#like I’m good at identifying them because I had to learn for class but actually viewing them in non taxidermy forms is a struggle | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

actress4him · 2 months ago

Text

The Shadow of Death - Highschool AU - New Kid

I actually wrote this piece quite a long time ago, but felt awkward at the time about posting teenage whump. Since then I've realized that there's quite a few people out there who don't mind it, and I do love this au, so here I am posting it.

Shoutout to @painful-pooch my love who owns Bruno and comes up with most of his dialogue and actions for these pieces

Brumaria taglist: @sssunshinebreeze

Contains: lady whump, minor (teen) whump, abusive parent, starvation, neglect, physical abuse, bullying, passing out, duct tape, prejudice, panic, foster care mention

“Alright everybody, pipe down. That means you, Hannah. Seriously. Stop talking. Do we need to go through this again?

“Okay guys, we have a new student today, go ahead and introduce yourself.”

Kamaria glances up from her notes long enough to take in the brown hair, the black eye, and the letterman jacket, then lets her frizzy curls fall back over her face.

“Bruno Skovgaard.” The name is mumbled so quietly it barely reaches her desk in the very back of the room. Not what she expected from a high school athlete, but it hardly registers, anyway. She’s too busy trying to make sense of the scientific jargon squeezed onto every millimeter of her notebook page to bother with yet another guy who will either ignore her or bully her.

It momentarily slips her mind that the only available desk in the room is the one next to hers, until said guy plops down into it. She can’t see him past her curtain of hair, though. If she’s lucky, he’ll take that as the sign to leave her alone that it is.

He doesn’t. No surprise there, she’s never been lucky a day in her life. “Hi. I’m Bruno, what’s your name?”

The teacher has started into her lesson, but Kamaria keeps reading, eyes scanning the notes again and again as if it will all make sense if she goes over it enough times. She needs that much more than she needs to listen in this particular class. They’re covering the Civil War, and she already learned all of this in her last school.

“Hey. Curls. What’s your name?”

Acicular, asymmetrical, cordate, cuneiform, deltoid… they’re leaf shapes, she knows they are, but she can’t call to mind what any of them actually look like. If she actually had room in her notebook, like she should, then she could have made real, decent notes that had sketches and details. But no, she’s stuck cramming everything in as tightly as possible because her notebook is almost full and her father refuses to buy her a new one. Maybe this weekend she can find some time to go back and erase the things she knows she won’t need again at this school, as much as it makes her cringe.

“Is she deaf?”

“Nope. Just a freak.”

Good, he knows now, maybe he’ll stop trying to talk to her.

Acicular, asymmetrical, cordate, cuneiform, deltoid…

Something slides onto her desk, and she jolts, head coming up to stare at first the object - a small, plastic package of two food items she can’t immediately identify - then the perpetrator. A smile spreads over his face. He holds up his own plastic package as if toasting her.

Kamaria’s confused stare turns into a scowl. What is it that he hopes to accomplish, giving snacks to a random stranger? Is he trying to buy favors? Poison her? Get her in trouble? Prove that he’s rich? The private school letterman jacket he’s wearing is proof enough of that. Why he’s now slumming in the public school, she doesn’t know or care.

Turning the scowl on the snack - according to the picture on the front, some brown sticks that barely look edible and a pile of dark brown goop - she pushes it to the corner of her desk with her pencil eraser and returns her attention to her notes. She can hear him opening the plastic and beginning to munch, much to her aggravation.

Maybe she should work on math, instead. She’s hopelessly behind in that class, too.

When the bell rings, much too soon for Kamaria’s liking, she takes her time standing and stuffing her notebook back into her ratty purple backpack. There’s no need to run out into the halls with everyone else, she’d rather spend a bit more time in the relative quiet of the classroom and miss the worst part of the rush.

Unfortunately, new guy is lingering, too. “Hey, do you know where Mr. Miller’s class is? English?”

Good, he’s not going to be in her next class. Why he’s insisting on asking her of all people, she has no idea. She shakes her head, tugging at the zipper and praying that this isn’t the time it breaks completely.

“Hm. Guess I’ll have to ask the teacher.” He just stands there, though, watching her. “Do you not like Nutella?”

It takes her a second to realize he must be referring to the snack. She wrinkles her nose, glancing over at it, thinking about continuing to ignore him but letting her curiosity get the better of her. “What is it?”

“You’ve never had Nutella?” He says it as if this is the most shocking news of the decade. “It’s the most incredible spread ever. Chocolate hazelnut. Okay, I know I’m a stranger, but all you have to do is open the packet, take one of the sticks and dip it in the Nutella. It’s like…chocolate peanut butter. It’s so good.”

He’s so worked up over this little snack. Some…frivolous junk food. There has to be some reason that he’s so keen on her eating it, but she can’t figure out what it might be.

Thankfully, the teacher calls him up front, and she’s finally left alone. She finishes zipping her backpack, ready to sling it over her shoulder, but stops to stare at the Nutella one more time. She doesn’t get it. But it probably isn’t poisoned, and it’s food, tiny and frivolous as it may be.

Snatching it off the desk, she stuffs it in the front pocket of her bag before heading to her next class.

Turns out her father still hasn’t put any more money in her lunch account, so the packet of Nutella and what are labeled ‘breadsticks’ is the only thing she has to eat. It’s…pretty good, actually. Nowhere near filling, but since there also wasn’t any food in the house for breakfast, she’ll take what she can get. It might have to hold her over for quite a while.

Also turns out that the new guy is in another of her classes, math, but thankfully there isn’t an empty desk next to her this time. She can’t handle him distracting her with his stupid questions in that class, she’s failing as it is.

When school is over, she happens to look over and see him climbing into the passenger seat of some swanky, brand new car. She can just imagine his parent or whoever is driving him looking down their nose at the primitive surroundings, asking him if he managed to learn anything at all in such a place.

Rolling her eyes, she climbs onto the bus, clutching her backpack to her chest as if it can protect her from the hateful words thrown her way throughout the ride. No one sits next to her or pulls her hair from behind, so it’s a good trip, overall.

The first thing she notices when she walks up to the house is that Roderick is over. It stops her in her tracks, heart pounding a little too fast. Everything in her aches to turn around and walk the other direction, to keep on walking until she’s too far away for anyone to find her. But she forces herself forward, up the steps and through the door.

The second thing she notices is the smell of fast food permeating the air. Her stomach simultaneously sinks and lurches, wanting whatever it is desperately but also certain now of the answer to whether there’s going to be any dinner for her. If they grabbed food from a restaurant, then there’s no way he also bought groceries.

She goes to the kitchen to check, anyway, just in case. The cabinets and refrigerator are just as empty as they had been this morning.

After taking her backpack to her room in the basement, Kamaria works her way through her list of chores. There’s no reason to approach her father until after they’re all done. While she sweeps and mops, she psychs herself up for the conversation. She just needs to ignore Roderick, speak up, and get it over with. This would be much better if he was alone, but it can’t wait.

Once the last of the laundry has been transferred into the dryer, she stands outside his office door, hands trembling slightly as she works up the courage to knock.

“What?”

Deep breath. “May I…talk to you?”

The door is yanked open, and Roderick smirks down at her. “Look who’s home from school.”

Her father hasn’t even looked up from whatever he’s working on at his desk, but she steps into the room, anyway, purposefully moving away from Roderick. The fast food bag is still sitting on the corner of the desk. She knows there’s nothing left in it.

“Have you done your chores?”

“Yes, sir. All of them.”

He merely grunts in reply and continues working.

“Sir…is there…anything for me to eat for dinner?”

He looks up, finally, green eyes boring into her. “If you mean this -” he gestures toward the bag -“then no. Roderick picked this up for the two of us.”

She swallows. “I mean at all. There’s nothing in the kitchen.”

Sighing, he turns his attention back to his papers. “Well, then, I suppose that answers your question, doesn’t it?”

Her stomach twists painfully. “There wasn’t anything for breakfast, either.”

“You ate lunch at school, didn’t you?” Roderick pipes in.

“No.” A defiant tone automatically enters her voice when she talks to him, but she takes another breath and reels it in before continuing, glancing back at her father. “There’s still no money in my account.”

“As you can see, I’m very busy at the moment with much more important things than listening to you complain. You need to get out.”

“I just…” Kamaria clenches her hands into fists. “Could you please give me just a dollar or two, sir? I can walk down to the gas sta-”

“Please shut her up.”

“Gladly.” Roderick’s hand clamps down on the back of her neck and she automatically goes stiff, but allows him to steer her harshly out of the room. She’s shoved into the kitchen, stumbling a few steps before catching herself against the counter.

“I’m sorry,” she breathes. “I’ll go to my room. You won’t hear another sound out of me the whole night, I promise.”

“Yes, both those things are true.” He yanks open a drawer and pulls out a roll of duct tape. Kamaria’s empty stomach turns a somersault. “But not until I’m done with you.”

“Please…please don’t.” She doesn’t know why she bothers trying. It’s never stopped him before.

He huffs a laugh. “I don’t think you know how to be quiet. But don’t worry, this will help.”

The sound of the tape ripping from the roll makes her flinch bodily, but she bites down on her tongue and refuses to let the I can be quiet, I swear I will! escape. She doesn’t back away when he comes for her, either, just clenches the edge of the countertop until her knuckles ache and squeezes her eyes shut, allowing him to smooth the tape across her lips.

He doesn’t stop there, though. He pulls it behind her head, loudly unrolling more and more until it’s wound twice around, tight and unmoving, pulling uncomfortably at her cheeks and plastering her hair to the back of her head. Kamaria just keeps holding on to the counter and gritting her teeth, desperate to keep the tears at bay as long as he’s there.

“Now you may go to your room.” He chucks the roll back into the drawer and slams it shut. “And next time maybe you think twice before interrupting your dad’s work.”

She nods minutely, prying her hands from the counter so that she can turn to leave, trying not to move her head at all because it feels like she can’t, like her hair or her skin might rip if she does.

“Oh, and kid…” He points at her when she stops, looking at him out of the corner of her eye. “No one takes that off but him or me, got it?”

Another tiny nod. He waves her away, and she continues her slow, careful trek to the basement. It’s only once she’s sitting on her bed in the corner, knees pulled up to her chin, that she allows the tears burning her eyelids to fall.

She quickly regrets that, though. Even though her nose is uncovered, she can’t open her mouth to gasp in air between sobs, and it feels like she’s suffocating. That feeling only makes her panicked, which makes breathing even harder. Kamaria pounds her fist into the bed. She’s angry at herself - for not being able to get her emotions under control, for doing something so stupid like approaching her father when he and Roderick were working to start with. She knows that’s the worst time. What kind of work they’re doing, she has no idea, but she’s fairly certain by now it isn’t legal. But she knows better than to interrupt it. She was just so hungry.

It’s not like this is the first time or the longest time she’s gone without food, though. This is normal life for her, has been for almost three years now - off and on, at least. Not all of the foster homes let her starve. There was always something else bad about them, though. Even the ones she thought would be good for once ended up bad in the end, if for no other reason than they kicked her out without warning after only a few weeks or months.

When her actual, biological father showed up out of nowhere and wanted to take her in, she thought those days were over. She thought she’d finally have a real family again for the first time after losing her mom.

But it’s just as bad here as everywhere else. Especially when Roderick is around. Her father isn’t nearly as cruel, just neglectful and impatient. Yes, he hits her sometimes, but it’s always done out of anger. Roderick is the one who seems to actually enjoy punishing her.

It takes some time, but she finally gets a hold of herself, scrubbing all the tears away with her sleeve and forcing deep breaths through her nose. She has homework to do, she can’t sit here feeling sorry for herself all night.

