#in order to efficiently use my time with the aligners out

[wintermage]

thank god i only have 2 more months of invisalign to go... i am so tired of not being able to drink tea all day every day like normal

[a-d-nox]

economic advice and timely buying tips: 2025 transits

as of late, social media has many discussions about what to buy - or avoid buying - over the next few years, largely in response to the political climate in the united states. across europe, many regions are actively preparing their populations for potential crises (sweden's seems to be the most popularly discussed - link). due to the urgency and pressure to act, as if the world might change tomorrow (and it could though i believe we still have time in many places), i’ve decided to analyze the astrological transits for 2025. in this post i provide practical economic advice and guidance on how much time astrology suggests you have to make these purchases everyone is urging you to prioritize. if it seems to intrigue people i’ll explore future years as well.

things the world needs to prepare for in 2025 in my opinion and why my advice is what it is: the rise of ai / automation of jobs, job loss, geopolitical tensions, war, extreme weather, inflation, tariffs - a potential trade war, a movement of using digital currency, the outbreak of another illness, etc.

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

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uranus goes direct in taurus (jan 30, 2025)

advice

diversify investments: avoid putting all your money in one asset type. mix stocks, bonds, index funds, and, if you feel comfortable, look into sustainable investments or new technologies.

digital finance: familiarize yourself with digital currencies/platforms or blockchain technology.

build an emergency fund: extra savings can shield you from sudden economic instability. aim for 3-6 months’ worth of expenses.

reevaluate subscriptions and spending: find creative ways to reduce spending or repurpose what you have. cancel subscriptions that don't align with needs/beliefs, cook at home, or diy where possible.

invest in skills / side hustles: take a course/invest in tools that can help you create multiple income streams.

by this date stock up on

non-perishable food items like canned goods, grains, and dried beans. household essentials like soap, toothpaste, and cleaning supplies. basic medical supplies. multi-tools. durable, high-quality items over disposable ones (the economy is changing, buy something that will last because prices will go up). LED bulbs, solar-powered chargers, or energy-efficient appliances. stock up on sustainable products, like reusable bags and water bottles. blankets. teas. quality skincare.

jupiter goes direct in gemini (feb 4, 2025)

advice

invest in knowledge: take courses, buy books (potential bans?), and/or attend workshops to expand your skill set. focus on topics like communication, writing, marketing, and/or technology. online certifications could boost your career prospects during this time.

leverage your network: attending professional events, joining forums, and/or expanding your LinkedIn presence.

diversify income streams: explore side hustles, freelance gigs, and/or monetize hobbies.

beware of overspending on small pleasures: overspending on gadgets, books, or entertainment will not be good at this point in time (tariffs already heavy hitting?).

by this date stock up on

books / journals. subscriptions to learning platforms like Skillshare, MasterClass, or Coursera. good-quality laptop, smartphone, and/or noise-canceling headphones. travel bags - get your bug out bag in order. portable chargers. language-learning apps. professional attire. teas. aromatherapy.

neptune enters aries (march 30, 2025)

advice

invest: look into industries poised for breakthrough developments, such as renewable energy, space exploration, and/or tech.

save for risks: build a financial cushion to balance your adventurous pursuits with practical security.

diversify your income: consider side hustles or freelancing in fields aligned with your passions and talents.

"scam likely": avoid “get-rich-quick” schemes or ventures that seem too good to be true.

adopt sustainable habits: focus on sustainability in your spending, like buying high-quality, long-lasting items instead of cheap, disposable ones.

by this date stock up on

emergency kits with essentials like water, food, and first-aid supplies. multi-tools, solar chargers, or portable power banks. art supplies. tarot or astrology books (bans?). workout gear, resistance bands, or weights. nutritional supplements. high-quality clothing or shoes.

saturn conjunct nn in pisces (april 14, 2025)

advice

save for the long term: create a savings plan or revisit your budget to ensure stability.

avoid escapism spending: avoid unnecessary debt.

watch for financial scams: be cautious with contracts, investments, or loans. research thoroughly and avoid “too good to be true” offers.

focus on debt management: saturn demands accountability. work toward paying down debts to free yourself from unnecessary burdens.

build a career plan: seek roles / opportunities that balance financial security with fulfillment, such as careers in wellness, education, creative arts, or nonprofits.

by this date stock up on

invest in durable, sustainable items for your home or wardrobe that offer long-term value. vitamins or supplements. herbal teas or whole grains. blankets. candles. non-perishable food. first-aid kits. water. energy-efficient devices.

pluto rx in aquarius (may 4, 2025 - oct 13, 2025)

advice

preform an audit: reflect on how your money habits and your long-term goals.

make sustainable investments: support industries tied to innovation, like renewable energy, ethical tech, or sustainable goods.

expect changes: could disrupt collective systems, so build an emergency fund. plan for potential shifts in tech-based industries or automation. AI is going to take over the workforce...

reevaluate subscriptions and digital spending: cut unnecessary costs and ensure your money supports productivity. netflix is not necessary, your groceries are.

diversify income streams: brainstorm side hustles or entrepreneurial ideas.

by this date stock up on

external hard drives. cybersecurity software. portable chargers. solar panels. energy-efficient gadgets. non-perishable food. clean water supplies. basic first-aid kits and medications. portable generators. books on technology and coding. reusable items like water bottles, bags, and food storage. gardening supplies to grow your own food. VPN subscriptions or identity theft protection.

saturn enters aries (may 24, 2025)

advice

prioritize self-reliance: build financial independence. create a budget, eliminate debt, and establish a safety net to support personal ambitions. avoid over-reliance on others for financial stability/decision-making.

entrepreneurship: consider starting a side hustle / investing in yourself.

save for big goals: plan for major life changes, such as buying property, starting a business, etc. make a high yield saving account for these long-term goals.

by this date stock up on

ergonomic office equipment. home gym equipment. non-perishable foods and water supplies for potential unexpected disruptions. self-protection; consider basic tools or training for safety. high-protein snacks, energy bars, or hydration supplies. supplements like magnesium, B-complex vitamins, etc. stock up on materials for DIY projects, hobbies, or entrepreneurial ventures.

jupiter enters cancer (june 9, 2025)

advice

invest in your home: renovating what needs renovating. saving for a down payment on a house.

focus on security: start or increase your emergency savings. consider life insurance or estate planning to ensure long-term security for your family/loved ones.

embrace conservative financial growth: cancer prefers security over risk. opt for conservative investments, like bonds, real estate, and/or mutual funds with steady returns.

focus on food and comfort: spend wisely on food, cooking tools, or skills that promote a healthier, more fulfilling lifestyle (maybe this an RFK thing for my fellow american readers or this could be about the fast food industry suffering from inflation).

by this date stock up on

furniture upgrades if you need them. high-quality cookware or tools. stockpile your pantry staples. first-aid kits, fire extinguishers, and home security systems. water and canned goods for emergencies. paint, tools, or materials for DIY projects. energy-efficient appliances or upgrades to reduce utility costs.

neptune rx in aries/pisces (july 4, 2025 - dec 10, 2025)

advice

avoid financial conflicts: be mindful of shared finances or joint ventures during this time.

avoid escapist spending: stick to a budget.

by this date stock up on

first-aid kits, tools, and essentials for unforeseen events. water filter / waterproof containers. non-perishables and emergency water supplies.

uranus rx in gemini/taurus (july 7, 2025 - feb 3, 2026)

advice

evaluate technology investments: make sure you’re spending money wisely on tech tools, gadgets, or subscriptions. avoid impulsively purchasing the latest gadgets; instead, upgrade only what’s necessary.

diversify streams of income: explore side hustles or gig work to expand your income sources. focus on digital platforms or innovative fields for additional opportunities.

reassess contracts and agreements: take time to revisit financial contracts or business partnerships. ensure all terms are clear and aligned with your goals.

prioritize financial stability: uranus often brings surprises, so focus on strengthening your savings and emergency fund.

avoid major financial risks: uranus retrograde can disrupt markets. avoid speculative ventures and focus on stable, low-risk options.

by this date stock up on

lightweight travel gear or items for local trips. radios, power banks, or portable hotspots in case of disruptions in digital connectivity. stockpile food, water, and household goods to maintain stability during potential disruptions. invest in high-quality, long-lasting items like tools, clothing, or cookware.

saturn rx in aries/pisces (july 13, 2025 - nov 27, 2025)

advice

review career: assess whether your current job or entrepreneurial efforts align with your long-term aspirations (especially considering the state of the world). adjust plans if needed.

strengthen emergency funds: aries energy thrives on readiness. use this time to build/bolster a financial safety net for unforeseen events.

prepare for uncertainty: build a cushion for unexpected financial changes, especially if you work in creative, spiritual, or service-oriented fields.

by this date stock up on

health products that support long-term well-being. essential supplies like first-aid kits, multi-tools, or non-perishables. bath products. teas. art supplies. drinking water or water filtration tools.

jupiter rx in cancer (nov 11, 2025 - march 10, 2026)

advice

strengthen financial foundations: building an emergency fund or reassessing your savings strategy. ensure everything is well-organized and sustainable.

by this date stock up on

quality kitchenware, tools, or cleaning supplies. pantry staples and emergency food supplies.

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return to nox's guide to metaphysics

return to the masterlist of transits

© a-d-nox 2024 all rights reserved

[killersfool]

FORCE OF NATURE ִֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָ Syril Karn

pairing: syril karn x fem oc

word count: 6.2k

synopsis: syril karn is alone.

with a new job and a new identity, six months pass in silence. but when footage of a familiar face resurfaces, he can't resist reaching out — unsure of where it will lead him.

notes: my star wars knowledge is not amazing so im sorry if anything is inaccurate. the plot will probably be really different to andor and im thinking of posting this on ao3 to make a full length fic. posting on here first to see what people think!

The apartment was clean. Too clean.

Syril liked it that way — or at least, that’s what he told himself.

Everything in its place. Shirt cuffs starched. Rations aligned with mechanical precision. The only disruption was the low hum of the kettle and the distant, ceaseless murmur of air traffic beyond the window. A Coruscant evening: colourless, endless.

He sat at the kitchen table, a datapad before him. Blank, save for the blinking cursor of a resignation letter he’d never sent.

It had been six months since the chaos at Ferrix. Since Dedra had stopped speaking to him. There had been no formal goodbye. Just silence – clinical, efficient.

He had read back his final message to her so many times, trying to find what had pushed her away. Too much admiration? Not enough control?

She had been the last thread. The final justification that his loyalty meant something — that he meant something. But even her clinical poise couldn’t disguise what he was to all of them.

Replaceable.

He sipped lukewarm caf, eyes fixed on the cityscape. He still wore the old Pre-Mor Authority uniform sometimes — out of habit more than pride — though it hung looser than it used to. These days, he kept it shoved into the leftmost corner of the wardrobe, out of sight. Seeing it stirred a dread he didn’t have the words for.

Had he made a mistake?

Now, he worked in private security — a civilian post, under a new name. Monitoring petty thefts, industrial sabotage, internal disputes between faceless corporate clients. The pay was better. The meaning had evaporated.

Sometimes, in the early hours, he’d wake in a sweat, Ferrix still clinging to his skin. Blaster smoke in his throat. That rebel girl’s voice—loud, defiant—ringing in his ears.

He should've killed her. He knew it now.

And maybe that was where it all began to fall apart.

Because Syril Karn had always wanted to be certain. About the rules. About order. About his place in the galaxy.

But once certainty cracked, once he saw the fracture in the design—what remained?

Just noise.

He watched the feeds now, cataloguing anomalies that weren’t his concern. Names flagged by the Empire. Patterns that didn’t quite fit. Faces that flickered for a moment, then vanished. And sometimes, without understanding why, he saved them.

He told himself it didn’t matter. That he was just curious.

But there was a quiet ache in him — something like sympathy, something like guilt — and he thought, foolishly, that the world might notice. That it might offer him something back. A gesture. A sign. A small kindness, arriving unannounced.

Instead, he was met with silence and static. Day after day. In his own little corner of the world.

His mother never called. When he’d left the job — the one she'd once bragged about — she’d cut the line clean. Called him a disgrace. A disappointment. Now, her messages were clipped, brittle things. He’d stopped opening them.

He liked to pretend he enjoyed the solitude. The hush of Coruscant at two in the morning, when city light leaked through the blinds in pale gold lines, striping the floor. When he wandered into the old bookshop across the street and leafed through volumes no one read anymore. Revolutionary theory. Political ethics. Words he’d once dismissed. Now he read them with quiet, guilty interest.

The new job paid well enough. He filed reports, sorted logs, watched lives play out on grainy screens. Then he went home.

To silence.

A silence so dense, it pressed against his ribs like a hand.

That morning, he looked in the mirror. A scruff of a beard he hadn’t shaved. Dark circles like bruises under his eyes. His brows grown wild. He didn’t recognise the man staring back.

Six months. That’s all it had taken.

-

Two weeks later, it was raining.

Not the kind of rain that washed the city clean. No, this rain clung to everything — oily and relentless — turning the streets into mirrors and the sky into a smudged bruise above the towers. From his window, Syril watched the droplets trace jagged paths down the glass, threading between the red glow of traffic lines and the cold silver of aerial vehicles weaving through the airways.

