy. “Yuta,” you sighed when he parted from you, both of you panting heavily while staring into each other’s green eyes. Blood was smeared onto both of your faces now and you had stained his shirt with the blood clinging to our hands. “Tell me you want this,” he whispered, his hands wandering to where the wrappings around your chest were fastened, “Tell me to unleash your full potential, my little witch.” Before you could answer, he leaned in to steal another kiss while he tugged on the cloth that had kept your breasts covered. “You don’t even know how fucking hot you are like this,” he groaned against your lips, roughly grabbing your boobs to massage the soft flesh, sending sparks of pleasure down your spine. “Do it,” you moaned, arching your back towards the warlock, “Do it, Yuta.”

A deep growl came from his chest and with quick movements he rid himself of his singed shirt and stepped out of his pants to stand before you completely naked safe for the ashes and blood clinging to his skin. His cock was already hard and hanging heavy between his legs. With a dangerous smile on his spit slicked lips, he crowded you against the trunk of a tree, the bark digging roughly into your back. With only so much as a flick of his wrist, the warlock had you naked as well and raked his widely blown eyes over the exposed skin. “My little witch, so beautiful,” he rasped, pressing his lips to the mark he had created on your neck, making you hiss in both pain and pleasure. Chuckling he grabbed one of your thighs to wrap it around his waist, exposing your most private part to him. But before you even had time to think about what you were about to do and how improper it was, Yuta had snaked a hand between your bodies to cup your sex, slowly grinding the heel of his palm in your clit which tore a loud moan from your lips that mingled with the screams you could still hear in the distance.

A grin spread on Yuta’s lips when you threw your head back and moaned unashamed when one of his fingers played around your entrance, teasing but never slipping inside, making more and more wetness seep from your core. “You want it?” He asked, pinching the skin of your thigh that he still held tightly to get your attention. “I already told you to do it,” you whined, grinding your hips in an attempt to finally make his finger slip inside you. “When will my little apprentice finally learn to answer my questions properly?” He sighed, bringing his hand down on your wet folds, creating a wet slapping noise that brought blood to your face. The mixture of pain and pleasure made your head swim even more than the adrenaline had minutes ago. “Answer your master,” Yuta growled, bringing his hand down a second time, causing you to jolt in his hold. “Do it already,” you groaned, burying your hands in his unruly red hair to kiss him again, wasting no time to lick into his mouth. If anything you were a fast learner and tried to match Yuta in the kiss. While you were distracted with kissing the life out of him, he finally slipped one of his fingers inside you, making you gasp and break the kiss. “Feels good?” He grinned as he began to move his finger at a steady pace before quickly adding a second one, stretching you out. “Yeah, feels good, master,” you breathed. You could feel Yuta’s breath hitch against your lips before he let out a row of colorful curses, speeding up the motion of his fingers. “Say it again,” he growled. “Say what again?” You hiccupped, holding onto his shoulders tightly, the pleasure making your head swim. “Call me your master,” the warlock growled, crooking his fingers inside you so you saw stars behind your eyes, punching all air from your lungs. “Master, please,” you choked out, burying your nails in his shoulder to drag them down his back, leaving angry red lines and a trail of smeared blood.

Cursing, Yuta pulled his fingers from your core, making a distressed mewls leave your lips. He just chuckled breathlessly at your reaction but before you had the time to even feel ashamed, you felt the blunt head of his cock slip inside you, the feeling so foreign and overwhelming that you had to close your eyes. Yuta slowly pushed inside deeper and deeper until your bodies were as flush together as the position was allowing you to. “Fuck you’re squeezing me so tightly,” Yuta cursed and breathed heavily into your ear. You could only mewl instead of answering properly; you had never felt like this in your entire life. You felt your energy bounce around wildly in your chest, slowly expanding and turning deeper in shade. But before you had any chance to take a closer took, Yuta pulled his hips back and thrust right back into you, pulling loud moans from both of you. “You feel it?” He groaned, slowly picking up his pace, “Feel how your powers grow?”

“I couldn’t care less about any of my powers right now,” you whined, yanking Yuta close by the hair on his nape to crash your lips together to stop yourself from moaning out loudly. “So feisty,” he breathlessly chuckled against your lips, “Hold on tightly.” In a heartbeat he had twirled you around to lay you down into the grass instead. Watching your expression closely, he thrust back inside you, causing you to moan loudly with how deep he was inside you now. The feeling was so overwhelming that you clamped your thighs tightly around his frame and threw your head back with a loud moan. “That’s it, let me hear you,” the warlock moaned, caging you between his arms before he started to move his hips in quick thrusts that made stars spark behind your closed eyelids. You didn’t have any brainpower left to even remotely feel embarrassed by how loud you were being, instead digging your fingers into Yuta’s shoulders to pull him back down into a messy kiss that was more tongue and panting into each other’s mouths than anything else.

“Look at me my little witch,” Yuta panted when his trusts were getting erratic and you felt like the energy inside you was ready to burst and explode in thousand little stars. Just when your emerald eyes met his piercing gaze and you saw how his eyes were filled with so much more than just lust, you couldn’t help yourself anymore and let go of the coil inside your stomach, letting the pleasure overwhelm your body while moaning your master’s name. Seconds after you heard Yuta moan your own name while he pressed inside you for one last time, his back arched and lips parted. Around you, the air was buzzing with energy, almost singing with how potent it was. For a while you just looked at each other, breathing heavily, silly smiles on both of your lips before Yuta leaned down to connect them in a tender kiss.

“You two disgust me,” a familiar voice suddenly broke the delicate silence but this time it wasn’t inside your head. When both Yuta and you looked to the side, you saw a slender man with jet black hair sitting in the grass not far from you, looking back at you with familiar amber eyes. “But I can’t say I hate what you managed to do,” Ten added, looking at his delicate hands. “Go stare at some other people fucking, you creep,” Yuta growled, covering your body with his. “But I finally had something different to see than you sadly beating your meat or trying out questionable spells,” Ten teased, poking out his tongue. “If you don’t leave right now, I will find a way to trap you inside a frog next time.” “I’d love to see you try, honey,” Ten laughed before he actually left to give you some privacy.

“This is so embarrassing,” you mumbled into Yuta’s chest where you had hidden your face that must have the same color as his hair at this point. “Don’t mind him,” Yuta smiled, kissing your forehead, then your nose and both of your cheeks before pecking your lips. “I can’t look Ten in the eyes anymore,” you groaned, making the warlock laugh. “Let’s not talk about him when I’m still inside you,” Yuta whispered, grinding your hips together to prove his point. “Let’s make him wait for a bit longer.”

[beautifulpersonpeach]

English and Dynamite

(This is a submission from @ichwillkeinenblognurlesen titled English and Dynamite. I'll say what I think at the end in italics, after the line break.)

I loved the answer you gave to the fearful anon about RM and the conection to HYBE.

But I still think the connection of Dynamite "targeting" the US market because it is in English is BS. Sorry. Elliot Sang has a vid on youtube "why fans love suffering artists" that touches also on this but I'm formulating this different as that essay had another target idea.

What language do you think they speak in Malaysia? How about Indonesia? Or how about the growing market in Brazil (thank you Brazilian Army! You are brilliant!)? It is not Korean. But English as a second language... you may have heard the phrase "lingua franca". That is a language people use when they do not speak each others language. But with a bit of luck they both now another language the other does, too.  English is most often because of historic reasons widespread as a second language. I read an article on Koreabo of a person who works for an Idol label and he talked about why the artist are learning English and he apologized to the US fans as he pointed out the other growing markets. (India is I believe the country with the second (?) biggest population) If the artists had to speak well in the language of every country they give concerts in the group would need more members than NCT and all multilanguage. Not likely. So English (and Japanese) and maybe a few words i the local language it is,

I went to a mathematical/exact science school after elementary but I did not get the choice if I wanted to take English as a subject. I nearly failed the year as I'm very bad at learning languages. My sister got her first lessons in elementary.

You will find that on social media the most spoken language is English: It is used for Tourism, Big Business, Influencers, sometimes in Universities for lessons. The English songs did well in SK, India and Japan and other countries. In fact a Dynamite remix, Butter and PTD are still charting on Melon.

Dynamite did not target the US market. Their specific rise there was a bonus. They hoped to reach a large audience. RM probably did it for multiple reasons: Army did need to know how beautiful life is because of the covid reactions in a lot of countries. But he was also asked because the success (and that it would be was a given) showed stability which they needed with the postponed tour, the coming enlistment and the first-time of selling stocks (that was to do something with weverse; people do not really understand stocks and how they work or that it is imaginary money till you sell them). I think Hybe maximizes the profit from the natural output of the label/artists. They are the coporate part of multiple labels and can so steamline the process (we already know that neither Source nor Pledis are good with that; and Zico seems to have been overtaken a little)

That the success was overwhelming we see in Jin's birthday song that year "Abyss" and it's explanation.

Thank you for your hard work!

You nice! Keep going! 💜

I hope I have done that right? The asks seem to have so little space so if I have done this wrong: I'm sorry (I am so new to tumblr)!

*

Hi and thanks for sending in the submission. (As an FYI to everyone else, submissions are an alternative to really long asks or statements.)

You disagree with me saying BTS released Dynamite to target the US market and you’ve made very good points to support that. You think that by making an English song, BTS were not necessarily targeting the US market, but the global music market in general. I think you're right and that's very possible.

I think it's also possible that it's a bit of both: that they targeted the US market as well as an expanded global footprint. Who knows?

