#outfits; seeder

[3d-wifey]

And They'd Find Us In A Week - Chapter 6

Pairing: Finnick Odair x Reader Word Count: 5k Synopsis: Here! Playlist: Listen up! A/N: I went with the chariot outfit from the books. If there's ever any confusion about something being described that doesn't match the movies, it's because I mixed it with the books :))))))) I feel like this chapter really hammers home the fact that Hozier inspired this fic. And while I have your attention, Finnick says the word too instead of to later on in this chapter because he means also. Just for those of you who don't know the different meanings of the word.

Past (vi) - Finnick

[18 & 19] -  THE CAPITOL; TRAINING CENTER; ELEVENTH FLOOR

You and Finnick are sitting side by side when they flood the arena.

An earthquake breaks the dam open, and the tributes closest to it die almost instantly, the crushing weight of the water pressure either breaking their necks or knocking them out before they drown. Multiple canons fire one after the other. If Finnick counted correctly, only six tributes are left—five of which aren't from districts with large bodies of water. It’ll only be a matter of time before they tire out. 

He's not hoping that the other kids die, but he is hoping that Annie makes it. She's a sweet girl, and she actually took his advice to heart, unlike his other tributes, who usually didn't take him seriously because of his age. 

He feels a smaller hand slip into his and he doesn’t have to look down to know it's yours. Your tributes had died in the cornucopia and it’s been ten days since then. You had no reason to stay behind. But you did. For him.

You squeeze his hand. He squeezes back.

Once the waters have calmed and the rest of the tributes strive to stay afloat, Annie does the smart thing and moves to float on her back. 

Of course, in a test of endurance, she's the strongest swimmer in the arena. In District Four, kids learn how to backstroke before they can walk. However, there’s no telling how long they’ll be in the water, and trying to tread it will only drain what little stamina she has left.

It takes three hours for three of the tributes to die and five for Finnick to have his first victor.

Socialites and mentors alike surround you and Finnick to congratulate him as they airlift Annie out of the arena. Augustus claps him on the shoulder, and Gloss shakes his hand. But the only hand he cares about slips out of his when four different people try to rope him into a conversation at once, your bracelet catching against his.

You say nothing to him as you edge out of the crowd, and he supposes you don’t owe him an explanation, but it leaves a pit in his stomach to watch you walk away.

When he comes to the Eleventh floor later that night, Chaff is the one who greets him when the elevator opens, presumably heading out himself. Something he should have expected since you aren’t the only one who lives on the floor, but he’s still taken by surprise.

“Oh. Hey?” It comes out as more of a question than a statement, the letters curling and drawing out at the end like he’s just discovered the human language.

“You’re acting like I’m not the face you wanted to see.” Chaff crosses his arms with a beaming grin that spells trouble for Finnick. “What? Am I not pretty enough, Odair?” 

“No, you’re plenty beautiful, Chaff,” he laughs, “I was just expecting Star.”

“Yeah, alright. Go ahead.” He steps aside, and Finnick feels like he got caught sneaking into his girlfriend's room. Which isn’t too far off. “I’m sure you know where her room is.” He decides to pointedly ignore that last comment.

He spots Seeder dishing out playing cards and Haymitch drinking at the dining table, and he just knows this will spread like wildfire among the victors. Despite being grown men, Chaff and Haymitch are the biggest gossips he knows.

“Ah, there’s the blushing bride!” Haymitch half shouts—half cackles, halfway into a bottle of expensive Capitol wine. He ignores them, which only makes them crack up harder. Finnick is nineteen years old, and as they laugh behind him, he actually feels his age for once.

He’s come to your floor for the past two years. So when your door slides open, you only look slightly surprised to see him. 

“Finnick,” you look over his shoulder like you expected him to bring someone with him. “I didn’t think you’d come. I thought you’d be spending time with Annie.” You venture tiredly.

“I spoke to her after they got her into medic, but not for long.”

After Talon, his other tribute, was decapitated in front of her, something happened. Something broke. She cried uncontrollably and screamed when the nurses tried to take her vitals. He was able to help calm her down enough for them to sedate her, but Finnick knows that isn’t going to be an easy fix. No victor comes out of their games the same as when they entered.

You take a step back from him. He didn’t even notice when he got so close and gravitated to you; he never does.

“Well. Thanks for letting me know, I guess. You can go now.”

He stands there, mouth opening and closing.

“Go..." he blinks, furrows his brows, and then blinks again. "I can go—are you mad at me?” He asks incredulously.

"No!" You deny it like the idea of being mad at him never even crossed your mind, yet he can't help but feel like he’s upset you somehow. 

"Are you...sad at me?" You hesitate at that, and his heart sinks. You sigh, and for a second, he worries you’re going to send him away.

"C’mon." You wave him into your room. “I’d rather not have an audience for this.” He glances over his shoulder and spots the three adults in the room clearly eavesdropping as they pretend to play cards at the table.

“Leave the door cracked!” You flip off the cackling trio, herding Finnick into your room, and you barely get the door closed before he’s apologizing.

“I don’t know what I did, Star, but I’m sorry, okay? And—and whatever it is, sweetheart, I swear I won’t do it again.” He pleads, feeling just as desperate as he probably sounds. He’s trailing pretty close after you through the hallway that curves into your bedroom, so he almost bumps into you when suddenly you stop in front of him.

“Finnick, calm down, okay? You didn’t do anything.” You claim, but if that’s true, then—

“I don’t understand. Wh–what’s wrong?” Because there’s definitely something wrong. Your body language is closed off. You’re never closed off around him.

You cross your arms, then drop them and place your hands on your hips. 

“Annie.” You mutter, staring over his shoulder.

“...Annie?” He repeats, eyebrows furrowing.

“Yeah.” You speak muffled, biting at the nail of your thumb. “I’ve been thinking and I can only imagine how exciting it is for you to have someone your age in Four who’s gone through the same things as you. You guys have much more in common, I’m sure. Not to mention you can see each other whenever you want. So, I won’t fault you for, I don’t know, spending less time with me. Or, if you forget to respond to a letter or…something.” You finish off your rambling in a mumble, losing steam.

He blinks at you.

“And why would I do that?” He asks, and you throw your arms up in frustration, walking further into the room to crash down into a forest green armchair. What is he doing wrong?

“Because we don’t see each other outside of the Capitol.” You avoid making eye contact and pick at the skin around your nails instead of biting them, a habit he thought you grew out of. “And I’m fine with that, but that doesn’t mean you have to be. You don’t have to settle for...this.” You wave a vague hand around, either referring to your room, yourself, or your relationship. All of which Finnick finds unacceptable for you to put down. 

“Do you feel like you’re settling?” He asks, doing, in his opinion, a pretty good job of acting like his heart isn’t hinging on your answer.

“What? Of course not.” You look at him like he grew a second head. As if his question isn't completely reasonable given how you're behaving. “But, we just... We have such little time together.”

“Yeah, and that makes the time we do get to spend together special.” He argues. Finnick tracks your movements, coming to stand before you. You clench your fists together before hiding them by folding your arms. “What is this really about?”

You take a breath.

"Finnick, we can never be together outside of this city.” You laugh, hollow and brittle. Beautiful. “With Annie in the picture, you can have something close to normal. You’ve earned that much.” He takes a second to look you over. Finnick has always been able to pick things up through body language. A skill he developed after Mags lost the ability to speak, and even that took him years to perfect. With you, someone who is practically mute when it comes to your emotions, it was almost instantaneous. He can read you like a well-loved book.

"Will you look at me?" He ducks his head down to get you to look at him, but you're being especially avoidant. 

"I’m sorry, it's really not that serious." You mumble, stubbornly keeping your eyes on the ground, "You don't need to—” He places his hand on the back of your neck, bending over to touch his forehead to yours. 

"There you are." He smiles when you finally look up at him. He holds you tighter, free hand sliding down to your waist and his neck straining at the position. "I'm not gonna leave you behind for Annie, okay—I would never leave you behind. For anyone." And he would appreciate you not taking that choice from him. There's already so little he has control over in his life, and, knowing you, it wouldn't be a reach for you to cut him off without explanation if you thought it was for his benefit. 

"Why?" You ask barely above a whisper, confusion so genuine that it nearly breaks his heart. As if you can't wrap your head around Finnick wanting to stay with you, choosing you. He’s failed you somewhere along the way if that’s the case.

He takes a different approach, dropping down to one knee on the cold brown marble floor and then the other until he’s kneeling between your legs, giving his neck a break. The big green chair becomes the backdrop behind you, and it really is an enormous chair.

“Finnick,” you laugh, as dulcet as a melody. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t want normal. I want you. That’s all I ever wanted.” He grins up at you, wrapping his arms around your stomach. "I'll stop needing air before I stop needing you.” He could spend the rest of his life being the most altruistic bastard in Panem and still not deserve you.

You loop your arms around his neck, fingers carding through the back of his hair. He leans into the warmth of your hand and wonders if there will ever be a moment better than this. There’s always been a level of affection between the two of you that's a little too intimate to call friendship, but Finnick’s grown so accustomed to it that he'd feel unsettled without it.

You lean closer to him, practically sitting on the edge of your seat. "Can I…” You hesitate. “Can I try something?" You ask and he agrees like he always will. He can deny you nothing. 

You move one hand to his cheek. The other grips his shirt as you lean toward him. He holds still—barely breathing, afraid that any sudden movement will make you lose your nerve. 

You run cold, you always have, it’s just another thing to love as far as Finnick is concerned. He himself emits heat like a furnace on the best of days.

He remembers cold hands touching his heated skin, cold toes shocking the skin of his legs whenever you lay together. But now, now Finnick feels nothing but a hissing heat as your mouths press together. Heat like a hot knife cutting into a block of ice, like a blazing star consuming him in a ball of fire, only to sizzle into a warm embrace. He melts into you, trusting that you’ll sculpt him back together with your glacial grip.

And you will, won’t you? Take him into your arms and mold him into whatever shape he needs to be to fit inside your heart. He’s had no experience with that sort of thing. He’s never had to, his heart automatically made room for you without any input on his part. There’s a perfect you-shaped hole in his chest, and you’ve already slotted into place. When you hold him like this, kiss him like this, he can believe it. Believe that maybe, maybe this is something you’ve been hoping for too—that you aren't only doing this because it's what you think he wants and that he hasn’t been alone in his longing.

Your lips are soft, softer than he imagined. You’re softer than he imagined. It’s more of a peck than anything else, but it means everything to Finnick. You stop to take a breath, and he moves to follow you as you pull away. He doesn't open his eyes for a second. If it never happens again, if he never has the chance to kiss you again, he wants to commit this moment to memory. Every detail, down to the puff of air against his lips before you leaned in.

Finnick is well aware of the effect he has on people; he’s had five years to come to terms with it. But he’s never been on the receiving end of it before. It’s all new to him—new and utterly terrifying. Terrifying and utterly beautiful because it’s you. It's always been you, and it’ll keep being you even if this ends here.

