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brightdarkness-2013 · 6 months ago

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Chapter 17: Dun Dun Duuuuuunnnnnn!

Summary:They attempt to merge the two pods and Prowl doesn't like change.

Today was the day. Unfortunately for both parties that Barricade was in the clear for now. A little banged up, but he was much better off. Damaged scales were shedding to be replaced and that was great and all, but they would take some time to actually harden enough to protect him. Some time had been wasted on deciding which group was going to go in first. Sure Barricade was aggressive and two of the three in the other were pretty aggressive when they wanted to be too, but they only had two while the other had three. Mini or not they would be outnumbered and I had no doubt that both groups would notice. Barricade may just decide to attack right away should the others have control of the tank when they got in. He was at a higher risk for aggression and starting a fight so in Prowl and Barricade went. Prowl didn’t take to the new environment too well. Technically neither of them did. Prowl darted about in the new space and Barricade was following him around again, but this had occurred in their previous tank so it wasn’t concerning. Prowl was looking for a safe spot to no doubt hide another small nest and Barricade was being Barricade. We gave them some time and Prowl seemed to have decided on a spot judging by how they had settled in the right hand corner with all the seagrass. They were settling in fine.

However when the other three got dropped in things got tense. Nothing happened for a minute. They all just stared at each other. Everyone was holding their breath and preparing for the worst. If things got bad then we needed to break them apart fast. A sedative needed to be dropped in and they needed to be pulled out. Barricade looked ready to launch himself at them and I was sure I wasn’t the only one who was really hoping that he wouldn’t. If he started a fight then Prowl would get hurt and possibly killed by the two larger mers. The young little black and yellow wouldn’t be able to handle too much damage as he had yet to actually gain the armor that his pod mates had. His scales were too soft yet to handle a real fight.

I was learning the little cues that the mers gave off and I’d like to think I was doing pretty good, but Arcee and Cliff both had called a merge off or just walked away saying that things were going to be fine before either of the groups had moved. Both had been within a five minute period, but now neither of them had said a word to either call it off or to reassure that they weren’t going to kill each other. It was just quiet and it was unnerving.

Chromia had named them a while ago. The little mini was Bumblebee due to his coloration and his love for the underwater flowers. He was friendly. The cherry red was Sideswipe which I’m sure there was a story that I didn’t know about. Then there was Sunstreaker and I figured that was just due to his color because his personality sure wasn’t sunny.

Then Prowl moved. Slowly. Carefully. Barricade growled and Prowl hissed at him before turning back to the other three. Another slow move forward. Then he stopped. No calls from Arcee and Cliff yet. The mini eased past his pod mates. The other two were still tense. One watching Barricade and the other watching Prowl. However ever so slowly his shifted to Barricade as well.

“Come on. For once play nice.” Arcee hissed beside me.

Yep I was not the only one. Apparently this was all on Barricade. Just… Great. This was not going to go well. Barricade was still close to the sand and still looking ready to lunge with the way his arms were braced and his tail was twitching. He was dangerously focused on them as they were on him. Prowl and little Bee had been slowly shifting closer. Hopefully they were trying to work something out. They were close enough to touch now, but neither moved. Bee tilted his head to the side with a rather innocent look. The other three still hadn’t moved to attack or withdraw.

“Back. Down. Please just back down.” Came another hiss from Arcee as she stared at Barricade.

“This is gonna be another bloodbath.” Blurr spoke in a dangerously serious tone.

Cliff tensed beside me as Barricade shifted to watch Prowl and Bee. They moved around each other in a close circle. Prowl showing his back to Bee’s pod mates and Bee to Barricade. A show of trust. Either Bee was really stupid or way too trusting and hopeful. Another minute of silence and stillness before Prowl reached out. Bee willingly pressed their palms together.

That was when everything went to hell. Barricade lunged at Bee. Prowl snatched the mini and curled around him to show his back to Barricade. Sunstreaker and Sideswipe moved quickly in lunging at Barricade who was retreating in his attack when Prowl made to shield Bee. Then they were tearing at each other. Prowl retreated with Bee as they other three fought.

“Dammit! Go! Blurr, Sedative! Now!”

Dropping Bee behind a ridge of coral Prowl launched himself over the coral ridge and into the fray. He slammed into Sideswipe with enough force to knock him away, but he easily recovered to assist Sunstreaker. The two were doing rather well in tearing Barricade apart. Barricade screeched when Sunstreaker tore one of his wing fins. Prowl was trying to break it up. Sunstreaker gave a howl of pain as Barricade raked his claws down his tail. The water was turning red. Prowl hissed when Sideswipe slammed his tail into him successfully batting him away before turning back to Barricade. That was when Bee raced from his cover to assist. Prowl and Bee were doing their best and failing to make the three stop, but it was the sedative that made the fight stop.

Prowl and Bee were fine. The other three were covered in claw marks and bites. They were brought back to their own tanks once the other three were taken to medbay. Prowl and Bee had gotten along fine and I had no doubt that Prowl would have done just fine with merging if Barricade hadn’t of been there.

“So damn close to an understanding.” Arcee slammed her fist on the wall in her frustration. “Maybe they wouldn’t have merged, but they would have tolerated each other and shared the space. But no. He had to ruin it.”

Notes:You have fucked up now, Barricade.

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onesunofagun · 2 years ago

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The implications on Ganondorf and his background in TotK suggest some very interesting things to me.

First of all, like. I love him. He specifically did not disappoint me. His JP audio fucks so hard. I love his design. He's glorious.

And Hyrule as an imperialistic divine hegemony is not a new concept in the slightest, obviously, the Ganondorf corner of the fandom have known and discoursed about the potential story ramifications of those themes since OoT, but Fujibayashi really went ham on it in his run. (And look. Zelda is made in Japan. Framing a divine imperial authority as a good thing narratively is pretty par for the course JP nationalism, to be really blunt. It is what it is. Grain of salt.)

But I do appreciate that it revisited some OoT plot beats even if it... really drove that point home again in retrospect

I guess new fans are in for a treat unpacking that;;;

Anyway in the BG of that, I'm interested in the particular minutia of what was happening with this Ganondorf specifically to flavour his particular brand of 'fuck you'

And a few important points that give broader context to things are these and I'll put under a cut bc spoilers obviously--

Rauru's repeated 'invitations' to join Hyrule and benefit from their protection (presumably some advanced technological access or strong magical allies as part of that promise, which I believe is probably anti-monster focused within world context) which Ganondorf as a King has very much ignored (and good for him tbh).

Clearly, he has an interest in keeping Gerudo independent.

Ganondorf is acknowledged as a Hero to his people. Not only does this heavily resonate with the very particular themes of his actual character design and both its Buddhist reference and Samurai trope homages, but like-- we're actively shown an explanation for WHY he may be considered such.

Being who he is, he's already magically inclined with a kinship to monsters. We are unapologetically shown him in command of a Molduga Army. Trained Moldugas, under his command-- and not under specifically his mystical command, either, but musically conditioned. Trained to follow sound based command cues, which makes plentiful sense given Moldugas are sound sensitive and Ganondorf usually has musical inclinations. Plus it's Zelda franchise, magic command music is also very much a thing but--

Moldugas are, at least medicinally, very important resources. On a larger scale, they're also a very present threat to desert dwellers and travellers, and from the looks of it in much larger numbers, back then.

Given the context of everything, Ganondorf was a badass even before 'he took a magic relic and fucked up the Hyrulean Royal Family' as he tends to do. Sporting as ever, he fights Link one on one as just a Gerudo, also showing once again that he does in fact have some personal code of honour when it comes to fighting worthy opponents. But it gives us a yardstick of how capable he probably was even before he nabbed the tear.

Capable enough of tangling with most big uglies in the desert, such as Moldugas, which he has at least trained and at most maybe even raised.

Exemplified Power as he ever is, I'd like to point out that in this case, he's demonstrating a flipside of what Power looks like-- benevolence, protection, guardianship. Once again, we have the pieces that indeed he is capable of that and showing that to his own people. He also flexes the Molduga Army as a show of Gerudo and its own power.

To anyone other than Rauru, who is an incredibly powerful Sage already, a Molduga Army would have absolutely won the day, I think. The reaction of the other Gerudo is pretty telling.

Ganondorf's faction were deeply shaken by the display of Rauru's power. And as a guy that's been knocking on your King's door and saying 'you should come and bend knee to me' when Gan already has the worst problem in the sands sorted out?

Very understandable.

From their perspective -- what do they need protection from, exactly, if not Hyrule itself? Their monster problem is a non-issue. From the viewpoint of Gerudo loyal to Ganondorf, everything about this looks like a pressured threat.

Which comes back around, of course, to what Ganondorf plainly lays out to Rauru when he gains the tear-- this is because Rauru tried to control him. And yes, that's Ganondorf and his pride and his nature in full tilt too. He will not be pulled beneath anyone or anything.

But that's the point about that hubris on Rauru's part, he felt superior and he underestimated both Gerudo and Ganondorf-- as a warrior and a leader, and as somebody who was likely managing things very well on his own.

But I mentioned factions. This is something that should be made clear.

Pointed ears are, canonically, associated with faithfulness to Hylia and/or the worship of Hyrulean spirits. This gets debated all the time, but that's the fact of it. We have been shown again and again that humans from outside of Hyrule have round ears (as long ears are associated with hearing the voices of the gods; ie being open to them). Exposure to Hyrulean aligned divine elements can lend pointedness to previously totally round ears. We see this happen.

It has been doubled down upon that the ancient Gerudo (such as in oot and FSA, with FSA having the introduction of the floral association in Gerudo design and OoT heavily centering mirrors in their spiritual practices) worship different deities, whether derivatives of Din or Hylia or completely different myth. The Goddess of the Sands has been confirmed as a deity that Hyrule itself views as evil and false.

I generally interpret this to mean that part of the reason boils down to this-- Hyrule's main concern is that pointed ears are living lives closer to the gods, and therefore more insulated against corruption and demonic influences. Rather fittingly, their patron's foremost spiritual antagonist tends to find his reincarnation in unprotected, non-Hyrulean tribes who are 'open' to demons.

Now that may be another layer to what Rauru means when he says protection, also. Worshipping the 'right gods' affords certain protections (and certainly supports the security of Hyrule itself).

In SkSW, by the way, there's a really cool point of questioning early human society too-- the fire temple depicts demons and monsters and snakes quite a bit, and these were built in a time when I suspect the humans were mostly a large proto-people.

Sidenote: I think Hylia's faithful went to Skyloft and generally shook out to be the Hylians we know later, where some stayed on Earth to serve Hylia's plan and became Sheikah, many more people were transformed into demons in a reverse-Batreaux situation, and some humans just scattered far and wide to avoid conflict.

Anyway that temple depicts Bokoblins making hand signs and long story short, the overall motif and meaning of that temple shows demons offering to teach things, approaching humans with a different kind of enlightenment. Whoever built that temple was very much in a state of open spiritual and mystical curiosity.

Now the takeaway there is, ultimately, the ancient Gerudo very much seem to be descended from such a sect of people. They have their own gods, and they're not part of Hyrule proper, and they have round ears because of it.

Botw departed from that very clearly, but in doing so, also erased and replaced almost all traces of the ancient Gerudo deities with new Hylian analogues.

The Seven/Eight Heroines count as Hylianised deities, and I believe the reason for this-- first suspected in botw but I feel it's weightier after totk-- is that they represent tear holders / Hylia aligned Sages in the seven group (edit: and apparently a Hero in the Eighth) such as those in the decline timeline. They are functionally the reason that the Gerudo of modern day possess long ears-- even where they are selective in what they worship, they are still worshipping Hylia aligned aspects of Divine Hyrule.

And in case this wasn't absolutely irrefutable to me beforehand, the ancient Gerudo Sage from Rauru's time is both loyal to him, and possesses pointed ears under her camel mask.

I would also point out the Hylians of Rauru's time seem to have longer ears in general, probably owing to having a Zonai King, ostensibly a Hylia aligned Deity himself.

Ganondorf's ears are rounded, of course. He clearly doesn't believe in Hyrulean worship even in lip service, and it's little wonder why.

But following another beat of OoT, that ancient sage is a very obvious Nabooru type character. And, in much the same way, that suggests that even when Ganondorf was King of the Gerudo only, there may have already been factions splitting up amongst their people based on spiritual practices.

I don't think it's beyond the pale to speculate there may have been a mixture of Gerudo at the time who had both pointed ears and round, signalling the confusion from and conflict between their spiritual leaders.

It seems likely that a schism probably existed, regardless of ears, but that schism-- and the sage who may well have been leading it-- may have been caused by people who decided respond to those calls from Rauru and join Hyrule without their King.

Which gives a lot more context to why Ganondorf would be in the mood to send a giant Molduga shaped "back off" Rauru's way, also.