Coruscant never truly slept, but at this hour, it almost pretended to. A low, mechanical hum bled into the silence of his apartment, barely louder than his own breath.

He hadn’t moved in hours.

The lights inside stayed off, allowing the city’s glare to do the painting — casting long, solemn stripes across his floor and walls, slicing his face into shadow. He sat curled in the corner of the room, knees pulled to his chest, the stale taste of caf still on his tongue and the afterburn of insomnia clinging to his skull like a fever.

The alert came at 04:13.

A soft chirp, barely louder than the storm beyond the glass. It blinked once on his screen — an anomaly — and his eyes dragged toward it, as if his body had been waiting for something to break the stillness.

It wasn’t his jurisdiction.

His name wasn’t attached. No permissions granted. No reason it should’ve arrived at all.

But then... the image loaded.

Blurry. Grainy. Caught in the corner of a surveillance lens from a docking terminal on the outskirts of the mid-rim. Mist curled like smoke around the frame, lights refracted against damp metal. She was running — her head ducked low, hair caught in the wind, a bag slung across her body. The camera only caught her for three seconds before she vanished behind a crate.

Still — it was her.

He didn’t know how he knew. He just did.

There was something in her movement, the cut of her silhouette, that same precise urgency he remembered from Ferrix — like the city had been on fire and she was the only one who knew where to go.

He froze.

Not with fear. Not with awe. With... something harder to name. Like all the hollow spaces inside him had been lit, briefly, by a flickering match.

Her file said nothing useful. No name. No affiliation. No face match strong enough to generate a confirmed ID. Just one line in red at the bottom:

“Possible insurgent. Known to evade detention.”

He let the words sit there, echoing.

He should’ve dismissed the alert.

Instead, he saved the file.

Then he stood, knees stiff from hours in the same position, and crossed the room to his desk. The dim glow of the screen lit his face in a pale wash, sharpening the hollows beneath his eyes.

He opened a new document.

And for the first time in weeks — maybe months — his hands moved without hesitating. On a map. A thread spun between systems, connecting places she might’ve touched. He sifted through archived patrol logs from Ferrix, maintenance records from departing ships, faces that matched fragments of hers even if they weren’t quite right.

It wasn’t duty. It wasn’t redemption.

It was her.

Or the ghost of her.

Because Syril Karn, despite everything, still believed that people left trails behind. That no one truly vanished — not if you were paying attention. Not if you wanted to see them.

And gods, he wanted to see her again.

He didn’t know what he would do if he did.

Only that he couldn’t stop now.

-

The next day, Syril woke before the sun — if such a thing could even be said on Coruscant, where the skyline swallowed light whole and replaced it with something artificial and cold.

His dreams had been strange again. Flickers of faces blurred by smoke. The echo of boots on ferrocrete. And her voice — not words, just the sound of breath caught between fear and defiance. When he sat up, the sheets were tangled around his legs and his shirt clung to his back with sweat.

He didn’t bother with breakfast. The kettle stayed silent.

Instead, he moved straight to the desk, fingers already twitching to reopen the surveillance file. Her image blinked up at him, that same three-second clip, looping silently in the top corner of his screen. He’d watched it over and over, memorised the exact second she turned her head, how the lights caught her cheekbones, how the hem of her coat lifted as she ran.

There was something alive in her. Untamed. Dangerous. Beautiful.

And maybe that was why he couldn’t stop.

His fingers flew across the console, pulling up transport logs from nearby districts, maintenance rosters, dockworker shift reports. He had no clearance — but old habits were hard to break, and backdoors into Imperial systems had been a quiet hobby of his even before he walked away. He found patterns. Irregularities. A handful of similar sightings, two weeks apart, spaced across mid-level ports.

She was moving in spirals. Not fleeing — circling. Waiting for something.

Or someone.

By midday, Syril hadn’t spoken a word aloud. His jaw ached from the tight clench of his thoughts. He barely noticed the ache in his lower back or the way his eyes watered from the glare of the screen. Only when a loud, aggressive ping rang out did he blink out of the haze.

A message.

From his mother.

"I hope you’ve finally come to your senses. They’re hiring at the ministry. Your uncle could still get your record wiped if you stopped being so proud. Call me."

He deleted it without opening the thread.

That afternoon, he walked to the bookshop. The air was damp and sour from yesterday’s rain, puddles gleaming like scars along the pavement. The bookseller — a thin, kind-eyed woman with ink stains on her fingers — nodded to him silently. She knew he didn’t like to be disturbed.

He wandered past the political theory section again. Hesitated. Then, for reasons he didn’t yet understand, picked up a worn copy of Revolution and Memory: The Human Cost of Imperial Order. Something he would’ve scoffed at months ago.

He paid in credits and left.

That night, back in the quiet of his room, Syril sat with the book unopened in his lap. His eyes were on the window — not the skyline, but his own reflection in the glass.

He looked like a man adrift.

But in his chest, there was a flicker of something else. Not certainty — that was long gone.

Conviction, maybe.

-

It began with a face.

Not hers — not yet — but someone else from that same Ferrix clip. A man, barely in frame, helping someone vault over a barricade. Syril had dismissed him the first dozen times he’d reviewed the footage. But now, with every corner of the image magnified and scrubbed clean by his private software, he saw the jawline. The coat. The expression.

Too calm for chaos.

He wasn’t just a bystander.

Syril isolated the frame, ran it through outdated facial recognition tools he shouldn’t have had access to anymore. The result took five minutes to process, and when the match blinked onto his screen, his breath caught in his throat.

C. Andor. Alias: Clem. Known rebel associate. Status: Fugitive.

His chest tightened.

Of course.

The girl — the one he couldn’t stop thinking about — wasn’t just some byproduct of resistance. She was in it. With him.

That should’ve ignited rage. It didn’t. It was something worse — something tangled. Disappointment twisted with fascination. A burning ache he couldn’t name.

He leaned back in his chair, fingers pressed to his lips, staring at the report like it could change if he looked long enough.

She was with Andor.

The same man who had derailed everything. Who had made Dedra unravel. Who had slipped through Syril’s fingers again and again — an absence that haunted him almost as much as her presence.

He opened a secure, anonymous channel. Its name was buried under layers of encryption, but the signal worked.

He hesitated for a long time before typing.

"Meet me at the Transit Platform on District 9. I need to speak to you. You’ll know me.”

He didn’t know if she’d ever read it. But somewhere inside of him, he knew this was a beginning and that wherever this was going, it would be far from good.

He sucked a breath and sent it anyway.

The rest of the day passed like a blur — the seconds swallowing him whole. He didn’t eat. Didn’t sleep. Just paced, reread old case files, stared at the grainy footage, replayed her laugh in his head — no, not a laugh. Something sharper. A shout. A command.

She’d been fearless.

And what had he been?

Alone. Always alone.

That night, he stood on his balcony — a tiny slab of steel and gloom overlooking nothing but a back alley full of steam pipes and humming generators. Still, he stared into the dark like it might stare back. Like her eyes might be waiting there, in the shadows, defiant and unblinking.

-

The next day he found himself stood before the mirror, shaver between his fingers. He tidied his beard, brushed the long curls of hair away from his face and clipped his eyebrows. He then pulled on a loose white shirt and dark trousers, and slung over a coat with a hood which he threw over his head. It was late and the city hummed with a gentle ambience.

He walked through the streets, a strange paranoia wafting through him. He didnt know who would be there - if anyone would be there. But he definitely didnt want to be seen. He definitely didnt want to risk the kind of trouble he could get himself into.

The Transit Platform was empty. No one there but him.

He glanced down at his watch. The seconds ticked by in sharp, heavy intervals. Syril’s breath misted in the cool night air as he checked his watch again, his pulse quickening with each passing moment. The platform stretched out in front of him, silent and unmoving. He could feel the weight of the empty space around him — the expanse of the city looming like a quiet, indifferent beast.

He exhaled slowly, leaning against a nearby support pole, trying to relax. The tension in his shoulders was unbearable. What if she wasn’t coming? What if this was just another failed attempt, another misstep into something even darker than before?

But no. He couldn’t afford to think like that.

The low hum of an incoming shuttle overhead broke the stillness, and for a split second, Syril thought he heard the distinct, sharp sound of footsteps. His heart skipped. He straightened up, eyes locking on the shadows, but the movement was too subtle, too quick. Had he imagined it? Or was it her?

Then, just as the doubt began to twist at the edges of his mind, he saw it. The silhouette. Small at first, then clearer as it emerged from the darkness.

It was her.

Her coat was dark, its edges catching the faintest light as she moved with purpose, but this time she didn’t hesitate. She walked straight towards him, no pause, no second-guessing. Her expression was unreadable, but there was something in the way she held herself — the confidence, the precision of her movements — that sent a chill down his spine.

She stopped a few feet from him, silent. Waiting.

Syril cleared his throat, feeling the tremor in his voice before he could steady it. “You came." His words came out weaker than he expected. He was surprised he'd ever see her face again.

He remembered the orders he had been given on Ferrix. He had been told to follow her through the back alleys and 'get rid of her'. But they got cornered in an old, collapsing factory. Debris came down. Alarms howled. Reinforcements never came. They had both been stood in this silence, blasters pressed to each others chests, waiting for the other to press down on the trigger. Tension. Quietness. The steady rise and fall of chests and bright eyes in the darkness.

Syril had known that it was his duty to kill her. Or at least to render her unconscious but his finger wouldn't press down on the trigger because there was something in her eyes — not fear, not defiance — but recognition. Like she had seen straight through the uniform, through the polished exterior and years of indoctrination, and had found the small, flickering part of him that hesitated.

That was what scared him most. Not her blaster. Not the ceiling threatening to collapse. But her gaze. The way she looked at him like she knew.

He remembered the words she’d said in the stillness — words barely audible over the creaking metal and distant sirens.

“You don’t believe in it, do you?” she had whispered. “The cause. The orders. Not really.”

He hadn’t answered. He couldn’t. Because she was right. And that truth, unspoken and fragile, had hung between them like a thread that neither of them dared to sever.

Now, on the platform, with the silence humming around them once more, she tilted her head, watching him. Measuring something. Maybe the same hesitation. Maybe the same question.

“I thought you might’ve turned me in,” she said. Her voice was low, even, but it carried something under the surface. Not quite relief. Not quite trust. Something in between.

“I thought about it,” Syril admitted. “More than once.”

“And yet…” She gestured at the space between them with a faint shrug. “Here we are.”

He nodded, unsure what else to say. His throat was dry. The cold bit through his coat but he barely felt it.

“You saved me,” she said, her voice softening. “Back in that factory. You could’ve killed me. But you didn’t.”

“You’re not supposed to remember that.”

She smirked, something almost playful in the curve of her lips. “I remember everything.”

Silence again. The shuttle had passed now. The lights dimmed. The night stretched.

Finally, he asked, “Why did you come?”

"I think you could help us."

Syril raised an eyebrow. "Who's us?"

"We've been keeping an eye on you since you left your job. I saw you the other day buying some interesting books." Her dark eyes glowed with excitement.

Syril’s stomach twisted at the mention of his recent purchase. He hadn’t thought anyone had noticed, let alone someone who might be watching him. He fought the urge to shift uneasily under her gaze.

"You’ve been watching me?" he asked, his voice guarded. He wasn’t sure how he felt about that—about someone tracking his every move. But there was something in her tone, something purposeful, that made him hesitate before dismissing it.

Her eyes remained steady, intense. "You don’t think you’ve been living in a vacuum, do you? Not after everything that happened. We’ve been keeping an eye on the people who might be useful." She smiled, but it wasn’t a warm smile. It was sharp, calculated. "And you, Syril, are more useful than you think."

The sound of his name from her lips felt unfamiliar. He had grown accustomed to answering to his new name, but hearing those two syllables again sent a jolt through him, his heart racing.

Syril couldn’t decide if that sent a thrill down his spine or if it made him feel sick. Useful to who, exactly? To them? To whoever they were? The questions piled up in his mind faster than he could process them.

"And these books?" he asked, though the answer was already clear in his head. "What are you getting at?"

She took a step closer, lowering her voice as if sharing some forbidden secret. "History books. Books about revolutions. About the fall of empires. About the people who thought they were untouchable until they weren’t." She paused, her eyes flicking toward his watch before meeting his gaze again. "You’re reading between the lines now. I saw the way you looked at them. You’re starting to see the cracks."

He swallowed, his throat dry. There was no denying it. Since leaving his position, the world had started to look different. The uniform, the orders, the Empire—he had once believed in all of it. But now? The edges were fraying, the whole system was… corrupt. And he knew it.

"I don’t know what you think I can do," he muttered, stepping back slightly, trying to regain some of the distance he desperately needed. "I’m not one of you."

Her lips twitched, but the smirk didn’t reach her eyes. "You don’t need to be. But you’re in a unique position. You know things. You’ve seen things. And I’m sure you’re realising more each day just how much power you have over your own future."

"I’m not interested in power," he snapped, a little too quickly, his breath catching. "I just want to survive."