"What was that?" he asks, just in case he’s reading this wrong and you aren’t looking at the kiss the way he is, in case you’re not looking at him like he looks at you.

"...I don't know." You whisper like it’s a secret shared between you two.

"Okay," he exhales between you. He can work with that. Finnick shakes his head. “I don’t need more than that.” He smiles. He’ll give himself to you in whatever capacity you’ll have him, as long as you’ll have him. He doesn’t have the right to ask for more.

“I think,” you start, dazed, and he can’t tamp down the smug satisfaction bubbling up because he did that to you, “I've wanted to do that for a long time." 

He considers it. He's wanted to kiss you since that first night under the stars. When you allowed yourself to be vulnerable—sharing a piece of yourself with him—and you looked at him with a smile that was more genuine than he deserved, too good to be aimed at someone like him. “So why haven’t you?” 

You sway into him like you can’t help yourself, and he gets the feeling. You rest your forehead on his shoulder.

“I…I’ve never had anything I've wanted before—I’ve never taken it, but,” you burrow your face into his neck, and he can feel your lashes fluttering against his skin as you squeeze your eyes shut, and he doesn't like that. He doesn't like not having your gaze on him. When did that happen? Under his nose, he's become so needy for your attention, so needy for you. There should certainly be some shame there. “But I want this more than I’ve wanted anything, Finnick. I want you.”

“Then take me. Have me." He begs into the crown of your hair, sounding so desperate he’s surprised you haven’t run the other way. But, honestly, he isn’t sure he wouldn’t chase after you. He's been yours in everything but name for years at this point. It’s just one more leap, one more line to cross together because Finnick wants too. He wants and wants and wants. He wants to be yours.

"It's selfish. To want this much, right?" You pull him closer to you, and he goes. He can't imagine doing anything else. You nose at his jaw, and he shivers at the brush of smooth lips and warm breath on the sensitive skin of his neck. He moves his head to the side to give you more room. "It has to be."

"I like you selfish." If this is you selfish, he wants you greedy; he wants you heedless. He wants your want. He closes his eyes, every other sense focused on you. He holds you closer. “I know it’s hard to love me—” 

“Don’t say that. Don’t think my hesitation has anything to do with who you are. It’s just…” You pull back far enough to look up at him, your eyes darting back and forth between his, and he thinks he understands what you’re asking for. 

You’re scared, so you want him to make the choice. You want it to be his decision. He’s scared, too, so he understands. He’ll take the plunge and bear the brunt of the fall. There’s not much he can protect you from, but he can do this. He can protect you from himself.

This time, he's the one who leans in, and you meet him halfway. On instinct, he goes to grab your waist and stops himself. Instead, he grabs the hand gripping his shirt, lacing your fingers with his. 

Finnick's never prayed for anything; he doesn't even believe in a higher power. Yet, selfishly, he begs. Let this be real. Let him keep this one thing. 

Let him keep you. 

Present (VI) - You

[23 & 24 ] - THE CAPITOL; CHARIOT RIDES

You stand alone in the elevator, skin bristling with the phantom feeling of scrubbing. If your prep team had scrubbed any harder, you're sure your skin would have come off. You rub at the now smooth skin of your face, trying to soothe the lingering sting from the waxing.

The Capitol has many demeaning traditions, but there’s nothing more performative than the Chariot rides. There’s nothing quite like being paraded before crowds of adoring fans while dressed in a caricature of your district.

The elevator slows down as you get closer and closer to the ground. It raises your hackles like a cat being lowered into water. Water that’s full of bloodthirsty sharks that have already gotten a taste of you and are coming back for seconds.

When the doors slide open, the breeze nips at your bare skin. Victors, stylists, and horse handlers alike mill around as the chariots get set up. You spot Chaff and Seeder conversing by the horses, and you see Johanna, dressed as what looks like a tree, having a very heated argument with her stylists. You choose the safer option.

“Of course, I’m the only one dressed provocatively,” you say as you approach them. “And here I was hoping you’d finally be showing some skin, Chaff.” You joke, but you really wish you were at least given some kind of underwear. It’s not exactly warm in here and that draft is reaching places it shouldn’t.

You scratch at the pins holding the wreath of purple petunias in your hair; they’re digging into your scalp. Two purple maple leaves cover your breasts, held on with nothing but liquid adhesive. You weren’t so sure about the coverage, but it’s not like you have any sway over what you wear. Vines and palm leaves of different lengths are tied low around your waist as a skirt and not very modestly. If you make any sharp movements, you’ll be flashing your ass to all of Panem.

It’s a drastic change from your last chariot outfit. At the time, your stylist insisted you be portrayed as coquettish. Someone people will sympathize with and root for as an underdog. That innocent little girl act has followed you for the past eight years. Until today, of course. The assets on display will certainly convince the Capitol elites that you’re a woman worth sponsoring, not that your clients need the reminder.

“What, you wanna switch?” He laughs.

“Oh, I’d love to, but I don’t think these leaves will be big enough for you.” Seeder ‘ooh’s as you pat one of the steeds on its flank. The only horses you're used to seeing are the ones bred for farming—hulking beasts genetically modified to only do one job. But these particular horses get to live a life of luxury as long as they serve the Capitol.

“I guess we aren’t that different, huh, girl?” She neighs at you and you take it as a ‘yes’.

“The company you’re keeping must be horrible if you’ve resorted to talking to horses,” Haymitch says as he approaches.

“I hope you’re including yourself.” Seeder teases.

“Ha, ha. I’ve gathered everyone that’ll ally with Katniss and Peeta.” He makes to lean against the horse but thinks better of it when she scuffs one of her hooves on the ground rather threateningly. “Districts Three, Four, Six, Seven, Eight, and, of course, Eleven. More than I thought we’d get, honestly.” So, that’s it then. Those are all the people who are willing to put their lives on the line for something bigger than themselves. That leaves five districts out, and if it comes down to it, ten people you’ll have to kill. 

It’s suddenly become very real.

“There’s plenty to plan and discuss, but in the meantime, how about you,” he grabs you by the shoulders and turns you toward the last chariot in the line, “go and make a good first impression.”

“How’d you describe me?” What face are you putting forward? There’s a certain way you’ll be expected to act while you’re here, so you can’t deviate too far from that shy naivety.

“If you must know, I told them you have a lot of influence and that you’d be a very good ally. Gives you a bit of creative freedom. Now, go play nice.” You stumble a little when he nudges you forward. You glare over your shoulder, and he holds two thumbs up.

Nothing he said was a lie. Whether you want to admit it or not, you do have an uncanny ability for persuasion. You like to believe it’s because you’re eloquent, but you can acknowledge people are far more likely to believe something when it comes from a pretty face.

"I've been meaning to speak to you,” you settle beside Katniss. You smile up at the horse, reaching up to pet her, "I’m sorry I missed your Victory Tour celebration." You lie. You had just finished dealing with a client at the time, so Snow, in a rare act of mercy, allowed you to skip the event.

"Everyone wants to speak to us." She remarks sorely.

"I remember what that’s like," you chuckle, feeling the horse's silky, black mane. You certainly don’t miss being the shiny new toy. There was always someone asking your opinion on benign subjects, always someone making up excuses to talk to you. It was exhausting when you were fifteen, and it’s still exhausting now. "I’m sure you’ve got plenty to say."

“Nothing I should say.”

“You can start with everything you’re grateful for. They love feeling like they’ve done charity work.” The number of interviews you’ve had to do where you practically kissed the Capitol’s ass for ‘saving you from the squalor of District Eleven’ will always leave a bad taste in your mouth.

“Well, that’ll be a very short conversation with an even shorter list.” She says, just as monotone as she is in her interviews.

“It doesn’t hurt to embellish sometimes.”

“I’m sure you do enough of that for the both of us.” You cock your jaw at the jab. You smile around it until you realize something. You might be a little biased here, but if she thinks she’s had the worst of it, then that ignorance isn’t as much of an act as you thought.

"...You have no idea how lucky you are." You frame it not as a question but as a statement. A revelation that’s just revealed itself to you.

"And how's that?" She turns to you, skepticism evident. You pause and stare at her. There's plenty you can say. Namely, the fact that she was saved from a world of hurt by that star-crossed lovers bullshit. Or the immunity her family has because the Capitol can’t seem to get enough of them. All of that can be flipped into you criticizing the Capitol by the right mouth, so you refrain.

"Well," you sigh and conjure up something that won't flag anyone's attention. "For starters, you've never had to be a mentor." 

She hesitates before asking, mask slipping for a second, "Rue?" 

You nod. "She was one of mine." She was the youngest you had ever mentored. 

She and you both knew she wouldn't survive on the ground. You and Thresh told her to stay high in the trees, and you gathered as many sponsors as you could for them. 

"The trees were her best bet at staying alive. I don't know how many times I told her that." You scoff and shake your head. She was nimble and fast, as most children from Eleven are. They’re forced to climb high in trees to get fruit, and being malnourished only makes them lighter. No one would have been able to chase her. And you knew there wasn't a chance in hell of her winning, but you still had hope, despite yourself, "and, for all intents and purposes, she never would have come down—if it weren't for you." 

Despite what it sounds like, you're not trying to place any blame on Katniss. She wasn't responsible for Rue's actions. She didn't make her come down and help. That was all on Rue and how selflessly compassionate she was. 

You are, however, trying to make her understand the role she's played in all this.

"And Thresh..." You trail off. You don't know what to say. If he hadn't been reaped, he would have been forced to do more backbreaking labor. But he would have been alive. 

It’s a complicated dilemma. Knowing that if the kid won, they'd never be the same. And there was always the possibility that they'd be thrusted into the kind of life that you were forced to live. And if they lost, then they were another bright star snuffed out of the night sky. 

It's nearly impossible not to get attached to the tributes, especially in Eleven, where you truly only have each other. 

There's no good answer, just a shitty position to be in. 

"It hurts each time you lose a tribute. But those two—I don't know. I guess they were a reminder of how…human these kids really are." You shrug and hold her gaze. "How human we are." She takes a second to absorb your words. Can she hear what you’re not saying?

My humanity, thousands of people’s humanity, you think, was kickstarted by you. Take responsibility.

"Thresh—he saved me. He probably would have won if he hadn't." 

"He did save you; they both did. It may have been unintentional, but they gave their lives for you," and with the way things are looking, they won’t be the last. "What will you do with the sacrifices they made?"

The question sits between the two of you. It’s one you’ve been asking yourself since talking with Haymitch. You wonder if your answers will be similar.

"Katniss!" Katniss turns towards the sound of her name, and what do you do? You keep facing the horse. 

Finnick.

If you went deaf, you'd recognize his voice just from the vibrations it sent through your bones. You never thought about what you would do when you saw him again. How you would react, how you would get through it. It's a grave oversight on your part because he's getting closer, and your heartbeat is in your tongue. 

You glance to the side and immediately regret it.

Your eyes trail from his brown gladiator sandals up his bare, tan legs to…netting. There’s a fishnet draped across his torso and knotted low around his hips, similar to how your skirt is tied. It’s very thin, with very spacious holes.

