#magic system where people have power over you if they learn your true name
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okavara · 2 days ago
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The smolryptid image that inspired some of dante's doodles btw (I wanted to light up dante's day somehow by going: Look!! look I'm showing him your stream)
Thought you tumblr people might appreciate him too :}
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neverlearnedtoread · 1 year ago
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Spinning Silver
⭐⭐⭐⭐; the staryk king and mirnatius with the word 'wife' on the board: there's only one thing more horrible than a wife.... *rips off paper* MY wife
Oh?? 👌😉😏
women are fucking amazing and wonderful and terrifying and unequivocal badasses. especially to their husbands. it's about the fantasy of a marriage you have no control over being perfectly suited to you in ways you didn't even know it could
inhuman fae creatures that actually have a separate culture and set of rules they are governed by. they're much more powerful than humans, of course, but they are bound to their laws, and if you're smart you can work with that
fairytale-esque magic system that relies heavily on (1) trickery (2) Having Audacity and (3) the rule of threes 😉. we love a soft magic system that rewards big swings and BDE!
not one, but TWO separate arranged marriages engaged in HEATED pvp AKA two people bound in hostile matrimony trying to kill each other while having 'wait, are they hot? fuck!' moments
you can be cold and practical and still be a good person. you can be strong enough to protect yourself without sacrificing others. with a good enough grasp of contracts you can force a demon to leave your kingdom AND husband unharmed in a 2-for-1 deal
No.. âŒđŸ€ąđŸ€ź
multiple POVs with no names for chapter titles so you have to figure out who it is from context clues - if you're like me and love a little puzzle to go with your reading time, you'll really enjoy it (Novik does it VERY well) but if you get confused easily or don't wanna put in the brainpower its annoying and overly complicated
if you don't like enemies-to-lovers where they actually argue and are ideologically opposed, you're not gonna enjoy the romance subplots. this is not a 'forbidden-lovers' kinda enemies-to-lovers. this is firmly in the 'my husband misses me a lot - but his aim is getting better!' zone
really quick wrap up - it gets tied up a little too fast after the final confrontation with the Big Bad. i wouldve liked at least to have irina POV at the end because her side of things just. gets left hanging
Summary: Miryem is a daughter and granddaughter of moneylenders, and though her father doesn't have the hardheartedness to be a good one, she'd rather be despised for what she's owed than starve. Her knack for the trade, coupled with her sharp tongue, draws the ire of her village, and even more alarmingly, the Staryk's attentions; faerie creatures who only covet gold, they take her offhanded boast that she can turn silver into gold quite literally, and show up at her door to hold her true to her careless words - which, honestly, kind of backfires on them when she rises to the challenge and upends their realm into complete disarray, so maybe there's a lesson there for the next group of nonhumans to learn: don't bet the house against a human girl whose Had Enough Of All This Bullshit. She might win.
Concept: 💭💭💭 I don't know Rumpelstiltskin's story very well, and Ice Kingdom aesthetics aren't my favourite (you can blame it on my residual dislike of Frozen), but I DID read Uprooted before this. I wasn't as into the book blurb as I was with Uprooted, but I'm an experienced (and opinionated) enough reader to know when to trust my gut - if I find an author's writing style easy to read, and I enjoy how they handle their themes, I'm not afraid of diving into deep waters. If it's that bad, I can always DNF
Execution: đŸ’„đŸ’„đŸ’„đŸ’„ As I've come to expect with Novik's writing, a wonderfully easy read; the storytelling voice flows smoothly and makes me want to keep on reading. No slogging through difficult to understand passages and too slow pacing for me! I instantly wanted to collect every POV character like puppies in a basket, no matter how brief their sections were. I will say the ending does forget what it wants to say and simply ends on a happy note, instead of a complete thought. It doesn't tie in the POV characters together strongly enough - I would've loved to see an epilogue scenes with the 3 main female characters supporting each other, or at least being three distinct Bad Bitches!
Personal Enjoyment: ❀❀❀❀❀ Mostly because of Irina and Miryem (and Wanda)'s absolute BDE. They truly brought their stories to life and felt very dynamic, constantly driving the story forward through their actions, especially because their personalities and characteristics were so well-suited to the challenges they faced (Miryem rules-lawyering the Staryk, Irina taking to politics, Wanda keeping faith despite all the shit she's been through). Honorary shoutout to the complete hilarity of Mirnatius's POV (though ultimately it IS more indulgence than necessity, I respect Novik for it) - may he spend the rest of his life desperately drawing his wife in vain search of her bad angles!
Favourite Moment: the running gag of mirnatius losing his fucking mind trying to prove irina isn't hot. you know that post that's like 'find a blorbo to draw and your art skills will start improving so much faster'? irina is his blorbo. special mention of the scene he gets jealous realizing a random guard has a crush on his behated wife and immediately jumps to the conclusion that irina would want to fuck the guard for the sake of the kingdom. babygirl the hoops you are jumping........where is this gymnastics routine even going 😭 this man is not beating the meow meow allegations..
Favourite Character: It's really a tie between Miryem and Irina, who are both so similar yet different at the same time. Miryem's BDE was enjoyably explosive - she throws it in everyone's face, which is perfect to play off of the Staryk's otherworldly impassiveness. Irina's BDE was a lot more...steely. Quietly coming into her own as she realized how adept she was at politics, and how perfectly well-suited that made her to being tsarina - and when they finally met each other? it was so funny when were like 'hey...why dont we kill our husbands via pokemon battle??'
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mesillusionssousecstasy · 1 year ago
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How to Become a Mob Boss: Quote episode 1 to 4
"- Mob boss is basically the CEO of an organization. And some of these organizations are very big, and some of them make an awful lot of money." (George Anastasia - Organized Crime Writer - Episode 1)
"- You have to be smart and know how to motivate and, at times, frighten people to keep them in line." (George Anastasia - Episode 1)
"- To be a successful mob boss, first of all, you have to be driven." (Ellie Honig - Former Federal Prosecutor, Southern District of NY - Episode 1)
"- From Torrio, young Capone learned these rules. Dress for success. Keep your mouth shut. And when it comes to staying on top, remember, money is power." (Narrator - Episode 1)
"- Frankie Yale taught Capone an alternate set of skills. Always show you mean business. Never get outgunned. And make sure your reputation precedes you." (Narrator - Episode 1)
"- Start with this mantra any wise businessman must follow, never pay retail." (Narrator - Episode 2)
"- Frank wanted to try to figure out, "How do I cut out the middleman to maximize my profits?" And also reduce the opportunity for a law enforcement to penetrate his organization." (Episode 2)
"- Anytime your sales volume isn't up to your full market potential, whatever the reason, you've got a problem." (Episode 2)
"- The playbook solution to this common dilemma? Become the only game in town." (Narrator - Episode 2)
"- If you corner the market, you have control over the market. You can charge whatever the hell you want." (Emily Sweeney - Reporter, Boston Globe - Episode 2)
"- But how do you make sure customers come to you to get their fix? It starts with marketing. Like most organizations, you have a product, you give it a brand name. So you want people to look for your brand. You have to make sure your brand is good. But clever branding only goes so far. It's what's in the package that counts." (Narrator - Episode 2) "- Frank stamped his "Blue Magic," and it was the best drop you could buy. Frank made sure his production line was in the hands of a true expert. The manufacturing genius he called Red Top." (Episode 2)
"- But to truly corner the market, Frank needed something else. A solid retail strategy. Studying police behavior, Frank notices a key pattern. At 4:00 p.m. daily, cops on the early shift leave their posts. But the night shift doesn't take over until 5:00. Frank instructs his lieutenants to hit the streets hard during this golden hour. While Frank monitors his crew's customer service by cruising through Harlem undercover." (Narrator - Episode 2)
"- If anybody slips up, there's hell to pay. But when your product sells this well, sometimes all you have to do is sit back and enjoy. This is why the crime gods invented money laundering. Ready to turn dirty money into clean cash? While techniques vary, they mostly follow the same basic steps. Step one. Placement. Create a legitimate business with a bank account where you can park your illicit profits, like a car wash or a strip club. Step two. Layering. Use complex transactions to separate the money from its illegal source. For example, buy gold. Cash it in. Then send that money from one international bank account to another to make it even harder to trace. Or sink the proceeds into assets like luxury cars, jewelry, or real estate. Then sell them again. Bringing us to step three. Integration. Invest your freshly-laundered dough into the legitimate financial system to keep the taxman off your trail. VoilĂ ! Your dirty drug money is now clean as a whistle." (Narrator - Episode 2)
"- Everything's money. This is America." (Episode 2)
"- But when your core product is high-grade heroin, the happy days probably won't last forever. If you want to build your business to last, you need a strategy that can adapt to all market conditions. Frank used a multipronged approach to address this problem. Starting with a PR campaign. He thought doing things for the community would be an effective way of protecting himself and his entreprise. Loaning money to people. Not worrying about if you got it paid back. Taking care of people. So he kept a community on his side. He also made sure to take care of an even more important demographic. Cops. Frank spent a lot of money paying off police. Having the police on the take means being able to walk down the street and not worry about being locked up. It means knowing that you're gonna have a supply of drugs coming in safely without being interdicted by the police. But as many mob bosses discover, acts of generosity can leave some men in blue wanting more. But the early '70s, Frank Lucas has moved his family to a quiet house in the suburbs. But when you inhabit the criminal life, business has a way of following you home. Today, Frank is met by a unwanted visitor, a corrupt NYPD detective he comes to call Babyface. He orders Frank to pay him 10'000 cash a month. Or he'll shut down Frank's operation for good. Frank doesn't see any real options. But then Harlem's top drug boss makes one last transaction. Frank joined America's team and made a business decision to cooperate to reduce that jail time. As a businessperson, looking out for himself, he made the right decision for himself. Even if it meant turning on his own brother. That type of betrayal is it's hard to deal with sometimes. What can I say? It's just business." (Narrator - Episode 2)
"- But when you're a mob boss looking to consolidate your power, you look at human emotions differently. Mob bosses rule by fear. It's the best weapon. Ant there's one tested method for putting this spine-tingling tool to work. To make people understand fear, you have to perform violence." (Narrator - Episode 3)
"- If you are able to say, "I can kill you, I can kill your wife, I can kill your daughter, don't fuck with me"... you become a very powerful person." (Episode 3)
"- Nobody demonstrated this lesson as effectively as Sicily's boss of bosses, Salvatore "Toto" Riina. But he was mainly known for this astonishing figure. He is thought to have authorized between 800 and 1'000 killings. Secrecy was one of his weapons, and it built up his mystique within the Mafia. This kind of ghost figure that could be anywhere and might be listening to you as you spoke. He didn't need a luxurious lifestyle. He didn't care about that stuff, but what he did care about was power. One of the things that Riina is supposed to have said is, "Comandare Ă© meglio che fottere," which mean, if I can use plain English "Being boss is better than fucking." (Alexander Stille- Author, Excellent cadavers - Episode 3)
"- That's why as a mob boss, you'll sometimes have to kill more than the story." (Narrator - Episode 3)
"- By the early '80s, Riina was dead set on increasing his power within the Sicilian Mafia. But he faced a stubborn obstacle. Something called the Commission. The Mafia Commission, also called the Cupola, is a governing body of sorts of the Mafia. It was made up of the head boss of the different families. It was a way of collaborating to make sure that business stayed on track. Riina begins to sit in the Commission in about 1969 but begins to have ambitions of domination. Riina's modest goal, force the Commission to name him Capo dei Capi, the Boss of Bosses. But there was one small problem. That position didn't exist. He believed that he should have absolute power. He did not want to share. So Riina decided to turn the job he had into the job he wanted. The Beast's plan, destroy his top rivals' organizations from within. It starts by making secret side deals. In return, they do Riina's dirty work for him... taking out their bosses and filling the ranks with mafiosi loyal to Riina." (Narrator - Episode 3)
"- It's very important for a mob boss to be the guy holding the strings over lawmakers because it allows them to expand their control and their rule." (Narrator - Episode 3)
"- Killing Dalla Chiesa showed, "We can take out anyone, and we will kill you if you get into our business." (Narrator - Episode 3)
"- If you're gonna harm your enemies, make sure you do it complete, so they can never come after you." (Narrator - Episode 3)
"- There's a word for when you've got nothing left to lose, freedom." (Narrator - Episode 3)
"- The message is, "If you mess with us, we don't care how high we have to go, we don't care how protected you are, we will kill you." (Narrator - Episode 3)
"- Aniello Dellacroce, who was the underboss of the Gambino family, became a mentor for Gotti." (Michael Franzese - Former Capo, Colombo Crime Family - Episode 4)
"- This is not about diplomacy. This is about an iron fist." (Episode 4)
"- No matter what organization you're looking to lead, you have to respect its structure. That's especially true with the Italian Mafia, also known as Cosa Nostra. In Cosa Nostra, There's a pecking order. At the top, you have your boss. Under the boss, you have your underboss. Then you have your consigliere, which is basically the advisor or the counselor. Then you have your captains. That's sort of your mid-level managers. And then you have your soldiers. Those are the made guys. Beyond that, you have associated. They're not made members of the group, but they're people who work with and contribute to the mob. In the American Mafia, you can't kill a fully initiated or made guy in your family, without getting permission from your boss. You can't whack a made guy in another family without getting permission from your boss and the boss of the other family. And if you want to clip your own boss, good luck. You need approval from the Commission. Basically, the Mafia board of directors. The rules were clear." (Narrator - Episode 4)
"- John Gotti needed to make his case through the proper channels, but he decided otherwise. He said, "Do it. Fuck it." We knew we couldn't get permission from this thing. Bosses want to protect each other in the Commission, so we formed this alliance which we called The Fist. So, there was five of us, and there was nobody saying no. It was just a time and a place." (Episode 4)
"- Smart mobsters don't want attention on themselves from law enforcement, from the media, from the public. They know that what they're doing is illegal, and attention can only hurt their bottom-line goal, which is to make money." (Ellie - Episode 4)
"- If you're gonna be out there and be flashy, you're going to embarrass law enforcement. So now we're gonna double down." (Lou - Episode 4)
"- When somebody develops this hubris is they make mistakes. Because they are operating under this false belief that nothing can touch me." (Joni Johnson - Forensic Psychologist and Private Investigator - Episode 4)
"- John Gotti was an egotistical narcissist who appeared to revel in the attention that he was getting from the press and from the public. And the more he got, the more he wanted." (Ed - Episode 4)
"- He's called the Dapper Don. Whoever named him the Dapper Don should have came down and talked to him. The reporter. He would've paid that guy $ 100'000 for that label. He loved those labels. I mean, you couldn't make that stuff up." (Sammy - Episode 4)
"- He operated in front of the cameras. He made himself into a celebrity, into a "front page of the tabloid" figure." (Ellie - Episode 4)
"- The Commission hired Sicilian mobsters to have Gotti killed. They put a bomb in the wrong car. Were it not for a little operator error, Gotti's ego would have cost him his life." (Narrator - Episode 4)
"- To be in this life, you have to be willing to go to prison, because at some point, you're gonna get caught. So make sure your time in government custody is productive." (Narrator - Episode 4)
"- RICO is the worst law they ever put on the books. It's Racketeering Influenced and Corrupt Organizations Act, and it's an all-encompassing law. It's very hard to defend." (Narrator - Episode 4)
"- You'd have to be a complete imbecile to be talking about a boss behind his back. He's got the ultimate power over your life, whether you live or die." (Sammy - Episode 4)
"- You know, that's a treacherous life. Dissension is created, and mistrust is created when something like that happens. Now, your own men are questioning that and worried about themselves. You know? What, am I next? That's what happens when you take your eye off the ball. You get a crew full of killers doubting your leadership." (Narrator - Episode 4)
"- The code in the American Mafia is silence. Don't talk about a murder that's committed. Don't talk on your phones. Don't talk indoors. Don't talk in your car. Everything's about keeping your mouth shut. The Mafia calls this code Omerta." (Narrator - Episode 4)
"- When you take the oath of Omerta, you're taking an oath to never admit that the life ever exists and to never betray the life. That's the oath. For a mafioso to break Omerta is tantamount to betraying your family, everything you know, everything you love." (Micheal - Episode 4)
"- It brings more notoriety to him. It legitimizes him. And it's getting turned around on the government that John Gotti is an innocent guy what works for a plumbing company. And they don't like him because he's in the public's eye." (Narrator - Episode 4)
"- The government was jealous of him because he was winning." (Renee)
"- In the end, Gotti did achieve the attention he always wanted. I think John Gotti represented people's frustrations with the government. How the government's always nickel-and-diming you, and John Gotti's fighting the government." (Lou)
"- Basically, Gotti was an example of how not to be a mob boss." (Narrator - Episode 4)
"- If you want fame, go become a fucking actor, or whatever you want to be, but don't be a mob boss." (Sammy - Episode 4)
"- Nobody tackled this challenge as creatively as Boston's most legendary mob boss, Whitey Bulger, whose ruthless attention to detail charted his path to infamy and then pulled a disappearing act for the ages." (Narrator - Episode 4)
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quantumaicatrading · 1 year ago
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Quantum AI Canada: Effortless Profits in 2024
Imagine this: with just $250 and a few clicks, you could see your money grow to an incredible $9,500 in only three days. Sound too good to be true? It's the promise of Quantum AI.
Quantum AI is like having a robot stock expert working for you 24/7. It uses super-smart computer programs to analyze tons of market data and predict the best times to buy and sell stocks. The goal? To make you money, potentially lots of it!
But does Quantum AI really work? Can you actually get rich quick like those stories you hear about? In this guide, we'll break down everything you need to know about Quantum AI in Canada. We'll look at how it works, the potential benefits, and most importantly, if it's actually a smart way to invest your money.
Let's get started and see if QuantumAI could be your path to financial success!
What is Quantum AI?
Think of AI trading as your own personal robot financial advisor. Instead of relying on traditional investment strategies, Quantum AI uses powerful computer programs designed to make smart trading decisions on your behalf.
Here's a simple breakdown:
Data is King: Quantum AI trading platforms gobble up huge amounts of market data – stock prices, news, trends, you name it!
Smart Algorithms: Think of these as the robot's brain. Algorithms analyze all the data, looking for patterns that might signal a good time to buy or sell a stock.
Automated Action: When the AI spots an opportunity, it can make trades on your behalf, way faster than you could do it yourself.
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How Does Quantum AI Actually Work?
Okay, so we know AI trading involves smart robots and tons of data, but how does it all come together? Let's break it down into simple steps:
Choosing Your Battles: Quantum AI platform often focus on specific markets, like stocks or even just specific companies. This way, the Quantum AI can become an expert in that area.
Feeding the Machine: The Quantum AI needs a constant supply of information. This includes things like current stock prices, historical trends, company news, and even social media chatter that might affect the market.
The Secret Sauce: Algorithms This is where the magic happens. Algorithms are like recipes that tell the AI how to analyze the data and find potential trading opportunities. Different AI platforms might use different kinds of algorithms.
Time to Act: Once the Quantum AI spots a promising trade, it springs into action! Depending on your settings, it can either suggest a trade for you to approve or go ahead and make the trade automatically.
Always Learning: Quantum AI isn't just about making trades. These systems learn from their successes and failures, constantly improving their strategies over time.
Think of it like this: Quantum AI is like having a super-smart assistant who never sleeps, constantly scanning the markets for the best investment deals, and then acting quickly before the opportunity passes.
AI Algorithms and Strategies
Not all AI trading systems are created equal. They use a variety of clever strategies to try and outsmart the markets. Here are a few of the most common ones:
Trend Following: Just like the name suggests, this strategy is about jumping on board when a stock is on the rise (or selling short when it's falling). The AI tries to ride the wave of momentum for profit.
Mean Reversion: This strategy is based on the idea that what goes up must eventually come down (and vice versa). AI systems using this strategy look for stocks that are way overpriced or undervalued, betting that they'll eventually return to their "normal" range.
News & Sentiment Analysis: This is where AI gets fancy! It can scan social media, news articles, and even company reports to gauge how people feel about a stock. If the sentiment is positive, that might signal a good time to buy.
High-Frequency Trading (HFT): This one is all about speed. HFT algorithms use lightning-fast computers to make tons of tiny trades in fractions of a second, trying to capitalize on small price changes.
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Advantages of Quantum AI in Canada
So, why would you even consider trusting a AI with your hard-earned money? Here are some of the biggest reasons Quantum AI is getting so much attention in Canada and beyond:
No More Emotions: One of the biggest enemies of successful investing is ourselves! Fear, greed, and plain old impatience can lead to bad decisions. Quantum AI takes the emotion out of the equation, making trades based purely on data.
