#its also the one where (at least in the polish dub) he responds 'it was my pleasure' to a woman saying thank you :) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

muffinlance · 5 years ago

Note

Ok so Kindling!AU Zuko probably would be pretty useless as a firebender right? I mean by the time he got banished he was probably like... instinctively afraid of fire, even his own (especially his own if Ozai trained him heh) Does this mean he pretty much stopped firebending? Or does he like... not care how afraid and even more burned he gets, he's gonna firebend because he won't dishonor himself even further and also like surely that's what his father would want from him? ;))))

No one called them Kindling, officially. The word never appeared on any written document, any report. It got censored out of letters home.

Unofficially, everyone called them that.

In the 41st Division, their unit was officially dubbed the 41st Fire Starters. Like all Kindling units, they were kept largely to camp outside of active duty. For better supervision in their training, of course. Their talents weren't to be wasted on scout patrols or minor scuffles. Their barracks were in the middle of everything, the non-bender units and command posts and sentries standing between them and the outside world. For their own protection, of course.

Not firebending was not an option. Not even for their newest recruit, the wobbly kid who was only going to have half a face once those bandages came off. Kuzon of Nara got a peek when he was in the hospital tents getting his hands rebandaged. He wasn't very good at bending. The kid must be worse, with a face like that. The kid was young. So was Kuzon.

The average life expectancy for Kindling in the field was three years. One of those was their training year.

The 41st Division's training year was ending soon. The new kid must have ticked someone off, to get assigned here just as they got their first marching orders.

(The new kid looked a hell of a lot like Prince Zuko, may he rest in peace. It was a training accident that claimed the young prince's life. Of course.)

(Under those bandages, the new kid's raw burn was the size and shape of a grown man's fist. If that fist was on fire. No one said anything about this. Of course.)

Kuzon didn't gossip about what he saw. He told everyone, but that wasn't the same as gossip.

"Hey, kid," he said in the dark of the barracks. (It was after light's out, and they'd been locked inside for their own good, of course.) "We're going to take care of you, okay? Wherever you came from, that's over now. They don't... they don't hurt us, here."

Kuzon had some scars too. Not from bending; his mum wasn't a bender. His mum complained that if she had to raise a piece of Kindling for the military to burn, the least they could do was pay to feed him. His mum had three other non-bender kids to look out for. It had to be hard raising a kid you knew you couldn't love.

"Not on purpose," Kuzon added, into the silence. The kid curled up tighter on his bunk. Maybe he even got some sleep.

Officially, the kid's name was Li. The kid was real slow about responding to that.

Unofficially, they called him Prince.

"Just a nickname, Sarge," Kuzon smiled at their squad leader. "Harmless, right?"

The Sarge let out a breath, and then got back to yelling them through their drills.

The kid had been cleared for training (too soon).

The kid went through water like he was running a fever (he was).

The kid came with them all to the hospital tent afterwards, and fell asleep sitting up while they chattered around him. While the healers wrapped their new burns, and checked their old. Kuzon nudged him awake before the nurse could set a hand on him. Prince did not like waking up to unfamiliar faces. Kuzon wasn't exactly familiar, but he was better than nothing.

"Where are you hurt?" the nurse asked. Clinical, perfunctory. It must be hard, helping patients who would never really heal.

"Just my face," Prince said.

The nurse's lips turned down. "I mean new injuries."

"Nowhere," the kid said, and he sounded so puzzled about it. Like after a full day of training, that was normal.

(Prince Zuko was said to be a crap bender. Such a tragic death. If only he'd been born with the talent of the rest of Sozin's line, that innate control that had let them ascend to leadership, their bending blessed by Agni himself.)

(A lot of the kid's scars had the wrong edges to them, if you knew what to look for. Accidents were accidents: they flared, they dotted little ember-trails, they didn't stop clean like a hand wrapped around a forearm.)

(Kindling were allowed to wear short sleeves during training. Encouraged, even, for their quartermaster's sanity. The kid never did. He barely ever lit those trailing edges on fire, either.)

"You never have to go back," Kuzon said, into the darkness between their bunks. "I know this isn't a great life, but it's better, right?"

"...I miss home," the kid whispered back.

"Yeah," Kuzon said. "Me too."

You could miss things even when they were terrible for you.

The Sarge had been working them extra hard since their deployment orders came. He didn't need to remind them that the only prisoners the Earth Kingdom ever took were non-benders. Kindling were dangerous enough to themselves.

The non-bending units were getting worked just as hard. The officers all looked like they'd swallowed lemon-kumquats. They stopped sometimes, and watched the Kindling squad at training. Watched Prince. Left, after a good long look, their expressions unreadable.

Now that the kid's fever had broken (now that he almost-trusted that they wouldn't lay a hand on him, with fire or not), he'd taken to yelling at their sloppy bending almost as loud as the Sarge. The Sarge allowed it. The Sarge might have been in love.

The kid's new nickname was Sergeant. Sergeant Prince, Sir Yes Sir, if they were being formal.

"I hate you all," the kid said, and only growled when they ruffled his chick-fuzz hair. (Their entire unit might have been in love.)

Deployment day. Camp was packed up, and distributed largely to the wagons and the backs of the non-benders. Couldn't really trust the Kindling not to light something vital on fire, after all.

"You've got your full three years until retirement," Kuzon tried to joke. (It wasn't a joke.) "We've already used one of ours up. Remember that, okay? You're the one who's going to be fine. Statistically speaking."

The kid's scowl was really good, with that scar.

They reached their new camp site, on the wrong side of the lines. The Kindling unit took one of its small pleasures in life: heckling the non-benders as they set up.

"You could help."

"With our delicate constitutions?" Kuzon gasped, a hand over his heart. The fake swooning was probably unnecessary, but it made Sergeant Prince snort. Which was pretty much rolling in the dirt laughing, from anyone else.

None of the officers were laughing. Or shouting more than necessary. The camp was reassembled to military standard, and not a polished-boot more. It felt hollow, somehow.

Their first fight made it pretty clear why. It was also their last fight, after all.

The kid was alive, the last Kuzon saw. They'd done that much right. Without a locked bunk room or checkpoints or sentries watching inside the camp as much as out, he could leave. Run. They made him run, scared him with fire when he wouldn't, gave him a few more non-accidental scars. They wouldn't look any different then the rest of the kid's collection, but they were.