Her eyes softened ever so slightly, but there was a knowing glint to them. "I think you're already past that point. Surviving isn’t enough anymore. Not when the world is changing around you."

The words stung, but Syril didn’t argue. He knew she was right. The world was changing, and he had no idea where he stood in it anymore.

She took another step forward, her presence unwavering. "I’m asking you to make a choice, Syril. You’ve been sitting on the sidelines, but that’s no longer an option. The Empire won’t let you stay neutral. You’ll either be crushed by it or you’ll stand up and fight."

Syril’s mind spun, the weight of her words sinking in. He had always been the one who followed orders, who stayed within the lines. But now… now, it felt like the lines were disappearing, and all that was left was a choice he wasn’t sure he was ready to make.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” he said, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable than he intended.

“I want you to decide,” she said simply. “Decide who you’re going to be. The man who fades into the background, or the one who finally chooses a side.”

Syril didn’t speak for a long time, the silence between them growing heavier. His gaze drifted to the city beyond them—the lights flickering like stars in a sky that seemed too vast for him to understand. Was there even a side worth choosing? Could he live with the consequences of any decision he made?

And for the first time in a long while, Syril didn’t have an answer.

"First you have to tell me your name and who you're with. I need to know what I'm getting myself into," he said, his voice steadying, though the tremor of uncertainty still lingered in his chest. It was a weak attempt at regaining some control over the situation, but it was all he had. He couldn’t move forward without knowing who she was or what kind of danger he was stepping into.

Her smile didn’t fade, but there was a flicker of approval in her eyes. "Fair enough," she replied, her tone deliberate, as if she’d been expecting this question all along. "You deserve to know who you're dealing with."

She took a deep breath, eyes narrowing thoughtfully as she seemed to weigh how much to reveal. "My name is Aria. And as for who I’m with…" She paused, glancing around them briefly, as if to make sure no one else was listening, then leaned in just a little closer. "I’m with the Resistance. We’re not a formal organisation yet. But we’re building something. Something that will change the course of everything. The Empire won’t be able to ignore us forever."

Syril’s mind raced. The Resistance. The very idea felt foreign to him, a world away from the cold, calculated structure of the Imperial forces he had once been a part of. A world where things weren’t dictated by rules, where loyalty and duty weren’t enough to make decisions for you. And yet, there was something compelling about it.

"How do I even begin?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the decision settling on him like a stone in his chest.

Aria smile returned, this time with a hint of something almost approving. "You’ve already begun. You’re here, aren’t you? You’ve made the first step."

He glanced at her, unsure if it was that simple, but the more he thought about it, the more he realised she was right. This was the moment. The choice had already been made, whether he liked it or not.

"Where do we start?" he asked, finally allowing himself to hope—just a little.

Aria's gaze softened, but there was still that spark of determination in her eyes. "We start by taking down the Empire, piece by piece. And it begins with people like you, Syril. The ones who have seen it all. The ones who understand it." She turned, her hand brushing past his as she began to walk away, her pace steady and sure.

"Are you coming?" she called back, without turning around.

For a moment, Syril hesitated, but then he followed her, the decision made. No more running. No more hiding. He was ready to step into the fight, even if he didn’t yet know what it would cost him.

"Yeah," he muttered to himself, more determined than he had felt in a long time. "I’m coming."

-

Aria asked him as they approached her ship if he needed anything from his apartment. If there was anything he truly valued. She also added that they had plenty of clothes and food and he told her that he was alright in the credits department, due to how well-paid his previous job had been.

There was something comforting about her presence. He sat down beside her in the ship, peeled off his coat, and he began to ask her a question, "So, where are you from?"

Aria glanced at him as the ship glided smoothly through hyperspace, her fingers brushing over the controls almost instinctively. The low hum of the engines seemed to match the quiet tension between them, a calm before whatever adventures awaited.

"I'm from Corellia," she said, her voice tinged with both pride and a subtle sadness. "It’s... a bustling world, a place where ships are built and legends are made. The Corellians have always been known for their speed and ingenuity. But it’s a hard place to grow up, always under the pressure to live up to the reputation."

She glanced sideways, catching his eye for a moment. "I left when I was younger. The galaxy seemed like a bigger place than that steel city. I wanted more than just the scent of engine oil and the sound of ships taking off every other minute."

Her fingers tightened on the controls for a brief second, before her grip relaxed, a soft sigh escaping her. "And you? Born in Coruscant, right?"

"Yes."

A silence dragged on.

"You've been alone for quite a while, haven't you?" she said, the question soft but probing.

Syril raised a brow.

"Sorry you just seem so quiet. You were so different the last time I saw you."

Syril looked at her, his voice steady and his hand gripping his glass a little tighter. "I guess I've just gotten used to being on my own. But yeah, it’s been a while since I... had anyone to talk to."

Her mouth seemed to twist to the side a little. "Me too."

"So what have you been doing since you left Ferrix?" Syril asked.

"Watching you."

Syril shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his grip tightening on his glass, but he couldn't help the faint warmth that rose to his ears. He could tell she was teasing, but there was something oddly... intimate about her knowing gaze. Something about the way she said it, as if she had been watching him in a way that went beyond mere curiosity. "The last six months? That's what you've been put up to?"

"Well that and other things. Although, I was told not to approach you or speak to you until you made contact yourself. "

Syril’s brow furrowed at her words. Made contact? He could feel his pulse quicken, confusion mixing with a hint of something else—was it dread? He hadn’t realised there was more to her being here than the mere coincidence of their paths crossing.

"And who put you up to this?" Syril looked away, still trying to regain his composure.

"You will find out in due course –"

Aria started, but Syril cut her off, his voice tight. “It wasn’t Andor, was it? You’re not taking me to him to be questioned, are you? He’s dangerous... he’s—” Syril’s hands tremble as he says it, betraying his anxiety.

Her eyes widened with surprise. "What?"

"Andor. Cassian Andor. Was he the one who wanted me here? Are you taking me to him to get questioned? Are you going to kill me?" Now he was frightened. His mind diverting to the worst possible outcomes. “I’ve heard the stories,” Syril muttered, eyes flickering nervously to the window. “Of what he can do. What happens to people who cross him. If you’re working for him... if he’s the one behind this...” Syril’s voice trailed off, caught in the weight of the unspoken fear.

Her eyes widened with surprise, but there was no mockery in her expression. She studied him for a moment, and for the first time, Syril noticed the softness in her gaze. It wasn’t pity, but something more—concern, maybe. She reached over to put a gentle hand upon his shoulder. "No one is going to hurt you."

"How can you be so sure?"

"I know these people. They don't want to make you suffer. They want to help you. They want to hear you. We aren't like the Empire."

Syril looked at her hand now upon his shoulder, her thumb pressing gently into his shoulder blade. Her skin dark and warm. It brought him comfort. He hadn't felt human touch in a long time, there was something so odd about the feeling rising inside of him.

Syril stayed still for a moment, his mind racing with confusion, suspicion, and an unspoken yearning that he didn’t quite understand. The warmth of her hand on his shoulder was both grounding and unsettling. He hadn’t realised just how much he’d been missing human connection until this very moment. Her touch felt genuine, comforting even, and yet, part of him wanted to pull away, unsure of the intentions behind it.

He swallowed hard, trying to shake off the sudden vulnerability that crept into his chest. "I don’t know who to trust anymore," he murmured, his voice quieter now, less defensive. "Not after everything with the Empire. I’ve been led down too many false paths."

Aria didn’t pull her hand away. Her fingers remained light on his shoulder, a steady reassurance. "I get it," she said softly, her voice calm and steady. "You’ve been through a lot. But I assure you, not everyone is out to use you. Not everyone wants to control you."

Syril's eyes flickered back to her face, searching for something real, something that would tell him that maybe, just maybe, he could believe her. Her gaze met his without hesitation, unflinching, as though she could see the turmoil swirling inside him. She wasn’t pushing him, just waiting, allowing him space to breathe, to decide what he wanted—what he needed.

"I don’t know how to stop being afraid," he confessed, his words almost a whisper. "I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the betrayal to come."

Aria’s hand stayed firm but gentle, her thumb brushing across his skin in a slow, soothing motion. "You don’t have to do it alone anymore," she said, the weight of her words settling in his chest like a promise. "You don’t have to live in fear."

The silence between them stretched, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was... safe. The kind of silence that felt like an unspoken understanding, the kind that suggested something had shifted, something had broken through the walls Syril had built around himself for so long.

She then pulled her hand away and he could still feel the touch linger. He watched her as she controlled the ship as if it was routine. It was late, he found himself yawning under his breath.

"You can go into the sleeping pod if you're tired," she said. "There's some clothes in there you could change into. A shower also."

"Are you saying I smell bad?" He laughed.

Aria glanced over at him with a playful smirk, her eyes twinkling under the dim lights of the cockpit. "Not at all," she teased, though there was a hint of amusement in her voice. "But you've been awake for hours. And you’ve been through a lot. I’m just offering a little rest, Syril. You could use it."

Syril chuckled softly, the sound surprisingly light in contrast to the weight that had been lingering in his chest all this time. He ran a hand through his hair, his eyes flicking to the sleeping pod she’d mentioned. "I suppose you’re right. Been a long day... or night, or whatever it is in hyperspace."

Aria’s gaze softened, her fingers still moving over the ship’s controls with ease, her focus unwavering. "The time doesn’t really matter out here. Just... sleep when you can."

He hesitated for a moment, feeling the awkwardness of the situation settle back into his bones. He had grown so used to isolation that even simple things—like being offered a bed—felt foreign to him. But the kindness in her voice was undeniable. There was no judgment, no expectation, just... care.

Syril nodded, pushing himself up from his seat. "Alright. I’ll take you up on that."

As he moved toward the sleeping pod, he couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder at Aria, still focused on the ship. She didn’t seem like the kind of person who expected anything in return, just offering comfort and space when it was needed. It made him feel a little less alone, a little less like the world was waiting for him to fail.

The pod was smaller than he expected, but it was functional and clean, and there were fresh clothes neatly folded on a shelf nearby. He changed quickly, the soft fabric of the shirt feeling like a welcome relief after the rough, ill-fitting garments he’d been wearing for far too long. The shower was equally as refreshing, the warm water melting away some of the tension from his muscles.

When he returned to the main cabin, wet hair and a slightly more relaxed demeanour, he found Aria still at the controls, her eyes focused on the blinking lights and the smooth hum of the ship around them. She glanced up when he entered, her expression momentarily softening as she took in his changed appearance.

"Feeling better?"

"Yeah," Syril said, running a towel through his damp hair. "Surprisingly so."

He stepped closer to the cockpit, leaning against the wall, unsure of what to do next. The ship was quiet, the stars outside flickering in their distant glow.

"You don’t sleep much, do you?" he asked, observing how her hands moved with practiced ease over the controls. It was as if she didn’t need rest, as if the ship itself was an extension of her.

Aria gave a soft laugh, though it was tinged with something he couldn’t quite place. "I’ve learned to survive on less sleep than most people. It’s part of the job." She didn’t seem to want to elaborate, but the words hinted at something else, something far deeper than the routine of space travel.

Syril nodded, feeling the weight of the silence between them settle once more, but it didn’t feel as heavy this time. There was a subtle comfort in it, an unspoken connection that made the distance between them seem smaller.

"You should try to get some sleep anyway," Aria said after a moment, her voice gentle but firm. "We have a few hours before we hit the next waypoint, and it’ll be better for you in the long run."

"What about you? Aren't you tired?"

"I'm okay," she murmured. "I've gotten used to running on fumes. It’s not ideal, but it’s something I’ve had to learn."

Syril nodded and began to step away.

"You know, Aria," he said after a beat, his voice softer than usual, "If you ever need someone to take over, or if you just need to rest... I’m here."

She looked at him then, her gaze steady and perhaps a little surprised by the sincerity in his voice. For a second, it seemed like she might say something else, but she just nodded instead, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

"Thanks, Syril," she replied quietly, and for the first time since they had met, he saw something in her—something human. "I’ll keep that in mind."

He met her gaze, surprised by the warmth and care that she seemed to effortlessly give. It made him feel exposed, vulnerable even, but for the first time in a long time, he didn’t mind. He simply nodded, not trusting his voice to convey how much her words meant.

With a final glance toward her, he made his way back to the sleeping pod, settling into the small space. The bed was comfortable enough, and the quiet hum of the ship seemed to calm his racing thoughts. His body, now relaxed from the shower, sank into the softness of the bed, and his eyes slowly closed.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Syril allowed himself to drift into sleep, the tension in his body slowly melting away, replaced with the strange but comforting sensation of trust.

[narcoticwriter]

Guilty Gear Characters as Monster Hunter Monsters (Part II)

Part I

Wow, I did not expect the reception I got for my first part. Apparently, I have found the fabled niche of legend: the target audience. I also got some neat suggestions, and I'll include a few!

Everything is under the cut, as per usual:

Chipp Zanuff: Tobi-Kadachi or (Silverwind) Nargacuga

The speedy shinobi was going to get some quick monsters to match his brash, quick personality, and the first one is the Tobi-Kadachi with its speed, somersaults, and overall versatility.