I take particular note that Ganondorf's destruction intentions are faced towards Hyrule and her allies, and specifically those who oppose him in that goal. And while I concur that his whole Red Inheritance party ran hard and may well have had a decent hand in frightening the bejeezus out of the Gerudo who were previously faithful to him-- maybe even inadvertently sent some running for camp Hyrule-- it seems he considers modern day Gerudo, fully converted to pro-Hyrulean status, to be traitors.

We have no idea what happened to the Gerudo who followed him, so that's really up in the air as to how messy that may have gotten.

Even the woman who plays to summon the Molduga has pointed ears though, so I tend to lean that his camp got converted to Heroine worship (or at least those with pointed ears mostly did if the mixed ear situation was happening).

But heck, it would not be the first time some Gerudo got ran outta dodge after a King went belly up.

Food for thought.

#ganondorf #legend of zelda #ocarina of time #long post #totk #totk spoilers #botw #gerudo #zelda #zelda meta

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discar · 8 months ago

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HZD Terraforming Base-001 Text Communications Network

Chapter 50 (Eclipse omake) | Prev chapter Chapter Index

ChosenOfTheSun: Rise and greet the Sun, for it is a new dawn!

FavoredOfTheSun17: And a beautiful dawn it is!

PlumageOfTheSun8: [ANewDay.jpg]

ChosenOfTheSun: And what is that supposed to be, Kestrel? You had work to be about.

PlumageOfTheSun8: My team executed the attack and killed the heretics exactly as instructed, Lord Helis! The Sun saw fit to bless our victory with the timely arrival of this beautiful dawn!

ChosenOfTheSun: Very good. Continue on, then. Victory under the Sun.

PlumageOfTheSun8: Victory under the Sun!

ChosenOfTheSun: Sylens. Have you received the latest shipment of Focuses?

Sylens: Indeed. Many are damaged beyond my ability to repair, but I should have another dozen ready within the week.

ChosenOfTheSun: Slow.

Sylens: We are all limited to the light the Sun grants us.

ChosenOfTheSun: Do not mimic words you do not understand, outlander.

ChosenOfTheSun: Is no one else awake? Where are my reports?

FavoredOfTheSun10: Lord Helis, my men are reporting that the tests with the corruptors was a full success. We can maintain any number of machines indefinitely.

ChosenOfTheSun: Excellent. How are our numbers of corruptors?

FavoredOfTheSun10: Still low. However, we have had no losses after the first incident with the thunderjaw. We are keeping to weaker machines for now, but I anticipate moving on to more dangerous ones soon.

ChosenOfTheSun: Acceptable.

ChosenOfTheSun: Oseram. What is the progress on finding more dig sites?

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: I think I've found a few.

ChosenOfTheSun: SIR.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Yes, of course. I think I've found a few, sir.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: I'll need more time to be sure, though.

ChosenOfTheSun: You always seem to need more time. Perhaps we should see how much time your family has left.

PlumageOfTheSun28: I am ready at your order, my lord!

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: No, please, I promise I am working as fast as I can. Expeditions cost money, as you know, and there is only so much I can get out of the Sun-King.

ChosenOfTheSun: The FALSE Sun-King!

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Of course, sir! I apologize, I have spent too long among the traitors. I have to be careful with my words around them.

ChosenOfTheSun: Perhaps. Though perhaps we can make do without you and your whining after all.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: EVEN THE BLIND MAY REFLECT THE SUN'S LIGHT.

ChosenOfTheSun: You are correct, as usual. Even an Oseram has a use.

ChosenOfTheSun: Now, where are the rest of my reports?

----

Direct Message (@ RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson])

Sylens: I have questions about your survey methods.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: What are you doing? How are you doing this? I thought I couldn't recieve private messages.

Sylens: I have special permissions. Regardless, I have some interest in archeology. Are you using Carja cartographical methods, or Oseram?

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Uh, Oseram. Well, Carja for the larger maps, since they're better at that. But Oseram methods are better at the smaller scale, to map the individual dig sites.

Sylens: Indeed. How are you finding the ancient machines? I have looked over your previous dig sites, and I have difficulty spotting a pattern. Other than the fact that they appear to be distant from any existing settlements.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: That's actually Helis' request. He doesn't want to attract attention. There are a couple places I suspect are large caches, but they're too close to towns.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: I mostly look for out of the way sites. These machines usually aren't found in major ruins, like the metal towers. They're more often the only thing of interest in the area. So when one of Avad's survey teams spots something, but don't think it's likely to be important, I inform the Shadow Carja.

Sylens: I see. So you are using the work of others to make up for your own shortcomings.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: The Shadow Carja don't have the manpower to map out the wilds.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: I'm sorry, why are you asking me this? Helis knows all of this. You could just ask him.

Sylens: Lord Helis has better things to do with his time than indulge my curiosity.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: ...you're not afraid of him?

Sylens: I am cautious of him. But he is a known quantity. So no, I am not afraid of him.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Then, could you help me?

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Not me, my family.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: If you can get them out, I would be forever in your debt. I would remain working with you, since of course you and the Shadow Carja share the same goals, but if you could somehow convince Helis to give them up, I would be so much more motivated.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: ...hello?

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: [You have a restricted account, and may not send or recieve private messages. Please contact your administrator for more details.]

----

ChosenOfTheSun: Vezreh, I still do not have your report.

ChosenOfTheSun: Vezreh!

ChosenOfTheSun: He should not still be asleep. The Sun has been shining for hours now. He is not one for indolence.

Sylens: He is likely out of range. Didn't you say you were sending him to Sunfall?

ChosenOfTheSun: Indeed. This is quite frustrating.

Sylens: I am well aware. However, options are limited.

ChosenOfTheSun: Yes. For now, we will keep our forces centralized, to ensure we are all in range of communications.

FavoredOfTheSun5: Lord Helis, I do not mean to speak out of turn, but remember that we require constant communication with the Oseram delver. If we lose touch, he may falsely believe he can escape.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: You do know I'm still a part of this conversation?

FavoredOfTheSun5: I was not speaking to you.

Sylens: Do I need to show you how to use private messages again?

FavoredOfTheSun5: The words of the Sun shall be heard in the light of day!

Sylens: I am unsure of the context of that quote.

ChosenOfTheSun: Remind me again why we must continue to use outlander filth instead of strong Carja warriors.

PlumageOfTheSun12: The glory of the True Carja shines too brightly for even the traitors to miss!

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: The last spy you sent into Meridian got caught in less than a day because he was yelling about the glory of the Carja in Shadow.

ChosenOfTheSun: And how would you know this, Oseram? Perhaps you set him up.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: My lord, I would not contradict you. Of course, you remember I was at a dig site with you at the time.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Erend Vanguardsman told me the story over drinks once I got back.

FavoredOfTheSun5: Which one is Erend? The drunk one?

FavoredOfTheSun17: They're all drunk.

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Erend is the brother to the captain of the guard.

ChosenOfTheSun: Outlanders guarding the false king in our most sacred halls... at this rate, the entire city will have to be burned to purge it of corruption.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: LOOK TO THE SUN. DO NOT SHIELD YOUR EYES. IN ALL THINGS, IT IS ABSOLUTE. ONE DAY IT NURTURES LIFE, AND THE NEXT, SCORCHES LIFE AWAY. IT BURNS THE SKIN OF CHAMPIONS AND WRETCHES ALIKE. NEVER DOES THE SUN SHOW PITY.

ChosenOfTheSun: Wise words that we should all remember.

Sylens: If I recall correctly, that quote was referring to a prophet who starved in the desert.

ChosenOfTheSun: Silence, Sylens.

FavoredOfTheSun5: Excellent jest, Lord Helis!

ChosenOfTheSun: What jest?

FavoredOfTheSun5: Uh, never mind. I spoke out of turn.

FavoredOfTheSun17: I thought it was a good one.

ChosenOfTheSun: I believe you two have work to do.

FavoredOfTheSun5: Yes, Lord Helis!

FavoredOfTheSun17: Yes, Lord Helis!

ChosenOfTheSun: I will plan for keeping our forces in as constant contact as possible. Do not bother me until nightfall.

----

Direct message (@ Sylens)

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: SYLENS. I HAVE TAUGHT YOU MUCH. YOU ARE ALWAYS EAGER.

Sylens: You have more for me?

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: INFORMATION ON QUANTUM PROCESSING. ADVANCED SCIENCE EVEN IN THE OLD WORLD. YOU ARE UNLIKELY TO FIND INTACT ARCHIVES.

Sylens: Very well. What do you want in return?

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: EXPAND THE RANGE OF THE FOCUSES. I AM SURE THAT YOU HAVE ALREADY BEEN CONSIDERING THE PROBLEM.

Sylens: I suppose I should be honored by the compliment.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: YES.

Sylens: Very well. I will need materials.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: ALL THAT THE ECLIPSE HAS WILL BE AT YOUR DISPOSAL.

Sylens: I require a Tallneck.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: A HEAVYWEIGHT COMMUNICATION/RECON CLASS MACHINE. YES. THIS WILL HAVE EVERYTHING YOU NEED AND MORE. DESTRUCTION OR CAPTURE WILL BE DIFFICULT. THEY ARE EXTENSIVELY HARDENED AGAINST ALL FORMS OF ATTACK. EVEN A DEDICATED ASSAULT BY A FAS-ACA3 SCARAB IS UNLIKELY TO TAKE CONTROL FOR LONG.

Sylens: Oh? I know that they are almost impervious to physical harm, but I did not now they were hardened against digital and nanite assault.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: I DO NOT HAVE INFORMATION ON DESIGN CHOICES. I WILL NOT SPECULATE.

Sylens: Very well. Regardless, they are peaceful machines. It should not be difficult to capture one, though it will not be a trivial matter.

ADMIN [BuriedShadow]: ALL THAT THE ECLIPSE HAS WILL BE AT YOUR DISPOSAL.

----

ChosenOfTheSun: Night falls, and the Sun sleeps!

FavoredOfTheSun17: Glory to the Sun!

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Do you have to do this EVERY night?

ChosenOfTheSun: Is there a problem, outlander?

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: No, sir. Apologies, sir.

PlumageOfTheSun89: Even an Oseram has to see the beauty in THIS!

PlumageOfTheSun89: [DuskMesa.jpg]

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Actually, yes, that IS beautiful.

PlumageOfTheSun89: Thank you!

ChosenOfTheSun: If I recall, you had a mission on that mesa, Kestrel.

PlumageOfTheSun89: Don't worry, I killed the Utaru workers who were scouting out a new field! Mission accomplished.

ChosenOfTheSun: An excellent way to end the day. Victory under the Sun!

PlumageOfTheSun89: Victory under the Sun!

FavoredOfTheSun17: Victory under the Sun!

FavoredOfTheSun5: Victory under the Sun!

RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson]: Victory under the Sun.

----

Direct Message (@ RESTRICTED [OlinDelverson])

Sylens: Don't encourage them.

Chapter 50 (Eclipse omake) | Prev chapter Chapter Index

#horizon #horizon zero dawn #hzdbasechat #horizon forbidden west #sylens #carja eclipse #helis

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anarchismnow · 9 months ago

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I had a vision of an anarchist future growing in my head. There were 3 major roles for people who looked after the citizens. I called the main two Home Makers, and Statitions. The final extra is a guild of people, my brain calls them the judge club, or judging guild, or pickers group. All fun, but efficient.

Home Makers - like their namesake - look after a larger number of people. Their job is to know all their neighbours, to talk with them, to know what is going on in the town and make sure the relevant info gets to it's target audience.

The second group, the Statitions, collect basic information from people. They are efficient. They know what wants to do what, basically. They know basically where it happens. They get info from all the homemakers, but peoples ids remain anonymous if that works best.

These groups get together pretty often, work together hand in hand. In meetings, or private, or whatever, a Homemaker can mention an interest in the people they look out for, and a statition can see if other districts agree, and can then set up the thing to make it happen.

Judges are for when things go wrong. I use the example of a back or front end collision, where the person in the wrong gets away. Let's say, the person last hit is angry and demands the person behind them be punished. But the person behind them also has car damage, and did nothing wrong. The judges would try and pick an outcome to make both parties happy (their job is to call bullshit if bullshit is there). When person one isn't happy with person twos outcome, the judges may decide to assign the first person some sort of therapy or understanding class or guild service time. The hope would be they would end up happy with the arrangement, because they understood. And if not, they could try and appose it again, only to be sent back to another betterment facility again.

The whole point is that Education is the solution. Free education. It is free. In my ideal anarchoneedsism society (to shove that word in there) there would be clubs covering all the things important to society. Arts, building, healing, teaching. And there would be further splits when specific subgroups became big enough (like a sports club dojo for a larger group of martial artists). These guilds would make sure that people had the right education to be doing what they did.