Either way, I appreciate the effort you put into this. Stick around. 💜

[gowoshusoul]

Fanmade SCP: 6760; a friend in the shadows

Item #: SCP-6760

Object Class: 

Containment: Euclid Esoteric

Secondary: (No previous secondary) Thaumiel 

Disruption: Keneq Dark

Risk: Critical Notice 

Addendum-6760-3:

SCP-6760 has not shown any signs of aggression since the initial incident, when researcher ███████ unfortunately lost his life due to his own negligence. His aggression toward SCP-6760 was uncalled for and unprofessional. 

I understand the apprehension toward working with 6760, but through testing, experiments, and therapy, it has been successfully rehabilitated and shows unwavering loyalty to the Foundation. It remains hesitant to interact with any staff not associated with myself and my assistant. Caution and patience is encouraged when interacting with SCP-6760, though it has shown no aggression toward humans after the initial incident and has expressed a fascination with mankind. It’s for the best that 6760 is allowed to explore and observe Foundation staff, as knowledge of its surroundings keeps it from lashing out in its confusion. 

Many of you know, SCP-6760 was instrumental in securing site ██ after its disastrous containment breach. I’ve consulted with my colleagues and higher ups, and we came to the unanimous conclusion that 6760’s anomalous properties should be utilized in the case of future breaches.

I understand that this is a controversial decision, and I understand that 6760 could pose a threat to aggressive personnel. Think of it as a police dog: If you give him no reason to attack you, or me no reason to initiate an attack, you will not be harmed. Feel free to contact me with any concerns you feel need addressing, and we will work together to secure, contain, and protect.

- Dr. Andreas Fox

Special Containment Procedures: SCP-6760 is allowed to roam the facility under the watch of Dr. Fox. The majority of the time, SCP-6760 can be found hiding in Dr. Fox’s shirt, and is allowed to be taken home with Dr. Fox since his residency had been modified into a secure site. SCP-6760 is allowed to be housed at one of two sites depending on its preference, the judgement of Dr. Fox, and Foundation discretion. 

Regardless of containment site, 6760 is to be provided with a five (5) by five (5) by two point five (2.5) meter glass enclosure. Glass is thirty (30) cm thick. SCP-6760 is to be kept in its enclosure when not being supervised. A one (1) by one (1) by one point five (1.5) meter table is to be placed in the center of both enclosures, with LED lights on for the duration of containment. 6760 is encouraged to hide from the light. When requested, 6760 is to be spoken to in a calm, non-threatening tone. Polite conversation has been shown to keep 6760 docile and happy.

In addition, different colored lights are to be utilized in SCP-6760’s containment. A description of colors and their effects will be provided below. 

Description: SCP-6760 was discovered at ████, ███ on  ██ / █ /  ████ after crashing down to Earth in the form of a meteor. Researchers initially found an empty crater that seemed to be slick with oil. Unprompted, researcher ███████ explored the creator. Upon stepping on the “oil”, it surrounded, taking a semi-humanoid form and consumed the researcher. It recoiled from high-intensity lights that were placed around the crater for observation. It lasted in this form for approximately thirty seconds before reducing itself to a quarter-sized sphere. SCP-6760 was then transported in a glass container illuminated by a flashlight to site  ██. It was later transported to site ██ when Dr. Fix showed interest in rehabilitating the item. 

SCP-6760 is an amorphous, black entity made of an unknown substance that calls itself Scorn. Staff are encouraged to call it by its preferred name, as addressing it with its item number results in negative reactions. Testing has come back inconclusive, and staff has since given up on trying to assess the item’s DNA. When put in a dark room, the item will expand to fill it and take on whatever shape it so desires. 6760 has the ability to inflict catastrophic damage on the facility, though it’s always insisted it’s “just stretching” when it expands. Though it can expand under light, the entity has expressed that it “burns too bad to move”. It spends the majority of its time under its table or with Dr. Fox, who has complete and total control over the entity. SCP-6760 has never denied a command from Dr. Fox, no matter how tedious, menial, or absurd the command is. It is capable of speaking rudimentary English, which is steadily improving with the help of Dr. Fox and his underling, ███████ █████. When given a command by Mr. █████, it hesitates and complains, but eventually obeys. These two are regarded to be the only people with complete control over 6760, though it’s been seen to obey other Foundation staff in dire circumstances. 

SCP-6760’s most common forms are:

- A vaguely humanoid shape of varying height, always measured to be over two (2) meters tall. Its features are indiscernible, though it always smiles at Foundation staff to show off its “pretty teeth”. When in a humanoid shape, the item condenses its matter to form a skeletal system. When it reverts to a simpler shape, it regurgitates its skeleton. All “bones” collected from SCP-6760 are to be collected and stored for testing. 

- An average, button down shirt. This form is most commonly taken when hiding under Dr. Fox’s shirt. If Dr. Fox removes his shirt, SCP-6760 will act as a temporary replacement, usually sticking its “head” out of the shirt pocket to communicate with Foundation staff. 

- A one eyed sphere, most commonly taken during containment when hiding under its provided table. It can be described as similar to a Beholder, a monster enemy in the tabletop game Dungeons and Dragons. 

- An amorphous blob identical to SCP-999. This form is only taken when the entities interact, though due to 999’s anomalous properties, SCP-6760 is almost always reduced to a giggling puddle. It takes approximately 15 minutes to return to its original shape on its own, and 5 minutes with Dr. Fox’s encouragement. 

Testing has shown that SCP-6760 has a wide range of reactions to different colored lights. Notable examples include:

- Sunlight causes an adverse reaction in the item, though it sustains no physical damage from being exposed to it. It’s less of a threat and more of an inconvenience to the item. 

- Any type of LED will result in the entity becoming slightly weakened. They cause the entity to struggle when taking shape. Notable LED variants are: 

Mixed: Multiple light sources of different colors will confuse and disorient the item. It reacts by hiding and crying out for Dr. Fox. Dr. Fox is the only staff member able to comfort the entity. 

Red: Any source of red light causes an intense and immediate negative reaction. The longer 6760 is exposed to red light, the more violent the entity becomes. It will do anything and everything possible to break the offending bulb, often resulting in burns that heal themselves when the entity is provided with ample shadow.

Green: Green lights energize and excite 6760. The item will act similarly to a puppy when exposed to green lights. Due to this, green lighting should be utilized when the item interacts with SCP-999.

Yellow/orange: Yellow and orange lights are mildly calming to the entity. It will still try to hide in shadows, though it has no adverse reactions to the light. Yellow and orange lights are to be used as a mild sedative, with a “high” similar to that of a low dose of Valium. It’s theorized that yellow and orange lights produce such a reaction because of 6760’s relationship with 999, but at this point in time there’s no way of knowing.

Blue: Blue LEDs cause the entity to almost instantaneously put the entity to sleep. SCP-6760 will find the nearest shady spot, fall asleep, and remain there until the light is either shut off or replaced with light of a different color. Attempts to wake the subject invariably fail.

Purple: Purple lights are SCP-6760’s favorite. The item has expressed that these lights are the gentlest on his skin. It frequently requests purple lighting at night, as it better helps the entity relax without outright sedating it.

Addendum-6760-1:

The following is an interview conducted by Dr. Fox after months of containment and speech therapy. It should be noted that SCP-6760 was not able to be understood and Dr. Fox provided a transcription once the interview concluded.

Interviewer: Dr. Andreas Fox, site ██

Interviewee: SCP-6760

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dr. Fox: Scorn, I understand that you’re ready to talk about your retrieval?

SCP-6760: I don’t want to.

Dr. Fox: But will you? 

SCP-6760: [Item bows its head.]

Dr. Fox: You realize you killed a man, don’t you?

SCP-6760: [Item nods.]

Dr. Fox: Can I ask why you would do such a thing?

SCP-6760: [Item bears its teeth.] He stepped on me.

Dr. Fox: He hurt you?

SCP-6760: Ground his heel into me. Called me disgusting.

Dr. Fox: Did you know what that word meant at the time?

SCP-6760: No, but I understood his voice. I heard the hate. I feeled it under his foot.

Dr. Fox: The correct word is felt.

SCP-6760: [Item grumbles indecipherably.]

Dr. Fox: Apologies. I understand you’re still learning. [Dr. Fox consults his clipboard.] You could feel that he was disgusted with you. That’s what motivated you to kill him?

SCP-6760: Yes.

Dr. Fox: What would you do if that happened again? Would you kill another person for insulting you?

SCP-6760: [Item pauses for thirty seconds.] No.

Dr. Fox: Why not?

SCP-6760: You would be mad. Or sad. You would shine lights on me.

Dr. Fox: [He makes note of this.] What if there were no lights? If there would be no consequences, would you attack someone?

SCP-6760: No. You would be sad or mad.

Dr. Fox: I would be, but I’m glad to hear you won’t do it again. 

SCP-6760: I want to go home.

Dr. Fox: Back to your chamber?

SCP-6760: [Subject nods.] With the pretty lights.

Dr. Fox: Does that mean you’re done talking to me for the day?

SCP-6760: [Subject nods.]

Dr. Fox: I just have one more question. Do you feel remorse for what you did? Do you understand that word?

SCP-6760: [Subject refuses to move or speak.]

Dr. Fox: Alright, Scorn. I can escort you back to your chamber now.

Addendum-6760-2:

During the security breach at site ██, during which multiple euclid and keter items escaped their chambers, SCP-6760 was found scouring the halls and “absorbing” any and all personnel it found. No personnel retrieved by SCP-6760 were hurt in any way by the item. It proceeded to gather as many staff members it could find, including D-Class, and took them outside. It found a MTF vehicle to hide under until Dr. Fox requested its help. They reentered the facility, escorted by a MTF team, and SCP-6760 was able to neutralize multiple items. Items include: SCPs 173, 049, 372, 682, and multiple instances of 939. It attempted to apprehend SCP-096, but was ultimately unsuccessful. 