Concentrating on school with a deep pit yawning in her center is always difficult. Concentrating on school with duct tape wrapped around her head proves even more of a challenge. It shouldn’t affect anything, really, but it’s distracting, pulling her attention to the discomfort of it over and over again. She keeps wanting to pick at the edge, but doesn’t want to be accused of trying to loosen it.

There’s a math test tomorrow, though, so studying is a necessity. She stares at the numbers and letters until they’re swimming across the page, jolting out of her misery when the dryer buzzes. The clothes are warm against the chill of the basement. She holds the pile in her lap as she folds and continues to study.

At one point, strangely, the new guy at school crosses her mind. She wonders how he’s going to do on the test, if he’d been learning the same things in the private school he transferred from or if this is all new for him.

Someone like him probably has all the luck in the world, though. He’s probably already learned everything and will ace the test, no problem.

Eventually, she’s so exhausted she can’t stay awake any longer. She falls asleep on top of her covers, algebra book still open next to her and folded clothes sitting neatly at the foot of the bed, despite her empty stomach and despite the tape on her face.

It doesn’t last, of course. She jerks awake some time later, groaning as she rolls over, clutching her stomach. It hurts. And the tape is suffocating, making her skin crawl, pulling at her hair. She needs it off. Kamaria digs her fingernails into the top edge, panting, half ready to just rip it off and deal with the consequences later. Maybe she could sneak into the kitchen and replace it in the morning before her father can notice.

But she doesn’t. She’s too afraid of what he or Roderick might do to her. Instead she sits up, scrubs at her eyes with the heels of her hands, and goes back to studying until she can’t stay awake once again.

Early in the morning, she wakes from another fitful doze to see sunlight streaking through the tiny window at the ceiling. Catapulting up off the bed, she takes the stairs two at a time, but slows enough at the top to open and shut the door quietly. She doesn’t need to get in any more trouble for making too much noise.

The clock on the stove says it’s just past six. She has no idea what time her father will leave, though, or if he already has. Thankfully, a quick peek out the front window shows his car still in the driveway, and not Roderick’s.

Kamaria lingers there for a moment, allowing her heart to slow back down, swaying slightly. The abrupt switch from sleep to cardio after very little rest all night is hitting hard. But she gathers herself and heads back to her room, slowly getting dressed for school while keeping an ear out for footsteps upstairs. She skips the shower, not wanting to miss him and unsure what the water would do to the tape, anyway, and gets in a few more minutes of studying before finally going back upstairs with her backpack and shoes on.

It’s getting close to time for the bus to arrive. If he doesn’t come out soon…she’ll have to miss school. She can’t go like this. If she skips, the school will call him, and he’ll be furious when he gets home tonight. But the only other option is to cut the tape off herself. She knows where the scissors are, could take care of it easily. But which would make him angrier? Cutting off the tape, or skipping school? What if he tells Roderick about the tape, and he’s the one to punish her for it, since he was the one to tell her not to take it off?

That would be worse. Missing school has to be the better option. Even though…wait, that means missing the math test, too. She can’t afford to miss the math test, she’s already failing. She doesn’t know what her father would think about her failing a class, he doesn’t seem interested in her education at all other than making sure she goes to school, and that’s probably just so he doesn’t get in trouble with the government. But she doubts he’d like it if she failed. She wouldn’t like it if she failed, not after she’s tried so hard to make it, not when it would give the bullies even more ammo to torment her.

And somewhere deep inside her, she’s still holding on to the vague, impossible hope that she’ll be able to go to college someday. To study what, she has no idea, but it seems like the best way to get out on her own, to not be stuck with her father trying to force her into his criminal activities or working some minimum wage job in this same town with him.

It’ll never happen. Her grades haven’t been good enough for that since she first went into foster care. But if she fails algebra, it’s definitely not going to happen.

She’s practically shaking with anxiety, trapped between the two choices and unable to determine which is worse. Her eyes are drawn to the drawer with the scissors inside over and over again, but every inch of her body screams against such deliberate disobedience. Maybe they’ll let her make up the test? There’s a really good chance that she’s going to get a horrible grade on it, anyway, so missing it might not even make that much of a difference.

Of course she could also go and knock on his door, but after last night that seems like the worst idea of all.

Somehow, miraculously, something actually goes right for once and she’s saved from having to choose any of it. Her father’s door opens and he comes down the hall, straight into the kitchen to make himself coffee. As he pulls a mug from the cabinet, he glances over at Kamaria.

She looks at him with wide, pleading eyes over the duct tape, cuts her gaze to the front door in an attempt to convey the urgency of the situation, then gets nervous and stares down at the floor, instead.

“I suppose it’s time for you to leave, and you’d like that off.”

She nods without looking up.

“Come here.”

His tone offers no room for hesitation. She crosses the room as quickly as possible, stopping a safe distance in front of him.

“Have you learned your lesson?”

Another nod. It’s nerve-racking not to be able to add “sir”, but that’s not really an option.

He sighs as if this whole thing is such an inconvenience to him, reaching into his pocket for his knife. “Fine. Hold still.”

There’s no need to tell her. She has no desire to be cut with that knife, and every desire for the tape to come off as quickly and easily as possible. Squeezing her eyes shut, she braces herself for the pain, trying to take deep breaths through her nose.

He isn’t gentle with it at all, of course. Her head is shaken back and forth as he tears through the layers with the knife. After a pause for him to return the knife to his pocket, he grabs onto the torn edge and yanks, hard. It feels like several layers of skin must go with it. Kamaria grits her teeth tightly, trying to hold in the whimper that wants to escape, and wishes that she could tuck her lips in to protect them. It’s no use, though. He rips the tape off of them, then off the other cheek, but leaves the rest hanging from her hair.

“You can deal with the rest.” He turns back to his coffee.

She’s been dismissed. She retreats across the room, trying not to panic over how she’s going to get the tape out of her already disastrous hair before the bus shows up. There’s no time to go strand by strand or even little sections, so she’s forced to yank at it just as harshly as he had, wincing at the pricks of pain all over her skull.

A reflection flashes across the ceiling. The bus is here. With one final pull, she removes the last of the tape - and another handful of hair - and quickly wads it up and stuffs it into the pocket of her backpack.

“Thank you, sir,” she murmurs, quietly opening and closing the door before taking off across the yard to catch the bus..

The whole ride is miserable, not that there’s anything new about that. Her face is sticky and raw, her head hurts, she’s exhausted, her stomach is trying to flip itself inside out, and the usual boys on the bus are at their usual games.

“What happened to your face, freak?”

“You look even worse than usual.”

“Is that red all over your face your attempt at wearing makeup?”

“Don’t you know, she doesn’t have a mom to teach her how to wear makeup.”

“Even if she did, it wouldn’t help that face.”

Someone pulls her hair, jerking her already tender head back, and she comes so close to turning around and punching him. She can’t, though. It would get blamed solely on her, she’d get detention or suspension, and her father would kill her.

So she sits in silence and does her best to ignore them, just like always. Wishing that she could be like the other kids on the bus who plug in their ear buds and tune out the world, but if her father can’t even be bothered to buy groceries, he’s certainly never going to buy her a phone or ear buds.

First period passes in a blur. Kamaria finds herself unable to focus on much of anything, much to her chagrin. All she can think about is how hungry she is, and how much she wants to just curl up in bed and never leave…when she’s not completely zoned out, that is.

She manages to stumble to history class, glad, at least, that it doesn’t matter whether she pays attention in this class or not. She’d lay her head down on her desk if she wasn’t afraid of getting in trouble for it. Instead, she assumes her usual pose of propping her chin on her hand with her hair falling around her face, only with no notebook beneath her this time.

The new guy strolls in just before the bell sounds, sliding into his seat. “Hey.” He pulls out his book, then leans over toward her. “You ever eat that Nutella? What’d you think?”

She doesn’t answer.

The class is over far too soon. Kamaria pulls herself out of her stupor, forcing heavy limbs to cooperate so that she can grab her backpack and stand up. As soon as she straightens, though, her vision tunnels. She feels herself falling as if from a distance, and vaguely hears a muffled voice shout, “Whoa!”

Then she’s on the tile floor, staring up at fluorescent lights and the new guy’s face. “Hey, I think she’s back. Can you hear me?”

There’s a clatter of footsteps and the teacher appears above her, too. “Miss Greaves, can you hear us?” she practically shouts.

It’s not the first time she’s ever passed out. It’s still disorienting, though, and it takes her a moment to realize that her head is resting in the guy’s lap. Immediately she starts trying to push herself up, to get away from him.

“Don’t try to get up too fast!” he cautions, pressing her shoulder back down with one hand.

“Don’ touch me,” she mumbles, swatting at his hand. A little louder, she declares, “‘m fine. Sorry. Won’t happen again.”

He pulls away, which would be surprising if she had the brain power to pay any attention to it. “Why are you apologizing for passing out?”

Because she made a commotion. Because people had to stop what they should have been doing to deal with her. And while she knows, logically, that won’t get her punished like at home, it’s an automatic reaction to feel guilty for it.

She rolls sideways off his legs, and he lets her go with a murmured, “Take it easy.” She’s fairly certain she’s not going to drop again, though, despite feeling like absolute crap.

“I’m fine,” she repeats. “Gotta get to my next class.”

“No no no.” The teacher wags her finger like Kamaria is a child or a dog. “You’re going to see the nurse, young lady. Mr. Skovgaard, would you mind escorting her there?”

“I can do that.”

No, seriously? The last thing she needs is the rich kid walking her to the nurse’s station. “I don’t need the nurse or an escort.”

“Don’t be obstinate, Miss Greaves. You have to go see the nurse after an incident like this. Just cooperate and go with him.”

He jumps to his feet and holds out a hand to her, which she ignores, using her desk to pull herself up, instead. The room spins around her once, then settles into place.

“Thank you, Mr. Skovgaard.”

As they start to leave the room, she can see him roll his eyes, mumbling something under his breath about Skovgaard.

“You sure you’re okay? You can lean on me if you need to. Or I can carry you.”

She shoots him a sideways glare. “No.” What is this guy’s deal? No one else wants to have anything to do with her unless they’re bullying her.

He shrugs. “It’s not like you weigh much. Oh by the way, you do know where the nurse’s station is, right? Because I definitely don’t.”

Kamaria just sighs and keeps walking. It isn’t far, and pretty soon she’s sitting on the nurse’s table. The woman looks like she’d rather be anywhere but here - a sentiment she agrees on.

“Did you hit your head when you fell?”

“No,” the new guy pipes in, “she didn’t. She would’ve, but luckily I was standing right there and caught her.”

Great. So that’s why her head was in his lap…and why he said she didn’t weigh much.

“Do you have any other symptoms?”

She shakes her head.

“Did you eat breakfast this morning?”

She looks straight ahead, purposely avoiding eye contact with anyone. “No.”

“Probably a blood sugar drop, then. You should always try to eat a good breakfast in the mornings.” Crossing the room, the nurse opens the door of a freezer. “What flavor do you want?”

Kamaria’s mind blanks on what she could possibly be talking about. She stares at her for a moment, trying to come up with a response, then finally asks, “What?”

The nurse sighs. “What flavor popsicle? It should help get your blood sugar up until you get to lunch.”

Lunch. Right. Which she also won’t be able to eat, because there still won’t be any money in her account.

She still doesn’t know how to answer the question, even though she knows what the actual question is now. Popsicles. She used to eat those, on occasion, when her mom would splurge. All she can think of is the grape flavor that she didn’t like. Which ones did she like? It’s been so long.

“Um. Orange?” There’s an orange one, right?

The nurse reaches in and tears a plastic package away, thrusting the orange popsicle at her. “Eat this, then you can go.”

