#it's pretty innocuous at this point in the story but with the added context that Roman was the primary target for Logan's physical

[bitchthefuck1]

I never noticed this before, but in Austerlitz when Logan runs at Kendall like he might hit him, Roman tries to reach out and stop him.

The only other time we see Roman actually try to fight back or intervene is when Kendall tries to grab Shiv in the finale.

[penultimate-step]

JJK S2 Livewatch: Eps 1-4

I started watching jjk s2 recently. it's pretty interesting. I didn't really like S1 or the movie, and don't know anything about the manga, so my expectations were pretty low, but I was pleasantly surprised.

this arc is a flashback to gojo's school days, taking place far before the main series proper. It also focuses on Geto, the villain from the first movie, pre-villainous turn. Most of my thoughts on this arc relate to the nature of flashbacks. It's inherent to these kind of arcs that we already know how things end up, and it's up to the writing to make us care within those constraints.

This arc does that in two ways. The first of these is by conspicuously demonstrating differences between the status quo and how things are in the main story, making the audience question ho w we're going to get from point A to point B. The call-forwards towards the future were very blatant, but in a good way, that solidly emphasized the differences rather than making me feel talked down to by the narrative. Gojo confidently proclaiming "we're the strongest," to directly contrast his "I'm the strongest" from S1 instantly contextualizes the relationship between Gojo and Geto, and with the added context from the movie, does retroactively make main timeline Gojo feel like a much lonelier, isolated, character. This is following from a scene where the two compare philosophies and show that they have the opposite moral views that they did in the movie - all these elements are bright flashing signals to us know that this arc is going to have it's main characters undergo drastic changes.

The second way the arc works is by having a limited threat. The mission this time is to deliver a young girl, Riko, to be sacrificed to Tengen. In opposition: multiple groups that want to stop this, by killing her. Thus, the threat is self-contained - win or lose, Riko will be dead by arc's end. Unlike the rest of the cast, who we know survive to the movie, the opposite is true of Riko, so her ultimate fate is a source of legitimate tension. Due to her fated death, this tension can be maintained even in the presence of gojo, who in S1 has been something of an "I win" button for the cast.

Speaking of: the fight scenes in this arc. Okay so I know this is a very subjective, personal hot take. literally nobody I've talked to about this has agreed with me. But I didn't like most of the fights in S1! I thought they were overanimated, too much style and flashy camera tricks over substance. But either the show changed or I've changed, because I didn't feel that way about these fights at all. Though part of that, I think, is because the series leaned into it more. At first, because the fights were more limited in scope - for the first 2.5 eps, none of the fights even try to have tension. Its Gojo! We know how these are going to turn out! fights become more humorous excursions and excuses for the characters to play around and do their thing. some battles are skimmed, theres even a moment where a seemingly dramatic cliffhanger is just resolved instantly offscreen because, come on did anybody think there was a real chance of loss here? It's really funny, and ironically the show taking itself less seriously allowed me to be more invested than I would have been otherwise. This buy-in is then paid off in the finale, where the contrast in tone emphasized the real stakes suddenly appearing.

Which leads to thoughts on the villain and the dramatic finale. The way Toji was built up was fun. Cutting to him every so often to remind the audience he exists, showing him doing seemingly everyday innocuous activities that nonetheless make him feel intimidating. The ramen restaurant scene is probably my favorite of these; Toji is casually eating a meal, betting on races, and talking on the phone, but the way he casually disregards all those around him while the anime plays scare chords.

That said. His appearances, while distinct, aren't fully a tonal whiplash. because the main plot is still that Riko is going to die, has been raised as sacrifice by the good guys and her only worth to anybody is dead. So even as the main plot has the main characters goofing off, the melancholy thought of death is just around the corner.

All these separate emotional beats come together and culminate in the big shock scene at the end of ep 3. Geto reveals that he and Gojo had decided from the start to save Riko's life, something that I didn't see coming but in retrospect should have. This ties back to the earlier threads about their protagonists' morality, and Riko's fated ending. She has a monologue and flashback as hopeful music plays, hinting that things might end differently...before Toji kills her. Brutal scene, seriously, but I can't help but appreciate how this is the capstone of how the show makes Toji grab the tone of every scene he's in to his own pace. the shock value of the music and camera suddenly just abruptly cutting out when he's arrived...very well put together.

The fights too, both with Gojo right before and with Geto directly after, are also amazing. just really well paced, choreographed, etc, flashy and bombastic but with none of the unneeded flourishes of S1. Just extremely well done and very impressive.

Technically there's a third serious fight after all this, when Gojo returns. but honestly that fight is so one sided that it's more a denouement than any real battle. The imagery in that one is kinda crazy though. Delicate piano music plays and nature shots flick by as the sun shines down on Gojo, giving him a kind of divine appearance. He floats and rises above Toji, metaphorically rising to a higher level of existence than him. This is also where he says his famous line that I've seen everywhere on the internet, which I now finally have context for. Apparently it's a Buddha quote?

This might be making a pretty far reach but by showing Gojo in a divine light at the same time as we have an arc about the supposed divinity of Tengen makes me think JJK is intentionally paralleling them - showing these two fulcrums of the jujutsu world, both reaching to a "divine" level, but that divinity is inherently inhuman - Tengen needs to absorb Riko or he'll lose his capacity for thought. meanwhile when Gojo achieves his mastery of limitless he briefly loses all control of his emotions - he spends the whole final fight jumping between emotionless serenity and manic rushes. In JJK, to be a god, one cannot be human.

Anyway. Overall I really liked this arc. my expectations were low going in but after this I am much more enthusiastic about the rest of the season.

[asuka--langley--soryu]

I know this is kinda weird but have you noticed that the girls’ proportions are completely off in most promotional material? Like in the anime (not the rebuilds, ew) they’re pretty like, normal, but in promotional material their waists and spines seem to vanish. Is it just me?

first of all, I genuinely love how many asks I get that start with ‘this is kind of weird’. You’re all freaks <33

second of all, yea definitely this is a thing. To whatever level the proportions in the anime are already exaggerated they are usually pushed further in advertising material. On some level this is kind of innocuous--Ads/promo material tend to be a lil off model and generally lack overall design consistency with the ‘official’ designs (e.g. asuka’s hair colour) and i’d imagine (and these are literally just guesses I don’t actually know anything about the animation industry lol)  that has to do with them being given less time/consideration as the more ‘official material’ and also maybe the artists working on it. i mean fuck the designs are barely consistent in the anime so i’m not surprised there are some discrepancies in the promos.

However, yknow, fan service as a concept is literally advertising--selling the artificial (and thus infinitely more consumable) idealized body as sexual commodity. so it only makes sense that when placed in a situation where the commodified body is literally being used to sell something, this would only be further emphasized--leading to the kind of stupid proportions and poses we see in some of the advertising. the point here is to produce a body which is inherently unattainable but completely consumable and I think it has to be a little unreal and exaggerated because thats such a central part of the appeal of the artificial body--that it isn’t real but its real enough,that objectifying it is possible but guiltless bc it is already an object.

in the anime, this particular kind of marketing is secondary to the plot, thankfully, which is why the designs are more ‘normal’ (in shades and variations). the strength of the anime is that it is not trying to invite its audience’s investment based on the appeal of the bodies on display but instead on the strength of its story. Fanservice is present, obviously, as a sort of secondary effort at capturing the audience, but it’s not central. in advertising material that is all there is, so it makes sense that its more evident/obnoxious.

I will say the radioeva stuff is usually the exception to this, but probably thats a combo of the particular aesthetic they are pushing and that theyre selling real clothes and so use more realistic ‘models’.

i’m gonna rb this with a link to an essay that talks about vocaloids as commodified bodies and bodies without organs bc it gets at this a little bit and is overall really fucking interesting. obvs vocaloids exist in a more specific context then general anime bodies but certainly you can apply a lot of the ideas.

[thanidiel]

Simulacrum

The body has a problem with realising when things have really changed.

It’s simply not made with that sort of paranoia, hypervigilance, in its nerves. It is an effort, an education, to have the sort of perceptual sensitivity that Xiaohu is so infamously known for amongst her fellows. Or maybe more than that; some days she thought of it like a rewiring. Like those before had pulled her squirming channels from her and threaded something more cool, mercurial/reactive, into her.

With more forgiving suns, moments of revelation like this debunked that conspiracy. Brought her feet just a little closer to the soil.

It is not common to be so placidly adaptive - to forget the onset of newness until a coincidental look over shoulder reminds her that there used to be yellow earth where a sea lay; blood where a smile forms.

It is something very innocuous in someone who is more ambiguous than that.

And it is something that only strikes her when she is engulfed in it, this, them, us.

This is calm.

This is calm. Not calm as in, quiet. Nor calm as in, there is no reason to be otherwise. Not the kind of calm she feels in most other moments, people, where the dearth in her is like an impossible weight. This is calm like, she is only existing and nothing more intensive than that.

What a rare, delightful, circumstance.

Could she say she has felt this same lax note outside of this?

Not really.

Not with other people.

And it doesn’t feel this same sort of pretty when it’s just herself.

It feels inaccurate to attempt to say that she’s gotten close. She’s never gotten this close, not under this name, this life, with those others. Nor the skin previously worn. Calm as in, steady and accepting, is not the same as calm as in, comfortable.

Avenai’s always been her respite from it all - that sanctuary to slam the door shut on, to barricade with her shoulders riding against wood, and to breathe within. Always, always, and always. Ever since the start, before anyone else, after anyone else. No one could even move to deny that bond between them, to overwrite it. To say that she loves Avenai is too shared of Xiaohu’s feelings with others. It feels better to label it as she is connected with the stark woman.

Torithas, well, Torithas was a bit more new to this, them, us. But not unappreciated and never unwelcomed. He is his own sort of safety. Not a room, nothing so bleached (and thus so uniquely Avenai), but an oak. A gnarled thing bigger than a person will ever be, everlasting and enduring. A metal shorn-and-scarred thing that simply crept its wood over attempts to shape it. Someone she could always shelter under and speak to, and observe the fashion in which his very grain hears.

That is calm.

Calm as in, comfortable.

This, them, us.

They crowd her currently, atop of this bed meant to be grandiose to Eastern travelers, and thus entirely too small to contain the two Garleans. Nevermind adding herself to the mix, nevermind the meals taking up the scant space not occupied by form, and nevermind how they all have made reverent room for the little booklet centered here.

This, them, us.

“...everything is a story, like I was telling Torithas. The doublespeak in how we speak - allusions to previous literatures, people. But then it goes deeper than that. The language, itself, is structured like a story. It requires a sort of interpretation that is not there in the same way as Eorzean or what was spoken in Ilsabard.”