[redbeardace]

August TAAAP Chat Notes:  Sex Ed

This is a scattered bunch of thoughts and notes on some of the things that were discussed about sex ed in the August TAAAP Pride Chats.  There’s no solid thesis here, but maybe a few conversation starters.  Some of what’s here is a post-chat thought and wasn’t even discussed at all.  This should also be taken as incomplete and not a full overview of what was discussed.  (Notably, it doesn’t include much of what went on in the voice chats.) 

[Cross-posted from Pillowfort.]

Include aces and aros.  Unsurprisingly, one of the main things was that aces and aros should be included in sex ed courses.

Sex ed has gone backwards since the early 90s?  Either I had a wildly advanced program in my schools (in a deeply conservative rural area), or the fallout of Jocelyn Elders and the “abstinence-only” nonsense of the Bush years completely obliterated the usefulness of sex ed.  We had a program that spanned multiple years, starting with a single day vocabulary lesson and “puberty is coming!” warnings in the 5th or 6th grade, through a two week lesson about all sorts of things in 9th or 10th grade health class.  We were told that masturbation and gay people and condoms and oral sex existed, although there were no details about how any of those things worked.  It wasn’t perfect, but it was a start.  But a lot of the people in the chats were talking about their sex ed, and it sounded woefully, frighteningly inadequate.

What is “sex ed”, anyway?  School, teaching the basics?  Information for adults?  Training courses for professionals?

Cover the basics.  The basics are important.  Anatomy, menstruation, common medical issues down there.  Cover what’s “normal” and what should be taken to a doctor.

What about other classes?  How can a math teacher express support?  Hang a flag.  Tackle amatonormativity in story problems.  Discuss it in the staff room.  Point the sex ed teachers at aro/ace resources.  Be out.   Stories about aromantic people read in English class.  Asexual people talked about in history.  GSAs/Pride groups in school that are aro and ace inclusive.

Desire for sex or romance are not universals.  Stop with the “Everyone wants it eventually”, and switch to something more like “a lot of people do, but not everyone, and it’s okay if you don’t.”

Reframe the discussion of “No”.  Too often, in sex ed, it’s all about when you’re “ready”, with the implication that you will be “ready” one day.  And when you’re “ready”, there’s the implication that you’re ready and willing for everything from that point forward.  Like if you say “yes” to a date and you’ve opted in to all the romancey things, say “yes” to sex and you’ve opted in to all the sexy things.  That’s not right.  It should be more focused on what you want to do, and empower people to say “no” to things they don’t want.  Discuss reasons for saying no, include “I just don’t wanna”.  Normalize the permanent “no”.

Look for backdoor opportunities for inclusion.  For example, the new Washington State Comprehensive Sex Ed law requires teaching of sexual orientations and gender identities as listed in the definition used by another section of state law.  So if that other section gets updated to include aros and aces, the sex ed curriculum will also have to be updated.

Connect with the people doing the work.  There are groups who build sex ed programs and lobby for them.  Work with them to include ace and aro topics.

Beware the head-in-the-sand crowd.  There is a very loud, very active anti-sex-ed lobby out there.  In WA, they got the sex ed law put up for a vote. Some of their objections are that affirmative consent goes against their religious teachings, and that although they can opt out their kids from the lesson, they can’t opt out their kids from schoolyard talk, so your kids have to remain ignorant, too.

Fuck you, Kemper Freeman.  Seriously.  Fuck that guy.

How do you accommodate varying levels of interest and aversion, while still providing necessary levels of detail?  The topic of sex ed is a bit of a minefield.  Some people want to know all the things, some people want to know very very little.  Some topics are dysphoria triggers, some topics are aversion triggers, some topics are just not interesting or of any practical use.  There’s a baseline of information that everyone should know, and there’s a level of detail that the interested people should get.  But how do you do that in a classroom setting?  One suggestion was to allow people to freely step outside for certain topics.  Another was to have an interactive lesson, where the student is able to adjust the detail based on their comfort level and interest.  It would start out with a “default” level of detail, but would allow the student to request less detail or more detail for each topic.  The less detail level would still have all of the baseline level information that everyone should know, while the more detail would go beyond a surface level summary.  Likewise, images could be switched between text description, line art diagrams, and actual photos.  

Resources!  Scarleteen, Sexplanations, etc.

Discuss healthy relationships and consent.  Provide practical examples.  Not just how/when to say yes or no, but how to bring up things you want to do or are curious about.  Include queer relationships.   How to ask for what you want.  How to know what you want.  How to say no to what you don’t want.  All relationships, not just sexual or romantic.

Reconsider segregation by gender.  A lot of sex ed is done with a gender split, but does it need to be?  If there is a value to such a split, how can it be made trans and intersex supportive?

Bring up body variations.  There’s a wide variety of genital configurations, so mention them.  Discuss intersex bodies.  Discuss small parts, large parts, asymmetrical parts.  This would likely be an appropriate place to include actual photos, because so many people said that actual photos were only used in the STD scare tactics.

Elaborate on “sex”.  Too often, it’s discussed as just PIV to orgasm and that’s that.  But what about things that don’t involve Ps or Vs or do involve Ps and Vs, but not the I?  What about stuff before and after?  What alternatives are there if you don’t like certain aspects but are fine with others?

Cover everyone.  If there is a separation, each group should cover the same things, at least at some level.  Everyone should come out of sex ed knowing about their own body and its processes, as well as about bodies they don’t have, and their processes.

Don’t “teach” through fear.  STDs are bad, but they’re preventable with caution and mostly treatable in some form or another.  Pregnancy typically isn’t desirable for high schoolers, but here’s a dozen ways to avoid it.  Give direct information, don’t try to terrify people.

Mention pleasure.  Mention the basics of obtaining pleasure, whether alone or with others.  If anyone walks out of a sex ed course of any kind without knowing about the clitoris, it’s a failure.  People should know that most clitoris owners can masturbate, and can experience pleasure from sexual acts, if done the right way..

Dispel myths and lies.  Not everybody wants it.  Vaginal penetration isn’t necessarily going to lead to orgasm.  It’s not supposed to hurt the first time.  You don’t have to have an orgasm.  It’s okay not to know what to do.  “Girls don’t want it.”  “Boys will be boys.”

Toys.  AFAB people don’t have to only use vibrators to masturbate.  AMAB people can use toys.

What is “Attraction”?  And along those lines, what is “Libido”?  What do these things feel like?  How do you know what you’re feeling?  What are these experiences like for different people?

Hygiene.  Give information about keeping various zones clean.  Talk about the results of various activities, partnered or not, and what steps might need to be taken.

Porn is fake.  Watching porn to pick up information about how to do sex is roughly equivalent to watching a crime procedural to learn how to become a cop.  You’ll get a very skewed view of things.  Pleasure isn’t always visible or audible.

Destigmatize it all.  Sex is seen as taboo and secret, and not to be spoken of, and that attitude harms people.  It prevents them from feeling comfortable to bring up important things or ask important questions.  It prevents them from learning things they need to learn.  It forces people into bad situations and mediocre encounters because they don’t know it doesn’t have to be like that.

Teach people how to learn.  Sex is currently a subject fraught with misinformation.  Porn or Cosmo are main sources of information, yet aren’t super accurate.  People should be given tools to know how to find and evaluate the information.

Consent is bigger than the bedroom.  Consent includes touch, jokes, conversations, etc.  It’s anywhere boundaries exist.

More than just cis white male voices.  So much of sex ed is heteronormative, amatonormative, tailored for specific cases, and mired in the ignorance of the past.  Sex ed needs more perspectives.

[codariidoescrimes]

Arden Talks Media Studies: Death of the Author

Intro/Disclaimer

Ok so I do try to keep this blog largely for swtor in specific and star wars in general content, but I’m going to make an exception here because I like to talk. @lilquill brought up some posts about death of the author in a discord server we share and her, another friend who I don’t want to name without their explicit permission, and myself ended up having a conversation about the misconceptions people seem to have around this topic. So because I’m a media studies student I figured I’d make this post about death of the author from my perspective of studying this stuff. 

Feel free to reblog this post if there’s anything you want to add or challenge me on! This isn’t meant to be a callout or a vague about any specific person, more a general idea that seems to be spread around. And I could be totally wrong. I’ll link my sources at the end. 

So what is Death of the Author?

The original Death of the Author essay was written by an academic named Roland Barthes and later translated into English. It’s not super long so y’all should definitely give it a read if you’re curious about this stuff, but it IS quite dense so I’m going to summarize it here, paragraph by paragraph.

Barthes opens by quoting from the book Sarrasine and asking the question “who is saying this?”. He goes on to say that there is no clear answer whether it is being said by the protagonist, the Author, or the social context the Author is writing in. To Barthes, literature is a place where multiple voices (the Author and the various influences on their life) combine into a whole new voice that can’t be fully attributed to any one of the original factors. 

In the next paragraph Barthes talks about how the idea of the Author is a modern, Western, one. The concept of the Author, therefore, is one that hyper focuses on an individual, and (usually) his personality and thoughts due to the the importance of individualism in our society. “The author still rules in manuals of literary history, in biographies of writers, in magazine interviews, and even in the awareness of literary men, anxious to unite, by their private journals, their person and their work”. The fiction produced by an individual, under “author-culture” (because we don’t already have enough [x]culture going around) is therefore seen as a both direct insight into the mind of the Author AND a direct expression of his ‘voice’.