“Star.” You wince at the nickname. You drag your eyes away from his chest and look up to sea green. He’s just as beautiful as you remember him, just as magnetic. There’s something in his gaze, something complex, and it’s more than you can handle. It was always more than you could handle.

"Finnick," you nod, far more composed than you feel. Your tongue will always remember the shape of his name, but you’ve forgotten the taste of it. It’s bittersweet.

His eyes sweep over you at a snail's pace, and you feel him take in your curves and bare skin like phantom hands.

“Stunning as always, Star.” He compliments you just like he used to in that voice that isn’t meant for company. Not that he ever cared about that before.

You war between the urges to cross your arms over your chest and to preen under his stare like a peacock. Briefly, you’re reminded of the way some plants will shift to face the sun whenever it moves.

Katniss looks between you both. Probably taking into account the way you simultaneously wilt and bask under Finnick’s gaze and the way Finnick has yet to look away from you. You two were never subtle, and apparently, that hasn’t changed.

“I take it you two know each other?”

“We’re victors.” You sigh. “We all know each other.” He opens his mouth, but you cut in before he can say anything. Just saying your name—your nickname—was already devastating. He says one syllable, and it shakes your foundations.

You turn back to Katniss, taking the opportunity to look at anything but him. "Good luck, Katniss. Congrats on the engagement." You rush out, but it can be blamed on you being ‘shy’. You pat the horse on her flank one last time before marching to your carriage, and the blue bracelet wrapped around your ankle feels especially tight. 

You did better than you thought you would. You didn’t beg him for an explanation like you’ve wanted to since you read his letter. You’ve still got that. You still have your dignity.

You can feel his eyes on your bare back, but he doesn't call after you. Not that you expect him to. There was a time when you could predict Finnick's next move, where you could walk away and know he'd be right behind you. But now you walk away and pretend like each step isn't killing you, wound still as fresh as it was when he left you with no hand to staunch the bleeding. 

Like there isn't a box under your bed in Eleven with hundreds of sand-colored envelopes and a blue handkerchief that smells like the sea.

A/N: You 🤝 Katniss = unreliable narrators Peeta 🤝 Finnick = Longing for an emotionally constipated woman

[corpsebasil]

Hellllo? NIKOLAI HUNGER GAMES PART THREE

he’s shirtless because Lark wanted him to be I don’t make the rules 🙄

Need you a dress like this for the opening ceremony. You can see Lark behind her in the first clip clad in gold. Lmao.

“Oh Jem..” You breathe, a hand flying to the bejeweled neckline of your gown barely an hour before the chariot ride. It’s a scandalous piece, for sure, your outfits always are, but it’s more than you wore during your own games when you had a different prep team.

“We were inspired by the mythologies of war goddesses.” Jem explains, her gelled hair smelling strangely like maple as she finishes adjusting your dress. Beading clinks together as the golden fabric moves. “Nikolai is in something similar. He’s going to look divine.”

“Lark didn’t convince his team to get him naked?”

“Unfortunately no. But there’s always next year.” The two of you share a secretive smile—of course there will be no next year. Jem has always been an optimist, though. Or delusional. “Xiomara said no to the powder. She’s been speaking with District Twelve’s team.”

“Cinna?” You question and she nods.

“Yes. The gossip is that every team is doing something with lights this year. We want you and Nikolai to shine on your own. Just smile and wave. You’ll please the crowd. You always do.”

The both of you exchange a glance before you turn to her, clasping her pale hands. Her gorgeous almond-shaped eyes meet yours, the deep brown of them vulnerable.

"I'll miss you." You admit, forcing a weak smile.

Her smile own is shaky as she pulls away, adjusting your dress.

"Shine for me."

-

The chariot ride went as expected. Surprisingly enough, Nikolai was more well-covered then you would've thought; clad in gold armor from his leather-sandal-strapped-feet to his head, a large, gladiator-type helm shading the bottom half of his face from you. When you'd followed District One, he'd laughed, raising a spear (dulled, of course) in response to the wild crowd.

You, on the other hand, had stared coldly at the screens reflecting an image of you that resembled a goddess walking among mortals.

Now, though, you were leaning against a wall, scanning familiar mentors and victors. There was Chaff and Seeder, laughing with a blond man you knew to be Haymitch. There was Cashmere and Gloss, a duo that had attempted small talk with you and had failed, your icy smile enough indication that you had no interest in the two idiot bastards. There were the Morphlings, and--

And then Katniss is by your side, approaching in a smoldering ensemble that makes you raise your brows.

"Need a fire extinguisher?" You offer, a coy smile on your face.

Katniss looks like she'd rather be anywhere else. A forced, awkward expression you suppose is meant to be pleasant crosses her face, and you swear an invisible man is holding a gun to her head when she says the next words.

“I wanted to say…sorry.” She tells you, even though she looks like the words leave a bad taste on her tongue. “For Clove and Cato. I know you were their mentor.”

You remember. Of course you remember.

            You remember watching Clove cry out for Cato, your hands gripping Nikolai so hard you worried you’d bruise him. He’d taken the pain from you in a physical way, the only way he could, as you watched both Clove and Cato die one by one. They were vicious kids, but they were sweet to Nikolai and you as well as each other. Clove, especially, reminded you of the younger version of yourself. The version untouched by the horror of the arena. Nikolai had told you, under his breath, to try and stay as strong as you could in the mentor lobby. No one could forget the way you’d lost your mind years before when another one of your tributes died: Coen.

You smile tentatively at Katniss but give her a serious look, your eyes locking together in an unbreakable hold.

“They were just kids. Bloodthirsty as ever, sure, but kids.” When she flinches slightly, just a twitch, you press on. “But so were you, Katniss. You can’t be blamed for their deaths. And besides, you ended his suffering, didn’t you?”

The choked noise you’d let out when you watched Katniss put an end to Cato’s torturous death had gotten glances of shared relief from other mentors. No one had been happy, regardless of their districts of origin, to see Cato being mauled to death for the Capitol’s entertainment. You remember Nikolai’s hands rubbing your shoulders gently, his voice quiet as he murmured reassurances. That night that two of you had shared a bed, your muscles stiff, unmoving and unspeaking as you grieved.

Katniss’s expression is bleak but severe as she nods, soaking in your words.

“Okay.” Is all she says before turning away and leaving you alone.

You’re still feeling slightly winded when Nikolai wraps his arms around you from behind, tugging you against him. Other than Katniss and Peeta, you both are the only victors here in a relationship.

“What’d she have to say?” He asks against your hair, keeping his voice out of range from everyone but you.

“Cato and Clove.” Is all you respond with, and you feel him nod.

“Ah.”

“Well!” You hear a loud voice shout and turn your head, spotting Finnick approaching in a getup that is so revealing you have to laugh. “Don’t you two look absolutely terrifying. Is that real gold?”

“I think you left most of your costume in your room.” You shoot back, grinning despite yourself. Finnick Odair—God bless him—is one of Nikolai and yourselves closest friends. You adore him endlessly and you know he feels the same way. “Think they’re trying to get you completely naked this year?”

His eyebrows furrow in faux confusion and you feel Nikolai’s chuckle against your back. Finnick turns around in a small circle, hand shading his brow like he’s looking for something.

“I’ll tell you a secret, Halo.” He starts and the nickname makes you grin. “It’s nothing they haven’t seen before.” 'Halo', a reference to the way the Capitol began to call you their 'angel' after you won.

You tilt your head.

"No it isn't." You say, but the truth makes you tense.

No it isn't.

[w3bheadz]

Mags Flanagan Character Deep Dive

FC: Lili Reinhart

Name: Mags Flanagan  Age: 16 during her games, but the fic will highlight a lot of her life Gender: Female District: 4 Victor of the 11th Annual Hunger Games Sexuality: Bisexual Personality : She is reputed to be a lovely woman. She was a motherly type person, always protecting people when she could. If you hurt her, there wasn’t a thing you could do to fix it. History: At the age of 16, Mags became the victor of the 11th Hunger Games. Her skill with fish hooks and other natural skills she likely acquired from living in District 4 probably played a role in her victory. She was the first victor to embark on a Victory Tour, as the victors before her were simply transported home after their victories. She was also presumably the first victor to move to the Victor's Village directly after their Games, as well as the first to receive a token monetary prize for winning, as both ideas were first implemented in the 11th Hunger Games. Strengths: Mags had the ability to make fish hooks out of anything, and weave baskets so well that they could float in water without any leaking in Weaknesses: too trusting, not a great runner Weapon of choice: Trident Other weapons: Fish Hooks, traps Family: Rowena Malcolm (Wife), Finnick Odair (Like a Son), Annie Cresta (Like a daughter), Alana Flanagan (Mother) {Deceased}, Connor Flanagan (Father) {Deceased}, Jasper Flanagan (Little brother) {Deceased}, Lily Flanagan (Little Sister) {Deceased}, Zella Flanagan (Little Brother) {Deceased}, Annie Flanagan (Baby Sister) {Deceased}, Peggy Flanagan (Older sister) {Deceased} Friends: Tigris, Rowena, Haymitch Abernathy, Seeder (A victor of district 11), Woof (A victor of district 8) Cecelia (Victor from District 8) Special Skills: Her fishhooks are never failing, and her foraging skills and knowledge for plants Alliances?: During her games, she had alliances with both kids from 7, someone from 10, and her district mate Dolion Graystone. Romance?: Dolion Graystone (Past), Rowena Malcolm (Current) Volunteer/Chosen?: Chosen Reaction to reaping: Frozen, Fear Token: a silver pearl ring Peggy had given to her Chariot Outfit: 

Interview Outfit:

Interview Angle: determined, bold Reaping Outfit: 

Training room strategy: She didn’t really have a strategy, she stayed to herself. What skill did they show to gamemakers?: This wasn’t a thing in her games. It wasn’t until the year after that they decided to do it What kind of score would they get?: 6 or 7 probably

[stephanieromanoff]

I’m rereading the Hunger Games trilogy and I’ll be doing posts for each book to talk about some things that caught my attention and the differences between books and movies.

Here’s about Catching Fire:

It confirms Gale has 3 siblings, 2 boys and a girl. Their names are Rory (12 yo), Vick (11 yo) and the girl’s name is Posy (4 yo). His mother’s name is Hazelle.

Gale pretends to be Katniss’ cousin so people don’t get suspicious about whatever could’ve happened between Katniss and him.

Every victor has to choose a talent since they don’t need to work anymore so they can be interviewed by the Capitol to know more about what they’re doing. This is not mentioned in the movies. Peeta chooses painting since he was the one who decorated the bakery’s cakes. Katniss chooses fashion design since she refuses to choose singing, so she gets in touch with Cinna through a telephone and they get closer because of this, and he makes some designs that he lets Katniss pretend to be hers.

At some point victors’ children were reaped and participated in the games. This seemed to be a recurring thing.

It’s talked about how Haymitch got more sponsors for Katniss than Peeta in the arena, and how he had chosen her to be the one he would help more in the games because he believed she had more chances than Peeta.