Superhuman Speed: The markets move fast, way faster than you or I could keep up with. Quantum AI can make trades in the blink of an eye, seizing opportunities you might miss.
Work Smarter, Not Harder: Sifting through mountains of market data takes serious time and effort. Quantum AI does the heavy lifting for you, letting you focus on other things.
Potential for Big Profits: Quantum AI's ability to analyze data and make quick decisions can lead to higher returns than traditional investing methods for some investors.
Accessibility: Quantum AI trading platforms are making it easier than ever for Canadians to get involved in the markets, even if you don't have a ton of experience.
Important Note: While Quantum AI trading offers exciting possibilities, it’s important to remember that they have limited spot to join. So, Don't waste your time! Start changing your life today right now,
Risk Mitigation and Management
Investing always involves some risk – that's just how markets work. But Quantum AI trading can offer tools to help you manage those risks and protect your money. Here's how:
Diversification: Quantum AI won't put all your eggs in one basket. It can help spread your investments across different stocks or even different markets to reduce the impact if one thing takes a dive.
Stop-Loss Orders: These are like safety nets for your trades. You tell Quantum AI to automatically sell a stock if it falls below a certain price, limiting potential losses.
Constant Monitoring: Quantum AI systems don't take breaks. They keep a watchful eye on the markets 24/7, ready to react quickly if things take a turn for the worse.
Backtesting: Before going live with a strategy, Quantum AI platforms allow you to "backtest" it using historical data. This shows you how the strategy would have performed in the past, giving you a better idea of potential risks.
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Proven Quantum AI Success Stories
It's easy to get caught up in the hype, but does Quantum AI deliver in the real world? The short answer is Yes! Let's look at a few compelling examples:
Canadian Case Studies
While it can be tricky to find fully verified Canadian Quantum AI trading success stories, here are some types of wins people might experience:
The Index Beater: Imagine your Quantum AI portfolio consistently outperforms the stock market average. That means more money in your pocket over the long run.
The Time Saver: Maybe your biggest win wasn't massive profits, but getting hours of your life back each week that you'd normally spend researching stocks. Time is money too!
The Steady Earner: Quantum AI help you achieve consistent, bigger profits. This can be great for supplementing your income or adding security to your retirement fund.
Important Note: it’s important to remember that they have limited spot to join. So, Don't waste your time! Start changing your life today right now đŸ§‘â€đŸ’»
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Choosing Quantum Ai Canada
Not all AI trading platforms are created equal. It's important to find one that suits your investment style, goals, and level of experience. Here are some key things to keep in mind:
Crucial Features to Consider
User-Friendliness: If you're not a tech whiz, choose a platform with a clean, easy-to-use interface. You shouldn't have to fight with the software to trade.
Customization: How much control do you want? Some platforms offer pre-built strategies, while others let you get your hands dirty and tweak the algorithms yourself.
Backtesting: Can you test strategies with historical data before risking real money? This feature is a big plus.
Transparency: Does the platform provide clear information about its algorithms and track record? Avoid anything that seems like a black box.
Fees: AI trading often comes with fees. Make sure you fully understand how much you'll be paying and how it's calculated.
Support: When things go wrong (and they sometimes do!), you'll want responsive customer support to have your back.
Questions to Ask Yourself
How much money can I invest? Some platforms have minimum deposit requirements.
Am I comfortable with a lot of automation? Do you want full control over trades or are you happy letting the AI take the wheel?
How much risk am I willing to take? AI trading can be riskier than traditional investing, make sure your platform aligns with your risk tolerance.
Don't Rush! It's better to take your time and research thoroughly than to jump in with the wrong platform.
CLICK HERE TO ACCESS THE QUANTUM AI OFFICIAL WEBSITE
Getting Started with Quantum AI Canada
Quantum AI trading is often surprisingly easy. Here are the basic steps:
Just Sign Up: Fill Your Information to the official website only and wait for the expert call to verify you and your dashboard access.
Deposit: Deposit the minimum required amount to start. $250 is best to start for.
Sit Back And Wait: After Running your Quantum Ai Canada, all you have to do is sit back and relax and count your profit in every 1 hour, maximum profit comes within this time frame - $500 to more than $9500 even possible in 3 days with Quantum Ai Canada.
Monitor and Adjust: Don't just set it and forget it! Keep an eye on your Quantum AI's performance and tweak your strategy as needed.
The Future of Quantum AI
Quantum AI is still relatively new, but it has the potential to shake up how we think about investing. Here are a few exciting trends to watch:
Democratization of Investing: Quantum AI is making it easier for everyday people to get involved in the markets, even if they don't have loads of experience or financial knowledge.
More Sophisticated Strategies: As Quantum AI gets smarter, we can expect to see even more complex and adaptive trading strategies, potentially leading to better results.
Personalized Investing: Quantum AI could create tailored investment portfolios based on your individual goals, risk tolerance, and even your ethical preferences.
Increased Regulation: As Quantum AI trading becomes more mainstream, you'll likely see more government oversight in Canada to protect investors.
The Bigger Picture
Quantum AI has the potential to reshape the entire financial industry. It could lead to:
Faster and More Efficient Markets: Imagine markets working at lightning speed, finding profitable opportunities and ironing out inefficiencies.
Greater Accessibility: The barriers to entry into the world of investing could crumble even further, potentially giving more people a chance to build wealth.
Important Note: It’s important to remember that they have limited spot to join. So, Don't waste your time! Start changing your life today right now.
CLICK HERE TO ACCESS THE QUANTUM AI OFFICIAL WEBSITE
Conclusion
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The Basics: Quantum AI trading uses smart algorithms to analyze tons of market data and make trades automatically.
Potential Benefits: It can take emotion out of the equation, make lightning-fast trades, help manage risk, and potentially lead to bigger profits.
It's Not Magic: While exciting, Quantum AI trading comes with risks like any form of investing. It's important to be realistic and understand that it's not a guaranteed path to riches.
Doing Your Part: Choosing the right platform, setting realistic expectations, and always educating yourself are key to successful AI trading.
The Future is Bright: Quantum AI has the potential to make investing more accessible, efficient, and personalized.
FAQ
Q: Do I need to be a tech genius to use AI trading?
A: Absolutely not! Quantum AI trading platforms are designed to be user-friendly, even if you don't have much experience with computers or investing. Look for platforms that emphasize simplicity and offer clear explanations.
Q: How much money do I need to get started with Quantum AI trading?
A: The good news is that Quantum AI trading is becoming more accessible. This platforms allow you to start with relatively small deposits of $250. However, it's always a good idea to start with an amount you're comfortable potentially losing, as there are risks involved.
Q: Can I really get rich with AI trading?
A: It's possible. Quantum AI can lead to impressive profits.
Q: Is Quantum AI legal in Canada?
A: Yes, Quantum AI trading itself is legal in Canada. However, it's important to Sign Up only from the official website that are regulated by the appropriate financial authorities.
CLICK HERE TO ACCESS THE QUANTUM AI OFFICIAL WEBSITE
Q: Can Quantum AI replace a human financial advisor?
A: Yes, Quantum Ai can.
Q: Can I start Quantum AI with no experience?
A: Yes. All you can do is invest and withdraw the profit daily.
Q: How much money can I realistically expect to make with Quantum AI Canada?
A: There's no honest answer to this. Maximum traders will see great success, with $250-$500 invest, Normally it could turn into $2500-$5800 in 5 hours or in a day with Quantum Ai.
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enigmatist17 · 2 years ago
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Lunar Lunacy (Werewolf by Night and Moon Knight)
Marc and Jack time :D
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Why did Marc have to deal with a non-Jack Jack?
The American had been taking the day to rest in the mind space, Jake and Steven having been spending the day with Jack Russell. He didn’t mind letting them have fun, if he got to nap and catch up on years of backlogged sleep, who was he to complain?
Except, his sleep had been ruined when his body was thrown through a wall, jerking Marc to the forefront immediately. 
“What the?!” Marc groaned, pushing bits of concrete off him as he staggered to his feet. The first thing Marc feels is the feeling of power just vibrating across his body, down to his bones and very soul. Last he checked it wasn’t a full moon out, and even then he felt only a fraction of this power on his best days. It’s a wonderful feeling, and for a split second, Marc forgot he’d just crawled out of a wall, just taking in a deep breath with a pleased hum.
The snarl from something in front of him quickly had Marc on the defensive. 
Jack, or rather werewolf Jack, was staring at him, dark eyes flickering back and forth from Marc and something behind the upturned coffee table. He’s half-crouched to the floor, and looks as disoriented as Marc felt at the moment, one hand scratching behind one of his ears in a nervous tic.
“Okay buddy, easy there.” Taking a step forward, Jack doesn’t snarl or move, so Marc figures he was in a good enough standing to keep walking towards the table. There are books and papers splayed out on the floor, and Marc can see hieroglyphics depicting the moon. Khonshu’s name has been scribbled on some of the papers, and Marc realizes with despair they had apparently written and read aloud some sort of incantation.
“What is it with you people and spells?” Marc groaned, addressing no one in particular. He nearly jumps when Jack joins his side, just breathing calmly and watching Marc rifle through things.
“You know, I told Steven not to mess with magic without making sure things don’t break, or light on fire, or anything else.” Marc chided, and Jack made a grumbling noise. “Then again, you’re the same as him, so what chance did I have tonight?” This time the noise the wolfman made was close to a laugh, and Marc rolled his eyes.
“Well, you’re in a good mood, which I’ll take,” Marc grumbled and cracked his neck with a hum. “So, are you gonna run off or something?”
The werewolf gave him a strange look, having sat down on the floor. It was still amazing how human and not Jack was like this, not that Marc really had time to get to know his bestial side. His dark fur was shining from the various lamps all over the room, each of them from a different era Marc noted with amusement. He’d always wondered how it felt, but had never asked for obvious reasons.
“You’re not too bad ya know.” Marc sat down across from him, leaning against the overturned coffee table. “You growl and all that, but you’re just a big puppy.”
If looks could kill, Marc would probably be dead.
“I’m serious.” Marc cracked a small grin, knowing he was very much playing with fire. Jack gave a low growl, but remained where he sat. Not once had he ever taken his eyes off of Marc, just calmly studying instead of trying to
well, Marc wasn’t sure what else. The werewolf had lashed out at Steven before, but the more they had become friends with Jack, he mostly left them alone.
Hell, Jack himself had become confused when he learned his other side wasn’t trying to rip the system to pieces.
“When was the last time you just had someone enjoy your company, huh?” Marc shifted onto his knees, looking behind the fallen table and spying a pillow on the floor. “Well, besides Ted, not to bash the guy and all,” Jack said nothing, just watching as Marc sat back down with the pillow in his arms. “Come on big guy, you’re looking a bit tired over there.”
Jack tilted his head at this, unsure of this development. It was true he felt tired, being pulled into his transformation outside of a true full moon always made the werewolf feel wrong.  It hadn’t happened often, but the few times it did had always imprinted on his memory. The pillow, now placed beside Marc,  did look like a good place to rest the more he was looking at it. Exhaustion ended up winning over cautiousness, and Jack slowly traveled over and sat beside Marc.
“Go on, I’ll make sure no other spells get cast.” Marc rolled his eyes, trying very hard not to flinch when the werewolf grumbled and lay down. Instead of taking up 90% of the floor away from Marc, instead, the werewolf curled up right against his side. 
What was Marc supposed to do by the gods -
“Alright big guy.” Marc doesn’t know what it was exactly that possessed him, but he places one hand on Jack’s side and just idly begins to pet him. “You know, always wanted a dog.” He gets a quiet huff, but otherwise, Jack doesn’t move. “Oh take a nap you.”
Maybe not-Jack Jack wasn’t too bad after all. Marc could indeed confirm his fur was soft, and if he’s grinning like a kid at Christmas, no one is there to confirm.
Werewolves were so cool.
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kobakova · 4 years ago
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Dragon Age and how it addresses oppression
ok so disclaimer this is not the rewrite of the Elven pantheon (the thing I keep promising I know I’m terrible) however it is an introduction to it and basically the reason why I feel the need to rewrite it in the first place! It’s a bit wordy, but I hope you take the time to read through it, as it took a lot of time and effort and I would super appreciate it! Today I stumbled upon a tik tok that was discussing how DA handles oppression and it motivated me to create a post about how I believe the way DA handles it is problematic at its core. I am not going to link the tik tok, as the creator has asked not to be put on blast, though I am including a word for word transcription of what the creator has said to avoid altering or skewing their message. I want to add that this is not an attack on the creator and what they said, more importantly it is an analysis of how other players perceive the oppression addressed within the game and how that proves that there is a serious problem with how DA handles it.
It is evident to me the message Dragon Age is trying to express is that oppression HAS to happen and that there is a reason to oppress. There are many examples within the game that prove this statement, though I want to focus mainly on how oppression impacts the mages and the Dalish, and how you as the main character can choose to perpetuate that oppression. To begin, here is the transcription of the tik tok below, which addresses oppression through the treatment of the mages.
“When it comes to mages, dragon age gives us a very clear picture that yes, these are people, they have hopes they have dreams they want to do better for themselves, they want to help others, we see this very clearly especially in DA2 where the whole plot revolves around mages rebelling. However, we also see very clearly in DA2 what can happen when a mage is left unchecked. Abominations, blood magic, the ability to force ones will onto somebody is a real threat with mages. Whether they succumbed to blood magic, whether they succumbed to the temptations of demons. These are unique challenges that face mages. And whether or not they should have freedom is true. And the game even gives us an amazing depiction of what could happen through Tevinter mages. What happens if mages are truly released, they have freedom. They might turn out like the Tevinters. Mages can become the ones solely on top oppressing other groups. A situation of the minority suppressing the majority. Whereas all the other lands of Thedas it’s the majority oppressing the minority. We have to grapple with these choices, whether not you kill a blood mage or you let them live. Or whether not you side with the mage rebellion or you side with the templars in DA2. It doesn’t pretend like it’s easy, and it doesn’t pretend to be something that it’s not. It doesn’t pretend to be real life. It gives unique challenges and unique decisions.”
My problem with DA is that you make choices through the role of an oppressor, which is very clear within Dragon Age: Inquisition as your rise to power then gives you the choice to oppress. The transcription above proves that a player has to make their decisions through the lens of an oppressor because you can determine the freedom or oppression of other people, in this case, the mages. Oppression cannot be a tool used for good because it is inherently bad, it only belittles others and is used to gain power. This could be a valuable lesson on how once power is gained so then is the ability to oppress, and how with the responsibility of power you should make choices based on what is best for the people who are oppressed. However, Bioware fails to follow through with this message for the sake of keeping their game morally grey. Instead, Bioware creates reasons and excuses for certain groups to be oppressed, thus making it okay for the player to make a decision that oppresses because either within their history something bad happened or there are certain people within the group that have done bad things. For example, all blood mages are considered evil due to some mages using blood magic in order to oppress and harm. However, we see in the game that not all blood mages are evil, and use blood magic to help. Despite this, all who use blood magic are deemed evil and if used, even if it means they are trying to escape an oppressive system, they will become Tranquil. When addressing Tevinter mages it’s evident that they have gained power, however they have chosen to oppress with this power. Being born with the ability to use magic is having the ability to gain power over another, but it is up to the individual to use that power to oppress or to use it to assist others. The ability to use magic itself is not an oppressive tool, because it has the ability to do good, it is the decisions of the individual that make it oppressive if the person decides to be an oppressor. If Bioware wasn’t so adamant about keeping the game morally grey, then they would’ve had an opportunity to create really interesting and important lessons on power and oppression that would better reflect our political landscape.
Now I want to move onto the Dalish, because I have a serious issue with how Bioware addresses the oppression they face and I believe it is important to mention. As stated above, Bioware chooses to ignore the dismantling of oppression, and instead creates reasons in order  to excuse the oppression of a group simply due to the fact that no group is perfect and they all have their issues. This is evident within the Trespasser DLC when discovering the true nature of the elven gods, which I will paste below:
!! Warning: spoilers ahead !!
“Following the initial events of the Exalted Council, the Inquisitor uncovers the reality that the Elven Gods were in fact phenomenally powerful mages who rose in prominence after the end of an unknown war. Solas implies that the Evanuris started out as generals during the war, then respected elders, and finally were revered as gods. They started out as heroes of the famed war eventually becoming corrupt tyrants in order to hoard and maintain their own power. The Evanuris institutionalized a system of slavery using Vallaslin as a brand, with only Fen'Harel (and more subtly, Mythal) challenging their tyranny. Most of the gods were arrogant in their ways, their power and attitudes more akin to the Tevinter Magisters. Eventually, the other Evanuris plotted against Mythal and killed her, prompting Fen'Harel to lead a rebellion against them and later creating the Veil to banish them into the Beyond,”
(https://dragonage.fandom.com/wiki/Elven_pantheon).
From what I’ve seen, little is known about the Elven Pantheon before Dragon Age: Inquisition and the discovery that the elven gods are actually powerful mages is only represented within the Trespasser DLC. Though I have learned later that this was always the plan for the Elven Pantheon, which was to expose the gods for being tyrants who enslaved their own kind. It is clear that Bioware took inspiration from Native tribes to then create the Dalish elves (even within the name, since there is the Salish Kootenai tribe and Bioware literally just switched the first letter) and this is why I have a major issue with how they chose to handle the oppression that the Dalish are impacted by. Throughout the Dragon Age games, we see the torment that the Dalish suffer through from name calling to the complete erasure of the elven race; Bioware even goes as far as to take significant historical events like the Trail of Tears and write them into the elven history. This is why the Trespasser DLC angers me, because after all you learn about the Dalish and what is done to oppress them, it almost seems brushed off after it is exposed that the elven gods were similar to Tevinter mages. This type of message has real world implications, and can impact how people perceive Native people. Within my own experience as a Native person, I’ve had people argue to me that the oppression Native people face has reason because we have also owned slaves which is COMPLETELY untrue. I was shocked to see this exact reason be integrated into the Trespasser DLC, and it worries me because some players will see that and find it perfectly rational to think that because of the Dalish’s history it is then okay that they were oppressed. Throughout history, America and other countries that have oppressed Native and Indigeous people have created excuses and reasons to oppress them (from excuses like we are s*vages that need to be educated, to reasons like the Manifest Destiny). Therefore, it is incredibly harmful that Bioware would use the same type of reasoning not only for the Dalish but for the mages and the Qunari as well. Finding a reason to oppress a group does not create progressive change, it only divides us and keeps the oppressed groups oppressed and keeps the oppressors in power. Bioware needs to change how they approach oppression, and instead actually teach players the tools needed in order to dismantle oppression. 
I hope to be able to change how the Dalish are perceived, and show through my rewrite of the elven pantheon and also rewrites of missions involving the Dalish how to dismantle oppression through the choices and involvement of the inquisitor. I thank you all for taking the time to read and if there are any questions please don’t be afraid to ask!
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mostlysignssomeportents · 3 years ago
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Facebook thrives on criticism of "disinformation"
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The mainstream critique of Facebook is surprisingly compatible with Facebook’s own narrative about its products. FB critics say that the company’s machine learning and data-gathering slides disinformation past users’ critical faculties, poisoning their minds.
Meanwhile, Facebook itself tells advertisers that it can use data and machine learning to slide past users’ critical faculties, convincing them to buy stuff.
In other words, the mainline of Facebook critics start from the presumption that FB is a really good product and that advertisers are definitely getting their money’s worth when they shower billions on the company.
Which is weird, because these same critics (rightfully) point out that Facebook lies all the time, about everything. It would be bizarre if the only time FB was telling the truth was when it was boasting about how valuable its ad-tech is.
Facebook has a conflicted relationship with this critique. I’m sure they’d rather not be characterized as a brainwashing system that turns good people into monsters, but not when the choice is between “brainwashers” and “con-artists selling garbage to credulous ad execs.”
As FB investor and board member Peter Thiel puts it: “I’d rather be seen as evil than incompetent.” In other words, the important word in “evil genius” is “genius,” not “evil.”
https://twitter.com/doctorow/status/1440312271511568393
The accord of tech critics and techbros gives rise to a curious hybrid, aptly named by Maria Farrell: the Prodigal Techbro.