"It is the knowing of calculus before physics and architecture. Without the formative context, the varying levels beyond are without concrete source and explanation...  or, the way statesmen utilize history and understanding of the propagated narrative to cajole concessions. The methodology goes deeper, the way you describe—— as though the self referentialism comes down to the very syllables and rhymes in the words, which I do not believe is shared in other languages, for the most part."

IT IS NOT. ABSTRACT. Decisive motions of his broad hands communicating thoughts as lengthy as their own in such few ‘words’: this commentary on the unfamiliar poetic fashion of language that Xiaohu has been introducing to the man more and more. Its keen contrast when held up to the concrete, uninterpretable, and demanding language insisted to the two militant individuals here. Strange, this idea of communicating through ideas as ‘optional’ as these stories.

“‘Bingo’,” the foreign slang rolls from her tongue as she presses her fingers delicately against a column of characters. “We’re starting with proverbs, tastes of wisdom, because I think it’s the easiest way to get an idea of how this all pulls together. Let’s look at this one for example:”

自

“This is the character for ‘self’ from ‘eye’. Look at it side-ways, and you see that eye. The sclera flanking top and bottom, and the iris in the middle. Then you see this dot right here, yes? That’s a finger, it’s pointing at the eye, the individual, like you’re pointing at yourself.”

知

“‘Arrow’, see how you can see the head, then the shaft, then the fletchings in this context. And ‘mouth’ because it’s open like one does. This is what makes a word for ‘knowledge.’ Knowledge is swift and sharp, like an arrow, and it comes from you speaking; your mouth.”

之

“You see that dot again from ‘self?’ It shows up here again because you’re pointing again, but with a different context. Those strokes below are a foot. You are pointing at a moving person; thus you are speaking of someone outside of you. This is a character you use for others.”

明

“‘Bright’, the first character is ‘sun,’ the second is ‘moon.’ Sources of the world’s light. Following?”

“Yes.” YES.

“Put it all together without looking at it as a story, without being artful about it, and you get gibberish - self knowledge other bright. It sounds wonderfully unbright, it’s a crime, really, to read it this way. But if you read it more delightfully, with more spirit and more willingness to have fun with it, you get something much more meaningful. Let’s look back at this character again,”

之

“This is a proverb that deals with the self as we’ve established, right? So now this character is no longer as literal as it is when you force it to stand by itself. It’s as abstract as the pictogram that forms it. This is no longer ‘other’ but an extension of the self. You are looking at yourself as you would look upon others. You are examining yourself objectively, this is what this means now.”

Her fingers drags back down to 明.

“And this is not literal in this context either. Now we source the context that we are speaking of something to do with knowledge. Now it means bright as in, wise; intuitive; comprehending; understanding.”

自 知 之 明

“‘Know oneself’, this phrase says, in a nutshell. Wisdom comes from being able to look at yourself objectively; judge yourself accurately; these are just a few ways, out of many permutations of the common tongue, we could understand the phrase, right?”

"A calculation that has many answers, variable by..." she watches Avenai pause, lips pursing, "...context. It seems... an artistic method of communication, rather than concrete." Another gap of her words, and then a raise of her mismatched eyes above. "It suits."

SUITS repeats after the engineer; agreement, simple as that. MANAGEABLE CONFUSION, he’ll figure it out as they go, simply. That comparison of ‘muscle memory’, training, given to him earlier is still prominent in his approach to many new bewildering concepts introduced.

Then she watches him concentrate, thoughtful and deliberate as always, then demonstrate his feelings about the lesson entirely. Something not missed by the other, who follows up right on his heels, committing that signing to her mind in snapping gesture.

This.

ENJOY TeEnAjCoHyteach.

Them.

Her smile is more closed than Avenai’s, but no less in its magnitude. It is only more wryly applied, more observational than simply pleasant. This view of their quirks tumbling together, this exchange of their feelings. She feels more good, more calm— calm as in, comfortable— than she has before. And she’s felt this way since they’ve started this vacation of their’s, since they have shared this much time with one another.

Us.

“Now, here’s how you actually say...”

@stormandozone @trained-trainwreck

[iffeelscouldkill]

say what we wanna do, make it all come true (chapter 2)

A/N: In my original notes for this fic I had written that Chapter 3 might be rolled into Chapter 2 depending on length because I thought that Chapter 2 was going to be super short. *laughs wildly in 7.1k-long chapter* But this is my favourite chapter of the fic, so it's nice that we get to spend extra time with it!

No particular content warnings for this; everything’s pretty chill. Enjoy! <3

Link to Chapter One | Read on AO3

“That, dear listeners, was ‘Landers Never Stand Down’, the hit single – or should that be anthem? – by beloved indie band Rumor, from their debut album, ‘Ghost Squid’. If you’re just joining us, I’m Piper Tanaka, and this is Radio Indie, Folk and Techno. With us in the studio are Rumor frontwoman Sana Tripathi-”

“Hello again.”

“-and bassist Arkady Patel. We’ve just been hearing the stunning true story of how the band added a new member to its line-up, drummer Violet Liu, after she was discovered trying to obtain confidential files in order to blow the whistle on her employer, the notorious IGR Corp, and its development of an unethical surveillance device.”

“Isn’t that, really, the only logical way to join a band?” Kestrel quipped.

“It sure worked out well for the Rumor crew!” said Piper. “On a more musical note, though – and yes, that pun was intended – that was a great track we just heard. I’m curious about the name you picked for your debut album; is there a story there?”

Sana glanced at Arkady, amused. “Call it an in joke,” she said. “We were originally going to go with ‘In the Deep’, since there’s kind of a loose space theme to the first album, and then… after rehearsal one day, we were just riffing on what kind of creatures might live out in the depths of outer space-” They had also been pretty drunk at the time, but she didn’t need to mention that live on air. “-and Arkady suggested that maybe there’d be giant squid, like in the depths of the ocean.”

“Space squid!” Piper enthused. “Now there’s a concept I can get behind.”

“Right, but Violet, who is our resident science expert – she has a Masters in Molecular Biology–”

“Fancy. Love a woman of science.”

“-pointed out that a squid could never propel itself in a vacuum. Unless it was, you know, a ghost squid.”

“How much had you guys been drinking?” Kestrel asked shrewdly. Arkady coughed.

“It was a dumb joke, but we thought it would make a pretty unique name for a first album,” she finished.

“You were right there!” said Piper brightly. “Then, of course, there’s your upcoming second album, which we’ve heard will be titled ‘More Than a Rumor’.”

“That’s right,” Sana confirmed. “We’ve been working on some really cool material for this one, and we’re excited to bring it to you all.”

“We’ve been hearing some interesting talk about what exactly that material might be,” said Piper. “The discussion boards online are buzzing about one track, ‘The Saga of the House of Zravshen’, which is said to be a thirteen-minute-long “epic space opera ballad” written by Brian Jeeter.”

Arkady made a derisive noise. “It’ll be a thirteen-minute-long something, all right.”

“Arkady, maybe you could tell us about ‘Nanoswarm’,” said Kestrel slyly. “I’ve heard that you and Violet Liu collaborated closely on that track.”

“I – we didn’t – what I mean is, uh, it really wasn’t a formal – collaboration–”

Arkady’s transformation from self-assured to completely flustered was delightful to behold, even though Sana felt like she should maybe step in and save her best friend from herself.

“It was more of a, uh, sort of a side project – we just worked on it and it sounded pretty cool, so it, uh – went onto the album.”

“What I think is really great about ‘More Than a Rumor’,” Sana intervened smoothly, and Arkady let out a breath, sitting back in her chair, “is that there are various tracks where different band members get a chance to shine. Building on ‘Ghost Squid’, which was the introduction to the band as a whole, we really delve into different members’ specialisms in our second album, which has made the material really varied as a result. But at the same time, we’ve worked hard to give it a cohesive flow…”

---

Not everything about adding a new member to the band had been as seamless as that first set. They’d improvised together well over the course of a performance, sure, but there was a different quality to rehearsals now that there were five of them instead of four; they were still figuring out how to navigate each other, adapting routines and in-jokes to accommodate a new person.

A lot of their original material sounded different now with the addition of a keytar and a new drummer; Liu was more technically capable than Jeeter had been, and she also wasn’t content with just falling into a role that had been laid down for her. She had ideas, things she wanted to change, and they weren’t bad ideas, but they still bugged Arkady anyway. She was just attached to a lot of their old songs, that was all.

And okay, maybe she’d pushed back on a few suggestions during rehearsals in a way that had Sana raising an amused eyebrow at her and Krejjh pretending to duck and cover. To her credit, Liu didn’t just roll over and give up on her ideas at the first sign of resistance, sticking to her guns in a way that Arkady respected even if it was also annoying. Things never deteriorated too far, mainly because Sana was quick to play peacemaker, but there always seemed to be some kind of friction between the two of them. It was like an itch under Arkady’s skin whenever she was around Liu, quick to flare up.

Then there was the time that Liu had made an offhanded comment that, “Everyone here went to an underground concert or two in college, right?” in the context of discussing the kinds of set-ups that they’d performed with in the past. Arkady had said nothing, but could feel her teeth grinding as she played an overly loud riff on her bass. It was an innocuous enough comment on its own, but the easy presumptions behind it – the idea that everyone had had access to the same educational opportunities that Liu had had – were what pissed Arkady off.

But contradicting her would have meant talking about something that was personal to Arkady, something that cut way too close to the bone, and she didn’t want to do that. Liu hadn’t earned that from her. Instead, Jeeter made a joke about having been way too immersed in books to find time for concerts, and Sana tactfully steered the conversation out of dangerous waters.

After the rehearsal, she’d pulled Arkady aside. “If you want me to talk to her about—”

Arkady shook her head. “It’s not a big deal. Really,” she added at Sana’s unconvinced look. “It was a stupid assumption, but I can let it go. I’d rather just… let it go.”

They were in a band together, but that didn’t mean they had to be best friends. Arkady could maintain a civil working relationship. It didn’t matter what she’d… thought when she first met Liu, or what Liu might have been about to say to her in the bar. All of that was in the past, so there was no point dwelling on it. All Arkady needed to do was work with Liu within the context of the band; she could do that.

Until one afternoon when Arkady arrived early for rehearsal without really meaning to, and found that the only other person in the warehouse was Liu, who was setting up her drumkit. Before Arkady could turn around and pretend she’d never been there, Liu looked up and spotted her.

“Oh… hey. I was just planning to run through a few drum lines before the rehearsal… try some stuff out,” she said.