Citizens in district 11 are more controlled than in 12, and the Peacekeepers are also more brutal.

Katniss would take some pills during the Victory Tour so she could get better sleep. However those pills didn’t really have any effect besides making her have more nightmares. Because of them Peeta would sleep with Katniss every night during the Tour.

During the Capitol’s party for the Victory Tour, when Plutarch is with Katniss, he shows her a watch with the Mockingjay symbol in it. This was him trying to show Katniss he was on her side.

Katniss gets closer with Madge.

That scene when Katniss suggests to Gale of running away. He tells her he loves her and she responds by saying she cannot think of anyway in that way at the moment. When he hears about the rebellion starting in district 8 he decides to not rum away with her. That scene when Gale and Katniss see the cars with the Peacekeepers arriving in 12 doesn’t exist in the book.

Later Katniss asks Peeta to run away with her, who accepts. But when they were talking about it they hear a noise and go after the source. There Peeta sees Gale being beaten up by one of the Peacekeepers, he tries to stop Katniss from seeing it.

Gale doesn’t stop a Peacekeeper from hitting a citizen in 12, the reason why he’s being beaten up is because he confessed to hunt illegally.

At some point when Katniss goes hunting alone, she meets two people, a woman in her 30s and a girl with the same age as Katniss, who are from district 8, they had ran away to go to district 13.

Katniss mom reveals her friend, Maysilee Donner, was one of the female tributes of the 50th Hunger Games.

When the Quarter Quell is announced, Katniss doesn’t go into the woods like in the movies, she invades one of the houses in the Victors’ Village.

Peeta throws away all alcohol Haymitch has so he could be sober.

Peeta and Katniss watch other Games and train like Careers for the quarter quell.

Katniss’ chariot costume doesn’t catch fire in the book, it’s described as sparkling (idk if that was the term used in the english version).

The whole elevator scene with Johanna is different in the movies. Tbh I prefer the movie scene lol. In the book she talks specifically with Katniss, telling her how she likes her chariot outfit and she also liked one of Katniss’ outfits from her Victory Tour. She takes off her clothes before they all go in the elevator, and during the ride she talks with Peeta about his paintings. Chaff and Seeder from district 11 are also in the elevator. Haymitch isn’t in the scene.

After that scene in the book Peeta tells Katniss the reason why Finnick talked with her, as well as Chaff kissed her and also why Johanna took off her clothes in front of her, he tells her is because she’s pure.

Johanna gets naked again during training. Katniss trains a while not only with Wiress and Betee (like in the movies) but also with Cecelia and Woof (district 8), Cashmere and Gloss, Enobaria

Katniss doesn’t personally see Peeta’s painting of Rue in the book.

Both Peeta and Katniss get a 12 (the highest score) at training.

Katniss and Peeta spend one of the last days before the Games in the terrace of their floor in the training center having a picnic while Peeta draws Katniss.

After the final interview with Ceasar Flickerman Finnick and Johanna try to take the elevator with Katniss and Peeta, but a peacekeeper doesn’t let them.

Peeta doesn’t know how to swim like in the movie. Finnick, felling Katniss to not exercise much because she’s pregnant, goes to help Peeta. Most tributes don’t know how to swim. Beetee figures out the belt everyone has turns into a floater.

Katniss’ “pregnancy” is mentioned a few times, way more than in the movie.

That scene where Katniss aims her bow and arrow at Finnick near that tree (movies), in the book she actually aims at Enobaria. She is about to shoot her when she remembers what Haymitch told her.

[ggmahougenerator]

Name: "Talia, The Gear-masked Summoner!" Character: Bratty Appearance: short, bony, pinkish skin Costume: An academic regalia-esque outfit with a halter top, a lei, asymmetrical sleeves, gauntlet cuffs, a poodle skirt, and a mask-shaped eyepatch Incantation: "Advancing Shore Seeder!"

[holiday-truehart]

Seeder Ridley’s outfit for the 78th victory ball

@taintedones

““A sort of natural golden glow” is what Holiday said she was aiming for with District Eleven matriarch Seeder Ridley.

Draped in an elegant yellow ball-gown, Seeder’s arms have been adorned with a plethora of golden bangles. Her fingers feature matching gold rings.

Heels are not for everybody, and Holiday has elected to give Seeder a pair of sensible, though no less stylish, yellow flats.

The look is finished with a sophisticated updo incorporating a real yellow rose.

“I try to use natural products where I can,” Truehart explained. “Especially if they’re flowers.””

Image sources: hair, dress, jewellery, shoes

[ilguna]

☼ silk (Johanna Mason) ☼

summary; ‘ okay but imagine the Johanna elevator scene with a (femme) reader that has a big fat crush on her. she wants to look, but like she wants to be respectful ahahaha that's all i got.‘ 

warnings; swearing

wc; 1.7k

–

You glance at Woof, watching as they slowly take apart his chariot costume. At this rate, the entire lobby will be cleared before he starts towards the elevators to get to your floors. But still, you wait and wander patiently, pulling apart some of the outfit to hand off to the prep teams. You don’t exactly want to strip in the lobby.

Your first time around, you had pulled off most of the accessories before going back to the floor. All bracelets, rings, necklaces and anything that the prep teams absolutely needed, which wasn’t much, came off. But by the time you were finally able to leave with your district mate, you were at least thirty pounds lighter.

It’s not going to be the case this time around, but you already feel better. The metal bracelets were beginning to irritate your wrists with the chaffing. And the rings are only making you anxious because of how much you’re playing with them. So, all the jewelry comes off and lands in a bag that the girl holds out with a smile.

Patiently, you watch as everyone starts to migrate towards the elevators, all in groups. You should be joining one of them. You really just want to get off your feet and into your room to wash off all the makeup and take off the heavy clothing. You appreciate what your stylist has done for you, but it wasn’t enough to catch anyone’s eyes.

You look back over towards Cecelia, and she’s got a frown on her face. They manage to get Woof down, and he winces and groans through his teeth. Unfortunately, you don’t think Woof is going to last very long inside of the arena. You’ve known him for years, and every now and then you still have to remind him of your name. It’s not a good sign for his memory.

And he’s got to be over seventy years old. Him and Mags--you think that’s her name--are the two oldest tributes. Following would be Seeder, she’s in her sixties but looks to be about forty. All of them are from the very beginning of the Hunger Games, they watched it evolve to the way it is now.

Woof won’t talk about it much, but you remember a few instances where Cecelia had told you the stories that Woof had told her back during her games. Before Woof’s dementia or whatever it is, had kicked in. You’d say it’s a shame to lose your memory, but it’s a slight blessing for victors.

After living through something as traumatizing as the Hunger Games, you’d give anything to lose your memory of it all. To not wake up in the middle of the night with soaked sheets and wet cheeks. It gets especially hard when you’re the only one in the house. No one to comfort you but yourself. It’s lonely.

And it only got lonelier the more you realized how much of a nobody you were in the district before. It was only amplified after you became a victor. All the friends that you thought you’d be keeping, never came around after. What is it like being in a house all alone? It’s a loud silence, the type that you can only fill with your own thoughts that weren’t very pleasant to begin with.

Waking up in a house like that alone wouldn’t be nearly as bad if you can’t remember how you got there in the first place.

“You can go, (Y/n).” Cecelia looks over her shoulder, offering you a motherly smile. She’s the only one that seems to be genuinely concerned over the growing lines beneath your eyes, “This is going to take a while. Take a shower, we’ll see you at the table for dinner. No rush, seriously.”

“I’ve got you.” you give her a tired smile, maybe you’ll take a short shower and just nap for a while, “See you soon, then.”

She doesn’t say anything else, and you drag your feet when it comes to the elevator. And even though there was a rush to get here earlier, you’ve got a free shot to an elevator all by yourself. You slip into it, fully prepared to hit the button to floor Eight, but you see a hand waving you down.

Placing your hand over the doors, you watch as Haymitch comes around with Katniss and Peeta, both in outfits similar to what they wore last year. Peeta offers you a wide, kind smile and it looks like Katniss tries to muster up something with the same worth. 

“Thanks, (Y/n).”

“Sure.” you press the correct buttons on the elevator and lean up against the wall.

Before the doors can shut, there’s another body slipping through the doors. Tall, a cheeky look in her eyes as she glances over every single one of you. Johanna’s eyes seem to linger on you the longest, looking you up and down and quirking her eyebrow for a moment before looking back at the two important tributes in here.

“You guys look amazing.” she says, ignoring Haymitch entirely. 

“Thank you.” Katniss says quietly. You’re not sure if you would have responded like that, maybe reassuring her that she looks good too. But then again, Johanna’s always been the… outspoken type.

She reaches up, pulling her hair out of the bun and allowing the ponytail to fall straight. Her hair is long, and you can imagine that most of it is extensions, anyway. Back during your first games, your stylist had extensions done in your hair to make you look prettier. You suppose it worked, but you’re not entirely sure. They just made your head heavier and hard to not mess with them.

“My stylist is such an idiot.” She’s got her back turned to Katniss and Peeta, and she’s halfway turned to you and Haymitch. She’s mostly staring at you, rolling her eyes, “District Seven, lumber.” she tosses some accessories from her hair onto the floor, “trees. Oh, how I’d love to put my axe in her face.”

Next coming off is the bracelets.

“Better than being dressed like a mannequin.” you snort, and she gives you an amused look.

“You look great, and the material looks like silk.” She reaches forward with one hand, rubbing the fabric between her fingers, and then she looks up through her eyelashes. Your heart skips three beats with how she smiles, “Fits you well.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, feeling stupid when you feel your face heating up. You and Johanna have known each other for a good amount of time, so she’s grown to be friendly with you. And you’ve… grown attached to her too.

“So, what do you think? Now that the whole world wants to sleep with you.” Johanna continues, this statement isn’t directed towards you at all.

“I don’t think that the whole world…” Katniss trails off.

Johanna turns right around and towards Katniss, “I wasn’t talking to you.”

Katniss makes a face, “Okay…”

Johanna then looks over Peeta, “Wanna unzip?”

He shares a look with Katniss, and then Haymitch, and then you. You knew deep down that Johanna would try and pull something like this. Katniss and Peeta are irresistible. They’re so stuck up and new to all of you. While you’ve been fucking around with Johanna, Finnick and the others for years.

Johanna moves her hair, turning around to allow Peeta to unzip. He mutters out a small, “Yeah.” All while Johanna stares you down with this shit eating grin on her face. Right as the sound fills the air, she winks.

You press your lips together, keeping a smile from appearing on your face but also because unlike Haymitch and Peeta, you don’t want to be caught looking. Johanna won’t mind, she’s putting on a show for a reason, it’s just you who’s afraid. Katniss doesn’t look too thrilled either, but it’s understandable on her part.

Johanna pulls down her dress, letting it fall to the floor. She tears her eyes from yours and wheels herself right around to face the other three people in this elevator. Katniss has got her jaw slacked, eyes aimed upwards in a similar fashion to you. As for the boys, they’ve both got this… look on their face that makes you want to reach over and smack them.

