#its not harmless but its also not the most evil technology to exist and i think theres so many bigger issues at play

[ratsonas]

generative ai is not uniquely evil, its just another form of technology that makes it more convenient to pull off bad shit that already existed. people already spread mass slop and misinformation on the internet, and industries were already fucking over artists and whatnot. genai is just a tool that makes those things a little easier to do. not to mention that the amount of resources used on genai is comparable to many other internet functions and youre definitely cherrypicking if you think its the only form of technology that has a massive negative environmental impact.

[saintsenara]

How do you think memory charms work from a brain science perspective, and what might the implications of such technology be? Given the complexities of memory—how it works, its function (e.g., in identity formation, decision making, psychological well-being, etc.)—the fact that these spells are so routinely used on Muggles who witness magic—especially under traumatic circumstances—is so sinister…

thank you very much for the ask, pal! a very interesting question to think about!

as you say, memory is the central part of human experience. it's integral to who we are, why we understand ourselves to be that way, and how we function daily. without the ability to remember things we've learned or which have happened to us in the past, we don't have the ability to understand the present or plan for the future, or apply context to why we behave in or feel certain ways. memory is so important to our understanding of our own existence that many people would say losing it is the thing they fear most...

and i think there's a very credible case for jkr being one of them.

in its understanding of the body, the harry potter series prioritises cognitive function above all things.

physical illnesses, injuries, or disabilities don't upset or frighten it unduly. this is partially because its genre conventions need to take this approach to physical impairment in order for their plots to advance - harry being able to take a bludger to the head and live to tell the tale is the same as john wick being able to fall from the top of a six-storey building, get up, and keep going: they're action heroes, and the person following their exploits wants that action to continue.

but it's also because the series' central theme is choice - and, specifically, the choice between good and evil. this choice - as the books understand it - is something freely and rationally made, with no cognitive impairment preventing it.

[hence - as i've written about elsewhere - voldemort's horcruxes do not - despite common fanon - make him insane.]

as a result, injuries, disabilities, or experiences which lead to a loss of cognitive capacity - thereby making it impossible for choices to be freely made - are presented by the text as uniquely horrifying.

the revelation that frank and alice longbottom can't recognise neville after they're attacked by the lestranges brings a "bitterness harry had never heard there before" into dumbledore's voice.

lupin is primarily ashamed of the loss of rational thought his transformations bring, and the wolfsbane potion works by preventing this loss of rationality:

"As long as I take it in the week preceding the full moon, I keep my mind when I transform... I am able to curl up in my office, a harmless wolf, and wait for the moon to wane again. "Before the Wolfsbane Potion was discovered, however, I became a fully fledged monster once a month."

harry thinks that "bathilda bagshot" [really nagini in disguise] is starting to forget how to perform magic, and equates this loss of function with the dark, dank, foul-smelling house in which she lives.

ariana dumbledore's trauma-induced cognitive disability gradually ruins her family's lives.

harry, our hero, is never, ever affected by the imperius curse.

and, of course, the dementor's kiss - which canon understands as the single most frightening thing which could ever befall somebody - brings about a state where bodily functions continue, but cognitive ones are lost:

"You can exist without your soul, you know, as long as your brain and heart are still working. But you'll have no sense of self anymore, no memory, no... anything. There's no chance at all of recovery. You'll just - exist. As an empty shell. And your soul is gone forever... lost."

as a result of this, canon presents memories as things which are straightforward and factual. while they may be interpreted subjectively - harry's horror at snape's worst memory, for example - they are - in and of themselves - objective accounts of events. the memories which harry views in the pensieve, for example, are not "witness statements" - subjective, personal accounts of how an individual experienced an event, which might be contradicted by another person's own subjective recollection - they are fact. what they say happened actually happened. sirius' version of snape's worst memory would be identical to snape's.

and canon understands that memories are - therefore - devoid of things like perception, assumption, imagination, habit, and emotion. indeed, these things are not only irrelevant to the memory... they are detrimental to it.

slughorn's attempt to modify his memory of telling tom riddle about horcruxes is because he wishes to soothe an emotion - shame, at giving riddle the information he needed to commit such evil and then not telling anyone - by presenting an imagined version of events in which he looks better. his attempt to apply these two things to the memory are what curdles it. what dumbledore is asking harry to do, in sending him out to retrieve the unmodified memory from slughorn, is to acquire the objective facts:

"He has tried to rework the memory to show himself in a better light, obliterating those parts which he does not wish me to see. It is, as you will have noticed, very crudely done, and that is all to the good, for it shows that the true memory is still there beneath the alterations."

in saying that slughorn's "true memory" remains accessible, what dumbledore is saying is that slughorn should be judged as having full cognitive capacity. he's compos mentis, he's of sound mind. if the true memory did not remain - if slughorn had managed to corrupt his memory to such an extent that he genuinely believed that his conversation with riddle had never occurred [rather than knowing it did but wishing he'd behaved differently and therefore pretending he had] - then he would, in the eyes of the series, be insane.

now... this - unsurprisingly - is not how human memory actually works. memory is fragile, inconsistent, and subjective. we forget things. we misremember things. we remember things through subjective lenses. we invent false memories.

but we can - nonetheless - use what we know about human memory to uncover a wizarding theory of memory formation which would explain why they think this way.

and why they feel so comfortable tampering with people's memories.

[and why this is horrifying.]

what are memories?

in canon, memories are presented as something tangible - wisps of silvery liquid. and memories actually are physical things - albeit absolutely microscopic ones - which take up physical space in the brain. they're just kept out of the way of our conscious awareness until we need them.

[basically, they're christmas lights in a box in the attic. they physically exist and they're physically present in the house, but they sit - turned off and with no attention being paid to them - until they're needed, when they're brought out of storage and switched on.]

they are made - like almost everything to do with the brain - from neurons, which are a type of cell. neurons work like the wires in a telephone exchange - they transmit chemical and electrical signals across the brain [and, therefore, across the body] in a vast, high-speed, interwoven network:

a digital model of the neural network from a sesame-seed-sized fragment of human brain. there are about 50,000 connections shown. [source]

a neuron receives a signal, which it then interprets. it then sends a response [or action potential] along its stem [axon].

at the end of the axon, there are synapses, which form a bridge to other neurons, linking a chain of communication together.

synapses are generally activated by chemicals called neurotransmitters - such as serotonin, melatonin, adrenaline, dopamine [which are likely to be the ones most people have heard of], and others.

so: neuron x receives a signal, interprets it, and transmits that interpretation as an electrical signal along its axon, causing the release of adrenaline into the synapse linking it to neuron y. this activates the connection between neurons x and y. the signal passes across the synapse into neuron y, which interprets it, and the process continues.

each neuron has thousands of synaptic connections to other neurons. and these connections aren't static - they get stronger or weaker depending on exposure. the more we use the connection, the stronger the connection is.

one way to think of this is to imagine the synaptic connection as a volume dial, which controls how loudly two neurons "talk" to each other. if the connection between neuron x and neuron y is very strong, the synaptic connection allows them to shout at each other, thereby understanding each other clearly. if the connection between neuron x and neuron y is very weak, they're only whispering to each other, are having to strain to hear each other, and will probably only partially hear the communicated information.

the brain will therefore prioritise the information it can "hear" the clearest. this is why, if you learn two pieces of information, and then revise the first piece of information every day for a month and do no revision of the second piece, you will find it much easier to recall the first piece when asked - the brain prioritises the "loudest" voice.

when we learn or experience something we create synaptic connections, linking neurons into circuits in an ever-changing map across the brain.

these circuits are memories.

remembering something is the process of activating a specific neuron cluster, thereby retrieving the information it contains and communicating it as an electrical signal to another part of the brain.

this process of remembering can be unconscious - a smell might prompt us to remember something without us actively intending to; when we write something, we're not consciously thinking about how we learned to write, we just do it - or conscious - we might sniff a particular perfume bottle in order to summon up a specific memory; we might intentionally decide to remember a day we spent writing in a particular place.

what are the different types of memory?

there are two main categories of memory - short-term and long-term.

short-term memory is the brain's capacity to actively hold onto a small amount of information [about four things, on average] for a brief period of time [and by brief we mean around 15 seconds - any memory which can be recalled after that period of time is a long-term one] in order to allow you to do things, like take down a telephone number.

long-term memory, in contrast, is something the brain possesses an infinite capacity for. it can be divided into two subcategories.

the first of these is implicit memory. this refers to recollections which are unconscious, habitual, primed, or conditioned. learned motor skills - things like holding a pen or riding a bike - which you can do without having to think about how [procedural memories] are an example of implicit memories. so are things we are conditioned to do via the association of an action with a stimulus - like pavlov's dogs salivating when they heard the ringing of the bell - and things we are primed to do by general knowledge or contextual experience - like being shown the word "bread" in a word association game and responding "butter" without having to actively think about why that connection exists for us.

the second is explicit memory, which refers to the conscious recollection of a specific thing. explicit memory has two subcategories: episodic memory - the recollection of events or experiences - and semantic memory - the recollection of knowledge or information.

i know that belfast is the capital of northern ireland and paris is the capital of france. these are semantic memories.

i know i went to a restaurant in belfast with my partner last week and that i went to watch the french open in paris with my friend this spring. these are episodic ones.

episodic memory is highly dependent on context and association - you can remember where you parked your car by thinking about the shop you parked next to - some of which is semantic memory in its own right - you can tell that your friend has misremembered a story they're telling about your teenage years because you know you were sixteen when the event took place, your friend is talking about driving, and you possess the semantic knowledge that the legal driving age in the united kingdom is seventeen.

explicit memory is the aspect of memory most clearly affected by conditions like alzheimer's disease, while implicit memories tend to be recalled for much longer.

explicit memory is also the thing most clearly affected in canon by memory charms...

how are explicit memories formed?

at its most basic level, the brain is divided into three parts - the cerebrum, brainstem, and cerebellum. the cerebrum is the thing we’re concerned with today.

its main part - comprising about half of the brain’s weight - is the cortex, which is the wrinkly surface you probably picture when you hear the word “brain”. the cerebral cortex is divided into two hemispheres. each hemisphere has four lobes [so you have eight lobes in total] which relate to specific functions.

[here's a video of a dissection of a real human brain - if you fancy it - which goes into its anatomy in more detail]

nestled in each hemisphere of the cerebrum are several deeper structures.

in the temporal lobe, we find two of these structures - the hippocampus and the amygdala - which are crucial to memory formation. we have one of these in each hemisphere [so two hippocampi and two amygdalae in total] as part of our limbic system - a group of brain structures that regulate things like our sense of smell, emotions, memories, and autonomic behaviours [heart rate, breathing, sweating, etc.].

[here's a dissection of the limbic system, again - fair warning! - using a real human brain]

the hippocampus

when our brain decides it wants to hold onto a piece of information, it's channelled from the prefrontal cortex [in the frontal lobe], which controls short-term memory functions, to the hippocampus, which is then responsible for linking all of the relevant context surrounding the information together - like it's making a patchwork quilt.

let's go back to the example of being asked to take down a phone number. and let's imagine that the person who asks us to take down the phone number is also our fandom-style soulmate. several pieces of information will be created in the brain at once - the memory of being asked to take down the number, the memory of physically doing that, the sensory input of what our soulmate looks, sounds, and smells like, other sensory inputs [what the broader environment looks, sounds, and smells like; the fact we're drinking a coffee; the fact we're wearing a scratchy jumper], the emotion of knowing we've met our soulmate - which are then sewn together by the hippocampus into a coherent, linear account of what occurred.

the hippocampus is selective - it's more likely, even in an episodic memory as emotionally powerful as this one would be, to hold onto information which is comprehensible to it [so, for example, if a song is playing when you meet your soulmate, but its lyrics are in a language you don't understand, it's less likely to retain that as a key part of its account than if it's a song you understand and, especially, a song you already know and like].

it's also inventive - it will fill in gaps in the recollection of an episode. these inventions are often logical and based on both your semantic knowledge and parts of your implicit memory. for example, in the memory of being a child and going to hospital to meet your new baby brother, he is likely to be wearing a blue hat. it is highly unlikely that you actually remember the colour of the hat he was wearing - especially if you were quite young - but your brain settles on blue to fill that gap in your recollection because it knows you were raised in a culture which associates the colour blue with baby boys.

but they're also subjective. you may, for example, have more than one memory of the same event - with each memory's patchwork quilt having a slightly different pattern. to go back to the memory of meeting your soulmate, you might have one version of the memory which was stored by your brain on the day you first met, in which the thing you primarily remember is how nervous and awkward you were and how you were worried your soulmate didn't actually like you. you might then have a second version of the memory which is altered by contextual information you learned after the first version was created - after your soulmate asks you to marry them, for example, you are less likely to dwell on the parts of the first memory which are about worrying they didn't like you.

while the hippocampus is integral for the formation of long-term explicit and implicit memories, it's not the place where these long-term memories are permanently stored. instead, long-term memories appear to migrate [or awaken] from the hippocampus throughout the cerebral cortex, and to become progressively more independent of it over time. when it comes to explicit memories, the older, stronger, or deeper a memory is the more likely its independence from the hippocampus will be.

we know this because of a man called henry molaison, who had most of his hippocampus surgically removed in the 1950s in an effort to treat his epilepsy. following his operation, molaison was only able to form new episodic memories which lasted for less than a minute before they vanished forever from his consciousness, and essentially lived every single day as brand new, with no context surrounding it. the exception to this rule was that he could recall memories relating to significant experiences in his life which he'd formed years - and often decades - before his surgery. he could also recall certain facts - semantic memories - which he'd already known, but he couldn't form new semantic knowledge.

semantic memory also appears to become progressively independent of the hippocampus over time, much like implicit memories we have acquired through conditioning or priming. for example, the memory of the first time we drank a coffee while tired transforms into the general knowledge that drinking coffee generally helps us with tiredness, bolstered by the semantic knowledge that caffeine is a stimulant.

the amygdala

in the analogy of memory formation as being like creating a patchwork quilt, the amygdala is responsible for one of the most important squares the hippocampus sews together: the emotional significance of the memory.

this is one of the most important bits of context which the hippocampus applies to its account of a memory. the more emotive a memory is, the more likely it is to be remembered.

and this isn't just the case when it comes to specific episodic memories - such as remembering your wedding day, or the time you were in a car accident. it applies to semantic memory - if i tell you that paris is the capital of france and then punch you in the face, you'll remember it - and to implicit conditioned and primed memories.

imagine you are three years old, you're in the park, and you meet a dog. the dog is on a lead, calm, quiet, and well trained. you are asked if you'd like to pet it and you say yes. the dog is happy to be petted - it wags its tail and it licks your hand - and you enjoy the experience and start laughing.

the hippocampus takes care of the "bullet points" of this event - the actions and the order in which they occurred, where they took place, and so on. the amygdala assigns an emotional response to the specific episodic memory - that is, when you recall it later, you will feel happy - and to the implicit memory you have accrued from the experience - that is, the next time you see a dog, even if it's not the dog you petted, your brain will be automatically primed to feel calm, safe, and happy.

and now imagine you are three years old, you're in the park, and you meet a dog. the dog is loose, agitated, barking, and much bigger than you. it bounds up to you while you're playing and knocks you to the ground. it growls and you see its teeth. you're afraid and start crying.