I also chose the Tobi-Kadachi for the way that it utilizes static electricity. While Chipp is not usually associated with it, I see the way that it rubs off on its environment to use it to be very like Chipp in how he acts in the spur of the moment.

I also took a page from one of the people who reblogged my previous post and agree with them: the Nargacuga is essentially Chipp.

I went with the Silverwind variant because it has more control over its attacks as well as how hard it can hit. It also has another skill that younger Nargacuga does not: its Wind Cutting White Shadow.

It is also worth noting that the Silverwind Nargacuga is noted to be more aggressive than its younger counterpart, which is very much in line to how Chipp approaches... everything.

Answer: (Ebony) Odogaron or Glavenus

I understand that these monsters are quite aggressive and can definitely pack a punch, but I see Answer as an economically-minded and very efficient man.

As such, the Odogaron is perfect for him because it is built for quick, fatal damage that leaves its victim disoriented and confused as their life leaves them with a karmic quickness.

Two sets of razor-sharp claws each? Lithe, muscle-corded body? Big set of sharp teeth? Yeah, that's a creature that has a very specific purpose.

The Ebony Odogaron takes this a step further by carrying around a piece of meat in its mouth for a quick burst of energy or an additional weapon to be used in its arsenal.

With that being said, the Glavenus literally has a weapon for a tail that it sharpens with its teeth.

The shavings left behind are even conserved in a special sac in its throat that can turn into molten magma that can be spat out as a weapon.

As there's no wastage in any step of the process, I can also confidently apply this monster to Answer.

Queen Dizzy: Alatreon or Garangolm

Look, I know the Alatreon is scary and radiates an energy that has most creatures running away from it, but it's not like Dizzy's power didn't do the same damn thing in the early story, right?

With that being said, I'm going off of the Iceborne Alatreon as it aligns with more of what I mean.

The crown on its head, its control over fire and ice, and the fact that it is described as a "living natural disaster" can all be attributes applied to Dizzy.

However, the Alatreon is not a creature of peace or compassion. It is hell. It is pain. It is death. And so another creature must represent that, which is why I chose the Garangolm.

The Garangolm has an affinity with the plants and around its environment, the sap it emits also promoting growth in said plants.

While it can use fire, water, and ice in its attacks, it is also noted to be mostly docile unless provoked, which falls in line with Dizzy's overall personality.

So in summary, take the Alatreon as a marker of Dizzy's power and the Garangolm as a marker of Dizzy's disposition.

Potemkin: Lao-Shan Lung

I am well aware that Potemkin is an absolute unit, so what other monster could I have picked?

The Lao-Shan Lung is a monster that cares not for the little people around it and only focuses on the clear obstacles in its path.

In this sense, it is very much like Potemkin as his main focus is his objectives and orders given to him by Gabriel.

I also like to think that the Lao-Shan Lung has lived long and has seen much in its time, and in the same sense, Potemkin has been through a lot.

Despite this, as I've said, the Lao-Shan Lung doesn't immediately choose violence and likewise, underneath the muscles and training, Potemkin is a gentle soul that hopes for the best.

Jack-O Valentine: Kecha Wacha or (Blood Orange) Bishaten

These guys are quite goofy in application and style, but they're also quite smart in how they use their respective movesets, however, Jack-O is going to reflect these same traits in various ways.

The Kecha Wacha has a marked curiosity for anything new or interesting in the world around it, preferring to investigate it rather than fight anything, much like Jack-O herself.

The Kecha Wacha also has a myriad of tricks up its sleeves, including a sort of 'mask' that it can wear with its ears, a trunk that can expel water from a distance, long claws that it can use to climb and slash, and glide with the membrane it has around its body.

While the Blood Orange Bishaten is notably more aggressive and violent than the Kecha Wacha, I would say that its utilization of the flaming pinecones it juggles is similar to how Jack-O's minions scatter around and inconvenience her opponents

The Blood Orange Bishaten is also noted to be quite clever and while Jack-O is curious, I will also say that in some instances, she can be quite clever.

If those aren't a bag of tricks to you, I don't know what to tell you.

Ramlethal Valentine: (Crimson Glow) Valstrax or Rathalos

The Valstrax is my favorite Elder Dragon and my favorite monster in Monster Hunter period, and I think that the way it moves jives perfectly with Ramlethal.

The Valstrax's winged limbs can extend to great lengths to hit its opponents and the way it propels itself through the air can be used to levitate and blast its opponents as well.

I chose the Crimson Glow variant as while it is more tortured in a sense, it is also more tied to the ground.

I choose to interpret this as Ramlethal coming down from her perceived purpose as a tool to being a human, boons, banes, and all in the human experience.

It also helps that it is absolutely relentless in the same way that Ramlethal is when she has a task at hand.

In the case of the Rathalos (for the Valentine sisters specifically), I took a little shift and went into creatures that work in tandem.

While the pair of flying wyverns are mates technically, I will go into how they function as a unit as opposed to that aspect.

The Rathalos is more of an aerial unit that is well-equipped to fight anything that comes into its territory. Ramlethal was designed with that specific purpose of combat in mind.

Elphelt Valentine: Espinas or Rathian

While these do seem like weird choices at first, I would like to address her lore for a minute.

Elphelt was made for the specific purpose of infiltration, and as such, went along with life until a very specific moment.

In that moment, the euphoria and joy was so much so that it threw everything out of whack and shocked Elphelt into emotions proper and scrambled her objective.

In that same sense, the programming that was triggered again in the wake of Justice being properly revived caused a litany of damage and ruination.

The Espinas is the definition of the sleeper agent because although mostly passive, once that thing is awake and rightfully pissed off, it is curtains for the poor thing that dared.

It is also funny that the name 'espinas' means 'thorns' in Spanish and every rose is going to have them.

As I've said before, the Ramlethal sisters operate in tandem and as such, the Rathian does more of the job of blending in with its environment with its green hide. Elphelt was made for infiltration.

This does not make it any less dangerous, however, as it can still put up a fight and do a whole lot of damage with its teeth, claws, spikes, and barbed poison tail.

That's another few! I enjoyed this one and like I said before, please feel free to tell me what you think! This is fun.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Tim Drake & Jason Todd Angst Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

in the planter outside my front door by CosmoKid - Rated G

When Tim’s six years old, his third-grade class takes a field trip to the old firehouse in The Narrows.

By the age of seven years old, he’s learned that there’s a difference between pain and Pain, and that while adults are generally happy to deal with pain, they do not enjoy you talking about Pain.

These two things may be related.

This Dark Ceiling Without a Star by Miss_Lazy_Tuesday - Rated M

“For fuck’s sake, your chatter is going to drive me crazy faster than this stupid spell.” “Then you talk!” “There’s no point!” Jason snaps. “I can feel it, okay. It’s—there’s no emotion behind it, it’s not using my thoughts. It’s just a bunch of weird Greek echoing in my brain and a compulsion to act. And it’s getting stronger. Talking isn’t going to slow it down.” “Then what will slow it down?” After five long seconds of silence, Tim gives into the urge and viciously jabs his fist into Jason’s leg for the second time. “Goddammit, why?” Jason snaps, green briefly sparking in his eyes before disappearing just as quickly. “You are not seriously going to just sit there and wait to die.” “The hell do you care anyway?” “Because I don’t want you to die! Obviously!” “You fucking should.” 

unaware i'm tearing you asunder by hendecagrisms - Rated T

The pieces were starting to click into place, aligning to create a deeply disturbing picture. “Are you seriously saying you’ll become a missing person and fake your death for this stupid homecoming plan?” Jason interrupted, his voice full of as much judgmental incredulity as possible. The kid’s eyes skated back over to him, his face twitching into a brief frown. “What? No.” A pause. “I mean, we could do that instead, if you wanted. But to fool Batman I’d need facial reconstruction surgery and new papers and it would all have to be untraceable—,” he broke off with a scoff, shaking his head slightly. “No, it’s just smarter and more cost-efficient to do it for real.” - Tim learns about Jason Todd's return, does some research on the Lazarus Pit, and realizes that there might be a way to solve multiple problems all at once: removing himself from the picture. For some strange reason, the Red Hood doesn't seem keen on cooperating.

Grin and Bear It (I got blood on your carpet) by Alia_JuneBug - Not Rated

When Jack Drake’s business trip gets canceled, he is forced to stay at home while the legal kinks get worked out. He’s not used to having a teenager underfoot, so it’s only rational that he’s a little snappish around Tim. At least, that’s what Tim tells himself each time his dad’s idea of discipline gets harsher. Bruce had told him to take a break from Robin in order to spend some time at home with his dad, and Tim can’t say no to that. He knows Bruce is probably glad to be rid of him for a short while. And he can handle discipline. This is a Tim Drake problem, not a Robin problem anyway. There’s no need for Bruce to know anything. Things get a little muddled when an injured Jason Todd crawls through his bedroom window.

Thrown into the Storm by ThePokeOne - Rated T

"It figured, Tim thought as he trekked through Gotham's streets in one of the worst storms he'd ever seen. He'd been careless. So stupidly careless."

Or:

Tim gets kicked out, and Jason has a change of plans.

am i the only one pretending (i did it to myself) by rutaceae - Rated T

Tim doesn’t expect his latest civilian kidnapping to be any different from the rest, but when he remembers things best left buried in the past, things take a turn for the worse. Luckily, his family is here to help.

sallow skin (and they can’t look away) by Ghxst_Bird - Rated T

Bruce is off planet when Robin’s distress beacon is lit. He tries not to worry, but then Nightwing contacts him: Robin’s tracker leads straight into Gotham Bay.

1-800-ROBIN by spqr - Rated T

“Gotham Youth Mental Health Hotline, this is Jason speaking. Can I ask who I’m talking to?” There’s a long silence on the other end of the line, and then a small voice says, “I, um. Sorry, I don’t know why I called. This was a mistake. I’ll just hang up now.” “Hey, wait.” Jason drops his feet to the floor, sitting forward in his shitty cubicle. Suddenly his heart is racing and he’s not sure why, but he can’t let this kid hang up. “You don’t have to tell me your name. That’s okay. Just – why don’t you tell me why you’re calling?”

buy the ticket, take the ride by Anonymous - Rated M

Tim had always figured that if he ever woke up in Vegas sans-memory, it would be when he was older than fourteen. But there were some things he couldn’t control, and apparently whatever had happened last night that he didn’t remember was one of them.

hungry for strays by Ghxst_Bird - Rated T

Tim knows something is wrong with Batman and Nightwing, and somehow it all has to do with the new crime lord on the rise in crime alley. So of course he’s not going to stay at the manor while they’re out risking their lives. Tim leaves a note and sets out for intel on the Red Hood. Aka. Everyone is straight up not having a good time

Safe and Warm by sardonic_sprite - Rated G

Batman.

Batman lived right next door. Batman surely had a generator, or at least a fireplace and wood, or some way to get warm.

Batman took care of kids, and Mr. Wayne was really nice. He would at least let Tim warm himself back up. Maybe he could even stay just until the power came back on.

It was worth a shot.

Nervous Breakdown by AhsokaJackson - Rated T

Jay closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to push back the encroaching headache. And possibly the admittedly ironic desire to strangle this kid for his lack of self-care instincts. "Tim. Timmy. Answer me this. Where exactly is the old man? Actually, better question: Why in the ever-living hell is the answer to that anything other than 'right here'?" Tim gave a huff that sounded more tired than defiant. "Because, like I said, it's a mild case and I don't need to be under observation. I already told Bruce the same thing I told you: I'm fine." "And he believed that."

Don't You Know? by sardonic_sprite - Rated T

“How the hell did you think taking everything the real Robin had was going to make him proud of you?” Jason snapped. “I didn’t want to take anything,” Replacement cried. “I wanted to save it. It… Batman… they were… everything was just… It was awful, and, and Gotham needed… but Robin…” The kid looked up at Jason, desperation in his eyes, like he was trying to find justification from his accuser. “I-I know he wouldn’t have wanted Batman to die.”

Living Dead Boy by Terranpheum - Rated T

Tim was having a normal night photographing Batman and mourning the dead when Jason Todd suddenly breaks out of his own grave. He's unresponsive and catatonic, and Tim knows there's no way he can leave the boy on his own. So, he brings him back to Drake Manor to try and help him recover. It goes… well?

Instead of All the Colors That I Saw by SilverSkiesAtMidnight - Rated T

Dick comes around to stand fully in front of him, keeping a steadying hand on Tim’s arm. “Just because you know you’re safe intellectually doesn’t mean you always feel safe,” he says softly. “It’s okay if you don’t feel safe.” “But it’s not okay!” Tim bursts out. “Because if I don’t feel safe, then how is Jason supposed to feel safe? He shouldn’t have to feel uncomfortable just because my brain is screwed up!” There’s a faint sound by the door, barely more than an intake of breath, and his eyes snap to the no-longer empty doorway.