The next paragraph talks about a few previous criticism of Author-culture. A bunch of different writers have argued that language, systems, symbols, and codes are the lens a work should be viewed by rather than tools of the Author. Surrealism directly opposed the idea of an authors intentions via automatic writing. And the school of linguistics talks about how the Author isn’t any sort of dramatic figure, but simply a person who writes.

Barthes goes on from this to speak about how the death or absence of the Author™ changes the modern text. First of all, rather than the Author being a ‘before’ state and the text being an ‘after’ state where the Author can be viewed as the ‘parent’ of the text, instead the writer exists simultaneously with the text. “In grammar the person or thing we speak about is called the subject. What we say about the subject is called the predicate”, and to Barthes the text is no longer the predicate of the Author. It therefore directly counters the idea of the tortured genius Author whose hand is slower than his mind. 

To Barthes, the text is not just the words being written with one meaning coming directly from the Author, but a “tissue of citations, resulting from the thousand sources of culture”. The writer is therefore an imitator not a creator, with their role being to combine and contrast already existing ideas and concepts into a new form. The words used by an Author largely already exist, and only have meaning in relation to other words that also already exist. 

The Author™ and the Critic™ therefore have a symbiotic relationship. The Author provides the text with one set meaning, and the Critic therefore uncovers the meaning by explaining the Author. The death of the Author also becomes the death of the Critic. “The space of the writing is to be traversed, not penetrated: writing ceaselessly posits meaning but always in order to evaporate it: it proceeds to a systematic exemption of meaning”. Barthes believes that death of the author liberates writing from needing to have a final meaning.

 Writing is therefore the domain of the reader or the spectator. Barthes provides the example of a Greek tragedy, where the text of full of words with double meanings. Within the text each character only understands one of the meanings, creating the tragic misunderstanding. However the reader understands not only the double meanings of each word, but also the limited understanding of the characters. Texts are a dialogue between cultures and writings, which the reader combines through the act of reading. “The reader is a man without history, without biography, without psychology; he is only that someone who holds gathered into a single field all the paths of which the text is constituted”.

Barthes concludes by explaining that classical criticism is centered around the Author, not the reader and that therefore “The birth of the reader must be ransomed by the death of the Author”.

Context of the original text.

Welcome to the bit of this already longass post where I death of the author the ‘death of the author’ text itself. As in, to fully understand this text we need to look at the context it was written in.

Roland Barthes was a French linguist who lived in the 21st century. If you’re like me and have done any media studies classes at all, you’ve probably already heard of him as being “that sign guy”. As in, he wrote a LOT on semiotics. Semiotics is the study of signs, and to discuss it in detail would be a WHOLE other post, but it is quite important so here goes: 

The main concepts within semiotics are the sign, and signification. A sign is a word, image, sound, act, object, etc which has no intrinsic meaning, but has been given meaning. It is made up of the signifier, a written or spoken word, and the signified, a concept. The relationship between the signifier and the signified is signification. For example, a cat is a sign as it consists of the word “cat” (signifier) and the physical animal (signified). 

Barthes also talked about mythologies, and not as in the Greek sense. Basically, denotation is the literal meaning of a sign, while connotation is a deeper or cultural meaning. Rose denotes rose; rose connotes romantic love. Myth in this sense is when those two words are combined and the connotation BECOMES a denotation. 

He was also heavily involved in structuralism. There’s a lot of types of structuralism because a lot of different disciplines use it in various ways, but in Barthes context it involved looking at the cultural and social structures that determine human behaviour, and using this in the context of literature.

And this isn’t as off topic as it might seem, because Barthes Death of the Author text can therefore be looked at through these lenses. As in, Barthes is the guy who literally wrote a whole essay collection called “Mythologies” to analyse the societal connotations of new signifieds to ordinary objects as signifiers. And by ordinary stuff I literally mean wrestling, wine, and plastic among others. So to Barthes, the Author is a sign, and the text written by the Author is another sign.

Conclusion

The most important thing to remember about Death of the Author is that it’s a particular concept, that discusses a particular idea (the Author™) in a particular context (structuralism, and a critique of individualism and the Culture of the Time). So therefore, even when used correctly, there’s still no requirement to AGREE with this particular theory. Thanks for reading!

Sources

Roland Barthes - Death of the Author

Predicate and Subject

No source for the semiotics stuff because it was all written class notes :(

Structuralism

Further Reading

Roland Barthes - Mythologies (1957)

[southeastasianists]

Immediately to the north-west of Australia, occupying an area somewhat larger than our island-continent, are the heartlands of the pre-modern world’s most accomplished and farthest-ranging oceanic explorers, migrant settlers and traders. Today they occupy much of Southeast Asia, while their outlying settlements stretch from Madagascar to Easter Island and Hawai’i. Active and afloat across the Asian and Indian Ocean region for millennia, their maritime mercantile ventures reached northern Australia in pre-colonial centuries.

They are the diverse but culturally and linguistically related people who are collectively called Austronesians.

Both the term ‘Austronesian’ and these people’s identity as a distinct grouping are, it’s safe to say, very little recognised by most Australians or the wider world, except among specialist historians, archaeologists, ethnographers and linguists. Author Philip Bowring wants to change that with this book that is a detailed, multidisciplinary account of these quintessential seafaring and trading societies, from their prehistoric origins until now.

In particular Bowring wants the ‘general reader and public’, at whom this book is aimed, to appreciate their dynamic role in the networks of oceanic trading that stretched from Asia across the Indian Ocean to the Mediterranean for thousands of years… networks that led directly to the last half millennium of European expansion, and that were the forerunners of today’s globalised economy.

Austronesians comprise most of the populations of modern Indonesia, Malaysia and the Philippines, speaking hundreds of different but related languages. There are also minority Austronesian populations in Indochina, Burma, Thailand and Taiwan. Ethnic Thais, Cambodians, Laos, Vietnamese and Burmese of mainland South-East Asia are not Austronesians, nor were they primarily seafaring societies – the thing that most defines deep Austronesian heritage.

So to avoid confusion Bowring has coined a new term, Nusantaria, to describe Austronesian homelands on the islands and coasts of South-East Asia, from where they sailed and traded much more widely. The term comes from the Sanskrit-derived, Malay-Indonesian nusantara (‘the islands between’), referring to the archipelagos that stretch from China and South-East Asia towards Australasia. (In English this was sometimes ‘the Malay archipelago’, the title of Alfred Russell Wallace’s magnificent magnum opus published precisely 150 years ago.)

The Nusantaria concept keeps the focus on this vital maritime mercantile heartland, whereas some of the Austronesian family sailed so far away – to Micronesia, Polynesia and Madagascar – that they eventually lost contact with the ancestral sail-trading network.

The major defining feature of Nusantarian societies was their mastery of navigation with ingenious vessel technologies, which included outriggers, unique fore-and-aft sailing rigs and hull-construction techniques that distinguished them from the Arab, Persian, Indian, Chinese and (much later) European ships that also plied these seas. This was the key to their expansion and settlement of maritime Southeast Asia over the last four or five millennia, displacing or absorbing earlier migrants. Other original features of Nusantarian societies included ancestral cults and shamanism, headhunting, and the independence and high standing of their women.

Bowring takes an even-handed approach to the fascinating question of Nusantarian origins. He acknowledges the well-accepted ‘out of China via Taiwan’, north-to-south thesis of Peter Bellwood et.al., but seemingly gives equal credence to alternative, south-to-north theories of migrations that were forced by the last inter-glacial flooding of the Sundaland basin (Stephen Oppenheimer, William Sondheim).

From ancient times the islands of Nusantaria supplied key trade commodities including the rarest and most costly spices – cloves, nutmeg and mace – exported in its own ocean-going ships. But more crucially, these home waters were the cross-roads of all the extensive sea trade between East Asia and the Indian Ocean.

Controlling these sea lanes led to the rise of diverse Nusantarian trading centres and entrepôts, kingdoms and empires in Sumatra, Java, Malaya and elsewhere in their region. Bowring vividly depicts a cosmopolitan trading world exchanging ceramics, metals, gems, silks and other textiles, spices, forest products, slaves – the vast majority shipped by sea.

‘A Persian writing in Arabic in the tenth century,’ he tells us, ‘noted that parrots in Palembang [the Sumatran centre of the Srivijaya empire] could speak many languages including Arabic, Persian and Greek.’ Those polylingual parrots would certainly also have spoken Malay, the Austronesian language native to both shores of the Straits of Malacca – the narrow funnel through which most of this trade passed. It became the lingua-franca of the region’s sailors and traders well over a thousand years ago, and is the basis of the modern Indonesian national language.

The major religions of Hinduism, Buddhism and Islam entered the region from the Indian Ocean, spread peaceably by maritime trade and adopted through influence and prestige. Nusantarian societies transformed these religions, as much as they transformed Nusantaria. Rare seaborne invasions such as that of the Tamil-Indian Cholas in 1025, and later Mongol and Ming interventions, made no lasting impacts due to the dispersal of the islands and the skills of its sailors and traders.

European and Christian incursions began more forcibly five centuries ago, lured by the fabulous wealth of the ‘Spice Islands’ and advantaged by the superior gunnery of these aggressive newcomers. The shock is well expressed in the famous words of 17th-century Makassan Sultan Alauddin, refusing monopolist Dutch demands to exclude their rivals: ‘God made the land and the sea. The land he divided among men and the sea he gave in common. It has never been heard that anyone should be forbidden to sail the seas.’