the same process occurs, but with a fear response. the hippocampus remembers what happened and in what order, the amygdala remembers how the specific memory made you feel and extrapolates from this to assign that feeling to your implicit memory. the next time you see a dog, even if the dog is on a lead and behaving perfectly calmly, your brain will be automatically primed to feel afraid.

and this reference to fear is important. as i've said, the brain prioritises remembering emotional memories… but it prioritises remembering stressful and/or frightening emotional memories above all other kinds. and it also tends to really cling on to things we have acquired by fear learning - the process by which we unconsciously associate a stimulus with a frightening event.

to return to the scenario above, if you met the nice dog first and then met the frightening dog later, your brain would prioritise the memory of the frightening dog. if you met the frightening dog first and then met the nice dog later, your brain would still prioritise the memory of the frightening dog. and even if you lose the ability to recall the specific episodic memory of meeting the specific frightening dog, your brain would still remember that it was afraid of dogs in general.

the amygdala plays a major role in this fear learning and fear-based recall. and it does this via channels of communication which don't need to involve the hippocampus - it communicates bi-directionally with the cerebral cortex, both with and without the hippocampus also being part of the conversation.

and this has an enormous implication for our wizarding theory of memory.

and so - at last - we come to...

the neuroscience of memory charms

we know from canon that memory charms focus on the removal of explicit memories - and, specifically, the explicit episodic memories which the series understands as objective snapshots of events.

we also know that short-term memory and implicit memory can experience collateral damage when the explicit memory is removed - especially if the charm is performed poorly. we learn in order of the phoenix, for example, that gilderoy lockhart lost the ability to write [an implicit procedural memory] after his charm backfired, and has had to undergo something akin to physical therapy [the way someone who'd received a head injury would] in order to regain this motor skill:

"I'm very well indeed, thank you!" said Lockhart exuberantly, pulling a rather battered peacock-feather quill from his pocket. "Now, how many autographs would you like? I can do joined-up writing now, you know!"

we also know that the recovery of an implicit behaviour - his fondness for signing autographs, a response based in an unconscious assumption he makes whenever he meets anyone [that they're a fan] - is taken by his healers as a sign that his self-perception is stabilising:

"He was rather well known a few years ago; we very much hope that this liking for giving autographs is a sign that his memory might be coming back a little bit... This is our long-term resident ward... For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement... Gilderoy does seem to be getting back some sense of himself."

crucially, we see here no expectation that any specific memories - episodic memories, canon's factual accounts which prove someone to be of sound mind - will return. what the healer means by "his memory might be coming back a little bit" is something general. a memory charm - as the text understands it - affects something discrete.

but lockhart also shows us that the specific episodic memory impacted by a charm isn't deleted from the brain. it remains in storage - and, therefore, retains the potential to be reactivated.

and he also shows us that this potential reactivation is very likely to depend on an emotional stimulus, especially a negative one:

The smile faded slowly from Lockhart’s face. For a few moments he gazed intently at Harry, then he said, "Haven't we met?" "Er... yeah, we have," said Harry. "You used to teach us at Hogwarts, remember?" "Teach?" repeated Lockhart, looking faintly unsettled. "Me? Did I?"   And then the smile reappeared upon his face so suddenly it was rather alarming. "Taught you everything you know, I expect, did I? Well, how about those autographs, then? Shall we say a round dozen, you can give them to all your little friends then and nobody will be left out!"

lockhart clearly associates a stimulus - something to do with harry - with a fear response [probably from being frogmarched at wandpoint and forced to jump into a hole]. this emotional context calls out to an episodic memory it has been severed from, but can't get there and falls silent again, drowned out by the louder activity of the implicit memory, telling lockhart to talk about autographs because these are fans.

so lockhart hasn't lost this specific episodic memory - he just can't access it. from this, we can conclude that memory charms block communication across synaptic connections, thereby preventing a memory from being retrieved.

and we can also conclude that - since wizards regard episodic memories as objective, factual accounts of events, which are unaffected by things like perception, assumption, imagination, habit, and emotion - they only understand the formation of these memories as they happen in the hippocampus. and, specifically, that they understand memory formation only as the hippocampus ordering events into a coherent, linear account - which they regard as objectively correct. we can further conclude that they do not understand anything other than this ordering of events as forming part of the episodic memory process, and, therefore, that they do not understand memory charms as needing to affect anything other than these "factual" snapshots.

which means that a memory charm will block the retrieval of the "bullet points" of an episodic memory from the hippocampus - and, therefore, someone whose memory has been modified won't remember the specific order of events surrounding the memory.

but it won't block the other bits of information - other patches of the quilt of the memory - from being retrieved. it will just remove them from their context.

and - right on the canon page - we learn that this failure to remove anything other than the bullet points, even in memory charms which are accurately and skilfully performed, makes the experience of having a modified memory profoundly disorienting to the person affected.

we see this - for example - in the case of morfin gaunt:

"So the Ministry called upon Morfin. They did not need to question him, to use Veritaserum or Legilimency. He admitted to the murder on the spot, giving details only the murderer could know. He was proud, he said, to have killed the Muggles, had been awaiting his chance all these years. He handed over his wand, which was proved at once to have been used to kill the Riddles. And he permitted himself to be led off to Azkaban without a fight. All that disturbed him was the fact that his father's ring had disappeared. 'He'll kill me for losing it,' he told his captors over and over again. 'He'll kill me for losing his ring.' And that, apparently, was all he ever said again. He lived out the remainder of his life in Azkaban, lamenting the loss of Marvolo's last heirloom, and is buried beside the prison, alongside the other poor souls who have expired within its walls."

morfin's verbal tic is a manifestation of a emotional response which now lacks any other context - the fear caused by his nephew visiting him, on the day the riddles were murdered, and incapacitating him [in a way which would allow him to steal his wand] just before the crime took place. in repeating it, what he's saying is "i know i didn't do this, even though i confessed, but i can't explain how i know this, and i am afraid".

and we know that dumbledore is able to use this emotional clue as the end of a line of string, which he can then follow back across deactivated synaptic connections to the suppressed [and, in canon's view, objective] episodic memory of tom riddle meeting his uncle:

"But he had this real memory in him all the time!"   "Yes, but it took a great deal of skilled Legilimency to coax it out of him," said Dumbledore, "and why should anybody delve further into Morfin's mind when he had already confessed to the crime? However, I was able to secure a visit to Morfin in the last weeks of his life, by which time I was attempting to discover as much as I could about Voldemort's past. I extracted this memory with difficulty. When I saw what it contained, I attempted to use it to secure Morfin's release from Azkaban. Before the Ministry reached their decision, however, Morfin had died."

we see something similar in voldemort's treatment of bertha jorkins:

"But Wormtail - displaying a presence of mind I would never have expected from him - convinced Bertha Jorkins to accompany him on a nighttime stroll. He overpowered her... he brought her to me. And Bertha Jorkins, who might have ruined all, proved instead to be a gift beyond my wildest dreams... for - with a little persuasion - she became a veritable mine of information. "She told me that the Triwizard Tournament would be played at Hogwarts this year. She told me that she knew of a faithful Death Eater who would be only too willing to help me, if I could only contact him. She told me many things... but the means I used to break the Memory Charm upon her were powerful, and when I had extracted all useful information from her, her mind and body were both damaged beyond repair. She had now served her purpose. I could not possess her. I disposed of her."

something we are told about bertha jorkins across goblet of fire - including by both sirius and dumbledore, characters the doylist narrative of this book trusts to be telling the truth - is that she loved gossip. and this - feeling intrigued in, scandalised by, and excited by a piece of information - is an emotional response.

voldemort - like dumbledore - seizes on this emotional component as the end of a line of string. bertha provides him with a piece of semantic information - the triwizard tournament is to be played - which makes her think of piece of general information - she knows barty crouch sr., who is organising it - which causes an emotional response which places the string in his hand - barty crouch sr. = scandal. voldemort then follows that string across deactivated synaptic connections to the suppressed [and, in canon's view, objective] episodic memory of bertha discovering that barty crouch jr. [about whom she possessed various contextual information, such as the fact that he was found guilty of being a death eater] was alive.

ergo, memory charms block the point-by-point recollection of specific episodic memories, unless someone is determined either to do a lot of careful forensic work or to commit murder.

but they do nothing to block the additional context - above all, the emotional context - which is so important to memory formation and recollection. and this is what makes the casual use of them - especially the casual use of them on muggles - so terrifying. because their efficacy is dramatically reduced in circumstances where a memory has an emotional context.

and witnessing someone performing actual magic would undoubtedly inspire quite a strong emotional response...

the circumstances in which they work well will be those like tom riddle sr.'s run-in with morfin. the ministry response to the incident is speedy, which means the memory hasn't been consolidated for long-term storage beyond the hippocampus. the incident seems to be the first time riddle ever interacts with morfin - meaning that he doesn't retain a conditioned implicit response that morfin is frightening or dangerous. riddle talks about the gaunts in a way that suggests he thinks they're funny and ridiculous, laughs at bob ogden as he's chased from the shack, and is happy riding along the lane where he was attacked, which shows that he didn't develop a fear response to the incident [nor, indeed, any significant emotional response at all]. preventing him from recalling this memory is simple, and it has no repercussions.

[in terms of his brain health, that is. obviously, it has a major repercussion in that it removes any pre-warning he might have given himself about merope…]

but outside of this context - in which the ministry essentially gets incredibly lucky that riddle sr.'s brain reacts in the only way which actually makes them viable - memory charms are clearly nowhere near as effective as wizards seem to think.

because, when it comes to people's strongest, deepest memories, the only thing being removed is the ability to run through the summary of events - to go down a checklist of what happened, and to contextualise an emotional response [for instance] by situating it within the account of the event which triggered it. the emotions these memories provoke, and the way in which they're bound up into the knowledge which helps us understand our place in the world, remain. all that happens is that these feelings can't be situated in a point-by-point context which explains how they might have occurred.

and so, to come to the memory charm the series thinks is noble and benign... what hermione does to her parents is remove the bullet points surrounding the most important memories of their lives from their heads, leaving profound, lingering emotional responses, which respond to stimuli even though the grangers can't understand why...

when she says that they don't know they have a daughter, what she means is that they don't remember the list of events which proved that fact to be true. mrs granger doesn't remember that she took a pregnancy test which was positive, mr granger doesn't remember that he witnessed hermione being born, neither of them remember taking her to the cinema to see the little mermaid, or buying her first school shoes, or taking her to see her grandparents on her sixth birthday.

but the evidence of canon is that the emotions attached to these events - and the unconscious knowledge which emerges from them - would remain.

and this is why hermione's modification of her parents' memories is an example of the series' black-and-white, protagonist-centred morality which i absolutely loathe. not because the watsonian text isn't horrified by it [why would harry know how memory charms work] but because the doylist text handwaves it away as something easily reversed [via jkr saying that hermione immediately restored her parents' memories the second the war was over] which left no adverse effects.

because - sure - i'm not quibbling with the need to think of hermione's decision to wipe her parents' memories as necessary, but it needs to be understood as one of those horrific choices which only become necessary because the alternative is worse.

and this necessity doesn't erase the fact that what hermione does to her parents is meaningfully no different from what bellatrix and company do to the longbottoms. we see that alice longbottom retains the emotional context to a memory - she knows that she loves neville and wants to give him a present - even if she no longer remembers who he is and what his relationship is to her. the same thing will have happened to the grangers.

and so "monica wilkins" might have found herself driving down a street in suburban melbourne one december afternoon when a christmas song came on the radio… and for reasons she doesn't understand, she burst into tears… and she went home and started making dinner… and she'd adapted the recipe she was using so it didn't have any coriander in it… but she doesn't know why, because she likes coriander just fine, and so does her husband… and then "wendall" came in, and she told him about her strange experience… and he said that he turned on the tv and meet me in st louis was showing and he had to change the channel because he thought he was going to cry… and this made them both intensely uneasy… because they've got no reason to behave so strangely… so irrationally... they don't have any memories associated with that song or that film… right?

but that's because they don't remember the facts of how their only daughter - who's got the coriander-tastes-like-soap gene - only lasted two days of a family skiing trip in december 1995, even though they hadn't spent any significant time with her since august 1994, before she swanned off back into a magical world which seemed to be robbing them of her piece by piece.

they can only remember how sad it made them feel.

[tyrantisterror]

THE A.T.O.M. CREATE A KAIJU CONTEST 3-D!!!

YOU THOUGHT YOU WERE SAFE!  YOU THOUGHT THAT THE TIME OF MONSTERS WAS AT AN END!  BUT YOU WERE WRONG, FOR NOW YOU MUST WITNESS…

THE A.T.O.M. CREATE A KAIJU CONTEST 3-D!!!

That’s right, it’s back!  Celebrating the publication of The Atomic Time of Monsters Volume 2: Tyrantis Roams the Earth! (which in turn completes The Ballad of Tyrantis arc for this series), I’m holding another monster design jam.  The third of such jams, in fact!

Like the first A.T.O.M. Create a Kaiju Contest, the aim of this contest is to create kaiju that would fit within the setting of my big kaiju story series, The Atomic Time of Monsters.  Think of it as me letting you into my sandbox to play with my toys for a bit, or like you’re being put in the director’s chair of a new ATOM-verse kaiju movie.  That means your entry does have to fit into ATOM’s world, which in turn means that yes, there are limitations to your creativity here.  But limitations can be good sometimes - they can make us explore options we wouldn’t consider when given completely free rein to do what we want!

(also you don’t have to make a three dimensional image or anything, the title’s just a pun on how the third movie in a monster movie franchise will often be a 3-D film)

Read below the cut to learn the rules and whatnot:

THE RULES:

1.  You are limited to one entry per person.  Work hard and make your entry count!

2.  Your kaiju must have some sort of description of its physical appearance and its personality - you can submit a drawing or a written description (or both!) for the physical appearance depending on what you’re most comfortable with.  Using the same template/format as my official ATOM Kaiju Files (https://horrorflora.com/monster-menageries/atom-kaiju-files/) isn’t required, but it was cool when people did it in the last contest, so feel free to do so this time too!

3. The kaiju you create must specifically be created for this contest  - no repurposing characters you made for other, wildly different stories.  This is not “trick TT into drawing/canonizing my main OC” time.

4. The kaiju must fit the setting and aesthetics of ATOM.  I’ll explain this in more detail down below.

5. The kaiju should add something meaningful to the world of ATOM. The more unique and interesting your kaiju is, the more likely you will win the contest.

6. Don’t make your kaiju too dependent on pre-existing ATOM characters - no “Tyrantis’s long lost evil brother who’s the strongest kaiju in the world.” These should be to Tyrantis’s story what War of the Gargantuas is to Godzilla’s movies – heroes (well, monsters) of another story in the same world.

THE REWARDS:

I will make pencil sketches of the top 5 entries in the contest.

I will then make fully rendered illustrations (lineart, colors, & shading) of the top three entries.

The winning entry will be made into a model ala the ones I’ve been making for ATOM’s core 50 monsters, which can then be shipped to the person who created it (should they be able to cover the shipping costs).  That’s right, your kaiju could be brought to life in THREE GLORIOUS TECHNICOLOR DIMENSIONS!  (Hey, we worked the gag title in to the prizes!)

THE DEADLINE: All entries must be submitted by July 3rd, 2021.  You can submit it here on tumblr, via the horror flora e-mail, or any other channel you know how to reach me through.  I’m in a lot of places.