A prodigal techbro is a self-styled wizard of machine-learning/surveillance mind control who has see the error of his ways.
https://crookedtimber.org/2020/09/23/story-ate-the-world-im-biting-back/
This high-tech sorcerer doesn’t disclaim his magical powers — rather, he pledges to use them for good, to fight the evil sorcerers who invented a mind-control ray to sell your nephew a fidget-spinner, then let Robert Mercer hijack it to turn your uncle into a Qanon racist.
There’s a great name for this critique, criticism that takes its subjects’ claims to genius at face value: criti-hype, coined by Lee Vinsel, describing a discourse that turns critics into “the professional concern trolls of technoculture.”
https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5
The thing is, Facebook really is terrible — but not because it uses machine learning to brainwash boomers into iodine-guzzling Qnuts. And likewise, there really is a problem with conspiratorial, racist, science-denying, epistemologically chaotic conspiratorialism.
Addressing that problem requires that we understand the direction of the causal arrow — that we understand whether Facebook is the cause or the effect of the crisis, and what role it plays.
“Facebook wizards turned boomers into orcs” is a comforting tale, in that it implies that we need merely to fix Facebook and the orcs will turn back into our cuddly grandparents and get their shots. The reality is a lot gnarlier and, sadly, less comforting.
There’s been a lot written about Facebook’s sell-job to advertisers, but less about the concern over “disinformation.” In a new, excellent longread for Harpers, Joe Bernstein makes the connection between the two:
https://harpers.org/archive/2021/09/bad-news-selling-the-story-of-disinformation/
Fundamentally: if we question whether Facebook ads work, we should also question whether the disinformation campaigns that run amok on the platform are any more effective.
Bernstein starts by reminding us of the ad industry’s one indisputable claim to persuasive powers: ad salespeople are really good at convincing ad buyers that ads work.
Think of department store magnate John Wanamaker’s lament that “Half the money I spend on advertising is wasted; the trouble is I don’t know which half.” Whoever convinced him that he was only wasting half his ad spend was a true virtuoso of the con.
As Tim Hwang documents brilliantly in his 2020 pamphlet “Subprime Attention Crisis,” ad-tech is even griftier than the traditional ad industry. Ad-tech companies charge advertisers for ads that are never served, or never rendered, or never seen.
https://pluralistic.net/2020/10/05/florida-man/#wannamakers-ghost
They rig ad auctions, fake their reach numbers, fake their conversions (they also lie to publishers about how much they’ve taken in for serving ads on their pages and short change them by millions).
Bernstein cites Hwang’s work, and says, essentially, shouldn’t this apply to “disinformation?”
If ads don’t work well, then maybe political ads don’t work well. And if regular ads are a swamp of fraudulently inflated reach numbers, wouldn’t that be true of political ads?
Bernstein talks about the history of ads as a political tool, starting with Eisenhower’s 1952 “Answers America” campaign, designed and executed at great expense by Madison Ave giants Ted Bates.
Hannah Arendt, whom no one can accuse of being soft on the consequences of propaganda, was skeptical of this kind of enterprise: “The psychological premise of human manipulability has become one of the chief wares that are sold on the market of common and learned opinion.”
The ad industry ran an ambitious campaign to give scientific credibility to its products. As Jacques Ellul wrote in 1962, propagandists were engaged in “the increasing attempt to control its use, measure its results, define its effects.”
Appropriating the jargon of behavioral scientists let ad execs “assert audiences, like workers in a Taylorized workplace, need not be persuaded through reason, but could be trained through repetition to adopt the new consumption habits desired by the sellers.” -Zoe Sherman
These “scientific ads” had their own criti-hype attackers, like Vance “Hidden Persuaders” Packard, who admitted that “researchers were sometimes prone to oversell themselves — or in a sense to exploit the exploiters.”
Packard cites Yale’s John Dollard, a scientific ad consultant, who accused his colleagues of promising advertisers “a mild form of omnipotence,” which was “well received.”
Today’s scientific persuaders aren’t in a much better place than Dollard or Packard. Despite all the talk of political disinformation’s reach, a 2017 study found “sharing articles from fake news domains was a rare activity” affecting <10% of users.
https://www.science.org/doi/10.1126/sciadv.aau4586
So, how harmful is this? One study estimates “if one fake news article were about as persuasive as one TV campaign ad, the fake news in our database would have changed vote shares by an amount on the order of hundredths of a percentage point.”
https://www.aeaweb.org/articles?id=10.1257/jep.31.2.211
Now, all that said, American politics certainly feel and act differently today than in years previous. The key question: “is social media creating new types of people, or simply revealing long-obscured types of people to a segment of the public unaccustomed to seeing them?”
After all, American politics has always had its “paranoid style,” and the American right has always had a sizable tendency towards unhinged conspiratorialism, from the John Birch Society to Goldwater Republicans.
Social media may not be making more of these yahoos, but rather, making them visible to the wider world, and to each other, allowing them to make common cause and mobilize their adherents (say, to carry tiki torches through Charlottesville in Nazi cosplay).
If that’s true, then elite calls to “fight disinformation” are unlikely to do much, except possibly inflaming things. If “disinformation” is really people finding each other (not infecting each other) labelling their posts as “disinformation” won’t change their minds.
Worse, plans like the Biden admin’s National Strategy for Countering Domestic Terrorism lump 1/6 insurrectionists in with anti-pipeline activists, racial justice campaigners, and animal rights groups.
Whatever new powers we hand over to fight disinformation will be felt most by people without deep-pocketed backers who’ll foot the bill for crack lawyers.
Here’s the key to Bernstein’s argument: “One reason to grant Silicon Valley’s assumptions about our mechanistic persuadability is that it prevents us from thinking too hard about the role we play in taking up and believing the things we want to believe. It turns a huge question about the nature of democracy in the digital age — what if the people believe crazy things, and now everyone knows it? — into a technocratic negotiation between tech companies, media companies, think tanks, and universities.”
I want to “Yes, and” that.
My 2020 book How To Destroy Surveillance Capitalism doesn’t dismiss the idea that conspiratorialism is on the rise, nor that tech companies are playing a key role in that rise — but without engaging in criti-hype.
https://onezero.medium.com/how-to-destroy-surveillance-capitalism-8135e6744d59
In my book, I propose that conspiratorialism isn’t a crisis of what people believe so much as how they arrive at their beliefs — it’s an “epistemological crisis.”
We live in a complex society plagued by high-stakes questions none of us can answer on our own.
Do vaccines work? Is oxycontin addictive? Should I wear a mask? Can we fight covid by sanitizing surfaces? Will distance ed make my kind an ignoramus? Should I fly in a 737 Max?
Even if you have the background to answer one of these questions, no one can answer all of them.
Instead, we have a process: neutral expert agencies use truth-seeking procedures to sort of competing claims, showing their work and recusing themselves when they have conflicts, and revising their conclusions in light of new evidence.
It’s pretty clear that this process is breaking down. As companies (led by the tech industry) merge with one another to form monopolies, they hijack their regulators and turn truth-seeking into an auction, where shareholder preferences trump evidence.
This perversion of truth has consequences — take the FDA’s willingness to accept the expensively manufactured evidence of Oxycontin’s safety, a corrupt act that kickstarted the opioid epidemic, which has killed 800,000 Americans to date.
If the best argument for vaccine safety and efficacy is “We used the same process and experts as pronounced judgement on Oxy” then it’s not unreasonable to be skeptical — especially if you’re still coping with the trauma of lost loved ones.
As Anna Merlan writes in her excellent Republic of Lies, conspiratorialism feeds on distrust and trauma, and we’ve got plenty of legitimate reasons to experience both.
https://memex.craphound.com/2019/09/21/republic-of-lies-the-rise-of-conspiratorial-thinking-and-the-actual-conspiracies-that-fuel-it/
Tech was an early adopter of monopolistic tactics — the Apple ][+ went on sale the same year Ronald Reagan hit the campaign trail, and the industry’s growth tracked perfectly with the dismantling of antitrust enforcement over the past 40 years.
What’s more, while tech may not persuade people, it is indisputably good at finding them. If you’re an advertiser looking for people who recently looked at fridge reviews, tech finds them for you. If you’re a boomer looking for your old high school chums, it’ll do that too.
Seen in that light, “online radicalization” stops looking like the result of mind control, instead showing itself to be a kind of homecoming — finding the people who share your interests, a common online experience we can all relate to.
I found out about Bernstein’s article from the Techdirt podcast, where he had a fascinating discussion with host Mike Masnick.
https://www.techdirt.com/articles/20210928/12593747652/techdirt-podcast-episode-299-misinformation-about-disinformation.shtml
Towards the end of that discussion, they talked about FB’s Project Amplify, in which the company tweaked its news algorithm to uprank positive stories about Facebook, including stories its own PR department wrote.
https://pluralistic.net/2021/09/22/kropotkin-graeber/#zuckerveganism
Project Amplify is part of a larger, aggressive image-control effort by the company, which has included shuttering internal transparency portals, providing bad data to researchers, and suing independent auditors who tracked its promises.
I’d always assumed that this truth-suppression and wanton fraud was about hiding how bad the platform’s disinformation problem was.
But listening to Masnick and Bernstein, I suddenly realized there was another explanation.
Maybe Facebook’s aggressive suppression of accurate assessments of disinformation on its platform are driven by a desire to hide how expensive (and profitable) political advertising it depends on is pretty useless.
Image: Anthony Quintano (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Mark_Zuckerberg_F8_2018_Keynote_(41793470192).jpg
Cryteria (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:HAL9000.svg
CC BY: https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/deed.en
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theroundbartable · 3 years ago
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Yeah, okay, I know this is wild. There is a fic for this that I would like to share :) (Merlin turning into a tree is a canon Arthurian thing. I’m allowed to do this)
                                                Covid – wars If someone had told Arthur he would one day wake up in the future, he wouldn't have believed it. At least not at first. It would have taken a lot of conviction. A lot of persuasive phrases that convinced him it was possible, as long as evil magic was involved. Then, certainly, he would have been convinced of almost everything. Because when evil magic was involved, anything was possible.   However, certainly not.... this. Arthur grew up in a world that despised magic. He grew up being told that magic was the one true enemy. The very moment of his death, however, he learned that his best friend was magic itself. And if Merlin could be magic itself-. Let's just say, Arthur would sooner be afraid of a rabbit. Those beasts could at least lure you into a trap or a rabbit hole into some delusional kind of magic world that you would only see after a certain set of very specific mushrooms entered your digestive system.  
Merlin couldn't hurt him if he tried. Waking up thousands of years in the future, however, required a whole different kind of imagination.
Especially a futuristic world like this. Arthur woke up, found by people who lived huddled together in caves in what used to be the Albion forests. At least Arthur liked to think that's where he was. The trees here were huge and dark. Unfamiliar and much older and darker than he remembered. But not as dark as the mood that the people were spreading and living with. There were a few things that Arthur had learned since he woke up. First of all, he had to learn an entire new language, because he barely understood a word. Though the words seemed quite similar to the ones he grew up with, their pronunciation was so off, that it took him several weeks to figure them out.
Secondly, people didn't believe in magic, but something else that they called technology. Apparently it was some kind of advanced science that Arthur didn't understand. And that had also, unfortunately, died out hundreds of years ago. Arthur didn't know what electricity was and it didn't seem like anyone was blaming him for not knowing. But perhaps they thought it was some kind of translation error on their part. Arthur still had trouble understanding these people. And they seemed oddly confused, when he understood almost none of their references.
Seriously. In the name of all the five kingdoms, why would he need to know what a meme was? Thirdly, the clothes they wore were odd. People wore all kinds of things. Nothing even remotely similar to the stuff Arthur used to wear. These things were more colorful. Were made of thick fabric that was sewed together from multiple layers of clothing and seemed like amateurs patched them together. Then again, Arthur had long come to label these people as peasants anyway. They didn't use money, they exchanged simple goods and helped each other build things. They farmed and harvested and collected edible things. Just like peasants. Some things never change, no matter in which century.
Nothing they did spoke of any kind of civilization. Kingdoms? That was an idea of children's tales for these people. Arthur didn't get what a democracy was. Let alone the difference between a dictator and a king. But he understood it so that a democracy was basically what Arthur had tried with the round table. Which people seemed to accept as a good. A dictator seemed to be the tyrant version of a king. Like Cendred. But worse. Of course Arthur knew that life wasn't as black and white as that. But that's the way he understood the terms for now. These people appeared to reject any version of holding power over one another. Which struck Arthur as odd. And hardly possible. He didn't understand it. Then again, it was hard to understand the minds of people who had survived the collapse of their governments. Which confused Arthur even more, when they led him into the “ruins of the old world”. What they called “ruins” were buildings so large, they had Arthur gasping almost as soon as he laid eyes on them for the first time. These buildings were larger than any tower he had ever visited. And filled with so much useless but perfectly crafted things that Arthur could only imagine an extremely powerful king to own all of this. Yet there was none.   As soon as Arthur caught himself, he was tasked to search for packages that someone referred to as “chocolate” and bottles of wine and other things that had apparently never went bad. Such as honey or other things Arthur would have paid massive gold for in his own time. Here, he only had to search under debris for it. And found masses of them in this “factory”. At least, that's what they called it. Other ruins were mostly empty. But sometimes they would meet someone who had managed to get some giant metallic machines running and then there would be more food, to everyone's delight. Arthur still marveled at these glowing machines that only worked for a couple minutes until some “cables burned through”, as Gabriel explained to him. Arthur could hardly describe it. This world was completely new to him. This was a world far beyond what he knew. This was a world long after magic was forgotten. Long after, but perhaps also before kingdoms were built or shortly after one had fallen. Arthur couldn't say for sure. It was a world were people craved science more than anything. More than gold. More than magic. Even more than food, apparently. Even the things that these people called “ancient” were so straight out of a magical fairy tale that Arthur often wondered if he was living inside a nightmare or a fantastic dream. It was strange to explain. Since he now lived “after”. Arthur was grateful that these people had taken him in. They fed him, they tried to teach him how to hunt. Though, when they figured out that Arthur was much better at it than them, they let him teach them instead, without complaint. Instead, they seemed rather grateful and even praised him for his talents. It was strange. In Arthur's own time, people would have been much more jealous and a lot less eager to learn.   They dressed him, gave him water and answered his questions to the best of their abilities. In the beginning, Arthur had still believed he had woken up right after his death. That didn't last long, obviously, as soon as someone managed to show him an old “tic toc video”. Which was a magically moving picture of a cat jumping against a glass window. Arthur had been caught between a feeling of marvel and terror upon seeing it. Another part of him had simply been amused. He had been convinced that Merlin had found a way to save him, but apparently that was far from the truth. People had heard of king Arthur. But allegedly, he was “a legend from 2000 years ago.” Arthur would never deny to say he was terrified at those news. But equally astonished. People still remembered him. After that many years. Remarkable. And yet it meant that everyone he knew and loved was dead.
It was a simple realization and yet, it stung harder and much hotter than the sword Mordred had struck him with. It hurt even beyond the knowledge that Mordred had betrayed him. Every time Arthur looked at these people, these strangers, he was reminded of that. Every time he tried to speak to them, every time he got something new to wear or eat, he was reminded of how different it all was. They all were. It seemed, he would just have to make due. Live a new life here. Figure out where he might fit in and how. No matter how difficult that seemed. Arthur sat at the camp fire that night, watching the stars outside mock him, because they were the one thing that never changed. Though, perhaps, their constellation had changed just a little. Taunting him of how the world had shifted as well. Arthur shook his head and looked back into the fire, where he was drying his boots. Like once, a long time ago, Merlin would have done for him. Even after turning out to be a traitor. While Arthur was dying. While they both knew deep down, that nothing could safe him. Yet, he had never given up. Arthur had to admit, he missed Merlin a lot. He thought of him a lot. Wondered how the other man's life might have gone on without him. How it had ended. If he had children, a wife, though it was hard to imagine. Perhaps Merlin would have gotten an apprentice, one day or another. Perhaps Merlin would have saved another king, just as faithful, but perhaps more honest than he had Arthur. That last thought, admittedly, stung. “Say, how did the world 
 get destroyed like this?”, Arthur asked without looking up.   Him and Gabriel, a man about twice his age, half his hair and trice his weight had been sitting here for hours. Arthur didn't need to look up to know how that old fallen face was ignoring him as well. Gabriel was almost blind, according to the milky haze in his eyes. That didn't mean he was any less the teacher of the entire camp. Perhaps he was some kind of leader as well. It was hard to tell, since everyone here was leading one task in one way or another. And they all usually huddled together to discuss how to best move forward from wherever they were. Gabriel was the oldest and probably wisest of them all. Yet, Arthur had seen many men and women alike, disrespect him like no one would have ever dared under Uther's rule. “Who are you, that you don't know?”, Gabriel asked quietly. Almost ominously. He had something of a druid. Though the druids were long gone from the land. “Just a man who found himself in a foreign place.”, Arthur responded equally ominously. It was the best and most believable answer he had to give. It was also mocking in a strangely satisfying way. “You're asking for a tale we tell our children.”, Gabriel caughed and took a deep breath from some small little object he had found in one of those impressive ruins the other day. It released some kind of smoke, but the smell wasn't unpleasant. It smelt sweet, like some kind of dessert Arthur had never got to try in his lifetime. Arthur had heard of the phrase “inhaling your food”, but he had never taken it literally. Perhaps the man was hungrier than he had thought. “I suppose I am a child in this world.” “Aren't we all.”, Gabriel agreed and coughed once more, as if to prove a point. “Well, it all happened in the year 2019.”, he began and Arthur hummed to audibly convey to Gabriel that he was listening without wanting to interrupt him. “A virus spread around the world. Some dingus ate some kind of bat or something and started it all.” Virus. Arthur had heard that term often, lately. People feared it as Arthur used to fear the plague. Apparently it was a similar thing. But these people had defeated the plague, so they told him. This virus however, was beyond their strange powers. Arthur swallowed down a shiver. “The virus was highly contagious. And it was hard to detect. People traveled to other countries or worked for several days until the virus could be detected. Not everyone had symptoms. But they still spread it and many people died of the virus. We all underestimated it's power. It didn't just cause death. It caused so much more. It ruined many lives. People couldn't breathe or lost other vital abilities. Some people had to relearn how to walk, how to move and feed themselves. The health care system wasn't made for so many patients. At first it was really bad. Then they managed to develop tests, so that people could get themselves tested every week. Then they made vaccines that helped milder the symptoms.” “What's... a vaccine?”, Arthur asked carefully. He didn't want to interrupt, but Gabriel didn't seem to mind. “You have never heard of vaccines? They were live saving medicine. They are usually a small portion of a virus itself, injected into your body. Not enough to seriously harm you. Just enough to prepare you for the real thing. They tell your own healing system how to defeat the virus. So when the real thing comes, you've got a protection. It's like the armor you wore when we found you. If you don't feel threatened, why would you wear it? But if a spy of yours warned you that an enemy attacked, surely you would rather walk around with your armor on. Even at home. Of course, it doesn't protect you a 100 %. But it's certainly better than walking around unprotected. It might save your life one day.” “I would just always walk around with armor.”, Arthur murmured, but knew that that wasn't true. Under Uther, yes. Arthur had been paranoid of magical attacks from everywhere. Since he couldn't know who would use magic against them or when. But when Uther died and he got to trust his people more and more, he relied on armor far less. Only when he went to battle he put it on. Only when he felt endangered. He understood the comparison though. If he had a vaccine, he wouldn't have to be as afraid of a virus, as when he didn't. It was a pretty simple concept.