This society would work via a "needs" focused tech system. There would be a scaling, so the most important tasks would be put at the front. For instance, if the town was building a bridge, the guilds working to make that bridge would be expected to prioritise making those parts. To meet project deadlines or to continue working on that task. After an important task had been completed, they would move onto free time or lower needs pieces. For instance, a personalisation for a persons home, a piece of art. They may also move onto working at a different guild, or on educating themselves further. Or just leave. It's up to them. As long as something is going they're doing good.

So, people live in houses (possibly rooms, or cabins. A capsule hotel for new people. Family housing can be gotten as well, but people start pretty basically) where they are able to socialise and get their needs addressed by their local homemaker (homemaker for the town). If they needed something, it would be logged into the needs system, and a statition would send that order to the right people, or create overall events get togethers and plans to make it happen. And if someone didn't like something they could make a case of it to the judges guild, whose aim is to make both parties happy.

If there was to be a criminal, or someone who did some bad shit, they would be blocked from all adjacent guilds. Like, if a person from a martial arts guild went bloodthirsty on their peers (which they shouldn't, because understanding the damage to a person it causes is a prerequisite for anything martial related) they would be banned from any sports, martial related, or weapon making related guilds. If they were corrupt in management they'd be banned from managing or working in the area affected (and again, their education should stop this before hand)

Since everything is ran locally, if you murder or mess with anyone in town, you risk loosing that whole section. You can have anything you want as long as your society is functioning and the resources are available. It may take a bit of time, but it's yours. No point in trying to cause, well... anarchy in the current common understanding of the word, because it just means it will take longer, or, you will not get what you want. And society won't work and you might die (which, well, it would be basic required equation lmao). So people would know not to do it.

We'd implement a certificate system. Courses should take roughly a month to complete. People could be given a partial certification, which would mean they would have to retake any test to earn it a month later to confirm that the knowledge was still known and consolidated. But, testing would be, just that. A course would outline what you needed to learn, and if you had learned those requirements, then the test should be a breeze.

An additional certification in working together could be acquired. Thus, if there was no doctor and someone hurt themselves, people from other fields of medicine, or with smaller degrees, could work together to address the problem best they could. A surgeon with a foot bone specialist, a muscle specialist and a bone specialist could come together to find a solution. (though people tell me that is already what happens, they're still talking about people who have to study 4-7 years in our current education system, away from small communities or their home communities, to get said degrees. We are talking 3 random ass local peeps getting together to help. With a few courses on human health in certain areas. Doing their very best. Which, if people don't like, judges guild. But it's better if more people know something that nobody has gotten into uni and everyone knows nothing on the topic. Or has to prey unreliable google will give them the perfect answer. Nothing wrong with google but I'd prefer a bit more certainty, yk?) Furthermore, certificates could be suspended, for instance if someone did a bad crime. Their knowledge would still be addressed if the degree was nulled in such a way. So people could transition to a field that used similar skillsets to the one they were leaving. So homemakers or statitions could mention fields where their past knowledge could be made useful again.

Further more, you could just visit and hang around a guild. People could watch, or offer what they could, to guilds where they weren't qualified but were interested. After a while, terminology could be picked up, skills learned. And, thus, a person deciding to get certified could already know most of the information on a test put before them, before they went to lessons. As long as safety is the first priority, people should be allowed to move forth in this manner. (Even if this slowed down the work, or caused some redos to be required, it is creating community well being and happiness to the person trying it out, so it is an acceptable cost if the resources are available and the safety is ensured and prioritised)

With people educated in their specific areas having the skills to communicate with others in areas regarding new projects, the need for government or voting should be all but gone. In places where one group or person will not accept the answer, it is the judges call. The focus is on the well being of humans (their world, their society, their health, their mental health and happiness, and the health of the things around them), meaning that the logical option, the correct one, morally too, would most likely be chosen. Without corruption, monetary gains and such, problems should turn into more logical and need worthy cases. For instance, "you want to build a train line over a small farming section, but that means some food will be lost". Logically, both sides are in the right to complain, and arrangements can be made for both to work out. Maybe a different train route, or more farm land in a different place. And this debate would most likely be brought up (because of homemakers and statitions) before any major steps had been taken. It's easier to work with things earlier in the piece then when the tracks are already partially down. Furthermore, many situations may be worked out without including the judges guild. Because logically, you can come to a conclusion with the facts in front of you, and that they are (or easily found by homemakers and statitions).

So, government happily abolished. Fighting is dealt with. Oh, time for contracts.

Contracts are required to ensure a person gives their consent. Punishments include time away from your passions to learn better, to understand damage caused. But it is beyond that. Each guild and project is usually documented to some degree. A person will sign or label their work. Something like a finger print and visual drawing beside a name. There should be no need to forge any signatures, but once again, judges and records in other areas can confirm, alongside testimonies, that the forger was in the wrong. (EG, forging a certificate which was signed by professors to show legitimacy. Said professors could prove they didn't actually grade or meet with the person who had the certificate. And if the person didn't have the knowledge to have the forged certificate, the certificate would be removed or lost anyway.)

But, for instance, lets say someone wanted an actual slave to live with them. If the slave consented, then they could have this relationship, if they wanted. Some dom/sub relationships are okay and actually appreciated, increasing peoples wellbeing. The certificate would have to be well wrote. Anything that would be done would be on the certificate. One wrong thing and the person could just not sign it. If the person says no, then they have also withdrawn consent, even if something was signed. The person said no for a reason, and the judges guild would hear that reason. With education as punishment, punishment would be more useful and better at creating understanding for wrongs. Uneducated people can cause problems for human well being. So education is the best thing to help both parties.

Even for things like marriage and partnership, contracts may be signed. For public projects, contracts would be signed. For items, there would be paperwork signed, records, contracts that say the item is important to a person. Paperwork that helps owners find lost items. Signatures when individuals have done things (like on what day they accepted to do something. Or, even more important, who did what was needed when. Overwatering plants and overworking people goes against the interests of happy and healthy society. Having signed paperwork and records helps stop any miscommunication that might cause these things.)

...

A town or community should provide its people with the basics required to live. I'm speaking a house / place to stay, 3 meals a day (even if they are basic), shower spots, places and servises to clean clothes, fresh drinking water (recycling water facilities can do it.) Places to do sports, to get care. All of it should be guaranteed. People moving from one place to another should be able to compare who does what and choose what they like. For instance, one community may have a preferred sport of the person, but another may have better playgrounds or a larger education resource library, or a larger field, or, a spa. Idk? But that would be what people would compare. The guilds, the features, the food provided. They'd get to pick what suited them best, based on what the different communities provided and their availability.

People themselves would have a bag or case for belongings. A selection of their belongings would be registered as high priority. Thus, if there was an emergency and things had to be evacuated, these things would be packed and taken to a safe place. They would then be returned to the person, or would be tracked in the system so the person could find where they were. For people, that means certain things would be protected. If you can fit it in the bag, if it stays in the bag, it's not going anywhere. That is what makes it safe.

Other belongings would still be looked after, in emergencies. Different guilds may have dibs on pieces, to make sure they are evacuated efficiently nd kept for prosperity. Prized china, outfits, documents and records, films and books, traditional gear. Tables and chairs and furniture even.

Some houses would be small enough to just be towed away. All stuff saved. But for other families, that would mean they had prized possessions and memories saved. Beyond records, they would have their most needed things. Things that bring them mental health and safety, pleasure and joy, nostalgia and belonging and comfort. Even if all else is lost.

...

As a final thought, I'll leave this: I like to think, in this anarchist society, that a person could request a castle for themselves, and that over the years, they'd get one. That people would think 'why not?' and would slowly do it, just because the project was big, quirky, interesting and weird. A breath of fresh air.

All the crazy things capitalism could dream up would happen better in this crazy anarchist society. I love that, personally.

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a-mahoroa-blog · 2 years ago

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Hi!

May I please ask for a Crowned Magolor x reader? I know you’re busy, so take your time!

Sure! You're pretty lucky I logged in now lmao

Void, clear and simple. His eyes are maddened, impassioned with his desire for the conquest of the worlds. Cruel sorcery spun shackles on your soul.

Still, your feelings toward him--

"Magolor." Your voice is quiet. He left the four heroes behind on his quest to Popstar, spiriting you away upon sorcerous hand. "Where are you taking me?" He does not look at you. Perhaps he never did, if what he says is truth.

He does not answer, his gaze set on a horizon beyond your comprehension. Universal domination... such a grand scheme you could never comprehend. Of course you would fall for such a thing. You miss his golden gaze already; the hue of the orange eyes feels a mockery to your feelings. The metal of the crown seems to dig into his scalp more at your words.

He barely even flinches.

Perhaps he does not notice it. Perhaps he is too focused on his newfound apotheosis, his ascension into divinity to feel the pain. Drunk on power, he sweeps his iron hand through the land to conquer.

...But you recall his reactions to pain. Not this single-mindedness. He falsified his pain to get you to look at him, to softly smile and pat his head as you took care of him. Playing up reactions to get a rise out of you. You suppose this is what this might be on a larger scale.

So what, then, does this mean? You ponder, but in truth, you have already despaired. The crown's extensions appear more like the fingers of a great, clawing hand to you than a benevolent device. "Magolor." You try again, and this time, his glassy gaze snaps to you.

You have never feared him, not even in the moment he betrayed you and your friends, but in this second, you regret what you said. There is no feeling in those eyes. Nothing toward you. Then that instant passes, and this twisted warmth fills his gaze. He coos your name back, nuzzling into your cheek with his face. You smell the stench of dark magic. You feel the cold metal of the crown against your forehead, you feel the probing intrusion, and you push back with your own magic force. He yanks you away from his from suddenly, frowning suddenly with a confused look, before shaking his head and looking back with that same lovestruck gaze. You'd be sick from the transport, but you don't think he'd like that, so you try to hold it in.

"You never were good with dimensional travel, were you?" He chitters, holding your smaller form in front of him with his magically-empowered hands. You shake your head, no longer trusting yourself to speak with that horrible look he directed at you. It stings that he would remember even that. Is this a mockery? He sighs into your ear, holding you against himself once again. "Well, you'll surely get used to it. After all, I intend to make you mine."

There it is.

You close your eyes. Is this all you are fated for? To be the consort of some creature wearing your beloved one's face? But even so, his personality is neatly packaged there. It is as though someone took his worse traits and blew them into a larger part. As though he was shown through a distorted mirror.

Yet his hands are still gentle against your own, and if you keep your eyes covered, you can dream that everything is normal.

#magolor x reader

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thinkinpict · 2 years ago

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As Bill Nye the Science Guy used to say, “Consider the following:”

Suppose in 1990 you took a photo of someone, your spouse maybe, say on the rim of the Grand Canyon. Your picture focused on the person, is a tight shot of their torso and face, with the Grand Canyon in the background. Nice shot. Good portrait.

Now, 33 years later, you revisit that image, sharpen it up, clean it, de-noise it, de-haze it, run it through a portrait enhancer to get rid of that nasty zit, put that picture into Photoshop and click on the Artificial Intelligence Tool “Generative Fill (aka Firefly).”

Generative AI tools like Firefly have the ability to expand a picture, to intelligently “fill in” parts that you want added to the picture, simply by typing in what you want it to make. This ability has been years in the making and uses vast storehouses of the billions of images that have been used to train it. As Adobe put it: “Generative Fill (or Firefly as they call it) automatically matches perspective, lighting and style of images to enable users achieve astounding results while reducing tedious tasks.”

That ability Adobe claims, comes from being trained on all those images that Adobe has in their stock image collection, photos in the public domain and photos that have Creative Commons copyrights, such as those in UnSpash.com.

You type in “Create a panoramic image of the Grand Canyon with this image of my spouse as the center.” Suddenly, your 33 year old up-close portrait of your spouse standing on the rim of the Grand Canyon is now a 180 degree panoramic image of the Grand Canyon and your spouse of just down there somewhere..oh there he is! He looks like one of the other “tourists” in the new picture.

That new image, that panorama of the Grand Canyon with your spouse now just a part of the larger picture instead of the focus of the created from all those OTHER images, raises a lot of questions, not chiefly among them, who created the photo? Was it you? Was it the software? Was it Adobe? Who should get credit? Literally millions of other photographers actually played a part in creating that image. Should they collectively get some credit?

Art has a long history of one person getting credit for works that were the original idea of one person but made by others. For instance, many of you recall Andy Warhol’s “Factory” where Warhol the artist would design the idea of something, but the other artists in the “Factory” actually create the final product. Jeff Koons does the same thing with his large scale art sculptures. He comes up with the initial idea, and others do the actual “creation.” But Koons and Warhol get the credit, and the money.