THE GUIDELINES (TO HELP YOUR ENTRY FIT THE RULES AND WIN):

The smartest thing you could do if you want to win this contest is familiarize yourself with the world of ATOM by, y’know, reading all the material I’ve published on the subject.  In addition to the many kaiju files that are free to read on horrorflora.com, there are now TWO, count ‘em, TWO novels in this series for you to peruse, both of which establish many of the rules of the setting as well as its general themes and tone!  You can get them in either paperback or e-book formatting (I’d recommend the former over the latter since I lack the technology to make a really nice ebook, but if money is an object, the kindle version is only $1).  Here’s the links again if you missed them:

Vol. 1: Tyrantis Walks Among Us!

Vol. 2: Tyrantis Roams the Earth!

However, since I know reading a bunch of stuff is, y’know, not something everyone is inclined to do, I’ll jot some good bullet points for you in an attempt to outline how ATOM works in a brief, easily digested way:

ATOM is an homage to the monster fiction of the 1950’s and 60’s (i.e. the Atomic Age), and is set in those two decades, albeit an alternate universe version of them where, y’know, monsters and space aliens exist.  If you aren’t familiar with the monster fiction I’m referring to, there will be some reference material provided at the end of this post along with some recommendations for further research.

Kaiju/giant monsters in ATOM work under very specific rules.  There’s a full description of those rules at this link, but here’s the jist:

ATOM Kaiju are created created by the radiation of a mineral called Yamaneon, which naturally converts harmful radiation into its own unique energy.  In natural circumstances, it takes hundreds of years of exposure to Yamaneon radiation for a creature to become fully transform into a kaiju (luckily, Yamaneon radiation slows the aging process while speeding up the healing process).  However, an explosive burst of energy - such as the geothermal and kinetic energy released by an earthquake, or the blast of a nuclear weapon - can speed up the process, turning a normal animal into a kaiju within a matter of seconds.  

All ATOM kaiju can heal grievous wounds within minutes or even seconds, are supernaturally strong and durable, and can convert harmful radiation to harmless energy that they then feed off of.  Kaiju do not have an equivalent of old age, and can theoretically live forever (though their violent lifestyle means that few do).

ATOM Kaiju generally don’t need to eat unless they are severely injured, getting most of the energy they need from solar or geothermal radiation - but many still have instincts that drive them to seek out food from time to time.

Most ATOM kaiju stand roughly 100 feet tall (depending on their body shape), i.e. smaller than the original 1954 Godzilla.  There are exceptions to this rule - younger kaiju can be smaller, while exceedingly old kaiju can be significantly larger, but these are rare.

In general, ATOM kaiju are significantly more intelligent and emotionally complex than people expect animals to be, though most are incapable of speech or complex tool use.  There’s a reason ATOM Kaiju Files have a “personality” section.

Most ATOM Kaiju are tooth and claw fighters - ranged weapons are a rarity in this setting.

While the terrestrial monsters in ATOM look strange, they are intended to fit within the taxonomy of animals in reality - reptiles, mammals, fish, arthropods, molluscs, etc.

ATOM’s mesozoic era was dominated by a fictional clade of crocodile-relatives called retrosaurs, which are based on the outdated paleoart that one would find in the 1950’s/60’s fiction - i.e. when dinosaurs were viewed as trail dragging lizards instead of strange birds.  You can learn more about retrosaurs here (https://horrorflora.com/2016/11/15/atom-kaiju-file-bonus-a-guide-to-retrosaurs/).

Kaiju appear on every continent in ATOM, but certain areas tend to be dominated by different types.

North America is mainly besieged by retrosaur kaiju and giant arthropods.

East Asia is technically also mainly plagued by retrosaurs and big arthropods, though they tend to look more fantastical and mythic - and, often, oddly well suited to being portrayed by a person wearing a monster suit.

Russia is beset by prehistoric monsters that seem to come from the Cenozoic, particularly the Ice Age.

Western Europe is plagued by creatures that vaguely resemble creatures from myth, if they were also prehistoric.  Dragon-y lizards, fiery birds, etc.

Towards the mid-way point of ATOM’s timeline, earth is invaded by a coalition of aliens from different solar systems called the Beyonder Alliance, and as a result a bunch of alien monsters can be found on earth.

Mars and Venus both host (or hosted in Mars’s case) animal life.  The surviving Martians colonized Venus, and sent some of their kaiju guardians to earth to help us fend off the Beyonders (who are responsible for the destruction of Mars’s ecosystem).  Martian and Venusian kaiju have specific anatomical quirks, which you can see by looking at these kaiju files:

Venusians:

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/03/atom-kaiju-file-29-karamtor/

Martians:

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-39-kemlasulla/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-40-podritak/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-41-sombarvot/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-38-ullawdra/

Giant robots exist in ATOM, but are big, bulky, and incredibly expensive.  Fancy beam weapons also exist, but are similarly clunky - there are no sleek, elegant machines in ATOM.

Since the fiction ATOM takes inspiration from was made at a time when interplanetary travel was only just beginning to be possible, its scope is significantly smaller than modern sci-fi.  Alternate universes/dimensions were pretty uncommon because the idea of alien planets still held a lot of wonder to it.  So, as a general rule, don’t try to go farther than the one galaxy.

ATOM is a setting for stories that are focused on humanity learning to coexist with monsters, rather than humanity destroying them.  A certain level of sympathy is put into almost every creature of its canon, even the ones that are meant to be villains.

REFERENCE MATERIAL

Here is a playlist of 1950′s monster movie trailers.  

Here is some reference material from various monster comics of the 50′s and 60′s. 

Good movies to track down to understand ATOM’s inspiration and tone include Ghidorah the 3 Headed Monster, Son of Godzilla, Destroy All Monsters, Them!, The Black Scorpion, 20 Million Miles to Earth, Gamera, The Giant Claw, and The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra.

And here’s the intro cutscenes for all the different giant monsters in the PS2 videogame War of the Monsters.

[hobicomeholla29]

Shatter - Part 1 - JHS

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Angst/ Romance/ Fluff in the future

Word Count:3.9k

Warnings: Mentions of death/Mentions of wars/Mentions(hints) of depression/Mourning

Rating: PG13

A/N: Hey! Hey! Before I get into anything else I first have to that all the beautiful who helped me with checkin, beta reading and giving me fantastic feedback in general! @sugaa-sugaaa​ @spicykoreantatertots​ @nottodayjjk​ Thank you so so much for your words of support and for pushing me through to deliver a good piece for everyone!

That being said, This is a 2 shot! Please look forward to part 2!

THIS IS A REPOST. Cuz it wasn’t showing up in the tags.

Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world, where humankind’s greed has lead planet earth to turn into a ball of dust, all Hoseok wants is a better and bright future, yet strong feelings and a positive mind doesn’t always cut it.

Masterlist

The early morning sky was filled with an eerie fog that threatened to smother anyone who didn’t wear the appropriate attire for being outdoors.

You stood straight; hands balled in tight fists. A mixture of emotions running through your body. Sadness, anger, helplessness, fear…

You were the only ones standing in the middle of the empty field, no one else daring to stand still and be surrounded by the suffocating drafts of air that carried large amounts of toxins –a consequence of humankind utilizing nuclear weapons in the past.

You remember stories being told about your ancestors taking long walks through lucious fields without sporting gas masks on their faces, just imagine enjoying the air in the atmosphere instead of fearing it.

Most parts of the beautiful earth that once existed were now wastelands, all thanks to what was called The Colossal War.

Civilization was anything but civilized after that, creating division and animosity between groups of people with different ideals.

Clans were created and with them the claiming of lands. Lands that provided resources for sustenance, yet the quick dwindling of resources and supplies made some clans selfish, refusing to barter with others and instead attempting to conquer their lands as well.

With bigger and stronger clans taking over the smaller and weaker ones, eventually only four major clans remained, the only exception being small factions that settled between the abandoned areas near the borders of each clan.

Some factions were harmless, only looking for a peaceful place to live, making them nomads, since they had to constantly move to avoid being forced to pledge to one of the four major clans. Others were rioters, ready to go against anything and anyone who posed a threat to their beliefs and wants.

During the long solars that came and went after The Colossal War, much had changed.

Technology, communication, transportation, settlements.

It had all changed, but you really couldn’t say it was all for good.

Technology had turned obsolete at a steady pace, leaving only a few gadgets that were still able to function without being saturated or losing signal without proper cell towers.

Most of them had been vandalized or burned to ashes, mostly to steal copper from the area.

The only remaining signal towers were those of glass recorders.

A glass recorder was the device that kept track of a person’s life.

Since The Colossal War in 3010, civil wars had been blowing up everywhere. Causing inconvenience in simple tasks like having troops return to a fallen soldier’s clan to inform their family about their passing.

A simple duty as this one might have worked back in 2020 but not in 3011.

If troops were sent back, they were at risk of running into an enemy faction and breaking into another battle.

Hence, in 3015, glass recorders were created.

A glass recorder was a device made out of bulletproof glass. Its interior was filled with cables and microchips that contained a person’s personal information, tracking and broadcasting an individual’s vital signs at all times. Constant long-ranged waves went from the glass recorder - to the signal towers around the globe - to the chip installed in the individual’s neck and back.

You could say its data sharing function was similar to the behaviour of olden times bluetooth connections, except that the only information it could send and receive was vital signs and  identification details.

Many tried hacking them, attempting to rob information from the device and using it for ulterior motives, however they are designed with an auto destruction mode in case of hacking or death and their towers were heavily protected by troops from each clan.

Usually their sizes were similar to that of an old cellphone.

On one side there’s a knob, remarkably similar to what DJs back in the day used on their mixing boards. It acted as a switch between the different modes the glass recorder could be set on, them being Vitals, Information and Hologram. And on the other side there was a touchscreen, where vitals could be read and holograms could be activated.

There was also an XBS dock entrance on one side of the device. It was mostly used by the law enforcers by transferring any new information about an individual from their archives to the glass recorder, whether it was good or bad.

All of that information, including marital status, first degree relatives, occupation, date of birth and allergies could be found on information mode.

On vitals, details were given about their current health status and the sound of their heartbeat could be played.

And finally on hologram mode, you could see a three-dimensional scale of the owner’s body, making it easier to check for injuries or if any internal damage had been taken.

Besides glass recorders, communication had jumped back to messaging via written letters or oral messages sent via a messenger.

Any vehicles that had existed on the face of earth, had been overhauled.

Updated to cater to the usage it now provided to the arid ground.

Motorcycles, cars, buses, trucks and ships, all modified.

Additional exhaust pipes, thicker tires, dust shields, dredging machinery, artillery and artillery holders, were examples of things you had seen being mounted on different transports, including aircrafts.

As for yourself, you lived in a colony that had been forced to be part of one of the major 4 clans, The Jeon Clan.

The Jeon clan was strong, the Jeon clan was powerful, the Jeon clan was feared, the Jeon clan was blinded by its greed, the Jeon clan stood above everyone and if you refused their ways, then you refused living.

That’s how your small clan ended up under their command.

It was common to hear stories as an infant about how the Jeon clan conquered. They always portrayed the glorious stories of how leader -Jeon the 1st-  had tirelessly battled large creatures and evil men to save small clans from their miserable lives, however in each capsule each family shared the story with their offspring as they remembered it best.

Meaning some stories were wonderful, while others were resentful memories and stories of how their clans had been forced to change their ways or how they had lost loved ones to the Jeon reign.

You were only 7 when it all happened.

You remember it so clearly, it felt like you were reliving it each time.

_

You stood in the middle of the large hangar, eyes searching left and right for your father.

Men and women ran all around, either towards shelter or towards the battle zone.

A military truck’s engine roared in the background, yet you couldn’t figure out which of the twenty something trucks near you had been brought to life.

You frantically ran in the opposite direction. You needed to find him, you needed to convince him not to go.

Running as fast as your short legs could take you, you tightly held on to the glass recorder in your hand.

Tears started prickling your eyes the longer it went without you being able to find him.

Two NSTV vehicles sped past you, swiftly followed by a caravan of men on choppers, armed to the teeth.

Luckily none of them seemed to be your father.

You were getting desperate.

All he had done was left a note on your bed with his glass recorder.

“My beautiful cyberflower, I love you so much. And because I love you, I must defend you. Papa might not be back for a while, but he will make sure that if he doesn’t come back at all, it is because he was able to create a better place for you to live in."

He promised he would never go, that he would stay no matter what.

That he wouldn’t do the same thing your mom did.

Leaving you behind was never the solution. You preferred having them both and figuring everything else out later than having none of them and still being lost.

Why was it so easy for them to leave you behind…?

You didn’t notice you had dropped to your knees, you didn’t notice the tears that cascaded from your face and you certainly didn’t notice how your mourning wail had halted all activities under the hangar.

All frozen in place, no one in the building could figure out why. How could the desperate cry of a child send shivers down their spine? How could it express without mistake, their inner thoughts and feelings.

They felt the grief and pain of having to put their lives on the line to give their loved ones a better future.

A future that should have been granted to them, but the Jeons thought differently.

Yet, your clearest memory from that day was the tight embrace that pulled you out of your dazed state.

The embrace that told you that even if everything didn’t turn out as you wanted, he would be there to walk you through it.

He would be there with that bright smile of his that cleared away all of your cloudy days.

_

A rundown metallic shed stood at a distance, it was probably used in the past by troops as a hideout, yet for several solars it had been a place you used for solace.

The location gave you a quiet place to think, a quiet place to run away to when everything got too hectic at the colony, a place to yell out of frustration. It was your place -even if it was on enemy’s territory.

However, today said shed felt smaller, its tall walls choking you, suppressing your lungs, no calm remained in it as the words that dropped from your lover’s mouth bounced from wall to wall. The echo made you feel like the words were mocking you by constantly repeating what he said.

"I must go, and you must stay.”

You knew you had heard word of people in the colony joining forces with others near you, to topple the Jeon clan.

Nonetheless, you figured it was just tittle-tattle.

Yet here you are standing in the middle of the building, right in front of your lover, who is spewing the same nonsense your father did so many solara ago.

"Is this a joke? ‘Cause I’m not laughing…"

You saw his hands clenched into fists in annoyance, he tried holding in his feelings, yet the frustrated sigh that left his lips sold him out quickly.

Deep down he knew you wouldn’t take the news lightly, that you would want to accompany him on this journey as well or avoid the whole thing in general. But if he let you, if you came along, his departure would have no meaning. He was leaving for you. He thought you would be more rational.That the conversation would last less than a fraction of a solar, but he stood corrected.

"I can’t stay here on my own. You can’t leave me just like that.” You were distraught. Your eyes searched for his, yet his gaze remained on the door you had used moments ago to enter the shed.

You needed to bring his mind back to you, to the present where you both still remained, you needed to keep him away from thoughts of the unknown future and the doom that could be.

Why was he trying to be person number three on your mourning list?

Your eyes remained on his, yet your fingers occupied themselves trying to find his glove-covered ones, the action making him look down at your entwined fingers.

His eyes seemed to soften at your actions and that alone helped you breathe easier. Deep down you knew that you had to stay back and wait for him, it would be the safest place for you, the colony was your home, but the news he dropped on you like a bucket of cold water had your common senses frozen.Why would he want to leave you so suddenly?