You can’t imagine the smugness on Johanna’s face at the moment.

It’s a long moment of her just staring at them, fully presenting herself. You find yourself glad that it wasn’t just you and her in the elevator, because you definitely wouldn’t have been so composed. With her attention pointed on the three people that matter the most in these games.

You’re basically a nobody. But of course, she knows you almost like the back of her hand. And it’s the same way with her, she could ask you a question about herself and you’d be able to answer.

Partially because you’ve known her for so long, and the other part being because she’s super fucking pretty and you melt like puddy around her. The energy she gives off is so bold, and sometimes a lot but the way she carries it keeps it from being overwhelming.

She can bring out the worst in people, or she can bring out the best. It’s like a swinging door with her.

The elevator finally hits her floor, and she leans against one leg, still looking over Haymitch and Peeta. You feel relieved, directing your eyes upward again when she turns around. Out of the corner of your eye, you can barely see the doors open to allow her to leave.

You know for a fact that she has no intention of picking up her clothes. 

And right when you’re about to breathe out a sigh of relief at her exit, her hand jerks out and grabs a hold of your wrist, yanking you out behind her.

“This was fun, let’s do it again sometime!” Johanna shouts back to the elevator, “Come on, (Y/n), it’s your turn."

[lemmy-koopa-rocks]

More Luigis Mansion OCs( final batch for now) that are available for asks in my side blog @asktheghostnewbies.

Name: Rin Komaeda

Gender: Non-binary

Sexuality: Ace

Died at: 21

Year: 2008

Occupation: Chef(specifically, they'd make weird foods, like the stuff Good Mythical Morning makes)

Cause of death: food poisoning

Clothes and hair: white apron, white chef hat, black gloves. Is a slinker.

Ghost color: purple

Fun fact: Despite being a slinker, they prefer always being seen.

Floor: Floor 34, Test Floor

Personality: Compared to other slinker, they are like them, with the added bonus of always wanting to be visible.

Name: Samu

Gender: Male

Sexuality: gay

Died at: 34

Year: 1768

Occupation: Samurai

Cause of death: stabbed through the chest in battle with Nin

Clothes and hair: black, unruly hair, golden samurai outfit with black lines.

Ghost color: silver

Fun fact: He has a rivalry with the ninja ghost, Nin

Floor: Floor 35, right, Samurai's Battleground

Personality: he's a serious and brilliant young man who puts honor above everything else.

Name: Nin

Gender: female

Sexuality: gay

Died at: 32

Year: 1768

Occupation: Ninja

Cause of death: stabbed through the chest in a battle with Samu

Clothes and hair: blonde bangs, black ninja outfit with silver lines.

Ghost color: gold

Fun fact: She has a rivalry with Samu.

Floor: Floor 35, left, Ninja's Training Hall

Personality: silent and mysterious, she is a young woman who puts loyalty above everything.

Name: Boxer

Gender: nonbinary

Sexuality: ace

Died at: 16

Year: 2009

Occupation: Boxer

Cause of death: beaten to death during a match

Clothes and hair: black hair with red, blue, and yellow streaks, white tank top, black boxing gloves.

Ghost color: grey

Fun fact: When they were killed, they got re honor of being declared winner the match. Her opponent insisted on it.

Floor: Floor 36, The Boxing Ring

Personality: a very happy go lucky person, they have a secret serious side.

Name: Seeders

Gender: female

Sexuality: none

Died at: 10

Year: 2019

Occupation: Hamster

Cause of death: old age

Clothes and hair: brown fur, orange steak on head

Ghost color: brown

Fun fact: She's a professional escape artist hamster

Floor: Floor 37, Abandoned Pet Shop

Personality: Outgoing and adventurous, she is also a bit of an introvert and prefers doing things alone.

[agrojayyworld]

Transforming Agriculture through Mechanization

India is the world's second-most populous nation with a populace of 1.34 billion and the biggest wellspring of work in India is Agriculture and pertinent divisions as 70% of the provincial populace rely upon it. India is the world's biggest maker of milk, heartbeats, and jute, and positions as the second-biggest maker of rice, wheat, sugarcane, groundnut, vegetables, organic product, and cotton. It is likewise one of the main makers of flavors, fish, poultry, domesticated animals, and estate crops.

In any case, India despite everything has many developing issues. You will be astonished to realize India produces 25% of all-out worldwide creation however the truth of the matter is India requires 27% of all-out worldwide creation additionally imports 14% of pulses to satisfy nourishment needs. Because of expanding provincial urban men movement increment feminization in horticulture, developing work escalated money crops are some social viewpoints that should be an emphasis on farming. An expanding shortage of water assets in the nation should be modified and new strategies for improved agriculture. Farming hardware and tractor agricultural executes is the main arrangement over every one of these issues

Requirement for Mechanization

Let be top in Global – In India in general farm automation level is around 40 – 45% where the USA is at 95%, China's at 48%. Seeing contender score government need to follow up on this worry.

More Agriculture Output – India will be on top as far as population in the following decade, to take care of them we have plan structure to get high return per hectare

The movement to urban – Most of the incompetent work gets pulled in towards the urban outfit, brings about the inaccessibility of Labors in rural, and with automation will dispose of it.

Advantages from Mechanization

Friendly Farming – Mechanized cultivating will accelerate all practices, spares times, more salary will pull in youth towards cultivating as a profession.

Fewer Injuries – Most of the negligible ranchers use hand devices and across India cause 60% of agriculture-related wounds, advanced farm gear will decrease these.

Fare Quality Crops – Indian curries, mangoes, tidbits, and flavors are known for their incredible quality over the globe, with motorization we can arrive at sends out guidelines and copies farmers pay.

Fewer Inputs – Mechanization guarantees uniform, just as the fitting dissemination of seed, manure, and water additionally these practices, spare ranchers time and work cost. Utilizing the most recent ranch tractor execute, you can do seeding and preparing rehearses simultaneously. Actualizes like glad seeders can acquire large change Ancestral farming methods.

Opposition to Mechanization

Absence of Skills – Many farmers hers don't have a clue how to utilize propelled executes, so they deal with their cultivating exercises with their conventional devices which brings about less profitability

Tractor Fans – Many Indian farmers are just thought about tractors and some time or another today use gear like Plow and tractor cultivator. They are new to a cheerful seeder, laser leveler, straw collector, Seed drills.

Cost – Advance innovation-based machines not fit in little ranchers pockets with regards to valuing.

Administration after deals – Most of the tractor execute are costlier than 50000/ - and it is extremely fundamental to get parts or administration for that machine. Breakdown of a tractor in planting season will make significant misfortune tractor proprietor additionally, Tractor vendors just spotlight on deals, not on administration.

Buy Pilotage – Farmers get in a daydream of salespersons and get one which isn't reasonable for their necessities and field conditions.

Presumable Solutions

Custom Hiring – Small and peripheral ranchers can lease a wide range of hardware effortlessly and take their cultivating to the following level without contributing.

Government's Policy – Modi's administration is concentrating on farmers' government assistance, with respect to this they propelled numerous plans to revive the agriculture segment and improve their financial conditions.

Agreement Farming – Many Agri – startup contracts with ranchers to giving new cultivate produce to urban communities, this rancher can show signs of improvement returns for their produce.

[delicatebluebirdruins]

the hunger games: Catching Fire

i know I’m early but I don’t know the actual time this starts and I’m kind of tired so I’ll just post this now (23:29 pm) and go to bed

1. I love the opening of this film- the music, the cinematography and the outfit Kat is wearing

2. the conversations between Kat and Gale are so awkward

side note: i know someone who worked in the special effects department of this film; i also still have the cinema ticket for it and the odeon article about the film

3. why is the bread that Peeta walks in carrying looks like it has been burned?

4. i love but also don’t understand Mrs E’s accent when she asks “did you have a good walk dear”

5. “this town reduced to ashes” this line from Snow is chilling especially when you know whats going to happen

6. I really don’t care for Effie at the best of times... the hug with Cinna though is amazing

7. “must feed the monster” interesting line from Effie there thoughts?

8. I love the snow kiss

9. “things are great here in 12” But not for long (I am appalled at the lack of Bob Hale/ Dave Lamb gifs tumblr)

10. i love Peeta’s quip about how much closer him and Katniss are

11. I understand Kat’s reaction to the “you’ve earned it line”

12. of course you’re not good with friends Kat you have no true friends in the films

13. Effie’s hair is not that bright a orange really 

14. I love the mockingjay in the tunnel and the broken lights flickering

15. i love, love Peeta’s speech and I love the use of Rue’s theme during Kat’s speech and i love the speech but i wish they kept “thank you for your children” and i love the salute

16. i wish we saw the District numbers... and did you notice that they used the same extra in a few of the scenes?

17. i am glad we got a brief glimpse into nights on the train

18. i love the addition of Snow’s granddaughter

19. I love Caesar being so close to Kat when Peeta is proposing

20. “attitude”... the music... the shoulder touch and the creepy smile... the hat tip toward Peeta... the three nails painted black on Peeta’s left hand... “tough act to follow” Effie’s reaction

21. “a chance for the games to mean something”... the fireworks and I love the blood in Snow’s glass

22. i hate the addition of “Gale maybe if we were away from here things would be different between us”

23. Commander Thread is scary

24. I don’t like the change to Gale’s whipping story line

25. I kind of like the blood splatters on Thread

26. I dislike Mrs E having shaking hands when trying to get the morphling out

27. I like this scene with Prim and Katniss however I don’t like Kat’s opening statement

28. I just noticed that Katniss and Prim are sitting together and there is a empty space between Prim and their mum- I love Kat’s reaction to the Quell

side note: I made a excellent pause on Kat’s face when she takes the first swig

29. why did they have to add in the extra kiss between Kat and Gale

30. I love the reaping scene: the music, how sombre (words are hard) it is, Kat’s braid, Effie’s outfit, Effie’s reaction to saying Haymitch’s name and her saying Peeta’s after he volunteers

31. “show then that we are a team, that they can’t just...” what was Effie going to finish with here?

32. “forget everything  you think you know about the games”- Cinema Sins: ding

33. i love Haymitch applauding the morphlings for self medicating but it always kind of confuses me

34, Mags is someone we had for only a few days and I always get attached to her despite knowing she dies

35. i love the tribute outfit... and saying hi to the horse... the editing for the “i outgrew them” scene is really abrupt... the smiles between Kat and Peeta... I still wish this scene was at night

36. I love Seeder, Chaff not so much... I hate Haymitch’s reaction to Johanna undressing

37. Brutus spear arm strength though... I love Wiress laughing about the force field... Mags is amazing... I love the shooting scene and Wiress applauding Kat’s abilities

38. I love Kat seeing rue’s painting but i also don’t

39. hello knot tying skills... I wish there was a greater reaction to “Seneca” hanging with them

40. Caesar’s opening for the interviews is amazing but also kind of chilling

41. Caesar’s reaction to Beetee’s suggestion about changing the law

42. what was with the bleeping out of Johanna’s words?