Kamaria fumbles with the packaging. “Can’t I go now? I need to be in class.”

“No, you need to eat that first. I’ll give you a note to give to your teacher.”

She scowls and starts eating, trying her best to bite into the popsicle as soon as she can despite the way it freezes her gums. She’s missing biology. That’s one of the last classes she needs to be missing. Her mind is torn between panic over it, and the memories trying to tug her backwards in time.

This was her favorite flavor. It tastes like summer afternoons on the front porch with her mom.

“May I have a popsicle?” rich kid asks, practically batting his eyes at the nurse.

“You can go back to class,” she replies sternly, pointing at the door.

He sighs. “Fine. Guess I’ll see you in math class, Curls.”

Why does she have a nickname now? No one since her mom has ever given her a nickname unless it was something insulting, like “freak”.

She gnaws her way through the popsicle, not stopping to let herself enjoy it and potentially get lost in the past, desperately wishing it was something actually filling. It does help her feel a bit more alive, though it’s hard to say how long it will last.

As soon as she’s done, she gets the note from the nurse and rushes through the halls to class, ignoring the stares and barely concealed laughter as she slides into her seat. The guy at the desk beside her leans over and whispers, “Don’t expect me to catch you if you decide to go all damsel in distress again.”

Of course this would become more ammo for people to tease her with.

Leaning over, she opens her backpack to pull out her textbook, but something else catches her eye. In the side pocket, where a water bottle should go, is another packet of Nutella.

2 notes · View notes

duhragonball · 2 years ago

Text

Dragon Ball GT 48

✨GT Stands For Guilt Trip✨

Well, we finally made it to the home stretch. This is the Shadow Dragons Saga, the last arc in Dragon Ball GT. And it’s pretty fucking terrible, let’s make that clear up front. I was willing to be diplomatic about GT when I started. I was prepared to wade through the nonsense of the early episodes, and I let my interest in Tuffle lore keep me engaged with the Baby Saga, and I barely remembered the Super 17 Saga, so I powered through that one by sheer curiosity.

But the Shadow Dragons Saga sucks ass. I say this with zero respect to anyone who worked on this anime. This arc is like watching an oil spill happen. This arc is like the time I found a dead bird in the vent duct of my dryer. I’d rather go to the dentist than watch this crap, because at least it wouldn’t take as long.

I’ll be honest with you, dear reader, liveblogging GT has really worn me down. I wanted to cover this one for the sake of completion, and so I could have a handy reference to each episode in the future, and I also thought it could be a lot of fun to critique the show in a playful sort of way. But I didn’t take into account just how awful this show really was, or the mental toll it would take on me to spend so much time on it.

So from here on out, I’m just gonna augur in and get this over with. Strap yourselves in, because we’re about to see quite possibly the worst Dragon Ball saga ever made. I’m not sure if the individual episodes are worse than the ones we’ve seen so far, but the arc as a whole is a master class in how to piss away your audience’s goodwill.

✨"Good" "Ideas", Poorly Executed✨

Oh, where do I even begin? Okay, so when Dr. Gero opened up that portal between Hell and Earth, it caused all these disasters across the Earth, on top of the damage done by Super 17 and Gero’s allies. Dragon Team decided to summon Shenron to wish away all the death and destruction, but the Dragon Balls were cracked, and when they called Shenron, a bunch of smoke billowed out of the Balls, and a new, shady-looking Dragon emerged.

King Kai warned Goku that it wasn’t Shenron, but the dragon itself seemed to identify as the same Shenron that Dragon Team had used in the past. I’m pretty sure it’s the same guy, just changed beyond recognition. Anyway, this is sometimes referred to as “Smoke Shenron”, and he never actually does anything in this form. He just tells the good guys that he’s not going to be their “lapdog” any more, and then he takes the Dragon Balls and splits himself into seven parts, each one taking a Dragon Ball in a different direction.

One annoying part of this is how no one can agree on who’s going to explain this situation. King Kai starts, but then the Elder Supreme Kai cuts him off, but then he’s so furious about it that Kibitoshin has to explain it instead, and then Dende and Mr. Popo show up to add their thoughts. So I’m just going to give you the summary without getting into who says what.

During the Majin Buu Saga, Kibitoshin heard about the Earthling’s plans to use the Dragon Balls, but he seemed to have no idea what they were. Later, the Elder Kai caught wind of it, and expressed disapproval. According to him, the Dragon Balls were a special dispensation to Namekians, and should only be used sparingly. The idea of the Earth having its own set was bothersome to him, and he seemed uncomfortable about using them to undo the damage of the Buu crisis, even when he was one of the people resurrected by the wishes. In Dragon Ball Z, it sounded like he was just objecting to the whole thing on moral grounds.

But in this episode, we learn that his warnings we based on very real, very serious dangers. Each time you use the Dragon Balls, you introduce “minus energy” into them. This arc really lays it on thick with the terms “plus energy” and “minus energy”, so get used to that. I guess the deal is that it takes plus energy to grant a wish, so each time the Dragon Balls get used, they lose plus and gain minus? Fuck it, who cares? The point is that if they get used too often, the minus energy builds up inside the Dragon Balls, until they can’t contain it anymore, and this is what led to the events of this episode. The next time Shenron is summoned, he comes out looking all weird and instead of granting wishes, he buggers off to start destroying the world.

In theory, the Dragon Balls can safely release this pent-up minus energy after each wish, but it takes about a hundred years for that to happen. This is why the Dragon Balls scatter after each use. By the time anyone can find all seven of them again, centuries would have passed, and the minus energy from the previous wish would be gone.

However, that natural cooldown period got hijacked when Bulma invented the Dragon Radar. Thanks to her, the Dragon Balls could be gathered much more easily. Hell, just look at the last episode. Goku, Trunks, and Pan went to gather the Balls at the tail end of Episode 47 and it didn’t take any time at all. So over the past forty years, they’ve been making tons and tons of wishes, and that’s overloaded the Dragon Balls.

The danger now is that Shenron will destroy the Earth. I think there was a line about how it’s been cut off from the rest of the universe, but I’m not sure if I interpreted it correctly. There’s also some concern that Shenron might continue his rampage and destroy the rest of the universe as well. So Goku resolves to hunt down Shenron and kick his ass, which will presumably restore things to normal.

Okay, so that’s the premise. Here’s why it sucks.

1) This is just a retread of the Black Star Dragon Balls. I’ve already explained my gripes about the BS Dragon Balls, but the short version is that there was a prototype set of Dragon Balls hidden away for centuries, and using them can destroy the whole world, and Mr. Popo knew about them the whole time and never said anything. The BS Dragon Balls were written out of the story in Episode 40, so now we’ve returned to the classic Red Star Dragon Balls we’ve always known, and suddenly they turn out to have the same problem, where they’re too dangerous to use. So it’s not even original.

2) Why didn’t anyone say anything about this until now? This is the worst kind of retcon, the kind where new lore is introduced that doesn’t even remotely fit into the established history. As this episode states, the gang have been using the Dragon Balls for decades. During that time, they met Kami, who created the Dragon Balls, and other characters like Mr. Popo, Guru, Moori, and Dende, who know a great deal about creating and maintaining Dragon Balls. Throughout Dragon Ball and DBZ, characters will pose questions about the kinds of wishes they can make, and what rules apply, and the experts will mull it over and give clear, concise answers. On occasion, Shenron himself will counsel the characters who summon him, explaining the limitations of his powers and making helpful suggestions for how to word their wishes.

The point I’m making here is that the Dragon Balls are extremely user-friendly. The hard part is gathering them all together, but once you’ve done that, there’s plenty of guidance on how to use them and what not to do. And at no point did anyone ever bring up the dangers of overuse. And yet, when Episode 48 comes along, you have King Kai, Kibitoshin, the Elder Kai, and Mr. Popo all going “Yeah, you assholes blew it. You shouldn’t have used them so much.”

3) If the Dragon Balls need 100 years to reset, then why do they work the way they do? From the start, the Dragon Balls turn into stone for a year, after which they change back into orange crystal orbs and they can be used again. This was written into the story to explain why the characters can’t just constantly re-gather the Dragon Balls for continuous wishing. But it’s implied that this is a cooldown period to reset them for the next use. This is further clarified when Dende reactivates the Dragon Balls in the Cell Saga. They ask him to upgrade the Dragon Balls to grant three wishes instead of just one, and he can do it, but it means adjusting the “wishing power”. Shenron can’t be made to grant 800 wishes in one go, because there’s a limit to what he can do in one summoning. Porunga seems to have far greater capacity than Shenron, which is why he can resurrect people multiple times, restore whole planets, and always grant three wishes every 130 days. But I assume this is because he’s built different.

So there’s already a lot of logistical considerations built into the Dragon Ball concept. And yet this episode suggests that the 1-year cooldown is only one percent of the time the Dragon Balls actually need to reset. If that were true, then why didn’t Kami or Dende fix it so they turn to stone for 100 years instead of just one?

Also, this episode mentions how Dende upgraded the Dragon Balls to grant more wishes, which only compounded the problem. Well if Dende knew that was an issue, why the hell did he do it? And if he didn’t know, then how is he qualified to make and maintain Dragon Balls in the first place? Dende doesn’t have much to say in this episode, which doesn’t make any fucking sense, because he should know more about Dragon Balls than anyone else in the show. He’s a Dragon Type Namekian! He literally studied the art of making Dragon Balls! That’s why they recruited him to become the new Kami of Earth! Moori said all of this when he recommended Dende to Goku!

It really, really annoys me how this series keeps deferring to Mr. Popo for all of the Dragon Ball lore. Popo is an attendant to the reigning Kami of Earth. He’s not a Namekian, and everything he knows about Namekian culture and Dragon Balls, he learned from Kami, a Namekian. Dende is a Namekian. Everything he learned about Namekian culture and Dragong Balls, he learned on Namek. He knew all about this stuff before he came to Earth, and then he kept studying it afterward. And unlike Kami, Dende didn’t lose his memories of his people.

If this Shadow Dragon nonsense made any sense at all, then Dende should be the one explaining it to the others. Instead, they’re all explaining it to him, like he’s some idiot who never knew how any of this worked.

Seriously, how the fuck would Mr. Popo know about an evil dragon destroying another planet? He’s never left Earth. What would he know about any of this? I could see Dende reading about something like this in some book of Namekian legends, but not Popo. Hey, speaking of Dende...

4) Why don’t they just kill Dende? Everyone talks about this Shenron problem like it’s irreversible, but Shenron’s not invincible. King Piccolo killed him with a ki blast, and he’s a weakling compared to most of the characters in this show. But even if Shenron got stronger from all this minus energy, and killing Shenron isn’t an option, then why don’t they just kill Dende?

This has always been the way it works. When Nappa killed Piccolo, Kami died too, and the Dragon Balls were deactivated. When Guru died, the Namekian Dragon Balls were deactivated. When Kami and Piccolo fused into one, the Earth’s Dragon Balls were deactivated. According to GT, their fusion somehow reactivated the Black Star Dragon Balls, which is why Piccolo allowed himself to die in Episode 40, so they would never endanger anyone again. So it’s clear that the people making GT understood this concept.

Well then, the Earth’s Dragon Balls are under the stewardship of Dende now, so if he dies, they should stop working. This was a major plot point in the Buu Saga, where they needed to keep Dende alive in order to wish everyone back to life after Buu was defeated. Kill Dende, kill Shenron.