Where would be go? He was as obvious as firebenders got. The Earth Kingdom would kill him on sight; he'd have to go back to the military. That was the real trap. Not the locks or the guards. There was no place else that let Kindling burn, even for the short time they had.

But the kid was alive. That wasn't nothing.

Kuzon hissed in pain when the soldiers flipped him over. They weren't trying to be rough about it, but they weren't trying for gentle, either. Just checking the bodies.

It hurt too much to hold his breath, so playing dead had never been an option. He just kept breathing in quick tight breaths, and gave the guys in green his best smile. More or less.

"You a bender?" one of them asked.

Didn't really seem much point in answering, all things considered.

The other one lifted Kuzon's arm--stopped lifting when Kuzon couldn't help the noise that brought out of him--and rolled up his sleeve.

Rough burn scars, and yesterday's bandages. Yeah, he was a bender. The guy's face twisted in disgust, but the way he set Kuzon's arm back down was almost gentle.

"They're all so young," the guy said.

"Yeah," his partner said. Which was about the only thing a man could say, when everyone knew the truth didn't change anything.

Kuzon of Nara didn't see much after that.

#way to bring down the average Kuzon #Kindling AU

661 notes · View notes

ghostking-wenning · 4 years ago

Text

Radishes, Chapter 6.2

This one’s a 2-part! Enjoy!

2.5K, Rated G, modern au, NingXian etc

***

Qionglin sat bolt upright in his bed. A thin sheen of cold sweat coated his body, the sheets tangled around his legs. His chest heaved and his cheeks flushed. A dream. It was just a dream! Oh, but what a dream it had been. Wuxian on his knees before him, looking up at him as he… oh god. Qionglin clapped his hand over his eyes, as if that would block out the memory of that vision.

Tentatively, he stood on shaky legs. He breathed a sigh of relief when he realized he hadn’t made a mess of his sheets, aside from wrinkling them beyond recognition. Sure, he’d had raunchy dreams before, but never like this! Never so long, with such detail, with a specific person that he actually knew! They weren’t even boyfriends yet! They had only recently shared their first kiss! Why would his brain conjure up such naughty imagery? Such naughty sensations?

He shivered remembering the feeling of Wuxian’s hands… and mouth… all over him. It had felt so real, even though he’d never done any of … that. His dream had even replicated the scent of his cologne, the flavor of his favorite wine. Heat coiled in his belly as he remembered the way he squished him against the wall, leaning his whole body into him. Then all that heat immediately rushed to his face when he remembered the way he had simply submitted to Wuxian’s ministrations, baring his throat like a dog to a wolf.

Really? He asked himself. Is that what I’m into? A wave of dread and shame washed over him when he heard an echo of the words “good boy” whispered in his ear and remembered how much he loved it.

“Oh god,” he groaned aloud. “I’ll never be able to look him in the eye again…” What a shame that was, too, they were such beautiful eyes. Especially when they were fixed on Qionglin with that searing heat as he--

“Nope!” Qionglin said, forcibly derailing that train of thought. A cold shower. That’s what I need. He peeled off his sweat-soaked nightclothes and headed to the bathroom. In the mirror, he was almost surprised to find his neck and chest exactly as they always were, not mottled in lurid red marks. He couldn’t bring himself to look any further down, so he hopped into the shower and turned it on full-blast, hoping the water would pressure-wash his filthy mind. He didn’t even flinch at the cold.

He lost track of time, but he eventually calmed down. He dried off and redressed himself in clean pajamas. It was still several hours before he needed to be awake. He laid down on the couch, so he wouldn’t have to change his sheets for the moment.

Mercifully, the rest of his sleep was dreamless and deep. He woke to the sound of his phone chiming. He had a message from his sister.

“Happy birthday, little brother!! I love you! We still on for dinner tonight?”

Oh god it’s my birthday! In an instant, all traces of sleepiness vanished. Somehow he’d entirely forgotten his own birthday. Am I seriously that clueless? He shook his head, rolling his eyes at himself.

“Thank you, jiejie! Yes, of course, I’ll meet you at 7!” He replied, tacking on a few heart emojis.

Granny didn’t allow anyone to work on their birthdays, so he had nothing to do until dinnertime. He slumped on the sofa and stared at the ceiling until his phone pinged again.

“Bring that little punk boyfriend of yours. I have to make sure he’s good enough for you.”

He knew Qing well enough to read between the lines: “This is not a request.”

He didn’t even bother pointing out that they weren’t technically boyfriends yet.

Usually he would be elated to spend time with Wuxian on his birthday, but a) Qing could be … intense… he wasn’t sure if he was ready to introduce them yet, and b) he was convinced Wuxian would somehow read his mind and discover what a weird pervert he was. Maybe he’s busy! Maybe he won’t even come. He tried to reason with himself, but that actually just made him sadder.

It took a couple of hours to build up the courage to text Wuxian. He was a lot of things, sure, but he wasn’t a psychic. (Right? That would be crazy… right?) If Qionglin could just keep his cool, he’d never have to know about his dreams. He took a deep breath and opened the message app.

“Hey, Wuxian! Are you busy tonight?” He cursed the way his fingers shook as he typed.

Not five minutes later, his phone beeped.

“Nope! What’s up?”

Fuck.

“I’m having a birthday dinner with my big sister, and I was wondering if you’d like to join us!” He decided not to mention that Qing wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Wait, is it her birthday or your birthday??”

“Mine.”

“What?!”

“Why didn’t you tell me!!”

“Happy birthday!!!!!!!!”

“I forgot! I’m sorry!” It was fully true, but that didn’t make it less ridiculous to admit.

“FORGOT? Wild. Anyway I gotta go find you a present! Can’t wait to see you later!” A string of kiss emojis followed, and Qionglin giggled in spite of himself.

He gathered himself quickly and responded. “You don’t have to get me anything!!”

“Too late! I’m already out the door! See you later byeeee!”

A minute later, Wuxian texted again. “Wait, where and when am I seeing you?”

Qionglin snickered softly, an endeared smile growing on his face. He sent Wuxian the map link and enjoyed about four minutes of peace before remembering why he’d been so nervous about texting Wuxian in the first place.