“Right,” Arkady said, casting about for an excuse that would get her out of the warehouse until the others arrived. “Uh, I’m gonna go get some coffee from the-”

“Arkady, listen, can we, uh… Can we clear the air between us?” Liu asked, the last few words coming out all in a rush.

Arkady froze. “Clear… what air?” she asked, hoping to god that Liu would say something innocuous about why she thought the drum line on Fear for the Storm needed work.

No such luck. “Look, I get that you’re not… thrilled with having me in the band,” Liu said, quietly, though her voice still carried in the echoey space. “I’ve been in a lot of workplace environments where I’m not welcome, so I… know how to spot the signs. And maybe I’m being hypersensitive, or looking for things to worry about, but something still feels off between us, so whatever it is, can we just talk about it and deal with it? Please?”

Arkady’s chest clenched at Liu’s mention of not being welcome in ‘workplace environments’. Damn it, she didn’t want to make Liu feel the same way she’d felt in whatever white dudebro-filled tech companies she’d worked for. But she also didn’t want to go into the reasons why she wasn’t always a ray of sunshine when they interacted. There was no way that that conversation was going to make anything better.

“I don’t have a problem with you being in the band. Really,” she said instead. “If it comes off that way, it’s just because… Sana and I worked on a lot of those early songs together, and I’m… attached to how they sound. That’s all.”

“So… this is really just a musical disagreement?” said Liu, sounding unconvinced. “Because it feels like there’s… something else. I know you’re not the biggest fan of my former employer – and I mean, me neither – but I figure if it bothered you that much, you wouldn’t have come to help me when Seiders was threatening me-”

“I wasn’t going to just let you die,” Arkady said, nettled. “And no, I’m not in the habit of judging people for where they work. I’ve worked my fair share of jobs for shitty employers just to get by.” She shrugged. Then, almost without meaning to, she added, “Of course, I didn’t have the choice that you probably had…”

Liu frowned, but more like she was confused than like she was annoyed by Arkady’s comment. “What do you mean?”

Arkady sighed. “Not everyone went to college, Liu,” she said. “I’m a high school dropout. So no, I didn’t go to any underground concerts. Or any kind of gigs in college.”

Liu’s eyes widened as her comment from earlier came back to her. “Oh my god,” she groaned, putting her hand to her head. “I am so sorry, Arkady – I should know better than to make assumptions like that. I was just – I’d been talking to Brian about his studies and how he met Krejjh doing fieldwork, and I guess I assumed you guys had all met in college-”

Arkady barked out a laugh, too startled to even really be annoyed. “What, you thought that I could’ve been studying alongside Jeeter? You know he went to Brightwell, right? That elite college that’s supposed to be harder than Harvard to get into?”

Liu shrugged like the idea was actually plausible and not something that sounded like part of a bizarre alternate reality. “Yeah, I don’t see why not.” Then, quickly, as if she was afraid that this might have offended Arkady even more, she added, “But like I said – I really shouldn’t have assumed, and I’m sorry – I know better than that. I was only able to go to the college I did because I won a scholarship.”

Keen to move away from the topic of Arkady possibly having gone to Brightwell – because really, what – Arkady said, “You went to uh, that all-girls college, right? Harmony?” She vaguely remembered overhearing a conversation between Liu and Jeeter where Liu had talked about there being a Latin motto. “It sounded… interesting.”

Liu pulled a face. “Yeah, that’s one word for it.” She went on almost shyly, like she was confessing to a deeply-held secret, “I would have liked to study something more artistic – music, maybe – or at least do more extra-curriculars, but… I got that scholarship, and I was under a lot of pressure from my parents to do something ‘worthwhile’. Plus, I really wanted to show the kids who said I only got that scholarship because I was ‘a minority’.” There was an anger and a bitterness and a tiredness underlying those last two words that Arkady knew far too well.

“They what,” she spat out. God, was she glad she’d never been to college. Then again, she’d worked at places where she’d come up against the exact same attitude.

“Yeah,” Liu said wearily, fiddling with the drumsticks she was holding. “It wasn’t all bad, though. Being away at college was the first time I was really able to be myself – play the drums, be out. I got this haircut in my freshman year that was just – wild, it was awful.” She laughed, though Arkady barely heard her, her heartbeat suddenly pounding in her ears at the word ‘out’. God, Patel, get a grip. “My parents never liked the drums, they thought they were too – un-feminine,” she pulled a face again. “I play the flute, too, but I’m bad at it.”

“We should add that into the line-up,” said Arkady, to distract herself from thinking about Violet’s – Liu’s – flushed cheeks and her smile as she talked about her old haircut. “Sana can write a flute part.”

“Oh god, no,” Liu said, laughing again. “I don’t even have my flute any more, I sold it in grad school.”

“So… if you went to grad school… you can’t have hated it that much, right?” Arkady asked. “Uh – the biology, not the – flute playing.”

“Oh, no, I love biology,” Liu enthused. “It’s the study of living things – what’s not to love? Grad school itself, though, was…” She pulled a face. “I came close to quitting, a few times.”

“What happened?” Arkady asked. They were pretty far off their original subject by now, and Arkady was willing to admit to herself (and only herself) that maybe she was enjoying the conversation. It was all in the name of building better inter-band relationships, of course. Sana would be thrilled that they were bonding like this.

Liu sighed. “Let’s just say there were a few people on my course who were determined to let me know I didn’t belong. We had a lab work module where we were supposed to carry out an experiment as a group, and… I got put in charge of our group of six. My teammates would do things like pretend not to understand my instructions, or move things I needed to shelves I couldn’t reach… make comments they knew I could overhear… Growing up with an anxiety disorder, everyone’s always telling you not to worry – you learn to doubt your own thoughts. And my advisor just dismissed my concerns as ‘over-sensitivity’, so…” Arkady’s eyes narrowed further with every word that Liu spoke. “It was too late for me to transfer to another module. In the end I wound up carrying the whole project basically by myself.”

Liu gave Arkady a weak smile. “So, y’know, you didn’t miss out on much. I interned for a pharmaceutical company for a couple of years after college, did some work as a research assistant. When I got the job offer from IGR Corp, I felt like I’d finally made it – and look how that turned out.”

“Hey, it’s not your fault that IGR Corp turned out to be a special brand of greedy, soul-sucking and unethical,” said Arkady bluntly – even though she’d previously thought that maybe Liu could have had less awful taste in employers. “That’s on them. Look… I know a thing or two about soul-sucking workplaces myself.”

Arkady hadn’t intended this to turn into Personal Story Hour, but at the same time she felt like she should at least offer something after Liu had opened up about her time in college. She hadn’t needed to justify herself; she could just have apologised and left it at that. Instead, she’d shared something that Arkady suspected she didn’t talk about to a lot of people.

“The last job I worked before Sana and I started Rumor was for Telemachus Enterprises,” Arkady said, and Liu’s eyes widened in recognition.

“The global consulting firm? That’s very… well…”

“Capitalist? Soullessly corporate?” Arkady finished for her.

“I was going to say stable,” Liu said diplomatically.

“Sure, as long as you also like ladder-climbing, backstabbing and toxic work environments,” said Arkady. “I was an assistant, doing all the crap work like photocopying, fetching coffee, making calls, scheduling appointments and dealing with angry clients. It was the kind of job you get to get a ‘foothold’ in the world of business, and all of the other assistants were recent college grads who were way younger than me. I hated it.”

Liu nodded, listening intently, not offering any kind of commentary or judgement.

“Playing the bass was kind of the only thing that kept me sane, so… I used to go down to these shitty clubs at night and play, sometimes straight from work because the overtime was ridiculous. I’d join up with a couple of other musicians and do jam sessions, or sometimes play solo stuff. I’d sing, sometimes, too,” she added, a little self-consciously, even though she sang backing vocals on most of Rumor’s songs, and everyone in the band had heard her sing.

“I moved around a lot, never performed at the same place two nights in a row, so that no-one got to know me too well. I used to use different stage names – my favourite was Duchess Calpurnia Higginsworth-Cobb.”

Liu burst out laughing. “You didn’t really tell people that was your name?”

“Drunk people will believe anything,” Arkady told her. “I’m still known as ‘Duchess’ in a few places. It was a precaution, in case anything got back to my work, but in the end… the person who recognised me was someone I hadn’t seen in over a decade. Sana.”

Liu’s eyes widened. “You guys go back that far?”

“Kind of,” Arkady said. “It’s a long story–” delving into the tale of The Landing and her and Sana’s shared history definitely felt like it would be going a step too far – “but uh, I used to do work at a tattoo parlour that Sana came to a few times. I didn’t think she’d really noticed me at the time, but she remembered me well enough that when I played at a club near her workplace, she recognised me. She managed to catch a few more of my performances, figure out where I’d be, and one night she showed up with her guitar, and… we played together.”

Arkady smiled a little, remembering that night, the spark she’d felt as soon as they started to play. The drummer had been awful, some white asshole named Ricky who thought he was God’s gift to music – and wasn’t – but they’d sounded like magic anyway.

“Somehow she managed to figure out where I worked, showed up one day, invited me to get lunch, and after she found out how much I hated it there, she told me I should quit so that we could start a band,” Arkady said.

“And you did?” Liu asked, sounding half impressed, half scandalised.

“I really hated that job,” Arkady said. “Besides, the Capt- Sana can be really persuasive. We joke about her motivational speeches, but she’s…” Arkady hated to admit this, because it sounded so goddamn cheesy, but there wasn’t another word to describe it. “…inspirational.”

Liu smiled. “Yeah, I can tell. She seems like that kind of person.”

“We wrote a lot of our early songs together during that time,” Arkady said. “‘Landers Never Stand Down’, ‘Fear for the Storm’… they kind of – ugh, this is going to sound so corny, but they were about our hope for something better. So… that’s why I’m weird about changing them.”

Liu’s expression softened. “I completely get it. Look, I know that all of this has been pretty sudden – me joining the band, us trying to put together an album – and I’d understand if you wanted me to… back off a little. I was throwing out ideas for things that I thought would sound good with our new line-up, but I should have appreciated that these aren’t just songs to you and Sana.”

“No, it’s – you’re – okay,” Arkady said awkwardly. “You’re fine. They’re… they’re uh, really…” God, Arkady, just spit it out. People pay each other compliments all the time – it doesn’t have to mean anything. (Even if you might want it to mean something). “They’re really good. Ideas, I mean. And the others seem to like them! So… don’t stop on my account.”