I’m not saying they should have actually gone through with this, but why doesn’t anyone bring it up? Or, a more humane option would be to break that sculpture of Shenron that Mr. Popo made. I’m pretty sure Kami and Dende always had the power to turn Shenron off when it suited their purposes. We never saw that put into practice, but the pecking order was always very clear. Shenron is not a “god” or a “mysterious legend”. He’s a magic familiar under the control of Dende. Shenron can’t do shit without Dende to allow it.

5) What about the Namekian Dragon Balls? If this is a problem on Earth, then why has it never been an issue on Namek, where the Dragon Balls can be used much more frequently? Do they just know how to avoid the problem, or do they wait 100 years between wishes? I ask this because we’ve seen Porunga grant a dozen wishes in about as many years. Oh, and in GT, they used Porunga again to restore the Earth after it exploded in Episode 40. So the Namekian Dragon Balls have been overused at least as badly as the Earth’s Dragon Balls. So where’s their Shadow Dragon problem?

But maybe I’m being too hard on this story. Yeah, there’s a lot of plot holes to this, but ultimately it comes down to a pretty cool angle. The final boss of Dragon Ball is the Dragon himself. Goku has to fight the Dragon to save the universe, and the Dragon has split into seven, which means Goku has to throw down with seven badass monsters, like some kind of awesome fantasy martial arts gauntlet. Right?

Right?

You’re shaking your head, are you saying that the Shadow Dragons are not badass monsters? Well that can’t be right, I’m sure that.... Oh. Oh.

6) The Shadow Dragons suck ass. Goku tracks down the first one and he looks like a joke. Then a rock falls on his toe and he cries out in pain, revealing that he doesn’t just look like a joke, he is a joke.

This is played off like some sort of “appearances can be deceiving” trope, where the moral is not to underestimate your foe. But that’s really not what this series needed at this stage. You kind of knew that the Shadow Dragons would get increasingly difficult with each one, so the very first one would be the weakest, but this is ridiculous. By the end, the last three give Super Saiyan 4 Goku a hard time, but the first four Shadow Dragons are total chumps. They play their tricks and give Goku some trouble, but not because of any physical strength they possess. And then you finally get to the “serious” Dragons at the end, and the fights suck, because GT is terrible at presenting fight scenes.

And this is what makes the arc so damned infuriating. The Saiyans Saga from Z worked because it opened with a devastating conflict--Goku dies, for goodness’ sake!-- and then it promises an even more terrible enemy will appear in one year. So the heroes train and the story winds on and the arc relies on this suspense. What are the two Saiyans going to do when they get here? How strong could they be? Can anything stop them? Then they finally arrive and the first thing they do is destroy a whole city. The second thing they do is kill several major characters. After it’s over, Goku spends the next several episodes in the hospital, because Vegeta broke every bone in his body! The Saiyans Saga did not fuck around, and the reason it’s such a classic is that it delivered on the hype.

The Shadow Dragons Saga is the polar opposite to this. This arc opens with dire warnings about seven monsters who will surely destroy the whole world, and it blunders the execution in every possible way. The last Shadow Dragon is the only one that really matters, and he throws a clock at Goku, just to give you an idea of how “intense” that battle is. You watch this garbage hoping that each new Shadow Dragon will redeem the disappointments that came before, and then you finally look up and notice that there are no more. All of the Shadow Dragons came and went, and they all sucked.

✨Positivity Page✨

There was a montage of all the wishes made over the years, so I guess that was pretty nice. I’ll be honest, it’s gonna be really hard to find anything nice to say about these next few episodes.

✨Is This Episode Worse than "The Roaming Lake"?✨

Yes. It is worse. The Roaming Lake is pretty much guaranteed to make a clean sweep of this thing. All hope is lost.

One major problem with this episode is that very little actually gets done. Most of the runtime is spent infodumping the Shadow Dragon concept, and I think I’ve already made my opinion on that very clear. They spent a lot of time explaining the thing, but they managed to avoid every question that I had about it.

The rest of the episode shows lots of pointless scenes of Shadow Dragons flying around the world, choosing their bases of operations and selecting their powers. One of them flies into a volcano and he’s going to be their fire guy. That sort of thing. Then Goku remembers he forgot the Dragon Radar, so Pan offers to let him have Giru, but only if she can tag along. Then they find Haze Shenron, who looks like the love child of a frog and a moldy potato.

✨The Blade Braxton Memorial Haiku*✨

Yeah, this show gets worse.

Don’t worry, though. We still have

Plenty of Giru.

#dragon ball #dragon ball gt #really sucks #2023dbapocryphaliveblog #*haiku does not come with crown as illustrated #goku #pan #trunks #giru #dende #mr popo #chi chi #videl #haze shenron

36 notes · View notes

bullet-prooflove · 2 years ago

Text

Creative Process

The lovely @mariamariquinha�� asked about my creative process so here it is! This is a long ass post by the way.

Sidebar:

When it comes to developing characters, even reader ones I usually add a little something in there to make more individualised and it kind of creates an anchor point in my head so it’s easy to slip into them. I also think it brings an additional layer to the character and makes them more realistic.

A few examples of this:

- Joe Velasco’s reader usually has at least one tattoo, a lotus on the back of their neck and one on their wrist. I kind of envision them a little spiritual and I feel the lotus flower kind of plays into that. (To be clear I don’t have this as a tattoo)

- Horacio Carrillo’s reader usually has a scar on her throat close to the jugular from clashing with Quica. This serves a few purposes, it shows she is also on the front lines, it reminds Horacio of how close he was too losing her, and I feel it’s realistic that you would have some scars if you were in that type of job. (I also don’t have this scar)

Sometimes I do include tiny details from my life, like experiences or things I’ve encountered, like the way someone’s scent clings to a scarf if they lend it to you and stuff like that. I feel like it helps to add more realism to the work and it’s something readers can identify with.

Back to my creative process, it kinda goes like this:

I get an idea – Usually from a prompt, or a song, or just a random thought I wake up with. I usually have my best ideas in the shower.

One way it works is:

I write the first draft on Google Notes if I am out and about or on Word if I am at the laptop. When studying for my Masters we learned the importance of leaving the first draft for a little while so that you can come back to it with fresh eyes. While I am doing that I am usually working on first drafts for other ideas so by the time I write up the original piece I have fresh eyes.

All of my rough drafts are colour coded by character as you can see, so it’s easy for me to tell what or who I am working with when I am in certain moods.

If I am writing a series, I try to write it up in one big go so I have a good idea of where it’s heading.

On the flipside:

Sometimes when I write a first draft on my laptop it’s really vivid and is almost perfect because I have had a really clear vision of where I want to go and what the piece is about. All it takes is a final flourish and read through and it’s ready to go. (This is pretty rare)

Once I’ve written a rough draft or had an idea, I haven’t had a chance to work on I pop it on my Ideas Trello board:

Each idea has a Gif or image attached to it so I can see which char it relates to as well as a working title and a colour coded banner with the fics current status. This also helps me keep track of where I am when I am writing a series as you can see.

Initially I had the goal of publishing one fic a week so there wasn’t much pressure when I was getting back into Tumblr. So, when I finished one, I would just schedule it for the next week. However, since I was getting the bus more because my job role changed I had more time to write rough drafts so I ended up stepping up my productivity and started posting more regularly. Now I am scheduling content daily for weeks in advance.

I keep track of what is going out and when by making a schedule board on Trello. This also allows me to make sure that there isn’t too much of the same character booked around the same time. I try to space it out a bit more.

I also have inspo boards, so when I see something for a certain char like a GIF or a song, I add it to the boards:

I know this whole thing probably looks like I have no life at all, but the organisation actually really helps me keep on top of things!

I’m a busy person who works 4 days a week and runs their own social media business on the side. I’m married and go on dates with my husband, I also have boxing and sewing classes once a week as well as family obligations.

I have had to slow down over the past few weeks because I have developed prolonged COVID.

The key for me is not to feel guilty if I don’t write. I’m pretty self-reflective and know when I am over encumbered myself so sometimes, I take a step back and just rest for a few days. Taking that time really helps to refresh my mind and I always come back better for it.

I know this works for me and won’t work for everybody but if you have any qs feel free to drop me a line.

#writing process #ask #wow this is a long one #wriiting #writing #writer

27 notes · View notes

auspex · 2 years ago

Note

2, 29, 38 for porphyria and 13, 40, 50 for mark!

Let;s goooooo these were sooo fun

Do they wear perfume/cologne? If so what scents do they prefer?

Followers correct me if I’m wrong but I imagine perfume was a little bit of a luxury item back then? But Porphyria was middle class so I imagine she could afford it sometimes :) I think she would keep it simple, as most perfume was back then, with floral scents. She's on the trail right now so actually wears it more often cause its hard to bathe.

If they were real would you be friends with them?

I’m not, for better or worse, friends with people who are older than me often. Or many friends in general. Cause I talk about my interests a lot and . yeah. Let’s say she was not a mage and just happened to work in my office or something. In which case I think we would get along great. Because I love to work with positive people. I still rarely hang out with people outside of work but I could definitely see it.

If she was just like, transported here with time shenanigans and she identified me as someone closely connected to her fate (cause i imagine I would look SOOO weird to her, she'd be like why the fuck is my fate connected to this random future person) and so wanted to get to know me, I would be nice to her oc because like. I do know she is a positive helpful person though I would be wary of her trying to look into my mind and stuff cause I know she would : ( but then she would read my mind and jesus it would get complicated there. That would be a whole story. Existential crisis on her part. And mine.

What are their dreams like? Do they have any recurring dreams/nightmares?

Loaded question because her cabal now has shared dreams when they dream and we are figuring out how the fuck those work. I think they have seen visions of Atlantis, which is a time where everyone could do magic and was a much better world. So I guess her dreams are very very vivid. She’s had prophetic dreams before too : ) I don’t think she has nightmares but if she did I bet they would be signs. Sorry this was a short answer. We are just still learning about her dreams :)

For Mark..

Do they enjoy poetry?

Answered, but as a bonus I looked at some Roman poems and picked one I think he would like but would rather Die than tell anyone he liked it. It's about unattainable women but I think Mark would relate it to getting a crush on a straight guy lol.

Thus it will be; slender arrows are lodged in my heart, and Love vexes the chest that it has seized Shall I surrender or stir up the sudden flame by fighting it? I will surrender – a burden becomes light when it is carried willingly.

sic erit; haeserunt tenues in corde sagittae, et possessa ferus pectora versat Amor. Cedimus, an subitum luctando accendimus ignem? cedamus! leve fit, quod bene fertur, onus.

Mark is sooo silly <3

If they found a sword in a stone would they try to pull it out? How would they react to being able to pull it out or not?

He's way too paranoid and so is his coterie to just pull it out. He would prob have a coterie member w sense the unseen, Rose, look at it, and tell him if its magic. If its not magic, I think he'd let another coterie member take it cause he isn't good at melee combat and would think he'd hurt himself. If it WAS magic, ough another sidequest to figure out wtf that is before anyone touches it....

What is your favorite thing about them?

I LOVEEEE how he loves humanity but is SOOOO secret with it. Deep Mark lore. I do love how he is gay too and that's the angst in the story i am the most Normal about but if we are talking personality traits that's definetely it. I do like his stupid snark too though. And that he still wears glasses despite not needing htem. And his utter devotion to sampson that he's not even fully aware of. ough. ok let me stop Ranting about things I like.

So to focus on that yeah I love that he isn't human and doesn't have any other kindred he feels like he could talk to about this but it bothers him a LOT how even the nicer kindred don't respect humanity at all. he has no outlet for this. Its not a big deal for now but could totally become an important thing at any point. <3 Monster loving humanity <3 monster not accepting he isnt part of humanity <3 ough.

#mark vtm oc #porphyria mage oc

4 notes · View notes

readwing · 1 year ago

Text

It has occurred to me that aside from off-handed tags, vague references, and the occasional poll result that I don’t really share-share stuff about me online.