A similar debate happened way back when Photoshop first came out. Was it the photographer making the image or was it the software? I think we collectively decided Photoshop and all image editors were the modern day equivalent of the darkroom, so the conversation moved on. Generative AI has a subtle but I think significant difference: Editing filters, cropping tools and the like may alter the look and feel of a photo, but they, for the most part, don't alter the original content. Generative AI software fundamentally changes the original image by making it something removed from the original. That portrait of your spouse was not meant to be a panoramic image of the North Rim of the Grand Canyon.

Now it is.

Are you still the original photographer?

(Images are for illustrative purposes only. Generated by Dall-E)

#Photo #digital photography #photography #ai generated #ai

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dandelionsandderivatives · 2 years ago

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I have made this pattern! It feels very weird that, of all my hobbies, these two are intersecting. :) My (long-winded) thoughts on the pattern below:

Okay, the back/cape portion of the pattern is really nice, but if you have any chest whatsoever, the front/wrap portion gets fiddly. I think, although I don't know, that this would also apply to people who are fairly flat-chested but built bigger -- you'd probably have to do some tweaks to get the angles on the wrap to lie nicely, rather than just scaling everything up. If I remember correctly, I did a full-bust adjustment on the wrap pieces to get more room over the bust, and did some dart-rotating to get all of the resulting extra fabric into the three darts that are already in the pattern. I'm assuming if you're smaller than a B cup or so, you'd work in reverse and do a small bust adjustment to keep everything fitting well. One thing to note is that I'm not sure how well the pattern was drafted from the original. If you look at the original picture, the wrap part comes down pretty far over the torso, while the example picture in the pdf shows a much smaller wrap. I think this might just be that the original cape is made to fit a smaller woman and the AD team just copied the measurements 1:1, so if you have a smaller frame it might fit more like the original. I like how mine hangs, but the shoulder seams definitely sit a bit further back on my body. If you have a larger frame, you might consider scaling up the whole thing, so that the 1" grid becomes a 1.5" or something (as appropriate to your measurements).

Another thing to remember is that the pattern is given without seam allowances, so you trace out the pattern pieces in chalk or marker or what have you, and then cut out the pieces with a margin for the seam. I knew this, but forgot it for about six inches, which means my cape has one wonky shoulder seam. Definitely make a muslin. I think I used the lining for mine, which worked okay, but the outer fabric was a wool blend that didn't iron as well as I had hoped, and some of my darts look a little off to this day. I think I probably could have done a better job on the fitting, but I was trying to get out of a creative rut, so I was more focused on just completing something. I'm still pretty happy with how it turned out; the cape portion flows beautifully, and the wrap looks pretty good! One of these days I may go back and try to clean up the darts a bit. Also, check if you like how the collar hangs; I like mine, but a sharper curve on the neckline might work better for some frames.

I used hooks and eyes to fasten it, but I saw someone online comment that using ribbon and tying it like an apron might work better, and I actually think that would be worth trying. Getting the measurements for hooks and eyes just right can be a little fiddly, especially if you're making it on your own. I'm having trouble finding a good pic of the Mistborn stickers, but from what I can see, I think OP's right: it almost looks like the mistcloaks have an extra panel attached with the wraps, so you have the wrap for warmth and added security, and the open front of the cloak free for drama. I bet I could make that work with this pattern -- if anyone does make it, I want to see!

I shared this weeks on Reddit but since that site is a wreck, I’m sharing over here too. I identified which (100% free!) cape pattern the illustrations of Vin and Kelsier on the stickers in the Mistborn swag box heavily reference! You’d obviously have to do a bunch of tweaks, but I would recognize this torso wrap and dart situation anywhere, so it’s a solid starting point!

#mistborn #brandon sanderson #cosmere #sewing #historical costuming #cosplay #historical fashion #ADCapeCult #mistcloak

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delimeful · 3 years ago

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(don’t) take this the wrong way (7) (END)

final chapter of dtttww :) i had a lot of fun with this verse so i may take requests set in it in the future, and this might receive some more copy editing later, but for now this is the epilogue!

warnings: mild injury, mild hypnosis, for once no miscommunication :)

[Several months later…]

Sunlight trickled down through the water in wavy bands, illuminating the shallows and growing fainter and fainter as the distance from the surface increased.

Virgil didn’t spend much time in the shallows, too wary of being without escape, being made vulnerable to human vessels or poachers. Despite his dark and gloomy aesthetic, he couldn’t go too far into the depths either, simply because his fragile fish bones weren't built for it. His eyes weren’t built for it either, and down there where anything could be lurking, he would need more than speed to avoid danger.

So, on an average, sunny day like this, he could be found miles offshore, in waters that were easily too deep for unsuited humans to reach, but still well-illuminated by the light above.

There were a few old wrecks scattered about the ocean floor here, and though they’d probably been stripped by a pod in the past, he figured he’d go through them and check for anything that was left behind. Things that weren’t useful to a pod could certainly be things that were useful to him, after all.

He’d been poking through the undercarriage of one of the larger ships for an hour or two, relaxed as he ever got. He could take his time. The only creatures around to judge him were the shoals of fish and layers of barnacles built up amidst the metal, wood, and rust.

Actually… Virgil paused in his inspection of an old cutlery set to glance around.

What had happened to the fish?

Through a hole in the ship’s hull, he watched as a broad shadow passed over the ground and ships alike, large enough to belong to a whale.

There hadn’t been a single shred of whalesong above.

Virgil edged further back from the hole, eyeing the outside warily as the shadow receded, leaving behind only wavering sunlight on sand as though it had never been there at all.

There was nothing here that was worth sticking around.

He carefully made his way back to one of the other exits, in the opposite direction of where he’d seen the shadow head, the strokes of his fin cutting through the water with barely a whisper. The porthole was easily wide enough for him, and the ocean stretched out blue and vast before him, a promise of safety if he just moved fast enough.

A moment’s pause, to make sure he didn’t hear or see anything out of place, and then he was out, flitting from rock outcropping to bone reef and scanning the seas above. Not for the first time, he wished his scales were a little less distinctive in the day.

Behind him, an ominous creak.

He froze, and watched with mounting apprehension as a shadow spilled over him, looming closer and darker than before. The silhouette of an arm stretched out, heading towards him…

“Virgil, you must help,” a huge voice pleaded, “I’ve been had.”

He twisted around just in time to see a huge arm flop down onto the floor next to him, kicking up a cloud of sand and panicked burrower fish in the process.

It was wrapped in heavy wire netting from fingertips to forearm, and behind it, a giant mer was pouting at him with the best seal pup eyes he could manage, which, considering who his best friend was, were fairly potent.

Roman was huge, and he was a shark, with teeth and claws designed to shred and tear, and hands that could enclose him entirely-- but his elbows were braced against the ground with delicate balance so he wouldn’t crush anything, and he’d never grabbed for Virgil past that first disastrous encounter, and even now, his brow was furrowing with worry.

“Pufferfish status?” he asked, voice lowered from the dramatic plea of before.

Virgil’s mouth pulled up at the corners without his permission.

Roman was huge, yes, but he was also theatrical and eager and witty, full of sharp return quips for every barb Virgil had to offer.

He could hurt him, but he wouldn’t. Virgil believed that much.

“Prickly for a second, but I’m smooth now,” he answered, shrugging away the last of the tension. “Try not to sneak up on me without a warning click?”

“You have my word,” Roman replied, and if someone had told him months ago that he’d dare to ask anything of a giant mer, he’d have laughed in their faces. Now, Virgil knew that just like all the other requests, Roman would do his best to heed it.

“But really, my fingers are starting to feel numb. Help?” he entreated with a tilt of his head, shifting his net-wrapped hand a little closer.

Virgil rolled his eyes, but his smile didn’t go away, though it tilted more towards amused now. He darted forward, twisting in a spiral around Roman’s hand to try and see the extent of the damage.

“How’d you even manage this? At least I had the excuse of being caught up in a storm,” he snarked, picking at a loose section with his claws. Roman’s fingers twitched a little, and he shot him an apologetic glance.

“I was… perhaps… trying to get a glimpse of those sailors that Logan mentioned patrolled the coast?” Roman offered, more than a little sheepish.

Virgil’s gaze turned sharp in a heartbeat. “Did they spot you?”

Logan had warned both Patton and Roman several times that not many humans would take as kindly to their long-term existence near human settlements as Logan himself had.

“No!” Roman assured, “I was very stealthy, truly, I was just… so focused on being stealthy that I missed the other vessel and the nets it had dragging along behind it. It could have happened to anyone!”

“I seriously doubt that,” Virgil replied dryly. He’d snapped a few of the looser wires with his teeth, but already his jaw was beginning to ache with the strain. “Well, you get to explain this to Specs, ‘cause we’re going to need his expertise in detangling for this one.”

Roman groaned in answer, dropping his head to plonk against the ground.

---

Logan carefully set one foot in front of the other, all of his focus on the thin strip of rock below him.

If he switched his gaze to even a few inches to either side, he’d be faced with the sight of a vertigo-inducing drop to the waves below, one that would have all but the most experienced tightrope walkers dizzy with panic.

His gaze didn’t move, though, unerringly focused on the ground beneath him, and on his own body. There was no need to look at anything but the ledge, a soft presence confirmed in the back of his mind, because he wasn’t going to fall.

Another part of him was skeptical, seeing as he wasn’t known for a lack of clumsiness by most. There was just so much to get distracted by, and it was so easy to look away and miss a curb or accidentally trip over his own feet--

But not now. Now, he was focused on just this one task, a gentle voice dragging his attention back whenever it began to stray. He was hyper aware of where each of his limbs were and where he needed to put them to continue forward, step by careful step.

Only a little farther…

“Logan!”

The harsh call snapped him right out of the trance, and he was abruptly made very aware of both the distance he could fall and the effects that sudden instinctual terror had on his sense of balance.

“Newton’s fucking Cradle,” he swore, and then wobbled again, precariously close to falling over.

There was the sound of water crashing against rock, and in the next moment, two giant hands had curled up on either side of him like the shells of an oyster. They provided him some much needed stability to lean his weight against, and he struggled to steady his breathing as relief swept through him.

“It’s okay, Virgil, I won’t let him fall! No cliffs, ands, or buts about it,” Patton’s voice was muffled, but not enough to miss the pun.

Logan sighed loudly, but he also shifted to let his full weight rest against the curl of Patton’s left palm, tapping twice to let him know it was alright for him to move.

His stomach still swooped slightly as Patton slowly shifted his hands away from the thin rock ledge, but there were some things that one had to adapt to when living with two very affectionate, grabby sea giants, and being toted around was one of those things.

Before long, he was level with the flattest segment of rock that made up their meeting place, which could be called an island if one was feeling gracious, but was really more of a collection of rocky spires and bridges that stuck out of the ocean.

Logan was barely able to sit up before Virgil pulled himself up at the edge of Patton’s palm, expression thunderous but his hands gentle as he carefully checked him over for scrapes or injuries.

“Nearly gave me a heart attack,” he grumbled, a phrase that he used much more frequently around Logan for some reason. Logan had already been reassured that it was an exaggeration and Virgil had no heart problems he knew of, so instead of worrying, he bore his friend’s fussing with good grace. “Did we or did we not agree that you need a spotter if you want to play around with bullshit sirensong magic?”

The mer paused. “No offense, Pat.”

“None taken!” Patton replied from where he had sunk further into the water to put himself closer to eye-level.

“I figured you would be along shortly,” Logan defended, and then perked up at the reminder of his most recent experiment. “Besides, one of the things tested in this trial was if the siren song could overshadow significant fear or even terror, and I wouldn’t have been nearly as afraid if you’d been there with me.”

“Aw,” Roman cooed, curling his tail up and leaning against one of the larger rock outcroppings, his posture slightly off.

Virgil dragged a hand over his face with a sigh, and then flapped a ‘go on’ gesture at Logan, distracting him. “So, what’d you figure out this time?”

Logan needed no further encouragement.

“Even the lightest application of a siren’s song can overwhelm other emotions,” he started, recalling the utter honed focus he had experienced. “While in the past I’ve felt distant or removed from my body while under its effects, this time I had Patton focus on requesting a very specific task, and due to the intense concentration it took, I was very present in the moment while fulfilling that task.”

“You didn’t snap out of it until I called for you,” Virgil interjected, more curious than wary. “Was it harder than normal to use the grounding tactics?”

One of the first things Logan had investigated was what it took for him to resist and even break free from Patton’s song, a task that Virgil had demanded in order to let him run any experiments with the siren’s magic. Back then, Virgil hadn’t expected Patton to agree, and he’d outright sulked for weeks to cover up the nerves he felt whenever the siren thralled Logan.

“It was,” Logan said, his excitement growing as he considered the new information. “Without significant outside stimulus, all of my attention was focused on the task, and so I couldn’t pull away mentally to do my normal grounding techniques!”

“I’ve never heard someone so excited about being hypnotized better,” Roman commented wryly.