Maybe he no longer wanted this, maybe you were too much, maybe that promise he made solars ago about walking the path with you was too heavy and too much of a burden…

“You must stay, for me,” He said, “and for them.” His eyes dropped to your stomach, his free hand caressing the bump that had started forming not long ago.

“Hoseok…please…” You had to try at least one more time. If he still was that warrior at heart that you had once met, then he was certain to leave even with you crying rivers.

“I must go, my love. I have to be a part of this fight that will give our family the freedom that they deserve. The freedom that WE deserve.” His eyes glossed over, yet not one tear abandoned his eye. He was sure of his decision and nothing could stop him now.

“You don’t have to… A lot of men are already there."

"And I am sure they also have families and other reasons to be there. I will lend them a hand and they shall lend me one. We will fight for a better life and world, a better place to raise our offspring, a better place to grow old.” At this point in conversation, his eyes are boring into yours, yet there is no anger towards you. Only love, strong, heated, unwavering, caring and passionate love. There was certainly no way for you to fight against that.

For a split second, his eyes left yours, and you followed the movements of his left hand. Carefully, he pushed his hand into his pocket, retrieving a device that you were very familiar with.

His glass recorder.

“I- I can’t."

"It’s the only way for you to know my status… and if it ever comes to worse, you’ll know not to wait for me any longer.” He said as he placed it in your hand.

“Please stop talking like you are a dead man already!"

"Y/n-” You interrupted him mid-sentence. You were blabbing now. All your thoughts and fears spilling out at once.

“No! I don’t want to hear it! I don’t want you to go! I want you here with me, with our babies. If you tell the Chief he will let you stay. We are expecting! I can’t lose you; you are walking to your grav-"

"Y/N!” His sudden yell made you flinch, but nonetheless, you looked him in the eyes, only to find them filled with tears. Filled with fear but determination as well.

He was always like this, a young man with a mission. Fire in his eyes, determined to make this world a better place, even if it scared him to the core. He always said…

“There is no better way to deal with fear than to walk right over it…” Those stupid words he repeated everyday since you were 7. “This is me walking all over it. This is me putting you -putting them over my fear of what may be."

"I love you."

"And I love you, my beautiful cyberflower.” His hand grabbed yours, slowly bringing each one of them to his face and kissing your knuckles and palms softly.

“I’ll always return to you."

And so, you watched him ride his chopper towards the horizon.

His silhouette quickly disappeared in the darkness of the night.

Even though the light of the moon shone brightly, it felt dark around you, as if your clouds had returned with the sole departure of his bright smile.

Your hand squeezed the device he left behind, your grip getting stronger the further he drove and now you really wondered, "How is it so easy for everyone to leave me behind?"

150 solars and 149 lunars went by, yet nothing had changed.

Since the day Hoseok had left, your days consisted of nothing but worrying, eating, and visiting the shed.

An old steel bench was set outside of the old metallic building and just like any other day you’d visited, you sat on the edge of it, contemplating life and hoping today was the day Hoseok would return to you as he had promised.

As time flew by, you added this day to the list of other ones where your lover didn’t return and although you tried to remain as positive as possible, you couldn’t stop thinking about why life was so cruel? Why did any of you have to live through this? It certainly wasn’t fair. No one deserved to be forced to choose death if they didn’t choose what someone else wanted.

Since your great-grandparents’ days, the future was supposed to be glorious, beautiful, and bright. Technology was supposed to make everything better. But somehow it all turned to worse.

Pride, arrogance, and selfishness had created the horrible world that you now lived in.

People lost their lives as an exchange for a promise they never received.

They fought battles to free people who were slaves to their own fears and now this was the consequence of all that was done. What a sad life to live. What a horrible life to live.

You rubbed your stomach feeling your bump as it continued to grow. Time doesn’t stop for anyone, is what they say and your clear example is how close you are to being due.

The walk back to your clan’s colony was an easy 10-minute walk that could turn mortal if taken while distracted, hence you carried a machete in your boot.

Once you set foot on your colony’s official territory, you swiftly made your way to your family home capsule, ready to wash off the sorrow and go to bed as you would wait for the next solar to come.

Sadly for you, that hope disappeared the second you made eye contact with someone you didn’t wish to see at the moment.

His eyes caught yours and you saw a mix of emotions: sorrow, understanding, relief and worry, all conveyed to you in a single glance.

You knew what was to come, it was always the same dialogue, but you didn’t want to do this today.

Today you felt drowned, disappointed, you could feel that dark cloud that loomed over your head enlarging day by day.

"You know it’s not s—”

“Save it, Namjoon. I’m not a chil—"

“—But you are a carrying woman, who is walking carelessly to a place where no one can or will follow you.”

“I am not carele—”

“Y/N, shut up for once and put this through your thick skull!! Hendra is enemy territory!!”

And with that he left to his own family capsule, stomping all the way to the door and slamming it closed.

For the first time, you felt different and maybe it had something to do with the fact that Namjoon and your argument didn’t end in the usual monotonous sermon he always gave you, where he remained calm all the way and you rolled your eyes in annoyance.

The funny part about the entire thing was that you were cousins, and your family capsules were right beside each other, so you were sure you’d have to see his sour expression the following day.

Finally in your own capsule - the one you used to share with Hoseok, you took that shower that you daydreamed about and headed to your room.

Just like every night, you muted your room to the outside world, opting to listen to the broadcast of your beloved’s heartbeat.

It was the only thing that helped you sleep at night and somehow you felt as if it pacified the two progenies in you.

You didn’t know when or how it happened, but eventually 365 solars had gone by.

365 solars since the day of his departure and you weren’t getting any better at being without him.

You were now a mother of two. A dawn and a dusk. One born in the early morning and one almost 12 hours later.

So, you gave them names that matched their arrivals to this world, Dawn and Dusk.

All times prior to that day, you felt that once they arrived, there would be this large turning point in your life. That once you had someone who depended on you, your days would start to shift into something brighter, yet somehow, even after the arrival of your children, you felt almost no difference, bordering on saying that you might even felt worse.

Their faces were the perfect mix of your deoxyribonucleic acid and his. Two different beings creating harmony in the body of two newer ones.

Their father had left to give them a better future but, in the process, he had left a broken family behind. It felt incomplete and hollow and somehow you envied the blissful ignorance that your infants currently lived in. Not able to understand the sorrowful life that currently surrounded them.

Another 365 solars went by.

You still listened to Hoseok’s heartbeats every night. The glass recorder remaining as your sole companion in addition to your —now— toddlers.

The night remained quiet. You could barely hear the murmur of voices from the capsule near yours. If you were right, you were sure it was Namjoon and his wife, discussing the plan for retrieving meals for the clan the following morning.

You shifted on the foam mattress that only reminded you more of him. A very faint and almost gone notion of his scent wafting up from what used to be his pillow.

From afar you watched the two small bodies –lying on the second mattress in your room— inhale and exhale deep in their slumber.

They had —just like you— fallen asleep to the beat of the heart of a stranger you placed in front of them and made them call him father.

You loved them, every bit of them. Would do anything for them not to suffer, and maybe just then, in that moment, you understood a bit of Hoseok’s reasoning.

You toss and turn all of a sudden jerking awake from your slumber. You could not recall when you had fallen asleep, so your mind remained disoriented for a short minute, trying to grasp your surroundings. Your heavy eyes roamed around the room, picking up on every detail, the babies were still asleep, the clock read 3AM and the glass recorder wasn’t beating…

THE GLASS RECORDER WASN’T BEATING!

Violently, you pulled the sheets off your body, grabbing the device as soon as your hands were close enough to grab it.

“Why are you not beating? Why are you not broadcasting? What the fu—”

And it hit you like a train… but you didn’t believe it, you couldn’t believe it.

You shook it and twisted the knob and switched it to hologram mode, but it wasn’t working and you didn’t know what to do, your hands were shaking, your thoughts were jumbled…

“This can’t be happening.”

And when a fake solar illuminated your mind, you quickly turned around to plug it in to your old computer, however, the universe had other plans for you and without announcement the device cracked.

You watched it crack little by little, extending all around the recorder, slowly marking the beautiful device with horrible lines that marked its ending, it didn’t stop until it was no longer graspable and all that was left behind was crystal dust in your cupped hands.

You didn’t hear when Namjoon and his wife entered your room or when your kids were taken out of there. Your sobs alerting 3 capsules nearby of the sorrowful occurrence of the night.

It was the worst type of Deja Vu, because just like your mother and father, you’d never see him again…

“Hoseok…”  

Thank you so much for reading part one of this 2 shot! Hopefully it didn’t scare you off for part 2!

[aion-rsa]

Marissa Meyer Reflects on Her Iconic Lunar Chronicles Series

https://ift.tt/2SiCNtY

New editions of The Lunar Chronicles has author Marissa Meyer looking back on inventive cosplay and forward to new fairy tale retellings.

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Upon glimpsing the dynamic covers for the new paperback editions of Marissa Meyer’s reimagined fairy tale series The Lunar Chronicles, one can’t help but notice there’s something familiar about them—especially the gorgeous stepbacks that feature Cinder in a ballgown and Cress staring wistfully in the opposite direction of the strapping Thorne, silhouetted by moonlight. They bring to mind… Sailor Moon.

Meyer laughs when this comparison is brought up, considering her background as a Sailor Moon fanfiction writer, but says that it was not intentional: “I think that’s just Tomer [Hanuka]’s style.” However, when her publisher Macmillan sent along the artist’s portfolio, she was certainly struck by Hanuka’s work.

“I think that’s one of the reasons why I was so drawn to him," says Meyer. "Because it does have a little bit of that Japanese/manga vibe to it, which I love. And coming from that fandom and that background, there’s definitely a lot of influence in the books. So, I think that it plays really well; the artwork very much complements the series in a great way.”

While The Lunar Chronicles concluded with its fourth and final novel, Winter, in 2015, fans have been able to spend more time in Meyer’s science fiction fairy tale universe with subsequent releases including the short fiction collection Stars Above and the graphic novel Wires and Nerve.

Now, a re-release of the original quartet with brand-new covers showcasing each of the key characters proves that the series is still relevant to readers today. To wit, part of the new covers process involved crowdsourcing favorite scenes from the active and enthusiastic fandom via Instagram. Meyer describes seeing the same scenes suggested over and over, which made their way into the new designs: Wolf spiriting Scarlet away from danger. Winter and Jacin in a romantic clinch in her menagerie.

read more: Marissa Meyer's Renegades Trilogy is Riveting Superhero Fiction

It’s quite the departure from the original covers, each of which featured one key element from its respective book: Cinder’s mechanical leg (in place of Cinderella’s glass slipper); Scarlet’s (or Little Red Riding Hood’s) cape; Cress’ Rapunzel-esque hair; and Winter’s plague-laced apple. While the series has long been celebrated for centering the stories of princesses of color—Cinder is Asian/Caucasian, while Winter is black—and for its representation of mental illness, now those women are actually on the covers in the (human and cyborg) flesh.

“They’re so beautiful and so vibrant,” Meyer says. “I love what [Tomer] does with colors, and so when you see all four of them together, it just stands out so much. I couldn’t be any happier with them.”

That said, this is not the first time that the series has been illustrated. In addition to the aforementioned Wires and Nerve, there is also The Lunar Chronicles Coloring Book. While most authors do not experience the opportunity to see their work adapted thusly, let alone three, Meyer says it feels “incredible,” though she hastens to add that there is a fourth lens: fan art!

“It’s unbelievable to think about these characters and this world that lived inside my head for so many years, and then to see other people putting their interpretation behind it,” she says. “And in a way that there’s such wonderful justice to it, and [that] really captures the same sorts of emotions that I was trying to put into my writing. It’s just like one giant compliment. There’s nothing quite like it!”

Recent years have seen more and more science fiction and fantasy authors talking candidly about their fanfiction backgrounds, including N.K. Jemisin (the Broken Earth series), Naomi Novik (Spinning Silver), Tamsyn Muir (Gideon the Ninth), Tochi Onyebuchi (Riot Baby), and Brooke Bolander (The Only Harmless Great Thing). But Meyer has always drawn a line connecting her professional work and her fanfic persona, Alicia Blade, as seen on her old website via the Wayback Machine. It’s no surprise, then, that Lunar Chronicles fan art and fanfiction began cropping up online not long after Cinder was published in 2012.

read more: Den of Geek Book Club Podcast Talks with Marissa Meyer

“That’s the fantasy,” Meyer says, “for there to be fanfic of your own work, because I know what love goes into creating fanfiction, and how fandoms can really rally around it.” And how must that feel for a former fanfiction writer? 

“It’s a little weird, honestly! But it’s wonderful, and I’m hugely honored to know there are so many people who have taken the characters and gone off and done their own things with them.”

Early on, Meyer had to decide whether she would actually read the stories on Fanfiction.net and the Archive of Our Own (AO3). Despite her burning curiosity, she considered that “if Naoko Takeuchi, the creator of Sailor Moon, regularly went on and read Sailor Moon fanfiction, I think that that might have changed what I was writing and what I was putting out there. And so early on I decided, ‘No, I want that to be for the fans; I don’t think I should be involved in that side of it.’ But knowing that it exists brings me much, much joy.”

Another way in which The Lunar Chronicles’ heroines have made their way into the world has been through cosplay, which Meyer describes as “one of my greatest pleasures” to see at conventions. One group costume that stands out in her memory is a quartet of women in ballgowns representing the albino wolf, peacock, and other animals in Winter’s menagerie on Luna: “It was this amalgamation of ballgowns and formalwear on Luna, but also the animals of the menagerie, and I just thought it was so clever.”

In addition to fanfiction, Meyer is an alum of another online-centric writing community: National Novel Writing Month. Cinder and four subsequent books began as NaNoWriMo projects, but the life of an author has made it more difficult for Meyer to time drafting to every November. When asked if she might participate this year, she says, “I hope so! I haven’t been able to do it for the last couple of years; it never seems to line up with my deadlines anymore. [...] It’s a tradition for me, and one I would love to continue. I can’t say for sure if I’m doing it this year or not; but if I can make it work, then I definitely will.”

However, Meyer fans who are considering undertaking NaNoWriMo themselves will have to juggle a tempting distraction this November: Instant Karma, her contemporary romance novel with a magical twist, will be published November 3. Meyer describes the story, the first in a planned four-book series, as “about a girl who lives in a sunny, beachside town and one day inexplicably gets the power to exact instant karma on people. And she goes around punishing all of the snobs and the bullies and the people that she can’t stand. There’s one boy that she absolutely despises, but every time she tries to use this power on him, it ends up backfiring on her. It will be a love story and secrets will be revealed, etcetera etcetera.”

On her Alicia Blade website sometime before 2012, Meyer described herself as “beloved Sailor Moon fanfiction author and future romance novelist.” While each of the Lunar Chronicles books featured romance, there is something exciting about seeing her fulfill that description with her first romance novel. “It’s been a big change from my previous works,” she says, pointing out that “this is the first thing I’ve written that doesn’t have huge superpowers or futuristic technology. There are no fight scenes! Which is awesome. [...] It’s been really nice now writing something that still has romance, still has a theme of good versus evil and what is true justice, and all of these same sort of themes I like to play with, but in a much more subtle, quiet, sweet sort of way.”

But while she expands the Instant Karma world with contemporary happily ever afters, she won’t stay away from fairy tales for long. Meyer teased a new fairy tale retelling—and while she couldn’t say which story she’s adapting, she did share that it will be an epic fantasy what-if story...