So allow me to break that streak for a moment to gush about my job:

I am, without being too specific, a Fancy Data Accountant. Let me explain.

I am not a CPA and I did not go to school for this, but I did take a variety of loosely related classes when I was in college. These classes + the slow grind of being An Employee During the Recession + a general thirst for knowledge + good organizational skills = a solid understanding of business fundamentals and a willingness to learn Accounts Receivable (A/R) and Accounts Payable (A/P) without fucking it up.

If any of you younguns don’t know - A/R and A/P are positions that are always in desperate need of smart people willing to learn. If you add to this even a basic knowledge of General Ledger accounting then congratulations you are 95% more competent than most of the people currently doing that job. The reason for this being that for small businesses, it’s usually a filler job. It’s usually passed on to like, whoever seems to have the most time leftover to do it.

Receptionists and owner’s wives. Lots of times it’s those people. And lots of times, they do not want to being doing that job either.

And since accountants tend to want to actually make good money and pay off their degrees, they also do not want those jobs! They’re mostly decently paying jobs, higher than entry level for sure, but they’re not CPA-paying jobs.

So there ends up being a knowledge gap between the people who are inputting all the financial data and the actual accountants who really really would prefer it if the data was better organized. Accountant and Tax Prep people, in fact, tend to need this so much that they sometimes hire people to work for them internally who can help business owners pretty things up so the data is fucking usable.

Enter me.

So I bounce around for a bit doing my thing - which is Easy, it’s so Easy that the only challenge I get is coming into a Messed Up set of books and fixing it. But then at a certain point…they are fixed. So what now?

Well my what now was ‘you know, this business (that I was working for at the time) has a stupid amount of manual input data. Not only that, but the data that’s being input is only a fraction of what we could be using to analyze and make decisions, and that’s because the industry relies on third party software for its A/R but a completely different software for its A/P. Since the two don’t talk to each other, we’re stuck relying on truncated reports out of our A/R that are somehow both watered down and crowded with unnecessary noise. No bueno!’

So bored little me signed up for a free library class on coding. I’m kind of shit at it, but that’s okay because that was the first time in my life I actually understood what syntax was in programming.

By the end of the class what I realized was that while I was too lazy to ever properly code something, it didn’t matter. What I really needed to know was:

1) what raw data I had available from System A

2) what the simplest, bare minimum amount of functions / formulas I needed to manipulate that data-

3) -so that I could then package it and download it into System B, preferably with minimal typing!

So that’s what I did. That was my new challenge. When I had a free moment at work - and boy did I find lots of those - I would play around with my little spreadsheets and these clunky programs. There needed to be checks and balances, you see. Whatever the output numbers said had to equal the new input numbers, or the accounting would be off. If Karen down the hall accidentally fat-thumbed in a new product or department, I needed it to 1) not break the formulas, and 2) be easily identified as an anomaly. Whatever happened between export/import needed to be cleaned, checked, and verified for the integrity of both systems.

So that’s what I built. Between doing my job and browsing Reddit at work. I built this whole system that would take this very boring part of my job and make it easy.

And yeah the place I worked for sucked, and I had plenty of issues happening personally, but this I was good at!

And the results kind of made me look like a god, which is always nice. And it got me a raise.

The pay bump was almost worth the mind-numbing boredom of the variety of other tasks I usually had to do to get to the fun bit. Almost.

Then last year in a moment of fed-up-ness I applied for a slew of jobs. Just slinging rezzies into the void on Indeed like a pizza maker flinging ‘za. Mostly for the same positions, just with better perks and pay. I wasn’t hoping for much. One of them called me back. Scheduled an interview. Did the interview. The next morning I had a job offer.

Y’all. I lucked in so fucking hard.

Not only were their books a mess, not only were they running a separate A/R and A/P system PLUS ANOTHER TWO INDUSTRY-SPECIFIC SOFTWARES, but they were actually excited to hear my ideas on how to fix it.

(And they were fucking soluble as all get out, which was a first for me.)

They were so excited, in fact, that it’s gone from being maybe 15% of my job to being about 80-90% of my job to just slowly fix and maintain everything they’ve got going on. Why the investment on their side? Because they’re looking to enter a potential partnership with X-number of other companies, all of whom have messy books that I could potentially end up fixing. Also the company has just started to open up a new location. Also the main owners are looking to start X-number of ancillary companies spinning out of the current one. All of these companies, of course, will have slews of data that need analyzed, with multiple Point-of-Sales systems that need to talk to each other, and good gosh golly, they know just the kind of person who likes to do that kind of shit now don’t they?

Then there’s little old me, sitting at my computer with my chunky spreadsheets and my limited amount of Visual Basic, somehow producing goddamn magic. Because programmers don’t understand generally accepted accounting practices, and accountants care even less about best data practices and management.

I have somehow waded through mires of bad decisions and late stage capitalism to find myself an oasis. I feel like I have somehow tricked the people around me into paying me good money to let me have fun at work. This in spite of the fact that I know that no one can do or even wants my job. Even AI can’t touch me, because that would require the robot be capable of standing up and asking a room full of otherwise intelligent people ‘what the fuck is this? Why did you enter it this way. Yes, I know it was easier for you and yes it’s technically accurate but you are going to accidentally break the law if we leave it like this Kenneth’

I am a cog, yes; but I am a well-paid cog, who gets to learn and feel challenged and buy ridiculous toys for my cats and fund Patreons now. And books. And sushi. And paints. I even splurged on a gym membership.

And y’all - it’s nice. It’s really really nice. And I really hope it keeps going like this, ‘cause I’m really happy with how things are going.

#personal stuff! about me!#what do other people do?#if you’re a mutual you should tell me what you’re up to #via vague blog or meme if you’d like #I don’t want to jinx it I just really like my job right now #please don’t jinx it universe please

2 notes · View notes

nancypullen · 2 years ago

Text

Lovely Day

For the last week I’ve been fighting off a cold. Nothing serious, just a garden variety cold - sore throat and sniffles. I’m sure that the more time I spend with the grandgirl I’ll build up my old immune system from my days working for the school district. I was Teflon back then, nothing stuck. I’ll bet if we could actually see viruses kids would be covered in them. Just a fact of life, and I’ll be happy to toughen up again. That said, after a week of blowing my nose while sitting under blankets on the sofa I needed a day out. The mister already had one planned. He asked if I’d like to take a guided walk through the Adkins Arboretum - a little over an hour long and maybe two and a half miles. Heck,yes! It’s a gorgeous day, just chilly enough for a jacket (that means no snakes, right?) and the arboretum is a beautiful, natural, and interesting place. It’s not one of those sculpted gardens, more like a 400 acre nature preserve. We ended up in a group of about ten with a cheerful docent named Nancy. I can now identify eight different species of oak trees and can answer any Jeopardy question on Skunk Cabbage. There was lots of good information and I also learned about the many, many intriguing classes offered at the arboretum. I’ll definitely sign up for some. As we roamed paths and crossed bridges, comparing red oak leaves to white oak leaves, I thought about how lovely it would be to wander these paths in every season. I could get some exercise as well as fill my soul with some of nature’s peace. That’s been missing from my life since May - no more sunset gazing, no deer in the yard, no communing with the birdies. I’ve really missed that. Then I started thinking about how deep in the woods we were and asked the docent (using a cheerful voice, as if my question was a positive one, hoping she’d be truthful), “If I were to walk these paths in the summer what are the chances I’d see a snake?” Her response was quick and equally cheerful - “Oh, definitely!” Then she went on and on about how she’d see them sunning up on tree branches. Then another woman chimed in and said that she always sees them right on the path. So in other words, everywhere. So long arboretum, it was nice knowing you. When she saw the look on my face she added the whole “they’re just part of the food chain” speech. Yeah, Nancy, so am I. Though I’d rather come nose to nose with a hungry bear than to stumble across a snake sleeping in the sun. They’re all king cobras to me. My brain knows differently but every other cell in my body says FLEE! In the end, we had a wonderful walk in the woods, met some lovely people, and learned a lot. That’s a successful morning. I even picked up a hat in the gift shop. I hope my contribution goes toward snake fences.

We pulled out and took a quick drive around the equestrian center in Tuckahoe State Park, just for kicks. Always fun to see people out doing horsey stuff. Then my dear husband suggested we grab some lunch. Any meal I don’t have to create and clean up is a treat, so that was a YES from me. It just so happened that we were minutes from a little spot that sells the best chicken salad I’ve ever tasted (and I spent decades in the south!). Ladies and gents, behold the Ridgely Pharmacy.

The bottom floor is a little general store and pharmacy along with a small lunch counter.

The top floor is the cutest gift shop. We took a loop around the gift shop because all of the Christmas decor was 50% off. I admired this little sign and the mister bought it. At this point I was starting to wonder if he’d won MegaMillions last night.

Hold your horses, there’s more. After we finished our tasty lunch and turned the car toward home, he asked if I wanted to stop at the Denton Mercantile since it was on the way. Um...of course I want to stop and poke around some dusty old stuff. The inside of the Mercantile is filled with pretty and fragile old stuff, mixed with cute new stuff - mostly home decor. The outside looks like Sanford and Son tidied up a bit. Piles of everything from old chairs and tables to mirrors and framed art. You never know what you’ll find. Today I found treasure! I picked up this fabulous old trunk for $40!

Isn’t she marvelous? Oh, how I wish she could talk! Now it’s sitting right under the double windows in the master bedroom, I’ll fill her with quilts and let the kitties use her to birdwatch.

I love how old and chippy and worn it is. Can a trunk be your spirit animal? Anywho, that was my day and I loved every minute of it. Blue skies, a healthy dose of nature, a delicious lunch, and a little shopping. How perfect is that? My tank is refilled! I don’t ask for much in life, but more days like today would be greatly appreciated. On the way home I was still thinking about how great the walk felt and how I should do it more often, but also thinking about sleepy snakes falling on me from tree branches. That’s about the time that we passed the large and lovely local cemetery. I spotted a handful of people gathered around a gravesite and a hearse unloading a casket. Did I think, “Oh, how sad - they’ve lost a loved one” or even “ I hope that’s a very old person who lived a full life”..? NOPE. I thought, now there’s a great place to walk. Loads of paved paths that wind their way under shade trees and cover miles of pretty, manicured ground. Bet there’s not a snake in sight. I wonder if there’s a groundskeeper on duty all the time? Would anyone notice the lady who walks around in the cemetery every day? Could I say I’m just visiting the graves that no one visits anymore? Would it be disrespectful? I mean, I’d never harm so much as a blade of grass and I’d never go in if there was a burial in progress. It just seems like such a safe, quiet, pretty place to walk.

Maybe if I carry a pad and pen I can say I’m doing research. They don’t need to know I’m researching how many laps I can walk in the cemetery before someone questions me.

I’ve got some things to think about, obviously. But the sun has set and that means it’s time for me to switch to flannel jammies and settle in for a night of bad tv. Is there anything worth watching anymore? I miss Schitt’s Creek.

Oh well, maybe there’s a new Dateline and I can learn more about how not to commit a murder. Shows like that are probably why Mickey plans days like today. What’s that old saying....happy wife, spare your life? I don’t think that’s quite right. Anywayyyy, it’s flannel time and I’m ready. Hope you’re getting cozy wherever you are too. Take off that dang bra, get into some stretchy pants! Ahhh. Have a wonderful Saturday night.

Stay safe, stay well, stay comfy.

Nancy

4 notes · View notes

tokiro07 · 2 years ago

Text

Cipher Academy ch. 18 thoughts

[Stop the Count!]