In the end, Arthur might have died wearing armor, but that didn't mean wearing it was a mistake. It had protected him many times. And perhaps he wouldn't have had that long needed conversation with Merlin, had he not worn it. Gabriel ignored that last comment. He seemed to understand that Arthur was going through something and gave him enough time to ponder it over, before he continued. “Well, our world was open back then. Everyone could cross almost every border. And so the virus spread all over the world. The vaccines helped. But not everyone believed in them. There were those, who doubted it's function. People doubted the government. The government was corrupted, but people claimed they were watched and chipped through the vaccine. Which is bullshit. They had phones where people typed in everything about themselves. Including address, faces, even finger prints. And they did it out of their own volition. The government would never have needed chips to control the population. But as you can tell, the government didn't really help debunk those conspiracy theories, when they made vaccine and tests and masks a marketing thing. The governments bought and horded them all, like rare pokĂ©mon. Third world countries couldn't get a hold of them. They suffered the worst under the pandemic. Then suffered the people who couldn't afford the masks and tests and vaccines. (1) After that, mutated versions of the viruses spread. So the countries decided to close their borders. In time, every country had their own mutations and their people got used to their own viruses. Twenty years later, they tried to reopen the borders in some countries, as the masses had gotten used to the Virus and it was about as harmless as a small flu. But it turned out that the viruses had mutated too much. The humans who survived, could not deal with any other mutations than their own. And another wave of the pandemic spread, as soon as the first borders opened. They closed them again. For a while, people got used to the new world order. But with closed borders returned racism ten fold. This time based on fear of the viruses. It got worse than ever before. And before you know it, the USA and Russia declared war on one another over vaccine resources. Then followed the countries they had contracts with  and joined the fight. At first, it was a war without people actively fighting one another. Only collateral damage. Unfortunately, death of civilians also counted as collateral damage. They send drones, rather than people to kill people. For a long time, people had feared a nuclear battle. But then, one country that was placed between the front lines and suffered the most from the so called collateral damage, they send out biological weapons. People with deadly mutations of the virus were send over the border. The attack may not have been as fatal as a nuclear exchange. But it spread wider. It killed just as many people and it started an even heavier exchange. Countries followed the example and in the end, they opened the borders after all. This time, as a war declaration. England had long broken away from the European nations for a while at that point and therefore didn't have to join the war, which they would have, had they still been part of the contract. Brexit didn't seem so dumb then... It was for everything else though. After an about six year long third world war, England was forced to join as well. And so the mutated viruses spread here as well. They have long broken through the vaccines. The mutation adapted so that animals could catch them too and give them to humans. And then... well. When the people who managed to survive all that came together to bury their loved ones,   Korea was forcefully united by it's dictator and finally the nuclear war that we feared took place. By this point, half the world population was already gone or incapacitated. The bombs killed another third of what was left of us. They attacked our networks first. Our generators for electricity. Or the places that held our servers for the internet. Hospitals and big cities. We lost our ways for communication. We couldn't contact one another anymore. And soon enough, everything else, that was connected to the internet, was destroyed as well. Our water and canal systems, out of order. We had no access to anything anymore. For the past two hundred years, we had to relearn everything we've ever known. Including how to deal with the masses of radiations, after our nuclear reactors were destroyed. Many people starved to death, got cancer, not knowing what to do, how to survive or how to even get food. Many people froze to death, too used to warm blankets and heating systems to ever learn how to make a fire or how to build up a tent. Especially in winter. Humanity had grown soft and dumb and nature took the dumbest of us first. But we also learned how to be kind to one another in the times of war and fear. Well... some of us.  And those people survived. We once expected the trained and fit ones to outlive us first. But they were egoistic or overestimated themselves often. They risked more than what they were worth. They died on reckless quests. The people survived were those who, even before the wars, knitted scarfs for their friends or learned how to differentiate between edible plants for a hobby. They stuck together. Not scared to provide help and warmth for one another, because they had connected over other more meaningless conflicts. And that's the kind of society we have today. We've build it on the best that humanity left behind. Though of course, there are still some assholes who survive on theft and murder.” When Gabriel ended, Arthur had to take a deep breath. Perhaps this explained why he had been sick for a couple of days, when he woke up and was found by some kind of rescue dog. He had been out for several days. He hadn't been able to smell or taste anything. He had felt like he could barely breathe. His mind wouldn't focus and he had been shuddering all over.
Not to mention that tingling feeling on his skin. He had blamed it on resurrection. On... time travel, perhaps. Or the long gone stab wound that killed him. But perhaps he had caught the virus. And somehow managed to be one of the lucky ones who survived it with only mild symptoms.
After so many mutations, was that even reasonable? Or was that a gift from Avalon? “I see.”, Arthur commented and wistfully closed his eyes, though he understood only half of the words Gabriel used. Electricity, radiation, internet... those were words far beyond his understanding. Since they were gone, it shouldn't be too much of a problem. It still was quite daunting to hear how much humanity had lost. And apparently still craved for these things that Arthur had never known. “Wait, did you say, third world war?” It was in this moment, that a child ran into the cave. She was small and for some reason wore a dirty mask that might have been white once upon a time. She stopped, several feet away from them. The almost blind man turned to her, his voice strained. “Lisa, what is it? Why are you wearing that old thing?” He could see that much, that was somewhat relieving. “Oscar and Percival are sick! We think they might have caught the Australian mutation!” “That shouldn't be possible.”, the old man paled. “The borders to Australia are closed!” “Australian? Why, is that something bad?”, Arthur asked, extremely worried now. What on earth was Australian? “Australia is a continent.”, Gabriel knew by now that Arthur knew basically nothing of this world. And he also knew that Arthur was often too embarrassed to ask specific questions. Even now, Arthur grew red with shame, as he realized that knowledge like that was universal in this world. “One of the few that did not open their borders. Their mutations has by far the worst effects and spreads very fast. Lisa, you gotta stay away from us.”(2) The small girl with the brown skin and jet black pig tails nodded. She didn't seem conflicted by that outburst. Instead, she stepped another step backwards, as if the distance she had already put between them still wasn't enough. There was a reason why she stayed at the cave's entrance. “What do we do now?”, she asked. Perhaps a little overwhelmed. “It depends. How bad is it?”, Gabriel asked, extremely worried now. “Percival's fever is too high. We don't have enough medicine to treat him. And Oscar has developed the rash. He won't stop scratching.” (3)
Gabriel sighed deeply. “Who has been in contact with them?” “Only Craig. And I've talked to Craig. They made three tests. All of them were positive.” “Thank god, you're still okay. Make sure that it stays that way. Stay in the tent. We have to bring them water and food every day. Arthur here will go and search for help.” “Search for help?”, Arthur asked, an eyebrow raised. “Is there no physician among your people?” “They are called doctors, Arthur. And no. Even if there were, it would be too risky to send them in there. We simply don't have the means to send them in safely. And we cannot risk losing any doctors to a sickness we have no cure to.” “Then... what is this help, I'm supposed to get?” Gabriel sighed again, before he turned back to Arthur. “Deep, deep in the forests of London, stands a lone tree. It's an old oak tree. Older than the war. It somehow survived all the bombings of the second world war. It survived nuclear catastrophes. It was once considered a national treasure. One drop of it's resin is said to cure all ills.” “You're sending me out for a magical cure?”, Arthur asked, an eyebrow raised. “I thought you don't believe in superstition?” “I don't.”, the raspy voice of Gabriel made a pause. “If that's true then, wouldn't people have tried to gather the magical resin?” “Some have. It's a mystery as much to me, as it is to you. But people with ill intentions seem to... forget about it's properties. It is a cure to all illnesses. Illness of the mind included.” Arthur raised both eyebrows. “Sounds like magic to me.” “Perhaps that's what it is.” Arthur nodded slowly. A part of him wanted to say “Magic is evil.”, But his own mind stuttered at the phrase. Merlin had magic. Merlin had never been evil. He had only been a liar. For the most innocent of reasons. “Do you have a map?”, Arthur asked, finally.  He may not know this world. But he could still read a fucking map. “Yes. I do. Mary holds it for me. You have five days to find the tree. Should you have caught the virus, then that is when it's effects will knock you out. And Arthur, please. Hurry. Oscar and Percival won't have that long.” ----------------------------------------------- In a way it was relieving to Arthur to be on a quest again. Quests and missions. Riding on horse back. Only a map that showed him his way to a magical object that he had to obtain. Perhaps not as much had changed as he had believed.
Usually, however, his quests were ailed with traps and bandits. Gabriel hadn't been kidding when he said only the best of humanity had survived. People who helped one another, rather than just took. Those who rather took than helped, had claimed the ruins as their properties. Perhaps that's why their little group lived in caves. Arthur was glad for it. There were no impressive ruins here. He didn't have any possessions worth stealing, except maybe the horse and the very clothes he wore. Arthur was dressed like a peasant. No money, no royal seal, no frigging sword! And he had to leave his armor behind as well. But he was warm and had a little food on him and the map to that blasted oak tree. Other than that he was alone. He was trusted and he was strangely safe. Initially, Arthur had feared wild beasts. But Gabriel assured him that the wildest beast out here in the forest, would be  deer. And the tree he was looking for. So really... this felt like a quest made for children who were playing knights. Arthur was a knight. It felt... easy. Too easy. The initial feeling of too easy only increased into an instinctive wary, when the goal of his adventure presented itself to him after only two days of searching for it. To put it simply. The oak tree was obviously huge. Countless labyrinths of roots covered the ground, only to grow into wilder trees just a little outside the tree's radius. Making Arthur wonder, if perhaps the entire forest was just one giant tree. Which would raise the question, why he even rode here. He could have just gathered resin from any of those trees. Or didn't the healing abilities reach far enough? Also... who got the idea to eat resin in the first place? Arthur shook his head. People were weird. Merlin used to search his chambers for woodworm with a goblet and fed him rat soup. No, Arthur wasn't really surprised. The bark of the tree was overgrown with moss, when Arthur placed a gentle hand on it's soft surface. And Arthur wondered where this “London” was that Gabriel had mentioned. He mentioned it once as an overgrown destroyed ancient city. But as he said before, there were no ruins, no altars, nothing that indicated any kind of civilization. Somehow, the place London had just vanished. All that remained was the tree. And lots of rocks and stone. Or perhaps the stones were London. Once... Many many lifetimes ago. Or perhaps, this was the wrong tree. Yet, a part of Arthur felt that he couldn't mistake the oak tree for anything other than what it was. There was an age to the wood that met Arthur's own with a sensation of same. Arthur couldn't help but smile. It strangely felt, like he had met this tree before. It felt familiar. Like home. Perhaps the tree was two thousand years old. Trees could be ancient. It was a shame that he would have to carve into it, to get some resin out. Reluctantly, Arthur pulled out the stone knife that Gabriel had given him. A testament of the relic information passed on by historian's. Much easier to produce than metal weapons. Much faster, too. Even if it wasn't as sufficient, since the bandits of this time had much better and sharper weapons. But they mostly left Arthur's colony alone. Perhaps out of fear to catch the virus. Anyone could have it. According to Gabriel, even when the virus just started, reports of theft and crime had decreased by a lot. Just when Arthur was about to thrust his stone knife into the bark of the tree, he could feel an ached rumbling flood his mind. As if something was shifting in the small forest. As if the forest was waking up. Arthur blinked, when he realized it wasn't just his imagination. He couldn't just imagine the root he was standing on to shift like a giant snake. Arthur fought with gravity, as the whole thing rose higher than Arthur was tall, until he finally slipped of and rolled himself off on the ground. Huffing and panting, Arthur dodged the branches, that suddenly slashed in his direction. And suddenly he wasn't surprised anymore, why the oak tree was known to some people and still people didn't rely on it's healing abilities.
Yeah, the tree really was the wiliest creature in the entire forest. That at least wasn't a lie. A less sarcastic warning would have been nice. Arthur growled in his mind, hoping Gabriel would somehow feel the silent grudge send his way. Then again, perhaps he hadn't known.
A deep, jarring sound ripped Arthur off his distracted mind and Arthur watched helplessly, as the entire tree seemed to bend on itself. Arthur swallowed deeply, still trying to dodge the branches that now not only slashed his way, but also grew up his legs. Like living vines. “Shit.”, Arthur gritted and started hacking uselessly at the vines with his stone knife. One particularly wide branch snaked around his torso, gripping him too tight at the waist. Arthur pushed at the branch to struggle himself out of it's grip. He even held his breath to force all his energy into the push. But when he was lifted from the ground, he knew it was pointless. He rose higher and higher into the sky. Several feet from the ground. Far enough for him to know that he wouldn't survive a fall like that. Arthur gasped for air, wincing at the pain he felt from the squeezing wood around his vulnerable waist. And then he gasped again, when the tree suddenly opened a giant eye. Wood cracked open, revealing something that looked more like a giant, human eye. Blue. Far too blue. Arthur hissed in a breath. The tree was alive. “Who are you.”, the voice spoke slowly. It's voice old and raspy like time itself. When it spoke, the tree itself broke open. It's teeth revealing to be giant splinters that fit together seamlessly. The wood inside it's mouth younger and brighter than the wood outside. Yet, there were so many year circles in it's mouth that Arthur still couldn't tell how old the tree was.
Wait a goddamn second. That voice sounded familiar. “Dragoon?”, Arthur asked, suddenly feeling betrayed by his own fear. Or intelligence. Or both.  “Dragoon the great? Is that YOU?” The tree blinked. And the blinking made Arthur's head turn to avoid splinters that flew his way, only to bounce off and fall into the abyss beneath him. It felt like someone had thrown rice at him. Only that the rice was much bigger and much more dangerous to his vulnerable human skin. A trait that Dragoon no longer seemed to share. With increasing fear, Arthur realized that he couldn't even see the ground from here. “I haven't heard that name in many, many years.”, the tree responded slowly. Very slowly. Like he got all the time in the world. Perhaps he did. He was a fucking tree! “Is that really you?”, Arthur asked again, because the thought of Dragoon still being alive irked something in his mind. Wait a second... Dragoon was the old man in the battle of Camlann. “Oh my gosh, you're MERLIN!” Arthur felt stupid. He had known the old man that turned the tide in the battle of Camlann was Merlin. Of course he had. But somehow his mind still hadn't accepted that that old man was Dragoon as well. The man who killed his father. The man who tricked Uther to believe Dragoon had enchanted Arthur with a love spell, so Uther wouldn't kill Gwen for that ridiculous accusation. Now, if Dragoon was Merlin, the entire charade finally made sense. The tree jarred again, but it sounded awfully like a yawn. “Merlin, how on earth did you become a tree?” “How long have I been asleep? Who is talking to me and why are you so tiny? Let me look at you.” The branch that held Arthur was slowly rising higher to meet the overproportional eyes on... eye level. The giant eyes were crusty from wood, they needed some time to get used to Arthur's appearance and blinked in an out of focus a couple of times. But when he did finally see Arthur properly, the entire tree yelped. Meaning, it made a sound like a very old, very wooden cabin on top of a mountain that had been left alone for too long and now fell victim to a winter storm. It was creaking and cracking at all edges. “Arthur!”, the tree gasped and then the eyes blinked a couple times again. “You're alive!” “You're a TREE!”, Arthur shot back. Immortality, he could have lived with. After all, Morgana had claimed to be immortal too. Arthur had met undead knights. He fought living skeletons for god's sake. He had witnessed the drastic aging of a man much younger than himself. He had faced thousand year old dragons and wyverns, Griffin's and questing beasts. But he had never talked to a tree before. Slowly, the branch lowered itself and let Arthur down safely on the ground. A little relieved, Arthur grabbed for his stomach. He could already feel the bruises forming where the twigs had poked into his side. The tree however, immediately began to change. White mist crept up the bole and seemed to spread all over the forest. It reminded Arthur a lot of the mist that hovered over the lakes in Albion. It was like the wood was melting down into liquid that somehow formed itself up into a more dramatically human shape. When Merlin took his first breath as a human, he stumbled forward, as if he had forgotten how to walk. Perhaps he had. With a curse under his breath, Arthur reached forward to keep Merlin upright. However, as soon as Arthur touched Merlin's shoulder, his former servant turned around and promptly flung himself into Arthur's arms. “Arthur, thank GOD, finally!”, he muttered without putting any effort into standing upright. Arthur staggered as he tried to hold his friend up. Arthur wanted to be annoyed. He wanted to shout at Merlin, demand for some answers. But the relief to not be alone in this new world anymore, far outweighed his confusion. And so he allowed himself a moment to revel in the warmth that Merlin radiated. To marvel in the feeling of finally hugging Merlin properly. No armor, no barrier between them, but the thick shirts they were wearing. Though Merlin still wore that ridiculous scarf and was that the same jacket he had worn for ten years? Arthur had an arm around Merlin's waist, the other slung over his shoulder and he could feel how thin the other man had gotten. Merlin's face was buried in Arthur's collarbone and his fists gently grabbed at Arthur's shirt. “It's nice to see you, too, Merlin.”, Arthur finally said, despite all of the questions he would rather ask. “Took you long enough.”, Merlin sighed and Arthur could feel the warm breath dampening his shirt. That was his cue to push Merlin away and force him to sit down on the mossy ground. Somehow, the forest itself had not disappeared. Everything was still here, except the giant oak tree. “Well...”, Arthur began and promptly decided to sit down next to Merlin, so the man could keep hugging him from the side. Arthur let him, despite reluctantly. Memories of “hold me please” and “I thought you were going for a hug” repeated in Arthur's mind and the former king realized just how often he had pushed Merlin away. That seemed silly now. Merlin had magic. Arthur died in his arms. He was no longer king and Merlin no longer his servant. Merlin was the only person in this world Arthur ever fully trusted. And he had missed him more than he would ever dare admit. And he happened to have been a tree the entire time. That little twat! They had been through weirder stuff than a simple hug. And perhaps this one was just desperately needed. “Wanna tell me how you became a tree?” Merlin blinked up at Arthur and for a moment Arthur felt the breath knocked out of him. Somehow he had forgotten how doe-eyed Merlin was. And how that gaze always seemed to spark some kind of recognition in his mind. It's been too long. “Oh. I er... I was sick of waiting for you, so I turned into one. I knew you'd find me.”, Merlin said, just as slow as before. Still tired. “You knew I'd come back?”, Arthur asked. Even though his mind had a strange moment of 'oh so you weren't cursed, splendid'. That would have been much more difficult.' realization. “Of course you would. In your next life. You look a lot like you used to.” “That's because I wasn't reborn. I woke up in a forest not far from here. Just a couple months back. I was told to find some remedy for some kind of illness. I was supposed to get resin from a magical oak tree. Which was... you apparently. There was an apocalypse. Have you been asleep the entire time?” “Hmm.”, Merlin nuzzled further into Arthur's arm. Apparently that was all he had to say. “Hey, are you immune to the virus?” “What virus?” “Good god.”, Arthur stared at Merlin, eyes wide with wonder and fear. And then another stupid realization: “Oh no, great. Now the tree you is gone. How on earth am I supposed to find the remedy... Wait a second... if resin from the tree was a magical cure... and you were the tree... Then what was that resin?”, Arthur stared at Merlin who clung to his arm like a life line. “Hmm... I felt some people trying to stab me sometimes. I healed myself with magic. I guess the resin would have been a mix of my blood and magic.” “Okay...”, Arthur nodded and swallowed down a lump. “You think you can still heal people?” “Are you sick?”, suddenly Merlin went into fully awake alarm mode. His eyes snapped open and he rose up from his half asleep position like a guard dog. Checking Arthur's forehead for increased body temperature, his eyes for any strange changes. And then he was so close, he was basically sitting in Arthur's lap. Not that Arthur wasn't used to it. In his last two days on earth, Merlin had basically carried him, fed him, cared for his wounds, wiped of the sweat of his face and so on and so forth. But Arthur wasn't injured now.
And he hadn't seen Merlin in months. Merlin hadn't seen him in centuries.
“I don't think so. But the people that took me in... they are. Do you think you can help?” “I'm a physician. I guess so.” “This is a new virus. They need your magic to ail it. Normal doctor work won't be enough.”, Arthur commented. And felt strange suggesting that at all. “Okay.” There was a pause between them. “How urgent is it?”, Merlin asked, finally. “They expect me back in three days. We should rest and then go back, once you remembered how to walk.”, Arthur commented. It was quiet yet again, when Merlin mumbled something under his breath that made Arthur's skin buzz with a strange magic light. Arthur would have been afraid, but the buzzing was kind of comfortable and warm. “You're not sick.”, Merlin said, once it had stopped. “Alright.”, Arthur said. “Thank you.”, he added. Not sure if that was for the x-ray or everything else Merlin had done for him. Still, Merlin didn't move. Still too close, though Arthur found that he didn't really mind. “A tree, really?”, Arthur finally asked, because that thought was irritating. As an answer, Merlin just slung his arms around Arthur, like the branch had earlier. Much, much gentler and around his neck this time, though. His hands felt icy on Arthur's neck. He suppressed a shudder. Then he relaxed into Merlin's touch. “How long did you wait for me, before you turned into a tree?”, Arthur asked carefully. “700 years.”, Merlin muttered against Arthur's neck. “You're awfully touchy.”, Arthur commented, but there was no bite to it. Merlin had lived for 700 years and still reacted like that upon seeing Arthur again? Shouldn't he be like... mad? Or... confused? How did he even remember Arthur's face? “You try going through plagues and repetitive witch trials and murder and not wanting to just be a tree. Only to be stabbed all over, while you're not even moving. Everything is cold as hell, your only friends are other trees who agree to share their nutrients with you, but only if they like you. Lamarck over there, is a frigging asshole, I swear. He's only 120, he has no right to be so frigging mean! Not to mention all the birds who were nesting on my head and picking holes into my face. I'm just so tired.” “I thought you were sleeping.” Arthur had to raise an eyebrow. Talking trees? Really, Merlin... Wait. Arthur had talked to a tree shaped Merlin just moments earlier. “Was.”, Merlin nodded and seemed to slowly get used to Arthur's warmth. Speaking of which, Merlin was awfully cold. He didn't look the tiniest bit older though. “I see.”, Arthur muttered. Though he didn't get it at all. He started rubbing soothing circles into Merlin's shoulder. Which only made Merlin melt deeper into the embrace. He leaned forward, until Arthur was basically breathing down his neck. “But hey, you're here.”, Arthur realized all of a sudden just how impossibly true that sentence was.