43. “actually be your happier self” made me snort

44. i love the wedding dress... I love Kat going yay spinning, then wtf, then i’m a bird now... I love the mockingjay dress

45. I love Haymitch toasting Peeta after the baby bomb

46. the hand holding... the audience’s reaction

47. Cinna getting hurt is always going to be hard to watch

48. when Kat comes out of the tube in the film it is done so well the panic, the feeling of being thrown of kilter (I wonder how different it would have been without a soundtrack and the only sound we hear is waves) the perfect pairing with “this is no place for a girl on fire”

49. I love the force field kiss

50. Again Snow’s granddaughter is a great addition

51, I wonder how much the Capitol’s electricity bill is

52. I love the spile... and Finnick giving the water to Mags

53. Mags reaction to the chimes hurts me

54. Yes I am in the hunger games, yes i am going to touch the fog you know just to check its actually fog and not some scary weapon

55. the fog scene makes me sad when Finnick keeps telling Mags please get up and later when she walks into the fog... I love the music when the fog disappears (still wish Peeta had lost his leg in the films)

56. i love the Peeta talking to the morphling and how pretty the scene is

57. I wish they kept the pearl scene the same

58. Johanna pulls off the “bloody” look well

side note: my sister came and was really sad to see Wiress 

59. the jabberjay scene is horrible... “it’s not real”... I wonder if the Capitol edited videos of Everlark to make it seem like Kat’s the bad guy when they had Peeta dosed with tracker jacker venom

60. I love Finnick twirling the trident in the background

61. I love how the pictures in the locket are just promo pictures... Beach kiss is amazing and I love Johanna calling them lovebirds (I wonder if she was invited to the wedding)

62, I love the “see you at midnight kiss”

63. I love Finnick

64. I love the effect of the “storm clouds” and the force field

65. Snow’s reaction to the arena’s destruction is great (though as i’m typing this I am curious about the timeline like when did the bombers get sent? when Kat was unconscious? how long was she unconscious for?)

66. I love the music for the arena’s destruction: how its shot and of course the music

67. “about the boy” just to clarify about Peeta 

68. Its painful to watch Kat’s reaction to learning where Peeta is, her voice breaking with Haymitch’s betrayal and pain over where Peeta is

69. Gale couldn’t you have waited to tell her that D12 was razed to the ground?... I also love the last shot of the film focusing on the emotions flitting across Kat’s face

[taintedones]

@ttwstarters

IT WAS CERTAINLY AN INTERESTING CHOICE.   seeder had been incredibly concerned when they’d been given a new stylist these  games.     there old one was nothing special  but  a newbie ... district eleven had already had their work cut out for them   (  what else was new? )  she had to admit though,   this was not what she’d been expecting.

strawberries.   their tributes were dressed as strawberries. 

seeder was raised with the old philosophy   when you don’t have anything nice to say,  keep your mouth shut.    except,   she didn’t have anything to say.   every time she thought she’d come up with an opinion on the parade outfits,  she second guessed herself after seeing them at a different angle.   they would certainly  umm   stand out.     she resisted the urge to put her head in her hands as she watched their tributes from afar.    however,  as she heard someone approach,   she couldn’t keep in her concern.

‘ give it to me straight... ’   she began,  not knowing who was behind her,    ‘ those outfits,  ripe  or    c o m p l e t e l y    rotten? ’     yes,   that was a fruit pun.  

[ellanainthetardis]

Do you know flangs? It’s like fluff and angst all in once... ;)

[ff] or [ao3)

Chapter 52 :  Whatever The Cost

Chaff Mitchell was the best friend one could ask for…

Haymitch’s grey eyes darted away from the small card, resting on every piece of furniture in their compartment instead of on the words written in Effie’s flowery handwriting. Eventually, at long last, they fell on her. From his position lying on the bed, he had a good view of her. She was sitting at her dressing table, her blond hair pinned up in one of those quick-made distracted buns that left a few strands curling along her otherwise bare nape… She was still wearing her pink silky jumpsuit and that belt made of golden coins that clang together every time she moved. She was scribbling on her notepad, sometimes cross-referencing with one of the numerous sheets of paper spread in front of her…

He wasn’t sure if she was checking schedules or working on more speeches.

He had left her in charge of that, deciding that she had done a good job at writing speeches that didn’t scream rebellion the previous year. They needed to promote Panem unity still, to put the stress on the Capitol’s generosity… It made him sick to his stomach but that was how it had to be.

She had her own role to play in that anyway. She was delegating, he had noticed that morning, when they had gotten ready to shoot what would essentially be the Tour’s launch. Alys had apparently taken the role of a glorified assistant. He wasn’t sure how the former singer felt about that but she had yet to complain. The girl seemed too much in awe of being there to complain anyway. Trust the Gamemakers to pick up naïve drones who believed in the glory of the Capitol and admired victors like the heroes they were supposed to be.

Effie couldn’t be behind the camera crew staff or on the prep team’s back as much as she would have liked – and how happy he had been to see his old friend Coralus again, if he lived through that Tour without punching the man Haymitch would declare himself lucky – because she had to be there with him. It wasn’t quite a star-crossed lovers act they were playing and it couldn’t be like Katniss and Peeta the previous year. It had to be subtler, more natural.

He had gotten out of his house alone, for instance, looking overjoyed with the prospect of the Tour. He had clasped Peeta’s shoulder with enthusiasm when he had met the boy in the Village’s streets, they had exchanged a few words… He had shaken Undersee’s hand, had received the Mayor’s congratulations and good wishes for the trip…

They were supposed to do a quick sweep around Twelve, his favorite spots, a few anecdotes… That had been when Effie had walked on stage, looking radiant in that silky pink jumpsuit thing – because, according to Harwyn her outfit at the Crowning had apparently launched a trend – and her fur coat. She had mostly chided him so he would remain on tracks and not ramble on about something that would be considered boring for a Capitol audience. The banter was what people would want to see anyway.

He had stolen a kiss at some point, pretending to try and be sneaky about it, pretending he didn’t intend at all for the cameras to catch it…

The relief he had felt once they were all on the train and on their way to Eleven had been short lived.

First, Effie had insisted on briefing them all in the living-room. She had distributed schedules and had made a quick summary of what to expect in the following weeks – she, he and Peeta were all well experienced in that by then but Harwyn and the new escort weren’t. By the time she had been done ranting about security details, schedules and what she expected of each of them, Haymitch had been craving a strong drink. She lectured Peeta at length because he would have to be seen with various mentors and should, she insisted, stress at any opportunity how much he was still grieving Katniss – that was actually his idea, to make the boy less appealing to any grabby Capitol.

Then, she had turned to him and he hadn’t really needed her to tell him how he was supposed to act or how exactly she fitted in the picture but he had figured it had more to do with keeping the others in the loop. He and Effie were so gifted at reading each other they didn’t always discuss things out loud because it was obvious to them.

Alys had seemed pleasantly surprised at being given responsibilities – small things like making sure Peeta knew the names of the victors they would meet in each District or helping Effie check on the rest of the staff, prep teams and cameras crew, so they wouldn’t slack on the job. Haymitch wasn’t sure how he felt about the new escort yet, he tended to dismiss and ignore her, resentful of anyone who would take Effie’s place. Peeta had been a bit cautious around her but friendly for the most part, which seemed to have sent the girl in hysterics because she was apparently his biggest fan.

Harwyn had been told he needed to present every of Haymitch’s outfits to her for approval – which, admittedly, hadn’t pleased the stylist at all but he had grumbled his assent all the same.

It had been a long briefing and dinner had been a welcomed distraction. At least until the silence at the table had become far too uncomfortable. Haymitch had been trying hard not to compare it to the previous year, to the easy conversations, to Cinna, Portia and Katniss… At long last, Effie had remarked on the weather, something Alys had jumped on with apparent relief and the Capitols had kept on most of the chatter from then on.

Peeta had remained silent.

Haymitch had pretended he couldn’t see the resentful glares the boy was sending him.

Everyone had wandered their own way as soon as dessert had been cleared. Effie had begged off to check they were still on schedule and Haymitch had gone back to their room, knowing he needed to do his homework.

He had read the part of the speech about Seeder three times and had it memorized well enough that he wouldn’t need to stare at the cards the next day. Chaff now…

Chaff Mitchell was the best friend one could ask for…

He didn’t think Seeder had any family but Chaff… How was he supposed to look his sister in the eyes when he was the one who had killed her brother? How was he supposed to stand there and call Chaff his best friend when it was his knife that had ended his life?

He could feel it still. The weight of Eleven’s victor in his arms as he fell.

“Say, you fancy a bath?” he heard himself ask.

Effie looked up at him in the mirror, blinking a little. “A bath.” she repeated, glancing back at whatever it was she was doing.

“Yeah.” he shrugged. “We could share.”

She watched him for a few seconds and then fought a smile. “You are aware you are allowed to take a bath without me, right?”

But he never did. Cause she had the good stuff that relaxed muscles and it was one thing to climb in a bathtub full of girly perfumed things with her but it was completely another to do it by himself. He hadn’t been in the Capitol for long enough that he thought it okay to soak in pink water that smelt of cotton-candy by himself yet.

“It’s only fun if you’re in the tub, sweetheart.” he lied.

She pursed her lips a little in a way that told him she knew exactly what he was thinking but she abandoned her papers to stand up. “As long as you take those cards with you and learn your speech…”

He tried to focus on the words while she got the bathroom ready but the part about Chaff refused to sink in.

Chaff Mitchell was the best friend one could ask for…

It wasn’t a really long passage of the speech. He supposed she had kept it short on purpose. Instructions as to what they should say about fallen victors had been vague. Pay tribute, Heavensbee had told her, but don’t wallow. It was a good compromise of that. But it was still too personal, too close, too…

She walked out of the bathroom, make-up free, and tossed the golden belt on the stool in front of her dressing table before coming to stand next to the bed, her back turned to him, her meaning clear. He discarded the cards to the side and sat up with his legs on either side of her to unzip the jumpsuit, pressing a distracted kiss at the small of her back while he was at it. He also unclasped her bra but he didn’t try to take it further.

The day had been too long and he wasn’t really in the mood for that.

She placed the jumpsuit in the clothes hamper and sauntered back in the bathroom naked as the day she was born, making him snort at her lack of reserve. He liked that, in truth. He was slower in getting out of his clothes. The jacket and the waistcoat, he had gotten rid of as soon as they had been back on the train, but the shirt asked him for focus because his fingers weren’t quite steady.

By the time he joined her in the bathroom, with the speech he needed to learn, she was already lounging in the bath. The water was a bright turquoise blue and it smelled of some flower he couldn’t put a name on. She leaned forward long enough for him to sit behind her.

The bathtub wasn’t as spacious as the one at her place or at the penthouse but they made it work. She leaned against his chest, between his legs, and he wrapped an arm around her waist, holding up the cards with his free hand.

For a moment he pretended to read the speech but every time he got to that sentence…

Chaff Mitchell was the best friend one could ask for…

“Walk me through the schedule again.” he requested, not quite managing to keep the nervousness out of his voice.