Panic hit him like a train. Several trains, maybe. His heart skipped and his fingers tightened around his phone so hard his hand shook. Calm down, he tried to tell himself over the alarm bells clanging in his head. Calm down!! Through sheer force of willpower, he evened out his breaths. In through the nose, out through the mouth, he repeated like a mantra.

He walked briskly to his bedroom, pointedly ignoring the rumpled sheets on his bed and snatched his anxiety medication. He popped one in his mouth and hastily gulped some water, and sank into his desk chair. Leaning back, he shut his eyes and waited for his heartbeat to calm.

Something to focus on, that’s what he needed. Something hands-on. But if Granny caught him working the fields, she’d chase him away with a rake -- it had happened before. So he decided on target practice. He grabbed his bow from its stand in the living room and marched out to the woods.

In a small, round clearing were a line of painted wooden targets he’d made himself. He liked to warm up starting from 30 meters, then progressively back away. He took a deep breath as he lined up his shot, shoulders flexing as he drew the bowstring back. The middle target, dead center. He exhaled slowly as he released the arrow, which made a satisfying thunk as it sank exactly into the center of the target.

After landing perfect bullseyes into each target, he backed away to 40 meters, then 50 and so on. He felt perfectly centered; there was nothing in this forest but him, his bow, and his breath.

He leapt about a foot in the air when his phone chimed in his back pocket. How was it already 5 PM!? Where did the time go? He thought, as he began to gather his arrows. It was well past time to get ready. He hurried back to his house, where a fat orange barn cat woke from its nap on Qionglin’s rain boots. It made a curious prrt noise as it fixed big yellow eyes on him. This was the one his little cousin had dubbed “Cheese.”

“Hello, Cheese,” he greeted, stooping to scratch behind its ears. “I’m sorry, but you can’t come inside.” Cheese purred and pawed at the door, but didn’t put much effort into following him inside.

Hanging up his bow, he realized he felt much better, as if his thoughts sorted themselves out on their own. It was just a dream. It’s perfectly natural, and he’ll never even know! And if he found out somehow, I’m willing to bet he wouldn’t blame me at all. It was magical, almost, how archery relaxed him, even as it wore out his muscles. (His medication probably also helped, but he liked to think it was mostly archery.)

He washed his face, and pulled back his hair, fussing with the locks that were too short for his half-ponytail. Poking through his closet once again, he wondered if Wuxian would say anything if he wore the ghost shirt again. He decided against it, instead opting for a grey striped shirt and a dark blue cardigan that he thought looked pretty sharp. He may not have a lot of nice clothes, but he thought maybe he was getting better at dressing well. Well-ish, at least, he thought, tugging on his comfy-but-ugly sneakers, but it was those or work boots.

He checked his pockets and whisked out the door to his car. He would probably still be on time.

He was not.

Fifteen minutes late, he scurried into the restaurant and scanned the room for his sister. At least for his birthday she might not scold him for being late. Soon enough he found her, looking polished and perfect as ever, in a tasteful dark red dress with her long black-tea-colored hair in a sleek braid. Across from her was none other than Wuxian, Qionglin realized with a start. What-- how did she find him? Why-- oh god what are they talking about?

He stood stock-still for a few seconds, until Wuxian laughed brightly, the sound spurring Qionglin forward. As casually as possible, he strolled over and plunked down beside them. With any luck he’d missed the awkward small talk and Qing inevitably giving Wuxian the third-degree about what he does, and his intentions with her little brother.

“S-sorry I’m late,” he said, offering a sheepish smile.

Qing looked like she wanted to say something about it, but Wuxian beat her to it.

“No worries! Happy birthday!” He said, grinning and reaching for Qionglin’s hand.

“Mhm,” Qing agreed. “Happy birthday, hun.” She patted his cheek fondly, and he blushed, unable to hide his cheesy grin at the attention.

“Thanks…” he mumbled. “Um, so, I guess you’ve already met, so I don’t need to introduce you. I-- I hope you weren’t waiting too long, though.”

“Not at all! Your sister was just telling me about how cute you were when you were little,” Wuxian said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

Qionglin’s head whipped around. “Qing!” He complained, exaggerated betrayal written on his face.

She smiled deviously. “What? You were adorable! You used to hide behind me and follow me everywhere like a little duckling.”

Qionglin groaned and buried his face in his hands while Wuxian giggled.

“He’s still adorable,” Wuxian said. “Absolutely too cute.”

“Yep.” Qing nodded.

Well, at least they’re getting along… Qionglin thought. The rest of the evening went in a similar fashion, the two of them teasing him affectionately and relishing in his embarrassment. After dinner, they sat around chatting over glasses of wine. Qing reached into her purse and produced a small envelope.

Qionglin carefully opened it and read the card. Tucked into the corner was a gift card to a ritzy clothing shop.

“I’ll take you shopping next weekend, if you’re free.” Qing promised.

“Mm! Thanks jiejie,” Qionglin said leaning over to give her a one-armed hug.

“Ooh, my turn!” Wuxian chimed in. From inside his jacket, he pulled a little bundle wrapped in red tissue paper. He handed it over, grinning proudly.

Qionglin untied the silver ribbon holding it together, and the paper unraveled. Inside was a packet of heart-shaped candies and a set of charming pins shaped like monsters: a werewolf, a sea serpent, an alien, and a ghost, much like the one on his t-shirt. Qionglin’s heart threatened to burst in his chest. Faintly blushing, he gazed up at Wuxian, who was watching him intently, eyebrows raised.

“Thank you…” he said, somewhat breathlessly. “I love these.”

Wuxian’s face split into his signature dazzling grin. “I’m so glad! I noticed you don’t accessorize much, and I thought maybe it was because jewelry would get in the way of farm work or whatever, so I figured pins might suit you-- I even made sure to get the kind with extra-sturdy backs so they won’t fall off!”

Qionglin chuckled shyly. “That’s… really thoughtful. Thank you,” he repeated.

Qing scoffed lightly. “Way to show me up,” she said looking pointedly at Wuxian, but she was smiling. She gave a small, approving nod. Apparently Wuxian met her expectations well enough. She stood gracefully and tossed her braid over her shoulder. “Well, I should get going, but you two have fun, okay? Dinner’s on me.” She bent slightly and gave Qionglin a firm hug and kissed the top of his head.

Then she walked around him and extended her hand to Wuxian, who shook it graciously. She leaned in and whispered something to him that Qionglin couldn’t hear.