The Worst Kind of Crush by TimDrakeIsMyPatronus - Rated T

Civilians came first.  It was one of the foundational truths of being a superhero. Their job was to save civilians regardless of the personal cost. Each of them knew and understood the risks associated with the cape when they put it on.  Still, rules got fuzzy when one woke up underneath a building.  Or the one where a building explodes and Tim is trapped under the rubble

Last Request by destiny919 - Rated T

"Any last words, Replacement?" Red Hood casually crouches down in front of him. "Or how about a last request? I'm feeling generous. I'll do you one last favor before I clip those little wings. Whatever you want. Sky's the limit." There's only one thing he's ever really wanted from Jason Todd.

Echoes of You by SilverSkiesAtMidnight - Rated T

Graveyard mud, heavy and dark, clinging to a stained and torn suit. One shoe missing, a leg bent awkwardly and blood staining a bare foot.

Milk white skin beneath the mud, black hair hanging in muddy clumps around his ears. Blue eyes staring back at him, animal-bright and dilated in the brief moment before he flinches back from the light with a cry of pain that stabs through Jason to the soul.

His shaking hand closes around the flashlight before he can even think about it, cutting off the piercing beam and letting it spill out in shards between his fingers. For a petrifying moment as his eyes readjust, he’s sure that when he looks again, there will be nothing there.

“Tim?” he whispers.

The lean and ragged figure, tiny, god he’s so small, lowers his hands away from his face, away from his eyes wide and glittering almost silver in the moonlight.

Hands, mud-covered and torn. The red of his shredded fingernails is sickeningly dark in the broken light.

He’s vomiting before he even feels the bile making its way up his throat.

Petals for Armor by SilverSkiesAtMidnight - Rated T

There’s a small half-moon of blood under the white of Tim’s nail where he bent it. He studies the red of it, feeling foggy and dreamlike. “Can I ask you a question?” His brother’s eyes flick to him and away again, surprised and wary. “What?” His nail doesn’t hurt much, just the dullest of aches when he presses down against it. “When you were homeless, you slept with people for money, didn’t you?” Jason jerks like he’s been slapped. His knuckles are so pale where they grip the steering wheel they suddenly look more bone than flesh. “Did I -” “Was it worth it?” Tim asks, drifting like a cloud over whatever furious reaction Jason was about to give him. “The money, I mean.” His sternum slams into the seatbelt with bruising force. Unbraced for it, his head whips forward and back against his seat as they swerve off the road again and skid to a halt with a screech of rubber.

farthest you’ve ever flown by rutaceae - Rated T

When Jack Drake kicks Tim out in a rage, Tim, not wanting to be a bother, tries to make it work without getting the Bats involved. But he can only go so long without being found out, and it’s not Batman that ends up discovering his secret; it’s the Red Hood.

Familial Ties by AnonymousWhump - Rated T

What he wasn't expecting was to walk into the kitchen to find Tim,  yes Tim because he wasn't in the Robin outfit he was dressed in a hoodie and sweatpants, was that blood on his feet?  Staring at him in shock, eyes flicking from him to the phone in his hand, before mumbling a quiet,

“Jason?”  

Or, Jason breaks into the Titan's Tower to hurt Robin but his plan is quickly derailed when he sees signs of abuse.

Drop In by iselsis - Rated T

Tim's injured, alone in Crime Alley, and the worst possible person finds him. And yet it doesn't turn out as badly as Tim expected.

Watch Your Step Dear by Redaliveviolation - Rated T

Tim was having a great time watching the Dynamic Duo race across Gotham. He was getting so many good photos and he never wanted these nights to end. Too bad the heroes aren’t around when he takes a trip off of the side of a building.

[usagi-chwan]

Do you want something else?

🌸 Characters in this chapter: Chuuya, Yosano, Dazai, Kunikida, Oda, Nikolai & Fyodor.

🌸 Spoils: none!

A chapter that happens to be a self-order for today! I wanted to imagine what the characters would do if they had to work in fast-food restaurants... And I must admit that the idea itself makes me laugh 😂

Where did I get the idea? Quite simply by sorting through the folders on my phone and finding images of Dazai and Chuuya wearing Macdo caps... There you have it, quite simply 👍 the crazy backstory...!

I hope you enjoy this little chapter, I wish you an excellent read!

Chuuya

- Jaded by his job, which he finds boring, he uses his power to float orders to the customer's table. As a result, customers often run off before they have even touched their food, but fortunately they have already paid!

- Many ghost hunters have been coming since Chuuya arrived, by the way.... But also many, many girls, strangely enough.

- However, as everyone knows, our Chuchu has limited patience. If the customer is a pain in the ass and if he had a bad day, Chuuya will find nothing better to do than to throw their order straight into their head with his powers.

~

Yosano

- Very friendly during the job interview, the bosses decided in unison to put her in the next position: serving orders.

- And, for a while, customers were indeed very happy with this friendly, smiling waitress. And very pretty, too.

- At least until the tragedy. Why bother people who work, too?

- But it is perfectly possible to live without one leg or arm, after all, is it not...?

~

Dazai

- A crowd of girls has been coming every day since he arrived, so he can do nothing with impunity, since he is doing a great service with his presence alone.

- From time to time, however, he is sent out to hand out flyers in the street for the same reason, but strangely enough, he does not enjoy it as much (it makes him stand up...).

- On the other hand, he is very fond of asking girls if they would like to die with him, and there are rumors that a few have agreed, without knowing what they were getting into...

- Luckily, Kunikida was there to stop them in time and grab Dazai by the collar to force him back into the kitchens... Or with a broom, depending on the mood of the day.

~

Kunikida

- Certainly the one who is most involved and closest to the perfection of the job. Everything is perfectly cooked, perfectly aligned on the tray or in the bag...

- In a word, the perfect employee (but we already knew that).

- If only he were not constantly hassled by a certain suicidal maniac, thus marring his wonderful work...

~

Oda

- The most level-headed and thoughtful employee; where Kunikida rushes to do his share of the work (efficiently, of course), Oda takes his time, especially as he is the one in most contact with the customers, taking their orders.

- And then, without really knowing why, he attracts a lot more people too... Mostly girls, actually.

~

Nikolai

- Very good at setting the mood in the restaurant, no surprise there.

- Extremely bad at taking and preparing orders, on the other hand; it is far too boring, after all!

- He was originally hired to bring in the orders, but tended to eat half of them before giving them to the customers... Imagine ending up with half a burger and three fries on your tray after you have already paid...!

~

Fyodor

- No one knows whether he is thrilled with the job or not, not even his bosses.

- During the job interview, Fyodor remained mostly silent, answering only when necessary, i.e. when his future employer asked him a question... But that is not the problem.

- The problem was his gaze; although always neutral, it possessed a blood-curdling aura. Perhaps that is what prompted the employer to accept Fyodor's CV, who knows. Was he afraid of being lynched if he did not hire this man? That remains to be seen. But the answer seems to be yes.

- On the job side, Fyodor was requisitioned to prepare the orders, in line with what the bosses thought of him after his job interview: no direct contact with customers, or they would flee in terror.

[crystal-overdrive]

TavTash Tag Game

Tagged in my own game! Thanks @bearhugsandshrugs 🥰

Tell us a bit about your Tav!  This is Tavarina Ammakyl, 30, a Waterdelvian noble, now Grand Duke of Baldur's Gate. Before the Nautaloid she was a researcher and lecturer with the Watchful Order, and had powers granted to her by a mysterious patron that was unlike any other warlock patron she'd heard of. Academia and her patron were Tav's way out of the pressure she was under to marry well as her parent's 'spare' second-daughter.

What alignment is your Tav? How does that align or clash with Gortash? Do they agree with him morally? Lawful Neutral. Within three months of meeting Gortash she becomes Lawful Evil. She values efficiently, order and rules, and believes those who can lead should step up to do so. She's done some dark things in the name of those values, and Gortash corrupts her into viewing those acts in a positive light. Her clashes with Gortash are less about morals and more about optics; he's just entered a phase of his plan where he can be openly violent (murdered patriars etc) and she thinks he needs to pull back and continue to build his image.

What God does your Tav follow? Is Gortash's position as Bane's chosen an issue?  With where we're at in the fic right now, Tav has just learned that the 'warlock patron' she's worked with for the past decade is, in fact, Bane. Prior to that she'd had blessings from Loviatar but held no real religious convictions. She's been on a similar corruption journey with Bane, at first calling him evil and dismissing Enver's offer to raise a black keep, then realising she has respect for the church's tenets and models them in her own behaviour, before attempting a Banite ritual herself. Gortash's position as his chosen and therefore his position above Tav in the Banite hierarchy is magically enforced, which gives Tav little choice at times.

What did your Tav think of Gortash when they first met? Did they take his offer of an alliance?  She took the alliance immediately, but negotiated him down to killing the brain and using her hero status to further his grasp on the city: being the one to 'save the city' was always his plan, after all. She threw fixing Karlach's engine into the deal too, to get the party off her back. As someone who had been a reluctant leader, only doing it because no one else was willing or capable, Tav saw this as the most logical and efficient way to end things. On a personal level, she was attracted to him and admired his wit and intelligence but didn't trust him at all. Her 'patron' however, seemed to draw her towards him.

How did Gortash and your Tav get together? What do they see in each other?  My friend said they were practically married from the moment they met and yeah, that vibe is there, but it took them quite a long time to actually get together. Tav didn't trust that he wasn't attempting to seduce her into supporting policies she didn't agree with, and when she realised she held more than just attraction to him, she was concerned about how it would look to the patriars. Tav eventually threw caution to the wind after learning the truth about Bane and almost being kidnapped by Wyll. I think they are quite similar people in their drives towards efficiency, their thirst for knowledge and their complicated relationships with the trappings of luxury. Tav explicitly says multiple times that she's attracted to his intelligence and wit, and honestly he just loves it when she's doing evil shit.

What does the future hold for your Tav and Gortash? Are they in a relationship, a one time thing, are they going to rule the sword coast together or kill each other in a tragic showdown? That would be spoilers...and require me to know the answer to that question! I'm relatively certain that their alliance will hold, but what form that ultimately takes is still up for debate. And whether they'll rule the sword coast? That depends on Wyll and the Harpers...

I've run out of people to tag in this but please feel free to join in - we want to meet all the Tavtashers! 🖤

[rwby-revelations]

The World of Remnant in RWBY: Revelations, Part Two

Hello again!

Today we are going to continue our dive into the World of Remnant in my rewrite, learning more about the way the world functions and the way people have developed their society in order to survive such a perilous world.

This post is going to start with a focus on the replacements for the Huntsmen/Huntresses, the Huntsari!

A quick recap of what I covered in the last post, I came up with the gender neutral term “Huntsare” so that I could make the occupation of Hunter, as in hunting animals for food and such, different from those who hunt Grimm. 

Now, the world of the Huntsari (plural form) does not solely revolve around killing the Grimm. A lot more goes into it, and there are four subspecialties that a Huntsare can go into. They are:

Search and Rescue Grimm Extermination Civilian Defense and Education Research and Development

Search and Rescue is exactly what it says on the tin. Sometimes, people will get trapped in remote areas or stuck in places with a high Grimm spawn rate. When that happens, these Huntsari will go to investigate since they have a much higher rate of survival than the average rescue crew. For example, say a sinkhole appears, and people go in to explore only to never come back. While it’s most likely that they aren’t alive, there’s always a chance that they managed to survive and are in need of rescue, especially if they happen across an underground Grimm ichor pool. That’s when you send in a Huntsare or two, usually to help with the civilian rescue crew.

Grimm Extermination is also simple as pie. When an ichor pool experiences a surge and Grimm emerge, a lookout posted lets the Board of Huntsari know the severity of the surge. It isn’t a perfect system, some Grimm do manage to escape and mature in time to become more dangerous, but it’s a good way to try and minimize the danger. Sometimes though, there is a Grimm attack on a town or on travelers. The various military stationed throughout the kingdoms can only do so much, and oftentimes Huntsari are sent out to eradicate Grimm nests or other gatherings of Grimm. These Huntsari are constantly on the move seeking out any evidence of Grimm and trying to eradicate their presence as much as possible.

Civilian Defense and Education is more detailed than simple extermination. These Huntsari are sent to smaller towns and villages, since the military doesn’t have enough manpower to cover everything. These Huntsari patrol the areas with the local militias, while also helping to educate civilians on the dangers of Grimm and how to hide during an attack if one comes. They also are often the ones who activate Auras in these smaller towns and villages, ensuring that survival rates are higher. Larger cities are walled and protected by military stationed around the cities, so the Aura activation rates are lower in these protected cities than in more vulnerable areas. The Huntsari of this type also help teach local militia how to fight more effectively.

Finally, we have Research and Development. These are the Huntsari with a more scientific mind, seeking to learn the weaknesses of Grimm and the different types of Grimm that have developed over time. These Huntsari also work to develop better and more effective weapons that have a stronger chance against the Grimm. Weapons development often involves utilizing and experimenting with Dust, which still has an unknown origin but is constantly being studied for better use and more efficient use as well.

Most Huntsari will align with a kingdom that most resonates with them, usually the kingdom they grew up in, but some will go the freelance route and travel to help any kingdom.