Arkady’s urge to just leave the building after finally stumbling through that awkward admission was pretty strong, but she managed to resist. Which turned out to be worth it to see the small, pleased smile unfolding on Liu’s face. It was a different kind of smile to the one that she wore when the Captain paid her a compliment, though Arkady couldn’t have said exactly how. It just felt… personal to her.

“Well, in that case,” said Liu. “I had this idea I really wanted to try out on ‘Landers’, and… I’d love to get your thoughts? On how it sounds?”

Which was how, when Sana showed up for the start of the rehearsal fifteen minutes later, Arkady and Violet came to be mid-debate about the merits of speeding up the tempo of the drum line in the first half of the second verse, Arkady singing Sana’s part of the vocals to illustrate her point.

“Am I late?” Sana joked, throwing Arkady an amused glance. “Sorry, I didn’t realise practice was starting early.”

“The cool kids show up to practice a half hour early to go over new drum lines,” Arkady deadpanned, and Liu laughed. Sana smiled as she brought out her guitar.

“What you were playing just then sounded really good – can you go over it again?”

The conversation with Liu didn’t magically fix everything between them, but the tension eased up significantly after that, and it became easier for Arkady and Liu to come to a compromise whenever they disagreed. The album started to come together much more quickly, and when Red Gregor stopped by (which he did a lot more than he strictly needed to as the head of their record label, and Arkady suspected he was mostly there to see Sana), he was full of praise for the new arrangements.

It also somehow became a habit for Arkady to start showing up early to rehearsal. She told herself it was because the line in the coffee shop was easier to deal with at that time, and it was true that at some point she’d bought enough coffee for both her and Violet to have Violet’s regular order memorised; but it also had something to do with the fact that more often than not, Violet would arrive while she was setting up, or vice versa, and they’d run through the parts that had been bugging them, each lending the other an honest and unjudgemental ear. Sometimes they’d play around with something new, or improvise, trying on new techniques and styles for size.

Arkady honestly hadn’t had this much fun experimenting with music since those first early, heady days with Sana, when they started to lay down exactly what kind of performers they wanted to be. It was different with Violet – they had a different relationship, a different vibe – but there was still something about their sessions that felt similar, like they were breaking new ground.

One day, Arkady had been messing around with a bass line that she couldn’t get out of her head – she’d been thinking of adding it to ‘The Carmen Gambit’, one of the band’s originals that Jeeter had helped write, but it didn’t really fit. She liked how it sounded on its own, though. Liu had been listening, head tilted to one side, which Arkady didn’t really think anything of until quietly, underneath the bass line, Violet started to add a drum part.

Arkady was startled, mostly by how well the two fit together; after a slight fumble, she carried on playing, improvising and adding a couple of variations to the bass line when she ran out of material. Liu smoothly changed up the rhythm of the drum line to match just a second later, and Arkady realised that they had something that almost sounded like… a real piece of music. Something organic, something that flowed and moved and changed with-

Crap. Arkady came to a stop at the end of a section as she realised she didn’t have any idea what to play next. “Uh…” She threw an apologetic glance in Violet’s direction. “I haven’t really figured out what comes after that.”

Violet nodded, not seeming put out by this. “What about…” She hummed the end section of the melody that Arkady had been playing, and then another phrase that almost mirrored it. “Actually, that part could come before the-”

“Right, right-” Arkady understood Violet’s meaning, and quickly picked up the tune on her bass.

The song (well, technically it was an instrumental) they were writing didn’t have a name for the first few days. Arkady and Violet would pick up where they left off each time they came to rehearsal, and would throw around ideas for additions and changes, discussing the overall sound and vibe, but it didn’t feel like there was a need to put a name to it.

Then in the middle of one of these discussions, Violet started scribbling something in a notebook, and Arkady realised she was writing down their song. She peered curiously at the letters and notes, and Violet grimaced self-consciously.

“I’m not sure if I’ve got all of the bass chords right,” she admitted, tilting the notebook so Arkady could see it better. “Feel free to correct any bits that are wrong, I was mostly trying to get the drum part down for my own benefit. My memory’s not as good as yours is.”

Arkady hesitated. She was tempted to lie and say the notation was fine; Violet would accept it, and it probably wouldn’t come up again. There was a time when she would have done it without a second’s thought. But Violet already knew that Arkady had dropped out of high school; knew bits and pieces of her background, if not the whole story; and Arkady had to admit that she’d been enjoying being herself more around Violet. She didn’t want to backtrack on that.

“I never really learned to read sheet music,” she admitted. “I can recognise a few chords, but… I mostly learned how to play from YouTube videos, so it always seemed easier to just watch someone else play the chords, and learn which ones went with which songs, and… for performances I always had to memorise stuff anyway, so, um.” Arkady was rambling, and Violet was staring at her, which was possibly not good. “There didn’t seem much point in having it written down.”

“So… you never had a bass teacher?” Violet said slowly. “All of your playing, your singing – it’s all self-taught?”

“Uh,” Arkady cringed. “Yes?”

“Wow,” Violet said, and Arkady suddenly realised that she was dumbfounded because she was impressed, not because she’d just realised she was playing with an amateur. “That’s… really impressive.”

Arkady fidgeted, uncomfortable with the pure admiration in Violet’s gaze. “It’s not really – I mean sure, I put in a lot of hours, but so does every musician,” she hedged. “It wasn’t anything special, I just – couldn’t afford to pay for classes.”

She braced herself for an awkward silence to follow, but instead Violet nodded. “No, you’re right, everyone has to put in the work if they want to improve,” she agreed. “But I imagine that it would be harder to motivate yourself when it’s just you and the instrument.”

Arkady shrugged her shoulder slightly. “It wasn’t so bad. It helped that I enjoyed it, I guess.” After the disaster that was her high school education, it had been a relief to find something she’d felt like she was good at – and wasn’t being assessed on.

Violet smiled, and mercifully changed the topic by looking down at the notation she’d scribbled and saying lightly, “Well, now that it’s been written down, it feels like we should give it a name.”

Arkady thought about it. “Anything that’s shorter than whatever the hell it is Jeeter and Krejjh are working on,” she said, because Jeeter had been waxing lyrical about the ‘epic space opera ballad’ that he’d been composing with his fiancé. Apparently it was about a race of fictional aliens, and some of the lyrics were in a made-up alien language that Jeeter had invented. Arkady had no idea why Jeeter had such a dedicated following among their fans for the weird shit that he came up with, but there you were.

Violet grinned, tapping her pen against the space above the lines and notations. “So, one word, then. It’s got a pretty futuristic sound… What about ‘Cyberpunk’?”

Arkady couldn’t help grimacing a little bit. “Yeah, too clichéd,” Violet agreed. “Maybe something themed around space… ‘Supernova’?”

They tossed around a few other ideas, but none of them quite seemed to fit the mood of the song. Violet frowned down at the music she’d written, and Arkady was about to suggest they come back to it later when she said, “This might sound like a weird association for a piece of music, but I was reading a paper the other day on nanotechnology, you know, technology used at the atomic and molecular level?”

“Sounds kind of dry for bedtime reading, but I’m with you,” Arkady said.

Violet laughed, blushing a little. “Yeah, a friend from my Masters sent it to me; I still like to keep up with new developments in the field, and there are fascinating implications for biology. But I’m thinking, what if none of the space names fit because they’re too big, too grand? What if instead we went really small, like… ‘Nanobot’?”

“Nanobot…” Arkady turned the name over in her mind, thinking about the quick, intricate rhythms of the song they were creating together. It was a surprisingly good fit, but something about it felt off. Something about the ‘bot’ part was too… lonely. “What about ‘Nanoswarm’?”

Violet’s eyes widened slightly and a smile spread across her face. “Nanoswarm,” she said, and wrote the song title in blocky capitals above their music. “I like it.”

Both Red Gregor and Campbell came to rehearsal that night, which Arkady took as a sign that they were there to discuss something Important. Their album, ‘Ghost Squid’, was selling more copies than any of them had expected, and had actually got them some interview requests from indie music blogs and magazines. This seemed to be partly down to Red Gregor, who apparently had enough of a reputation as a business investor that his decision to start up a record label had attracted a lot of interest, and consequently a lot of interest in the first band he’d signed to it. But they’d also had some great reviews, including from Radio, Indie, Folk and Techno (also known as RIFT), the go-to station for all things indie music, who had covered it on their ‘Rave Review Hour’.

There’d also been a noticeably bigger audience at most of their gigs. They’d had a modest but dedicated following before Violet had joined the band, and were regulars at a couple of underground venues where they pulled decent crowds, plus one bar where Arkady had managed not to piss off the owner (the other four were… long stories); a bunch of people also streamed their music from various parts of the world. But since Ghost Squid came out, they’d started playing at (and filling) much bigger venues across a much wider area. It was fun, but also a little surreal.

“What’s the good word, Campbell?” Krejjh asked, leaning on their keyboard. “Are you here to tell us how much the people love us?”

Campbell’s lips twitched in amusement. “They love you a whole lot,” he said. “More every day.”

Krejjh fist-pumped, and Arkady asked, “So, what are you guys here for? Is this about ‘Ghost Squid 2: Electric Boogaloo’?”

They’d had a discussion with Red Gregor about beginning work on a second album; this one would take longer, since they’d had plenty of existing songs to draw on for ‘Ghost Squid’, and hadn’t needed to put together any new material. But, as Gregor had pointed out, it was better to start thinking about that sooner rather than later, and they’d been working on a few new songs anyway. So far, the second album was still nameless, but they’d taken to calling it by a range of joke nicknames.

Red Gregor grinned. “Sort of, in the sense that it’ll be good promo,” he said. Spreading his hands out to either side like a showman introducing his next act, he said grandly, “I’ve landed you a gig at the CUI Stadium.”

Jeeter’s mouth dropped open, Krejjh flailed and exclaimed, “Holy moley!”, and Violet repeated, “Stadium?!” in an almost horrified tone. Even Sana seemed surprised by the news.

“You actually got it?” she asked Red Gregor, who nodded.

Arkady’s eyes narrowed. “Okay, what’s the catch?” she asked. “They don’t let just anyone play the CUI Stadium.”

“No catch,” Campbell promised them. “Red has some contacts who tipped him off that the CUI is looking for some new, lesser-known talent to put on its billing. Once upon a time, the CUI had a reputation for scouting the best undiscovered bands and giving them a bigger stage – literally – and they feel they’ve been losing their touch.”

Put like that, it did make a kind of sense. “Cool, so who are we supporting?” Jeeter asked. “Oooh, maybe it’s Hremreh.”