Wuxian’s eyebrows shot into his hairline and he blanched. “Yes, ma��am,” he murmured weakly.

Qing flashed Qionglin an indulgent smile and bid them both goodnight, before sweeping away, paying the bill and leaving, her heels clacking decisively.

Qionglin cleared his throat awkwardly. “S-so that’s my sister,” he said tentatively. “I hope she didn’t say anything rude.”

Wuxian laughed, light and breezy, like he hadn’t just looked scared out of his wits. “Nothing unusual, anyway. Just the shovel talk-- and a quick one at that. Very efficient. She’s cool, though!”

“Isn’t she?” Qionglin agreed wholeheartedly. “I-I’m glad you got along okay. She seems to approve. Of you, I mean. Of-- of us.” He felt his cheeks color slightly, savoring the word us.

Wuxian smiled again, and squeezed Qionglin’s hand. “Good. Because I plan on sticking around.”

When they finished their wine, they took a walk through a park to sober up. The moon was just beginning to rise over them as they strolled leisurely, hand-in-hand.

“So, how old are you now? 23?” Wuxian asked, somewhat out of the blue, stopping and stepping off the paved trail.

“Mhm, exactly.” Qionglin said, following him into the trees. “Why?”

“For this,” Wuxian answered. He tugged Qionglin closer and cupped both sides of his face, then began peppering him with kisses, everywhere he could reach. Qionglin spluttered and tried to pull away, but Wuxian was unstoppable. He seemed determined to cover Qionglin’s entire face in a layer of kisses. “20,” he murmured, kissing his left eyebrow. “21,” he kissed the center of his forehead. “22,” he kissed the tip of his nose. “23,” he whispered, and at last kissed Qionglin’s lips, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding him tight.

When they finally parted, Qionglin was breathless and practically vibrating. He hid his face in Wuxian’s collar and snuggled close. Wuxian chuckled lightly and nuzzled his hair. “Happy birthday, Qionglin.”

#mdzs fic #modern au #farmer's market au #ningxian #wei wuxian #wen ning #wen qing #birthday fic!#my writing #my art

15 notes · View notes

meowloudly15 · 5 years ago

Text

Stranded: Day 7 - GHOST SPIDER

First | Previous | Next (finally!)

Gwen perched on top of a brick apartment building and watched Brooklyn bustle below. It was 5:30 now, and she had already stopped two muggers and a grand theft auto. She was pleased with herself. However, there was no sign of the mystery spider. She couldn't blame him for hiding away if he knew that he had been spotted.

Did the mystery spider have a spider-sense like she did?

Did Miles have one?

How was Miles faring, anyway? Gwen hoped that he had gotten a handle on his powers.

She started to jog along the rooftops, looking out for any signs of trouble. She didn't want to web-swing any more than she had to, considering how her web-shooters had jammed up. With any luck, she would be able to clean them up tonight. The process of scraping out all the gunk coating the insides and making sure she didn't misplace any mechanisms during reassembly was laborious. Fortunately, Gwen didn't have to clean out her web-shooters very often. Maybe she should start doing it more regularly, though, considering her ordeal earlier this afternoon.

There was something odd about the sidewalk to her left. She leaped down, perched atop a flagpole, and surveyed the scene.

Yup, the sidewalk was cracked, just like the pavement had been when Gwen fell just a few hours ago. It wasn't the same street, though, so something or someone else must have taken a tumble.

She hoped it wasn't a person. Gwen had survived her fall because of superhuman durability and a fair amount of luck. A normal person would break against the ground. It's not the fall that kills you. It's the sudden stop at the end.

Pieces of a damaged neon sign were also strewn across the ground. Most of the characters had broken, but two numbers remained intact: a 4 and a 2.

Something glittered on the sidewalk. It was probably part of the sign, but Gwen felt like investigating anyway.

She landed lightly on the street and bent over, inspecting the pavement. Sure enough, the pieces were metallic, a mix of green and gold and silver. It was probably from the sign, although it was concentrated in a very small area.

Eh, it didn't matter. It was interesting and mysterious, but it didn't matter. Here was hoping nobody was injured. Considering the lack of blood, it seemed that nobody had been.

PERSONS TAKING NOTICE

A tall, mustachioed man strode out of the store, broom and dustpan in hand. "Hey, you're that ghost spider from the news!"

Gwen froze.

"You here to help or something? Here, take the dustpan."

Too stunned to protest, Gwen obliged. The man started to sweep debris into the pan.

She had made the news here? That was not a good sign. If anybody figured out that she was the jailbreaking fugitive from last week, she was done for, in costume or out of it.

But then again, she wore a mask for a reason. She was just being paranoid. Regardless, she should figure out what the media knew and thought of her.

Should she be here?

IT DEPENDS

Depends on what? What was she not being told?

Gwen tapped the back of the dustpan against the ground, letting the debris slide to the rear so that more could be swept in.

The shop owner spoke: "So, not much of a talker, ah?"

Gwen didn't respond. Silence was probably her best option, even if it wasn't the most courteous one.

"I get that. Secret identity and all. Nice costume, by the way. Very ghostly, and also very spidery."

Ghostly was not the look Gwen was going for, but it didn't matter.

"Oh, and don't worry, I won't tell anyone that you were here, if you want. I can keep a secret, don't you fret. Never told anyone for years what was up with my sister. 'Course, that ended up being kind of a bad thing, since she ended up in the hospital after a fashion, but it's water under the bridge."

They finished sweeping up the area in front of the shop. Gwen gave the man a salute and swung away as he watched in awe.

He seemed like a nice fellow. A bit odd, perhaps, but nice.

Where to next?

GHOST SPIDER

Gwen tensed up, ready to fight.

She looked around, but there was nobody in the area who appeared to pose a threat.

Was the mystery spider here? Or was it somebody else?

She spotted a television in a store window, playing the news. She leaped to the street and walked over to it. Two newscasters sat in a polished studio, discussing the latest stories.

"... and, fortunately, the chicken was returned to retail. Our next top story is 'The Mysterious Case of the Spidermen'."

The screen transitioned to a collection of photographs of varying quality on a red background. The images depicted numerous figures either leaping between buildings, clinging to walls, or swinging from weblines. She recognised her own costume among them.