In order to become a Huntsare, students at the academies have to undergo a basic curriculum. The required classes include:

Regulation and Law Sparring and Team Building Grimm Studies World History Wilderness Survival Advanced Weapons Building Basic Huntsari Economics Aura, Athletics, and Martial Arts Psychology and Sociology Infrastructure Repair and Construction Languages Religions Dust Application Glyphology First Aid

I did take some minor inspiration after watching Celtic Phoenix’s worldbuilding video for FRWBY, but I also added a few things that I thought would be beneficial to know. One thing that I know is going to be noticed is Glyphology.

Yes, I have changed it so that Glyphs are no longer solely a Schnee family Semblance. The ability to use Glyphs is something everyone can do, as they are created by using Aura. Most Huntsari only know a few basic Glyphs for survival, such as the fire Glyph for lighting a campfire or the water Glyph for fresh water. Glyphs can take a lot of Aura when used, so those with a high amount of Aura can easily excel when they learn how to utilize them effectively.

Known Glyphmasters include Glynda Goodwitch, Ozpin Noddle, and Willow Schnee.

“But Cynzi,” I hear you say, “What about the Schnees? What’s their Semblance now?”

That’s a very good question! The Schnee family Semblance is now called Summoning of the Heart and is solely going to be summoning their former enemies, formed out of their own Aura. Family Semblances are relatively rare, but they do exist. One such example is the Asal clan of Vacuo, with a similar Semblance to the Schnees except they can only summon one being that acts as their ally and is a reflection of themselves. One member of the Asal family, Nefret, can summon an Aura being that’s in the shape of a hawk, whereas another, Rabiah, can summon an Aura being that’s in the shape of a hippopotamus.

Semblances in general are a reflection of a person’s soul, and also often exhibit some of the person’s personality as well. There is often a second element that’s mainly aesthetic (Yang’s hair going up in flames, Ren turning gray, etc). It takes time and training to learn how to use these Semblances, and they can also evolve over time as a person grows. No matter what, though, Semblances are special in that they are always beneficial to the person—even if they don’t realize how.

Now, we’re going to focus on the fuel of all these things: Aura. Aura is an energy generated by the body, and is still constantly being studied by scientists to try and discover the exact source of Aura. A person’s Aura is measured by the number of aurons, and measured using an Aurabiotic spectrometer. The average Huntsare has between 1000 and 1500 aurons, and they can increase their Aura max with training. However, if a person is hit by something or someone with a strength that’s higher than their Aura max, their Aura will shatter.

Aura is also rated in efficiency. Efficiency in this case is how much Aura you need to use in an action or to shield yourself. The more efficient you are, the fewer aurons are used in these actions. It is possible to increase your efficiency rate to the point where the usage rate is lower than the regeneration rate, but that’s fairly rare—bringing us to our last metric of measuring Aura.

Aura is also measured in how fast it takes to regenerate. Some people have faster regeneration rates than others, and rest and food hastens the regeneration rate. Ether drinks, made of a special chemical compound developed long ago, also help in replenishing a person’s Aura.

Interestingly, Aura can affect a very special resource found on Remnant: Dust. Dust has a special resonance frequency that Aura matches, so when combining Dust with a Glyph it creates various effects. Dust itself is a natural resource made of a crystalline structure that can often be found along what are known as ley lines, the lines of Aura of the planet itself (so scientists believe). Different Dust types form along different ley lines and their intersections, and different areas of the world have different concentrations of Dust types. Some are also created by combining elements of two Dust types, such as Lava Dust—created by combining fire and earth Dust. The types of Dust that are known so far and their colors are:

Red: fire Orange: lava Yellow: lightning Green: wind Pale blue: ice Cyan: hard-light Dark blue: water Purple: gravity White: steam Brown: earth

Interestingly, Dust itself will actually grow back in time. Studies have shown that if enough Dust is left behind, it will gradually replenish itself. It’s similar to how some crops are harvested. There was a minor crisis where a few veins of Dust were almost completely cleared out, but laws have since been put in place to monitor just how much of this vital resource is taken from the mines. The Schnee Dust Company was the biggest offender, but due to the fact that fines are levied in proportion to how much profit the violating company makes, the SDC is now forced to be more environmentally cautious and has actually initiated programs when Nicholas Schnee was alive to help facilitate Dust growth.

I think that’s all for this post! Let me know what you think!

[the-small-cimarron-paparazzi]

Do I dare think it: Saralegui's old quest of spotting patterns and getting power and being actually excellent at what he does just think about the background made up of the first 4 volumes i say this as a fan but this is horror has factually surreptitiously ended when canon happens (actually when Carolia Arc happens)--and not even snapped but has achieved a visible ending though not one he's had in mind--and he actually has a lot of free time/agency on hand from being freed up from that box-finding-efficiency and that free time is the next journey.

Yes I say free time. Not even the freedom of making choices about the future outside of any influence from other wills and persons, which is secretly only getting to become my privately reached conclusion this year (slow reader. though I finally managed time-that-counts to finish the jpn canon! congrats to self) on where the canon might be headed.

Still can't get over how Yuu-chan's skillset is entirely order made from Shinou (which means Thematic and which means possibly Saralegui as the other side might also have something along these lines, which would very well likely be what has the chance to have been planned between Alazon and Gilbert. You can definitely see e.g. none of these 2 are thinking about other heirs: the twins being human-shinzoku/shinzoku-human is entirely plot-important, and also not just what the twins themselves have in mind cf. MA-Song.) which certainly means Shinou is really trying to do something unthinkable (not in a bad sense), like getting meta and not treating Yuu-chan's people skills as the amiable, peaceful bless it is but something to wash the world off what he doesn't think should be there with. Like what happens and is a bit likely to be taken seriously by Saralegui and maybe so forced into reality in MA-Box.

Somehow I don't think that's above or beneath Shinou. He would have very thinking-out-of-the-box-no-i-was-never-in-the-box capacities, being the shinso of mazokus/chaotic aligners + also being plausibly good at war (at least very drawn to war). Down the line it could very well be the reader's heart being torn between "OK Shinou does his war and not even in a way Kenja would object to so this is good...?" and "but kindness is not seen as kindness but so Used from somewhere above the board that's bound to be something not too good....?". With Yuu-chan's views and reactions being what might resolve the whole dilemma (I trust sensei).

But ofc all assumptions, and not to be taken too seriously. Except by me...this haunts me....

[msfbgraves]

We're in one

Do you know how you know you are living in a dictatorship?

I spent pretty formative years in the part of Germany that had only gotten out of one a little more than ten years prior. All the adults you met had been through it, all the young people had been raised by people who had been through it and had been through parts of it themselves. There was a wave of books coming out sharing the experience of it, the feelings never before spoken, the lengths people went through to protect themselves and their spirit.

Well, here is what I learnt:

You are constantly trying to get around the system.

When this millenial grew up, getting around the system was generally frowned upon. After all, the system was benenficial, and as such, needed to be contributed to.

My ex-GDR fellow students did not have that experience.

How to get any real information? How to get any consumer good that wasn't alcohol? (There was always alcohol.) How to get through winter? How to get connections with someone who could get you stuff? How to escape surveillance?

There was an inherent sense that the only way to get through unscathed was through sharing what anyone could get. Yes, fine, you could align yourself with the system, too - if it would let you - in order for the system to let you bypass it. Specialty shops for high profile party members. Travel passes for athletes, that kind of thing. Spying 'privileges'. Knowing someone who had connections abroad. But nobody, absolutely nobody, would rely only on what the system would grant an average individual working inside it. You had to know a guy who knows a guy.

None of that was strictly allowed, mind - "west relations" would torpedo any high profile career, if it got you better coffee - but not doing it was simply not feasible.

I am thinking of this so much right now with all the cost of living bullshit going on.

Everything is becoming a luxury. Heating your house. Buying soap that will not make you allergic. Not being surveilled. Making any ethical decision whatsoever. And, as it was there, the capitalist system is not completely airtight. If you want, you can indeed swerve it - when knowing the right go arounds, or sharing resources, or using other people's special memberships, or having a rich uncle, or going analog, or opting out of services or taking all kinds of extra special measures to get what you want despite the system. It's no longer enough to simply pledge your time and taxes and have access to the basic goods and services humans need to build happy communities.

"But at least you're not being bombed, so -"

No. That's straight out of the Hunger Games. "At least you're not in a real war." Wars are not a yardstick to measure humane circumstances by!

There's been a lot of talk in the last twenty years about the externalised costs of capitalism, but it is getting so hungry that these costs are no longer being externalised at all. If you're lucky enough not to get killed, you're getting squeezed, and honestly, I thought we'd officially done away with feudalism, and scrip and company towns.

I don't see much of an answer outside of political reform or revolution but I'm reaching Les Misérables levels of anger about this before going back to a well honed: "Focus on the good, look for the helpers, offer community support, be grateful" kind of response. And gaming the system where you can, not because you want to make a few bucks for a little luxury here and there, but simply because otherwise, you can't turn the heating on. And even if you can turn the heating on, you have to scheme not to get eliminated from your job in another "efficiency optimisation" measure. I'm so angry that after the world has come out of a natural threat to all our lives, the system is going right back to creating these same threats by wars and denying people food and housing.

Sure it's not the only thing going on right now. Sure, we can help each other through these milder threats to our life and sanity. But we shouldn't be forced into poverty to please the Sultan of Bahrein, or whoever is out to get yet a 1000 times more money than the coming five generations of their family could hope to spend, money that is made by increasing world hunger.

And much closer to home it's perverse that supermarkets raise their prices by 15% to offset the economies people made to keep the heating on. It's insane that my city now charges €4 an hour to park in the centre to pay for the extra assistance needed to keep people alive through the cost of living crisis. It's simply grating to have to pay three times as much for a cinema ticket and €120 per year extra for basic internet and t.v. because no one is stopping people from doing it. They don't need to. They can function perfectly well without it. But they can, so they do, driving all other prices up with them. Seriously. It's ridiculous that the public pool is now only €2 cheaper than the spa in a luxury hotel, petrol/gaslone is almost €8 a gallon so obviously they're raising the price of both parking your bike and bus tickets because of "increasing demand". And yes, I could find ways around these annoyances - they did in the GDR - but is this why people risked their lives to get away from the iron curtain?

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: Ni-dom here. Reading one of your recent reply made me sad since I myself am a textual content creator (by passion) that begins to wonder if it’s still worth it. For years I have used internet to share what I loved and connect with like-minded people, but recently it’s difficult to propose complex content: algorithms often don’t give priority to quality, and at this point getting noticed is complicated as much as developing an original idea. Besides, it’s rare to find a good online debate to take part in…

Maybe I have an out-of-date mindset, but I believe that the problem is not only mine. I don’t lack intrinsic motivation, however I know it wouldn’t be the same if I kept my texts to myself: I like that what I write has an impact on people, it’s stimulating for me to giving and receiving feedback about writing, and I don’t mind contributing to the growth of communities to which I belong.

Nevertheless, by now I have the impression of speaking into the void and being a poor deluded who would like to row against the general course of things at all costs. I'm tempted to throw in the towel, but I also suspect my bitterness may stop me from considering alternative solutions. It wouldn't be the first time I ran away because I'm afraid that I have aimed at a goal out of my reach, after all.

So, this is my question to you: how am I supposed to regain my objectivity on a question that clearly hits me where it hurts? I’m not usually that oversensitive, but for some reason I invest a lot emotionally in writing. And now I doubt what tear myself away from it is not only an unreceptive audience, but also my own lack of flexibility (since I’m not able to adapt to a context which is far from my ideal) or perhaps a snobbish attitude (since it bothers me that a lot of awful texts have great visibility and are preferred to what springs out of my head, no matter how much I apply myself). In these conditions, it’s hard for me to decide how to proceed.

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

Passion is important, but it's also important to reflect on the best ways to express it. Some ways are better than others. One method to determine the best way is to measure how "effective" it is. As you've said, you don't seem to be reaching as many people as you'd like - "audience numbers" is an objective measurement of in/effectiveness.

However, effectiveness isn't just measured objectively. You should also take into consideration what your subjective goals are. It seems that your goals are unclear. E.g. Wanting to connect deeply with like-minded people might be incompatible with wanting to reach the largest audience possible - which is it going to be?

What is it, exactly, that you want to achieve with your writing, and how should that be reflected in your plan of action? For example, if making money is your main motivator, then perhaps you have to hustle and network your way into more lucrative situations.

Generally speaking, in order to maintain purposeful direction in life:

Know yourself better by getting in touch with your preferences, needs, desires, ideals, and values

Based on the above, set an intention that serves as your compass or philosophy of life that guides all your decision-making

Reflect on your aspirations or the personal potential you hope to actualize and set concrete goals that are well-aligned with your intention

Formulate a step-by-step plan of action to reach each goal

Once you have achieved a goal, evaluate the effectiveness (e.g. did you stick to your intention?, could your plan have been more efficient?, was the outcome what you expected or wanted?, ought you set different goals now that you know more?, etc.)