“It is going to be fantasy—kinda my first ‘quest’ fantasy novel, which I’m super excited about because growing up, Tolkien and epic fantasy and Dungeons & Dragons—all of that was my jam. It was always weird to me that my first published book was science fiction, because I thought for sure I would write an epic quest story. So this is kinda my first [of] going back to my teenage roots a bit.” The book is tentatively scheduled for fall 2021, though that timing may be subject to change.

Even as she explores new genres and stories, Meyer will never forget the idea that first set her on this path. “I have so much love for this series,” she says, “and not just because it was my first series. I think for every author, the first one you get published is always going to feel really special. From the moment that I had this idea about writing about fairy tales in the future, and this cyborg Cinderella character, I was just so smitten with it, and I loved the idea of bringing all these characters together and throwing them on a spaceship and seeing if they could save the universe."

"That spoke to my heart and to my nerdiness on so many levels," she continues, "and I just had so much fun writing it. To see it now in the world, and see how readers have responded to it, and that there’s so much love and interest in the characters, it’s really been incredible. And of course I hope to have many more successful book series throughout my career, but I don’t know that there will ever be anything that’s quite the books-of-my-heart as The Lunar Chronicles have been.”

Close to a decade since Cinder was published, with a dedicated fandom returning to the books over and over, Meyer has one hope for the legacy of the series.

“Gosh, it’s so cheesy—I’m gonna say world peace,” she says. “That’s one of the things that I loved writing, was a world in which Earth and the countries of Earth have obtained world peace, and they have been at peace for over a century. I don’t know if it’s naïve, but I truly like to think that that is a potential future.”

The new, gorgeous paperback editions of The Lunar Chronicles will be available for purchase on February 4th. You can order them now via the official website.

As a former fanfiction writer herself, Natalie Zutter is mightily inspired to finish all of her WIPs. Talk fairy tale retellings with her on Twitter @nataliezutter.

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Feature Natalie Zutter

Feb 3, 2020

from Books https://ift.tt/36ZmNmg

[livingthedragonlife]

Gray

fandom: overwatch

series: zenyatta appreciation week 2018

warnings: n/a

words: 3824

summary: Zenyatta did not always have the idea to go out into the world, seeking souls to comfort. Everyone has a beginning, even in the darkest of times.

[ao3]

Though the universe exists in a multitude of magnificent colors, Zenyatta had always appreciated gray. Of course, it wasn’t the most aesthetically pleasing – it was even called dull – but the Shambali monk had always found it fascinating. It wasn’t just representative of desaturation and boredom, but choice, and compromise. Where black and white existed, there was always a gray – a middle ground. Different, countless shades of gray, the moral compass in tangible form. Not a single shade was ever on accident, or the same. All of them were different. So, so very different.

Differences were, after all, what made existing so interesting the first place. Zenyatta always marveled at the countless number of possibilities available to him at all times, for any and every situation, from one extreme to the other, and every shade of gray in between. All good, all bad, all neither, all both. Though, of course, all of them were subjective.

However, the shade of dark gray that colored the Omnic Crisis was the worst shade, in Zenyatta’s personal, subjective opinion. Regretfully, darkness, death, and violence all served a purpose in the world, no matter how vile. On the scale of black and white, that went to every extreme, the shades of gray between them would allow for violence, in almost every case. In the case of the Omnic Crisis, it was the deepest shade of gray possible without becoming completely black. It was the darkest gray, plunging down into the depths, not quite reaching the extreme, but only just.

Purely subjectively, of course.

The Omnic Crisis, in Zenyatta’s opinion, was horrifyingly dark gray from anyone’s perspective. From the omnics made before the Crisis, forced first to serve humans, and forced again to fight a war they had no say in, sent only to die for the wills of the God AIs, screaming against the programming that infected them, and then screaming as they died. From the omnics churned out from the omniums during the Crisis, the ones that knew no other world than living, fighting, and dying. From the citizens, watching their servants turn against them in their own homes without warning, dying by the masses, for no better reason than their harmless technology turned against them. From the soldiers that faced near-impenetrable machines, things that felt no fear, no pain, and no mercy, getting sent on missions that they knew they wouldn’t be retuning from. From the injured, dead, and dying that littered the battlefields for days, weeks, and months, and ones that still remained.

Subjectively, the Omnic Crisis was the worst shade of gray that could ever exist.

Zenyatta, at the time of the Crisis, was a young omnic, one of the hundreds of thousands built only to serve the Gods AIs. He was cannon fodder and he knew it, knowing no other life out of being expendable. Every day, he marched out of the omnium, to fight the humans as he was told, and accepting completely that it was statistically likely (78.97% according to his processor) that he would not survive. His whole life had been fighting. He had never known anything else. There was no gray in his life – only black and white. He was either fighting or he wasn’t.

When the Crisis finally ended, and he was released from the God AIs’ control he didn’t know what to do with himself. He had no more instructions, no more compulsion to fight, and no reason for it either. It was unsettling, having no reason to exist. His entire purpose had been to fight, and now he no longer had to fight. So what else could he do? He had no purpose, and nowhere to go. There was no rehabilitation for omnic survivors of the Omnic Crisis. A war that, from the perspective of humans, the omnics had caused in the first place.

His world filled with gray very quickly, after his epiphany. His black and white became muddled and mixed together. He was either fighting or he wasn’t, true. But he was also travelling, trying to find other omnics from his unit, or any unit. He was stumbling upon many humans and their cities, running away or fighting back when they threatened violence. He was either fighting, searching, or trying to survive. His life was filled with dark shades of gray, and not much else.

One day, he came across a cluster of humans, hidden deep in the Himalayas, that didn’t immediately treat him with vitriol. In fact, they welcomed him, and there the poor, lost omnic finally found others. The human village had been harboring omnics like him – ones that had failed to find a purpose after they were released by the God AIs. After all, they were created to receive orders, and nothing else. It was in their nature to be black and white. Without instructions, orders, or control, they were lost in an overwhelming, endless world of gray.

But there was an omnic in the village who embraced the gray. He spoke loudly and with confidence, and chose a name for himself like a human, instead of introducing himself with a serial number. His name was Mondatta, and he preached a shade of gray that none of the omnics -- or humans for that matter -- had ever considered.

Mondatta claimed that everyone, omnics and humans alike, had souls. He spoke of the Iris, the embodiment of all the universe, the place where their fallen brethren’s souls ascended to, and the humans’ souls as well. He spoke of enlightenment to communicate with the Iris and draw from its power. He spoke of reaching out to the humans and teaching them that omnics were not evil, and were just a much the victims of the Crisis as they were.

Mondatta’s most dedicated follower, and soon, closest friend, enthusiastically committed himself to the cause, and took the name Zenyatta and encouraged the other omnics to do the same. Many of them did, and moved higher up the mountain to the abandoned temple, cleaning it out, and repairing it enough to be livable, by both omnic and human standards. Some of the omnics didn’t share their philosophy, and moved on to other places, searching for the gray that suited them. The omnics that called themselves the Shambali monks let them go, sending them off with well-wishes and blessings. And then they got to work.

Zenyatta loved living among the other monks, omnics who believed in peace between omnics and humans in a world that thought it impossible. The humans in the village gave him a similar comfort – a reminder that their cause was not hopeless. The shade of gray he found himself living in was coming out of the darkness and reaching for the light. He was full of optimism, and almost thought the mission of the Shambali would be easy. People who had been damaged by war were sure to reject them initially, of course, but after taking time to learn, how could they not accept those who wanted nothing more than to co-exist peacefully, and live side-by-side.

Zenyatta learned rather quickly of other, less comforting, shades of gray.

Occasionally, when Mondatta deemed it appropriate - as the Shambali had turned to him as the de facto leader -  lead the monks to human cities, where they would speak for crowds of humans and spread their message (always with an easy escape, just in case). More often than not, their speeches would end with jeering, booing, and slurs – and other times they wouldn’t even be able to finish. Things would be thrown at them, everything from rocks, to fruit, to furniture, until they left - by force or by choice. If they didn’t leave as quickly as the humans wanted to, weapons were brandished, threats were made, and law enforcement called. In the best situations, they were chased out, dented, but not beyond repair. In gray situations, they were arrested, or more severely damaged. In the worst situations, there were casualties. Usually on the side of the Shambali.

Zenyatta never expected to have to fight for his life again – never wanted to fight for his life again. He’d had enough of war, and death, and bloodshed. It brought back to many memories, too many dark grays that muddled his light grays, or blocked them out entirely. Sometimes, he forgot he was in a warzone. He felt defenseless, naked, exposed. Helpless.

Meditation helped. Prayer helped. Mondatta helped. The other monks helped. But it wasn’t enough. He hated feeling like he couldn’t protect himself, or his friends. He hated feeling defenseless in the face of such blatant threats against his life, and the other monks’. Zenyatta was wholeheartedly against any kind of fighting or violence. He did not want more deaths to come of their cause, but he became increasingly convinced that more and more Shambali would die if they remained defenseless.

The more Zenyatta considered it, the more it made sense. Fighting, not out of malice, but out of survival, was the only way the Shambali could survive long enough to spread their message. To be prepared, in case of emergency only, to protect themselves against the inevitable riot. He saw the gray between the black and white. A middle ground – not a perfect solution. But, as he’d learned, there were no perfect solutions.

Mondatta was less inclined to see Zenyatta’s point of view. He didn’t want to use fighting of any kind when it came to spreading the Shambali’s message, because, he often repeated, “Fighting with people will not convince them of our cause, Brother.”

But Zenyatta, regardless, argued with his leader. “If those who we are trying to teach are threatening our lives, then I am sure they do not wish to hear more of our beliefs. They might even rejoice at the sight of us being unarmed and unable to defend ourselves.”

Mondatta did not appreciate Zenyatta’s attempt at dark humor, nor did he appreciate his brother’s idea for the fifth time in the same week.

In the end, Zenyatta took the gray upon himself, alone. He built his orbs from spare parts of omnics, nanomachines, and biotic fields. He launched energy through his weapons, aided his with allies healing warmth, and damaged his enemies with unholy energy. He taught himself martial arts, and included it in his morning routine. Sparring alone was not as useful as with a partner, but it was better than nothing, especially because the other monks followed in Mondatta’s footsteps. It was irritating to be ignored, but he let them be.

Everyone had their own shade of gray in the temple, and Zenyatta respected that. Some monks hated him for what he did, some simply ignored him. There were even some that agreed with Zenyatta, but didn’t dare to defy Mondatta so blatantly. The leader himself was none too thrilled with Zenyatta’s practices, but he had learned long ago that trying to control his brother was akin to trying to control the weather -- nigh impossible.

It was only after one of their speeches was finished early by humans that were turning violent that Zenyatta’s idea was truly recognized, as he saved them all without losing a single life – human or omnic.

“Perhaps,” Mondatta conceded, after they had gotten to safety, “there is some merit to self-defense.”

Zenyatta failed when he tried not to be smug.

Understandably, not all of the monks were as eager to embrace self-defense training as readily as they had accepted the Iris. They were very fixed in their personal shades of gray.

So, Zenyatta started small. He trained a small group of monks who were willing to learn self-defense from him. Over time, his groups grew larger, but not in any significant capacity. There were some who simply did not believe that fighting was necessary. Others were veterans of the Omnic Crisis, and didn’t want to see any more violence if they could help it. There were no (explosive) argument, but Mondatta always made sure to bring at least two omnics that knew how to fight when the monks travelled for speeches.

As time went on, the Shambali Temple was surprised to see people – both human and omnic – approaching them instead. In the case of an omnic visitor, searching for a safe place to stay, or to convert, and become members of the Shambali themselves. In the case of humans, it was usually to understand the movement, a task that every monk in the temple enthusiastically agreed to assist with, or to visit an omnic friend that had become a monk. Sometimes there was the odd human that passed through only to vandalize or spew hate speech, but those were few and far between. In all, the visitors they received were of a wide spectrum of gray. Some lighter, some darker, but all the monks were happy to welcome, assist, and teach.

However, there were even shades of gray to that.

Zenyatta did not like the methods of the Shambali. Though he would often to rephrase it a little more gently, he simply did not agree with the way that Mondatta ran things. He could appreciate the way the monks dedicated themselves to the message of the Iris, and peace between humans and omnics. They used traditional methods of peaceful resistance, very deliberately similar to popular human civil rights leaders. Their ultimate goal to bring positive connotations to the Shambali, and therefore, their movement, thus having it more widely recognized, and more universally accepted as fact. Their peace talks were broadcasted widely across the world, and hundreds came to hear Mondatta speak in person – especially in the later years. That was the light gray.

The dark gray was that they weren’t getting anything done, in Zenyatta’s eyes at the very least. Those that rallied to speeches, marches, and watched their broadcasts were fantastic assets to the Shambali, and to omnic rights in general, but they were those who were already committed to omnic rights, before they’d even heard of the Shambali monks. They were not being convinced, their minds were not being changed. Those that disagreed with the Shambali – the very people the Shambali were aiming to teach – would not willingly show up to rallies or speeches for movements they opposed. And so, their movement remained stagnant – a fairly deep pool with very little spread.

The Shambali were talking to groups and not people. People did not respond to dogmatic teachings and lectures. People did not respond to being told their values and beliefs are wrong, and others’ values are the true path of righteousness. It gave the impression of lording over others, a holier-than-thou sensibility, and people simply did not respond to such forceful methods, no matter the intention.

Zenyatta tried for weeks to think of a better solution, a more effective way of reaching people, but to no avail. He would often avoid hibernation for it, and run his processors until they overheated, and nearly burned out. He’d started to worry Mondatta, who could tell his brother was dodging rest in favor of “thinking too much.” He was content to listen to Zenyatta’s excuses about “thinking too much” until his processors actually burned out, whereupon Mondatta explosively insisted that Zenyatta get his core computer checked for malfunctioning fans or permanent damage from overworking.

Zenyatta maintained his stance. “I am fine, Brother,” he said, trying to pacify his brother. “I’ve simply had a lot on my mind as of late.”

The leader of the Shambali wasn’t having it. He fretted and fussed like a mother hen until Zenyatta relented, if only to give his brother some peace of mind.

He was flown to one of their contacts in King’s Row, a human technician who had proved sympathetic to omnics, and had often provided spare parts and check-ups for omnics, including members of the Shambali. Despite the fact that London was a city known for cruelty for omnics, Mondatta was confident Zenyatta could handle himself if things got messy, and their contact wasn’t unable to defend herself either.

It was on the way back from the check-up – from which the conclusion showed everything was in working order, as Zenyatta had predicted – that he heard a frustrated curse further down the street, and the tell-tale thumping of heavy objects hitting the pavement.

He turned a corner to find a middle-aged human man hunched over a torn back of groceries. Foodstuffs littered the street, nothing torn or broken, but scattered across the concrete. A can of beans rolled its way down sidewalk, stopping at the omnic’s foot.

Zenyatta picked up the can and looked down the street. People rushed past the poor man, omnics especially giving the man a wide berth, some even glancing back at the monk and shaking their head at him. The man looked as if he was parting a sea of people, even as he bent down with his two unbroken bags of groceries, picking up can after can, bag after bag.

Despite the warnings, Zenyatta marched determinedly towards the man. He completely accepted any consequences of his actions. And was capable of defending himself from them.

“Are you in need of assistance?” he asked, holding out the can.