This new era would lead eventually to a severe downturn of Nusantarian fortunes and a loss of common identity as they were fragmented into the post-colonial states we know today. Bowring makes the valuable point, however, that it’s easy to exaggerate the effect of the first few centuries of European activity, as disruptive as it was. It was not until ‘a final land-grabbing spasm around the turn of the 20th century that European imperialism reached its final apogee’, drawing Nusantaria’s modern borders.

Journalist, author and yachtsman Philip Bowring has lived in Asia for decades as a correspondent for leading financial and international newspapers, and was editor of the prestigious Far Eastern Economic Review. His earlier history book was about a distant ancestor, Sir John Bowring, who as Plenipotentiary in China in 1856 precipitated the Second Opium War, and who negotiated a key trade treaty between Britain and King Mongkut of Anna and the King of Siam fame.

Having read history at Cambridge and, during his working life, absorbed himself in the history and economy of maritime Asia, Philip Bowring is well placed to attempt this ambitious synthesis of vast amounts of scholarship and primary sources for a non-specialist readership. Its magnitude is attested by a nine-page bibliography. Given the breadth and depth of material consulted, errors (in this reviewer’s fields, at least) were few and minor.

At times the work suffers from the formidable weight of historical detail that it encompasses. There are occasions where condensing complex events and multiple players creates sentences that are rather too opaque, unless you’re already well-versed in that history. Places, people or processes can sometimes flash by, for the first and last time, unexplained.

This is less criticism than acknowledgement of the dilemma of treating an intricate subject encompassing so very many cultures, eras and episodes in a single volume – as best I know, for the first time. You could push the book out by an extra hundred or two pages – but then, good luck finding a publisher. Or do you simplify the story by sacrificing some of the richness and texture of complex events and processes? Any reader finding themselves a bit lost in the detail might return to the contents list, which has been well constructed with snappy chapter titles and a clever 30-word synopsis for each. This can usefully be returned to as a summary or a road map.

The attractive illustrations in both colour and mono have been very well selected for variety and quality, with many outstanding works of art, artefacts or historical sources. It might have been helpful to reference them more in the text, however, to make their relevance clearer to readers unfamiliar with the subject.

This hardcover book is handsomely produced with a beautiful dust jacket showing fine Nusantarian galleys in the Moluccas, recorded during the Louis de Freycinet expedition of 1817–20. It’s a volume that offers readers a deeper understanding of the vibrant maritime peoples and events that unfolded literally on Australia’s tropical northern doorstep, to better appreciate the complex development of the human, political and economic region that we inhabit.

[rockofeye]

It'd be nice to see sort of a "Creole for beginners" post that talks about what terms are common in Vodou and maybe explains the grammar structure. I've noticed a lot of Creole I can mentally translate myself if I think about it long enough since many French words were taken into English awhile back, but French itself I don't actually know so sometimes it's quite a reach. The evolution of the language seems parallel with the evolution of Vodou and that's really interesting to me.

So, this ask has been sitting for awhile, and I’ve been thinking about it a lot as I am just finishing up an intensive month-long Kreyòl class.

Haitian Kreyòl/Kreyòl Ayisyen is a fascinating, gorgeous, succulent language. In some ways, it is super straightforward and in other ways, it is deeply complex as befits a language that has roots in Romance languages (more than one!), African languages (more than one!), and Indigenous languages. Like vodou, it is a language that embodies the history of Haiti and it has and does evolve as culture and the world advances.

Outside of Haiti, there is the idea that there is no common orthography/common way of speaking and utilizing the language. This is wrong wrong wrong. Largely, this stems from the fact that, until about 50 years ago, Kreyòl was almost entirely an oral only language because of colonialism–Kreyòl has only begun being taught in schools in the last decade, yet almost every Haitian speaks it fluently (the elite class speaks French, but that is largely a class marker–everyone knows Kreyòl). Many Haitians do not know how to write in Kreyòl, and write the best that they are able which leads to widely varied output….which leads outsiders to say that there is no commonly accepted orthography.

It would take a long, LONG time to really deconstruct and explain how Kreyòl works in practice so I’m not going to go there entirely, but here are some basics:

Kreyòl has 32 letter/symbols in its alphabet. Within that, there are 15 vowels/vowel sounds and 18 consonants/consonant sounds. Kreyòl only utilizes one accent (grave accent/aksan grav). Things with the alphabet that trip up Kreyòl learners who are native English speakers include:

‘C’ is not utilized except as a compound sound in ‘ch’, which is a soft sound like ‘shh’ and not a hard sound like ‘chair’.

‘U’ is not utilized except in compound sounds with other vowels.

‘G’ is always hard, never soft.

In Kreyòl, everything written is spoken–there are no silent letters, ever. A professor of mine terms Kreyòl as a truly democratic language; every letter has a sound that is expressed orally. 

Basic sentence structure is Subject-Verb-Object (Li se yon bèl fi/She is a beautiful woman) and Noun-Adjective (Li bèl/She is beautiful). Within that structure:

Tenses and conditions (positive/negation) are assigned by separate verb markers/particles. Absense of a verb marker makes the tense automatically present.

Verbs largely do not conjugate, with some exceptions.

Articles are placed separately from the noun–definite articles are ALWAYS after the noun, indefinite articles are ALWAYS before the noun, and this gives speakers of other languages fits because it is different than the Romance languages most closely related to Kreyòl (my class had several folks who spoke several European-derived languages fluently, and the folks who spoke French or Spanish fluently struggled the most).

Adjectives are mostly after nouns, except when they are not.

Kreyòl is a language of double speak, both in general and in vodou. Words carry multiple meanings depending on context and tone, which can be a struggle when learning and can lead to confusion and sometimes awkward conversation. For example, the word for walk and market is spelled and pronounced the same way, the word for pen can also refer to internal genitalia and/or pubic hair in a female-assigned person in a somewhat rude/abrupt way, and utilizing a nasal versus open vowel sound in ‘I would like to meet you’ in Kreyòl changes that sentence to ‘I would like to fuck you’. Luckily, most Haitians are extremely accommodating to outsiders and understand that mistakes are honest mistakes (but they will laugh…).

Tone and composure (how you fix your face when you speak) is super important. How a sentence is said communicates as much, if not more, than the actual word. How I say ‘yon fanm sa a la’ can change ‘the woman over there’ to ‘can you believe this biiiiiiiitch over there’.

Kreyòl must be spoken with mouth open: no mumbling, etc. To get words across accurately, the mouth must open to make all the sounds.

The language is an independent standalone language with piece of French, Spanish, English, and multiple African languages visible. Much of the sentence structuring is African-derived, particularly from Bantu and Yoruba sources. There is a recent and evolving movement to claim identity of the language as Haitian only, not as Kreyòl.

The language also reflects the lived history of the country and it’s people. A lot of common phraseology reflects the history of enslavement; one of the more common ways to ask where someone lives in-country is ki bò ou ye/kibò ou ye, which translates to ‘what side are you from’. This is directly related to how enslaved Africans lived; plantations were huge and sprawling and so when enslaved Africans met others who were on the same plantation, how they related where they lived on the plantation was in that manner. Like vodou, the language is it’s own living history.

In the religion, language gets more complicated. French is utilized in some specific instances and some spirits, if/when they speak, only speak French, but Kreyòl is the liturgical language of the religion. All the songs and majority of the prayers are in Kreyòl, the community speaks Kreyòl, etc. In general, French is falling away as being a conversational language in Haiti–it is often used in business and medicine, but that’s about it.

There is also langaj, the language of the spirits. This is largely untranslatable language that spirits sometimes use in possession–it can be a combination of Kreyòl and African-descended sounds that are not complete in any African language. What langaj means is often private between the spirit and to whom that spirit is speaking, with the most common uses become accepted parlance (think ritual exclamations, like ‘ayibobo’, ‘awoche Nago’, ‘alaso’,  ‘djarvodo/djavodo/djavado’).

Kreyòl is also spoken differently by spirits than by people. Kreyòl in general has many dialects throughout the country, and it follows that the spirits have many dialects as well. Kreyòl in general is spoken very fast by Haitians, and the spirits follow suit with that. In addition, some spirits speak more rural or localized forms of Kreyòl depending on what part of Haiti they are from. Some spirits speak very nasally, some speak so softly it almost sounds like they are only letting out soft breaths, some mix Kreyòl and langaj, some only speak/yell at top volume. All of that is super different than what a language program or even an in-person class can teach, and soKreyòl learned and used in religious settings is picked up contextually. 

LearningKreyòl can be a daunting pursuit. Since it is SO orally focused, the best way is to learn orally in an immersive setting; either an intensive class or in Haiti or the Haitian community. There are some language programs, most of them are not great. Here’s what I like:

Ann Pale Kreyol by Albert Valdman is an excellent place to start. Though it is older and some of it is dated, it is still pretty foundational and his teaching methods are still used in classroom teaching. It is pricey for a used copy, but there are PDFs easily available online.

Valdman also produced a bilingual English-Haitian Kreyòl dictionary and it is FANTASTIC. I have several dictionaries and this is by far the best–you get definitions of words, what parts of speech they are, and how they are used both in English and in Kreyòl sentences. It is pricey and you could beat someone to death with it, but it is worth it for learning.

Pawol Lakay is as useful as Ann Pale Kreyol is, and it also comes with CDs (if you can threaten Amazon into making sure they send them with the book). It can be a little weak on sentence structure and what parts of speech are, but it’s good. There is a forthcoming language learning system for Kreyòl that beats the pants off of anything else on the market but it is not out yet.

MangoLanguages is good for basic hello/goodbye/my name is fluency, but I did not find it useful for conversational use. Good introduction, though, and the pronunciation in-program is pretty on-point. Most public library systems and college/university libraries have a free subscriptions for this, there are also pay options.