“We should arrive around ten in the morning.” she said immediately, good enough not to remind him she had been distributing code-colored schedules earlier that day. “We will all get ready, you particularly. Speeches are scheduled for noon. Hopefully there won’t be any… incidents this time and it should be wrapped in thirty minutes. You will have a quick lunch with Eleven’s victors who will then take you on a tour of the District. It will be short. A stroll through the orchards, the sampling of a few fruits – it would be good for you to hand me one at that point so I can exclaim about how much we love Eleven’s fruits in the city and how grateful we are for the labor they’re doing here – then some children will come fetch you and explain to you how it all works. It shall all be very charming. Peaceful. After that, we will go back to the Justice Building to change for the evening. The mayor will do a short speech, you will thank him for his hospitality and then… Well, I trust you to behave during dinner. After that we will come back on the train and we will leave for Ten around one in the morning.”

He closed his eyes and let his head rest against the edge of the tub.

He had done all of that once already. The Tour was always more or less the same, aside from the previous year. He figured if they were back to touring the Districts, it meant that the riots had really been crushed. He didn’t know how he felt about that. Without Thirteen’s support it was a lost cause and would have only led to people dying in vain but…

And the orchards… How was he supposed to stroll in the orchards where Katniss had been killed?

“What about the families?” he asked.

“The families will be present for the speeches.” she told him even though he knew that. He was behaving like a new victor instead of a seasoned one. He knew all that. He knew everything there was to know. “I can probably arrange a meeting if you so wish. I would advise against channeling your inner Peeta and going rogue by offering half your rations.” It was a joke but it wasn’t very funny and she grew serious very quick. “More generally, Haymitch, stick to the cards. I mean it.”

The warm water and whatever bath salts she had put in it were slowly making his muscles relax but he still couldn’t shake the tension. “What if I choke?”

That was the worst thing that could happen.

He was a Quell victor – two times Quell victor. He was the new Capitol darling. He was supposed to be a paragon of strength, the Districts’ champion. If he faltered…. If he showed weakness… If he hinted he wasn’t as grateful or happy with the Capitol as he pretended to be… If they smelt the blood… He didn’t want to become the new Mockingjay. He didn’t want to become the new martyr the Districts would rally around. He didn’t want to be responsible for more senseless death.

“Read the speech to me.” she suggested. “Read it until you can say it without any hesitation.”

So he did.

And every time he came to the part about Chaff, his throat closed and it was impossible to hide the emotion in his voice. It made him angry and frustrated.

“It isn’t a bad thing.” she promised, running her nails up and down his forearm in something that shouldn’t have been as soothing as it was. “Everyone knows you and Chaff were close. It would seem far more suspicious if you didn’t show any emotion. Just… Make sure you are in control. If you feel it is too much, pause and breathe.”

Pause and breathe.  

“I want you with me.” he said. “Up there on that stage. I… I want you with me.”

She winced, straining her neck to look at him. “I need to be backstage with Peeta. I cannot trust him to handle everything on his own. It is only his first year as a mentor and…”

“He and that singer need to learn anyway.” he shrugged. “You can make sure she knows what to do. It’s good. This way we’ll see if we can trust her to do something right.”

“Alys is really not the worst replacement they could have chosen.” Effie sighed, a little chiding. She had taken a liking to the girl, he had noticed. “They could have sent another Viola, you know.”

He made a face. “Oh, shit, is that bitch gonna be there?”

Escorts didn’t always make the trip to their respective District for the Tour, they only did on orders mostly, when Games had been particularly successful and everything needed to go without a hitch.

“It is likely, yes.” she grumbled. “This is a Quell Tour after all. They will want everything supervised. I will have to coordinate with her at some point.” She let out a long suffering sigh and sank further down until her chin was right over the water line. “Wouldn’t it defy the purpose anyway? If I stand there with you… Wouldn’t it look like the Capitol is breathing over your shoulder?”

“You’re not the Capitol, you’re my wife.” he scoffed. Not that they knew that. He rolled his eyes. “Girlfriend. Whatever they call it.”

He hated it when they called her his girlfriend. They weren’t sixteen years old to call each other girlfriend and boyfriend.

“I am also your escort.” she objected. “And I do not think we should take that sort of initiatives. There is a protocol, we should follow it.”

She was right probably.

But…

“I’m gonna choke.” he muttered, fatalistic. He just knew it.

“No, you won’t.” she coaxed, reaching behind her for his neck. He kissed the inside of her wrist just because it was close to his face. “You are used to this, Haymitch. It is no different than going on Caesar’s show and talking about our dead tributes. It is no different than the countless red carpets you went to. It is no different than waving and smiling for the cameras outside the Center.”

But it was.

Because there were no more friends to make fun of it with afterwards, to make less a big deal of it than it was.  

And it was their blood on his hands.

“It’d be easier if you were with me.” he sulked. “You’re good at stealing the spotlight.”

“And I will gladly steal it as much as I can to spare you during the rest of the day but I am afraid for the speeches you have to be on your own.” she said gently. “If worse comes to worse, simply read. Do not look up, do not look at anyone, just read.”

He shook his head. “It needs to be genuine.”

“Do not worry.” she tried to reassure him.

“It’s not me I’m worried about.” he snapped. It was her who would pay the price if someone got it into their head to attack a Peacekeeper in his name. Or if she went around punching more Peacekeepers… He tossed the cards aside and cradled her injured hand in his. She had renounced wearing the bandage that morning, claiming it dampened her style. She was avoiding using her thumb but he didn’t think it was serious. “Don’t do anything reckless, yeah? Best behavior, Effie. Promise me.”

“That you would request that of me is laughable.” she snorted but rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t be able to hit anyone else with that hand anyway, do not fret. It was just that man… He irked me so. From the very first time I saw him…” She shook her head. “He whipped you.”

She rarely stated it so plainly. There was so much pure hatred in her voice… It contrasted with the love she always showed when she kissed his scars.

“We don’t go for revenge.” he told her seriously. “We can’t afford it. We stay alive. That’s all we can do. We stay alive. We keep the boy alive and as safe as we can. We stay alive. Whatever the cost.”

They had gone too far now.

They might as well go to the end of the road.

She rested her head more firmly against his chest. “Rehearse the speech again.”

He let out a deep breath but started talking anyway, reciting most of it from memory, making up what he was forgetting.

He would need to get it right the next day.

He didn’t have a choice.

He had to get through it.

“Chaff Mitchell was the best friend one could ask for…” he gritted through clenched teeth.

… and Chaff Mitchell would have kicked his ass if he ever got his girl killed just because he couldn’t say Eleven’s victor’s name without flinching in guilt and sorrow.

[ulfwolf]

Infatuation—Musing 66

Infatuation— Five devious syllables invading the heart

Philosophers and Saints and Wise Men and even some Unwise Men, they have all hunted for the source of this scourge. Most Unwise Men, however, court her presence and open their doors wide that she might enter fully fledged to wreak her delicious havoc. At their peril, of course, but they never know (or learn) this, nor would they care if they did.

Philosophers and Saints and Wise Men, however, though they are not certain, strongly suspect that these five devious syllables indeed mean to wreak nothing but havoc with the poor unsuspecting (though welcoming) victim who spells his name “Mankind”.

Gotama Buddha once advised: “In the seen, see only the seen; in the heard hear only the heard; in the tasted, taste only the tasted; in the smelled, smell only the smelled; in the touched, feel only the touched.”

Rarely has wiser and more appropriate advice been given Mankind.

We have only to look at advertising (and peek a little under its hood) to appreciate the Buddha’s wisdom. What, one can ask, makes a woman (or a man) beautiful? In the main (and so agree every soul in advertising), it boils down to sex appeal. No more, no less. Hence, the more leg the better (or the more bared six-pack midriff, when it comes to men).

However—and this is a huge however—viewed with clinical detachment, there is no reason why a pair of meat- and skin-encased, multi-boned and strung-together-with-ligaments-and-sinews extremities should induce a sexual yearning; still, men will see more (a lot more) than the seen (they see opportunity, they see allure, they see promises, enticement, future, they even see children, and, of course, pleasure, pleasure, pleasure), ignoring the Buddha altogether. And should there be an enticing perfume (as tested at vast expense by the manufacturers) involved, then the scent will also induce that sexual yearning we often refer to as lust (if momentary) and known as infatuation (if sticking around a little longer).

On paper, there is no reason whatsoever that a female (or male) body, whether scantily dressed or not at all, should evoke yearning, unless we, genetically speaking, are programmed to see what we, under those very circumstances, “should” see rather than what we actually do see.

Now, a program implies a programmer, and one must be excused for asking, where or what is that programmer? Is it God? No, that would make God evil.

The Devil then? No, I don’t think the Devil is that clever—even though Baudelaire did propose that the greatest trick the devil ever played was convincing the world that he did not exist, a clever trick indeed.

What then? Are we perhaps just lab rats for some gigantic, galactic, bio-engineering research outfit determining how best to make us meat-puppets dance to their tune? Hard-to-conceivable as that might be for the run-of-the-mill puppet, my money is on that option.

Infatuation (or lust) is an amazingly strong emotion: it compels, compels, compels action—often not of the wiser kind. And not only will we do idiotic things at the behest of this carrot-cum-whip but we will feel “absolutely right” in perpetrating whatever insanities we perpetrate.

It feels so, so good, therefore it must be so, so right; good infatuated logic, but nowhere near logical in the cold, post-coital light of day.

Oh, it’s our genes ensuring procreation—the popular explanation; our genes’ ensuring the survival or the species.

My take on that: genes are only smart the way a computer program is smart: some intelligence must have conceived and written the program (the genetic code) this way, using the human (and animal—for they are driven by the same grim seeder) endocrine system to enforce compliance: bare legs equals sexual urge (no matter how well disguised) equals doing whatever it takes in order to eventually mate.

I read somewhere that Jehovah, when He created the male, gave him a choice: you can have either a brain or a penis, which do you want?

I want both.

No, you can only have one.

I want both.

No, you can only have one.

I want both.

Et cetera for some time.

Then, Jehovah, sighing, says, all right, I’ll give you both, but I’ll only give you enough blood to use one at a time.

Good enough, said man.

And it’s been that good enough way ever since.

As a fifteen-year old, one night before falling asleep, I imagined what it would be like to fall in love, to truly fall in love (though I did not stress the word “fall” in my conjuring). And, I succeeded. I felt what it must feel to be in deep, wonderful love. Or what I thought was love, for I have since come to recognize that what I felt was infatuation—still, it was so real, and felt so good, and so true, and so worth living for and striving for and perhaps even dying for. I knew this was love, steeped in that feeling I just knew.

I don’t know what source I (accidentally?) tapped, but for a few moments that summer night (still light outside, as it always is in northern Sweden that time of year) I was truly and utterly and helplessly in love with some unknown, faceless woman I had yet to meet. And it was right. And it was good.

Not so, in the cold post-coital light of day.