Hremreh was a weird electronic band that Jeeter and Krejjh were completely obsessed with. Arkady rolled her eyes. “I hope the CUI has more taste than that.”

“Excuse you, Hremreh is an underrated gem of a band,” Krejjh retorted.

“The Destroyer?” Violet suggested jokingly. “They’re local.”

Arkady knew from having spent time with Violet that The Destroyer was one of her favourite bands from college, whose gigs she’d religiously attended during her freshman year. Everyone else looked interested but bemused, and Violet hurriedly added, “Uh, that was a bit of a niche joke. I used to go to their gigs a lot in college.”

“All great guesses,” Red Gregor said, “but you’re all missing one important piece of information. You’ll be the headline act.”

“What?” said Arkady.

“Heck yeah!” Krejjh exclaimed, and high-fived Jeeter.

“So, someone will be supporting us?” Violet said a little faintly.

“Red, exactly how many strings did you pull?” Sana asked, sounding halfway between amused and disapproving. Red Gregor held up his hands.

“I just talked to my contacts, I promise,” he said. “It gave me a chance to put your name forward, but that was all I needed to do. You guys have a great sound; they’re excited to have you on.”

Everything dissolved into a flurry of noise and celebration. Jeeter played a celebratory tune on his keytar that Arkady was fairly sure was from some video game, Krejjh whooped and slid their hands up the keys of their keyboard, and Campbell picked up Sana and spun her around, both of them and Red Gregor laughing. Violet caught Arkady’s eye, grinned, and did a little roll on one of her cymbals. Arkady huffed and rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t fight the smile that was trying to emerge.

“So, when is the gig?” Sana asked, flushed and catching her breath, after Campbell had put her down.

“A month from today,” Red told them. Sana straightened up.

“Wow, okay, we need to get rehearsing! Everyone—”

They quickly got into position, picking up instruments and drumsticks and plugging in amplifiers. Sana beamed around at the assembled band members.

“I just want to say how proud I am of all of you for what we’ve accomplished so far, and everything that lies ahead of us. I-”

“Not to head you off at the pass,” Arkady interrupted, sensing a long Sana Monologue was coming, “but didn’t you say we needed to get rehearsing? Maybe save the speech for after?”

Most people would have taken offence at being interrupted, but Sana, being Sana, smiled at Arkady. “Thank you for the reminder, Arkady. I am proud of you all, but I’ll tell you exactly how proud once we’re done.”

Rehearsal went well, everyone energetic and buoyed up from the good news. As they were packing down afterwards, under the noise of Sana, Krejjh, Jeeter, Campbell and Gregor eagerly discussing where they could go out for drinks to celebrate, Violet said to Arkady,

“I forgot to tell you earlier, but I heard back from the journalist. Emily Craddock.”

Arkady fumbled the wire that she was looping around itself. “Yeah? What did she say?”

“She said that she thinks we have enough for a story. Even with the missing data,” Violet said.

She looked happy, but something in Arkady’s chest still clenched. It had been nearly four weeks since the fateful gig at IGR Corp, and so far, everything had been quiet. The band had been on high alert at all of their performances at first, not spending any more time than was necessary setting up or lingering on the stage, but there’d been no attempts at sabotage, no suspicious ‘fans’ trying to approach them after a set. (There had been a few real fans whom Arkady had cross-examined a bit too aggressively when they tried to get close to the band, but people seemed to actually find it funny and no-one got offended).

They figured that IGR Corp must not know about the files that Violet had managed to copy across; Seiders had been unconscious, after all, and it was possible that they hadn’t realised that Violet had made off with anything, or had downplayed the severity of the incident to the higher-ups. Arkady had, in spite of her misgivings, broken the encryption on the files for Violet, but she’d been secretly hoping that the data wouldn’t turn out to be useful, or that there wouldn’t be enough of it to do anything with.

She’d hoped that even after Violet told her that she’d found a tech journalist who was interested in taking a look at the files and potentially investigate the story. Of course Arkady was a fan of doing whatever they could to stick it to the corporates; she just wished there was a way to do it that wouldn’t involve Violet painting a huge target on her back.

“That’s… good,” Arkady managed, and even she could hear how unconvincing it sounded. Violet looked at her questioningly. “It’s just…” She tried to find a way to word things that wasn’t, ‘I’m afraid that you won’t be safe’. “Once the information is out there, IGR Corp is going to know who leaked it. What happens if they come after you?”

“By that point, they should have bigger things to worry about, if the evidence that Emily Craddock has found is as damning as she says it is,” Violet pointed out. “She’s been looking into that engineer that Seiders mentioned, Alvy Connors. It’s not really clear whether something… happened to him, or whether he just made a run for it, but he definitely disappeared. And it wasn’t that long after he started work on Project ADVANCE.”

As they talked, the other band members had been clearing equipment away and loading it into the van, until Violet and Arkady were the only ones left in the warehouse.

“I know there’s risk involved,” Violet said. “But I can’t just forget everything I’ve learned. And this is bigger than me – I have to do it for Alvy, too, and his family and friends, and everyone else who could be affected by Project ADVANCE. What IGR Corp is doing-”

“I know, I know,” Arkady said. “Don’t get me wrong, I think they deserve to have the cover blown right off their shitty, awful surveillance plan.”

“I’m going to talk to the Captain before I do anything,” Violet assured her. “I know this could affect the band, too. I just wanted to tell you first.”

Why? Arkady wanted to ask, but that would have taken the conversation down a road that Arkady was not prepared to go down. Either Violet would say something like, ‘Because we’re friends’, or ‘Because you’re my bandmate’, and Arkady would feel like a moron for having hoped for anything different. Or she wouldn’t, and that would be worse, because Arkady had no idea how to respond to Violet saying… Well, it didn’t matter, because it would never happen, anyway.

“Sana will tell you to go for it,” she said. “If it’s what you think is right, she’ll be behind you all the way.”

“And… you?” Violet asked quietly.

“I…”

Why was it so hard for Arkady to just say that she approved? Violet was a grown woman who could make her own decisions; she didn’t need Arkady second-guessing her. Violet didn’t even need Arkady to agree with what she was doing – she could just go and do it anyway. But the fact that she’d asked Arkady meant that she cared what Arkady thought… and that made Arkady want to be honest with her.

And honesty was terrifying.

The moment stretched out; Arkady composed and drafted half a dozen different versions of what she wanted to say in her head. ‘I just need you to be careful’ – ugh, that sounded like something Sana would say. Also, of course Violet was going to be careful; that didn’t mean there was no risk involved. ‘I trust you to make the right choice’ – vague, and it also made Arkady feel weird. ‘If they hurt you, they’ll wish they’d never been born’ – alarming, and probably too honest.

Arkady took a breath in, gathering her nerve – and then both of them jumped as the van horn beeped loudly from outside.

“Paging bandmates Liu and Patel!” Krejjh shouted. “Bandmates Liu and Patel to the Rumormobile, please!”

Violet laughed a little, as Arkady huffed, inwardly cursing her own goddamn indecision. She’d spent so long trying to figure out what to say that she’d lost the chance to say anything.

“I guess we shouldn’t keep them waiting,” Violet said, slanting a small smile in Arkady’s direction.

“I trust you,” Arkady found herself saying, almost without meaning to. Violet looked puzzled, and Arkady scrambled to clarify. “Uh, that is – if you think this is the right thing to do. Then, you should… do it. Just…”

She still couldn’t say it, but Violet’s smile widened, her eyes softening like she knew what Arkady was trying (and failing) to tell her. “I’ll be careful,” she promised.

[hopeymchope]

The First Talk - Naegiri One-Shot - Danganronpa Fanfic

“Nice night, huh?"

Kyoko Kirigiri looked up from the book she was reading to see one Makoto Naegi standing about four meters away from the stone bench where she was sitting. He had positioned himself beneath a light along the walking path so that she could clearly see him.

Kyoko was seated beneath one of other the lights along the path herself, right near the edge of Hope's Peak's central plaza. She looked around, both to try and spot any other people nearby and to quickly gauge the atmosphere of the evening. "It's pleasant enough," she acknowledged. She then lifted her left arm to check her watch. "12 minutes until midnight. You're going to miss curfew if you don't head for the dorms soon," she noted.

He slowly started walking towards her as he countered, "Won't you?"

She shook her head briefly. "The back entrance to the women's dorms is four minutes from here if I cut straight through the grass," she explained quickly. "However, to reach the men's dorm on the other side, you'd have to walk around the perimeter of the women's, then cross over to their front entrance. Given the length of the building, that's at least another three minutes."

Makoto stopped walking one meter in front of her, standing with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. "Well, uh... wow," he said awkwardly. "I guess you're not going to be staying here much longer, huh?"

"No," Kyoko said as she turned her eyes back to her book.

Makoto frowned slightly at the way the young woman seemed to be... ignoring him? Attempting to ignore him? He wasn't the best at reading people, so Makoto wasn't certain that he was right on either count. "You can tell me if I'm bothering you," he told her in an attempt to get a bead on her feelings. "But I was just, y'know... hoping to talk to you?"

She looked back up from her book and examined his face curiously. "All right," she said, closing her book and setting it aside. "Can I ask why?"

The boy felt relief when she signaled she was open to the conversation, but the question threw him a bit. He glanced sideways and shrugged. "I've already talked to the rest of our classmates," he explained, feeling self-conscious. "I'm only... I'd like to get to know everyone I can in our class."

Kyoko raised one hand to her chin as if contemplating that idea while she looked him up and down. "Okay," she said softly. "Is that why you're out here at this hour?"

Makoto chuckled. "No, no," he said. "I was out for a walk. I wanted to enjoy the weather, see what the campus looks like at night... besides, I haven't slept much for the past few days." He grinned as he looked around the nearby buildings. "Being here... " he said in awe as he looked at the surrounding campus, "...it's just too exciting! We're at the launching point of our future — the dawn of the rest of our lives. And here we are, taking that ship out from the greatest port imaginable!"

The left corner of Kyoko's mouth curled up. "You're certainly... optimistic," she said with amusement creeping into her tone.

He smiled warmly at the remark. "I've been told that's my best trait," Makoto said. "So uh, you're the Ultimate Detective?"

"That is what this place calls me, at least," Kyoko said. "My name is Kyoko Kirigiri. And you're Makoto Naegi - this year's 'Ultimate Lucky Student.'"

Makoto covered his face with his hands in embarrassment. "Oh god, I forgot to introduce myself!" he sputtered, redness growing in his cheeks.

Kyoko was unable to hold back the smile that crept across her face. "It's okay," she assured him gently. "I've known you were part of this class since before I got here, after all."