There are other books that are aimed at travelers and casual users which can be useful, but the above are the best resources I have seen so far. I do not like the Pimsleur system for Kreyòl at all, as it is super limited to essentially picking up women in Port-au-Prince which is great if that’s your jam but not useful for much of anything else. Youtube is full of Kreyòl movies and television and music, which is good to throw on in the background to absorb the sound and cadence of the language. Several professors have cautioned about listening to Haitian radio unless it originates in Haiti, saying that most Haitian radio originating in the US is a broadcast in a mix of Kreyòl and bad French, which can trip up a learner.

I hope this helps! Let me know if I can offer more info.

[evopryblog]

Why Knowing English Is Important in Today's World

As we know, language is the primary source of communication; it helps to share our ideas and emotions with others. There are 1000+ languages in this world, every region has their own spoken language, some of them spoken by millions and others by only a few thousand. But the English language is among the most essential languages all over the world as it helps in communication. Teach Online

English is the official language in 53 countries, so yes it is the primary language for studying any subject all over the world and to learn the English language there are so many sites available who provide Online English language tutor. English is an essential language for students as it widens their mind set, evolves emotional skills, and improves the quality of life by providing job opportunities in foreign countries. It is an international language that most people are using all over the world. Some countries where English is the most widely spoken language; the United Kingdom, Canada, India, United States of America, Australia, Mauritius, Philippines, Singapore, South Africa, Sri Lanka, etc. So just imagine how this language can help in communicating with people living in these countries.

Check out these few reasons, why speaking an English language a vital part of everyone’s life: 

*It is an international language of communication

*It is language of academics, all the syllabus are written in English language

*It is travel-friendly language

*It is helpful for international business and trade

*It gives you an approach to a wealth of written media, online and printed

English is an international language: It is an international language because the majority of people speak the English language, almost 20% of the world's population. It is intended to be used by the people to reduce the misunderstanding that is caused by language deviations between the different linguistic background.  

Speaking English gives you the world's entertainment access: As we know, English is the language of Hollywood. Many of the world’s films, series, books, magazines, and shows are published and produced in English language. Therefore, by learning the language you will get the access to watch any of these shows to have the great wealth of entertainment and will be able to have a greater cultural understanding.

English gives you more access to the internet: as we know, English is  the language of the internet. On average, more than 50% of content online is displayed in the English language. Knowing the English language gives you access to over half of the content available on the internet and understanding of billions of pages of information that will be helpful in career growth. 

Why has the English language become so popular? 

There are multiple factors responsible for its popularity. Firstly, English is a very common language in various cultures. Second, it is the most widely spoken language globally, which makes it the dominant language for the business and trade world, as it allows companies to reach the largest number of potential customers. The third one is, knowing the language is really helpful to getting job opportunities in foreign countries. Fourth, the reason for language popularity is its historical background; Great Britain and the United States have experienced massive economic growth over the past two centuries.

The grandness of learning English language in today’s world:

There are so many options that individuals can benefit from understanding English. The idea of learning a universal language opens up the paths of communication between many communities.

Although yes, learning English from online sources is quite challenging and time-consuming, an online English language tutor makes it more interesting for you.  Finding time for English classes or paying for a tutor are some ways to practice for conversation with an online English tutor and make connections With people around the world, grab international job opportunities. 

[evopry]

Why Knowing English Is Important in Today's World

As we know, language is the primary source of communication; it helps to share our ideas and emotions with others. There are 1000+ languages in this world, every region has their own spoken language, some of them spoken by millions and others by only a few thousand. But the English language is among the most essential languages all over the world as it helps in communication.

English is the official language in 53 countries, so yes it is the primary language for studying any subject all over the world and to learn the English language there are so many sites available who provide Online English language tutor. English is an essential language for students as it widens their mind set, evolves emotional skills, and improves the quality of life by providing job opportunities in foreign countries. It is an international language that most people are using all over the world. Some countries where English is the most widely spoken language; the United Kingdom, Canada, India, United States of America, Australia, Mauritius, Philippines, Singapore, South Africa, Sri Lanka, etc. So just imagine how this language can help in communicating with people living in these countries.

Check out these few reasons, why speaking an English language a vital part of everyone’s life: 

*It is an international language of communication

*It is language of academics, all the syllabus are written in English language

*It is travel-friendly language

*It is helpful for international business and trade

*It gives you an approach to a wealth of written media, online and printed

English is an international language: It is an international language because the majority of people speak the English language, almost 20% of the world's population. It is intended to be used by the people to reduce the misunderstanding that is caused by language deviations between the different linguistic background.  

Speaking English gives you the world's entertainment access: As we know, English is the language of Hollywood. Many of the world’s films, series, books, magazines, and shows are published and produced in English language. Therefore, by learning the language you will get the access to watch any of these shows to have the great wealth of entertainment and will be able to have a greater cultural understanding.

English gives you more access to the internet: as we know, English is  the language of the internet. On average, more than 50% of content online is displayed in the English language. Knowing the English language gives you access to over half of the content available on the internet and understanding of billions of pages of information that will be helpful in career growth. 

Why has the English language become so popular? 

There are multiple factors responsible for its popularity. Firstly, English is a very common language in various cultures. Second, it is the most widely spoken language globally, which makes it the dominant language for the business and trade world, as it allows companies to reach the largest number of potential customers. The third one is, knowing the language is really helpful to getting job opportunities in foreign countries. Fourth, the reason for language popularity is its historical background; Great Britain and the United States have experienced massive economic growth over the past two centuries.

The grandness of learning English language in today’s world:

There are so many options that individuals can benefit from understanding English. The idea of learning a universal language opens up the paths of communication between many communities.

Although yes, learning English from online sources is quite challenging and time-consuming, an online English language tutor makes it more interesting for you.  Finding time for English classes or paying for a tutor are some ways to practice for conversation with an online English tutor and make connections With people around the world, grab international job opportunities. 

[rusocialpod]

CEFR levels: what are they? And do they matter? In the language-learning community, we often hear other learners throw around certain terms when they’re talking about their level in a language. “I speak German at a B1 level” or “I’m an A2 in Russian.” But what do B1 and A2 mean? These descriptors are skill levels in the CEFR system and they’re used by language learners to measure their ability in a language. What are the Different CEFR Levels? The Common European Framework of Reference for Languages, often referred to as CEFR or CEFRL, is an international standard for working out your ability within a language. It was established by the Council of Europe and aims to validate language ability. The six levels within the CEFR are A1, A2, B1, B2, C1 and C2. With these levels, you can easily work out your ability in around 40 different languages. The levels are often used casually by language learners to explain their ability at speaking, reading, writing and understanding a language. But there are also exams and certificates available to those who want to make their level official. Let’s first take a look at what the different levels are and what’s possible for you at each level. The “A” Levels: Basic User A1 | Beginner At the A1 CEFR level, a language learner can: Understand and use very basic expressions to satisfy concrete needs. Introduce themselves and ask others questions about personal details. Interact simply as long as the other person speaks slowly and clearly. A2 | Elementary At the A2 CEFR level, a language learner can: Understand frequently used expressions in most intermediate areas such as shopping, family, employment, etc. Complete tasks that are routine and involve a direct exchange of information. Describe matters of immediate need in simple terms. The “B” Levels: Independent User B1 | Intermediate At the B1 CEFR level, a language learner can: Understand points regarding family, work, school or leisure-related topics. Deal with most travel situations in areas where the language is spoken. Create simple texts on topics of personal interest. Describe experiences, events, dreams, and ambitions, as well as opinions or plans in brief. B2 | Upper Intermediate At the B2 CEFR level, a language learner can: Understand the main ideas of a complex text such as a technical piece related to their field. Spontaneously interact without too much strain for either the learner or the native speaker. Produce a detailed text on a wide range of subjects. The “C” Levels: Proficient User C1 | Advanced At the C1 CEFR level, a language learner can: Understand a wide range of longer and more demanding texts or conversations. Express ideas without too much searching. Effectively use the language for social, academic or professional situations. Create well-structured and detailed texts on complex topics. C2 | Proficiency At the C2 CEFR level, a language learner can: Understand almost everything read or heard with ease. Summarize information from a variety of sources into a coherent presentation. Express themselves using precise meaning in complex scenarios. When do the Different CEFR Levels Matter? The CEFR is often used by employers and in academic settings. You may need a CEFR certificate for: School admissions University course requirements Employment A CEFR certificate is very handy for your CV or résumé, and they often don’t expire. That said, many language learners use CEFR levels for self-assessment so that they can more clearly define what they need to work on, and work out what they would like to achieve in their target language. Aiming for higher CEFR levels are also a great way to make the transition from an intermediate learner to an advanced learner, and Fluent in 3 Months founder Benny Lewis has used exams in the past to force himself to improve and refine his language skills. If you’re looking for an extra push or for a way to break through a plateau, a language exam could be an effective way to do it. Motivation in language learning always matters. When do CEFR Levels not Matter? Outside of the professional or academic realm, CEFR levels are not as important. They’re really only necessary if you want to define where you’re at with your target language. In a more casual language-learning environment, or when you’re just learning languages because you enjoy them, then CEFR levels are just another tool to help with your language learning. [caption id="attachment_20741" align="aligncenter" width="640"] Sitting an exam requires a lot of study.[/caption] Sitting an exam requires a lot of study. If your goal is speaking a language, that time you spend reading, listening and writing to meet the exam requirements will be time you could have used to improve your speaking skills. In the past I’ve done exams for German, French and Italian as well as the HSK exam for Mandarin Chinese. In preparation for all these exams, I had to study materials that were completely unrelated to my end goals for the languages. So, if your language-learning goals do not align with the CEFR scale, and you don’t need a professional qualification, then you can safely ignore it. How do You Work Out Your CEFR Level? There are a few ways you can work out your CEFR level. Many learners opt for self-assessment, using the descriptions I shared above to gauge where they’re at. [caption id="attachment_20742" align="aligncenter" width="1024"] A CEFR self-assessment.[/caption] For those looking for something a little more formal, you have the option of taking an official examination or a free online examination. It’s worth noting that CEFR levels cover a variety of skills. A full CEFR exam typically measures skills in listening, reading abilities, speaking, writing, translating and interpreting. That’s why some learners segment their abilities, for example stating that their listening in a language is at a B2 level but their speaking is only at a B1 level. Others just average out their abilities and say that they’re at a B1 level overall. CEFR Assessments and Tests Available Some of your options for official examinations (or for courses with certification) include: Alliance Française for French. Goethe Institut for German. Teastas Eorpach na Gaeilge for Irish. Instituto de Cervantes for Spanish. CELI for Italian. European Consortium for the Certificate of Attainment in Modern Languages for Bulgarian, Croatian, Czech, English, French, German, Hebrew, Hungarian, Italian, Polish, Romanian, Russian, Serbian, Slovak, and Spanish. TELC for English, German, Turkish, Spanish, French, Italian, Portuguese, Russian, Polish, and Arabic. ??st?p???s? ??????µ??e?a? for Modern Greek. Language Testing International for multiple languages. Lingoda for Spanish, French, German, and English. ALTE for many other languages. Online exams include: Exam English for English. Deutsche Welle for German. Cambridge English Language Assessment for English. Cambridge Institute for English, Spanish, German, and French. Language Level for English Spanish, French, and German. Macmillan Practice Online (paid) for English. European Center for Modern Languages for self-assessment in a variety of languages. Regardless of the exam you sit, language exams demand intensive study and are a great way to push your ability in a language to that next level. What About You? Did you ever sit an official exam whether it was based on the Common European Framework or not? How did you do? How do you feel about using the CEFR scale to define your level in a language? We’d love to hear from you in the comments! The post CEFR Levels: What They Are, Why They Matter, and How to Test Yourself appeared first on Fluent in 3 months - Language Hacking and Travel Tips.