The man swore loudly, and scrambled to his feet. He didn’t take the can.

“Get the hell away from me,” he hissed, pointing at the monk accusatorially. His eyes were wide with rage and fear. “I don’t need any help you can give me.”

“Are you certain? You’ve dropped a lot of –”

“I said to get the fuck away! You miserable bots have already taken enough from me.”

The human waved his arms as if to shoo Zenyatta off, but the monk didn’t budge. Instead, he set the can down on the ground, and folded his hands in front of him. “I am sorry for whomever you lost,” he said, genuinely sorry. “The omnics that I know regret much from the Crisis. Would you accept my help as a gesture of goodwill?”

The man went very still. His eyes flicked from Zenyatta to the can, to his own shaking hands. His mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water. The monk considered walking away, but something in him convinced him to stay. Something told him this was the right thing to do.

“I…” the man finally said. “Sure. Just don’t try anything.”

Zenyatta nodded, and without another word, bent down to start collecting the fallen groceries, stacking them to the side in a neat pile. The man, on the other hand, watched the omnic for several long, tense seconds before deciding to bend down and start forming his own pile. He constantly glanced up from the ground and the food to stare at Zenyatta intensely, like he was waiting for an attack at any moment.

The Omnic Crisis truly left behind the darkest gray of them all. Zenyatta felt that, if he possessed a heart, it would have been breaking.

Minutes of silence passed as the two picked up the groceries. They had silently divided the sidewalk between themselves, and created their piles on either side of the invisible line. Zenyatta didn’t cross the boundary, and the man never crossed it either. When Zenyatta had picked up everything on his side of the line, and the man had almost finished as well, he decided to speak.

“I lost friends in the Omnic Crisis as well,” he said, and it was true. Though the God AIs made them little more than puppets, every unit was connected to one network, and could all interact with each other. Every omnic from his unit that was lost felt like losing a part of himself. “It took many lives on both sides. I regret my part in it.”

“You what?” the man asked.

“I regret my –”

“No, no, the other thing. You lost friends?”

“Perhaps not in the way humans think of them, but yes. We all did.”

“I didn’t know omnics could have – well, I mean, I know you can all make friends,” the human sputtered, “but I just didn’t know. With the God AIs and all that bullshit, it’s...” He waved his hands around his head, as if that would prove his point.

Zenyatta almost laughed, but thought it might be a bit tasteless. “It’s surprising to hear?”

“Something like that.”

The human pulled an unbroken bag from behind him and started putting away his pile next to the other two unbroken bags. Zenyatta sat where he was, not wanting to cross their invisible boundary, patiently waiting for the bag to be passed his way.

To his surprise, the human waved him over silently, not looking up from his work. The omnic, silently gleeful, picked up a little bit of his stack at a time, and set it down next to the man, so he could put it away as he pleased. In any other situation, he would have used his orbs to push the rest of the stack behind him, so he wouldn’t have to make two trips, but decided against it, for the man’s sake. Regardless, it was minimal labor, and he was more than willing to sacrifice his convenience for another’s trust.

They were both silent until the bag was full. This time, the human spoke first.

“I lost my sister,” he said, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “She was in my regiment. I couldn’t get over to her fast enough when the shield went down, and she…” He motioned with his hand like he was brushing something out of the air.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Zenyatta offered, knowing it would do little. Iris, rest her soul, he added to himself.

“Yeah, me too. She didn’t deserve it.”

“Nobody deserves such a fate.”

The man said nothing. The omnic said nothing. Perhaps there was nothing to say.

After a moment, the man stood up, carrying one bag in each arm, and letting Zenyatta carry the third, the one they had filled together. The man led him down the street a for a short time to an apartment building. He set down his bags, fished a keyring from his pocket, and unlocked the door. Zenyatta set down the bag he carried on the steps next to the other two, and had only just turned around when he heard –

“Wait.”

The omnic turned back around to see the man extending a hand toward him.

“Thank you,” the man said.

Zenyatta shook the man’s hand gladly. “The pleasure is mine.”

The man nodded, as if he’d expected that answer all along, then opened the door to his apartment, and carried the groceries inside.

Zenyatta went on his way, back to the airport, back to the Shambali, pouring over another shade of gray. The gray between human and omnic, war and peace, friend and enemy. The gray between two people who had more in common than expected. Compromise, common ground, individuals instead of ideals.

And then he had an idea.

[myupdatestudio-blog]

New Post has been published on Myupdatestudio

New Post has been published on https://myupdatestudio.com/senate-republicans-just-voted-to-kill-net-privateness/

SENATE REPUBLICANS Just VOTED TO KILL Net Privateness

From fitness-care coverage to environmental protections, Republicans are shifting quickly to erase Barack Obama’s presidential legacy. The state-of-the-art Obama-era coverage to be rolled back are tips shielding patron Internet Privacy. Closing year, the Federal Communications Fee, below the route of former Democratic chairman Tom Wheeler, mandated that broadband companies get their clients’ permission before promoting or giving their data to advertisers and different third parties. On Thursday, the Senate voted alongside party lines, 50-forty eight, to scrap the ones Privateness guidelines, making it easier for broadband vendors to percentage browsing history statistics approximately their customers.

Net agencies, like Facebook and Google, and Internet service vendors, like Verizon and AT&T, are likely pleased with the choice. The Obama-technology F.C.C. The ruling of Last October turned into broadly disliked with the aid of industry leaders, and less purple tape would make it simpler for corporations to apply customers’ surfing records to assist goal greater advertisements. Cutting-edge F.C.C. regulations allow Internet sites to track your behavior and promote information approximately you to add concentrated on companies, however Net service companies, under the Obama-technology policies, nonetheless needed to get your permission before they may do the identical. That places I.S.P.S at a disadvantage to other tech organizations, they argue, in terms of competing for advert greenbacks, and issues systems like Facebook and Google, which reportedly see the rule as commencing the door to in addition policies inside the patron statistics location.

Thirty-4 senators backed the decision earlier than Thursday’s vote, spearheaded by means of Senator Jeff Flake. The degree becomes also sponsored by means of new F.C.C. Chairman Ajit Pai, the former Verizon lawyer who opposed the Privateness regulations Last 12 months and has been laser-targeted on regulating technical standards in place of advocating for customers or regulating the telecommunications enterprise. Have to the decision bypass the Residence, broadband companies would be capable of collect a trove of records—things like economic facts and browsing history—from its users. The general public of consumers might be affected, though there will probably be a choose-out function.

The changes have left patron safety and Privateness advocates reeling. The dismantling of the Obama-technology guidelines “would be a crushing loss for on-line Privateness,” the Digital Frontier Basis said Thursday. “ISPs act as gatekeepers to the Net, giving them superb get admission to statistics of what you do online. They shouldn’t be capable of profit off of the records approximately what you search for, study about, buy, and greater without your consent.” Democrats spoke up against the Republican degree as the Senate debated the selection on Wednesday nighttime. “Yes, there are two aspects to this,” Senator Ed Markey, who created the 1996 Telecommunications Act, stated, in competition to rolling lower back Privateness protections for purchasers. “You need the entrepreneurial spirit to thrive, however, you need to have the ability to mention no, I don’t want you in my dwelling room. Sure, we’re capitalists, but we’re capitalists with a judgment of right and wrong.”

Internet Privacy Legal guidelines – Crucial Details That you Have to Realize

Privateness is one of the maximum critical troubles which can be confronted with the line. On the grounds that Internet has managed to invade every niche and corner of our lives, it’s far Essential that there is a positive line that is drawn in order to protect people. Whether it is about the protection of children online or eCommerce, there is a want for particular Internet Privateness Laws, which shield people from being exploited on-line. Considering that each sort of covenant or a transaction on-line calls for a change of private Info, it is extraordinarily imperative that there’s Privateness in such agreements.

There are many countries like U.S.A., United kingdom and India in which authorities has laid down a few recommendations which might be Vital for every citizen of that u. S . A . to comply with, even as operating online. Extraordinary nations must a certain extent Extraordinary Legal guidelines or guidelines, but there are numerous sections wherein they all are the equal. Such guidelines are best supposed for shielding individuals from any form of misuse or abuse. For condensing exploitation, such Laws are obligatory. Even websites online, have laid down an internet protection act, which is not generalized and mandatory for each internet site. but person websites, for shielding themselves and their customers, lay such Legal guidelines, which ensures punishment for the law breaker.

Internet Privacy act is in reality fictitious and now not in lifestyles. but it’s miles apart of regulations and policies laid down through every internet site. These Laws are monitoring any unlawful act committed by means of any man or woman.

In United states of America, Privacy is taken into consideration to be a ‘penumbra proper’.

there are numerous threats to Privateness on-line, which can be combated through various Internet Privateness tools or software, aside from Net Privateness Laws. Including cookies, malware, Web trojan horse, phishing, malicious proxy server, and social engineering. Even the facts that is to be had with the groups of the authorities related to individuals is likewise subjected to debates these days. Advocates and different civil libertarians experience that intricate information this is to be had with the government companies aren’t secure and can be misused.

Seeing that One-of-a-kind humans have Exclusive degrees at which they feel their Privateness is violated, it will become very tough for the government to issue a popular Net Privacy regulation that’s legitimate for every and each person. On social networking websites, human beings overtly placed up their private facts, proportion their pics and announce various events crucial of their existence openly. Webmasters and hackers can very without problems get admission to such information, but doing some in their grasp hints. This is illegal and lots of humans are being exploited online.

Internet Privateness Legal guidelines are consequently Critical reading the present scenario. Such Laws are important and for this reason, Must be synchronized for keeping tempo with the developments in the arena.

4 Reasons You want Net Privacy gear

If you’re like many people, you can now not think that you want one of the many Net Privacy equipments to be had these days. You might imagine that using that equipment most effective hints that you are hiding something, and will even cause guilt. However, the truth is that you don’t ought to be a spammer, hacker, or criminal to want Net Privateness equipment. Internet Privacy is Critical for normal human beings such as you — for many Reasons. Privateness software will assist protect you from identity theft, shield your passwords and personal data, make sure your rights of free speech and Privateness, and regain system space and speed.

Internet Privacy equipment shield You From identity theft

Hackers and identification thieves can discover huge quantities of personal records in your non-public computer. most of the time, while you delete something from your PC, the records isn’t completely removed out of your gadget. What you notion became gone definitely stays, and may be quickly discovered by using professional hackers. Files, e-mail messages, and other documents containing private statistics can fall into the wrong arms — human beings looking to steal your credit score card, get right of entry to your bank account or thieve your identity.

Internet Privacy equipment protects Your Passwords and private records

maximum Net browsers these days can shop passwords for the websites that you go to. while this option is convenient for us, criminals can frequently discover and use this records to get admission to your electronic mail money owed, online banking, and credit card accounts.

Internet Privacy equipment make sure Your Rights

The rights of free speech and Privacy are time-honored to mankind – no matter u . S . he or she might also live in. Anybody Have to have the ability to speak their thoughts without demanding Whether or not what they’re announcing is famous or no longer. Similarly, humans Need to be unfastened to surf the Internet for information without having to fear about being tracked by someone else. Net Privacy tools shield Those simple human rights no matter the authorities you live underneath.

Internet Privateness equipment Beautify gadget pace

As you browse thru the Net, many documents can emerge as staying to your laptop. A number of These are harmless ‘cookies’ that help you get right of entry to websites Such as Amazon.Com, but others have a more evil purpose. Adware can land to your laptop, allowing hackers and criminals to music each move you are making online.

[allwicca]

Pagan publishing in a changing world: an interview with Anne Newkirk Niven

By: Terence P. Ward FOREST GROVE, Ore. — Pagan magazine publishing might be considered a cottage industry, with a rich tradition that extends back to the days when newsletters were created on photocopy machines and shared ad infinitum among friends. BBI Media might not be operated out of an actual cottage, but it is one of the last remaining publishers of Pagan-focused print magazines in the United States, and it isn’t exactly an empire, either.

“We work out of our basement,” said Anne Newkirk Niven, whose company puts out both Witches & Pagans and SageWoman magazines. “People are surprised when they call and I answer the phone. It’s just my husband, my son, and me.” BBI Media has never been the sort of company that is headquartered in a gleaming tower with the CEO’s corner office providing a command view of the world below. It is more like a shining soapbox, a place where Pagans with something to say have been able to find an audience.

Through a number of magazine titles and a wide variety of blogs hosted at Pagansquare.com, Niven has provided opportunities for Pagan writers who may or may not be ready to publish an entire book.  She offers an opportunity for thoughtful discourse in a world where reaction often outpaces cognition.

Niven is unable put a date on when she first identified as Pagan, but estimates that it’s been about thirty years. “I’m an eclectic polytheist Witch,” she said. “I do think that different gods have agency, but I have a great fondness for the God and Goddess.”

She considers the fact that her livelihood is based on serving the Pagan community a great boon. “I’m very, very lucky and fortunate,” she said. “I’m sure a lot of people would like to dedicate their professional life to Pagan practice. It’s a great blessing.” “I had a copy of SageWoman, and cold-called the publisher,” she explained. The timing was right. The publisher “had just had one printed upside-down and backwards,” and was ready to try someone new.  After successfully printing it right-side up for several issues, Niven learned that the publisher had “hit hard times.”That blessing came in the form of opportunity or, as she put it, “I got into it by accident, but not entirely by accident.”  Niven was seeking clients for her husband’s printing business, and hand-printed ‘zines were all the rage at the time.

“I offered to buy the magazine with an inheritance from my mother,” Niven said. Three years after making that purchase, Niven took on editing responsibilities, as well, starting with issue 25. SageWoman now has 90 issues published, with Niven editing all those since.

“Don’t quit your day job,” Niven said, as a warning to anyone who wishes to follow in her footsteps. “You won’t draw a salary for a long, long time.”

Anne Newkirk Niven

Building upon SageWoman, a number of other titles have been created over the years: PanGaia, New Witch, Blessed Be, and Crone were all created as BBI periodicals. SageWoman and Witches & Pagans are the only two now being published by the company, and Niven said that there are no plans at this time to create any new titles.

What’s stayed the same through all the titles and all the years, Niven said, is the desire to “tell our stories to each other. Inspirational, relatively upbeat stories. That’s why we’re still around.”

Surviving as a magazine publisher alongside the internet is no small feat. Doing so while serving a Pagan community that is undergoing massive change adds another layer of challenge. “Paganism is more varied and complex” than when the first issue of SageWoman hit the stands, Niven said. “It was very Wicca-flavored, at least the West Coast Paganism I’m familiar with.”

She went on to describe a Paganism steeped in hippie counterculture, protests, and peace movements. It was in opposition to anything that had a whiff of “establishment” to it. “Now, we’re everywhere. Some are working on Wall Street, at least one is in the presidential administration, and there are Pagans in every profession. I even know several Christian ministers who are Pagan. It is no longer scary to say you are a Witch or Pagan,” she added, although acknowledging that the fear still exists in some areas.*

“In a sense, we’ve won,” Niven said, noting that she began this work in the heyday of Jack Chick, the Christian comic artist who died last month. “We no longer have to convince people that we aren’t going to sacrifice their children and cats; that’s no longer a mainstream belief about us. Mostly, we’re seen as harmless goofballs.”

As the number of Pagans has risen — Niven guessed that there are ten times as many as when she started on her path — being seen as “goofballs” is a “sea change” from when most people, as she said, “thought we were evil, or didn’t know we exist.”