He hung his head in shame, still quite embarrassed. "R-right," he said. "And they call my name when they're taking roll, I know. It's just... " He paused and raised his head to look at her again, biting his lip. "It's just polite," he finished.

She inspected his face carefully, pondering whether this boy was really as innocuous as he seemed. He locked eyes with her, then quickly looked away, blushing. That was cute, she thought spontaneously, and suddenly the context of looking at his face changed in an instant. She was admiring the boyish good looks inherent to his cheek contours, the shape of his nose and-

"I didn't see you in any of the identified student lists online," Makoto said as he turned back to face her and interrupted her thoughts. "But you're the headmaster's daughter, right?" he asked innocently.

Immediately, Kyoko's face went dark. Tightness filled her chest. "If you mean to imply that I'm only here because of him," she spat, "You can-"

"N-no!" Makoto said quickly, waving his hands in front of him. "I wasn't saying that," he insisted. He stepped closer, cutting the distance between them in half, then paused to swallow before continuing, "I was only saying that he must be really proud and happy to have you here."

Kyoko's eyebrows shot up as tightness in her chest deflated. "O-oh," she said calmly. "I... I wouldn't know."

Makoto's shoulders slumped. "I see." He dragged a foot along the ground slowly, drawing a pattern as he searched for his next words. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She pursed her lips as she frowned. "It's fine," she said. "He was at the entrance ceremony, at least."

He scratched his cheek uncertainly. "But you didn't talk?" he asked uncertainly.

"No," Kyoko responded curtly. She blew out a breath slowly, then looked up at his face — now merely half a meter from her. "Well, come on." She scooted over on the stone bench.

Even so, he didn't move. "'Come on' and what?" he inquired, clueless.

Can anyone sincerely be this oblivious? Kyoko thought. Her eyes drifted sideways as she explained. "Quit hovering and sit down. If we're going to talk, let's do so properly."

"Oh! Thanks!" he answered brightly. He took his hands from the pockets of his hoodie and spun around, plopping down on the bench next to her. "So what're you reading? Is it for school?"

"No, it's for personal enjoyment," Kyoko informed him. "The Finishing Stroke. It's an old novel that... well, it reminds me of simpler times."

"Oh I get it," Makoto answered. He sounded confident as he theorized, "You like to read about times gone by and think back on how people's lives used to be slower-paced and more relaxed, huh?"

Kyoko's forehead furrowed. "Uh, no," she said flatly.

Makoto blinked a couple of times while staring at her. "Then wha-"

"Ellery Queen stories are an old favorite of mine," she explained calmly. "I used to read these stories... " She paused and let out an exasperated sigh in an attempt to release her lingering tension. "Nevermind," she said at last.

Makoto smiled sympathetically at her. "They remind you of when you were younger," he observed gently. "So... you're reading this book because it reminds you of a time when your relationship with your dad wasn't so complicated."

Kyoko stared at the boy he'd begun speaking in tongues. "I... yes. That's it exactly," she said quietly. She returned his smile with a small one of her own, locking eyes with him. "Nicely deduced. Or was that due to your luck?"

He laughed a little and shrugged, "I dunno," he admitted. "My luck isn't really the kind of thing I can see in action, if you can understand that."

"Ah," she said back. "May I ask you another question?"

"Absolutely," he responded.

"Why am I the last person you talked to in our class?" she asked, still smiling.

"Oh - no reason," Makoto said, glancing down. "I just couldn't seem to corner you anywhere. You keep to yourself, and... well, you move pretty fast when classes end."

Kyoko closed her eyes and considered his answer. "I see," she said. "You're not wrong."

"So why is that?" Makoto said back. "You never linger after class, you haven't gone to the first couple of social events... are you avoiding everybody?"

The subtle smile on her face faded, and she opened her eyes. "Well," she started to tell him, "I have a... very particular reason for wanting to attend Hope's Peak that I'm focusing my energies on. It doesn't involve socializing."

"All right then," Makoto said, examining her face. Wow, she's... really pretty DON'T say that out loud. "But what if you're missing out on something that could really change your life here?" His speech escalated in speed and volume progressively as he went on: "This could be the place where you meet the best friends you'll ever know! Maybe the love of your life! Or a new detective partner? I mean, anything is possible!"

Kyoko's eyelids drooped and the corners of her mouth twinged upwards a bit. She replied, "How do you keep up this level of enthusiasm? Are you on drugs, or... "

"Nothing like that!" he insisted with a blush. "I'm just... a little more gung-ho than most people, heh." He looked down and to the side, smiling in spite of himself.

She raised her hand back to her chin, contemplating that. "Perhaps you're so excited about Hope's Peak because you never expected to be here," she suggested. "I took considerable effort to make my way here, and I always expected to succeed. You, on the other hand, neither tried to make your way here nor anticipated it. Is that right?"

"Of course it's right," he told her sheepishly. "I always looked up to Hope's Peak... obviously. Everybody does, right?"

Kyoko idly glanced towards the Reserve Course Building at the far end of the campus, then looked back at him. "I suppose there's truth to such a claim," she mused.

"But there's nothing special about me," Makoto said, bearing an expression that looked both grateful and guilty. "I just got here because of a random drawing."

"That second statement may be the truth," she told him. She squinted as she added, "However... I feel like there is something distinctive about y-"

"Oh crap!" Makoto yelled. He jumped to his feet. "I'm so sorry but I gotta go!" He eyes were bulging as he looked down at her and blurted, "The curfew!"

"Calm down," Kyoko ordered him. She smiled tightly once more. "I'll walk you back to your dorm."

"B-but," he stammered as he started to sweat, "You said that it'd take me seven minutes to-"

Kyoko stood up with her book under her right arm. She ran her left hand through her hair as she told him, "It'll be fine. I have multiple ways of getting in after the doors lock."

Makoto's jaw hung open for a second before he repeated, "'Ways of getting'... what? But isn't that against — I mean, you're a detective!"

"Private detective," she corrected him. "I'm not with the police or with Hope's Peak Security, for that matter."

Makoto took a deep breath and nodded. "Okay," he said finally. "You walk me back, and I'll walk you back."

Kyoko narrowed her eyes, but she was obviously amused. "That's not how this works," she said. "I don't need your help to get into my dorm."

"I'm just trying to be chivalrous," he offered, throwing up his hands. "Besides, I'm sure you can teach me your break-in trick."

"Oh," she said in realization. "Trying to make me reveal my secrets, are you?" she teased.

"Only if you're willing," he said with a grin.

"Not just yet," she told him as she started to move towards the women's dormitory.

He jogged a bit to make it alongside of her. "Well, then maybe you can tell me more about that thing you mentioned?" he suggested hopefully.

Kyoko raised an eyebrow at him. "Do you mean the thing I find dist-"

"Ellery Queen," Makoto explained with a guilty look. "I've... actually never heard of it."

Kyoko shocked herself by giggling just a tiny bit. "Sure," she promised.

[sedna-integration]

Thanks to a certain someone on discord indulging me with my dumb childhood stories and other inane bs I remembered something. But first some context:

From Aug of 05 to Dec of 06 I lived in Texas due to Hurricane Katrina. I swapped schools my first year there due to moving away from the relatives that hosted us. After I swapped schools I also ended up swapping classes when they finally checked my IEP over a month later because the way they handled “gifted” students was to have them all in one particular class and get pulled out for the “gifted” class 1 or 2 days a week for the entirety of the day(s). (I can’t remember if it was 1 or 2 days. I have gifted in quotes because the name of these programs have changed since and I am not sure what they are called now.) Anyway, the specific story I told them, albeit more detailed, is: There was this tall(er than me) meganekko busty blonde girl who always had on a somewhat loose grey pullover in my class. We went to different classrooms for each period and had preset seating in each one (it wasn’t alphabetical) but almost all of them we sat next to each-other. Our class had this mandated reading-class-thing where we’d go into the library for a class period, do some group reading+discussion, and then some of those online computer activities (you know the ones) or other reading-based work. Iirc it was because Blue Bonnet reading was/is a big thing there. I can’t recall how many times a week this was or if it was an every day thing either so sorry about that. At some point we had to partner up with someone for whatever the lesson plan was and this lasted for quite some time. I dunno why but she chose me by latching on to my left arm sorta like this but she held me way too close & my head was breast level LOL.

I was so confused at the time but I’m one of those emotionless looking dudes so I’d like to assume she couldn’t tell but she was pretty damn perceptive. I didn’t know what the hell she grabbed me for initially or why she was smashing the side of my head into her chest & her followup didn’t help at all. She’d taken my hand & swung our arms back and forth while skipping in this comical saturday-morning-cartoon way before pushing my arm away and pouting in an equally comical way so I gave up trying to figure out what her angle was. Ofc immediately after this the teacher comes over & brings us back to reality with the pair work. From that point onward we talked a whole lot more and I ended up looking forward to her shenanigans every week. Though I actively put some space between us at times (hopefully not enough to be noticeable) b/c people treated me poorly and I didn’t want her caught up in that. To elaborate on the why of that last bit and set up for what I remembered and why it matters I need to give a bit of a rundown on myself as well. I have almost always been alone socially and otherwise. I’m not close to my family in any regard. I’d consistently been picked on a lot & I’d always been relatively quiet even before I began to avoid speaking in general down the line. My scoring within the top 5% of my class (esp while being black), being an introvert in the early 2000, caring about art, the way I spoke/words I used, and not having interest in sports (again esp while black) led to people condemning me for 1 or more of those things so I started to keep my mouth closed about what little I was interested in as early as age 5. Unfortunately this also led to bullying as well due to people taking my silence & lack of contribution to discussion as me looking down on them. Part of it was that I also didn’t know a lot about sports (a very common topic) & oftentimes I wasn’t allowed to watch many of the shows my classmates did and thus had nothing to say or contribute. Being black meant either I couldn’t be intelligent or that if I was/spoke with anything beyond rudimentary vocabulary I was some kind of race traitor. I couldn’t offer to help anyone with work they were having trouble with w/o being accused of belittling them either.  Most people I came across had no clue what introversion was adults included. I only found out when I was 6 or so because I was forced to find a way to prove I wasn’t some “fucked up abnormality”. I was/am also very physically capable sports-wise and combat-wise despite my lack of interest in the former and my abhorring the latter. The former invited ire due to the whole “nerds aren’t supposed to be good at school and sports” thing. While the latter gave me a reprieve if I ever went there it only lasted until they realized if they pushed me only the “right amount” I’d never fight. The reason any of this matters is I am very careful about who I let get close to me physically & emotionally. I wanted to give credence as to why I am how I am as well as putting that on display. I really really REALLY dislike being touched by those I am not familiar with on a personal level. People I have been acquainted with for years still have to be careful about casually hugging me b/c I’ll reflexively respond with elbow jabs and the like.  Back then my intuition was already at the point it’d give me a relatively accurate read of who was and wasn’t “safe”. So despite all of that + my misgivings about people in general I was fine with everything she did. There were a couple instances where she hugged me from the front or behind like so and would just sit her head on mine and I didn’t do anything to stop her. I didn’t want to. 