If necessary, refine your intention, goals, or plans to boost effectiveness for the next stage of your progress

[oddnub-eye]

Fanservant: Naoise

Old Art of Naoise by me

Naoise

Class: Saber

Title: Deirdre’s Hero 

Gender: Male

Source: Ulster Cycle

Region: Ulster

Alignment: Neutral Good

Height: 6’2

Weight 175lbs

Parameters

Strength: C

Endurance: C 

Agility: B+

Mana: C

Noble Phantasm: E-EX 

Luck: E

Class Skills

Magic Resistance C

As a saber servant, Naoise possesses the ability to nullify magic used against him. A rank of C allows him to nullify a spell of less than two verses, but he is still susceptible to Greater Rituals.

Riding E

Another skill that the Saber class comes equipped with. While chariots were popular during the time of the Ulster Cycle, Naoise himself preferred to fight on foot, and thus has the minimum rank in this skill.

Personal Skills

Single-Mindedness (Love) A

The ability to devote oneself to one cause above all others. Naoise’s legend is inseparable from his role as Deirdre’s lover, and they are the most famous pair of lovers in Irish Mythology. For the sake of Deirdre, Naoise went against even his king, Conchobar. As long as the memory of Deirdre exists in Naoise’s heart, his determination and grit will be unfailing.

Mind’s Eye (True) B-

No matter how serious the danger, Naoise will be able to calmly assess the conditions of a battlefield in order to navigate through it, and keep himself out of danger.

Its efficiency is dulled somewhat by Naoise’s tendency to single-mindedly focus on specific objectives when in the throes of emotion.

Combat Attunement C

Legends speak of how talented the sons of Uisliu were at fighting together, and this talent carries over to Naoise as a servant. When fighting in a group of two or three, Naoise can work alongside any partner(s) with minimum need for adaptation.

Noble Phantasms

Deirdre Scaith: Although Ruin Awaits, Let Not My Heart StillRank: D-EX

Classification: Anti-Deirdre

A noble phantasm that could only be described as a “bane” in the scenario of a Holy Grail War, due solely to the fact that it can only reach its true power in the presence of another Holy Spirit.

In its most basic application, it merely unleashes a blast of darkly colored magical energy from Naoise’s sword. Compared to similar Noble Phantasms, it only has the advantage of being low cost.

The true power of [Deirdre Scaith] is only revealed in a scenario in which Deirdre is present. Naoise is ultimately a side-character in Deirdre’s legend. He was her lover, and the spark that allowed Deirdre’s destiny to finally set itself into motion.

This Noble Phantasm should be a crystallization of that truth. However, it also serves as a crystallization of what Naoise was to Deirdre: her hero. The activation of this Noble Phantasm will then give Naoise [the ability to be Deirdre’s hero]. Make him strong enough to fight an opponent, make him durable enough to see her one final time, etc. However, no ability given by this Noble Phantasm can be a “guarantee”: it can only give him a chance.

Personality

A servant who can, at best, be described as cripplingly bland. A blank piece of paper on a man, lacking so powerfully in distinctive features that if one saw him on television or read of him in the pages of a novel, one could not help but begin filling in the gaps of Naoise’s personality with their own.

His personality is agonizingly typical. He talks of honor and prefers fair fights. He displays token excitement at fighting strong opponents. He detests evil-doers. He is plainly accepting of his allies at face value. To try and judge Naoise amongst the powerful personalities that surrounded him; valiant, bloodstained heroes like Cu Chulainn and Conall Cernarch, conniving and ambitious rulers like Conchobar and Medb, or the alluring and endearing damsels such as Emer or Deirdre, Naoise looks utterly forgettable by comparison.

Bond 1

One of the three sons of Uisliu, who, prior to the rise of Cu Chulainn and Conall Cernach, were the greatest warriors of Ulster. Be it battle, hunting, or even arts such as singing and poetry, the three sons of Uisliu were beyond reproach in the ways of a warrior, and were celebrated and beloved by the province for their heroism and friendly natures.

Bond 2

Such was the life Naoise lived. He ate, fought, and slept alongside his brothers. They moved amongst the Ulstermen, never without praise far from their ears. Yet Naoise drew no joy from this life. In spite of the excitement the life of a hero would bring to anyone else, to Naoise, his life felt akin to one of drudgery. A meaningless grind, day in and day out, fighting wherever the King told him to fight, and taking part in celebration with a token grin. 

The phrase “robotic” comes to mind when thinking about how Naoise lived during this time period. He had no desire for more, no desire for less. He was empty, and simply did as the wind told.

All would change when Naoise left his siblings to go on a hunting trip alone, and was caught in a snowstorm.

Bond 3

There once was a young maiden by the name of Deirdre. Today, her fame rivals that of Fionn Mac Cumhaill and Cu Chulainn. And just like those two, she was equally famous in her own time. Or, perhaps infamous may be a better turn of phrase. The mysterious betrothed of King Conchobar, prophesied since before birth to cause ruin, hidden away until the King could claim her. None sought her out for fear of invoking Conchobar’s wrath, some did not even wish for her to come out of hiding at all, fearing the prophesied ruin.

And Naoise found her. During his trip away from his companions, he came across the hiding place of Deirdre and her nurse, and it was love at first sight…

For Deirdre.

Of course, Deirdre had been told tales of the Three Sons of Uisliu, but seeing Naoise in person bewitched her. And, perhaps, she saw the “emptiness” of Naoise’s character. Deirdre, who had no freedom in her life, seized upon the chance to craft a hero for herself, and begged Naoise to take her away from Ulster.

Naoise, who had inclination towards betraying Conchobar, refused. Deirdre, desperate, used every method in the book to get him to oblige her. Crying, begging, threats of shame, slapping and clawing at him, even threatening to use a geass to make him oblige. Naoise, eventually, obliged. Was he moved by the threats Deirdre made towards him and his brother's honor? Or was he genuinely sympathetic towards her, and needed only a little push to overcome his fear of the king’s retribution?

Not even Naoise could answer.

Bond 4

Just as he played the role of a Warrior of the Red Branch perfectly, Naoise played the role of Deirdre’s hero perfectly. After escaping with his brothers and Deirdre, Naoise was faultlessly courteous, attentive, and gentle with her. When she received unwanted advances from the King of Scotland, Naoise did not hesitate to leave immediately, even though the King had paid him and his brothers well for their services.

Eventually, Conchobar desired to retain Deirdre, and developed a clever ruse to lure her back to Ireland. He sent Fergus Mac Roich to retrieve them under false promises, making sure to have Fergus waylaid on the journey back to Ulster so he could protect Naoise and Deirdre when they returned.

Deirdre had objected to returning, still fearing Conchobar, but something had stirred within Naoise. He was oddly insistent on returning home. His passion for the prospect startled even his brothers. Convinced by Naoise’s sudden show of passion, Deirdre begrudgingly agreed to return to Ulster.

That night, they were ambushed by the forces of Eogan Mac Durthacht, who had come at Conchobar’s behest, and a great battle was fought upon the fields of Ulster. All three of the sons of Uisliu died, and Deirdre was seized by Conchobar, where she would soon meet her own tragic fate.

However, it is said of that night that Naoise had looked more alive then he had ever been before. That he had fought as if he were a savage animal, enduring countless blows, slaying countless men. He fought with an even deeper desperation than that of a cornered animal. In the end, it was only through a dishonorable blow from behind that Naoise fell.

Bond 5

It had been night, soon after Deirdre and the sons of Uisliu fled from Ulster. While Naoise was unfailingly courteous to Deirdre, he was still distant, as he was to everything. Even as Deirdre’s hero, the one she tried to shape herself, he still only “fulfilled the role”. But, that evening, he came across Deirdre crying.

As a lover should, he asked “why?”.

Deirdre stayed silent for a long moment, hiding her face from Naoise, before answering.

“It's…frightening. I’m glad to be gone…I wanted nothing more than to be gone…but now that I am gone…I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what happens next.”

“I’m scared.”

Naoise had no response at the time, only taking off his cape, draping it over Deirdre’s shoulders, and sitting back-to-back with her until she fell asleep. Naoise had no strong emotions towards Deirdre at this point. He had no reason to, and in fact, it would have been justified for any emotions he did have to be negative.

And yet, at that moment, Naoise came to a conclusion.

“This is someone I don’t want to see cry again.”

It would have been hard to see Naoise’s behavior change after that. He was still courteous, honorable, and attentive to Deirdre, without fault. But perceivable to only Deirdre…it had become far more genuine. As though the hero she had been trying to mold came to completion without any effort on her part. 

For the first time in his life, Naoise’s heart had come alive.

And yet, it would be that very birth of passion that would lead to tragedy.

When Conchobar sent Fergus, carrying those fateful false promises, Naoise’s newfound passion made him feel homesickness even stronger. But even more so than homesickness, the idea of working back into the King’s good graces, to benefit from Conchobar’s great wealth in order to give Deirdre the best life he could, to give her a life better than the life on the run they had been living. So, he insisted they return to Ulster.

He only realized his mistake when the ambush came, and so fought against Eogan’s forces not with the desperation of a man fighting for his life, but with the unmatched conviction of a man who sought to repent for his greatest sin. Every warrior was just another body between him and seeing Deirdre to safety. Nothing mattered other than her. There was no choice other than to fight on, no matter how many wounds he took on. He would save her, no matter what--

Naoise only stopped thinking of Deirdre when he could not think any longer.

And so ends the tragic tale of Naoise, whose newly awakened heart only succeeded at breaking itself.

Motive and Attitude towards Master

Naoise serves his master loyally, not dissimilar from a servant such as Diarmuid Ua Duibhne. He views his master as his lord, and fights with an appropriate amount of loyalty. That being said, as a result of Naoise’s experiences with Conchobar, he cannot take a “my master, right or wrong” attitude. Although loyal and polite, Naoise will not hesitate to speak out when he believes his master has stepped out of line or acted dishonorably.

His wish, the one that motivates him to fight for the Holy Grail, is to apologize to Deirdre. To apologize for the mistake that led both of them to their tragic fates.

Even deeper than that, however, is Naoise’s desire to truly save Deirdre. To be the hero she had wanted so much.

Relationships

Cu Chulainn

The hero who rose to prominence soon after Naoise's death. Naoise recognizes Cu Chulainn from the brief period Cu Chulainn was in the Boy Troop while Naoise was still in Ulster. He’s happy that Ulster got such a wonderful hero to replace him and his brothers.

Conall Cernach

Another hero who rose to fame after Naoise’s death. Although Naoise holds the death of one of Fergus’ sons against Conall, he acknowledges Conall wasn’t fully aware of the situation. Naoise is happy Ulster had such reliable heroes after his death.

Fergus Mac Roich

When it comes to Fergus, Naoise regrets not being able to protect the man’s sons. Fergus, thinks Naoise's stance is utterly ridiculous, and if it ever comes up, will remind the younger man that the blame falls solely on Conchobar’s shoulders. In spite of both of them typically having friendly attitudes, their shared history leads to Naoise avoiding Fergus and vice-versa.

Paris

Naoise notes something of a common thread between he and Paris’ legends, and thus attempts to act as a brotherly figure to the Trojan Prince. How Paris’ actual big brother responds to this seems to vary based on the day.

Bibliography

The Tain, translated by Thomas Kinsella

Early Irish Myths and Sagas, translated by Jeffery Gantz

Cuchulainn of Muirthemne, Lady Augusta Gregory

Oxford Dictionary of Celtic Mythology, James Mackillop

Myths and Legends of the Celts, James Mackillop

The Deaths of the Sons of Usnach, translated by Eleanor Hull

[freetrialshop]

Music Distribution: TuneCore Review – The Honest Truth

What TuneCore Does

Although we’ve already covered a bit about what TuneCore has to offer, I want to take a step back and begin with the basics of what TuneCore actually does. 

Perhaps you’ve heard of digital distribution but weren’t sure what exactly that means. 

In short, they serve as the middlemen between you as the independent artist and music platforms like Spotify, Apple Music, Tidal, and more. Essentially, they help make your music available to the public for consumption. 

Platforms like TunCore also have to evolve with technology and changes within the music industry. The way music is consumed continues to change and as an artist, you want to maximize your potential to be heard as much as possible.

This leads us to our next point on where TuneCore can distribute your music.

Outlets & Release Options

TuneCore allows you to distribute your releases to over 150 digital stores and streaming services across 100+ countries worldwide. Beyond that, you get to pick and choose which stores you want your music distributed to.

What this means is that you don’t have to take the time to fill out paperwork, submit files, deal with approval processes, wade through guidelines, or deal with all of the other hassles that often come with digital distribution.

Not only does TuneCore handle this for you, but the company knows this side of the industry inside and out. This knowledge and experience, combined with close relationships with streaming platforms and digital storefronts, ensure that everything is handled efficiently and professionally.

While TuneCore works with major storefronts and streaming services like iTunes and Spotify, it also provides inroads to get your music listed on lesser-known, but still popular, sites and services.

Distribution To Social Platforms

Beyond distribution to streaming services and storefronts, you can also have TuneCore handle distribution to social platforms for additional exposure, sharing, and earning potential.

Even if social media platforms aren’t going to be your primary focus for marketing your music, you can’t deny social media’s influence on viral sharing.