So remember how I said that Anonymity has most likely been using her Glasses Weapon to cheat on every assignment up to this point as a foil to Iroha? Well turns out I’m a god damn fool and Anonymity’s Glasses Weapon was much more obvious than I gave it credit for: instead of her censor bar hiding or literally being her Glasses Weapon, it’s the result of her Glasses Weapon, [Personal Package], literally censoring identifying information about herself. In other words, she’s been doing all of her puzzle solving completely freehand. She’s perfectly capable of putting in effort and succeeding, she just favors efficiency, and cheating happens to be the most direct method of achieving results. Kogoe puts it best when she says “she isn’t a threat because she’s a cheater, she’s a threat who also cheats”

I wonder how far her Glasses Weapon goes though: I assume Personal Package is projecting the censor bar in real time, and her profile card being blacked out could easily have been a part of Kogoe’s design for the murder mystery, but does it only affect machines that are looking directly at her? It actually seems like everyone is censoring her name when they speak, is that diegetic or just so we the audience don’t learn her name? Her introductory crossword is written in magazine clippings, did she literally do that to hide her handwriting, or is Personal Package overwriting her handwriting?

If Personal Package can censor identifiers at a distance and with no way of knowing that it’s happening, can it censor her fingerprints? Is her voice censored? If CA ever gets animated, will she be voiced with text-to-speech? Ostensibly she’s supposed to be from Kansai, which I assume is reflected in how she talks in Japanese, but could it be that Personal Package gave her a fake accent? Is Anonymity even a girl in the first place, or is she secretly a second boy in the class?

Finally, if Personal Package can work at a distance, how? How can it censor people’s words without even being in range? Could it possibly be that this world is all in some kind of simulation so data can be hacked and changed from anywhere at any time?!?!? Probably not, but if that turns out to be the case, just remember I said it first right here and now!!!

If Personal Package really does censor everything, face, voice, handwriting, fingerprints, etc., then I think it’s pretty likely that Nisio is revisiting Shonen Shojo (Ill Boy, Ill Girl), a short running series of his from almost a decade ago where the main characters had a disease that kept them from discerning the identifying features of anyone who didn’t also have the disease. What was especially fun was that Boy’s censorship was marker ink while Girl’s was ribbons, helping to illustrate the difference in their takes on their condition and other people. It’s a good read, I recommend it! Anyway, Personal Package seems like it’s a weaponized form of said disease

Back to the topic at hand, we learn that the final round of the leading class private selection does in fact involve a vote, but it’s only for establishing the starting conditions for the round itself rather than determining the winner, and instead of literally voting for the preferred candidate, the class is essentially voting against their unpreferred candidate. They even bring up an interesting point that the second or third preference might get the most votes overall because while everyone may prefer someone else, they all might agree that one candidate is a solid runner up. I wonder if Nisio is making a subtle comment on the Jump popularity poll system which works the same way, asking people to vote for their top 3 and allowing for a universal second place to beat out the divisive first place. I wouldn’t be surprised, considering how the popularity polls have generally been unkind to him in the past (I think I can count the number of times Medaka Box had the cover to itself on one hand...)

Anyway, Yosaimura gets first place for exactly that reason; because Toshusai, Iroha and Anonymity are fairly divisive, every student would naturally vote against one of them, but no one has a reason to vote against Yosaimura, giving her the lead despite the fact that no one has any particular reason to vote for her either

Humorously, Toshusai is surprised that she only lost two votes “given her personality.” She thought she was going to be more generally disliked because of how prickly and crude she is, so I assume she failed to consider the fact that the question at hand is “who can we entrust our lives to,” and that she’s far and away the most clearly capable of the candidates

Similarly, Anonymity only lost three votes and she’s just as surprised because of how much of an unlikable jerk she is. No one knows anything about her, no one is her friend, and everything she’s ever said to the class has been callous, dismissive, and cruel (horrible girl, my beloved), so if this were a popularity contest, she’d have lost without any question. In a measurement of pure skill, intelligence, and general leadership qualities, though, Anonymity has proven herself more than capable. Sure, her personality might lead to her literally sacrificing some or everyone for the sake of victory, but apparently that’s still better than...

Iroha, who only got five votes total, because he’s still kind of a wuss and way too straight-laced. He’s slow to solve puzzles but also tends to jump to conclusions, he doesn’t take advantage of the tools he has available because of his own pride, and he’s easily swayed by his emotions. Again, in terms of pure popularity, I think there’s a good chance that Iroha would have had a much tighter race against Toshusai on the basis that he seems to have endeared himself to the class pretty well by this point, but he’s actually more of a wild card than Anonymity in a certain way, doing things like recruiting a third member to what was supposed to be a two-person cell

However, the votes are merely a reflection of the classes’ impression of the candidates’ skills; the true measure of their ability and value as cipher soldiers can only be determined in practicum. In this case, Leaky Poker, a modified Blind Man’s Bluff where the cards are all hidden behind puzzles and the chips represent the votes received in the previous phase

Now, I haven’t the foggiest idea how to figure out what each card is, but I’m decently confident that “left chest” is a Hearts suit and the golf club and Clubs 49 are both Clubs. Just a feeling

This also seems like a good time to note that I was wrong about this being a more traditional tournament bracket, with Nisio instead opting for a battle royale between all four candidates. I suppose I should have seen it coming, as this is a much faster and more direct method for determining who’s the best candidate among the four

CG suggests that this game is tailor made for Anonymity, as not only is she excellent at code-breaking, she also has a built-in poker face, and also antithetical to Iroha, who almost definitely won’t use his Glasses Weapon to win this fight even if it’s his only chance. I think that that might be the intention, though: putting Iroha in a situation where he’s at as much of a disadvantage as possible to either force him to use his Glasses Weapon or prove that he doesn’t actually need it just like Anonymity. If it’s the latter, that should prove to the class that he deserves their votes beyond a shadow of a doubt

Iroha calls and raises Anonymity’s bet, going all in in the first round despite the fact that it’s extremely unlikely that he was able to solve everyone’s codes just as quickly as Anonymity did. He seems to be banking on the fact that he’s very good at keeping up a smile when he’s up against the wall, which carries a very troubling implication for his past. We know he’s been abused by his parent(s) and that he’s witnessed multiple people die, at least some of whom were presumably friends of his, so this is almost certainly related to his backstory. I’m very worried about what we’re going to learn about Iroha in the coming chapters

I do think it’s very interesting that Iroha asks Anonymity if she can keep up a poker face. I mean, of course she can, right? It’s the ability of her Glasses Weapon, she doesn’t actually need to. Ah, but there’s the rub, isn’t it? While she doesn’t rely on her Glasses Weapon to solve puzzles, she does rely on it to protect her emotions; in other words, if Personal Package fails for any reason, she won’t have her own skill to fall back on anymore, and she might not be capable of keeping up a bluff; Iroha, on the other hand, is already skilled at regulating his expression, and will naturally have the advantage in that area. This ties back into why he doesn’t use his Glasses Weapon; if he has a repeat of the code battle against Omomuro where his battery runs out or his signal gets jammed, he can’t risk being unprepared to fight on his own

Therefore, I predict that the one that Anonymity relies on and can’t do on her own will fail her, putting her on the back foot because she didn’t put in all of the effort she possible could have, costing her the victory that she prioritized above all else. Whether or not Iroha actually wins the election I can’t say, it may well be too early in his development for him to be awarded that position, but his mentality and philosophy are going to beat out Anonymity’s for sure

#cipher academy #fouryearsandananime #4y1a reviews

2 notes · View notes

allthegoodbobdylanlyricsaretaken · 23 days ago

Text

Freshmen year. 8am Biology class. Had an anatomy quiz, not a surprise one, but a surprise to me. I’d been sucking ass in biology because I was used to being a G&T kid and coasting my way through class, now I wasn’t able to pay attention and keep up. Our teacher had cut apart cow hearts and we were supposed to go around and identify the different parts, and I couldn’t do it. I could barely remember the names of the sections and I definitely couldn’t recognize them all cut up like that. I was the only one who couldn’t do it and I started to freak out; I’d never gotten less than an A before and now I was going to fail anatomy, my premed goals were vanishing before my eyes and I was so so embarrassed. My teacher saw the tears and my eyes and told me I could sit this one out, he sent me outside to calm down and promised me we’d work this out later. Once I was alone I started weeping in the hall.

An older student was walking by, I don’t remember his name, I just remember him stopping to ask what was wrong. And I was semi-incoherent and bawling about how I was going to fail. He sat and hugged me until I stopped crying and he promised me I’d be okay, I’d improve, and this wouldn’t stop any of my academic goals. He calmed me down and I was able to get through the rest of the day without tears, which was quite good as some of my other teachers and peers were actually huge assholes? My English teacher was legitimately picking on me for being good at math and she would have absolutely smelled blood in the water if she noticed me upset.

Thank God my biology teacher was nothing like her. He was also neurodivergent and suffered from anxiety, and he recognized I was genuinely passionate about science. That afternoon he walked me through each of the hearts and helped me catch up. He didn’t include this test in my grade and gave me interesting extra credit assignments to earn back credit for the other quizzes I’d failed. I’m forever grateful to him because he could have just told me to suck it up (and most teachers would have), but he went out of his way to accommodate me. It’s thanks to that class I learned good study habits and it’s thanks to this teacher and student that I’ve got so many opportunities to use them.

Tell me a soft memory

259K notes · View notes

dollycas · 5 months ago

Text

Special Guest - Dave Dobson- Author of What Grows From the Dead #AuthorInterview / #Giveaway - Great Escapes Book Tour @GCDaveDobs @davedobsonfromiowaon @frosthelmbooks