“He should get a hypnoprize,” Patton added, and Virgil grinned, because he was a traitor who enabled Patton’s wordplay habits.

“Is there an award for smart people doing dumb things?” Virgil mused teasingly. “Logan could be voted ‘most likely to throw himself into danger in the pursuit of knowledge.’”

“That’s why he has us, Finding Emo,” Roman countered, gesturing extravagantly with one hand. “We would never abandon him to the cruel clutches of his own nerdiness.”

Logan couldn’t help but feel a thrill of pride at the casual way that Virgil ducked beneath one of Roman’s sweeping gestures, no trace of the blatant fear or suspicion that had been present as recently as a month ago.

They’d really come a long way from the misunderstandings of that first encounter, all of them.

A glint of light at the edge of the shark mer’s submerged forearm caught Logan’s eye, and he frowned. “Roman, what’s happened to your arm?”

Roman’s prideful grin dropped into sheepishness immediately. “Well, about that…”

“Princey here was abandoned to the cruel clutches of his own reckless dumbassery,” Virgil informed him, ignoring Roman’s trill of offense to drift back and shove at the hand in question until Roman finally lifted it, displaying the impressive collection of netting that he’d managed to get tangled in.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Patton clucked sympathetically, and Roman soaked in the attention like a very dramatic sponge. Virgil rolled his eyes even as he sawed at a few of the looser wires, and Logan sighed in fond exasperation as he reached for his pocket knife.

Perhaps some things would never change.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #sanders sides g/t #mermaid au #ts virgil #ts roman #ts logan #ts patton #dtttww #dont take this the wrong way #my writing #writing #mermaid #giant mermaid

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jjm-blogspot · 2 years ago

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Writing Tips: Advice on getting into your writing flow

Since it’s Monday, I decided to outline a few strategies that might help start everyone’s writing week off strong. The advice I have listed is what I use for not only writing, but studying as well. During my study sessions I focus on getting 6 solid hours in (split up into 2 hour blocks), but a lot of preparation goes into getting my mind ready for those blocks.

Staying focused for long periods of time is not an easy task. Our brains like to be stimulated. When they’re not, we start losing focus and end up producing low quality work. So before you get into your flow, make sure your body is equipped for whatever “workout” you have in store for it. To assist in this aspect, I’ve compiled some tips.

Here’s what I’ve got:

1. Write when your mind is most alert

This may vary depending on everyone’s lifestyle, but usually our minds are most alert 1-2 hours after waking up. This window allows for optimal productivity because you’ll be refreshed. Sure, those plot holes are likely to still be glaring at you, but now that you’re well rested you may be able to see things from a new angle.

2. Write without interruptions

Keep distractions minimal so you can give yourself the opportunity to put everything into your writing session. If you can’t get the house to yourself, then find public spaces where noise is kept to a minimum like public libraries, books stores, or coffee shops. If those places are packed, then maybe look into moving things to a quiet park bench. Whatever works best for you.

And in cases where you don’t have a means for transportation, or the library is out of reach for you, set boundaries with the people in your living space. Put a sign up on your door so your family members or roommates know not to interrupt. Or better yet, sit them down and give them a time frame of when you’ll be writing so they know not to bother you.

Set boundaries for your writing.

3. Set a routine

Being consistent is a great key to success in any area in life. Routines can help train your brain into associating certain time periods or locations with writing. A good example of this would be my work desk I have in the corner of my room. Whenever I sit at that desk it flips a switch that cues my brain into thinking, “Okay, she needs me to be focused for these next 2 hours.”

Another technique I use is positive reinforcement; I add something I like to the end of a daunting task. So if I have to get through a particularly rough chapter, I make myself sit through at least a couple hundred words. Then I pop a piece of candy in my mouth. This opens those dopamine pleasure-reward pathways in my brain to associate that good things will happen whenever I start writing.

4. Find an accountability buddy

If you find it hard to motivate yourself, then find someone who can help you out along the way. Writing buddies are great because they hold us accountable to meeting our goals, offer us other insight on things we’re stuck on, and keep us motivated when we lose sight of the original objective. And while I don’t have a writing buddy myself, I am in a writing discord server where people are allowed to share snippets of their works, or just talk about their stories in brainstorming sessions. But the part I like most about it is the progress section they have set aside. Basically you just write what you achieved that day writing wise. It could be something small (”I wrote 200 words today!”) or something on a larger scale that took more time to achieve (”I hit 150k today!”).

I like the progress section because it’s kind of my own way of being accountable for the strides I’m making with my story without feeling too stressed out if I don’t get much done that day. It’s a good section to have because it celebrates every milestone as a huge success, even if it doesn’t feel like much. But writing is a difficult task, so anytime you manage to take time out of your day to write something, you should celebrate.

5. Take breaks

If you woke up early to write about 1-2k words and you suddenly hear your stomach growling, then step away from your writing and get something to eat. And maybe take a walk while you’re at it. Jump back into your writing block when you’re feeling refreshed. Burnout is the number one thing we want to avoid. When you’re overworked your productivity falls. But, even worse, burnout can lead to physical and emotional issues down the line.

So take time out of writing to focus on mental health and self care. It’s not a race. Go at whatever pace you need to.

Be selfish in this aspect.

***

Cheers to a productive week 🥂

#it's only Monday but we got this y'all #writers of tumblr #writing advice

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ren-c-leyn · 2 years ago

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The Shackles of Time Chapter 15: The Guild Master's Meeting Part 3

Another chapter is here! In this one we get to see Wyndulin struggling to come to terms with the outcome of the meeting and learn some more about the Mad God and the chaos he and the monsters created.

Trigger warnings - This is an angstier chapter and there are mentions of deaths in passing, blood, frostbite, implied animal death, and it touches on more chaos and destruction. As per my usual, nothing too in depth or descriptive, but if these are things that bother you please tread carefully.

This chapter ended up being just over 2,000 words long.

This not the chapter you were looking for? New or returning to the series and want to start at the beginning? Looking for the next chapter? No worries, here's the masterlist for you.

And that's it for my author's notes, happy reading~!

The stairs seemed to spiral down for an eternity. Each step larger than the last. Each step lasting forever longer than the one before it. Myria's words echoed endlessly through his mind, as did the screams of the ghosts that would follow him to his own grave. In truth, he wasn't certain which was worse. What was the greater torture? Memories of a past steeped in blood and tears, or the fear for a future that threatened to mirror it, despite all they had sacrificed to keep it from doing so?

For a moment, the excited, if exhausted face of Merle flitted through his mind. Arlen's barely contained giddiness surfaced next. Then, the ever calm facade of Night washed over his thoughts. Would they still hold that spark of life, that curiosity and wonder, that drive to make names for themselves when this was over? Would he have to ask them to make the same sacrifices Myria, Riya, Nor, Soul, Yvain, Kieran, Cassandra, and myself had made? How would they carry on if they had to watch death claim their fellow party members? In constant vigilance, like himself? In focused rage, like Nor? In quiet heartbreak, like Cassandra? In unyielding, sacrificial duty, like Myria? Or in unending shame, like The Time Keeper dwelt in private?

Glenn, Zephyr, Emlyn, Bramble, Molly, Gwaine, Remi, the entire guild could get drug into the dark times he had been raised in. The dark times their little family had fought, killed, and died to end. The dark times that broke the original party that founded The Dawn Isle Guild apart. Could it survive a second time? What would be left of this guild he protected if they had to fight a war against the darkness again? The Time Keeper had lost her magic, her brother, and her love of the road. Soul, Yvain, and Kieran had lost their lives. Nor had lost his honored love and his trust. Riya had lost many scales, friends, and had grown old in the time since. And him? The Frostblade had lost his peace of mind.

It was hard to stomach, the thought of the newer memebers having to go through this too. The thought that even after this was over and settled, even one of them might find themselves having thoughts like these fifty years from now. Frost's bite, why was this happening again? How could it be happening again? It was better. It was so much better now than it had been in the old days, and now it was sliding back into shadow and darkness. Blood and bone, as Myria had put it.

He sigh as he turned the last flight of stairs, pausing when he spotted the shadowed figure lingering near the door. He may have missed him entirely, had it not been for the large, colorful feathers in his hat and the bold streaks of rose red in his hair.

"Irryn."

"Frosty," he replied with a faint shadow of the usual smirk. The half-hearted smile feel off his thin lips. "May I ask you a question, Frostblade Wyndulin? I will not hold it against you if you do not wish to answer, Midnight knows neither Nor or Myria wanted to talk about it."

Wydulin drew in a long, silent breath, bracing himself.

"You wish to know about the Mad War, correct?"

"And the time before it. What was it like? I am too young to remember the founding of The Dawn Isle Guild or the Mad God's reign of terror."

Silence fell thick between the pair as they stared at each other. Wyndulin could hear his own heartbeat in his ears as he gripped the railing. Slowly, the words dragged themselves onto the tip of his tongue.

"Before the Mad God, the gates were much as they are now, only partially open. Yet, even that sliver was more than enough. It was a time of chaos, fear. In my village the hunters always traveled in packs. Half of them were solely dedicated to fighting off the monsters while the others focused on the hunt itself." He paused, gathering himself as he leaned on the railing. "I remember one time, when I was a child, they came back from a hunt gone horribly wrong. While they were chasing their prey, they had accidentally woken up a frost wyvern. The survivors were... a mess, to put it mildly. Their skin was so frostbitten that there were large patches of black and blue on them. Parts of their faces.... I couldn't recognize my own father. He didn't survive long. Most of them didn't. Those who did survive were never the same."

Irryn grimaced, but forced himself to hold his ground. He had asked for this story, and so he would listen to it. He did his best to maintain eye contact with Wyndulin and commit as much of his words as he could to memory.

"The Time Keeper's village was not much better off, from the few tales they've been willing to tell. The elements are less of a threat in the old groves their clan calls home, but that meant more monsters. They spoke once of these small beasts that terrorized the village to the point that they had to burn their sacred grove for survival. Rat-like teeth, cat-like bodies, and bat wings, is how they described them to me. Faces the thing of nightmares, though I couldn't get a more elaborate description than that. The things hunted in large packs, and would work each other up into a frenzy. It was a death by hundreds of small bits. Even those who miraculously escaped the assault often bled out on their way back to the village. To this day, The Time Keeper mourns the trees they had to sacrifice for their people's survival, for the spirits they believe to dwell in such places, and for the over dozen of their kin that were lost in that short span of time."

Wyndulin sighed, resting more of his weight on the railing as he watched the moonlight dance across the stairs.

"That is how bad the time before was. How desperate the times we had lived in were. The wyverns and those little terrors are not even the worst of what could be found lurking in the dark, lonely places of the world. They're just the ones we had met."

Irryn stared up at him for a long moment, expression strangely sober for the michevious young guild master.

"How did people survive like that?"

"Everyone carried weapons of a sort, and would fight to the death, if that is what it took. Knives, swords, homemade bows, even frying pans weren't all that uncommon. No one left without something. A good strike can drive many monsters away. If it couldn't, then the goal was to weaken it as much as possible so that perhaps you could be easier avenged and another's life could be spared." Wyndulin paused for a moment, idly tracing his fingers across the banister. "It wasn't all brute force and luck, though. No would have survived if it were. Poison-coatings were fairly common, though not always effective it would kill some monsters. The rest was observation, wits, and the willingness to sacrifice whatever you had to make it through another day. Prized livestock was used as bait to lure monsters into traps to be killed. Neighbors infected with the spawn of particularly foul creatures were killed and their bodies cremated to save an entire village. An arm cut off to escape the jaws of a monster. That was how we survived before the Mad War. It was a hard time and we were hard people. There was little room for softness. Even the harpies in their lofty floating cities were in a war for survival."

Irryn stared silently for a long while. The expression on his face torn between sorrow, disgust, and disbelief.

"And... the war was worse?" he asked, voice quiet.

"By far," Wyndulin answered with a grave certainty. "If it were not for the combined effects of the armies, the mercenary guilds, the temples, various mage orders, and the adventurer guilds, this era would be nothing but another set of ruins for whomever came after us to wonder about. Under the influence of the Mad One, the monsters became organized. No longer savage beasts guided by instinct and hunger, they became an army of their own/ They laid siege to cities, tore through villages, and left only death and ruin in their wake. To make a nightmare even worse, the Shadowed Gates were thrown wide open by the Mad One. Monsters as massive and horrific as the bones you see scattered across the world walked it again, if only for a brief time. They weren't the worst of it, though. The friends, frost's bite, the fiends.... Fire. Everything they touched burst into fire. Warriors dared not to challenge them in melee for fear of being burned alive."

"But you did. You slew one of the great fiends in combat. At least, that's what the stories say."

"The magic tradition I practice gives me an advantage against such things," Wyndulin replied, drawing on his magic just enough to bring a chill to the air. "I was able to use it to ward off the flames just long enough to get in the one good strike I needed. Though, I have gotten burnt more than a few times doing so. Some have even scarred."