From YouTube Shorts to TikToks to Instagram Stories, there’s no shortage of ways to leverage social media sharing to spread the word and get your music in front of huge numbers of potential fans quickly and without a lot of investment.

TuneCore is ahead of the curve on this in my opinion as the company offers a number of affordable ways to market music using social media.

Currently, there are no upfront costs to opt for releases with YouTube Content ID or other social options.

Although this differs slightly from other TuneCore services in that you do split revenue, there are no annual subscription costs to utilize these services.

I like to think of social through TuneCore as an added bonus that generates passive income, despite the split.

More importantly, I see these options as marketing tools. I use social media to gain added exposure and new fans instead of using it to make sales directly.

I want potential fans to see the name of the artists I’m producing, share posts and tracks with friends, and then funnel these shares into sales in the future.

Something else to consider in all of this is that social sharing encourages fan feedback, and in many cases, this is going to be as objective as it can get.

Because your music has the chance to reach new audiences who are engaging organically, you have the ability to hear straight from the horse’s mouth about what people like and don’t like about a particular aspect of a track, album, or musical concept.

Release Dates & Pre-Orders

Scheduling and promoting release dates are crucial for building hype around an album or song release.

This has become even more important in the digital age where social media hype can go viral around the world in a matter of hours.

With the help of TuneCore, you’re able to select a release date that aligns with your marketing plans.

You can also incorporate a pre-release campaign into your marketing strategy while using TuneCore.

The company allows you to make your album or single available for sale on iTunes before your official release date. This not only helps to build anticipation, but it can also give you an idea of your expected sales before release.

Unfortunately, TuneCore only allows you to do this with iTunes and no other store at the moment.

The company suggests that you provide between three and four weeks of planning to execute this properly. Although pre-release services are only available for iTunes at the moment, most artists utilize iTunes as a mainstay for releases anyway, so it shouldn’t be a deterrent.

[archive-z]

#yknow mayfair witches was really not good but one thing i did find interesting was the use of static to denote missing memories#static scratching when the memories are being taken; static fuzz where they used to be tags via @fascinationstreetmp3

idk what the etiquette is on replying to tags so forgive me if this is overstepping but i read the phrase “static to denote missing memories” and it Activated My Trap Card — i wrote a whole thesis on using analogue noise in recording technologies to represent traumatic memory loss in autobiographical performance art + i design paper props (amongst other things) as part of my day job, so i have absolutely spent an inordinate amount of time thinking abt the Hate and Ashbury book cover.

my favourite quote abt noise comes from David Novak, who characterises noise as:

byproduct of technological reproduction that interfered with reception of a message (i.e., static in a radio transmission, distortion over a loudspeaker, or hiss on magnetic tape). The ‘signal-to-noise’ ratio identified the balance of interpretable to uninterpretable sound, in which noise should be reduced as much as possible to maximize the efficiency of communication. But even in its pure distinction from signal, the presence of noise in sound communication is far from meaningless. Attention to noise helped listeners to perceive authentic relationships with and resituate music and speech in new ‘discourse networks’ (Novak 128).

static is a great audiovisual shorthand for memory loss bc it communicates the failure to make traumatic memory legible to oneself & others. daniel’s memories of 1973 are full of holes (missing puzzle pieces) and then the cassette tapes arrive at his door and he has to listen thru the distortion (and degradation of the physical tapes themselves) in order to access the memories he had buried back in the 70s. (like i know we’re dealing with Vampires Who Can Erase Memory but also plain ol’ ptsd does so much neat stuff to yr memory, i would argue the show is very much going for a “yes, and” approach here).

in the 20th century, the rapid proliferation of recording technologies fundamentally changed not just communication but also how ppl understand memory — you can see it pop-up in all kinds of places from krapp’s last tape by samuel beckett, to Station to Station by David Bowie, to the brainwashing program the ipcress file (which aligns very closely with the very much real life use of noise & tape loops in the MKULTRA experiments). the other day, i was reading abt early silent film & found ppl remark how striking it was to realise that one day they would be able to continue watching films of people even after they had past away — creating man-made ghosts out of light and shadow and celluloid. (grace’s photo is on albumen!!!! a photojournalist would KNOW THAT)

from the very first scene, iwtv makes a deliberate connection between daniel, traumatic memory, and analogue media in the form of the voices on the tapes as a kind of ghost/haunting. bc they’re representing so many distinct time periods, the production team has paid a hyperspecific attention to developments in technology, especially lighting and especially especially recording/media technologies — Louis’ photography in Paris is a kind of recording technology, just as much as daniel recording interviews on cassette. (moreover, SO MUCH is conveyed by what 2022 daniel decides to record/not record digitally in dubai, aghhhh). (his online course that highlights how smart phones as a type of recording and communication technology have yet again fundamentally reshaped the landscape of journalism? aghhhhh x2) (the ripped out pages of claudia’s diaries as a kind of traumatic memory loss? aghhhhhh x10,000)

from what i can tell, the cover has a grainy b&w analogue photograph lbf as young daniel, with his face partially obscured by crt tv static. this is juxtaposed by the contemporary digital colour author’s headshot of daniel, clearly in his 60s. (i’ve written elsewhere that i’m pretty sure the late david carr’s autobiography, night of the gun was inspiration for Hate & Ashbury). the serif typewriter font is also signaling another analogue technology of the journalism trade pre-digital era. and the crt tv static? the thing that makes daniel realise he wasn’t in that apartment for one night as he (and Louis) initially believed? watching Spiro Agnew on that crusty old crt tv set — which i believe was a black & white set iirc, despite colour tv being an available consumer luxury for at least a decade by that point (correct me if im wrong on this one tho).

i should probably wrap this up bc i’ve gone on way too long, but mark fisher’s the weird & the eerie has some more rly cool stuff to say about recording technologies and hauntology, as do nick groom and roger luckhurst and svetlana boym

half of daniel's memoir being covered with static thats wiping away/obscuring the full picture is sooooo fucking delicious i love it

[calateralrobot]

Okay, so listen.

I’m not saying I’ve been stalking Blondie.

I’m saying I’ve been… tactically loitering in areas where he happens to be. For SCIENCE. For EDUCATION. For the BLOG.

Because this man—this absolute legend in a tie—might be the single most efficient cursed energy user I’ve ever seen.

SUBJECT: Blondie

Height: Tall enough to step on me (emotionally)

Vibe: Business goth

Aura: Like if your tax auditor was also a warlock

Alignment: Lawful Hot

DAY ONE: THE FIRST SIGHTING

I followed a tip about a minor curse infestation near a bakery. Saw Blondie walk up in a suit with his sleeves rolled up like he’s about to commit haunted debt collection.

He says nothing. Just slices like he’s cutting time itself.

Curses die instantly.

No flair. No shouting. Just efficiency and disappointment.

He apologizes to the bakery staff. I nearly faint.

Probably only a bunch of grade 4 and 3s?

DAY TWO: THE OBSERVATION ESCALATES

I tail him from a distance (hidden by a potted plant).

Blondie visits THREE cursed sites in a row and defeats EVERY SINGLE CURSE with:

- One strike.

- Zero wasted movement.

- The cold, clinical fury of a man who is ten minutes late to clocking out.

Technique: Ratio Technique.

He literally divides the target’s body into a 7:3 ratio and hits the weak point.

That’s it. That’s the move.

It’s literally just math violence.

I’ve never felt so respected and so attacked.

(PS. He was just explaining it to the curse as they fought?)

DAY THREE: HE KNOWS

I’m watching from a vending machine enclosure (don’t ask) and he STOPS MID-FIGHT.

Turns slightly. Looks around. Brows furrow.

He does not speak. He just adjusts his tie and goes back to murdering the curse. I sit down. I re-evaluate my life. I drink a canned coffee in fear.

Am I next?!??!!!

THINGS I’VE LEARNED:

- Blondie fights like he’s on a cursed payroll and the deadline is now.

- His cursed energy control is flawless. No leaks. No waste. Like a spiritual Tupperware.

- He carries himself like he’s already over this, and I respect that.

- His power is in the precision, not the power. It’s the clean hit. The exact strike.

(And the sheer intensity of his “I don’t want to be here” aura.)

- Sixth sense for being watched??? Hasn’t spotted me but is paranoid.

CONCLUSION:

Blondie is the jujutsu world’s answer to Batman, if Batman were a deeply exhausted civil servant with a cleaver.

I would die for him. I would also like to be him.

I am currently designing a fan-made “I <3 7-3 Ratios” T-shirt. Please message me for pre-orders.

— L

(hidden behind a lamppost. still watching.)

((PS - I know his name but realize I shouldn’t use anyone’s actual names for safety reasons))

[168p]

What to Ask Your Butterfly Valve Manufacturer Before Placing an Order?

When you're sourcing equipment for industrial applications, asking the right questions is key—especially when it comes to butterfly valves. These components play a vital role in controlling flow and pressure in various processing systems, particularly in industries that rely on precise material handling. Choosing the right butterfly valve manufacturer can significantly impact your operation’s efficiency, safety, and cost-effectiveness. Before committing to a purchase, it's crucial to assess not only the product specifications but also the manufacturer’s ability to meet your needs. At Meto Systems, we understand the stakes involved in industrial operations, and we've learned that the best outcomes begin with informed decisions. Here’s what you need to ask before placing your next order.

What Materials Are Used in the Butterfly Valve Design?

One of the most critical questions to ask any butterfly valve manufacturer is about the materials used in production. This directly affects the valve’s resistance to pressure, temperature, and corrosive substances. Stainless steel is often preferred for its durability and hygiene in food, pharmaceutical, and chemical environments. At Meto Systems, we work with clients who rely on valves that hold up under harsh industrial conditions. So, if a manufacturer can’t explain the rationale behind material choices -or if they use substandard metals- it’s a red flag. Always make sure the materials align with your specific processing and regulatory needs.

Can the Valve Meet My Industry’s Compliance Standards?

Regulatory compliance is non-negotiable, especially in sectors like food, beverage, or pharmaceuticals. When working with a butterfly valve manufacturer, ask whether their products meet certifications such as FDA, 3A, or ASME standards, depending on your industry. A reliable manufacturer should be able to provide documentation and a clear explanation of how their valves comply. Meto Systems serves highly regulated environments, so we know the importance of this step. Ensuring compliance not only keeps you out of legal trouble but also protects your product integrity and brand reputation.

What Valve Sizes and Configurations Are Available?

Different systems require different valve sizes and connection types. A competent butterfly valve manufacturer should offer a wide range of sizes, pressure ratings, and customization options. Before you finalize your order, clarify if the valves can integrate smoothly with your current piping systems or if special adapters are needed. At Meto Systems, we’ve seen operations grind to a halt simply because of mismatched valve dimensions. You want a manufacturer that listens to your specific needs and has the flexibility to adapt their product offerings accordingly.

What Is the Lead Time for Manufacturing and Delivery?

Time is money in industrial operations. Long delays can disrupt production schedules and result in financial losses. Ask your butterfly valve manufacturer for realistic lead times and whether they offer expedited shipping if needed. Also, inquire about in-stock options versus custom builds. At Meto Systems, we advise clients to establish a clear timeline upfront and verify the manufacturer's ability to meet it. Don’t wait until you’re halfway through a project to discover that delivery won’t happen for another six weeks.

Are Technical Drawings and Product Documentation Provided?

Comprehensive documentation is essential when integrating new components into existing systems. A professional butterfly valve manufacturer should be able to supply technical drawings, pressure and flow ratings, and installation instructions. These materials help engineers and technicians ensure the valve is correctly implemented. Meto Systems frequently collaborates with facility engineers, and we know how important it is to have accurate specifications on hand. Lack of documentation can lead to errors, delays, and additional costs during installation or maintenance.

What Kind of After-Sales Support Is Offered?

Support doesn’t end after the product is delivered. Make sure your butterfly valve manufacturer offers robust after-sales services, including troubleshooting assistance, warranty coverage, and availability of spare parts. At Meto Systems, we've seen how strong post-sale relationships contribute to long-term operational success. A manufacturer that stands behind their product adds tremendous value to your investment. Don't hesitate to ask about training, installation guidance, or scheduled maintenance services—they could save you a lot in the long run.

Can the Valves Integrate with Automation Systems?

In today’s high-tech industrial environments, many companies are upgrading to automated systems. Ask whether the valves provided by your butterfly valve manufacturer can be fitted with actuators or integrated into automated process control systems. Compatibility with PLCs, sensors, and other technologies is increasingly important. At Meto Systems, automation is a key part of the material handling solutions we offer, and we recommend choosing valves that are future-ready. Making the right decision now can save significant time and costs down the road.

Conclusion

Choosing the right butterfly valve manufacturer is more than just comparing prices—it’s about aligning your operational requirements with a provider who understands your industry. From material selection to compliance, automation compatibility, and after-sales support, every detail matters. At Meto Systems, we encourage our clients to ask detailed, informed questions before making a commitment. This ensures not only a smooth installation but also long-term reliability and operational excellence. When you’re investing in something as essential as flow control, don’t settle for vague answers or off-the-shelf solutions. A well-informed purchase today leads to fewer headaches tomorrow.