"Residents both of New York City and around the world have mourned the untimely death of Spiderman, now known to the public as Peter Parker, but eyewitnesses have reported seeing other spider-like heroes in the Brooklyn and Manhattan metropolitan areas. Five or six new Spidermen have been spotted and named by the superhero enthusiast community."

A slightly fuzzy picture of a figure clad in red, blue, and grey and wearing a long coat slid to the top left corner of the screen. A caption appeared underneath it, reading "Spiderman 2".

"Many have noticed the obvious similarities between not only the costume but the build of this mystery spider and the original Spiderman. Some believe the two to be the same person and think that the funeral was an elaborate ruse."

A clip of people chanting and holding signs saying "SPIDERMAN LIVES" showed up.

"As you can see, some people have been very vocal in their insistence."

A picture of Gwen, clad in her costume and swinging through the forest outside of Alchemax, slid to the top of the screen. Its caption read "Ghost Spider".

"This spider-person's arrival date and gender are hotly debated by the superhero enthusiast community, but most agree that they showed up in New York on the day of Spiderman's alleged death. Based on that coincidence, their colour scheme, and their tendency to show up out of nowhere, the community has dubbed this spider 'Spiderman's Ghost' or 'Ghost Spider'. A small but vocal part of the community believes them to actually be Spiderman's ghost."

GHOST SPIDER

Oh, so the spider-sense was referring to her.

The reporter droned on, now discussing a fellow clad in black and grey, while Gwen let her thoughts roam free.

It was coincidental to the point of being ironic that she thought of herself as a ghost and was now called Ghost Spider. She supposed it was a fitting moniker. Maybe she should adopt it. After all, Spiderwoman wasn't incredibly imaginative. Ghost Spider was all-new, all-different.

Of course, it hammered home the point that Gwen was a ghost. She didn't want to forget that. Considering what she had seen from the other dimension, she wasn't supposed to be alive; at least, she assumed so. And considering that the mystery spider was male and resembled Spider-Pete, it was likely true in other dimensions as well. Maybe she should be dead, but since she was here, she was going to make the most of the time she had before she died for real.

Did her dad know she was missing? Was he freaked out? Was he scared? Was he sad?

No, she didn't want to think about that. Gwen looked around instead, trying to distract herself.

Strangely for a Saturday evening, the street was empty. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the dark clouds above and settled on the asphalt, softening outlines with a thin veneer of white. It was cold, oddly cold for early October, oddly cold considering the warmer weather in the past week.

Was it a side effect of the dimensional collider? She had no way of knowing.

RELATIVE CHAOS

The spider-sense cut through her stream of thought. Gwen sighed and prepared herself for battle. "CHAOS" was never a good sign.

A grey-haired woman turned a corner and walked down the road.

What sort of threat did an older lady pose?

Oh wait; she knew that older lady. That was Peter's aunt. Or mother. Probably aunt.

Mrs. Parker seemed to recognise Gwen instantly. "You're that spider-ghost from the news," she remarked.

Gwen nodded. She wasn't going to deny being a ghost. After a pause, she said, "I'm sorry about your ne-"

ATOMIC DISJUNCTION

"-frick." Gwen spazzed briefly, pressing her hand against the window to stabilise herself.

The woman stifled a chuckle with her hand. "Are you all right, young lady?"

Gwen straightened herself and brusquely brushed the snow off of her head and shoulders. "Yes! Never better! I'm doing juuust fi- augh!" She interrupted her own statement with a startled yell as she spazzed out again and keeled over.

Mrs. Parker strode to her side. "Do you need help? Is there anything I can do for you? A doctor or something?"

Gwen did a kip-up and landed on her feet. "I'm fine. I'm fine. I've got this. I can do it on my own."

"It certainly doesn't look like it, but to each their own. Now, what was it that you were saying about my ne-frick?"

"Nephew. Nephew. I'm sorry about him, Mrs. Parker."

Mrs. Parker nodded and smiled ruefully. "I knew he was going to get hurt one of these days. I just… thinking about it doesn't prepare you for it actually happening."

"I understand."

Mrs. Parker shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Those other spiders, if you see them, tell them I'd love to meet them. I'd love to get to know Peter's… his, uh, replacements. I'll give you my address. Feel free to stop by whenever you need." She searched through her coat pockets and looked up. "Do you have paper?"

Gwen handed Mrs. Parker her notepad and pen. The older lady jotted down an address and handed them back.

"Thank you. I'll try to find the rest of them," Gwen said. She leaped into the air and swung off, eyes open for trouble.

First | Previous | Next (finally!)

#gwen stacy #spidergwen #spider gwen #spider-gwen #ghost spider #spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spiderman into the spiderverse #marvel #fanfiction #fanfic #fic #writing #writers on tumblr #stranded #stranded fanfic #spiderverse fanfiction

1 note · View note

superbtheoristcollective-blog · 7 years ago

Photo

NOTES ON THE ORDER OF THE PRINCE: DOES IT STILL EXIST?

The Order of the Prince is an ancient organization whose main focus is the protection of human society against threats of a magical nature that everyday authorities aren’t always trained to fight. Their objective lies upon the elimination of major threats to ensure the survival of their kind.

The Order was originally formed centuries ago, and its members thought to be mainly those descending from the families that were a part of it back then: ancient, royal families usually, who are famous now only in name, and often have no real power. Becoming a member of the Order is a generational tradition and a way of life for those that belong to said families. Though many of these same families dismiss their families’ ties to the Order and have since distanced themselves from such rumours.

Because of such things, along with shifting attitudes toward magic, the true scope of its ranks, locations and secondary activities are scarcely known to the general public as well as scholars, given how much the organization values the protection of its privacy and secrets.

However, I have gathered as much as I can from the oldest records of the Order, along with letters and diaries that belonged to known members of the organization. Hopefully, the information provided here might answer some of the unanswered questions regarding one of Great Britain’s own secret society.

HISTORY:

In the land of England, years before King Arthur rose to power along with his adviser Merlin, there lived a group of powerful knights that took it upon themselves to protect the land from invasion and magical threats. They were well-known for responding to magical emergencies, such as creature attacks and the trespassing of mundus lands. They did it in the name of their King, hence the name.

Their anti-magick policies and noble status made them a rather reliable force against those that would attempt to rise up or otherwise attempt to damage mundus or their traditional way of life.