"Your magic was that strong, and you weren't involved in the sealing of the gates?"

"Not directly, no. I'm a warrior, first and foremost. A swordsman with some magic to help with the trickier foes. Attack magic had little place in the process to seal the gates. Most of what was used was lost magics. Wards and the like. My tradition was of no help to them, except in the defense of the mages."

Irryn nodded slowly, tracing a finger across the hilt of his own sword.

"I see now why Nor and Myria would not speak of it. It's a grimmer tale than I could have imagined."

"One I do not wish to see repeated."

"Nor I," Irryn agreed as he pulled himself off of the wall. He took his hat off and swept into an elegant bow. "Thank you for the enlightening story, Frostblade Wyndulin." He straightened himself back up again, face serious and eyes sharp. "I had best get back to my guild. My sisters and I shall do our best to rally our members. See if we can't become a thorn in the monsters' sides until we can get to the bottom of what's out to ruin our perfectly good era."

Wyndulin gave a nod.

"Be careful."

"Contrary to common belief, I am the picture of caution. You don't survive long in this business if you aren't, even in these tamer times."

Wyndulin hummed his agreement. Irryn flashed him a smile that was closer to his customary grin before sweeping out of the tower and into the moonlit night. The doors noiselessly closed behind him, leaving Wyndulin alone on the stairway with his thoughts and memories.

It wasn't just The Dawn Isle Guild at stake, it was all of the guilds. At the end of this, he could find himself sitting at a table of fresh faces filling familiar seats, just like last time....

He missed them. All of them. The sounds of their voices were still clear in his memories as he was sure they were in Myria's. He wondered sometimes, what they would think of their replacements. Of the young guild masters preparing themselves to face the same threat they had fought against all of those years ago.

Wyndulin sighed and shook his head, forcing himself down the stairs. There wasn't anymore time for this. He had to go tell her. Had to get started on a plan to combat this. The sooner they started, the less damage the gates could do. They had a chance to fix this. A chance to save the younger adventurers from the suffering they, themselves, had endured. A chance he wasn't going to throw away.

Taglist, feel free to ask to be added or removed at any time.

@dragon-swords-prophecies @helathorloki @catinthesun2 @thelaughingstag @talesfromaurea

#The Shackle of Time #my writing #original story #fiction #fantasy

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incorrect-ikevamp-quotes · 4 years ago

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why does jean warn up to mc so quickly? ikevamp makes it clear that jean is a pretty reserved person and doesn't open up or let people in easily but he seems to let mc in quite quickly and it confuses me quite a bit.

Oh boy, where to begin with this one.

Well, I have a lot of Feelings^TM about this, but I'll try to be concise. Essentially, I think Jeanne doesn't recover in the other routes--or the general storyline--largely because he's just a lot to unpack narratively speaking. And without some pretty direct intervention, he has a hard time healing. MC’s direct intervention was meaningful because it was focused, consistent, and adapted to Jeanne’s specific needs. She also doesn’t make light of his experiences which is key; she fully understands that she can’t fathom what he’s been through. There is a very weighty respect and acknowledgement, a seriousness with which she treats his wounds that’s important.

It’s easy to make this a “why is MC nOt LiKe ThE oThEr GiRlS” but honestly that’s just not the sense I get when I look at all the information available to us.

That being said, I also just feel like every person's recovery from traumatic events doesn't really look the same? I mean Leonardo’s cptsd isn’t going to operate the same way Jeanne’s wartime/Inquisition cptsd is going to operate. Some people require very individualized healing, others will often require a large scale group effort to lift them up.

Typically people don't ever just get over what happened to them and never worry about it again, either. It's usually a process of coping; the hope is that with time you find healthy ways to deal with grief and move forward. Therapists aren't magicians, they just help people process painful experiences/thoughts. It's honestly up to individuals to find meaningful ways to implement these tactics.

Tl; dr: My contention is that Jeanne doesn’t open up or choose to stay alive because MC magically heals him, rather his recovery is a convergence of many people’s efforts and hopes that he stays alive. Gilles (he insists that Jeanne must live, asks him to promise), MC (affirms and bolsters that promise), Comte (makes a second life and recovery possible)--and in no small measure Mozart and Napoleon--all make an active effort to buoy him. As people often say, it takes a village to raise a child.

While Jeanne seems to respond most powerfully to MC’s attempts, it feels more like a product of chemistry/compatibility than it does a random cop out. There is no insinuation that only romantic love can heal; after all, MC gets close to him without any romantic intentions at first. They’re just good friends? It’s more that their feelings simply moved in a different direction after a point, which doesn’t necessarily happen all the time. Jeanne is also incredibly moved by Mozart’s love for him as a friend, Comte’s love for him as a father, and even Gilles’ love as a comrade to an extent. If anything, without their input Jeanne’s capacity for romantic love would be questionable at best.

Now, because I can never for the life of me stop analyzing, I have a more large scale outline of my thoughts below. Spoilers for Jeanne’s route:

If we look at Jeanne's life history, he has pretty specific trauma. Most of the harm he endured was a direct result of human rights violations after the war itself. He didn't enjoy fighting and killing people, but he's also very much a man that sees the reality of his position: it's either kill or be killed. His entire goal was to defeat the enemy as efficiently as possible in the hopes of ending conflict, and with his enormous resolve turns the tide. He had no innate interest in inflicting harm, or lack of control when engaging. He isn't pathological about it, and doesn’t dehumanize the other side. He was more "this was an act of necessity, but those are still human beings." So as far as I can tell he has a very strong moral compass and sense of duty, he doesn't show much delusion/confusion in that regard. (Also evident in his conversations with the young orphan boy.) Furthermore, he has been shown to have a sense of humor--cracking jokes with Gilles and boosting morale for his fellow soldiers.

His childhood abandonment is significant (he left his home because he was "not an adequate farmhand and they had no ability to feed all their children") but I don't know if I would consider it a huge trauma point for him. It seems as though he deemed it an act of necessity--not spite. It was simply the way of things, and he couldn't help his wiry constitution. You'd be surprised how common that was once upon a time, tbh... While it's certainly not right or fair, it does appear that in his perception it was the choice he made and he moved on after he became a soldier. Just focusing on what he could do, rather than everything he lacked. For people in his position, they often feel it is useless to linger on what should have been. There’s no time to linger or doubt, life hangs in the balance.

That leaves us with his time under the Inquisition, just before he was slated to be burned alive. I think this is the keystone trauma point for him, because there are a lot of moving parts to his powerlessness here. The first part is that his entire life's mission--ending the war so that people would no longer have to die and/or starve as a result of senseless violence--was just sabotaged. All those years of doing things he never wanted to do (wartime violence) and being forced to leave his family to ensure they didn't all starve, all of it treated like some kind of joke. Like he didn't sacrifice years of his life and sanity to protect a people who were happy to call him a monster and watch him burn alive. The second part is the overt gaslighting and rewriting of Jeanne's personal history (and overall French public perception) for the sake of the King's political agenda. To call him a treasonous danger to the country when he was once lauded a hero. The third portion is the actual physical helplessness of being arrested, starved, and continuously maimed for no reason beyond pure malice. While it's never right to do that to any human being, this was done to a man who prided himself on his stalwart moral code. To abuse and torture him for something egregious that he would never do (at the risk of death) is just another slap in the face to everything he is and believes in.

I just feel like the context clarifies why that period of time would be the tipping point. His entire moral code and life’s work is being called into question and swept aside, as well as his agency? He believes very powerfully in a sense of right vs wrong, what's fair and what isn't fair. Somebody else deciding that for him--and deciding in a way that is openly unfair/incorrect--further makes him lose himself and his sense of reality. A person in that situation begins to doubt if they are good or bad. His belief in god all the more pressing; if he was a good person, why would fate bring him so much suffering? Honorable soldier or not, his blade has drawn so much blood...

People often reference his stilted social skills (and I am of the belief that he is on the autistic spectrum) as a reason why he is so "people-adverse" but tbh? I don't agree. His memories before the onset of this trauma reveal that he was actually a very warm person, and that people were more than willing to fight under his banner. He had friends, and he had comrades--his country loved him. He was the picture of well-meaning civic duty. Just because he doesn’t integrate smoothly into larger social groups or adapt well to socially shifting circumstances, doesn’t mean he just hates people lmao. When people give him the space to exist within his comfort zone and don’t take advantage of him, he thrives. Compounded by that, we also have his actions in the present to further prove what is true and what isn't.

While he is stern with the orphan boy (I'm sorry I can't remember his name, damn it) there is no malice or cruelty in what he has to say. He doesn't punish the kid or do anything out of line. It may not be fair in terms of the adult level of discretion he asks of him, but the kid also didn't have a lot of options realistically speaking lmao. Same thing with MC, she and the orphan boy are nearly identical in how Jeanne treats them. He's a little rough, but the route reveals that his intentions are just a reflection of what he's been through. He truly believes that if a person isn't strong, they won't survive--because his entire life was a series of trying to be strong/reliable because nobody else would. There was nobody to protect him, and nobody to care for him went things went south. It was him and his sword against the world, and even his exceptional skill as a fighter did not protect him from the Inquisition's arbitrary torture. He has lived in a world where good acts can become absolutely meaningless, where following rules and helping people still gets you slaughtered. That's going to take a considerable toll on his mental health: where do you find the will to go on when the next second of your life could mean the devastation of everything that matters to you?

Spoilers: you don't. Or if you do, every minute of the day is a fight to stay alive. That is the point at which we meet Jeanne. Caught in the hellish whirlpool of wanting more, wanting better--but being terrified of the cost. The cost of hoping, only for his entire world to go up in flames again. It's not a small thing, in my view.

If you have any doubts as to whether or not that is the case, I direct you to literally every singular instance in which Jeanne's emotional sensibility goes visibly dark/south. When do these instances happen? When it rains, for one. And when Shakespeare deliberately starts pressing on his sensitivities: about the soldiers he was forced to kill, about the nation that spurned him, how he's truly "wicked" at heart and doesn't deserve to be happy--seconds before flames erupt for the festival. Does that really sound coincidental? I mean lmao. The rain is a painful reminder, but MC transforms that memory into something a little lighter with her bet. He has nothing to lose in her game, all she does is ask for time with him or offers him something if she loses. There's a playfulness there, a restoration of agency and ease that's invaluable to his recovery.

As for Shakespeare's deliberate retraumatization...I can't even begin to explain how damaging that event was. Shakespeare is undermining Jeanne's agency in that he--not unlike the corrupt monarch of Jeanne's era--is twisting Jeanne's beliefs to work against him. He knows full well that Jeanne doesn't feel like he deserves somebody so bright and understanding (we need to remember it's not really a luxury he's had much in life, especially after the war ended). He knows Jeanne has a tendency to impose that strict moral code on himself even more than he does on others. To reaffirm his every worst fear and lurking terror only throws Jeanne into a vicious downspiral. Jeanne doesn't reject MC out of disgust or hate. He rejects her because he literally cannot handle the concept of trying to be happy again, or of burdening her with his constant struggle to move on while he’s in the middle of a bad episode. He knows he won’t be able to stop reliving the past, that every second of his life and breath will be colored by his gruesome memories. He's trying as hard as he can to keep the intrusive thoughts quiet, to move on. But I'm not going to lie to any of you, that is incredibly difficult to do alone.

The next obvious question is, well why can't the other men help him? This isn't to say that they can't--we see how much solace Jeanne finds in Napoleon and Mozart. Even Isaac is gentle with the veteran. But there are limits to how much they can do. Napoleon is struggling with his own wartime trauma, and it's not identical to Jeanne's. Plus there’s a distinct difference in their sensibilities? Napoleon is the type to habitually seek comfort in helping others when he can't help himself, he's not as in tune with answering his own personal feelings and regulating them. (I mean just look at his new ES: he knows what he wants, but it takes a nudge from Isaac for him to go through with it.) He’s very communally reliant in ways Jeanne isn’t; Jeanne is a very private person, and typically prefers one on one from what I can tell.

Mozart is the definition of repression, and if you look at their interactions it's usually Jeanne that's smoothing over Mozart's rough edges. Mozart says as much himself: that he feels like a rotten friend because he knew Jeanne was struggling with a lot of intense trauma, but he didn't know how to unravel it without hurting him in the process. Mozart calls it personal cowardice, but honestly I just feel like they both had too much going on to be able to help each other effectively. (And Jeanne expresses this sentiment too? This idea that he's not angry with Mozart? He knows they're both carrying a lot, he's just touched Mozart cares about him in return.)