It was amazing. Merlin was here. “Yes. You're here.”, Merlin smiled and his eyes were closed, even when his mouth was split into such a wide grin. Then, Merlin's head perked up, as if the the same realization just came to him as well. Finally awake, Merlin squished Arthur's face between his hands as he loomed over Arthur all of a sudden.. “Oh my god, you're HERE!” Arthur wanted to counter, but he was too distracted by the way Merlin scanned his entire face, especially his eyes. And suddenly Merlin's face came closer and in a matter of split moments, Arthur felt a soft pressure on his own lips. His eyes widened, as he realized what Merlin was doing. But the mage pressed further into him. Kissing him from above, Arthur's face fixed into place with such a gentle urgency that Arthur found himself unable to fight him off. No. Not unable. Unwilling. Slowly, Arthur's own hand found Merlin's and the mage shuddered, as if expecting to be pushed away. As if Arthur could do that. As if he ever would. When they finally broke apart, it was Merlin who had moved away first. For a moment they just stared at each other. “Sorry.”, Merlin said nervously. “I've wanted to do that for millenia.” “Mood.”, Arthur replied slowly, proving just how much he had adapted to modern English already. Merlin tilted his head. “What?” “You've been asleep for too long. Come on, we have to go.”, Arthur jumped to his feet, unable to look at Merlin and explain what he had meant. Though he could guess that Merlin was putting the pieces together by the red at the tips of Arthur's ears. Merlin should be smart enough for that at least. “Come on, tree trunk, we got to safe some people.” “Tree trunk?” “Not my fault you were a tree.” “Technically..” “Shut up, Merlin.”
“Are you mad at me?” “Why would I be mad?”, Arthur turned around slowly. Honestly caught off by that question. “I just kissed you.” Arthur halted. Merlin was still sitting on the ground. Did he really think Arthur wouldn't.... Arthur gabbed him by the arms and heaved him to his – admittedly – wobbly feet. Arthur may be courage himself, but this action took everything out of him anyway.  He dipped Merlin over, just to kiss him as passionately as he dared. When he let go, Merlin was positively swooning in place. “Now, we're even.”, Arthur declared and pulled Merlin by the hand in the direction of the caves Arthur had crawled from. “That's not how it works.”, Merlin muttered, but Arthur could hear the hesitant smile in his voice.
--------------------------------------------------------------- It turned out, Merlin really could heal everyone. The symptoms of the sickness were gone the moment Merlin breathed into the tent that Oscar and Percival were lying in.
It was their quarantine tent, allegedly. Lisa had eventually joined them, in the meantime while Arthur was gone. Her breathing had become difficult enough to knock her unconscious. That was, until Merlin touched her forearm and suddenly she was jumping around again, like a goat that had just learned to walk.
It took a while, with Merlin just waltzing around, humming strange tunes. But eventually, everyone's illnesses or symptoms of whatever they had suddenly disappeared. When Gabriel approached them, his eyes were clear of the once milky mist inside them. “Arthur! You're back! Who is that? What did he do? I can see clearly!”, he seemed confused. Delighted. Wary, even.
Arthur grabbed Gabriel by the forearm to shake it, like he used to with the knights. “This might be a bit difficult to explain.”
“Is it the resin? Did you give all of us the resin from the tree?” “And that's the difficult part. You see... that is Merlin. He was the tree.” Gabriel frowned, then his eyes widened. “Wait... you mean, he's the old sorcerer Merlin? From the Arthurian legends...”, he paused and blinked. “And your name is Arthur?” “I know it's hard to believe, but -” “No no no. You misunderstand. There are legends that king Arthur would one day return. And there are stories about Merlin turning himself into a tree. I erm... I am literally not blind anymore. I think it's safe to believe you.” Arthur blinked a couple of times. “Really? Just like that?” Gabriel blinked, then pointed at Merlin who was still humming happily and making edible plants grow, where the people had formed a small garden for themselves. “People did not believe in vaccines, even though they clearly helped. The evidence of this cure, is shoved right into my face. You can call me naive. But I like to have faith. And this is hard to deny.” Arthur nodded slowly. “So now, call your gay little wizard, I think we're ready to have a feast!”, Gabriel beamed.
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A.N:// (1) Just a reminder, this story is an exaggerated fictional post apocalyptic one. I do not believe that this is actually our future. But I've said it right from the very beginning. Our current situations tastes the same way that usually zombie apocalypse movies begin. At this point I will recommend the movie “warm bodies”. It's a beautiful movie with a happy end. Watch it, if this story makes you paranoid or sad :) Also, I am not accurate in my descriptions, so please don't hate me for this. One of my friends actually did suffer from a more serious symptom of CoVid, despite being fully vaccinated (she ended up in the hospital for a couple of days. She's fine now, don't worry.). Two other of my friends also, currently, have caught Corona. One of them is very close to her birthday, and you may think of me as superstitious. But since I know her, something bad has always happened on that day. People fought, got hurt or in one particular bad case, died only 6 hours after he had been on her party, so I have a right to be worried, alright? She hasn't had a single good birthday in at least 8 years. I just hope this year will be different. I don't want her to lose another loved one on that day. She's suffered enough. I think, under Covid, most of you have.
I, and my family, have been lucky thus far. And perhaps my grandmother's prayers or my great grandfather's druid magic is protecting us (dunno, he did wipe out five families because of a pig once, perhaps that counts as blood sacrifice for the safety of five more generations? Who the fuck knows, that man was wild.), but I really wish that this pandemic will come to an end soon. We don't need any more suffering or deaths. And certainly not whatever it is that I ended up doing in this story. Just remember, this IS a story. And it should be treated as such. Perhaps if I write the worst possible outcome of this virus, it will suck up all the bad energy and then the virus will be gone. Nah, I did not inherit any magic powers. I can't even see ghosts or aura's. Nor do I know spells. But that does not matter. What matters is that you all stay save and I hope that you do. And that this story stays a stupid story. Even if I want Arthur to come back and assume the throne, so Merlin can be back as well, but that's correlation!
Edit: So, my mom just tested positive on Corona and now I have no clue on what to do. Work told me to stay home and wait for a call back, so that's what I'm doing right now. It is confusing though, because law says I should go and work. I asked like.... 5 people for what to do next. So, let's hope it'll work out fine. It is also a bit irritating that it happened, right before I wanted to post this... Hmm (2) I am basing this on a story about wild birds that keep attacking people in Australia at a certain time of the year that I came across once. The hear knowledge that it's hot there. And apparently it's the closest to Jurassic park I can imagine. Thank you, I suck at geography. This is not an offense, it is a compliment :) (3) I'm making up additional conditions. As I said, this outcome is exaggerated. Please don't lynch me.
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checkfortraps · 3 years ago
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Posting this again since Tumblr decided to eat it. Curse of Strahd-related advice request below the cut - if you’re currently playing through the campaign, please don’t read.
For my game, I decided to follow this post on how to personalize Dark Powers that seek to make a pact with your PCs in the hopes of displacing Strahd and Vampyr as rulers of Barovia. The dealings come with 3 stages of power at which the PCs receive boons and flaws.
Unfortunately, I find myself utterly stuck. I have something for the cleric, and, thanks to a friendly DM, also something for the fighter. But I can’t for the life of me come up with something good for the other two party members.
Here’s where I hope swarm intelligence can come in - if you have any suggestion, no matter how small, please reach out to be, I’m suffering lol.
Theldan - The Departed
Reborn bloodhunter (Profane Soul - Undead)
Dex build, skirmisher-type combat moves
originally from Eberron - he's the nephew of Queen Dannel ir'Wyrnan, aka the Darklord of Cyre 1313, who caused the Mourning trying to shift Cyre into the Mists (not that Theldan knows that last bit). He was sent by Dannel to recover a book filled with artifice prototypes and arcane rituals that servants of Strahd stole from the train.
Theldan's personal quest will feature finding out about what his aunt did, and that only a Dark Power could finish her ritual and fully shift Cyre over (and potentially instate a system of reincarnation like Barovia has)
Theldan desperately longs for freedom, so I came up with a Dark Power I'm currently calling the Departed, for lack of a better name. The Departed pretends to be a previous adventurer who perished in Barovia and, as a ghost in the Mists, learned to harness some of their magic. It feigns to be scared of the Dark Powers, and wants to bestow power on Theldan so they both may escape
the Departed would grant powers related to freedom, so I'd like something to grant extra mobility and skirmishing abilities. I had considered permanent Freedom of Movement or some Misty Step-style teleportation, but that feels a bit boring. Also, I don't really know what kind of kills someone like that would feed on
if you have a different idea what this Dark Power could be instead of the Departed, I’m more than willing to hear it, I’m not married to the concept
Wren - The Storyteller
aasimar, Radiant Consumption celestial revelation
Creation bard focused on support and debuff
unbeknownst to them, Wren is a half-Vistani, born in Barovia, but raised in Faerûn. They sometimes have prophetic nightmares that warn them of danger.
Wren is a happy-go-lucky trickster with sticky hands and unshakeable optimism. They strongly believe in the inherent goodness of people, and that everyone deserves a second chance if they want it
for Wren, I came up with the Storyteller. They're a Loki-style trickster who pretends to be everyone's best friend who just wants to introduce some light and shenanigans into dreary Barovia. Their name comes from wanting to create events that make for good stories. Of course, their true goal is more sinister, and they feed on the souls of those killed in creative ways.
I unfortunately have absolutely no clue what powers a being like that would grant
Please help lol
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c-is-for-circinate · 4 years ago
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So as close as I am to fully escaping Hades for the first time, I figure I might take this opportunity to write down a couple of things I'm scared of from this ending. The story is so good so far! But I have seen good stories before! And there are patterns, right, patterns it's so easy for even good stories to fall into, so yeah, I have fears, and they mostly come down to Hades himself.
(Yep, this one got long again! People seem to be enjoying my game-reaction rambles, so, for your enjoyment under the cut: themes of separation and reunion, predictions for what Zagreus is the god of, and a whole lot of discussion of familial abuse dynamics, how they're depicted in fiction, and the work it takes to change them in real life. Stay warned! Stay safe!)
(ALSO, I still haven't made it past the first couple of chambers in the Temple of Styx, so no spoilers in the reblogs/comments please! Yes, even though the whole post is me going on about predictions and hopes and concerns about the path the story might take. I WILL GET THERE SOON.)
It has been really interesting watching some of the stuff the game is doing with themes of parting and reunion, and how that corresponds to life and death. So many of our social links are about reuniting estranged loved ones: Chaos and Nyx, Eurydice and Orpheus, Patroclus and Achilles. Hades is estranged from Olympus, Persephone left. And every time we leave, or try to leave, it is both an attempt at a parting (and Meg and Than are so hurt by that goodbye, or lack thereof) and an attempt at a reunion with our mother. Every time we die it's a reunion, every time we die it's fun, it's great, we get to go back home and check in with all of our friends and be impressed by whoever made Employee Of The [Timeperiod] and sell fish to the cook and put down yet more rugs. (My Zagreus has something of a rug addiction. What can you do.)
It's at the point where I feel pretty secure in stating that Zagreus is going to discover eventually that he is both life/death/rebirth god, and god of partings and reunions. Both halves of both of those things. People leave each other when they die and re-find their loved ones in death; you go away from one group of people to come back to another; you have to depart to return, and I really think that's where we're going to end up with Zagreus. He's going to reunite his various friends with their loved ones, he's probably going to restore communications between Hades and Olympus and even Persephone, he's going to reunite with his mom, and he's going to come back to the Underworld before he leaves to see everyone up top all over again. And of course the vehicle for all of this coming and going is death, because death is the ultimate departure and reuniter. (This is absolutely a religious concept containing a whole bunch of "oh hey our culture has a lot of Christian influence, doesn't it", Greek trappings aside, but that's fine, it's a game made in 2018 not 300 BC, these things happen. They keep calling the Underworld 'hell' and 'infernal'. It's all good.) Of course he's a cthonic god. Of course he bleeds, because you have to bleed in order to die, and Zagreus has to die again and again and again. That's his whole thing.
Thing is, though, looking at those themes, I am also continually aware of the fact that some partings are for a really good reason. Some partings should not end in reunion.
Yes, of course this is about Hades the abusive dad. I have been talking about Hades the abusive dad basically non-stop since I started playing this game, where did you think this post was going.
There are a few things I'm nervous about, separate but related, and at the core it all comes down to, I'm not okay with it if we learn why Hades got to be this way, and Zagreus forgives him as we-the-audience are meant to do, and Hades promises to do better, and nothing concrete about the situation is forced to change. Actual, meaningful, practical, logistical, non-hypothetical non-metaphorical change, not just for Zagreus but for Hades himself.
Because I know how this story tends to go, in fiction. Fictional abusive parents (especially in fantasy/sci-fi stories) tend to come in two types: 'coerced their offspring into actual murder with a side of physical abuse and optional unethical lab experimentation', or 'this was here to create character conflict, we didn't mean for it to read as actually abusive, this parent just has flaws to make them a good character, we swear!' Hades isn't the first type--we have never once seen Hades strike his son, or anybody, or even come out from behind his desk--which means that the fear is, always, always, in every piece of fiction, that he's the second. That the writers are going to decide that the right response to his abuses is remorse, forgiveness, and one really good conversation. That they don't realize it's abuse in the first place.
And, like. They have to know, right? They have to. They can't have done this by accident. (Sometimes, writers get so close by accident.) They can't have done so well at drawing out this situation simply by going, 'well, people are meant to fear this god, so they'd probably react like this, and I guess based on what I've seen in other stories or vague acquaintances they'd then do this,' and never put the name on the situation. Every single time we leave to the tune of a Hades word-flash, he's being dismissive, insulting, and sometimes downright cruel. He is cruel. They have to know!!!
But oh boy have I been consuming media for a lot of years, and oh boy have I run into a lot of writers who don't know.
Reconciliation is such a loaded word, but stories about dysfunctional families really do love it. Stories based around themes of reunion are primed for it. And of course, it's nice, it ties a happy ending off with a sweet little bow, everyone gets to be with the people they love and the family is safe and nobody gets hurt, but so rarely have I seen stories that show the actual work required to rebuild those relationships in a realistic or meaningful way. So rarely do stories trying to build that happy ending actually let the victim of abuse set and maintain boundaries. The character never gets to actually just cut the damn ties to the thing that hurt them. The character so rarely even gets to be safe.
And it's so hard in this game specifically, because "THERE IS NO ESCAPE", because every single thing about this game says that the story's not over when Zagreus gets to the surface, that no matter what he's going to have to come back. It's so hard, because this is a game about reunions. I am not going to get an ending where the abused kid trying to flee his toxic home and abusive dad actually gets to leave and stay gone, not in this one. And that hurts (I have watched and supported and done my best to help multiple real-life friends get the fuck out of homes like that, and stay gone, I have seen how hard it is, how complicated, how awful, and there are never stories for that), but I can live with it, if I get an ending where Zagreus is at least safe. Where things change. Where they really change.
Which is why I need actual, concrete, material changes in the logistics and power structure of the Underworld for this ending to be okay. Understanding why Hades is Like That doesn't cut it. Remorse doesn't cut it! Because look, even if Hades wants to do better, even if he admits he's at fault and tries to be better, he is still set up in a position as an all-powerful tyrant, and trying to become a better person is hard. There is nobody around who can keep him in check when he starts backsliding, which he will. Even if he doesn't want to, he will.
Because people are people, and it's really difficult to break patterns! Especially if everything around them stays the same. Hades is going to slip at some point, be cruel, be callous, be tyrannical, no matter how much of an effort he's making. Not to mention, it is STRESSFUL to face your own crimes and improve, it sucks, it feels bad. And what do habitual abusers do when they feel bad? What's the only coping mechanism Hades appears to have established for dealing with his own shit? That's right, it's inflicting suffering on everyone else around him. (This is why it doesn't really matter what circumstances drove Hades to act this way, why it can't matter--I believe that he is suffering, but he copes with that suffering by inflicting additional suffering on everyone around him, everyone who relies on him, and that's still true no matter what made him feel bad to begin with.) So then we just get a great old guilt-->lashing out-->more guilt-->more lashing out merry-go-round of abuse even as Hades is trying to change. That's how these things work. And yes, change is possible, improvement is absolutely possible, but the environment needs to change first. The system that enables and rewards Hades for acting this way can't stay in place. Things need to actually change, with people who are around to support Hades in his growth and also check his power, people who have power of their own to stop him. And however it happens, for this story with this protagonist with these goals to feel like a happy ending, Zagreus needs to be safe.
It would be okay, though a little disappointing, if those changes were mostly based in magic and fate and, idk, divine mind-control. (This story has been so grounded in actual human dynamics that a fantastical solution to a realistic problem would feel like a letdown, but if it actually solved the problem I'd be okay with it, more or less.) It would be okay, though a little disappointing, if the responsibility for bringing Hades to heel fell upon Zagreus and Persephone, if the two family members who he hurt badly enough that they felt the need to run away from him entirely now had to shoulder the burden of helping him fix himself. (There are definitely ways to write that dynamic better and ways to write it worse, and I think I trust these writers to land on the 'better' side of the scale, but I still don't love the implications.) I think I'd be pretty into it if Hades took a vacation off to Olympus to Work Out His Shit with his own family, while a coalition of Meg, Nyx, Thanatos, Zagreus, and Queen Persephone took over running the Underworld in his absence. I think we might end up getting some combination of those things. I'm hopeful. I think these writers might know what they've written. I think they might have a sense for what it'll take to fix.
But yeah, I'm nervous. (Nervous enough that I might switch to God Mode just to get through, combat has started getting really tedious instead of fun, I want to know what happens next, and this is a game and there is no shame in making it more fun for myself by making the boring parts a little quicker and easier.) I've seen so many stories go wrong. This one has done so much to earn my trust. We'll see if it breaks.
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mittensmorgul · 4 years ago
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don’t mind me just watching 11.10 which is arguably the first episode of dabb era since this was penned by him as he took over the plot arc from carver and set the stage for his first season finale and the arcs of rowena and castiel began a long series of parallels where they’re both coming from entirely different ends of the spectrum but were both used horrifically in the name of power-- rowena’s in protecting herself and cas’s in protecting the people he loved-- and the choices they made in the name of that protection just went horribly horrifically wrong in every way, and dabb founded these two narrative arcs in the fact that cas did everything for love and put these words in rowena’s mouth about hate:
Rowena: I hate you, because when I look into your eyes I see the woman I used to be, before magic, before the coven. When I was nothing but Rowena, the tanner's daughter. A pale, scared little girl, who smelled of filth and death. I hate you, because when you were born, your father said he loved me. Then he went back to his grand wife and his grand house, whilst I lay pathetic and half dead on a straw mat, my thighs slick with blood. I hate you, because if I didn't, I'd love you. But love, love is weakness. And I'll never be weak again.
and yet hate WAS the weakness and true love isn’t a one way street but that being loved IN RETURN was the key all along and that’s honestly what all these characters up to and including chuck and amara actually needed though chuck was functionally incapable of it and that’s why his story sucked which we will learn IN DETAIL in s15, but for now the next three episodes of spn will detail three important facets of love
first we learn of romantic love and the torment of “heartbreak” as a concept and the introduction of Eileen to Sam’s life despite the fact that she will return only to die and be taken from him tragically before they could truly explore that potential for love in an episode where Dean confesses his fear of the strange warped attraction Amara forces on him to Cas but it’s not really Cas and Dean is so messed up he can’t figure out why Cas seemed “off” yet.... 
then we learn about familial love and what makes a family, and get proof it’s literally not blood in any sense of the word, it’s the people we choose of our free will and without the bonds of blood (vampiric or genetic), and our choices are most important in building a full life with happiness and freedom
then we learn about toxic obsessive love that isn’t really love at all but a walking talking mockery of love that will destroy everyone involved in perpetuating it symbolized by dean nearly being killed by a fake version of amara and finally understanding that this is the sort of love that amara seeks from him...
and then we have dean spending the rest of the season with one singular goal of freeing cas from his own bad decision because... 
and rowena returning from the dead and seeking out power and protection from amara only to begin to understand that power can’t protect her and will never protect her, and hate is maybe not enough to protect her either...
the rest of dabb era continues to hammer these themes home to us and then after Chuck is defeated and love is finally allowed to win.... ???????? the story that Chuck never intended to “write,” the one about love in all its forms, because Chuck never actually understood love at all, also fails to survive Chuck’s downfall at the very moment it actually had a chance to be freed from the depressing narrative in which it had flourished despite all odds stacked against it, and despite Chuck actively trying to murder it at every turn for the purposes of his characters’ suffering... like... so what was even the point of any of it in the end? Tell a story about love growing through every crack of the story while the author desperately tries to pave it all over, and then not let love and humanity and life truly win... wow, that’s honestly the least believable series of events in the history of ever
okay got it out of my system and am fully and cheerfully able to throw the finale in the trash yet again. hooray!