As views of the people began to change with the rise of Arthur, the group of knights was eventually forced to change their way of being and was rumoured to have been disbanded not long after. The truth was, however, that they began operating secretly. Their goals were still very much the same, but the noble families that made up the order urged to keep their ways secret if the world was to be protected from the powerful threats of magic that would surely come thanks to the new-found image of magicks in the land. They named themselves The Order of the Prince.

As the years went on, the Order operated in secrecy. Only known to the members, they would celebrate meetings and events in what would come to be known as their Guild Hall in London. Crafted through the efforts and budget of the families devoted to the Order, the Guild Hall served as their secret meeting place and a training space as well, where they could hone their craft and research into the creatures they were bound to protect humanity from.

Meanwhile, each family had its own devoted training ground, scattered across Great Britain. Correspondence between families suggest that families often hosted squires and knights (those who are training for the hunt) from other families for training sessions to generate good will and give a boy a well-rounded education. Most of the time, these were disguised as “internships” that boys take during the summer with a family’s business to learn another’s trade.

It must be noted that the location of said Hall has always been shrouded in mystery and rumour, and has actually changed several times over the years depending on the family in charge. All that is known is that its most probable location is within the city of London.

In recent years, there is much evidence to suggest that the views of the Order against Magicks has relaxed. Instead of discriminating them all equally, they have established a hierarchy of threatening creatures that may or may not be hunted and taken down in the name of protecting society and humanity. As a matter of fact, allegiances with certain Magicks, primarily powerful, old fairy families, have proven to be successful for them and have allowed their knowledge to develop further than they originally hoped. However, they still would not ever consider a Magick for membership of the organization, and the act is still strictly prohibited in their guidelines.

THE HIERARCHY OF THE ORDER

King: Once every 7 years, one family becomes the new King of the order following a tourney; the patriarch of that family (eldest male) becomes the reigning King. It is up to the King to move the Guild Hall if he wishes it and host most of the celebrations and rituals.

Queen: the King’s second-in-command and in charge if the King cannot attend or is harmed.

The King’s Council: Comprised of the King, his Queen, and the eldest member of every family in the order. Each is afforded one vote.

CELEBRATIONS AND RITUALS (taken from the diary of a knight in the 1700s-- traditions might have changed)

Rituals

Initiation: All boys at age 14 go through this ceremony to become a squire.

Dubbing: If a boy has passed the first stage of his training by age 16, he is “dubbed” a knight and permitted on hunting parties.

First Blood Hunt: The day after a boy’s 18th birthday, he embarks on his first solo hunt (class D or higher). Many knights don’t slay a creature their first time, and will have the opportunity to take up another blood hunt after they are either nominated by a Prince or request it (and it is approved).

Coronation: After a knight has successfully conducted his first solo hunt (i.e. successfully slayed something), he is crowned a Prince.

The Passage of the Arms (Pas d’armes): This tourney happens once every 7 years. Each family can nominate one Prince (sometimes the Patriarch, but not always) to represent the family in a series of duels to determine the new King of the Order. If the Patriarch does not represent himself, his son/nephew/cousin etc fights for him. Only the oldest member of a family can become the king.

Unicorn Hunt: A unicorn hunt is a rare, special sport for Knights and Princes and usually they happen spontaneously since unicorns can’t really be tracked. Slaying a unicorn is considered a gift to the Order because of all the useful materials it brings such as:

Unicorn hair: woven into bands and ribbons that never break, these are usually beautiful gifts for the ladies of the Order.

Unicorn horn: The horn has many uses. Ground into a powder, it can heal or be used to forge weapons into unbreakable swords and daggers etc.

Proposals:

The process to propose to a Lady of the Order is a long and complicated one. There are three steps:

Courtship: Usually begins at the Ball or Promenade with permission of the woman’s father. They must attend the year’s events together before a proposal is considered.

Presentation of the Family Ring: When a man decides he wants to propose marriage, he gets permission from the woman’s father. Then he presents the woman with the ring of his family. The woman is not allowed to accept the proposal then and there but must take the ring. She must wait at least thirty days before giving an answer, but often times the time is longer and in fact, the longer it takes for the woman to respond, the more likely it is she is to say yes-- because she’s busy working on a sword.

The Forging: If a woman decides she does not want to marry the man, she returns the family ring to him (burn). If she does, she must craft him a sword in her family’s forgery and present it to him. This serves as her acceptance.

Celebrations

The Melee of the Squires: During this tourney over several days, families introduce their newest trainees and they participate in duels, jousts, and other competitions. Boys are usually 14-15 and fight with their brothers/cousins in teams.

The Joust of the Knights: During this tourney over several days, polished Knights +Princes gather for a series of competitions, one on one. Brothers/cousins etc can be pitted against each other during this joust. Boys must be 17 to enter the Joust.

Winter’s Ball: A celebratory event that gathers families together in the Guild Hall for a night of food, wine, and relaxation. Often families try to pair up their daughters and sons for this event.

Summer’s Promenade: The beginning of summer ushers in this casual sporting event, hosted by a family nominated by the King (it is seen as a great honor). Families gather for hunting, cricket, golf, and music and an evening of dance. The ladies are allowed to participate in a horse race (women only!) Once again, this is a good time for families to pair up their daughters and sons.

WOMEN AND THE ORDER

Women are not allowed to train as knights, go on hunting parties, or learn how to fight but they are still an important part of the Order and are often responsible for plenty of tasks within it, including upholding the reputations of the families in public life (often by becoming influential businesswomen, lawyers, politicians, philanthropists and/or socialites) and planning the rituals. They are also, of course, the caretakers of the family, which means not only running a household but keeping a Prince’s weapons sharp, armor strong, etc and be capable of caring for wounds.

Most importantly of all though, women are seen as the keepers of the Order’s history. They are responsible for teaching it to the children and recording the stories whether in verse or song

A woman’s education in the Order, besides learning its rules, rituals, and about the monsters that the men hunt include:

Blacksmithery

Armory

Potion-making/alchemy- only women are allowed to handle the magical aspects of armor and weaponry since women are already impure; think Garden of Eden.

Horseback riding

Music

Public speaking

Archiving

Medicine

CLASSIFICATIONS FOR MONSTERS (ooc: this wouldn’t be known to the general public):

Class A: Really Big Dragons, Sea Monsters (Krakens, Sea serpents, Colossal Squid, Hydra), Giants, Basilisks -- considered the hardest to slay based on sheer size and danger, knights often have to work together in massive hunting parties to take down these beasts.