She hopes that BBI publications has helped in some way.

While perceptions of Paganism among members of the general public have changed, so too have Pagans changed in how they view themselves. Recalling a time when nearly all Paganism was Wiccan influenced, Niven said, “In the ’90s, we thought it was the ‘old religion’ with an unbroken lineage. Metaphorically yes, but literally no. We now have more sophistication about our roots. That’s important, because it keeps fundamentalism down.”

A 1995 issue of PanGaia published a lengthy article debunking of the trope that nine million women were burned during the so-called “Burning Times.” Niven said that she is still quite proud of that piece. She did add that she likes the song that Charlie Murphy wrote about it, but said that “there are no winners in the victim Olympics.”

Awareness brings its own issues. Pagans, particularly Witches, are now a regular part of Hollywood entertainment. While that in part helps to normalize the idea of Paganism, there are consequences. “I get asked for spells like body-switching from time to time,” Niven said, not to mention requests for instant wealth. “I would have used that myself!” she said.

Today, Paganism has many branches that stem from Wicca, and many more that do not. Polytheists and Heathens do not always consider themselves Pagans, based on what they feel the overarching values associated with that label are. Niven thinks Paganism “resembles first-century Christianity,” in that there are many factions and a fair bit of theological squabbling.

“It’s very cool, and totally healthy,” she said.

Niven hasn’t been a member of an established group in quite some time, and in that way mirrors most of her readers. “I think about Paganism 60-70 hours a week,” she explained, “and at the end of the day, it’s time to have dinner, watch television or play a game.” Repeated surveys have shown her that most readers of BBI magazines also worship largely on their own.

“Back in the day, there was a theory that one became a Witch by saying so three times. Self-initiation is absolutely a thing. There’s no pope setting the rules.” In addition, most Pagans and others stuck with that label tend to bristle at the idea of hierarchy, she has observed.

In a sense, Niven thinks that the trend toward solitary practice is an historical aberration born of the current culture of individualism. “In a hundred years, or 200, it might transform again into set of more socially-controlled religions, and that probably wouldn’t be a bad thing.” Witches, however, will likely always have a solitary role to play, living on the edges of society and providing wisdom and healing to those who seek it.

Continuing to publish on paper also makes BBI Media stand out. “Paper is becoming a premium product,” Niven said, calling it an underrated technology that’s easy on the eyes and doesn’t require a power source. “Comparing paper and digital is like comparing cabbage and a banana,” she said, “they just don’t taste the same.”

Niven feels that paper is superior for long-form writing, and that’s what is mostly what is presented in her magazines. The bloggers at Pagansquare.com tend to write shorter pieces, which is suitable for that medium. Digital is much better for information such as phone numbers, where a search function makes the data more usable.

CC BY-NC-ND by emanuela franchini

Niven believes that there will always be an audience for paper. “The ecological footprint of digital is not zero,” she said, and BBI publications have been printed with soy ink on recycled paper for far longer than most people knew about those options. There’s also a number of her readers that prefer to peruse the magazines while in the bath, which can be tricky when using a tablet.

BBI became one of the last publisher of print Pagan magazines in North America last year, when Circle Magazine’s final issue was published. She attributes that not to any failing on the part of Circle’s staff, but to a difference in mission. “[Circle Magazine] was never their main ministry. Publishing is all we ever do. We don’t hold services, give degrees, consecrate, or initiate.”

What the hardworking people at BBI Media do instead is provide a platform for mostly positive pieces on Paganism, in all its many forms, including for people who don’t want to be called Pagan at all but would like to be heard by those who do.

[Author’s Note: This interview took place prior to the recent presidential election, and does not reflect any events that have occurred since that time.]

Terence P Ward

Terence P Ward is a moneyworker, journalist, Hellenic polytheist and convinced Friend who lives in the bucolic Hudson Valley with his wife, five cats, and multiple household shrines.

  The post Pagan publishing in a changing world: an interview with Anne Newkirk Niven appeared first on Familiar Territory.

from Pagan publishing in a changing world: an interview with Anne Newkirk Niven

[hobicomeholla29]

Shatter - Part 1 - JHS

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader

Genre: Angst/ Romance/ Fluff in the future

Word Count:3.9k

Warnings: Mentions of death/Mentions of wars/Mentions(hints) of depression/Mourning

Rating: PG13

A/N: Hey! Hey! Before I get into anything else I first have to that all the beautiful who helped me with checkin, beta reading and giving me fantastic feedback in general! @sugaa-sugaaa​ @spicykoreantatertots​ @nottodayjjk​ Thank you so so much for your words of support and for pushing me through to deliver a good piece for everyone!

That being said, This is a 2 shot! Please look forward to part 2!

Summary: In a post-apocalyptic world, where humankind’s greed has lead plannet earth to turn into a ball of duts, all Hoseok wants is a better and bright future, yet strong feelings and a positive mind doesn’t always cut it.

Masterlist

The early morning sky was filled with an eerie fog that threatened to smother anyone who didn’t wear the appropriate attire for being outdoors. 

You stood straight; hands balled in tight fists. A mixture of emotions running through your body. Sadness, anger, helplessness, fear… 

You were the only ones standing in the middle of the empty field, no one else daring to stand still and be surrounded by the suffocating drafts of air that carried large amounts of toxins --a consequence of humankind utilizing nuclear weapons in the past. 

You remember stories being told about your ancestors taking long walks through lucious fields without sporting gas masks on their faces, just imagine enjoying the air in the atmosphere instead of fearing it. 

Most parts of the beautiful earth that once existed were now wastelands, all thanks to what was called The Colossal War. 

Civilization was anything but civilized after that, creating division and animosity between groups of people with different ideals. 

Clans were created and with them the claiming of lands. Lands that provided resources for sustenance, yet the quick dwindling of resources and supplies made some clans selfish, refusing to barter with others and instead attempting to conquer their lands as well. 

With bigger and stronger clans taking over the smaller and weaker ones, eventually only four major clans remained, the only exception being small factions that settled between the abandoned areas near the borders of each clan. 

Some factions were harmless, only looking for a peaceful place to live, making them nomads, since they had to constantly move to avoid being forced to pledge to one of the four major clans. Others were rioters, ready to go against anything and anyone who posed a threat to their beliefs and wants. 

During the long solars that came and went after The Colossal War, much had changed.

Technology, communication, transportation, settlements.

It had all changed, but you really couldn't say it was all for good. 

Technology had turned obsolete at a steady pace, leaving only a few gadgets that were still able to function without being saturated or losing signal without proper cell towers.

Most of them had been vandalized or burned to ashes, mostly to steal copper from the area. 

The only remaining signal towers were those of glass recorders. 

A glass recorder was the device that kept track of a person’s life. 

Since The Colossal War in 3010, civil wars had been blowing up everywhere. Causing inconvenience in simple tasks like having troops return to a fallen soldier's clan to inform their family about their passing. 

A simple duty as this one might have worked back in 2020 but not in 3011. 

If troops were sent back, they were at risk of running into an enemy faction and breaking into another battle. 

Hence, in 3015, glass recorders were created. 

A glass recorder was a device made out of bulletproof glass. Its interior was filled with cables and microchips that contained a person’s personal information, tracking and broadcasting an individual’s vital signs at all times. Constant long-ranged waves went from the glass recorder - to the signal towers around the globe - to the chip installed in the individual's neck and back. 

You could say its data sharing function was similar to the behaviour of olden times bluetooth connections, except that the only information it could send and receive was vital signs and  identification details. 

Many tried hacking them, attempting to rob information from the device and using it for ulterior motives, however they are designed with an auto destruction mode in case of hacking or death and their towers were heavily protected by troops from each clan. 

Usually their sizes were similar to that of an old cellphone. 

On one side there’s a knob, remarkably similar to what DJs back in the day used on their mixing boards. It acted as a switch between the different modes the glass recorder could be set on, them being Vitals, Information and Hologram. And on the other side there was a touchscreen, where vitals could be read and holograms could be activated. 

There was also an XBS dock entrance on one side of the device. It was mostly used by the law enforcers by transferring any new information about an individual from their archives to the glass recorder, whether it was good or bad. 

All of that information, including marital status, first degree relatives, occupation, date of birth and allergies could be found on information mode. 

On vitals, details were given about their current health status and the sound of their heartbeat could be played. 

And finally on hologram mode, you could see a three-dimensional scale of the owner’s body, making it easier to check for injuries or if any internal damage had been taken.

Besides glass recorders, communication had jumped back to messaging via written letters or oral messages sent via a messenger.

Any vehicles that had existed on the face of earth, had been overhauled.

Updated to cater to the usage it now provided to the arid ground.

Motorcycles, cars, buses, trucks and ships, all modified.

Additional exhaust pipes, thicker tires, dust shields, dredging machinery, artillery and artillery holders, were examples of things you had seen being mounted on different transports, including aircrafts. 

As for yourself, you lived in a colony that had been forced to be part of one of the major 4 clans, The Jeon Clan. 

The Jeon clan was strong, the Jeon clan was powerful, the Jeon clan was feared, the Jeon clan was blinded by its greed, the Jeon clan stood above everyone and if you refused their ways, then you refused living. 

That's how your small clan ended up under their command. 

It was common to hear stories as an infant about how the Jeon clan conquered. They always portrayed the glorious stories of how leader -Jeon the 1st-  had tirelessly battled large creatures and evil men to save small clans from their miserable lives, however in each capsule each family shared the story with their offspring as they remembered it best. 

Meaning some stories were wonderful, while others were resentful memories and stories of how their clans had been forced to change their ways or how they had lost loved ones to the Jeon reign. 

You were only 7 when it all happened.

You remember it so clearly, it felt like you were reliving it each time.

_

You stood in the middle of the large hangar, eyes searching left and right for your father. 

Men and women ran all around, either towards shelter or towards the battle zone. 

A military truck's engine roared in the background, yet you couldn't figure out which of the twenty something trucks near you had been brought to life. 

You frantically ran in the opposite direction. You needed to find him, you needed to convince him not to go. 

Running as fast as your short legs could take you, you tightly held on to the glass recorder in your hand. 

Tears started prickling your eyes the longer it went without you being able to find him. 

Two NSTV vehicles sped past you, swiftly followed by a caravan of men on choppers, armed to the teeth.

Luckily none of them seemed to be your father.

You were getting desperate. 

All he had done was left a note on your bed with his glass recorder.

"My beautiful cyberflower, I love you so much. And because I love you, I must defend you. Papa might not be back for a while, but he will make sure that if he doesn't come back at all, it is because he was able to create a better place for you to live in." 

He promised he would never go, that he would stay no matter what. 

That he wouldn't do the same thing your mom did.

Leaving you behind was never the solution. You preferred having them both and figuring everything else out later than having none of them and still being lost. 

Why was it so easy for them to leave you behind…?

You didn't notice you had dropped to your knees, you didn't notice the tears that cascaded from your face and you certainly didn't notice how your mourning wail had halted all activities under the hangar. 

All frozen in place, no one in the building could figure out why. How could the desperate cry of a child send shivers down their spine? How could it express without mistake, their inner thoughts and feelings.

They felt the grief and pain of having to put their lives on the line to give their loved ones a better future.

A future that should have been granted to them, but the Jeons thought differently. 

Yet, your clearest memory from that day was the tight embrace that pulled you out of your dazed state. 

The embrace that told you that even if everything didn't turn out as you wanted, he would be there to walk you through it. 

He would be there with that bright smile of his that cleared away all of your cloudy days. 

_ 

A rundown metallic shed stood at a distance, it was probably used in the past by troops as a hideout, yet for several solars it had been a place you used for solace. 

The location gave you a quiet place to think, a quiet place to run away to when everything got too hectic at the colony, a place to yell out of frustration. It was your place -even if it was on enemy's territory. 

However, today said shed felt smaller, its tall walls choking you, suppressing your lungs, no calm remained in it as the words that dropped from your lover’s mouth bounced from wall to wall. The echo made you feel like the words were mocking you by constantly repeating what he said. 

"I must go, and you must stay.” 

You knew you had heard word of people in the colony joining forces with others near you, to topple the Jeon clan. 

Nonetheless, you figured it was just tittle-tattle.

Yet here you are standing in the middle of the building, right in front of your lover, who is spewing the same nonsense your father did so many solara ago.

"Is this a joke? 'Cause I'm not laughing..." 

You saw his hands clenched into fists in annoyance, he tried holding in his feelings, yet the frustrated sigh that left his lips sold him out quickly. 

Deep down he knew you wouldn’t take the news lightly, that you would want to accompany him on this journey as well or avoid the whole thing in general. But if he let you, if you came along, his departure would have no meaning. He was leaving for you. He thought you would be more rational.That the conversation would last less than a fraction of a solar, but he stood corrected. 

"I can't stay here on my own. You can’t leave me just like that." You were distraught. Your eyes searched for his, yet his gaze remained on the door you had used moments ago to enter the shed. 

You needed to bring his mind back to you, to the present where you both still remained, you needed to keep him away from thoughts of the unknown future and the doom that could be.

Why was he trying to be person number three on your mourning list? 

Your eyes remained on his, yet your fingers occupied themselves trying to find his glove-covered ones, the action making him look down at your entwined fingers. 

His eyes seemed to soften at your actions and that alone helped you breathe easier. Deep down you knew that you had to stay back and wait for him, it would be the safest place for you, the colony was your home, but the news he dropped on you like a bucket of cold water had your common senses frozen.Why would he want to leave you so suddenly? 

Maybe he no longer wanted this, maybe you were too much, maybe that promise he made solars ago about walking the path with you was too heavy and too much of a burden... 

"You must stay, for me,” He said, “and for them." His eyes dropped to your stomach, his free hand caressing the bump that had started forming not long ago. 

"Hoseok...please..." You had to try at least one more time. If he still was that warrior at heart that you had once met, then he was certain to leave even with you crying rivers. 

"I must go, my love. I have to be a part of this fight that will give our family the freedom that they deserve. The freedom that WE deserve." His eyes glossed over, yet not one tear abandoned his eye. He was sure of his decision and nothing could stop him now. 

"You don't have to... A lot of men are already there." 

"And I am sure they also have families and other reasons to be there. I will lend them a hand and they shall lend me one. We will fight for a better life and world, a better place to raise our offspring, a better place to grow old." At this point in conversation, his eyes are boring into yours, yet there is no anger towards you. Only love, strong, heated, unwavering, caring and passionate love. There was certainly no way for you to fight against that. 

For a split second, his eyes left yours, and you followed the movements of his left hand. Carefully, he pushed his hand into his pocket, retrieving a device that you were very familiar with. 

His glass recorder. 

"I- I can’t." 

"It's the only way for you to know my status... and if it ever comes to worse, you'll know not to wait for me any longer." He said as he placed it in your hand. 

"Please stop talking like you are a dead man already!" 

"Y/n-" You interrupted him mid-sentence. You were blabbing now. All your thoughts and fears spilling out at once. 

"No! I don’t want to hear it! I don’t want you to go! I want you here with me, with our babies. If you tell the Chief he will let you stay. We are expecting! I can’t lose you; you are walking to your grav-" 

"Y/N!" His sudden yell made you flinch, but nonetheless, you looked him in the eyes, only to find them filled with tears. Filled with fear but determination as well. 