[filmstruck]

LILIOM (’30), a Love Story for Troubled Times by Nathaniel Thompson

You’d be hard pressed to find a popular work of fiction more unsettling in today’s #MeToo environment than the story of LILIOM (’30), but as they say, people are strange – since you can go see a version of it right now on Broadway. Originally conceived as a 1909 play by Hungarian writer Ferenc Molnár, it’s been adapted many times in multiple media over the decades, most famously as the stage musical Carousel by Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II and its 1956 film adaptation. The most infamous line, “Sometimes a slap can feel like a kiss,” has become an emblem of abuse justification and haunted most iterations of the story in recent years, but the stage version continues to be revived and celebrated with each generation offering a somewhat different take on its tale of supernatural redemption and deeply troubled love. In fact, that major Broadway revival of Carousel running right now has been met with zero controversy.

Though not all that well known outside of classic movie buff circles, LILIOM was first filmed officially and to completion in 1930 by regular 20th Century Fox contract director Frank Borzage, who’s best remembered for his highly successful silent dramas starring Janet Gaynor and Charles Farrell. (An earlier Hungarian silent version a decade prior by Michael Curtiz was never shot to completion, and an unofficial, highly altered 1921 silent, A TRIP TO PARADISE (’21), recycled the plot but changed the character names and many of the story particulars.) While many silent stars fell prey to the pitfalls of talkies when their real voices proved inadequate, the handsome and very charismatic Farrell had no such issues and was retained by Borzage to star in this English-language adaptation.

Borzage’s LILIOM sticks quite closely to the play apart from some minor name switching and should prove fascinating for anyone familiar with CAROUSEL (’56) who wants to see how the original story played out. The movie version of CAROUSEL is a prime example of how subject matter was twisted and softened by the demands of the Production Code. For example, the main character – renamed Billy Bigelow (Gordon MacRae), with the location moved to Maine – is introduced hanging stars in the afterlife and looking for a chance to redeem his sorry life choices including slapping Julie (his true love and mother of his impending child) and performing a botched robbery that ends (only in the movie) with that ridiculous standby of the era to avoid suicide, “falling on his knife.”

You won’t find any of those narrative dodges here as Liliom (Charles Farrell) is presented in all of his deeply flawed complexity. The abuse angle is again limited to a single slap (spoken of rather than seen) against Julie (Rose Hobart), and it’s a little jarring to see nice guy Charles Farrell playing someone who’s such a mess. If you aren’t familiar with Farrell, you should be; just check out any of his Borzage films or, even better, F.W. Murnau’s masterful CITY GIRL (’30), and you’ll be a fan for life. This wasn’t a particularly big hit for either the star or director, and it’s a good thing you can watch it streaming on FilmStruck (along with a healthy slate of other Borzage films) since it isn’t the easiest film to track down on home video without spending a decent amount of cash. On top of that it’s largely been overshadowed by another LILIOM (’34) directed by Fritz Lang, shot in France with Charles Boyer as the title character. It’s a terrific film and a fine example of Lang working at full throttle just before his relocation to America, but that doesn’t mean we should discount the Borzage version with its more restrained but sometimes very potent visual flourishes. It’s fun to compare how all the different takes on LILIOM present the afterlife in particular, ranging from an austere set reminiscent of a school play to an elaborate fantasy world worthy of the height of German Expressionism. Borzage veers closer to the latter, presenting an eerie realm that suitably reflects the silent film techniques still in heavy practice at the time and sticking closest to the more downbeat implied fate of Liliom than any subsequent film.

So how are we supposed to deal with the story of Liliom today? That’s something that will vary for each viewer, but you could argue that it’s just as relevant now as the day this first appeared in front of a projector in 1930. Most obviously, the theme of financial anxiety and social oppression spurring an average Joe to vent his anger on his loved ones and taking desperate measures to provide for them is one we still see playing out every day. Then there’s the whole slapping angle; even the source play makes a big deal of noting that he only does it one time (to Julie, at least), but by today’s standards, that’s one time too many. We see stories coming out each day about politicians and pop culture figures being accused of misconduct ranging from inappropriate comments to sexual harassment to full-blown assault, which has led to tense discussions about where we draw the line between someone who slipped up once or has reformed over time versus a serial offender wreaking decades of damage on a large number of people. It’s a topic that’s more raw and divisive now than ever before in modern history, so if it’s taken in the right context, LILIOM in its many iterations makes sense as a learning tool for modern audiences, and should evoke conversations about gender equality and ways of dealing with both physical mistreatment and rehabilitation.

From a more artistic standpoint, the tale of Liliom has also become a fascinating snapshot of the differences between “Old Country” values and postwar American ones, with the economic unease and frequent eruptions of war fueling the conflicted and more doom-laden take you’ll find here compared to the attempts to sympathize with and champion the character of Billy Bigelow in CAROUSEL (especially the film). Borzage’s film is stuck right at those crossroads, transposing the techniques of early European filmmaking to the Hollywood sound era with fascinating results. It’s a film that deserves to be more widely seen, especially in comparison to its more famous fellow adaptations, but be prepared to have a long, possibly intense conversation when it’s over.

[germanyinusa]

Apply for CBYX!

For those of you who have not heard of CBYX, it is an exchange program between Germany and the United States that is sponsored by the U.S. Congress and German Bundestag. For one year, youth age 15-18 live with a host family and attend German high school. Going the other way, German high school students do the same here in the U.S. Best part is that CBYX is a full scholarship! Sound intriguing? We hope so. We bring this scholarship up now as the deadline for applications looms in the distance--December 1st. In order to arrange the details and finish the app in time, now is the time for action if you want to throw your hat in the ring for this prestigious scholarship.

To help you conceptualize the before, during, and after of being a CBYXer, we asked our social media expert Claire, who completed her year in 2010, to talk with us about her experience.

What made you initially apply to CBYX?

I applied to CBYX for a few reasons. My uncle moved to Germany many decades ago, and I’d grown up hearing this mysterious language being spoken by him and my cousins when they visited. My brother and I would sit with our German-to-English dictionary trying to pick up what was being discussed. That interest combined with a natural sense of adventure led me to favoring the more untraditional path of doing a year abroad in high school and wanting to do it in Germany. Unfortunately, being an exchange student in high school isn’t as common in the U.S. (yet), so winning a full scholarship helped convince my parents and school to support it.

How did you arrange the year abroad with your school?

Arranging a year abroad in high school is difficult if your school hasn’t had a student do it before you. I was the first at my school, and so I had a meeting with my guidance counselor as soon as I could to discuss my options. I suggest bringing materials with you about the prestige of the program, and emphasizing your flexibility. For example, I took online courses for English and History before I left for the year as they wouldn’t be comparable in Germany. I also took the SAT’s abroad as to be on track for applying to college when I returned. Basically, I’d speak in statements with your school about how you will arrange the year rather than coming with questions--as it opens up the door for them saying it isn’t possible or that you would need to repeat a year.

Was it difficult to learn German? Did you speak it before you left?

I hadn’t traveled outside of the U.S. before CBYX, so for me it was shocking to get off the train in Berlin and suddenly everything was in German--signs, announcements, labels. I had two years of middle school/high school German at my disposal which gave me limited vocab to work with. At first, I prioritized what I said because it often required running into a word I didn’t know, which was exhausting. But word by word and day by day my German improved. I was very motivated to learn because with each word I learned my daily life became a little easier and I got to show my true colors a little more. It is a humbling experience to have to lean on people a little more for help speaking or to learn the words for things, but it’s all part of the growing pains of learning a new language and tons of people have done it before you so there is no shame in it.