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uomo-accattivante · 4 years ago
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Great comprehensive interview with Elvira on the making of The Letter Room and filmmaking, in general. One interesting tidbit mentioned: she is currently developing a podcast about sex. đŸ‘€đŸ€”
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For most of her creative life, Elvira Lind has been behind the the lens compassionately capturing true stories as a documentary filmmaker. Her debut feature, Songs for Alexis, observes two young lovebirds navigating a long distance relationship and challenging views on gender identity in the modern age. While her sophomore feature, Bobbi Jenne, explores the life of a famous dancer fighting for her own creative and personal independence.
Despite her prolific doc work, a story that couldn't simply be told in its raw form kept circulating in her head: a dark prison comedy about the secret life of a correctional officer trying to bring humanity to the prison system. When he gets transferred to a job in the letter room, he finds himself a little too involved in the private lives of the inmates.
Far along in her second pregnancy, and with the support of an incredible team of collaborators, Elvira took on the challenge of writing and directing her first narrative short, "The Letter Room." The film stars Oscar Isaac and Alia Shawkat, and has had an all-star festival run, screening at Telluride, Tribeca, and the Palm Springs International Film Festival. Here, Elvira reflects on the joys and challenges of creating your first short film—putting empathy first, reshaping the tropes around pregnancy, and screening in the COVID era.
vimeo
FTW: How did you become a filmmaker?
Elvira Lind: I’ve always loved film. I was very drawn to documentaries because it felt like you were entering something that was really happening. You opened a door and were already inside the film. You’re just trying to keep up with what’s being thrown at you. As opposed to fiction where you have to conjure it up from nowhere. I loved imagining and writing stories when I was little, but I didn’t have the confidence to pursue it.
I didn’t come from a family of filmmakers. And I came from a time when people had a little shitty camcorder that you borrowed from someone’s uncle, and buying film was expensive. Things opened up and changed a lot when cameras became more accessible.
I could only afford one year of film school in Cape Town, where I met some amazing people and learned about so many different ways of storytelling. I came back to Denmark and found myself working for free a lot for other filmmakers while doing a side job. The paid work was very hard to get, but I’d rather work for free with filmmakers that I loved and have more responsibilities than have access to nothing. It wasn’t easy to find my way in, but it’s so worth it. 
And now you live in New York. How does this global background affect your general filmmaking style and approach?
I definitely bring a lot of Danish documentary traditions with me and hold it very dear. There are a lot of kick ass female documentary filmmakers in Denmark that have taught me a lot. There’s a good support system for women there. It’s an incredibly privileged place in that there’s funding from the government to make films. You can make things that, in my opinion, are often far more interesting because it’s not reliant on how it’s going to make money in the box office.
You’ve shot many of your documentaries in the past. So what was it like this time to be working with a cinematographer?
I always wanted to work with a cinematographer on my documentaries; we just couldn’t afford it. Now for “The Letter Room”, I worked with Sam Chase, who has got such a brilliant eye and it was wonderful to have someone to work with on composing the look of the film because I’m usually doing it by myself. It is kind of like a marriage. I work with the same editor on all my projects as well. You enter this symbiotic sort of dance together. For me, it also means you have to fight about things and disagree and then make up and hear each other out. My editor, Adam Nielsen, is the kind of guy who just comes up with genius ideas while in the shower or on the way home from work on his bicycle. You have to find these key people in your life where you can bounce ideas back and forth with.
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Where did the idea for “The Letter Room” come from?
It was a story that was brewing in my head for a long time, but I wasn’t sure how to put a narrative film together. I just started to write it down and then it kept developing.
There was a podcast that I listened to that really inspired me. It told the story of different men who were all unknowingly writing love letters to the same woman. She started to ask for money and help with rent, but the letters she wrote were so wonderful and all these men were very in love with her. These very lonely men felt like magic had entered their lives. They all eventually found out that the woman was actually a man writing to different people trying to get their money. They were all heartbroken, but one of the men said that the worst part was losing these letters and that the fantasy was gone. He wished they could just keep writing to each other. So much of life is fantasy and trying to live through other people’s lives. I’m very drawn to stories of loneliness and bottled up feelings.
And then I am firmly against the American prison system. It’s heartbreaking, frustrating, and I can’t make sense of it. How do you even begin to explain this system to a child?
It’s a society that doesn’t care about humanity. I wanted to show the monotony, the repetition, the sadness. I don’t see the bigger goal or purpose of locking people away for countless years  and taking away all the things that makes you feel human, that makes life joyous. I really believe that we can all change and this system teaches people nothing. “The Letter Room'' is the combination of these two concepts that I’m very passionate about.
And then I got pregnant for the second time and I hadn’t made a film between the two. It was a crazy feeling to be taken over again by pregnancy. A wonderful friend of mine, Sofia Sondervan-Bild, came to me and said, “I think you should make this film and I’ll make it with you.” Initially, I freaked out and thought I didn’t know how to do fiction and doubted how I could make a film in a prison, but she inspired me and told me to do it. She’s just one of these incredibly powerful people that you want to go on an adventure with. She made me feel like my pregnancy wasn’t going to stand in the way of me making this film. We ended up shooting while I was far along in my pregnancy in a prison in the middle of a summer heat wave. It was crazy, but it was the best thing that I could’ve done at the time.
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When you were directing on set at that stage of pregnancy, did you feel like you were reshaping tropes of what women are capable of? 
It was insane. The funny thing was that the crew was like, “we can’t complain that we are tired because she is extremely pregnant and still running around.” I was so high off of that experience. When we finished, I collapsed. I fell straight onto the couch and then I have a two and a half year old screaming my name. That was more work for me than directing the short. I edited the film right before I gave birth actually, and then I gave birth and did sound right after. I was pumping breast milk in the corner in the darkness during the sound edit.
I’ve learned a lot from surpassing whatever I thought was physically possible with being pregnant. I learned that being in a creative process gives you so much energy that it allows you to be in whatever shape, size, form, mental space you can. People are ready to give you their support, if you choose the right people. I’m really grateful that I chose such wonderful collaborators who supported me through it all. Even when people were questioning my choice to direct a film while being pregnant in a prison. Why not? Women get pregnant and then we still need to be supported so that we can continue to make the things we want to do.
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What was your experience with getting “The Letter Room” funded?
It’s really hard, let’s be honest. There aren’t a lot of people sitting around waiting to fund a short film. We ended up working with Topic, which is a part of First Look Media. They are just incredible and really support filmmakers with whatever their vision is. I’ve had great experiences and some really bad experiences with funding, so I know this was an ideal scenario.
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Having a short that is over 30 minutes long seems like a feat. At what stage in the process did you know this was going to be a longer piece? And how did that decision affect the shoot in both positive and difficult ways?
It was way too long at first, and when I shortened it, it was still 32 minutes. We could only afford five days of shooting, and a lot of it is shot on active prison grounds, which have an insane amount of protocol. We almost used everything we shot.
I’m not used to being able to have different angles to choose from in my doc work, so I think I just knew exactly what I wanted. I know that my producers were worried that I wasn’t getting enough, but to me, I was like, I’m getting double of what I usually get on a documentary! Everyone was quietly concerned, but everything worked out when we got to the edit.
The short’s length hasn’t done any favors for me so far, but you need to breathe as an audience, you need to pace it out. If I cut out certain minutes, it would’ve felt rushed and you wouldn’t have believed the arcs that the characters had.
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I loved the concept of placing a very empathetic character in a setting that is contrary to that personality type. You included so many details that made the world feel so three dimensional and cared for. Can you talk about those decisions to create that feeling?
It means so much to me that it made you feel that way. What frustrates me about the prison system is that it lacks any empathy or understanding of human nature and nurture and who we are. What we need to become better people. It takes all of that away.
I spoke to people who have spent a lot of time in prison and they told me that you have to hide your feelings and that showing any signs of weakness will be a disaster. It’s the worst possible scenario you can imagine yourself in. Being robbed of every privacy, anything that makes you happy, anything that makes you feel like yourself. I imagined the character of a caregiver in this setting who wants to help and finds a silly way to do so. I was very inspired by that story of the love letters that I talked about earlier. What does it mean to lie if you’re making someone else happy?
It’s the morning of your first day of the shoot — how do you feel?
I was very nervous. I had never said ‘action’ before. I’ve been on a lot of sets, but I didn’t want to seem like I didn’t know what I was doing, but it’s also okay not to know. Mistakes are going to happen, and sometimes they become gifts. At the same time, I was very excited. You come in and there are all these people there with you who are there to make this thing you’ve written come to life.
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What are some things you would do on set to create a safe space and vulnerable environment?
We did everything we could to make the set a safe space. It was very difficult and stressful to shoot in an active prison, but we made sure to actively ask our crew if everyone’s feeling okay and if we can do anything to make the situation better. I’m very vulnerable and encourage all of my crew to be vulnerable with me. Mistakes are welcome.
It's a short film, people come and work on this not because they’re making a million dollars, but because they want to be there and are being incredibly generous with their time and energy. It was such a good environment that even when challenging things came up, it was still a lot of fun.
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What was it like working with actors for the first time?
That was one of the biggest challenges for me. I’ve heard so many different stories in passing of the least helpful note or worst thing to say to an actor. You want to be respectful and actors have their way of working. Ultimately, they are all really talented actors and all of them came with so much energy and a lot of ideas.
I spent time with each of them talking about their character. Those 1 on 1 conversations helped me a lot in the writing process as well because you’re bouncing ideas off of each other and they’re asking you questions about how they would respond to a certain situation.
I had always imagined Alia Shawkat as Rosita and she ended up wanting to do it and came from LA to film it. I had tears in my eyes when we were filming the scene of her and Oscar. They were excited to do the scene together. It was all a dream.
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What was the experience of working creatively alongside your partner like?
We were joking a lot about it before because there was already the stress of being so pregnant and we have a 2 year old at home, and now I was putting us in another highly intense and demanding situation. Either it was going to be great OR we would drive each other nuts. But we had so much fun. It was wonderful to work together. I was so happy to be on set and make my film and he’s just so talented and fun to be around. Those little moments where you know each other so well—I’d give him notes and he just kept surprising me and was so respectful of my directions.
He found this photo for him to connect to the character and it became very fundamental to me. It was this incredible black and white photo from the 70s of a prison guard. I had always imagined that he would have this inner salsa soundtrack playing in his soul and we would play Rubén Blades and 70s salsa music and Oscar just morphed that into music into everything and created this unique character. 
And he was wearing a fat suit the entire shoot and I was pregnant and Alia Shawkat had her pregnant belly on. The three of us—it was so funny.
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It seems like the perfect first experience of going into narrative with people that you really trust and support you.
Definitely! Find the people that you can team up with that really believe in your vision and who will push you to do exactly what you had in mind. People who never try to push you into these conventional routes. Our creative voices are so fragile. You want to be on the same page so that they see what you’re trying to do and want to bring that out of you. Where they’re treating your film as a sacred thing that you’re creating together.
How do you know when a film is done?
Fiction is very different from documentaries. With documentaries, it never feels like it’s done because there are so many options. That’s also why I love fiction so much; It’s so much faster. It’s a whole different beast to tame a documentary with hundreds of hours of footage where you’re reinventing the wheel every day.
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How have you built up your own confidence as a director and your unique voice?
Stubbornness. I’ve had many experiences working with people who didn’t believe in my project. You have to stick to your guns and trust your instincts. Once you find your voice, you find people that want to go on that ride with you and find your vision interesting. It’s a miracle when any of us gets a project made, so your confidence can’t come from how much money your movie made. It has to come from somewhere else. Did you do justice to the people you portrayed in your story? Did anyone walk away feeling like something had changed within them?
What is a good director to you?
Someone who is driven with passion without letting that passion take over and become any source of frustration that’s taken out on other people. It should feel like a collaborative effort. And having gratitude every day that you’re making something with other people who are donating their time. You’d be nowhere without them. One of the most important things is making sure that your crew is treating everyone equally. It depends on the size of the production, but having someone who can sense what’s happening in all different departments and having department heads that are there to protect everyone. Listen to each other, and make sure everyone feels safe and is in the best place to be creative.
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With COVID, what has the adjustment been like to being in an online space for this festival run? 
I’m really deeply saddened by not having the human interaction aspect of it. It feels so crucial to be in the room together, to meet and see each other's projects and share the experience, to cry and laugh next to people you don’t know. I’m grieving to be honest. We just gotta get through this time. It reminds us of how sacred it is for us to gather and how that feels, and I hope that all of that will come back after this and that cinemas will survive. We really need them.
What’s next for you?
Right now I’m writing more fiction and working on a new documentary feature that I am kind of researching and shooting at the same time. I am also creating a podcast about sex, called “The List” with my friend, writer and photographer Kirra Cheers, based on a book and play she wrote. My husband and I just started a production company together, Mad Gene Media, in order to develop and produce our own material. So. lots of exciting things to continue with in the new year.
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Born in 1981 in Copenhagen, Elvira Lind graduated from School of Media and Creative Arts in Cape Town in 2006 majoring in documentary film where she received two awards for her final year achievements. She has worked within that field since directing and shooting documentaries of various lengths for TV, cinema and web on 4 different continents.​In 2020 she premiered her first fiction project, a 32 min short film she wrote and directed. The film was sold to Topic and was invited to various festivals including Telluride and Tribeca FF. Elvira's feature doc BOBBI JENE premiered at Tribeca Film Festival in 2017 where it won all awards in its category including Best Feature documentary, best editing and best Cinematography. The film had theatrical release in US, Spain and Scandinavia.​Elvira's first documentary feature Songs for Alexis premiered at Toronto HOT DOCS in 2014 and screened and competed at a long list of international festivals. Her 8 part documentary TV series "Twiz and Tuck" was bought by VICELAND and launched in 2017. Elvira now lives and works out of New York.
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kyoupann · 4 years ago
Note
Please do more of the writing head canons. It’s really interesting to see other people’s ideas on the topic, so if you can be bothered, I would highly appreciate more, thanks bye <3
Y’all don’t know how happy I am to talk about these headcanons, they are my babies and I love them so much :’) thanks for asking g <3
Handwriting Headcanons
Same dynamic as before, try to guess whose handwriting it is before reading and tell me how many you got right! <3
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You can find the first post here (no need to check it tho)
Quick disclaimer: halfway through making my initial notes, I remembered I had one (1) single lesson of graphology in my applied linguistics class, but that was a year ago and some information might be off. I just thought it was neat to include.
Another quick disclaimer: I don’t know much about Hylian, but I like to think it has a similar stroke system to Japanese, so the pressure and accuracy of your strokes play a major role in your handwriting (among other things, ofc.) so there are some parts where I focus more on that
(First Row, from left to right)
Sky
Our first boy is mother hen! Believe it or not, he has the prettiest handwriting out of all of them! Sky: probably has nice, even elegant handwriting because Sun forced him to practice when they were little. In the end, that paid off because his handwriting is the prettiest one. There’s no pressure, but he is confident in what he writes that his lines aren’t thin. Mistakes? what is that? this boy has impeccable grammar and spelling. No mechanic errors to be found in his letters! I’d like to think that many of Hyrule’s classic/staple poems were originally written by the firt king aka sky child. Like, imagine, after a retiring from being a Person of Power (as the first ruler), Sky finds comfort in the arts: revisits his old woodcarvings and starts writing poetry about the world he still doesn’t fully understand. wowie. tldr: sky writes poetry and you can pry it from my cold dead hands.
This is what one of his letters would look like: 
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Next one is the one and only, our Hero of Time
2. Time
I’ll die on the “Time didn’t know how to read and write” hill. His handwriting is simple, not pretty but not messy. It has some grammar and spelling mistakes here and there. Can become unreadable if writing in a hurry, he sorts of forgets spaces between words are a thing/letters have different sizes and lowercase letters end up the same size as capital letters. I’m not saying he sometimes forgets to write articles: he just doesn’t want to. Honestly, he just has this dad-neat handwriting. He is a gentle dad and writes like a dad, if he puts too much pressure onto the paper, his handwriting become too sharp/angle-ish and ends up looking ugly. And as much as he would like to not care about it, in the end he does (:
Malon taught him how to write and it was quite the experience. At first he didn’t want to because he was ‘too old’ to learn and it was torture at first, but now look at him devouring his cowboy novels. 
A chunk of his handwriting: 
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*sniff* such a dad quote.
3. my mansss, your  4x1 deal at Target: Four
Look, my boy is patient! He could do some nice and fancy lettering if he wanted to. He was taught that handwriting and spelling said a whole lot about him as a person, you know, like a first impression kinda thing; so he always proof reads more than twice before sending ­a letter. Super rare grammar mistakes.
The faster he writes, the more slant his writing becomes. Under stress/ when not sure how to write things down, run-on sentences are everywhere and his handwriting is inconsistent in general (I don’t headcanon each part of him having completely different handwriting because handwriting becomes muscle memory over time. It’s just slightly different variations of the same, like idk  Vio’s handwriting is neater than Green’s and Red writes hearts instead of any dot/circle and no, I do not take constructive criticism on that, jk i do.) Adding on to each of the colours’ handwriting, I’d think Red and Green write with words slanted to the right( inclined), Vio is a mix of the opposite, so reclined and straight, and my mans blue a true neutral writes straight (kinda like Time’s).
The logic behind this is that inclined writing supposedly means honesty and need for giving (and getting) affection; reclined means, as you can probably imagine,  defensiveness and repression of true feelings, but also shows great concentration; straight handwriting means self-control, observation and reflection as well as distrust and indifference. But as complete being (tm), Four just writes as in the image example which is not too straight and not too inclined, and I believe that’s a good middle for him
HOWEVER, if I’m feeling in the mood for crack, I totally accept this boy to have the ugliest, chicken scratches-looking handwriting! :’D It’s just funny to think that someone like him, who has to be precise and careful in his work, can't write neatly to save his life. 
One of his letters would look like this: 
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Also I just LOVE how his hero titles look in this font ksksks
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and that’s
(Middle row, from left to right)
4.- Mister Bunny Boy - Legend
His uncle taught him how to write. I’d call his handwriting pretty and neat at a first glance, but he presses too hard on the paper, most of the time staining the back or the following page. Sometimes will retrace some words if he doesn’t like how it looks (which only makes it messier). According to my notes, a thick or strong handwriting represents determination/commitment.
As I also headcanon him to know many languages, mechanical errors are more present than grammar ones; that is, weird capitalisation of words. Punctuation is somewhere in between; uses too many commas when he should just cut the sentence. he mixes punctuation from two languages or more in writing when too distracted (or too focused, because, well, pressure.); when he writes for himself, he has almost no problem following said language’s punctuation rules. Also, this is just polyglot culture, and I’m projecting a bit, but when he forgets a word in the language he’s writing, he just replaces it with its equivalent in another language because we don’t care about fluency, but rather functionality. in this household (more on that in my language hc, ksksks).
An example of his writing:
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so powerful
4.-  Mr. Wolfman, howl me a song - Twilight
I don’t have much for him because 1) I don’t think he writes a lot and 2) he is a hands-on/visual learner, I’ll die by that. He only learnt how to write because Ulli insisted it was important and he was not about to disrespect his momma; he IS That Guy, but doesn’t really write enough to have neat handwriting.