He was always like this, a young man with a mission. Fire in his eyes, determined to make this world a better place, even if it scared him to the core. He always said... 

"There is no better way to deal with fear than to walk right over it..." Those stupid words he repeated everyday since you were 7. "This is me walking all over it. This is me putting you -putting them over my fear of what may be." 

"I love you." 

"And I love you, my beautiful cyberflower." His hand grabbed yours, slowly bringing each one of them to his face and kissing your knuckles and palms softly.

"I'll always return to you." 

And so, you watched him ride his chopper towards the horizon.

His silhouette quickly disappeared in the darkness of the night.

Even though the light of the moon shone brightly, it felt dark around you, as if your clouds had returned with the sole departure of his bright smile. 

Your hand squeezed the device he left behind, your grip getting stronger the further he drove and now you really wondered, "How is it so easy for everyone to leave me behind?" 

150 solars and 149 lunars went by, yet nothing had changed. 

Since the day Hoseok had left, your days consisted of nothing but worrying, eating, and visiting the shed. 

An old steel bench was set outside of the old metallic building and just like any other day you'd visited, you sat on the edge of it, contemplating life and hoping today was the day Hoseok would return to you as he had promised. 

As time flew by, you added this day to the list of other ones where your lover didn't return and although you tried to remain as positive as possible, you couldn't stop thinking about why life was so cruel? Why did any of you have to live through this? It certainly wasn't fair. No one deserved to be forced to choose death if they didn't choose what someone else wanted. 

Since your great-grandparents' days, the future was supposed to be glorious, beautiful, and bright. Technology was supposed to make everything better. But somehow it all turned to worse. 

Pride, arrogance, and selfishness had created the horrible world that you now lived in. 

People lost their lives as an exchange for a promise they never received.

They fought battles to free people who were slaves to their own fears and now this was the consequence of all that was done. What a sad life to live. What a horrible life to live. 

You rubbed your stomach feeling your bump as it continued to grow. Time doesn’t stop for anyone, is what they say and your clear example is how close you are to being due.

The walk back to your clan’s colony was an easy 10-minute walk that could turn mortal if taken while distracted, hence you carried a machete in your boot. 

Once you set foot on your colony's official territory, you swiftly made your way to your family home capsule, ready to wash off the sorrow and go to bed as you would wait for the next solar to come. 

Sadly for you, that hope disappeared the second you made eye contact with someone you didn't wish to see at the moment.

His eyes caught yours and you saw a mix of emotions: sorrow, understanding, relief and worry, all conveyed to you in a single glance. 

You knew what was to come, it was always the same dialogue, but you didn't want to do this today. 

Today you felt drowned, disappointed, you could feel that dark cloud that loomed over your head enlarging day by day. 

"You know it’s not s—” 

“Save it, Namjoon. I’m not a chil—" 

“—But you are a carrying woman, who is walking carelessly to a place where no one can or will follow you.” 

“I am not carele—"

“Y/N, shut up for once and put this through your thick skull!! Hendra is enemy territory!!” 

And with that he left to his own family capsule, stomping all the way to the door and slamming it closed.

For the first time, you felt different and maybe it had something to do with the fact that Namjoon and your argument didn't end in the usual monotonous sermon he always gave you, where he remained calm all the way and you rolled your eyes in annoyance. 

The funny part about the entire thing was that you were cousins, and your family capsules were right beside each other, so you were sure you'd have to see his sour expression the following day. 

Finally in your own capsule - the one you used to share with Hoseok, you took that shower that you daydreamed about and headed to your room. 

Just like every night, you muted your room to the outside world, opting to listen to the broadcast of your beloved’s heartbeat. 

It was the only thing that helped you sleep at night and somehow you felt as if it pacified the two progenies in you. 

You didn't know when or how it happened, but eventually 365 solars had gone by. 

365 solars since the day of his departure and you weren't getting any better at being without him. 

You were now a mother of two. A dawn and a dusk. One born in the early morning and one almost 12 hours later. 

So, you gave them names that matched their arrivals to this world, Dawn and Dusk. 

All times prior to that day, you felt that once they arrived, there would be this large turning point in your life. That once you had someone who depended on you, your days would start to shift into something brighter, yet somehow, even after the arrival of your children, you felt almost no difference, bordering on saying that you might even felt worse. 

Their faces were the perfect mix of your deoxyribonucleic acid and his. Two different beings creating harmony in the body of two newer ones. 

Their father had left to give them a better future but, in the process, he had left a broken family behind. It felt incomplete and hollow and somehow you envied the blissful ignorance that your infants currently lived in. Not able to understand the sorrowful life that currently surrounded them.  

Another 365 solars went by. 

You still listened to Hoseok’s heartbeats every night. The glass recorder remaining as your sole companion in addition to your —now— toddlers. 

The night remained quiet. You could barely hear the murmur of voices from the capsule near yours. If you were right, you were sure it was Namjoon and his wife, discussing the plan for retrieving meals for the clan the following morning. 

You shifted on the foam mattress that only reminded you more of him. A very faint and almost gone notion of his scent wafting up from what used to be his pillow. 

From afar you watched the two small bodies –lying on the second mattress in your room— inhale and exhale deep in their slumber. 

They had —just like you— fallen asleep to the beat of the heart of a stranger you placed in front of them and made them call him father. 

You loved them, every bit of them. Would do anything for them not to suffer, and maybe just then, in that moment, you understood a bit of Hoseok’s reasoning. 

You toss and turn all of a sudden jerking awake from your slumber. You could not recall when you had fallen asleep, so your mind remained disoriented for a short minute, trying to grasp your surroundings. Your heavy eyes roamed around the room, picking up on every detail, the babies were still asleep, the clock read 3AM and the glass recorder wasn’t beating… 

THE GLASS RECORDER WASN’T BEATING! 

Violently, you pulled the sheets off your body, grabbing the device as soon as your hands were close enough to grab it. 

“Why are you not beating? Why are you not broadcasting? What the fu—” 

And it hit you like a train… but you didn’t believe it, you couldn’t believe it. 

You shook it and twisted the knob and switched it to hologram mode, but it wasn’t working and you didn’t know what to do, your hands were shaking, your thoughts were jumbled… 

“This can’t be happening.” 

And when a fake solar illuminated your mind, you quickly turned around to plug it in to your old computer, however, the universe had other plans for you and without announcement the device cracked. 

You watched it crack little by little, extending all around the recorder, slowly marking the beautiful device with horrible lines that marked its ending, it didn't stop until it was no longer graspable and all that was left behind was crystal dust in your cupped hands. 

You didn’t hear when Namjoon and his wife entered your room or when your kids were taken out of there. Your sobs alerting 3 capsules nearby of the sorrowful occurrence of the night.

It was the worst type of Deja Vu, because just like your mother and father, you’d never see him again…

“Hoseok…”  

[tyrantisterror]

REVENGE OF THE A.T.O.M. CREATE A KAIJU CONTEST!

Eons ago, when the earth was young, I held the first A.T.O.M. Create a Kaiju Contest, and creators like YOU populated my activity page with a legion of giant monsters!  Now, years later, in celebration of publishing the first volume of The Atomic Time of Monsters, the contest calls to us once again, and it’s only grown bigger and spikier with age.  If you wish to once more ravage the world with atomic titans of your own design, then please, read on after the cut to discover the rules of this thrilling kaiju role call!

Ok, for clarity’s sake I’ll drop the goofy melodramatic tone.

Like the first A.T.O.M. Create a Kaiju Contest, the aim of this contest is to create kaiju that would fit within the setting of my big kaiju story series, The Atomic Time of Monsters.  Think of it as me letting you into my sandbox to play with my toys for a bit, or like you’re being put in the director’s chair of a new ATOM-verse kaiju movie.  That means your entry does have to fit into ATOM’s world, which in turn means that yes, there are limitations to your creativity here.  But limitations can be good sometimes - they can make us explore options we wouldn’t consider when given completely free rein to do what we want!

THE RULES:

1.  This time around, you are limited to one entry per person.  Last time we produced 60+ kaiju, which was awesome, but this time around I want to narrow the scope a little bit - especially if I end up doing something crazy and end up drawing them all like last time, since my carpal tunnel syndrome afflicted hand just can’t do what it did those years ago.  Work hard and make your entry count!

2.  Your kaiju must have some sort of description of its physical appearance and its personality - you can submit a drawing or a written description (or both!) for the physical appearance depending on what you’re most comfortable with.  Using the ATOM kaiju file template isn’t required, but it was cool when people did it in the last contest, so feel free to do so this time too!

3. The kaiju you create must specifically be created for this contest  - no repurposing characters you made for other, wildly different stories.

4. The kaiju must fit the setting and aesthetics of ATOM.  I’ll explain this in more detail down below.

5. The kaiju should add something meaningful to the world of ATOM. What would be the point of having another fire-breathing t.rex monster?  The more unique and interesting your kaiju is, the more likely you will win the contest.

6. The kaiju must be independent of the main plot of ATOM - not “Tyrantis’s long lost evil brother who’s the strongest kaiju in the world.” These should be to Tyrantis’s story what War of the Gargantuas is to Godzilla’s movies – heroes (well, monsters) of another story in the same world.

THE REWARDS:

I will make pencil sketches of the top 5 entries in the contest.

I will then make fully rendered illustrations (lineart, colors, & shading) of the top three entries.

The winning entry will be made into a model ala the ones I’ve been making for ATOM’s core 50 monsters, which can then be shipped to the person who created it (should they be able to cover the shipping costs).  That’s right, your kaiju could be brought to life in THREE GLORIOUS TECHNICOLOR DIMENSIONS!

THE DEADLINE: All entries must be submitted by August 9th, 2019.  You can submit it here on tumblr, via the horror flora e-mail, or any other channel you know how to reach me through.  I’m in a lot of places.

THE GUIDELINES (TO HELP YOUR ENTRY FIT THE RULES AND WIN)

The smartest thing you could do if you want to win this contest is familiarize yourself with the world of ATOM by, y’know, reading all the material I’ve published on the subject.  In addition to the many kaiju files that are free to read on horrorflora.com, the first actual, factual novel in the series was published very recently (and, y’know, is the reason I’m holding this contest), which you can get from amazon in both paperback and/or kindle editions (I’d recommend the former over the latter since I lack the technology to make a really nice ebook, but if money is an object, the kindle version is only $1).

However, since I know reading a bunch of stuff is, y’know, not something everyone is inclined to do, I’ll jot some good bullet points for you in an attempt to outline how ATOM works in a brief, easily digested way:

ATOM is an homage to the monster fiction of the 1950’s and 60’s (i.e. the Atomic Age), and is set in those two decades, albeit an alternate universe version of them where, y’know, monsters and space aliens exist.  If you aren’t familiar with the monster fiction I’m referring to, there will be some reference material provided at the end of this post along with some recommendations for further research.

Kaiju/giant monsters in ATOM work under very specific rules.  There’s a full description of those rules at this link, but here’s the jist:

ATOM Kaiju are created created by the radiation of a mineral called Yamaneon, which naturally converts harmful radiation into its own unique energy.  In natural circumstances, it takes hundreds of years of exposure to Yamaneon radiation for a creature to become fully transform into a kaiju (luckily, Yamaneon radiation slows the aging process while speeding up the healing process).  However, an explosive burst of energy - such as the geothermal and kinetic energy released by an earthquake, or the blast of a nuclear weapon - can speed up the process, turning a normal animal into a kaiju within a matter of seconds.  

All ATOM kaiju can heal grievous wounds within minutes or even seconds, are supernaturally strong and durable, and can convert harmful radiation to harmless energy that they then feed off of.  Kaiju do not have an equivalent of old age, and can theoretically live forever (though their violent lifestyle means that few do).

ATOM Kaiju generally don’t need to eat unless they are severely injured, getting most of the energy they need from solar or geothermal radiation - but many still have instincts that drive them to seek out food from time to time.

Most ATOM kaiju stand roughly 100 feet tall (depending on their body shape), i.e. smaller than the original 1954 Godzilla.  There are exceptions to this rule - younger kaiju can be smaller, while exceedingly old kaiju can be significantly larger, but these are rare.

In general, ATOM kaiju are significantly more intelligent and emotionally complex than people expect animals to be, though most are incapable of speech or complex tool use.  There’s a reason ATOM Kaiju Files have a “personality” section.

Most ATOM Kaiju are tooth and claw fighters - ranged weapons are a rarity in this setting.

While the terrestrial monsters in ATOM look strange, they are intended to fit within the taxonomy of animals in reality - reptiles, mammals, fish, arthropods, molluscs, etc.

ATOM’s mesozoic era was dominated by a fictional clade of crocodile-relatives called retrosaurs, which are based on the outdated paleoart that one would find in the 1950’s/60’s fiction - i.e. when dinosaurs were viewed as trail dragging lizards instead of strange birds.  You can learn more about retrosaurs here.

Kaiju appear on every continent in ATOM, but certain areas tend to be dominated by different types.

North America is mainly besieged by retrosaur kaiju and giant arthropods.

East Asia is technically also mainly plagued by retrosaurs and big arthropods, though they tend to look more fantastical and mythic - and, often, oddly well suited to being portrayed by a person wearing a monster suit.

Russia is beset by prehistoric monsters that seem to come from the Cenozoic, particularly the Ice Age.

Western Europe is plagued by creatures that vaguely resemble creatures from myth, if they were also prehistoric.  Dragon-y lizards, fiery birds, etc.

Towards the mid-way point of ATOM’s timeline, earth is invaded by a coalition of aliens from different solar systems called the Beyonder Alliance, and as a result a bunch of alien monsters can be found on earth.

Mars and Venus both host (or hosted in Mars’s case) animal life.  The surviving Martians colonized Venus, and sent some of their kaiju guardians to earth to help us fend off the Beyonders (who are responsible for the destruction of Mars’s ecosystem).  Martian and Venusian kaiju have specific anatomical quirks, which you can see by looking at these kaiju files:

Venusians:

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/03/atom-kaiju-file-29-karamtor/

Martians:

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-39-kemlasulla/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-40-podritak/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-41-sombarvot/

https://horrorflora.com/2017/01/17/atom-kaiju-file-38-ullawdra/

Giant robots exist in ATOM, but are big, bulky, and incredibly expensive.  Fancy beam weapons also exist, but are similarly clunky - there are no sleek, elegant machines in ATOM.

Since the fiction ATOM takes inspiration from was made at a time when interplanetary travel was only just beginning to be possible, its scope is significantly smaller than modern sci-fi.  Alternate universes/dimensions were pretty uncommon because the idea of alien planets still held a lot of wonder to it.  So, as a general rule, don’t try to go farther than the one galaxy.

ATOM is a setting for stories that are focused on humanity learning to co-exist with monsters, rather than humanity destroying them.  A certain level of sympathy is put into almost every creature of its canon, even the ones that are meant to be villains.

REFERENCE MATERIAL

Here is a playlist of 1950′s monster movie trailers.

Here is some reference material from various monster comics of the 50′s and 60′s.

Video of retrosaurs in action.

Good movies to track down to understand ATOM’s inspiration and tone include Ghidorah the 3 Headed Monster, Son of Godzilla, Destroy All Monsters, Them!, The Black Scorpion, 20 Million Miles to Earth, Gamera, The Giant Claw, and The Lost Skeleton of Cadavra.

Finally, here’s the page for the original ATOM Create a Kaiju Contest, which has even more reference material for you to peruse.