What was living with a host family like?

I lived with a family in a residential part of Berlin. At home in Pennsylvania, I had a single parent, was the only girl, and was the youngest of four. In Berlin, I was the middle child and had two sisters. The family welcomed me as one of their own, and despite my preconceived notion of all Germans being tall and blonde, I found myself blending in in a family of short brown-haired females. My first day with the family, my host sisters and I played dress up-- giggling as we threw leopard print bras over our shirts and wore big clown-like glasses. I knew then that I’d found myself in the right home.

At the same time, it isn’t all easy--nor is your normal family. Living in someone else’s home requires some flexibility to their set routine, and communicating why you do what you do--which your mom doesn’t have to ask because she has seen you since you were born-- but your host family has not.

What were the biggest cultural differences you experienced?

As cliche as it is, I was shocked by how blunt Germans were. I was used to a lot of sugar coating and it took a while to appreciate how Germans communicate. I also had to get used to the independence given to people my age, as there was a lot more hand-holding and rules back in the states. In Germany, I was treated mostly like an adult, which was duly awesome and scary as it meant quickly taking on a lot of responsibility. Lastly, using public transport was a big difference from taking a school bus or being picked up in a car by your parents. It put a lot of new pressure on me to know how to get home or remember bus routes and schedules.

How is German school different than American school?

German school was WAY different than an American high school. At least in my school--which was an Oberschule, I ended and started at a different time almost every day, depending on which subjects I had. I had a class of about 20 kids who I had my core classes with and my teachers rotated to us instead of vise versa. Exams made up the majority of my grade rather than homework or participation and exams didn’t include multiple choice but rather short answers and essays. Also, there was no such thing as substitute teachers, rather if a teacher had vacation or was sick, you just didn’t have that class. This said, every school is different, so yours may resemble an American school more.

Is there a “good” year to do it?

I did my CBYX program during my junior year. This is arguably the most tricky year to do it, as colleges are looking closely at your grades and most people take the SAT’s that year. It is definitely possible though and I had no issue graduating or getting into a good college. There are pros to doing CBYX as a gap year between high school and college, in that you don’t have to stress out as much about your grades at your German school and can defer your college acceptance.

Did you get to travel during the year?

I got to travel a lot. Some host families will take you on their family vacations. With other CBYXers living across the country and the abundance of train options, it is easy to visit them too. Additionally, going back to young people being given more independence in Germany, it is not unusual to go with friends to other countries and stay in youth hostels or travel in general without parental supervision.

Have you returned to Germany since?

I have been lucky enough to have returned to Germany several times in the years after my program, and also to have had my host family visit me in Pennsylvania. My host family still refers to “my bedroom” and when I’m back I curl up on the couch eating Erdnussflips with my host sisters and watch German soap operas like no time has passed. There are certainly still things about Germany I don’t understand and words I haven’t learned yet, but CBYX solidified Germany as a second home.

How has having completed CBYX helped you in the years after?

CBYX truly changed my life course, academically and professionally. Seeing an entirely different tax, welfare, and education system in Germany inspired me to study economics in college. I’ve volunteered supporting high school exchange students ever since I returned to the U.S. and have helped choose new generations of CBYXers. Speaking German has connected me with Americans and Germans alike in my city which has been the core source of a lot of my friendships. I also eventually found myself working at the German Embassy, which obviously wouldn’t have been possible without my year living there, the German skills I acquired, and the connections that came out of that. There are people who walk away from CBYX and don’t use their German again or don’t feel the draw to return back to Germany, but if you do choose to keep involved in German relations, CBYX is a very supportive, diverse, and well-connected community.

What advice would you give those applying to or on the program?

The best advice I received was as I was leaving on the airplane. A chaperone told me to “say yes to everything”. This year is a chance to try out a new sport, a new way of talking, a new style, a new way of being--lots of things that wouldn’t be possible or easy back home where everyone knows you. It is a chance to ask questions and expose yourself to new viewpoints. So just say yes. Personally, doing so led me to visiting my first nuclear power plant (I did not know the word for this and said yes anyhow) or to a planetarium show that blasted nothing but Queen (which if you haven’t done before, I highly recommend). I tried cow’s tongue, which is surprisingly delicious on bread, and fell off my bike twice during a community bike tour. I exited my comfort zone more than I stayed in it and came back feeling like I’d lived years within just one. I’d broken outside the bubble of home and gained a new understanding of myself in the process.

If you want more information on applying for CBYX or hosting a student, check it out here: http://www.usagermanyscholarship.org/

[hellowordpar]

Localization Begins at Design Stage - WordPar International

Localization can be factored into the design stage. While creating an application, website or e-learning module, developers can keep certain localization points in mind to make the localization process simpler , more efficient, and cost effective.

Use Unicode-compliant Fonts

Many languages have fonts that are not compatible with Unicode platforms. In the past, several developers have had to re-do their work because of this issue. The right font has to be identified AHEAD of the translation process and this must be specified and communicated to the translators at the start of the project. This issue is being resolved rapidly by making most fonts Unicode-compliant, but this should be verified to avoid rework and wastage.

Provide for Text Expansion

Developers must bear in mind that text size varies from language to language. For example, something said in English will require more space in German and lesser space in Mandarin. If the developers are aware of this and are sensitized to the need at the next stage of work, they can design the on-screen display area in a manner that can accommodate this variation. Also read: Translation and Localization 

Adequate White Space for Integration

Especially in e-learning modules, developers know the importance of the white space. Providing adequate white space ensures that the display of graphs, figures and text related to the content can be accommodated easily. When the same is adapted in different languages, there is then adequate space to accommodate the variations in text size and positioning of localised text and graphics.

Separation of Translatable and Non-translatable Text

Translatable content should not be hard coded in the app. All translatable text should be distinguished from coded texts. Many operating systems ask developers to provide their translatable strings in a separate .xml file. This should be made a standard practice.  This reduces the task of the localizers and also eliminates the chance for error.

Separation of Narration Script for Voice-over

Content writers must distinguish between the content which will displayed and that which will be narrated. This, not for the end-user, but for the localizing team. Written and spoken language assume different styles. Translators must know what style to adopt for which part of the text. Translators must write voice-over scripts in spoken and sometimes colloquial style.Also Read: Translation and Localization 

Localizers must have a separate document to assign to the voice-over artistes. The text should be easily separable from the master document. It can be confusing for a voice-over artiste to receive text interspersed with content that is not relevant for narration. This can lead to mistakes in recording. Hence a clear distinction between on-screen and narration script is necessary.

Rearranging of Visuals based on Syntax

Phrases and part-sentences need to be rearranged after translation. All languages have different syntaxes and word orders. A phrase in English may not make sense in the translation unless the word order is changed. Sometimes additional words may be needed to explain the context of the part-statements. Sometimes, the sequence in which the phrases appear and transition will also need to be changed.

A well-known example for this is the word order of English and many Anglo-Saxon languages is SvO (subject – verb – object) whereas many Indian languages have the word order SOv (subject – object – verb). If an animated slideshow requires each of the above words to appear in separate slides, the sequence of the slides will need to be changed.

Moreover, the visuals on the slides will need to be adapted, because the sequence of slides may impact the design, and at the same time be linked to the syntax. These complex issues that inter-weave language and design need to be taken into account in localization. And if this aspect can be borne in mind at the time of developing the source tutorial, the process of integration becomes easier and streamlined.

Minimise On-screen Animation

Every bit of animation or transition on screen requires the localizer to synchronise linguistic elements with visuals. It is advisable that developers keep this in mind while assessing the need for animation. Artistic elements may be traded for functionality and reduction of work. Consider the fact that each slide created by the development team requires multiple elements of work in every language that the module is translated into.

Cue-points for Localizers

If developers understand the work involved in localization, then they will understand where to communicate special instructions pertaining to animations. They can insert cue points for localizers, explaining what action is required at what point in the text. Further, they can explain via these cue-points, which elements relate to which part of the text. This makes it easy for the localization team.

Labelling and Meta-labelling

Sections labels should be provided in the text both for the target audience as well as for the integrators. The absence of descriptive labels makes the job difficult and adds to the turnaround time and cost of a project.

Avoid  Embedding Text in Images

When embedding text in images, it is advisable to keep them editable. If  text is converted to images in the overall design, then there are several steps that need to be added to the localization process.

Firstly, the localizers will have to locate all images that contain text in graphic form. Then, they must transcribe them and prepare a list of translatable captions. Next, the images need to be redesigned to remove the source text image and insert the corresponding target text.

This can be avoided if the images do not contain images of text, and the text remains editable.

Maintain Translation Memory

Maintaining a translation memory and glossary helps in two ways. Firstly it helps reduce re-work and wastage wherever there is repetition in the text. Secondly, it helps in standardizing translation across modules and over time. This improves quality and reduces overall cost of the project. This exercise also helps developing a standardized glossary for reference and to apply to various aspects of the translation, say for example, in the text, in strings or in section headers, captions, titles of tables and figures and so on.

Internationalization of Code and Design

All steps taken at the design and development stage that facilitate localization are collectively termed internationalization. It involves foreseeing and supporting features that may not be used in the initial version, but only during the translation and localization stage. Such planning and provision are valuable.

Developers who are not linguists should orient themselves to the process of translation, localization and integration so that they understand such supporting provisions in addition to their regular course of work. Training by and interaction with the language teams are worthwhile from an organizational perspective.

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