Many people seem to overlook the fact that his house is filled with books and write him as completely illiterate (which if not explored properly, ends up feeling a bit disrespectful and full of prejudice, but go off I guess; and that’s on my core Headcanons for Twi); however, he sticks to simple sentences. Knowing how to read and understanding a text is different from knowing how to write them. Like, when we would see a semicolon and understand its position in the text, but didn’t understand the nature of it. Is this clear? idk i’m sorry. So yeah, boy reads a lot, writes very little.
As for his Actual Handwriting, as opposed to Legend, his handwriting is thiccc but not because he presses into the paper; he is just that messy, he has no sense of ink-flow-control, he does what he can with what he has. To the untrained eye, his handwriting illegible letters like v, n, u are very similar; when he makes notes for himself he does it in the form of doodles or small ‘icons’. But! He reads a lot, so he rarely makes spelling mistakes (: he is your go-to guy when you don’t know how to write a word.
An example of his writing:
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He keeps a journal, sue me.
3. My first born- Warrior
Okay, first off... I accept this is completely biased. I saw the idea and said “That’s True”. If you haven’t, please read Effective Communication; or The Lack of Thereof by htruona, a fic where the boys reflect on the language barriers between them. It’s incredibly funny and probably what made me start making these silly notes. So, if you’ve read that fic, you know where I’m going.
My man, Warrior, can’t fucking write. I mean, he physically can, but it’s very bad. Here’s the reason for it, tho, and it’s not his fault: Technically, he knew how to write alright but he joined the military and whatever note he had to write had to be concise or in the worst case coded. He mixes capital and lowercase letters. If we consider that he joined the military at around 15, his handwriting and grammar had yet to continue developing. Just think about how after summer break, your handwriting was always slightly worse than before because you didn’t write for an entire month. Now think what 2 years can do to that. Hmm, not cool, dude. He makes quick notes, when writing he’s all gotta go fast. he is the lighting mcqueen of writing; good for emergency messages, not ideal for love letters. His punctuation also suffered a lot, he only know full stops and commas and hardly uses them. A sentence for him is either one word or fifty without a single comma, no inbetween.
His hero title and an example of his writing.
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(Bottom row, or what I like to call “fuck cursive” row)
7.- Magic man - Hyrule
I’m basic and I do agree with the popular headcanon of he not knowing how to write because well, y’all know his Hyrule. He only knows how to write his name because that’s important, same with numbers. I don’t see why would he write/read except checking the roadsigns. (he can even use this as an excuse for getting lost frequently; he thought it said something different.) But I do think that because his habitual reading consists of roadsigns, his ‘punctuation’ is weird af and places full stops/points/periods at the same level of his words and his commas/question/exclamation marks below them. Yk, creative license. Sadly, I don’t have much about my magic hands man so here’s what his writing would look like if he actually wrote a paragraph:
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Man, I love Hyrule.
8.- Man, I don’t understand this boy -  Wild
Cursive? ain’t nobody have the time for that. He woke up and had to save the world in his underwear while not knowing how to read nor write.  He learnt during his journey and was taught by multiple people from different regions, that explains his inconsistent spelling of things and names for them. So Wild knows language variations for many items and uses them interchangeably (even if they aren’t exactly the same). Another headcanon related to writing/language skills that I’ve been thinking about is that if the shrine was able to cause amnesia, I’m sure there were other areas in the brain affected which leads us to language disorders such as agraphia and aphasia. But that’s a story for another day ksksksk
An example of his writing (after relearning)
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9.- The best of sons - Wind
I don’t have much for him and that makes me sad. Look, he’s a kid, doing kid things like stabbing dudes on the head. This boy was taught cursive by his grandma, but could never do it and no one needs it anyway. His handwriting is good enough for his pirate life, Tetra is the one to handle Official stuff, he just gotta sign. Spelling and grammar mistakes abound. He is still relatively young and can correct his handwriting if he desires. But same as Wild, with how many times he’s been thrown out and hit his head, I’m starting to consider some language disorder for him as well.
An example of his writing:
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aaand that’s it.
Thanks, y’all for showing interest in this silly thing uwu it was fun to finally talk about this. If you ever want to discuss ideas/headcanons(especially if they are related to language and culture), I’m your person (: I’m always happy to hear new headcanons. Feel free to add anything to this post either in a reply or in a reblog, I’d love to hear from y’all <3<3
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realityhelixcreates · 4 years ago
Text
Beta, Theta, and Me Chapter 10: Territorial
Chapters: 10/?
Fandom: Thor (Movies), Avengers (Movies) Marvel Cinematic Universe
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Relationships: Loki x Reader (But not right now),Drug Use
Characters:  Loki(Marvel) Additional Tags:  A/B/O, Sorta, More Of An Exploration Of  Life And Self Expression Within An A/B/O Framework, Loki Does What He Wants, But Loki Does Not Actually Do What He Wants, Antagonistic Bosses,  Loki Has A Throne Now, But It’s Not What He Wanted
Summary: You learn the reality of not being alone in the universe
You hunkered down in your soft, fold-out futon couch, shaken by what you now knew.
They were invaders. Loki, Thor, all  the Asgardians, an invading force.
But they weren't invading this planet.
You didn't think you'd ever forget the blazing triumph in Loki's eyes, as he explained the plan. He might as well explain it to you. There was nothing you could do about it. There was nothing you would do about it. And Loki knew it.
Rain slammed into the glass like stones, flung by screaming wind. It had been pouring all day, even before you'd served Loki his breakfast.
“Did someone piss off your brother or what?” you joked. Loki swiftly grasped your hand before you could crush his pill for the morning.
“Yes, and I would have my mind clear when he comes to visit. I will bear the pain until afterwards.”
Thunder cracked the personable atmosphere of breakfast.
“You should retire to your rooms for a while.” Loki said. So you gathered up what was left of your meal and returned to your apartment. You had a nice little table in front of a window, where you sat with your orange juice and pancakes, watching the sheeting rain.
The sound of the Bifrost roared down louder than the rain. Thor had come by to discuss things with Loki several times now, you hiding out in your room each time. You weren't sure why you were never allowed to be seen-perhaps servants in Asgard were supposed to be invisible or something. Or perhaps Loki wasn't actually supposed to have you. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time you were living somewhere illegally.
The two of them talked very loudly, almost shouting, but it didn't sound like a fight. It sounded more like enthusiasm, rising and falling, the foreign words and unfamiliar cadence. Thor stayed for several hours, keeping up their lively discussion, but you didn't once hear either of them laugh. Whatever their enthusiasm was about, it probably wasn't a cheerful thing.
You relaxed in your apartment, reading a battered old book while they hashed out whatever they were working on, making yourself a light lunch while the rain weakened and petered out. The Bifrost roared again, just as the sun struggled out of the clouds.
Not long after, you heard Loki calling for you, always as if he were right beside you. He was waiting at the table when you exited back out into his miniature kingdom, eyes bright with the exercise of thought. He waited patiently while you prepared fresh tea for him, and mixed it with his medicine, drinking it without complaint. Thor's Alpha scent hung around the place, somehow harsher than Loki's. You were tempted to dampen it with a scented spray, but you knew Loki didn't like them. 'Stinking, chemical concoctions' he called them.
You did chores around the penthouse, as he went over the contents of a notebook. You knew his medicine was taking effect when he suddenly started talking.
“How do you feel about this building?” he asked abruptly, shoving the notebook at you.
“How do I feel about it? Uh, well, let me see.” You took the notebook, full of runes and sketches. The sketch of the house Loki indicated appeared to you like a man-made hill, a cluster of little domes around a large dome, with no windows but several doors. It had a vintage science fiction kind of look, as if someone had designed a Hobbit hole for the far future.
“It's cute.” you said. “Looks like some kind of earth house?”
“Not quite.” he said, smug amusement coloring his voice. “Would you live in such a house?”
“Sure, I'd live in any kind of house. A house is a house, and I'm never gonna be picky about that. I do wonder about the inside lighting, since there's no windows.” “Oh, it would be lit by magic. Magic light it so easy to make that many forms of magic create light as a by-product! It would be bright as day on the inside. There could be no windows, because the structure would be partially underground, and the outside walls would be about nine feet thick.”
“Wow. I knew earthworks need thick walls, but that seems like kind of a lot.”
“But would you still live in such a home?”
“Well yeah. Still a house, after all. Look, I know you're high as a kite right now, but this is about something, isn't it? Is it what Thor was here to talk about?” “Insolent thing. I'm not that high. Am I? No, of course not. But yes, this is about our meeting this morning. Twice has my brother come bearing distressing news about the future of Asgard, and this time, we began planning. These houses are a part of it.”
“Is something wrong with Asgard? Are you guys gonna be okay?”
“Oh yes, we will be fine. I foresaw something like this happening, and my brother's pride is sorely bruised, but our people are in no danger. You see, the government of Canada set aside some land for Asgard to settle upon-a handful of islands off the coast of the larger island of Nova Scotia. This seemed quite generous at first, and quite in line with the kindliness that country is famed for. I could have told Thor that it would prove somehow false. If not humanity itself, then the governing bodies of humanity certainly are the least trustworthy things in this whole great galaxy.”
“What did they do?” you asked. “Are they trying to bilk you? Make you pay for it all? Force you into debt?”
“No, no. They gave us the land so that the native peoples they stole it from could never get it back. Settler's laws, or some such.”
“That's awful!” The disillusionment led straight to disgust, and no small amount of disappointment. Because Canada did seem so nice, and maybe it was just a form of American wish fulfillment to believe that Canada was somehow 'better' than the States. But realistically, both countries had been formed in the same way: European settlers sweeping from one coast to the other. And the only way it seemed that they knew how to do that was to smash their way through whoever was between the Here, and the There.
“Indeed.” Loki sneered. “Thor is enraged at the sheer ingratitude. Many times he has been involved in the protection of your backwater globe, and these fools seek to use him as a pawn. I may occasionally want to stab his face off, but he is still a god, and we are all of us above the petty greed and power games that humans play against one another.”
“What are you going to do?”
“It's very simple. We are going to secure the land, build a legal cage so tight that it cannot be taken away, make it ours completely, and without question. Then, when we have gathered the necessary supplies, we will turn the land over to the people it was stolen from, and Asgard will leave. We will invite them to live among us in the interim, and likely leave a small garrison behind to guard against Canadian invasion.”
“Ha!” you burst out. “Good! Fuck those guys! But where is Asgard going to go then? I can't think of anyplace that isn't already full of people. Except maybe Antarctica? It'd be pretty hard to live there though.”
“Asgard has the technology to make practically any rock a paradise.” Loki bragged. “But we will not be moving to Antarctica, no. We will not remain on Earth. No, Earth had it's chance, and chose betrayal. We will be moving to the planet you call Mars.”
“What? Mars? Like Mars, Mars?” you sat, shocked, the notebook in your lap. “You can't just...”
Loki silenced you with a thin, smug smile.
“Whyever not?” he asked. “Who lives there? What lives there? Nothing, and no one. We would not be pushing anybody out of their homelands, nor posing a danger to any ecosystem. There is nothing there but remote controlled toys. No one has claim over it. I know there is at least one fool who fancies himself a genius, and has convinced many that he owns the place, but how is he going to get there? In one of his constantly exploding vehicles? No, Earth has no power over Mars, and soon it will be ours. We are the ones who can make it a livable land. Humans simply don't have the technology or experience. Can you harness Bifrost energy to get the core and mantle moving again, to create a magnetic field? You do not. Can you live safely on the surface for long enough to get anything done? You cannot. In fact, for humans to be safe on Mars, you would have to hide behind around nine feet of Martian soil.”
“Nine-like the house? That design is for a Mars house?”
“Clever thing. Yes, it is for a Mars house. Part of a community partially above and partially below ground, connected by buried roadways. A city adapted to the planets unique characteristics. We will alter the landscape, reignite the magnetic field, cleanse the soil of radiation, perhaps use that as a secondary energy source for a while. The planet is rich in water: this whole system is so rich in resources that it would absolutely be under attack at all times if more people knew about it.
But you have us now. We know how to render empty planets useful. Once we have made Mars into our new Asgard, we will turn our eyes to the great potential of the one you call Venus.”
“You're gonna take Venus too?” you exclaimed.
“Take? Again, who owns it? No one. There is no one to take it from. Imagine thinking that just because you see something, just because you name it, that somehow means you own it. No one lives there, and there are no habitats to destroy, so why does this offend you so?”
You couldn't really answer. Everything he had said was true. And yet, you still somehow felt a sort of proprietary nebulous collective ownership over the planetary system that was your species only home.
“Do you feel entitled to the asteroids as well? The comets? The moons and atmospheres of the giant planets? The very dust of the stellar cloud? Your species once shared this backwater world with multiple other human species, but now that you are the only ones left, you've forgotten how to share with anyone.”
“Is it sharing? You can travel around better than we can. Will there be anything left by the time we're able to travel like you?”
He chuckled, the condescension like a thick layer of butter over bread.
“Oh, I understand now. You're so used to the overarching greed and cruelty of your own people, that you can't imagine that we could be any different. We aren't going to lock you little humans away from Mars, or Venus, or any other place. Indeed, why do you think we've been studying how thick a wall is needed for human safety on Mars? It is all but certain that humans and Asgardians will live side by side throughout this star system. You will join us sooner or later. It is inevitable. The instant the perceived challenge is issued, your desiccated space programs will flare back to life. You humans are incredibly competitive, though in a different way than Asgardians. We are more individual, but you drift towards teams. It will be interesting to see how the competition plays out.”
“You're looking forward to this?” you asked.
“I am counting on it.” he said. “Now, do you think that house would be big enough for you? It will be roughly three times the size of your current apartment, and partially underground. Would that bother you? Would you need more space?”
The notebook slipped to the floor. “You can't mean...” you whispered.
“Give it some thought. It won't be for a while yet, but I'm pretty sure it will be within your lifetime. Would you like to be the first human on Mars? Beat that so-called genius to the red planet? See us kickstart the world?”
It was a fantastic dream. Impossible. Completely impossible. But could you? “I-I don't know...”
“Think on it. But for now, I think this medicine is making me weary. I am losing track of time and thought. Take me to the window, and sit with me there.”
You did, making yourself comfortable on your special cushion, as he rambled about Asgardian building techniques, methods of energy storage, and how to contain oxygen in their hypothetical underground cities while working on building a sustainable atmosphere. He talked about Mars as if it were no more than a challenge, explaining all the resources that made the planet such a likely candidate for the transformation process. How they could alter the thin atmosphere with Thor's power to create ozone, split molecules to create oxygen, how to decontaminate irradiated soil, and even enrich it with naturally occurring resources. You didn't understand much of it, but the gist was that they had done this before, and only lacked the resources to build the tools they needed. As soon as they had that, there were no limits. According to Loki, it could all be done very fast.
And he was very fixated on the idea of you coming with him, seemed to have a very romanticized view of the human drive to explore. In some ways, he wasn't wrong. The thought of being the first human to travel to the red planet, to walk on its surface, to live there-it was thrilling. It was a dream humankind had harbored for a long time.
On the other hand, as far as you understood, Mars was kind of a shithole.
Yes, Loki claimed that his people could change that, prattling on about groves, and grasslands, and even tropics. He was also high. He could just as easily be talking nonsense.
Atmosphere notwithstanding, Mars was farther from the sun than Earth was. Wouldn't it always be colder? You could envision, after a lot of work and change, the planet hosting the kinds of things that grew in Siberia maybe. Lichens and short, scrubby grasses, possibly even conifers. Maybe seaweed, in the great seas and lakes he described the icecaps filling up.
But delicate tropical flowers, and big, soft fruits, and plants that needed three hundred days of strong sun and sweltering temperatures to thrive? No way. Better to leave the jungles to Venus.
Which was apparently part of the plan. The thinning of the atmosphere of Venus, would contribute to the thickening of the atmosphere of Mars. It involved even more technobabble that you couldn't grasp, but Loki was very sure about the viability of transferring resources throughout the solar system. From atmosphere, to water, to metals, to trace elements, Asgardians apparently knew how to do it all. It almost made you believe it.
Loki babbled like a bird all through dinner and the evening, and you were almost glad to be sent off the warm his bed. Your brain was exhausted, but he was as energetic as ever.
Stripped of your uniform, you snuggled into his luxurious bed, still trying to resolve the image of Loki-lover of opulent baths, rich clothing, and indulgent bedding-with that of an excited, daring, and rough living pioneer. You drifted off to a daydream of him, in a pith helmet and beige jodhpurs, standing majestically in a jeep that kicked up the Martian dust behind it...
                                                                               ******
...And awoke to Loki sniffing your hair.
He was pressed all alongside you, snuggled up with an arm thrown over your waist. And he was sniffing your hair.
He must have noticed a change in your breathing or physical pliancy, because he withdrew his arm immediately.
“Ah.” he whispered. “The jig is up, as they say.”
You scooted quickly away from him.
“What the hell do you think you're doing?” you demanded.
“Forgive me.” he said, yawning. “You just seemed so peaceful. I thought it a shame to wake you.”
“Did you turn off my alarm?”
He had the grace to look mildly ashamed.
“That...might have happened.”
“And there was nothing you could do but try to cop a feel?”
“I prefer to think of it as a friendly cuddle.”
“Well don't! Don't think you can just do whatever you want with me!”
“I shan't, I promise. As your master, I promise, I will not again overstep the bounds of our agreement. As my servant, I ask your trust.”
“...Maybe tomorrow.”
Face burning fiercely, you exited the bed, and hurried for the door. Your clothing was on the other side of the bed-the other side of Loki. In the dark, he might or might not getting a good look at your underwear clad rear, depending on how well Asgardians could see in the dark, so you booked it out of his room, across the hall, and into yours before he could say anything.
You threw yourself onto your futon, huddled down in your nice new blankets, and shivered. Your trust? He asked for your trust? He asked you to leave everything you knew, your whole world, to walk the distant sands of Mars? Something you couldn't even safely do until the planet had been transformed? He dared to lure you into a false sense of security in his sweet-smelling bed, and then ask for your trust? How much of your life were you willing to give?
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chancelloramidala · 4 years ago
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Across The Stars In A Galaxy Far Far Away ★ Star Wars & Marvel Crossover AU
TWO.
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Despite her Jedi training, Ahsoka couldn’t help but be have a child-like excitement of their surroundings. She sat in the window seat beside Anakin and pressed her face against the glass, staring at the big flashy lights and people they passed. From what she saw, Manhattan looked like a smaller version of Coruscant, and lacked the many, MANY, skyscrapers, flying speeders in the air, and alien species walking around. In fact, Ahsoka could only see the human species on the streets and in the cars they passed. Were there no other alien species on Earth? Was she the only alien species here?
PadmĂ©, who was on the other side of Anakin, grinned at Ahsoka’s visible enthusiasm and constant pointing at something new she didn’t recognize but thought it resembled something back home. She nodded along to the teenage Torguta’s animated hand movements and tried to answer as many questions as she could. But the Senator, once Queen, was equally as curious about this planet they were on as Padawan, but dimmed down a couple of notches.
Anakin on the other hand, didn’t like any of this. He was one to throw original plans out the window and improvise, but this was a completely different territory for the Jedi Knight. Hell, this was a completely different part of the galaxy that didn’t know anything about the Jedi or the Force.
Obi-Wan, who was sitting in the front seat with the chair slightly reclined backwards (not that Ahsoka was complaining), could sense his former student’s anxiety about their new environment. Their bond never diminished as time passed, but fortified and became a constant in their lives. He turned his head to look at Anakin and gave him a small smile, sending him soothing waves of warmth through their bond and then closed his eyes for a moment.
Rex was stuck in the back with Artoo, and even if the SUV was roomy, he did not like the tight space. It was different, nothing like a speeder or ship he’s been in. Even Artoo was quietly grumbling about how much he hated this stupid speeder because with each turn and stop, Rex had to outstretch his arm(s) to make sure the astromech droid didn’t topple over and hit Anakin in the back of his head.
Their driver, Clint, stared at the strange bunch. Now when he was expecting a couple of aliens that had kidnapped Peter, he was expecting something along the lines of the Chitauri that he faced all those years ago. But these aliens, weren’t anything like them. Most of them were human, the teenage girl though, she was definitely an alien, for she had orange skin, white face markings and something that resembled horns? She also didn’t have any hair, which wasn’t an issue for the man, but it was different than what he was used to seeing.
But then again, after joining S.H.I.E.L.D. and becoming an Avenger, normal wasn’t in Clint’s vocabulary anymore.