What Grows From the Dead by Dave Dobson I am delighted to welcome Dave Dobson to Escape With Dollycas today! Hi Dave, Please tell us a little bit about yourself. What are three things most people don’t know about you? I lived in Dublin for a year in 5th grade and attended public school in a two-room six-grade neighborhood elementary school. I learned a good bit of Gaelic, although I retain little of it now. In March of that year, we went to then-Soviet Russia for a week, because Russia in the winter was the only tour we could afford. I have played the largest tuba in the world in concert back when I graduated college in 1991. I played Asleep in the Deep with backing from the Harvard Band. One of my favorite experiences. If you’re curious how it sounded, I have a recording here. I have drunk a two-liter of Mountain Dew in under two minutes (1:54.84). That was a very stupid thing to do. LOL - Mountain Dew is my drink of choice. What books/authors have most inspired you? In mysteries and thrillers, I loved Dick Francis’ horseracing books. My wife shared them with me shortly after we met, and I just loved his dogged characters pursuing what’s right while often being beat up or pushed around. Learning more about horseracing was fascinating too. I also really like Harlan Coben’s early work and have tried to emulate that in what I do. I am also a big fan of lots of fantasy and science fiction. As a younger reader, I loved Tolkien, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Heinlein, Andre Norton, Ursula K. Leguin, Harry Harrison, and many others. More recently I’ve gotten into John Scalzi and Nnedi Okrafor. I really love Barry Hughart’s Bridge of Birds and his other books, and William Goldman’s The Princess Bride (book and movie). Both of them are exciting adventures in their own right, mixed with humor and gentle observations about people. What kind of research do you do, and how long do you spend researching before beginning a book? I write in a very seat-of-the-pants style without a lot of outlining or plotting ahead of time, so most of my research comes up as I go, as I discover a need for it. When I’m working on a project, I actually post a thing I call “This week in author Googling” on Facebook with all the weird facts I’ve had to look up. For What Grows From the Dead, I spent a good bit of time researching complex bits like what happens when you’re arrested and taken to jail, how search warrants work and are executed, and how cell phone towers are identified. I’ve also enjoyed consulting with friends about specific more detailed elements of books, like sailing and guns, neither of which I was very familiar with but wrote myself into. I’m lucky to have friends with a wide range of expertise, many of whom I’m in contact with through my college class of alums. Do you ever suffer from Writer’s Block? Not usually when I’m in a groove, but sometimes after I pause a project (for a vacation, or because a big event comes up) I have trouble restarting. This has gotten better for me as I’ve written more books. I think I’m no longer daunted by the prospect of trying to finish something. When you are not writing what do you like to do? I play a lot of video games and watch a ton of movies. I have been performing improv comedy at my local comedy club for the past 18 years, which lets me enjoy wonderful and fun group of people doing something really silly. I love boardgames and play any chance I get, sometimes including D&D or other RPGs. I’ve designed a few boardgames also, and I’ve self-published a series of puzzle card games. I enjoy walking and going places with my wife and visiting my kids, who are grown and launched into interesting lives. I have been in a couple of community theater productions recently, too, and I’d love to do more of that. I also enjoy trying to conquer the universe on my Attack From Mars pinball machine (from 1996). I still play tuba sometimes with the oompah band at the college where I worked for 25 years. If you could travel anywhere in the world where would you go and why? I have always wanted to see the pyramids and other sites from ancient Egypt. I love ancient places. My favorites in Europe were always the crumbling castles, and the ancestral Puebloan sites in the US like Chaco and Mesa Verde have a special magic for me. Figuring out how to get to Egypt, set up a tour, and avoid risks from regional conflicts is a little daunting, but I’ll get it done before long. What is next on the horizon for you? I just released a new fantasy novel, so I’ve been working a bit on promoting that and also reaching readers for What Grows From the Dead. I haven’t decided whether my next book will be another mystery or whether I’ll do sci-fi next. I do enjoy writing in multiple genres, although that can make it a bit tricky trying to establish myself in any of them. Thank you, Dave, for visiting today! _____ Keep reading for more information about David and What Grows From The Dead. About What Grows From the Dead What Grows From the Dead Mystery Stand-Alone Setting - North Carolina Independently Published (March 9, 2024) Paperback ‏ : ‎ 367 pages ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 979-8884545977 Digital ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0CXN1KQ1B Morris Drummond is not at his best. Well, he hasn't been at his best for a while now. But having just suffered two crushing losses, he's almost at rock bottom, which for him means driving ride-share in his mom's beat up Chevy, drowning his sorrows in tacos and spray cheese, and avoiding anything related to ambition, self-care, or laundry. Morris is about to learn that he didn't even know what rock bottom looked like, and it's all thanks to his mom. A secret she left behind comes to light, and that brings down a lot of unwanted attention on Morris, the kind that looks likely to send him either to prison or to the hereafter. Blood and treachery from long ago rise to the surface, and Morris has only his lawyer Annie, who's an old high school friend, and a few unexpected allies to call on as he tries to figure out what his mom was up to and why so many people want him out of the picture. A humorous mystery with elements of suspense and thrillers, What Grows From the Deadis set in present-day small-town North Carolina, not far from the mysterious Uwharrie Forest. Content warnings: Coarse language throughout; some gun violence (not graphic). Great Escapes Praise for What Grows From the Dead by Dave Dobson Warning: Choose carefully your location before beginning What Grows From the Dead. It is known to cause audible chuckling, chortling, guffawing, and even hooting on occasion. Highly recommended. Five Kitties! ~Jane Reads About Dave Dobson A native of Ames, Iowa, Dave loves writing, reading, board games, computer games, improv comedy, pizza, barbarian movies, and the cheaper end of the Taco Bell menu. Also, his wife and kids. Dave is the author of Snood, Snoodoku, Snood Towers, and other computer games. Dave first published Snood in 1996, and it became one of the most popular shareware games of the early Internet. He's recently published some puzzle card games in the Doctor Esker's Notebook series. Dave taught geology, environmental studies, and computer programming at Guilford College for 24 years. He does improv comedy at the Idiot Box in Greensboro, North Carolina. He's also played the world's largest tuba in concert. Not that that is relevant, but it's still kinda cool. Flames Over Frosthelm was Dave's first novel, released in 2019. He followed it a year later with Traitors Unseen and The Outcast Crown, then Daros in 2021, The Woeling Lass in 2022, and Got Trouble and Kenai in 2023. He released his first mystery novel, What Grows From the Dead, in 2024, and he's currently at work on a humorous epic fantasy novel. Author Links Website Facebook Facebook Author Page Instagram Twitter/X BlueSky Mastodon GoodReads Link Purchase Link Amazon Also Written by Dave Dobson TOUR PARTICIPANTS - Please visit all the stops. June 18 – Jane Reads - REVIEW, AUTHOR GUEST POST June 19 – Mystery, Thrillers, and Suspense – SPOTLIGHT June 20 – Sapphyria's Book Reviews – SPOTLIGHT June 21 – FUONLYKNEW – SPOTLIGHT, INDIVIDUAL GIVEAWAY June 22 – Elizabeth McKenna - Author – SPOTLIGHT June 23 – Brooke Blogs – SPOTLIGHT June 24 – Literary Gold – SPOTLIGHT June 24 – Celticlady's Reviews – SPOTLIGHT June 25 – Books, Ramblings, and Tea – SPOTLIGHT June 26 – StoreyBook Reviews – CHARACTER GUEST POST June 27 – Christy's Cozy Corners – CHARACTER GUEST POST June 27 – Baroness Book Trove – SPOTLIGHT June 28 – Maureen's Musings – SPOTLIGHT June 28 – Ruff Drafts – AUTHOR GUEST POST June 29 – Guatemala Paula Loves to Read – REVIEW June 29 – Escape With Dollycas Into A Good Book – AUTHOR INTERVIEW a Rafflecopter giveaway Have you signed up to be a Tour Host? Click Here to Find Details and Sign Up Today! Want to Book a Tour? Click Here Your Escape Into A Good Book Travel Agent This post contains affiliate links. If you make a purchase using my links, I will receive a small commission from the sale at no cost to you. Thank you for supporting Escape With Dollycas. Read the full article

0 notes

kaerran · 2 years ago

Text

i sure have had a lot of dnd posts (especially about the movie) come across my dash and man my experiences are nothing like the typical

my Actual DnD campaigns (as opposed to any other system) were:

1) a... probably 2nd ed campaign with a very established party (like they were on their second high levelled characters and their first ones were gods or something) and they let me play a half-dragon (NOT dragonborn, which i’m not sure existed yet?? wiki says they only were created in 2006 in a 3.5 supplement and i’m sure this campaign happened before 2006) because i’d be so behind anyway, and i remember nothing else besides having a great deal of fun. i didn’t get to keep that sheet and i’m still sad

2) a 1st ed campaign run by my dad, which featured me (a cleric/ranger), my mom (newly buddhist and therefore playing a mostly pacifist [refused to kill people, refused to ambush anyone] monk), my sister (thief), and 3 friends (i honestly don’t remember what my sister’s friend played but my friend played a wizard and his friend played a paladin), which featured such things as: I was the only one who rolled decent enough stats to play and therefore I was the only one without an 18 (because after that debacle dad gave everyone a premade set to distribute), we also all had psionics (dad kept claiming he rolled them legitimately and only one person DIDN’T get them but later admitted that in actuality i was the only one who DID roll ‘em) which over-supplemented our actual characters (i could heal and speak to animals psionically, so i literally never healed with my cleric spells, the thief and monk both could go invisible but mom refused to use it to actually sneak attack), and he was giving us all REALLY DIFFERENT exp via passed notes (he was giving me nearly double exp partially because i was actually rping lawful good and also to ensure that i wasn’t falling behind, and he was massively penalizing the paladin for playing the world’s worst paladin)

3) a 4th ed campaign where i was playing a warforged... something...... and i spent the entire time just so uncertain of what was going on i learned nothing. it’s a bit of a shame because mayan robotstatue was kinda fun (ok not really mayan, but i took the name from my then-recent mesoamerican classes for funsies)

4) i am brand newly in a 5th ed campaign where i’m playing a dragonborn thief, which sure is a funny pairing but i saw dragonborn and went “soooo can i?” and tat said sure! have fun! my parents are playing a human ranger/sorcerer and a half-elf bard (and both of them are struggling with spell and cantrip choices), and then there’s also a dwarf warrior and i THOUGHT nadia was playing a gnome wizard but she is actually playing a tiefling druid? this is fine. we may or may not have another person joining we’ll see. his character is not in the google docs folder yet. we’ve had one session and it’s gone okay, but i’m having to Adjust from my other group’s mostly narrative style to actual dnd’s actually-pay-attention-to-the-dm style (and actual initiative! it’s so weird i’m used to our made-up-on-the-spot-because-the-system-forgot-to-specify-how-to-determine-initiative card draws)

the point is: uhhhh i don’t actually know what spells exist (which is a thing i’ve seen several times re: the movie, that you can identify the spells and i’m like lol no i can’t) or how most groups play or even how most games flow

1 note · View note

cobble-stone · 2 years ago

Note

🔥 - How has the way you think about yourself changed since you realized you were queer?

🌼 - If you used any other labels before your current one, what were they?

🌾 - How queer do you think you look? Would it be obvious to someone that you were queer if they looked at you?

🌱 - How would your younger self act if your current self told them they were queer?

💙 - When you first learned about the Queer community, did you immediately realize ‘That’s me!’ Or did you consider yourself a ‘really good ally’ for some time?

🔥: When I first figured out that I was queer it kinda like- it was very much a “ah. so that’s why Things Are the way they Are,” with the way they Are being the reason i felt so- other, to everyone else. I later figured out the reason for said othered feeling was actually because i was autistic. Figuring out I was trans was more- it was a lot harder and not an immediate “yes that’s me,” and while there’s been difficult parts, it’s largely been a very good thing for me. I started putting more effort into how I look/present because I wasn’t just completely apathetic towards my appearance, I actually- had ways that I wanted to look and realized I could feel happy in my appearance instead of just trying my best to ignore it

🌼: I identified as a lesbian for like….three? Years? From when I was 12 until I was 15. It turns out I was not a lesbian, I just didn’t want a romantic relationship where I was “the woman,” which meant even just the thought of dating men was very uncomfortable for me. I started questioning my gender properly when I was 15, and realized I was nonbinary. I just identified as gay and nonbinary but like gay in the “every attraction I experience is gay” way. Now I’m just unlabeled and a trans man, I’ve tried finding labels but like- nothing fits? I’ve tested out identifying as aroace, as gay, as bi, as combinations, and like. I’ve just come to the conclusion that it doesn’t matter sexuality is a social construct I can just do whatever. I have no canonical sexuality feel free to impose whatever headcanons you want onto me as long as you know they aren’t canon

🌾: I used to look a lot more queer, but I decided to go mostly stealth at college (I’ll tell people I’m trans if it’s relevant but like- most people just accept i’m just Some Guy), I was only really openly trans in high school because I had to be in order for people to know I was a guy. The dyed hair (I have an underbleach) and my general style is like- vaguely edgy. Like if someone diluted an alt kid. I don’t immediately look queer but I also don’t immediately look straight. I used to put in more effort but like I’m tired man I don’t want to get all dressed up just for class every day

🌱: I think if I told (deadname) or Blue that she turned out to be a guy she would be. Very confused. I was not a tomboy as a kid at all, I honestly had very little concept of gender or sexuality for a long time. It used to be kinda distressing for me and it was why I was hesitant to identify as a trans guy for a long time- it’s kinda the common stereotype for a trans person to always just know, and I didn’t just know. How I see it now is like- (deadname) and Blue are separate from who I am now, (deadname) and Blue weren’t a guy, but I, Cobalt, sure am.