Class B: Vampires, Sirens, Succubi, Incubi, Sorcerers and other Abusers of Magic, Shapeshifters like the Vaagh or Kitsune, Changelings-- these creatures are often slippery and smart with disguises, skills and spells of their own. Therefore, they require great cunning and strategy from knights to corner and kill...and not fall under their spell themselves.

Class C: Mountain and Forest Trolls, Werewolves, Ogres, Gryphons and Hippogriffs, Hell Hounds, Sphinx, Giant Spiders, Escaped Demons (like Mor’du), -- these creatures are often brutally strong and fast, though a well trained knight can often take one on by themself. Usually knights, for their first solo hunt, go after creatures like these.

Class D: Kelpies, Mermaids (esp carnivorous ones), Chimeras-- though lesser in size and strength, other aspects of these creatures (like a mermaid’s beauty or a chimera’s poison) still make these trickier kills. Some knights do hunt these as a solo hunt.

Class E: Dwarves, redcaps, some species of troll (stone trolls), Unicorn most other miscellaneous creatures fall into class E. Most of these creatures are used for training young knights before their solo hunt.

Class Zero (magicks unharmed by the Order):

Fairies

Celtic and Nordic Elves

Gifteds-- as long as Gifteds have not harmed other Mundus (for example, Celia would be left alone until she has stoned someone; then she’s considered worthy of being hunted. Same with Chester. Same goes for elves rly).

FAMILIES OF THE ORDER

Blackwood

Dunbroch

MacDonald

Dingwall

MacIntosh

MacGuffin

Andersen

Hightower

Westergård

Slayer

Charles

#academic

3 notes · View notes

sheminecrafts · 6 years ago

Text

Is Europe closing in on an antitrust fix for surveillance technologists?

The German Federal Cartel Office’s decision to order Facebook to change how it processes users’ personal data this week is a sign the antitrust tide could at last be turning against platform power.

One European Commission source we spoke to, who was commenting in a personal capacity, described it as “clearly pioneering” and “a big deal”, even without Facebook being fined a dime.

The FCO’s decision instead bans the social network from linking user data across different platforms it owns, unless it gains people’s consent (nor can it make use of its services contingent on such consent). Facebook is also prohibited from gathering and linking data on users from third party websites, such as via its tracking pixels and social plugins.

The order is not yet in force, and Facebook is appealing, but should it come into force the social network faces being de facto shrunk by having its platforms siloed at the data level.

To comply with the order Facebook would have to ask users to freely consent to being data-mined — which the company does not do at present.

Yes, Facebook could still manipulate the outcome it wants from users but doing so would open it to further challenge under EU data protection law, as its current approach to consent is already being challenged.

The EU’s updated privacy framework, GDPR, requires consent to be specific, informed and freely given. That standard supports challenges to Facebook’s (still fixed) entry ‘price’ to its social services. To play you still have to agree to hand over your personal data so it can sell your attention to advertisers. But legal experts contend that’s neither privacy by design nor default.

The only ‘alternative’ Facebook offers is to tell users they can delete their account. Not that doing so would stop the company from tracking you around the rest of the mainstream web anyway. Facebook’s tracking infrastructure is also embedded across the wider Internet so it profiles non-users too.

EU data protection regulators are still investigating a very large number of consent-related GDPR complaints.

But the German FCO, which said it liaised with privacy authorities during its investigation of Facebook’s data-gathering, has dubbed this type of behavior “exploitative abuse”, having also deemed the social service to hold a monopoly position in the German market.

So there are now two lines of legal attack — antitrust and privacy law — threatening Facebook (and indeed other adtech companies’) surveillance-based business model across Europe.

A year ago the German antitrust authority also announced a probe of the online advertising sector, responding to concerns about a lack of transparency in the market. Its work here is by no means done.

Data limits

The lack of a big flashy fine attached to the German FCO’s order against Facebook makes this week’s story less of a major headline than recent European Commission antitrust fines handed to Google — such as the record-breaking $5BN penalty issued last summer for anticompetitive behaviour linked to the Android mobile platform.

But the decision is arguably just as, if not more, significant, because of the structural remedies being ordered upon Facebook. These remedies have been likened to an internal break-up of the company — with enforced internal separation of its multiple platform products at the data level.

This of course runs counter to (ad) platform giants’ preferred trajectory, which has long been to tear modesty walls down; pool user data from multiple internal (and indeed external sources), in defiance of the notion of informed consent; and mine all that personal (and sensitive) stuff to build identity-linked profiles to train algorithms that predict (and, some contend, manipulate) individual behavior.

Because if you can predict what a person is going to do you can choose which advert to serve to increase the chance they’ll click. (Or as Mark Zuckerberg puts it: ‘Senator, we run ads.’)

This means that a regulatory intervention that interferes with an ad tech giant’s ability to pool and process personal data starts to look really interesting. Because a Facebook that can’t join data dots across its sprawling social empire — or indeed across the mainstream web — wouldn’t be such a massive giant in terms of data insights. And nor, therefore, surveillance oversight.

Each of its platforms would be forced to be a more discrete (and, well, discreet) kind of business.

Competing against data-siloed platforms with a common owner — instead of a single interlinked mega-surveillance-network — also starts to sound almost possible. It suggests a playing field that’s reset, if not entirely levelled.

(Whereas, in the case of Android, the European Commission did not order any specific remedies — allowing Google to come up with ‘fixes’ itself; and so to shape the most self-serving ‘fix’ it can think of.)

Meanwhile, just look at where Facebook is now aiming to get to: A technical unification of the backend of its different social products.

Such a merger would collapse even more walls and fully enmesh platforms that started life as entirely separate products before were folded into Facebook’s empire (also, let’s not forget, via surveillance-informed acquisitions).

Seized cache of Facebook docs raise competition and consent questions

Facebook’s plan to unify its products on a single backend platform looks very much like an attempt to throw up technical barriers to antitrust hammers. It’s at least harder to imagine breaking up a company if its multiple, separate products are merged onto one unified backend which functions to cross and combine data streams.