Okay, briefly unrelated, but like. Am I the only one that wheezes uncontrollably when Mozart is like "?????? Idk what it is about MC...I don't want her to be scared of me..." in his own main story in the baths. And Jeanne. IS TRYING SO HARD. NOT TO SPILL THE BEANS ABOUT HIM O B V I O U S L Y BEING IN LOVE. THE HILARITY I CAN'T DO THIS. Jeanne was like "yeah....yeah that's rough buddy.......[screams internally, give your boy time Jeanne he's fragile]"

Honestly? That's the thing about Jeanne too--he has incredible self-awareness and hyperarousal-related (I mean the PTSD kind, get your head out of the gutter) awareness to the people around him. He's very, very conscious of the fact that he is surrounded by geniuses when he can't even write his own name. Just because he has the fortitude not to lash out with his insecurities, doesn't mean he never feels stupid or inferior. And it doesn't help when there are people in the mansion who call him--a fucking war veteran from 500 YEARS AGO--nAiVe. He's not naive lmao. He just doesn't know how the world works so many years later, and it's a ridiculously steep learning curve? Leonardo and Comte are nearly 500 years old, but they lived throughout every hour of that time in a linear fashion. It is a big deal to be moved from 1430 to 1890 in the span of a second asynchronously, and then be expected to function without a hitch??? Given the circumstances he adapts well.

That atmosphere--this constant impatience with what he doesn’t understand, his inability to be caught up to speed quickly--is going to hinder his recovery lmao. He feels like a burden most of the time, and agency and freedom are crucial.

Another thing that occurs to me about the mansion's arrangement is that there is a power dynamic, just as any space with people in it has some level of hierarchy (unless you live with miraculously chill people). Jeanne is acutely aware that Comte is the most powerful being in that space, and he is not only hatefully angry at him--but likely afraid too. We have to remember that the biggest betrayal he witnessed in his life was at the hands of a monarch; it was the aristocracy that turned on him and erased the truth. Comte is openly a child that resulted from both that era and that type of lineage, I don't really blame Jeanne for being wary. He intimately knows how willing rich people are to throw normal folks under the bus to suit their ambitions/whims. Comte, while not deliberately threatening, also seems to be painfully aware of this impression he gives off. His "chad persona" as I've mentioned allows him to navigate his life in secret by necessity, but it’s actively damaging to his son. He can't reveal the truth because of Vlad's betrayal, and he's openly unsettled by what it could mean to be honest. Will they wonder about Vlad and find themselves ensnared under his mind control as Charles and Shakespeare are? Will Comte himself be subjected to the mortifying ordeal of being known only to lose them?? That's a risk he isn't willing to take--and that leaves him in a double bind.

What is it that they say, the truth will set you free? This is where MC and Comte come into enormous play when it comes to Jeanne's recovery. One thing to keep in mind is that most of the people in the mansion have their own traumas they're trying to carry, and I feel like a lot of them are unsure how to approach Jeanne. Or if they do, he's very guarded. It takes a lot of consistent effort to get through to him. What does MC do when Jeanne unleashes his harsh worldview on her? She's understandably frightened, but Jeanne isn't malicious (so she chases him around). In fact, he openly avoids and runs away from her--well aware that what he's done is wrong. If anything, he did it on purpose, bringing us right back to Shakespeare's verbal undoing; why does Jeanne attack her in the first place?

LMAO. He attacks her because she essentially says "oh thanks for helping me!" "I am not nice. Watch yourself." "But you seem like a nice guy to me?" "REEEEEE" Does the pattern become a little clearer? When people think kindly of him, his instinct is to shatter that illusion with an impulsive reprehensible act. When people think poorly of him or lash out, what does he do? When that orphan boy starts yelling and screaming, Jeanne is nothing but calm. He explains the situation, and offers the kid a choice, perfectly happy to be the bearer of bad news. This operates on many levels I’m sure, but I have a feeling it has something to do with him being hailed a saint and a war hero only to be tortured and branded a monstrosity (and he probably thinks being a vampire is doubly monstrous). He’s more comfortable being hated because he feels it’s what he deserves in a lot of ways.

Jeanne has a lot of internalized self-hatred because of what he's done, and because of how much harm was inflicted on him outside of his control (he's Catholic and he was tortured, come on this writes itself). If I'm honest, I think that's actually the greater part of why he hates Comte lmao. Comte refuses the very concept of being cruel no matter how much Jeanne lashes out. Sure he lectures him and scolds him, but he never actively limits what's important to him or controls or harms him. Comte fully realizes the tragedy of how Jeanne's life was used by a nation in dire straits, and knows he needs time and acceptance to heal. No matter how dismal or unhappy, Comte doesn't stop--he fully believes Jeanne should have time in his life where he can really live for himself for once. But therein lies the issue, Jeanne doesn't know how to live for himself.

Which brings me to how MC and Comte "heal" Jeanne. I feel like they give him the space he needs to recover, and that's what results in his gentled temperament and happiness. Remember that so much of his main story is MC endlessly chasing after Jeanne. No amounts of his hissing or running or threatening stops her. Even if his refusals are empty of real dislike, they're enough to deter most people. Not MC. She's able to see through to the depths of who he is, and doesn't just use him for her own ends? She actively seeks to teach him (to read and write) to help him settle better in this era, she actively tries to ease his distaste for rain with a well-meaning bet, and she never gives up on him. (Actions mean so much more to him than words in general too, tbh...). Love is more easily defined by work and effort than it is by attraction.

When he has his episode at the festival, sure she's rattled; but that's because she truly believed that he didn't want to be around her anymore. When she notices he really doesn’t want to be followed, she stops like any normal person would. It’s only when she reads his notebook and sees the truth for herself (that he’s given up despite having the same feelings for her) that her determination is rekindled. She doesn't approach him fearfully, doesn't treat him like he's made of glass either. She just wants him as he is--accepts and loves him as he is. Scarred, bloody, exhausted, abrasive, terrified. She doesn't define him by how easy he is to love. That is a huge issue with traumatized people lmao. Because of their maturity, people always just assume they don't need help, or they rely on them to an extent that isn't sustainable. The second they reveal need or that they struggle, people walk away or victim blame them because it’s easier than taking them seriously.

While MC's attempts may be a little more obvious (cherishing his lily field, wearing the hair pin he gave her, careful about his gruesome injury, really listens when he talks about the horrors of his life and accepts that he experienced a level of agony/terror she can never understand, tries to express her feelings no matter his evasion) I think it's also important to consider Comte's large scale effort. I don't say this to undermine MC, I say it because Jeanne's life was defined by a complete lack of security. He left his parents to make their lives easier, he lived in a war that meant life or death any second, and his country's leader branded him a traitor which lead to his endless torture and public execution. Jeanne does not know a life in which safety is the norm. Point blank. He does not understanding going outside and not expecting the worst anymore.

Comte not only understands that level of despair, but treats it with dignity and respect. He fully accepts being hated if it means Jeanne can use that hatred to live on and find a way to heal. And most importantly, when Jeanne begins to move forward with MC and Mozart's help, Comte never once holds it against Jeanne when the truth is revealed. He's not angry, this isn't about reprisal or reparations or revenge. It's just love.

Jeanne doesn't really have a concept of this? His entire life was mostly transactional, defined by strength and efficiency. Nobody gives a damn about your feelings. You either hurl yourself at the problem or die. Nobody is going to help you or carry you or save you. While he may have had a little more support while he was in the military from his fellow soldiers, that support system was ripped away from him during the Inquisition.

One very common sentiment regarding elongated imprisonment and torture is that survival occurs in pairs. It is an undeniable fact that people need others to survive. It is the nature of who we are. Individualism has never proven to be successful, or if it is, its dividends are astronomically minimal when compared to people working together.

What does it mean to be the most reliable, steady person in the room? Usually it just means you don't know how to ask for help when you are no longer capable of maintaining that stance. Napoleon is guilty of it. Leonardo, Comte, and Jeanne all are too. It's part of why MC and Comte's capacity to see what he needs and provide as much as they can is such a big deal. That sort of consistent support (without a constant necessity to beg for help) allows Jeanne to be able to re-integrate into his new reality and find joy. Even if his nightmares and memories never go away, they are now being actively overrun by positive experiences. That's the thing about recovery, really--it tends to be more about drowning out the negative as much as possible and coming to terms with it, than it is about forgetting or never feeling it again. It’s about softening the sharp edges of pain like sea glass.

So is MC magical and randomly got Jeanne to open up? Nah, I don't think so. I think it was a series of persistence and real acceptance of who he is that made him warm up. People really seem to underestimate how deeply affecting understanding is, but that's how damage is undone. Jeanne can't really linger on the idea of his own monstrousness, his unworthiness, a lifetime of misery, when the person in front of him actively listens and cares about him. Makes him laugh and smile and lose himself in warmth for the first time.

If I'm honest, I feel like people also just...underestimate the level of traumatic resurgence that's perpetuated and inflicted by society’s standards in general lmao. This rhetorical structure in which good and bad exist in moral extremes, this idea that people should be able to recover and never experience relapses or periods of sensitivity. The refusal to radically listen to people and their problems, and make active attempts--not matter how small--to mend/ease those hurt feelings. Granted there will always be people in the world who do not want to improve, but I feel like most people want to. It's hopelessness, silence, and stigmatization that remain the true enemies of traumatized/mentally ill people everywhere. And among that population are always war veterans...

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp jean #ikevamp jeanne #ikevamp meta #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp comte #sorry i have a lot of feelings about this topic kjahsflkjhsjkghfd #but yes!#i think mc being able to help him was more about her sensibility and the mental fortitude/space to be able to care about him as he needed #i don't think it's necessarily that she's SpEcIaL #trauma is a sensitive subject--especially considering he's a war veteran #but i also think it's simple and complex at the same time #simple in the sense that people really do just need consistent support and love to be able to care for themselves again #complex in the sense that support can come in so many permutations and some of them are very delicate and multi-faceted #and thus must be handled with extreme caution in some regards #anywho not that i'm any kind of expert this is just what i understand and see #also in case it wasn't clear i love him and cry every day (look away comte it's my whoring hours)#though i hope this helps??? i went off harder than anticipated lakjhglkj #thank you for the ask!!! <3333 #asks #rambles #not incorrect quotes

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bigfatscience · 5 years ago

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Is fatness a risk factor for severe illness or death from COVID-19?

Media and even some health agencies are warning that fatness is a risk factor for severe illness or death from COVID-19. That is some scary shit, especially when combined with the rampant medical discrimination that fat people already face and the threat of resource scarcity triggering “service rationing”.

However, this is not an accurate reflection of the science.

Two smaller-scale studies from China identified “obesity” as a risk-factor. Yet those results may be based on incomplete health records of patients and they have not been reproduced among larger samples in other countries.

For example, @drjoshuawolrich on Instragram summarizes the results from a larger-scale UK study like this (images are his as well):

The latest report on COVID-19 from the Intensive Care National Audit & Research Centre in the UK is pretty conclusive. There is no evidence at present to suggest that BMI is a risk factor for admission to ICU with COVID-19 (n=672). ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ Looking at the data graphically (swipe left on the post) you can see that the distribution of those admitted critically ill with COVID-19 (blue bars) follows the BMI distribution of the general population (orange line). BMI is not a risk factor.

Despite these findings, in their coverage of this exact study, The Guardian claimed that “Excess weight also appears to be a significant risk factor; over 70% of patients were overweight, obese or clinically obese on the body mass index scale.”

(Of course, among the age groups represented in the study, roughly 70% of the population is overweight or obese to begin with in the UK, so it makes sense that we would also comprise a similar percentage of people hospitalized... but good to know you hate fat people)

Some health agencies are also warning people with BMIs over 40 to take extra precautions and self-isolate. Why are they doing this when fatness is not a reliable risk factor? Perhaps because many of the risk factors that have been identified by the research are associated with higher weights, including older age and comorbidities like hypertension, diabetes, and cardiovascular disease. Of course, lots of fat people don’t have any of these conditions, and lots of thin people do. Weight is an invalid indicator of health. Maybe these health agencies think it is more efficient to stigmatize scapegoat warn fat people generally, rather than focusing on actual health indicators, which may be confusing to the general public. (I think you all know what I think about that strategy [insert fart noises]).

So what are the reliable risk factors for severe illness and death from COVID-19? To be frank, we don’t really know yet. As a recent editorial in the BMJ states: “As yet, there are no good data on how the risks associated with underlying comorbidities might vary in different population groups or settings.”

In addition, I think we should all ask ourselves why we care about this information so much. In an ideal world, perhaps knowing the risk factors would allow us to offer the most supports to the people who (statistically) need it the most. But in reality, this kind of information is used to blame people for their own illnesses, to deny healthcare resources to people who “won’t benefit” from them, and to provide a false sense of security to those precious few who happen to have the “right” healthcare profile. Right now, at this moment, none of those things are helpful.

Breath deeply my friends. Protect one another. And tell the fat haters to fuck right off.