She never forcefully invaded my personal space. Even though the first time was spontaneous it wasn’t forceful in execution. Easing her way into my personal space the way she did to do what she did is the reason I realized I am actually a physically affectionate person. I’d never been exposed to it within my family or among what few friends I had until that point aside from those shitty face value ones aunts and uncles would try that I’d avoid partaking in. This along with my isolation (intentional or otherwise) makes it something difficult for me to approach even now. Many of the minute details above were omitted w/ the discord friend due to my inability to recall them. That convo helped me remember all of the above and more. The girl’s name, how she treated me, how her treatment of me affected others, how important she was to me and why. Shelby was the first person at that school to treat me like another person rather than a tool or some kind of abnormality whom needed to be fixed. She was the first reason I began looking forward to going to a school I hated being at. She helped me understand myself a little better likely w/o ever intending to. Regardless of intent she facilitated a situation where I was seen by some as just another dude.

It’s crazy that I couldn’t recall so much w/o her name because I never forgot what she looked like despite that seeming like the easier thing to do. Until now whenever I sat down to try to remember her name I failed to yet here it just came out of the blue when I was done reminiscing. Her name popping into my mind with the familiar image of her beaming as she oft would followed by all these little details is too ethereal. Feels like I’ll forget again if I don’t record this somewhere. 

I’m elated and grateful both to that friend for humoring me and to Shelby for being the goofy jester she had been even before I came to realize it. There are too many small innocuous things that happened with/due to her back then I wish I’d never forgotten about. Maybe it’s my lack of connections to others at play but small things meant and still do mean so much more to me than any large/grand gestures do. It makes it all the more disconcerting that all this was neatly locked away somewhere when I can remember the day my sister was born better than my mom can. One thing that has me kinda fucked up is remembering being excited to go to the same middle school as her. I didn’t bother trying to get to know her better because the same day I had that thought I learned I’d be moving away. So much came back to me now I’m happy & frustrated. I never told her how grateful I was back then. I tried to on my last day there but I ended up almost crying every time so I gave up. I never hugged her back or told her I appreciated her either. From her perspective it may not even be that big a deal but it is to me. This is also the type of guy I am. The minute things that we often take for granted are the most important things to me so I want the people that stay with me to know that I appreciate those things. Even if those decisions you make and actions you take aren’t something you spend a lot of time or effort on the fact that they are made with consideration for me is very much appreciated and I want these people to know that. I wanted her to know that. It took me too long to be able to be able voice these things despite my blunt brazen approach to near everything. Now I have a poignant desire to tell her precisely how much I appreciated her. Knowing I likely will never get the opportunity is very frustrating. Yet I stupidly hope I will come across her again.  Maybe if I’m lucky I’ll see that smile again in person. Both images are I googled tall girl + word + anime and just so happend to get those two as the results that fit and both are from doujns so beware. 1. Tall+Short by Kitakawa Touta 2. Doki Doki Body Wall by Makinosaka Shinichi Edit: Cleaned this up a bit and added some detail. As an addendum: 1. This was 13y ago so I was 11 in the 5th grade. Idk why but she and 2 other girls in our grade were built like idealized 17 y/o’s which was actually part of why Shelby wore the pullover. 2. I’m not pining for her or anything. I couldn’t tell you if I was into her or if she was into me the way kids tend to be back then and really it doesn’t matter if it was or wasn’t the case.  3. For the above: I have only wanted to have a small number of close friends to spend my time with since early on in HS. Having my own family was something I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember but I don’t think it’s good for me specifically to explicitly pursue romance so I don’t and didn’t. I don’t want to go looking for love, platonic or otherwise, in all the wrong places. I’ve seen how that goes too many times lol.  A natural progression is more my speed anyway. 

[theconservativebrief]

Look at the above image. On the left, of course, is Supreme Court nominee Brett Kavanaugh, at the Senate Judiciary Committee for his confirmation hearings. Behind him is his former clerk, longtime Republican legal operative Zina Bash. But what is Bash doing with her hand? Is she resting it normally? Is she making an “okay” sign? Or could it be that she’s making a … WHITE POWER HAND SIGNAL?

This is 2018, and so naturally, some prominent #resistance Twitter personalities jumped on the latter allegation, seeing Bash’s hand movements as proof of Republican complicity with white supremacist movements:

Kavanaugh’s former law clerk Zina Bash is flashing a white power sign behind him during his Senate confirmation hearing. They literally want to bring white supremacy to the Supreme Court. What a national outrage and a disgrace to the rule of law. pic.twitter.com/uQGOpNa6xg

— Eugene Gu, MD (@eugenegu) September 4, 2018

Eugene Gu, a prominent anti-Trump doctor who recently made news when he was accused of sexual assault, racked up more than 13,000 retweets and 17,500 likes for his tweet accusing Bash.

Keith Rubin, an Army veteran whose Twitter bio states he “love[s] everything except racism,” got even more engagement on his version of the post:

In a since-deleted tweet, Amy Siskind, the prominent Twitter personality who writes a weekly list of #NotNormal things the Trump administration has done, stated that the hand signal should disqualify Kavanaugh from the Supreme Court.

Before we go any further: Bash was not making a “white power hand signal.” You can, if you want, trust the word of her husband, John Bash, who is currently US attorney for the Western District of Texas:

Zina is Mexican on her mother’s side and Jewish on her father’s side. She was born in Mexico. Her grandparents were Holocaust survivors. We of course have nothing to do with hate groups, which aim to terrorize and demean other people — never have and never would. 2/3

— US Attorney John Bash (@USAttyBash) September 4, 2018

But if his word isn’t enough, you can listen to real experts on white supremacist movements.

“No one should assume anything about the use of such a gesture unless there are other unmistakable white supremacist signifiers in that context as well,” Mark Pitcavage, an expert on right-wing extremism at the Anti-Defamation League, tweeted, adding:

Out of all the things you should be legitimately concerned about regarding the Senate confirmation hearings in Washington, DC, today for Judge Kavanaugh & SCOTUS, handshakes and handsigns ought not be among them.

Actual serious constitutional issues are at stake.

— Mark Pitcavage (@egavactip) September 4, 2018

Jared Holt, a research associate at the left-leaning watchdog group Right Wing Watch, agrees. “It could have just been her resting her hand in a way that looked like that,” he said. “I haven’t seen anything that would lead me to believe this was intentionally a troll.”

That’s the gist of it. But there’s a backstory to why the okay gesture is perceived as a hate sign, and the eagerness of some liberals to embrace fake news on the subject is itself revealing. We have, at this point, gotten plenty of signs through actual policy decisions, and concrete connections between Trump staffers and white nationalist activists, that the Trump White House is pursuing a racist agenda. So why do people still want a secret hand signal to prove that the Trump administration is sympathetic to white supremacist goals?

As the ADL’s Pitcavage explained last year, this whole story was fueled, like so much internet nonsense before it, with a 4chan trolling effort.

Back in February 2017, Pitcavage writes, a 4chan user proposed an effort called “Operation O-KKK” in which he and allies would, in the anonymous user’s words, “flood Twitter and other social media websites … claiming that the OK hand sign is a symbol of white supremacy.” Here’s the original 4chan post, as shared by KnowYourMeme:

KnowYourMeme

The choice of the okay symbol for the prank, as KnowYourMeme editor-in-chief Brad Kim explains, was not totally arbitrary; “Sometime during the 2016 United States presidential election,” Kim writes, “Pizza Party Ben and Milo Yiannopoulos began making the gesture together at various events supporting the candidacy of Donald Trump.”

On February 13, 2017, a few weeks before the 4chan post, Jim Hoft and Lucian Wintrich of the alt-right outlet Gateway Pundit made the okay symbol in the White House Press Room. The left-leaning media watchdog Media Matters denounced it as a “hate symbol,” noting that images of alt-right mascot Pepe the Frog sometimes showed the character doing the “okay” sign:

A far bigger blow-up occurred the following April when journalist Emma Roller, then of Splinter, tweeted a photo of alt-right celebrities Cassandra Fairbanks and Mike Cernovich making the okay sign in the White House press room:

Screengrab by Know Your Meme

To Channers and alt-right loyalists, this was the ultimate proof that the prank had worked: A left-leaning journalist had been fooled into thinking an innocuous hand gesture was a secret sign of deep, racist evil. Especially funny to them was when Roller explained her tweet by referencing a diagram … originating in the 4chan post that launched “Operation O-KKK”:

Screengrab via KnowYourMeme

At first Fairbanks and Cernovich seemed to be having a laugh over the whole situation. Fairbanks told BuzzFeed News’s Joe Bernstein, “There was a troll meme going around saying that it meant white power. But it was a joke because Trump supporters are always being called Nazis even when it isn’t true.” Cernovich told Bernstein that he borrowed the hand gesture from Jay-Z, and from a conspiracy theory alleging that Jay-Z used the gesture as a sign he’s in the Illuminati.

Fairbanks would later purport to take the accusation a bit more seriously, and sued Roller for defamation in federal court. Judge Trevor McFadden of the DC District Court, a Trump appointee, dismissed the lawsuit in an opinion memorably beginning, “Plaintiff Cassandra Fairbanks trolled the web through Twitter …”

Holt at Right Wing Watch said that meanwhile, “people at the ADL and people like me who follow this stuff full-time tried to explain that this is not actually a symbol tied to white supremacy in any way.”

Another iteration of the controversy exploded in December 2017, when the Daily Mail reported that White House intern Jack Breuer had flashed a “known ‘white power’ sign during a photo-op with President Donald Trump.” Here’s the photo in question, from then-Mail reporter Jessica Chasmar:

Breuer strenuously denied the suggestion on Twitter:

In some of our intern pictures, I emulated the OK sign the President sometimes makes. That was foolish. I should have listened more closely to the Commander-in-Chief and given the thumbs up. (1/2)

— Jack Breuer (@jjbreue) December 29, 2017

I’m proud of my Jewish heritage and strongly reject the hateful views associated with racist white power organizations. I would never make common cause with them. (2/2)

— Jack Breuer (@jjbreue) December 29, 2017

Snopes, the fact-checking website, called the accusation against Breuer “unproven,” noting that the only evidence the Mail produced for the suggestion that Breuer intentionally made the sign as a show of alt-right solidarity was an anonymous quote from a fellow White House intern. Even that source conceded, “Jack’s a good kid and is probably doing it as a joke.”