Set against Facebook’s sudden desire to technically unify its full-flush of dominant social networks (Facebook Messenger; Instagram; WhatsApp) is a rising drum-beat of calls for competition-based scrutiny of tech giants.

This has been building for years, as the market power — and even democracy-denting potential — of surveillance capitalism’s data giants has telescoped into view.

Calls to break up tech giants no longer carry a suggestive punch. Regulators are routinely asked whether it’s time. As the European Commission’s competition chief, Margrethe Vestager, was when she handed down Google’s latest massive antitrust fine last summer.

Her response then was that she wasn’t sure breaking Google up is the right answer — preferring to try remedies that might allow competitors to have a go, while also emphasizing the importance of legislating to ensure “transparency and fairness in the business to platform relationship”.

But it’s interesting that the idea of breaking up tech giants now plays so well as political theatre, suggesting that wildly successful consumer technology companies — which have long dined out on shiny convenience-based marketing claims, made ever so saccharine sweet via the lure of ‘free’ services — have lost a big chunk of their populist pull, dogged as they have been by so many scandals.

From terrorist content and hate speech, to election interference, child exploitation, bullying, abuse. There’s also the matter of how they arrange their tax affairs.

The public perception of tech giants has matured as the ‘costs’ of their ‘free’ services have scaled into view. The upstarts have also become the establishment. People see not a new generation of ‘cuddly capitalists’ but another bunch of multinationals; highly polished but remote money-making machines that take rather more than they give back to the societies they feed off.

Google’s trick of naming each Android iteration after a different sweet treat makes for an interesting parallel to the (also now shifting) public perceptions around sugar, following closer attention to health concerns. What does its sickly sweetness mask? And after the sugar tax, we now have politicians calling for a social media levy.

Just this week the deputy leader of the main opposition party in the UK called for setting up a standalone Internet regulatory with the power to break up tech monopolies.

Talking about breaking up well-oiled, wealth-concentration machines is being seen as a populist vote winner. And companies that political leaders used to flatter and seek out for PR opportunities find themselves treated as political punchbags; Called to attend awkward grilling by hard-grafting committees, or taken to vicious task verbally at the highest profile public podia. (Though some non-democratic heads of state are still keen to press tech giant flesh.)

In Europe, Facebook’s repeat snubs of the UK parliament’s requests last year for Zuckerberg to face policymakers’ questions certainly did not go unnoticed.

Zuckerberg’s empty chair at the DCMS committee has become both a symbol of the company’s failure to accept wider societal responsibility for its products, and an indication of market failure; the CEO so powerful he doesn’t feel answerable to anyone; neither his most vulnerable users nor their elected representatives. Hence UK politicians on both sides of the aisle making political capital by talking about cutting tech giants down to size.

The political fallout from the Cambridge Analytica scandal looks far from done.

Quite how a UK regulator could successfully swing a regulatory hammer to break up a global Internet giant such as Facebook which is headquartered in the U.S. is another matter. But policymakers have already crossed the rubicon of public opinion and are relishing talking up having a go.

That represents a sea-change vs the neoliberal consensus that allowed competition regulators to sit on their hands for more than a decade as technology upstarts quietly hoovered up people’s data and bagged rivals, and basically went about transforming themselves from highly scalable startups into market-distorting giants with Internet-scale data-nets to snag users and buy or block competing ideas.

Zuckerberg owns or clones most of the “8 social apps” he cites as competition

The political spirit looks willing to go there, and now the mechanism for breaking platforms’ distorting hold on markets may also be shaping up.

The traditional antitrust remedy of breaking a company along its business lines still looks unwieldy when faced with the blistering pace of digital technology. The problem is delivering such a fix fast enough that the business hasn’t already reconfigured to route around the reset.

Commission antitrust decisions on the tech beat have stepped up impressively in pace on Vestager’s watch. Yet it still feels like watching paper pushers wading through treacle to try and catch a sprinter. (And Europe hasn’t gone so far as trying to impose a platform break up.)

But the German FCO decision against Facebook hints at an alternative way forward for regulating the dominance of digital monopolies: Structural remedies that focus on controlling access to data which can be relatively swiftly configured and applied.

Vestager, whose term as EC competition chief may be coming to its end this year (even if other Commission roles remain in potential and tantalizing contention), has championed this idea herself.

In an interview on BBC Radio 4’s Today program in December she poured cold water on the stock question about breaking tech giants up — saying instead the Commission could look at how larger firms got access to data and resources as a means of limiting their power. Which is exactly what the German FCO has done in its order to Facebook.

At the same time, Europe’s updated data protection framework has gained the most attention for the size of the financial penalties that can be issued for major compliance breaches. But the regulation also gives data watchdogs the power to limit or ban processing. And that power could similarly be used to reshape a rights-eroding business model or snuff out such business entirely.

#GDPR allows imposing a permanent ban on data processing. This is the nuclear option. Much more severe than any fine you can imagine, in most cases. https://t.co/X772NvU51S

— Lukasz Olejnik (@lukOlejnik) January 28, 2019

The merging of privacy and antitrust concerns is really just a reflection of the complexity of the challenge regulators now face trying to rein in digital monopolies. But they’re tooling up to meet that challenge.

Speaking in an interview with TechCrunch last fall, Europe’s data protection supervisor, Giovanni Buttarelli, told us the bloc’s privacy regulators are moving towards more joint working with antitrust agencies to respond to platform power. “Europe would like to speak with one voice, not only within data protection but by approaching this issue of digital dividend, monopolies in a better way — not per sectors,” he said. “But first joint enforcement and better co-operation is key.”

The German FCO’s decision represents tangible evidence of the kind of regulatory co-operation that could — finally — crack down on tech giants.

Blogging in support of the decision this week, Buttarelli asserted: “It is not necessary for competition authorities to enforce other areas of law; rather they need simply to identity where the most powerful undertakings are setting a bad example and damaging the interests of consumers. Data protection authorities are able to assist in this assessment.”

He also had a prediction of his own for surveillance technologists, warning: “This case is the tip of the iceberg — all companies in the digital information ecosystem that rely on tracking, profiling and targeting should be on notice.”

So perhaps, at long last, the regulators have figured out how to move fast and break things.

from iraidajzsmmwtv https://tcrn.ch/2RTUFJq via IFTTT

#IFTTT #iraidajzsmmwtv

0 notes

endenogatai · 6 years ago