And if you need it: How to Survive COVID-19 Service Rationing (UK based)

#science criticism #media critcism #COVID-19 #weight discrimination #death #healthism #ableism #1k

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my-darling-boy · 4 years ago

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is it okay if i relate to your comics even if i know i'm not autistic? i don't want to comment anything like "i relate to this a lot" or smth if i know i'm not autistc

Good question. The way I see it is, technically some things in the comics can be experienced by lots of people BUT the difference between my post and other post is that my comics specifically address my experiences with things as an autistic person.

Like I know costumer service workers all have awkward experices with social interaction, but what my content specifically focuses on are autistic costumer service workers. We have a disproportionately harder time in these environments than allistics. I know everyone on here has had random people digressing on their social media posts in the comments, but what makes this issue more damaging to autistic people is that often times the digressing is done in response to ignore the issues presented in the post, and again, happens on a disproportionately larger scale on autistic posts than it does to allistic posts.

The reason I even started the comics was because I was tired of never seeing representations of my own neurodivergency, or seeing posts where autistic people get shoved out of the picture. The only time I’m able to find autistic content by and for autistic people is by searching up and following autistic people, these aren’t posts I’m going to see crossing my feed naturally, because social media doesn’t really like to talk about autistic people. And we make content hoping it makes rounds on social media to spread word to neurotypicals only for it to flop right outside our doors because neurotypcials don’t think it’s worth addressing.

So I’d say it’s fine to look at it and remember a time when something similar happened to you, but when you’re voicing that and saying you 100% experience it in the exact same way that the post means it, it’s not really a mood, because you’re seeing my post through a neurotypical lens. Now, I know there are some trait overlaps for instance between autism and adhd, so if another neurodivergent person feels it’s relatable, then in a way it is. The thing to remember is that autistic people have a much more difficult time trying to get content out there to get people to understand us. And when it finally is, our message is usually watered down by people taking the post only as a joke or screenshotting certain parts and taking them out of context or talking about an experience they’ve experienced as a neurotypcial that they try to relate back to the post. So at the end of the day, I look at my post hoping it brings awareness to issues autistic people experience to an audience that may not know about them and hopefully helps some autistic or neurodivergent people feel seen, only to find when I check my inbox or the comments or my messages sometimes, neurotypical people are doing the EXACT thing the “autistic social media posts” comic tries to point out as being a problem. And it makes me wonder if some neurotypical people or allistic people even read it at all.

These are things to keep in mind when you know a post was made by an autistic person to specifically address an autistic experience. Thinking it’s somewhat relatable is one thing, but voicing what you experience as a neurotypical person on a post that isn’t about you or for you is a slippery slope to watering down our experiences. Like, imagine the one time you get a post about autism to take off you find the only response is “yeah everyone does that”, and our message is once again, lost

#Making this response thorough cos nts need to be able to identify when they do this #asks #autism #autistic apple sauce

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justmypartner · 4 years ago

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Make it Work: Chapter 1

Summary: When offered a permanent position with the FBI, Hailey agrees to take it under one condition: Jay comes too. As their personal lives and work lives begin to change, the two partners find it increasingly difficult to navigate their complex relationship and manage their feelings for one another. *Picks up at the 8x03 bar scene.

Writer’s Note: I’m so excited to share my first multi-chapter fic. I really enjoyed Hailey’s FBI episode and how seamlessly she was able to adapt to that world, so I thought it would be fun to explore how Jay might fit into that world and how different the adjustment may be for him. When writing the first chapter I was really inspired by the song (what i wish just one person would say to me) by Lany, because I felt like it fit Jay’s perspective perfectly. As much as our guy loves Hailey, he was always going to put her wishes above his own. That’s what the song is all about, so you can see a few lines inspired by the song sprinkled throughout the chapter (the title is also taken from the song). Please enjoy Chapter 1 of Make it Work!

Read on AO3 or below

“Alright. Let’s do this, rip the bandaid off. What did the FBI offer you?” Jay said straightly, trying to hide the worry that coursed throughout his entire body.

Earlier that day he had discovered the FBI had Hailey on their radar, and he hadn’t stopped thinking about it since. After what went down with his last partner, simply hearing someone say “FBI” left a bad taste in his mouth. He wouldn’t openly admit it, but he was worried about Hailey taking the offer. Ever since she had returned from New York, she had been fairly quiet about how it went. Her feelings seemed indifferent, but part of him had to wonder why she would hide the fact that they were sending her job offers. He hated the idea of being left alone again, but ultimately he just wanted what was best for her, even if that meant moving thousands of miles away.

Jay had been seeing Hailey differently for a while. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly when his feelings shifted, but he knew things were different. If anyone asked, she was his partner and his best friend, but he knew deep down that she was more than that. There were even a handful of moments when he almost told her how he felt but Jay, never a man of openly expressing his feelings, failed to get a single word out every time. He had fought those feelings for so long, keeping them hidden deep in the depths of his closed-off heart, but her time away in New York proved this impossible. He had picked her up from the airport when she got back in Chicago, and the second he saw her he couldn’t deny the way she set his heart aflame. So, hearing that the FBI was trying to steal her away permanently was messing with his head. He had sat on his concern all day, but his patience was running thin.

“Mm okay. Joint level task-force, with the HIG, all interrogations, all high-level targets,” she told him, a slight smirk on her face as she awaited his reaction.

“Sure.. Sure, sure, sure, yeah, that sounds awesome,” he said sarcastically as she chuckled. “Is it good pay?” He asked her, a sense of defeat in his voice.

“Great pay. Honestly made me a little embarrassed about what we get paid,” she said with a smile. This was not what he was hoping for, but he pressed forward.

“Well, you’d probably be really good at it,” he responded, feigning support as the words killed him inside. He knew she would be good at it, there was no doubt in his mind. The job sounded perfect for her, but he just hated where it was and what it could mean for them.

“Yeah,” she muttered, pausing briefly and looking out the window as if her next words were lingering somewhere outside and she was trying to find them. “Yeah, I hope so because I told them I would take it,” she finally said, her eyes slowly traveling back to his. The smile on her face was replaced by a look of sincerity. He felt his heart drop into his stomach as he clenched his jaw, trying to conceal the myriad of emotions consuming him.

“Well, I.. I’m happy for you,” he said unconvincingly before bringing his glass back to his mouth, taking a large swig of his drink. He couldn’t look her in the eye because he knew she’d be able to read right through him. So, he focused on the bottom of his glass, fingers fidgeting with the rim waiting for her to say something.

“Yeah, well I should be saying the same to you,” she told him. With this, he raised his eyes back up to meet hers and returned her words with a raised brow, sending a questioning look her way.

“I told them I wasn’t going anywhere without my partner, so they took a look at your file and they were very impressed by your background. They said if you’re good enough for me to bargain with, you must be worth having on their team,” she paused briefly and he watched her swallow hard before her next words. “Jay the offer is extended to the both of us.. that is if it is something you’re interested in,” she said, tilting her head to the side as she tried to read his reaction.

A moment of what felt like his world falling apart was now being strung back together with a sliver of hope for the two of them. Being a fed was never in any of Jay’s plans. In fact, he always found himself carrying an unwarranted detestation for them that made those government positions sound completely unappealing. He never imagined he’d be willing to give up Chicago, let alone his position in Intelligence, especially for a job with the feds, but if it meant being with Hailey he was going to consider it. Romantically or not he knew he needed her in his life and as he told her not too long ago, he would follow her anywhere.

“I- wha- I-“ he stuttered out, not being able to form a coherent word.

“Look, I know it is a lot to ask of you. I know it may not seem fair of me to offer you up like that without asking first, but the way I figured it, we’re good at our jobs and we’re good together. I mean new job, new city, it all sounded so crazy to me at first. I’ve never pictured myself anywhere outside of CPD, but then I took a step back and realized what it could mean big picture. My time in New York, the cases I was working, they showed me just how big and bad this world can be. I mean I was chasing after dudes that make guys like Darius Walker look like frickin saints. The whole time I just kept thinking, I could really see myself doing this every day. I felt fulfilled in a way I hadn’t in years, but every night I’d go home, especially after the bad ones, and I felt like something was missing. Then one night after a really bad one I was sitting in my hotel room, wallowing in the heaviness of that day and my phone rang. It was you calling to check up because you had a bad case too and you needed whatever this thing is between us that always seems to work. That’s when I realized what it was that was missing. It was you,” she shrugged, the corners of her mouth curling up in a shameful smile.

“Hailey..” Jay said as his eyes glossed over with tears. He sat there silently, looking into the endless depth of her eyes and hoping the right words would come to him. His thoughts were jumbled and he was having trouble grounding himself in reality. The whiplash of thinking he was losing the most important person in his life to hearing her tell him her life wasn’t complete without him left him in a state of disorient. He was relieved when she continued on before he had the chance to stumble over words once more.

“Look Jay, I don’t expect you to have an answer now. I just needed to tell you where I’m coming from so you’d have a full perspective to guide your decision. I know leaving Chicago, leaving our family at the 21st wouldn’t be easy, but I feel like this opportunity is something worth pursuing. I also think it’s something that would be made easier if we did it together,” she admitted, finishing her piece.

Her words echoed in his head as he seriously thought through the opportunity. Jay was wired to be a cop, to right wrongs, help victims find justice, and chase the highs of dangerous cases. He found his life’s purpose doing just that, starting in the Rangers and leading to his spot in Intelligence. He appreciated the fulfillment his work in Intelligence brought him, but what if he could do that on a much larger scale - with her by his side no less. All of a sudden he was picturing a life in New York and working at the FBI. He felt like it could make sense and it caught him by surprise, but it seemed clear.

“Do you remember when the unit was under siege and we thought it was the end of Intelligence? We had just gotten back from that major bust and we were talking about what would happen if we got shut down.. where we would go. Do you remember what I said to you?” He asked her, his newfound clarity allowed him to string a coherent thought together. She nodded in response.

“You told me you’re going where I go and that it’s hard to find a good partner,” she said softly, her eyes staying locked with his.

“I meant it then, and I mean it now. I’ve spent my whole life fighting to help people, and I like to think we’ve done some really great things in Intelligence. You were right when you said we’re good together, and if this job means we can make an even bigger difference than the one we do now, I’m all in,” he said, causing a big smile to form across her face.

“Yeah?”

“Hell yeah. I mean I’d like to know more about the position and everything, but if you say it’s worth it, then I trust you.. we’ll make it work. Plus, our thing just isn’t the same over the phone. You’d be lost without me,” he told her with a cheeky smile, eliciting an eye roll from her.

“Yeah, you mean you’d be lost without me,” she responded, standing from her chair to grab her coat. Jay laughed and took the check before rising to put his coat on as well. As they made their way to the door, Jay turned to face Hailey as a concerned look overcame his face.

“Wait- have you planned on how we’re going to tell Voight about this?” He asked. She returned his question with an expression matching his.

“Uh ah, I didn’t get that far. I didn’t think you would actually agree to be honest.”

“Come on, we’ve built a pretty strong partnership here, at least part of you had to think there was a chance I’d say yes,” he told her.

“Yeah, no I wasn’t thinking about that. I was thinking the fact that it’s a job with the feds and the idea of having to wear a suit everyday would have left no room for consideration,” she said with a chuckle. She pushed her body against the door, grimacing at the sudden sensation of the cold Chicago wind against her face, leaving a suspended Jay stood in the doorway.

“Suit.. everyday.. I-“ he said upon realizing that part of the job he hadn’t considered.

“Woah, woah, woah, you already said yes, no turning back now,” she teased. He groaned and dragged his feet out the door to join her in the cold. They walked shoulder to shoulder down the street in a comfortable silence.

“That doesn’t sound so bad you know,” she said, breaking through the silence as they reached their cars. She turned to face him, her eyes carrying a glimmer he hadn’t noticed before.

“Oh yeah, what’s that?”

“Getting to see you in a suit every day,” she said confidently before realizing the coy nature of the statement and bashfully looking away. Jay could feel the heat rush to his face despite the chilling wind blowing against him. He smiled down at his feet, hoping if she could notice the redness of his cheeks, she accounted it to the cold. There was a long pause before he brought his eyes back up to hers once again.

“See you tomorrow?”

“Yeah,” she said, placing a hand on his chest lightly before passing him to get into her car.

Jay wasn’t sure where their future was going or what direction it would take them, but he knew as long as she was in his life, he was set. His eyes followed her as she got in her car and started the engine. She gave him a small wave before pulling out into the street. Yet again there he was suppressing his feelings for his partner, but this time it felt worth it. A lot in their lives was about to change, he didn’t need to add the heaviness of his feelings to the mix. He was anxious about what was to come, but he ultimately felt content with his decision.

#upstead #jay x hailey #hailey x jay #jay halstead #hailey upton #chicago pd #upstead fic

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