Holt, at Right Wing Watch, said that while it began as a hoax, the symbol’s success as a troll has given it some new meaning in right-wing circles it didn’t have originally. He says intentional use of it falls into two camps. “One is white supremacists making a tongue-in-cheek inside joke to each other,” he said. “Then the larger contingent of people are people who do it in the photos to get a reaction and troll the libs.”

In the former camp, he includes people like Charlottesville rally organizer Jason Kessler; in the latter, folks like Cernovich, an alt-right troll who, while certainly a racist, is “probably more concerned with just trying to make liberals and the #resistance look as bad as humanly possible.”

Zina Bash, the latest conservative ensnared in an okay sign controversy, has a more intellectual pedigree than her predecessors Breuer, Fairbanks, and Cernovich. According to her LinkedIn page, she holds degrees from Harvard College, Harvard Law School, and Penn’s Wharton business school, and she clerked for both Brett Kavanaugh on the DC Circuit (hence her presence at the hearings) and for Supreme Court Justice Samuel Alito.

Until recently, she worked in the Trump White House as a special Assistant to the President for regulatory reform, legal and immigration policy. In July, she joined Texas Attorney General Ken Paxton’s office as a senior counsel.

It seems clear that Fairbanks and Cernovich were using the hand signal to troll the libs, and at least plausible that Breuer, Holt, and Wintrich were as well (the latter two are pretty prominent alt-right racists, but their incident was also before the 4chan hoax began). But was Bash? It’s certainly possible she was exposed to the idea of the troll.

That said, it’s equally if not more plausible that she was replying to a text message. (Some Twitter hand signal detectives argued she can be seen getting an alert on her phone before the hand signal appears.) Or maybe she was signaling to someone watching the livestream; sending an okay signal to a senator or staffer sitting opposite her and Kavanaugh; or just fidgeting with her fingers.

There’s simply no reason, other than an epistemological commitment to assuming the absolute worst of absolutely everyone ever associated with the Trump administration, to believe she did a small hand movement to prove her commitment to white supremacy.

It’s, of course, natural for fake news about the president and his aides to proliferate among their political critics. When I was 14, I really sincerely believed that George W. Bush had snuck in an earpiece so he could be fed answers during his debates with John Kerry, and that the “bulge” in the back of his suit jacket proved this.

This was, of course, nonsense. But Bush really was awful, and really was prosecuting a horrific war killing hundreds of thousands of people and torturing many more. That made ridiculous suggestions, like that Bush had to cheat at televised debates, seem plausible to me (that, plus I was 14 and my brain was small and unformed).

And, of course, fake news about Barack Obama (he’s secretly Kenyan!) and Bill Clinton (he’s a cocaine trafficker!) spread wildly among conservatives during their presidencies.

But in a way, the Zina Bash fake news is stranger, because it seems to confirm something we all already know: the Trump administration contains racists who want to use policy to harm nonwhite people. You don’t need a hand signal to know that.

Take, say, Rosie Gray’s exposé in the Atlantic of Homeland Security staffer Ian M. Smith, who was close with numerous white nationalists and went to a house party advertised as judenfrei (or “free of Jews”). Or take Stephen Miller, the White House domestic policy adviser responsible for the partial implementation of Trump’s promise to ban Muslims from the US and for the policy of separating immigrant families, and who alt-right leader Richard Spencer has described as a friend and ally when they were at Duke together.

Or take, I don’t know, the president: a man who as a candidate promised to ban all Muslims from the US, who calls Elizabeth Warren “Pocahontas,” who said that a Mexican-American judge is unfit to preside over cases involving him, who called Mexican immigrants “rapists,” claimed Muslim-Americans celebrated the 9/11 attacks. And then, after all that, a man who came into office and set about implementing the most anti-immigrant policies in years, slowing housing discrimination law enforcement to a halt, and reorienting the Justice Department away from fighting racial discrimination against black Americans. Oh, and who empathized with neo-Nazis after Charlottesville, and described Haiti and African nations as “shithole” countries, for good measure.

We don’t need to interpret hand signals to know where this administration stands on racism and white supremacy. We know very well where it stands.

Original Source -> No, a former Kavanaugh clerk didn’t flash a “white power sign.” Here’s what really happened.

via The Conservative Brief

[inerginc]

GTM Smart Grid http://ift.tt/2eJlQnQ

Over the past few days, we’ve seen a story about Russian agents hacking the U.S. power grid spread like wildfire across the internet -- only to be debunked as a wild overstatement of the facts at hand.

Yes, a single laptop belonging to Vermont utility Burlington Electric was found to have visited an IP address cited by the Department of Homeland Security and the FBI as being associated with a Russian hacking operation, dubbed Grizzly Steppe, that also hacked the U.S government during the election.

But there’s no evidence that this amounted to anything other than a utility employee checking his or her Yahoo email account, as the Washington Post reported Monday in what amounts to an extensive retraction of its Friday story that started the firestorm.

At the same time, cybersecurity experts see the potential to learn from the whole affair. After all, the very real shutdowns of Ukrainian grid substations in December 2015 -- the first-ever confirmed cyberattack against grid infrastructure -- got started through similarly innocuous intrusions into utility IT systems.

That’s the conclusion of a report from the SANS Institute, a cybersecurity training organization that traced the Ukrainian outage to a sophisticated campaign. The attackers gained entry to utility computers and obtained user credentials and passwords, as well as other key data. They then used that information to infiltrate the industrial control systems (ICS) and automated grid devices such as breakers, serial-to-ethernet data converters and uninterruptible power systems.

There’s no evidence whatsoever that anything like this has happened in Vermont, or elsewhere in reported instances of cyber-intrusions into U.S. grid systems. But that doesn’t mean that these possibilities should be dismissed out of hand, Mihir Kapadia, vice president of engineering for cybersecurity firm N-Dimension, said in a Tuesday interview.

Most of the threat indicators coming from the FBI-DHS Joint Analysis Report (JAR) were “what we would deem weak indicators,” Kapadia said. “When we get information like this, the first step is to analyze and vet it, and start to classify it. There are some weak indicators of compromise -- which by no means people should ignore. But it’s all a starting point for a deeper investigation.”

In the case of the Burlington Electric laptop's visit to a JAR-flagged IP address, “There are a lot of legitimate reasons why you would have traffic between one of your machines and Yahoo,” he said. At the same time, hackers often use servers to launch phishing attacks -- posing as a real company to engage computer users in email exchanges or website visits that deliver malware to their computers -- and then move on to different servers after some time. “If we have recorded timestamps of these events, we can start to piece it together," said Kapadia. "Was this done under suspicious circumstances, or does it represent legitimate traffic?”

Other, stronger threat indicators from the DHS-FBI report include injection flaw techniques that attempt to send commands to a browser or database, or cross-site scripting vulnerabilities that allow attackers to insert and execute unauthorized code in web applications. “Based on our analysis, we’d say that’s not a strong indicator -- it’s probably a medium indicator of compromise, since it’s more specific," Kapadia said. 

All of these threat indicators pertain to a “Stage 1” cyberattack on a utility -- the part targeting its business IT equipment and networks. Moving on to “Stage 2” requires the leap from IT systems and into the operations technology (OT) networks, such as the SCADA networks that run power grids.

Companies typically rely on the separation between corporate IT networks and OT systems to bar entry from one to the other. But “we’re too comfortable relying on that separation,” Edgard Capdevielle, CEO of industrial control system cybersecurity startup Nozomi Networks, said in a Tuesday interview. With the increasing level of automation and interconnection between IT and OT, “that is a permeable wall; it is not a brick wall," he said.

Specifically, hackers with access to IT networks can gather credentials and passwords that allow them to access the virtual private networks that connect business networks to OT systems, breach the firewalls between the two, and gain control of devices like remote terminal units and programmable logic controllers that operate automated industrial or grid equipment.

Protecting these OT systems is complicated by the fact that they tend to run on software that’s years out of date, Capdevielle added. “The technology adoption and innovation in the OT side of the fence is lagging,” he said. “These sets of folks are just moving off Windows XP. Windows 7 is just happening right now -- which for IT, happened seven to 10 years ago. So that means they have very little visibility, very little control, very little asset management on the PLC side of the house. The ability to troubleshoot things is not the best.”

Making use of access to OT systems requires a high level of understanding of the industrial or grid systems they command, in order to achieve the effects attackers are after. That’s a more complicated matter than hacking IT systems to steal data or run denial-of-service attacks. “In many cases, there is significantly more value, depending on the attacker’s current goals, in performing espionage than in perpetrating an actual attack that would include the destruction or manipulation of systems,” according to a SANS Institute report on the subject, Industrial Control System Kill-Chain.

Even so, it’s important to identify Stage 1 threats that are leading up to a full Stage 2 “cyber-physical attack,” since “sustained access provides the opportunity for attackers to initiate follow-on actions later if they align with national security or military goals and/or criminal objectives,” the report noted.

In this context, the fact that the Burlington Electric laptop in question wasn’t connected to the utility’s OT network isn’t very reassuring, said Michael Assante, the ICS/SCADA lead at the SANS Institute, who co-authored the reports on the Ukrainian grid cyberattack and the ICS Kill-Chain.

“The whole goal is to get a host, and then start harvesting credentials,” he said. “If that laptop was really associated with [Russian intelligence services] activity, and there’s malware on it, and it was discovered five weeks later, that’s ample time for the bad guy to achieve significant persistence and control. They’re far past that laptop.”

To be clear, Assante isn’t suggesting that’s what happened in the case of Burlington Electric. But he did note that the Department of Homeland Security’s Industrial Control Systems Cyber Emergency Response Team (ICS-CERT) has documented attempts by Russia to access U.S. energy infrastructure over the last five years, using malware such as Black Energy 2 and Havex, that were only discovered months to years after their introduction.  

“Havex and Black Energy 2 were both campaigns discovered in the 2013-2014 timeframe,” he said. “They were pretty broad-reaching access campaigns, in Europe and the United States, getting into infrastructure through various techniques,” including some complicated efforts such as “Trojan-izing” industrial control system vendor software update files to gain access and compromise systems.

“People are spending money to do this. And when we learned about them, peeled the onion layers back, they had been going for some time -- we caught them later in the game," said Assante. "So I am concerned we have had compromises to the infrastructure.”