After they finally reached the garage of the Tower, Clint parked the SUV and lead everyone to the elevator, including the beeping robot, which somewhat resembled a rolling trash can, that he forgot they had.
“They have turbolifts here, Master,” the orange skinned humanoid female commented as the elevator started to move. “Fascinating,” she mumbled under her breath.
“It’s slower,” the shaggy-haired human male said with a small smirk.
Clint chuckled softly, “Don’t let Stark hear you say that, he’s already an insufferable bastard as is.”
“I take it this Stark person made this turbolift?” PadmĂ© inquired.
“Yup,” Clint popped the ‘p’, “and the entire building along with a lot of other technological gizmos. He’s the one in the metal suit from earlier that wanted to blast your asses on the spot,”
“Comforting,” Anakin said dryly.
Then, the doors to the turbolift or also known as elevators, opened revealing a red and gold skinned being. Vision smiled amicably at the newest arrivals and stepped aside to let them through. “Welcome, my name is The Vision or just Vision. I’m a synthetic android made from vibranium that was once an A.I for Mr, Stark. He also told me to lead you to the medical labs to be checked up on and to provide you with clothes to change into.”
“Thank you, Vision.” PadmĂ© smiled back at the man and decided to walk beside him, introducing herself and the rest of her group to him.
Anakin then took Obi-Wan off of Rex’s hands, allowing his former teacher lean against him as they followed after Vision and PadmĂ© down the long corridor. When they finally arrived at the doors to the lab, Vision input something into the panel before the doors slide open. There was a man in a purple shirt with his back to the rest of them, staring at a holographic screen and rubbing his chin anxiously.
“Dr. Banner, may I introduce our guests?” Vision told the man, causing him to turn around with blatant surprise.
“Vision, hey,” the Doctor nodded his head and curiously glanced at the group behind him.
“This is PadmĂ© Amidala, Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Captain Rex, Ahsoka Tano, and their astromech droid, R2-D2,” Vision carefully gestured to each and every being clearly making sure that each brief description PadmĂ© gave him correlated correctly.
“Nice to meet all of you, my name is Bruce Banner,” he raised his hand slightly to wave. “I’ll be doing some basic scans and check-ups on all of you, Tony guessed all of your sizes and has some clothes stacked on the bench over there,” he pointed to said bench, “that you can change into. There’s an bathroom connected through that door,” again, pointing to where said door was.
“I’ll go first,” Ahsoka stepped forward with a bright and eager smile.
Bruce eyed the young Torguta with a great amount of curiosity before nodding firmly and gesturing to the table he’d be examining her on. “Thank you, and you’re... Ahsoka, correct?”
“You’re right, doc!”
━━━━━━━━━━━━
An hour or so later, everyone had changed out of their clothes and into Earthly outfits. Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Rex were given gray, black, and blue sweatpants along with white, green, and gray t-shirts. Ahsoka and PadmĂ© wore black leggings paired with red and blue tees. They’d also been given black sneakers and socks which were surprisingly comfortable.
Obi-Wan, despite his initial injuries, was given a thorough check up by Dr. Banner. His chest was wrapped and he was given some pills for the pain. Everyone else had a clean bill of health, and vaccinations just in case.their space bodies couldn’t handle whatever illnesses Earth had to offer.
Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Padmé were then tasked with trying to explain their situation to the Avengers (which Anakin was absolutely floored to learn that was their actual team name.) Ahsoka and Rex lingered in the background, keeping to themselves and talking to each other about how weird this all was.
An eccentric billionaire who used all of his high-technology to make the world a better place. A super soldier that was frozen alive for 70 years with a heart of gold. Two assassins with a deep history with one another. Super-powered twins, one was weird, the other was fast. A Doctor that turned into an alternate person which was green and severely muscular when angered. A former assassin that was brainwashed to be a human weapon... and many other team members that they haven’t met because they weren’t on site according to Vision.
“Sorry if I find it hard to believe... any of that.” Tony blinked after Obi-Wan and PadmĂ© spoke about the Clone Wars that had recently ended in their galaxy. “And sorry, that you two and the kid are... um... space wizards?”
“Some find that the Jedi are sorcerers with our magic-like abilities through the Force,” Obi-Wan nodded patiently.
“What about this War you had? You said it was caused by the secession of star systems from your government, the Republic to the Confederacy and for the War, the Clone Troopers were created for the Republic to be used for battle... but there was another alternative plot beneath it all?” Steve asked, particularly eager about the war they had fought.
“Yes, the Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, Sheev Palaptine, was actually a Sith Lord who orchestrated the entire War. He wanted the Republic to crumble along with the Jedi Order so he could restore the Sith Empire... and...” PadmĂ© carefully glanced over at Anakin who was now staring at his hands, gripping them tightly.
Padmé frowned softly and then reached forward and put her hand over his, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze.
“Palpatine... Darth Sideous was grooming me for years and nearly seduced me into the dark side of the Force to become his new apprentice...” Anakin announced in a soft voice as he tried to steady himself from lashing out or leaving the room.
“He had chips put in Rex and all of the clones that when activated, would massacre any and all the Jedi they served.” Obi-Wan added, quick to take attention away from Anakin, knowing all-to-well that the revelations of Palpatine’s true nature was a hard pill for his former student to swallow.
The room went silent for a moment, allowing the information they were receiving to float in the air. It was clear that this group had been through hell and back again for the three years that the Clone Wars raged on.
Steve looked at each and every person, taking note of what kind of role they played. PadmĂ© was a senator, the former Queen of her planet Naboo, who didn’t agree with the War from the start. Obi-Wan and Anakin were generals who watched hundreds of soldiers die under their command for a worthless war. Rex was one of those soldiers who didn’t know where his place was without the War and had survived it but not without a few battle scars. And Ahsoka, she was only a child when the War started, now a growing young woman who not only shouldn’t have never stepped foot on a battlefield, but never had a real childhood.
"I still don’t understand how you got here though. I know space is huge, but out of all the planets to land on, you really chose Earth, huh? And New York nontheless!” Tony chuckled lightly, doing his best to make light of the situation.
“It’s possible that during our escape, we got sucked into a wormhole.” Obi-Wan suggested. “There’s been no records of anyone travelling through one before.”
“Yup, now you’ve lost me,” Clint blinked blankly before getting up to walk into the kitchen. “Anyone want some beers? Don’t answer that, because everyone is getting one. We’ve deserved it.”
“Like I said before, there are Separatist sympathizers that want us dead. They hit our hyperspace drive right when Ani put in the coordinates while we were escaping the skirmish and... here we are.”
Clint then returned from the kitchen, handing out beer bottles to everyone before stopping in front of Ahsoka and eyeing her warily. “How old are you anyway?”
“Galactic Standard would have me at 17,” Ahsoka replied as she eyed the beer bottle in his arms. “It’s the legal age to drink in most of the galaxy,”
“Ah, sorry little lady, but the legal drinking age here is 21,” Clint patted the space between her montrals ever-so carefully in a playful manner before continuing to pass out drinks.
Ahsoka scrunched her face together in annoyance and turned her head in the direction of Anakin. “What a bunch of bantha-poodoo! Master, you’ve seen me drink before! Tell the sleemo,”
“Sorry Snips, but if their legal age is different here then...” Anakin shrugged his shoulders to indicate that the situation was simply out of his hands before popping open the top of the beer bottle and taking a sip.
Rex laughed loudly and slapped his hand over his mouth to stifle it. He’s seen his fair share of the Torguta drinking, many times he had to drag her back to base over his shoulder because she was a bit of a lightweight. And if he was going to be honest, this was the peek of entertainment.
The teen crossed her arms over her chest and huffed as she watched him drink. “This sucks, Skyguy.”
“Ah, I’ll have to decline from drinking.” Obi-Wan gestured to his chest. “I’m on medication and I don’t know how well that would mix with alcohol.”
“I can make some tea instead, I don’t drink anyway,” Wanda waved her hand as strings of red floated from her fingertips and towards the kitchen, where the stove turned on and a tea kettle started to bottle.
“Splendid,” Obi-Wan nodded his head in her direction, thankful that they at least had tea here. “Might want to make some for Ahsoka here, she looks like she needs a calming tea.”
Ahsoka stuck her tongue out at the older man in a childish manner. “Oh you think you’re so funny, Master.”
Whilst everyone was busy conversing and sharing stories, PadmĂ© would discreetly pass her beer to Ahsoka, knowing that a few sips couldn’t hurt. The teenage girl was more than happy that the Senator was giving into her whims. Plus, the two have had their fair share of nights spent sharing a bottle of Alderaanian wine towards the end of the War.
Though, this act didn’t go unnoticed by everyone. Tony thought it was funny when he first noticed the exchange, recalling how his first few drinks were at home with Jarvis. He didn’t say anything, just smirked behind his bottle and went on with their night.
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wisteria-lodge · 5 years ago
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Character Analysis: Sorting Pirates of the Caribbean
So @sortinghatchats is brilliant. Absolutely my favorite character (and person!) analysis system. Instead of one house, you get two - a PRIMARY (your motivation, why you do things), and a SECONDARY (your toolbox, how you get things done.) Here is a very stripped down refresher, and here is my explanation for why I am saying Lion, Bird, Badger and Snake instead of the names of the Hogwarts houses. 
IDEALIST PRIMARY Lion - I do what I feel is right. (MORAL) Bird - I do what I decide is correct. (LOGICAL) LOYALIST PRIMARY Badger - I do what helps my community (PEOPLE MATTER) Snake - I do what helps me/my inner circle (MY PEOPLE MATTER)
IMPROVISATIONAL SECONDARY Lion - Charge! React! Smash the system! Snake - Transform, adapt, find the loophole. BUILT SECONDARY Bird - Plan, make tools, gather information. Badger - Community-build, caretake, call in favors.
Now let’s talk Pirates of the Caribbean! I’m mostly focusing on the first film because it’s the best and my favorite, but I do mention 2 and 3.
***
Jack Sparrow is the classic Snake secondary. He’ll improvise an escape, improvise a weapon, wait for “the opportune moment.” He’s never fought fair in his life and doesn’t feel the tiniest bit bad about it. He’s silver-tongued. When he’s in a tight spot, he’ll tell you exactly what he thinks you want to hear. And if he knows you don’t trust him, he’ll reverse-psychology you on purpose.
It’s hard to see past his theatrical, charming, over-the-top way of doing things, and that’s on purpose. The last time Jack told someone what he actually wanted, he got himself marooned. No wonder he “plays things close to the vest now,” living in his secondary, and making people guess his motives. 
At first he appears totally pragmatic, always on the side of the person who can give him the most stuff. But I don’t buy it. Jack Sparrow has a weird code of honor. Maybe not one he’s comfortable with (“you can never predict when an honest man is going to do something incredibly
 stupid.”) But it’s there. The way he’s introduced - alone, respectfully saluting hanged pirates – that’s letting us know it’s not just his own freedom he values.
I like that little moment after he rescues Elizabeth when he makes it clear that she doesn’t owe him anything. “I saved your life, you saved mine, we’re square” implies that there’s a right way to do things, and that the wrong way is making people feel obligated. Jack has similar moments with Gibbs. Every time he says “keep to the Code,” he’s reaffirming that no one has to save him. When his crew abandons him, Jack shrugs and says, “They’ve done what’s right by them. Can’t ask for more than that.” 
This means that Jack Sparrow has a Lion primary. But he’s a pirate, so his felt morality is less right vs. wrong and more free vs. trapped. Apart from that he’s actually kind of a classic Lion - perfectly happy on his own, so long as he doesn’t have to compromise his morals. In a deleted scene we learn that he turned pirate because he refused to be a slave ship captain, and that’s in character. He only wants the Black Pearl because the Black Pearl is freedom. That’s the message he teaches, as an unconventional mentor. He cuts Elizabeth out of her literal corset, and prods Will out of his figurative one.
(and a magic compass that points to whatever Jack wants most is a gorgeous metaphor for a Lion primary, guided by their feelings and intuition. Their internal compass).
Elizabeth Swann has a pirate’s soul. She ends the story as Pirate King. But when we meet her, she is a high-class lady deeply suspicious of the rules. She’s not on board with the latest fashions, eager to ditch her table manners, and she’s real friendly with Will - even though it makes her father bluster, “The setting is not entirely proper!” Miss Elizabeth Swann is stifled by her situation (her corset is too tight.) She’s got a whole life planned out for her, and it’s a nice life. Port Royal is a nice city and Norrington is a nice guy. But still. The thought that this is where things are going makes her uncomfortable. 
Elizabeth wants to be able to act based on her gut responses. And as long as the pirates are also doing this, she’s on board. But she ditches the Pirate Code the moment it contradicts her own internal felt morality.
ELIZABETH: All of you with me. Will is in that cave and we must save him! (
) GIBBS: There’s the Code to consider. ELIZABETH: The Code. You’re pirates. Hang the Code, and hang the rules. They’re more like guidelines anyway.
She’s been using the pirate way of life as a way to justify and explain the way she’s always felt. And when you put things in that order (I like this system because it supports what I already know to be true) that’s a Lion primary. Also, the advice her dad gives her is just so perfect for a Lion: “Even a good decision if made for the wrong reasons can be a wrong decision.” You’re doing the smart thing Elizabeth, not the thing you feel is right. It’ll make you miserable. Stop it.
When it comes to secondaries, Elizabeth definitely has some Bird skills. She collects data (about pirates), and can put a plan into action. But it’s a model. When she’s in trouble, when things are serious, she goes improvisational Snake secondary all the way. Elizabeth lies to Barbossa, tells Norrington what he wants to hear, pretends to be drunk to put Jack off his guard. She improvises weapons, and she plays into “proper lady” stereotypes so people underestimate her. Gibbs actually recognizes this, and calls Elizabeth “daft like Jack.”
Elizabeth and Jack do house-match, which is why they always seem to get each other. Elizabeth can pin Jack down and make him give her a straight answer. She’s the only one who can consistently trick him. And when she kills him – well, he forgives. Easily. It’s never even a thing. If he had been in Elizabeth’s place he would have done exactly the same thing, and he knows it. And he knows she knows it.
(it’s kind of neat how at the end of the first movie, the two of them are trapped by Norrington, then freed by Norrington, and go off to form the core of their respective pirate crews.)
Will Turner is a charging Lion secondary who deals with challenging situations by laying all his cards on the table and throwing his sword at something. This makes him a really good foil for the Snake secondary leads, and I will never get tired of watching Jack make faces, and say variations of “how about this time we don’t just run in screaming, yeah?”
JACK: Do us a favor. I know it’s difficult for you, but please, stay here. And try not to do anything
 stupid.”
WILL: Let her go! BARBOSSA: You’ve only got one shot, and we can’t die. JACK: Don’t do anything stupid
 WILL: You can’t. I can! JACK: 
 like that.
JACK: So what’s your plan then? WILL: I row over there, search the ship until I find your bloody key. JACK: And if there are crewmen? WILL: I cut down anyone in my path.
To be fair, Will does start off with a Badger secondary model. Badgers care about things being fair, and Will gets annoyed at Jack for cheating, and annoyed at Elizabeth for stealing the medallion. He’s also really leaning into the hard work aspect of the Badger secondary by practicing sword fighting three hours a day. But this doesn’t seem to be a secondary that’s especially good for him. It makes him tense and uptight, and by the end of the first film he’s completely thrown it off.
I really considered a Snake primary for him, based on how single-mindedly he goes after Elizabeth. Movies 2 and 3 just keep throwing Loyalist conflicts at him. (Will can stay with Elizabeth or save his father, but he can’t do both!) But I think he’s actually a Badger primary.
This boy cares about his communities a lot. He doesn’t think he can be with Elizabeth (even though she clearly likes him) because of “propriety.” He believes society when society tells him she’s out of his league. He covers for a boss who spends most of his time passed-out drunk, probably out of a sense of loyalty, or because he feels that’s what he’s supposed to do. He starts off the film completely dehumanizing pirates, but slowly learns his lesson –  a very Badger primary character arc. And then, when Will rescues Jack at the end, it’s not because Jack is his (the way a Snake primary would parse it) but because Jack is a good man who isn’t being treated right.
(also the “part of the ship, part of the crew” refrain that Will’s new crew chants as he takes over for Davy Jones is very
 dark Badger magic. You are becoming part of the whole.)
Hector Barbossa is the definition of a Burnt Primary. He can’t want. He can’t allow himself to want. Wanting is off the table. (because he is an undead skeleton.)
However, I do think that when Barbossa is healthy and y’know, not cursed, he’s a Snake primary. His beloved monkey is a little nod to the sorts of Snakey bonds he would like to form, but isn’t able to at the moment. Apart from that, he values self-care, and is a bit of a hedonist. He likes pretty things. He likes putting Elizabeth in pretty dresses. He likes elegantly prepared food, antique furniture, and nice hats. (Things start getting serious in the sword fight after Jack cuts off his feather.) This is why I think his redemption arc is so funny. Once his primary unburns, and he’s able to want things safely, he pretty much becomes a happy-go-lucky good guy overnight. And you know, I completely buy it.
As for secondary, I’m going with Badger. Barbossa community builds (he’s a much better captain than Jack.) He gives morale raising speeches. Leader of a mutiny is pretty classic dark Badger stuff. Marooning Jack, and dropping Bootstrap Bill into the ocean tied to a canon are both very ruthless, very public acts that are all about weaponizing community as a way to dehumanize your enemies and cement your power.
James Norrington starts out very Establishment (like Elizabeth.) But unlike Elizabeth, he seems to enjoy the way he can just see his life all laid out. Work his way up, become Commodore, marry the governor’s daughter. He proposes the second after he gets his promotion, it really is like he’s working from a checklist. It’s a very rigid Bird primary.
And he follows the law: “One good deed is not enough to redeem a lifetime of wickedness.” But more than that, he is comforted by following the law. When Jack tempts him into going after the Black Pearl, Norrington is clearly feeling it – but says there are things he values more than his own gut responses.
JACK: Think about it
 the last real pirate threat in the Caribbean, mate. How can you pass that up? NORRINGTON: By remembering that I serve others, Mr. Sparrow, not only myself.
This is such a great illustration of the difference between a Lion and Bird primary. A Bird’s higher power lives outside of them (and as we see here, that can make them really hard to tempt, bribe, or corrupt). But a Lion’s higher power is inside them, always. At the end of the film, Norrington adapts his system into something that looks a lot more Lion primary (this is a universe that likes Lions, and Norrington likes Lions too). But he’s still very, very Bird.
Governor Swann tells him that “perhaps on the rare occasion that the right course demands an act of piracy, piracy itself might be the right course,” and Norrington takes that in, sees the actions of Elizabeth, and says - okay. Maybe hunt all pirates always isn’t the perfect system I thought it was. Jack Sparrow tends to leave the world better than he found it, so it’s best to let him go. This change doesn’t seem upsetting to him, he doesn’t need to justify or explain it. It’s just obvious. Norrington reacts exactly the same when he learns that Elizabeth is not in love with him. He absorbs this new information, tells her that he understands, and walks away. When Lions change their minds, the process is a heck of a lot more emotional.
Then in the next film, the people around him don’t support his new Truth, and force Norrington to continue doing things he has discovered that he finds morally objectionable. And so he resigns his commission, burns, and goes into freefall, grasping at the systems he sees around him, trying to find something to hold onto. He seems like he might be beginning to build a more stable Truth – but dies before he can manage it. The sequels did Norrington dirty.
I actually want to say he’s a Badger secondary. At his most desperate and lost, his instinct is to join Jack’s crew. At his most powerful, he’s quietly calling in all his favors and getting the entire Royal Navy to look for Elizabeth. These are both versions of the same thing – leveraging community and connections to get things done. 
tl;dr
Jack Sparrow – Lion primary that sees “freedom” as the ultimate good, with a bit of an amoral, pragmatic Snake primary performance so people don’t find that out / Snake secondary
Elizabeth Swann –  Stifled Lion primary living in a situation where she’s not allowed to act on her instincts. Runs after pirates every chance she gets, because the ‘pirate life’ allows her to do just that / Snake secondary, Bird secondary model 
Will Turner – Badger primary / Lion secondary, Badger secondary model that Jack gets him to drop.
Hector Barbossa – Burnt Snake primary that un-burns when the curse that doesn’t allow him to want things is lifted / Badger secondary
James Norrington – Rigid by-the-books Bird primary that changes to something that looks a lot more Lion, before it burns in the sequels / Badger secondary
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