💙: Kinda both! When I first realized I was queer it was cause I saw “women could kiss women,” took the Strange Discomfort at the idea of dating men, did the math wrong, and immediately went “ah yes. i’m a lesbian.” I then very much was “just a good ally” about trans people for three years, to the point where my logic was “I can’t possibly be trans, that’d be transphobic of me.” This was especially doubled because I was just starting to poke at my transgenderness right as the end of the truscum era of the trans community, and like- my general opinion was “everyone is valid regardless of their identity or dysphoria but *I* can’t be trans *I* don’t have dysphoria.” (despite the fact that i did have dysphoria, it just wasn’t the stereotype of dysphoria just being “overwhelmingly bad body dysphoria” so I thought I didn’t .”

#cobble’s tones #ask games #hello anon hope you’re having a good day :)#oh god i talked for a while. my bad kdgdkdjdh i have lots to say about my trans identity #long post

1 note · View note

badnikbreaker · 2 years ago

Text

i’m having sonia thoughts. have some words on how sonia feels about the fact that her brothers are. assholes to her. all the time.

( this obviously comes with the caveat that, especially at the beginning of their Journey, sonia is a prissy elitist, so much of their comments to her are justified! sometimes they do take it too far, granted, but broadly speaking. i’m not making claims regarding the validity of their frustrations with her, just on her feelings. )

there’s three main points worth noting here when we talk about this: 1.) sonia has never had siblings before meeting her brothers, so there’s an adjustment period as she learns what’s just fun harmless sibling banter, which means that especially towards the beginning she’s a lot more likely to take the banter to heart and get her feelings hurt. 2.) sonia is, as mentioned, a prissy elitist, so in the beginning it’s easy for her to brush off their rudeness as them being lower class and not having the refinement or education or self - respect to value that ‘right things’ the way she does. classism, baby! and 3.) that as she moves on past 1 and 2, she gets to a point where stuff only really hurts her feelings if she thinks her brothers are justified in what they’re saying to or about her, and we’ll get into what that looks like as we go.

so for 1. siblings are sometimes pricks to each other. it’s part of the banter and doesn’t actual signal any real dislike! a lot of sonic and manic’s treatment of her falls under that category of largely unintentional harm and tomfoolery; t’s clear that sonic and manic fall into that style of communication more easily than sonia. they both have a much more casual upbringing, and it shows; they tease her a lot more than she teases them. when she’s insulting them, it’s usually like. Something Real rather than a playful jab. as she knows them longer, she gets better at identifying what’s just for fun and what’s hurtful. but at the beginning, it does hurt her feelings a lot.

which brings us to 2! to overcome the hurt feelings, she’s very apt to tell herself that they’re just lowlives and criminals and she can’t expect them to understand or appreciate things like she does. it’s definitely very classist, and she’s ashamed of it later — sonic and manic are smart, funny, kind, capable people! she learns to trust their judgement, which leads to...

3. she knows her brothers well enough to distinguish between whats good - natured teasing and what’s mean to be hurtful, and she’s to a point where she trusts her brothers to know what they’re talking about. and at this point, the only stuff that stings — whether its banter or her brothers just being pricks — is what she feels like is true. this is good in a lot of ways! it motivates her to stop being so prissy, to be less classist, etc. but it also leads to a lot of self - doubt.

sonia has a high opinion of her abilities; what she’s good at, she knows she’s good at. and what’s good about her she knows is good. she knows she’s good looking, she knows she’s strong, etc. she takes a lot of comfort in those things. so when her brothers are right about her flaws, that hurts, because it digs at the parts of herself — her intelligence, her drive for the resistance, etc. — that she thought were good and which she now has to acknowledge aren’t up to snuff. that can do real long term harm to her self - esteem. usually this manifests as her being quiet and moody for a bit.

( in a similar vein, she’s not likely to outright say ‘sonic, you’re right, i was being xyz earlier. i’ll be better.’ she’s much more likely to just...try to not do xyz again — which is fine, bit it does deprive her of the chance for verbal forgiveness or comfort, both of which could help assuage these issues. )

#sonia : headcanon.#both of her brothers love her deeply and are generally speaking very kind to her!#and she knows they love her #still. it can be rough out here

0 notes

confoundedman · 7 months ago

Text

tbh i’m very genuinely a burnt out former gifted kid (iq is a bullshit racist measure but trust me i’m up there) and like we never actually bullied special ed kids but only because we never even interacted with them. i’m not saying this as a good thing i mean that gifted programs are so fucked up, our classes were so isolated from the rest of the school, the culture and pressure and superiority complex it created was so fucking toxic. and racist!!! i mean my area wasn’t all white, actually majority east+south asian but u bet there were no latino or black people in my class. idk what most people mean when they say they’re former gifted kids tho bc my hometown is kinda Special (FUCK redmond wa), like i watched one of my friends (who got into a highly selective CS college in 10th grade, along with several other people i knew) have a breakdown over not being as good as another classmate who was doing university level physics research in 9th grade and rejected MIT for stanford (although i had three other friends go to MIT). my entire friend group was three grades ahead in math (minimum). tbh i still have no idea how “impressive” any of that is (if it’s impressive at all) bc my understanding of standards are so fucked. like for me “burnt out gifted kid” doesn’t even mean “boohoo i used to be good at things and now i’m not” but it’s more about the culture and ridiculously high expectations and academic pressure and now i’m basically failing out of college thanks to truly debilitating depression and adhd that i never learned how to deal with because i was smart enough to make up for it in grade school, and i don’t think college is for me but i never considered anything other than a high ranking university as an option thanks to the incredibly toxic environment that constantly shit on art majors, gap years, community college, etc., where everyone only did shit to build up their college resume and we all forgot how to have fun.

idk i wish arrogant white ppl hadn’t co-opted the term because it genuinely is a fucked up phenomenon, i recognize the sheer privilege in being labeled a gifted kid in the first place and having access to all those resources and shit, being able to worry about academics instead of money or whatever, but while it works for some people it can also really fuck you up, i am in such a worse place mentally than i would’ve been if i had just been in general ed somewhere else, and i have friends going through the same shit. also fucks you up socially because you live in such a bubble, i firmly believe in having a diverse group of friends and gifted programs create the exact opposite. idk i try not to publicly identify as a burnt out former gifted kid bc for the most part i agree with you and i don’t wanna come across as that kind of person lol, and i will say it really isn’t the biggest deal tbh, there’s so much worse shit to be dealing with. i hope this rant doesn’t come off as whiny or whatever it’s just something i think about a lot.

“Burnt out former gifted kid” auto translates to “former bully of special ed students” in my head automatically like autocorrect

#leaving redmond and going to college was kind of a crazy culture shock tbh #like i was surrounded by the same type of people my whole life #and suddenly realized the rest of america is not the same??#only other region i was familiar with was bay area which tbh suffers from the same shit

89 notes · View notes

fate-motif · 2 years ago

Text

b’elanna’s banana pancakes

hello tumblr. it’s been a while since i did some star trek meta. but i’ve just been on a prodigy kick lately and that inevitably brings me back to voyager where i’ve spent some time before unpacking a lot of writing decisions and politics surrounding them. today i want to talk about the most inane detail i could fixate on in b’elanna’s characterization, and this thought hasn’t left me in years so i think maybe i should share it with the class. maybe it will mean something to someone else the way it does to me.

b’elanna’s favorite comfort food is banana pancakes. when she’s feeling down she asks neelix to replicate them for her, and it’s kind of a running staple in moments where b’elanna is feeling emotionally vulnerable. it’s a cute detail, but over the years i’ve turned the detail over and over and wished, pointlessly, that i could somehow go back in time and edit that writing decision and change b’elanna’s favorite pickup meal to something else: fried plantain. if you’re not familiar with latin american cuisine, plantain are a common staple in a lot of dishes but i am specifically to ripe plantain, fried until it’s golden brown and caramelized. it goes by different names depending on the country but it’s a surprisingly widespread dish. there’s even equivalents in west african and southeast asian countries and if you haven’t tried it this is the friendliest recommendation to taste the food of the gods before the end of your life.

i’ll admit the context for this obsession is selfish. i’m latin american, specifically costa rican, and when i watched voyager i couldn’t help but latch on to roxann dawson’s portrayal of a broken, abandoned young woman who learns to love herself and accept the love of others in her life when given the nurturing and patience she deserved all along. this wasn’t just because her character is beautiful in its own right, but because i identified with her as a latin american woman. i could spend a good amount of time talking about the standards of womanhood that i was subjected to growing up latin american but this post is not about that, so i’m going to summarize one of the things that makes b’elanna so important to me as a female latin american character very briefly: it’s her emotional complexity and the compassion with which all her emotions, including the anger and the trauma, are treated while portrayed as a latina character. i wish more than anything i had grown up watching voyager for this specific reason, and now that i’ve actually watched it i feel like a piece of my puzzle has been filled in, and i’m a little closer to whole. which is why it’s all the more curious that b’elanna isn’t exactly written as a latin american character in the first place.

star trek is a very american franchise, written by very american writers, and, with some notable exceptions, very white, cishet, male writers. it’s been talked to death how star trek’s vision of a multicultural world becomes seriously impaired by the lack of diversity in its leading creatives. today i specifically want to address how the franchise has been since its inception, and still is, limiting its potential by how the american cultural zeitgeist dominates its development. it’s a specifically white american zeitgeist, too. the human world regardless of the ethnicity of its members gets steamrolled into a very colorblind world where apparently humans now pride ourselves on our acceptance and embracing of different nations but we are only ever shown cultural expressions consistent with the experiences of modern day white americans. it’s even clearer in the writing of characters of color, like harry kim or geordi laforge, over white non americans like miles o’brien or malcolm reed. there have been exceptions, most notably in the writing of sisko’s family, but for the most part characters of color are not ever shown engaging in any activities that might have been passed down from non white american heritage. this is true even for characters who aren’t even supposed to be american, like uhura who’s meant to be from kenya. it’s not just a disappointment to the core values that the franchise is meant to stand by but also a waste of writing potential and even a loss in what could be a way to connect to potential fans from all over the globe.

back to me, because this post was made because of the very selfish reason that feel like i just need b’elanna to connect a little bit more to me. to my upbringing. i call it selfish because it’s not as clean cut a writing decision as it i make it out to be. latin americans, diaspora or otherwise, are not a monolith even in the 21st century. john torres and his family show again the limitations the writers run into with their limited worldview and they don’t seem to hold on to latin american traditions or cultural heritage. and furthermore, b’elanna herself has mixed feelings on her klingon heritage already but that doesn’t mean that the heritage passed down by the father who abandoned her would be that much easier to embrace. and yet in my mind i can just see little b’elanna eagerly devouring slices of fried plantain made by her father on rare occasions and feeling so utterly loved after being starved so many times of his affection because he shared something with her about himself and made her feel cherished with it. and that nostalgia for that tiny spark of love she felt so many years ago being fanned and set ablaze when her new family learns how to cheer her up with this little gesture that recognizes her roots.

it wouldn’t exactly be an uncomplicated portrayal, it’s not like i want my favorite dish to be equated with deadbeat dads and their shitty racist against klingons families. but i’m just reminded of jacob geller’s discussion on bj blazkowicz’s jewish heritage in the recent wolfenstein video game series. “i just want some recognition that he’s connected to me.” it would mean the world to me, too.

#if you reblogged my essay on seven of nine and the price paid for perfection you’re obligated to reblog this one as well #star trek #star trek voyager #voy #fandom #b’elanna torres #latin american representation #voyager

184 notes · View notes