Love, I have come to understand late in life, has nothing to do with sex. Let me restate this to make sure that no one misreads this: Love, I have come to understand late in life, has nothing to do with sex.

Love has to do with spiritual admiration, it has to do with trust and with friendship. It is probably fifty percent compassion and fifty percent wishing the other person or persons well. I believe it is what Jesus said love was all about—that is, nothing to do with sex.

Nothing to do with infatuation.

Best policy: steer clear.

::

P.S. If you like what you’ve read here and would like to contribute to the creative motion, as it were, you can do so via PayPal: here.

[endenogatai]

Read the mud-slinging pitches Facebook’s PR firm sent us 

Facebook’s latest PR crisis has cast a lurid spotlight on a GOP-led publicity firm called Definers Public Affairs, after a New York Times investigation revealed last week the firm had sought to discredit Facebook critics by, in one instance, linking them to the liberal financier George Soros — a long-time target of anti-semitic conspiracy theories.

The sight of any company paying a firm to leverage anti-semitic and antisocial sentiment on its behalf is, to put it very politely, not a good look.

For Facebook, whose platform is aflame with socially divisive fakes, it’s bombshell bad news.

Although it’s not the only tech firm caught tapping Definers’ oppo research tactics. A piece of internal moves news the PR firm emailed us last month, in happier times for its own reputation, containing promotions and personnel moves in its Washington office, enthused about Definers adding “three new team members to its Bay Area office in California”.

“Today, Definers is a team of 40 with locations in Washington, D.C., San Francisco, and an affiliate operation in London,” the upbeat announcement ended.

How well the Definers brand survives its brush with Facebook remains to be seen.

Tarnishing

Facebook was quick to issue a rebuttal to the NYT article, claiming it had never asked Definers to generate fake news or anti-semitic memes in an attempt to smear its critics.

But it could not deny it had hired a mud-slinger in the first place, raising questions about due diligence, business oversight and, well, whether Facebook has any self perspective at all in the midst of a global brand trust scandal.

Zooming out for a second, you do also have to pause and wonder at quite how radioactive the corporate culture must be when the ‘solution’ to a string of hugely damaging disinformation scandals is to reach for whataboutery and even actual fake news, as the NYT has claimed, to try to muddy the waters in your favor.

It’s almost as if manipulation is in the corporate DNA.

Though again Facebook has decried knowledge of exactly what Definers was up to on its behalf. Yet not knowing isn’t any kind of defence when your business stands accused of defective oversight, self-serving opacity and having a vacuum where its moral compass should be. Accountability? Facebook’s algorithms keep saying no.

It’s still not clear which individual (or individuals) at Facebook actually signed on the line to put a controversial PR outfit to work slinging mud on its behalf.

In a call with reporters the day after the NYT story broke Facebook’s founder Mark Zuckerberg claimed not to know — suggesting: “Someone on our comms team must have hired them.”

He then went on to imply — in the same breath — that there could be more skeletons in the closet, reaching for his favorite solution to self-made scandals (another self-audit), by saying: “In general we need to go through and look at all the relations we have and see if there are more like this.”

As we reported earlier Facebook’s comms department has a bunch of ties to Definers. While Joel Kaplan, its longtime chief lobbyist, looks a very likely candidate for an intimate acquaintance with ‘oppo research’ dark arts — if indeed COO Sheryl Sandberg is in the clear on this one.

But without an actual answer from Facebook we’re left to speculate.

Meanwhile, Facebook users, investors and lawmakers should absolutely be left staggered at the WTFuckery of all this. How is it possible that no one in senior Facebook management knew what its left hand was doing? Where was even basic oversight of its own crisis PR response?

And who in its exec team actually feels accountability for all these fuck ups since no one with actual responsibility has fallen on their sword (though CSO Alex Stamos left recently, apparently of his own volition) — despite 2018 being another annus horribilis for Facebook, with a freshly cracked pandora’s box of privacy scandals, trust breaches and PR own-goals.

Zuckerberg’s artful political question-dodging on home turf and over the pond, in the European parliament, has merely served to further enrage lawmakers who — much like journalists — really don’t like being fobbed off with PR guff.

As a strategy the tactic necessarily burns its own runway. And it already looks to have boxed Facebook’s leadership in.

This is also — let’s not forget — the year that Zuckerberg made it his personal mission to ‘fix Facebook’. Frankly he might have had more success with another f-word.

Mud sticks

Whoever at Facebook made the call to bring in Definers opened the door to dirt-digging and smear tactics that are euphemistically passed off in political circles with the vanilla-sounding label of ‘opposition research’.

More knowingly it’s referred to as ‘the dark arts. 

The basic modus operandi is to locate (or indeed generate) selective information and seed it to the media (or, nowadays, the socials) with the intention of discrediting an opponent. 

These tactics are typically associated with the free-for-all of campaign season politics. And even there it’s always a dirty, unpleasant and ugly business.

Smear tactics and cynically spun counter narratives are also of course the bread and butter of murky interest groups seeking to manipulate public opinion without disclosing their actual agenda (and funders).

Plenty of wealthy individuals and industry groups have been fingered on the non-transparent lobbying front. And social media platforms like Facebook have, ironically enough, made it easier for shadowy agenda-pushers to deploy astroturfing techniques to mask and pass off their self-interested lobbying as grassroots activism — and thus to try to shift public opinion without being caught in the act.

Facebook engaging a PR firm to fling mud on its behalf squares this virtue-less circle.

And the connective tissue is that all these self-interests are being very well-served indeed by unregulated social media.

Since the NYT story broke, Facebook has claimed journalists were well aware that Definers was working on its behalf. But the truth is rather murkier there too.

We checked our inboxes and none of the pitches Definers sent to TechCrunch made an explicit disclosure that the messages they contained had been paid for by Facebook to push a pro-Facebook agenda. They all required the recipient to join those dots themselves.

A proper journalist engaging their critical faculties should have been able to deduce Facebook was the paying customer, given the usually obvious skew.

But if Definers was also sending this stuff (and indeed worse things than we were pitched) out more widely, to content seeders and fencers that trade on framed outrage to drive online clicks, their tasty-sounding tidbits would not have been so critically parsed. And angles they were pushing likely still flowed where they could influence opinion — thanks to the ‘inverse’ osmosis of social media.

(As far as we can tell none of the Definers’ oppo research pitches that we received ended up in a TechCrunch article — well, until now… )

You might find it interesting…

Here’s an example of Definers’ oppo mud-slinging we were sent targeting Apple and Google on Facebook’s behalf:

Just came across this – thought you might find it interesting: https://digitalcontentnext.org/blog/2018/08/21/google-data-collection-research/

“A major part of Google’s data collection occurs while a user is not directly engaged with any of its products. The magnitude of such collection is significant, especially on Android mobile devices, arguably the most popular personal accessory now carried 24/7 by more than 2 billion people.”

The study’s findings are rather shocking… It really highlights how other tech companies should be looked at critically – scrutiny shouldn’t just be on FB for data misuse. Apple & Google have been perpetrators of data abuse as well… 

“Scrutiny shouldn’t just be on FB for data misuse” is the key line there, though it’s still hardly a plain English disclosure that Facebook paid for the message to be sent.

We received multiple Definers’ pitches on behalf of what looks to be three different tech companies — and only one of these is explicitly badged as a press release from the firm paying Definers to do PR. (In that case, e-scooter startup Lime.)

We weren’t entirely convinced even then — given the sender was a random public affairs company — and ended up emailing our own Lime contacts and CCing their press email to double-check.

Generally, though, the Definers pitches we received looked nothing like traditional press releases.

A different pitch that was also sent (we must assume) on Lime’s behalf sought not, as the aforementioned press release did, to trumpet a positive PR goal (of Lime shooting to make its global fleet carbon neutral) but to fling dirt on rival scooter startup, Bird.

Dirt doesn’t fit in a traditional press release template though. So instead we got this email…

I read your piece on Bird’s custom scooter and delivery. Just wanted to flag that Bird’s numbers seem off based on what they have listed on their website: https://www.bird.co/

They’ve taken a bunch off the list. Seems odd since they just announced 100 cities two weeks ago. Thought you’d find this interesting. 

Other similarly mug-slinging Definers pitches we received included more fulsome info dumps in the body of the email — not just a link or few lines trailing something selectively “interesting”.

Sometimes these data dumps came with key lines highlighted. Sometimes there was also a chattily worded email intro (like the one above) to frame the content — typically including a clickbait-style appeal to journalistic curiosity. (The word “interesting” seems to be a popular choice with Definers flaks.)

At other times the pitches didn’t include much or any foreplay at all.

One “ICYMI” email subject line pitch was introed in the email body text without fanfare — with just two words: “see below”. Another had no intro text at all.

The “see below” content in the aforementioned pitch referred to this Mashable article — literally pasted word for word but with two paragraphs highlighted, drawing attention to the author’s claim that the next iPhone “could have significantly slower LTE data speeds than competing Android phones”; and to an “independent” speedtest study cited in the article (which was actually carried out by a company owned by Mashable’s own parent company… ) — and which the author concludes “revealed just how inferior Intel’s modems are compared to Qualcomm’s latest modems”.

It’s not yet been confirmed who Definers was working for to spread that particular cut-n-paste conjecture — but one obvious candidate is Qualcomm . (And for the why, the Mashable article includes an accidentally helpful pointer, noting the pair’s legal disputes over patent royalties and Apple moving away from using Qualcomm chips.)

Another “ICYMI” cut-n-paste job that Definers sent us also targeted Apple — though likely, in that case, the mud was being flung on Facebook’s behalf.

Here the pasted content was this article, by the National Legal and Policy Center, reporting on an Apple shareholder filing a proposal for the company to make a report on human rights and free speech.

So for free speech read ‘Facebook’ as the most likely self-interested source.

(The NYT article also suggested Zuckerberg was especially unhappy about Apple CEO Tim Cook publicly blasting privacy hostile business models — suggesting Facebook might have been keen to find a way to throw shade at its claim to ‘human rights’-based moral high ground.)

As an aside, the Apple-China talking point surfaced by Definers via the aforementioned National Legal and Policy Center article is also, interestingly enough, something Facebook’s former CSO Stamos has sought to hammer hard on in public…

I agree with almost everything Tim Cook said in his privacy speech today, which is why it is so sad to see the media credulously covering his statements without the context of Apple's actions in China.https://t.co/UIxJovocFc

— Alex Stamos (@alexstamos) October 24, 2018

And while Stamos may have left the building at 1 Hacker Way he’s continued to speak up on behalf of his former employer and its choices in public — and liberally fling blame at Facebook’s critics.

That Facebook’s ex-CSO is using the exact same attack points as Definers is interesting in terms of the PR alignment. How deep does that strategic ‘infowars’ rabbit hole go?

Returning again to Definers, in another instance the firm reached out to me via email to “pass along some context” after I wrote this article — about a tool created by Oxford University’s Oxford Internet Institute to aggregate junk news being shared on Facebook.

“Facebook ahas [sic] been working to curb the proliferation of this kind of news and there have been encouraging results from three different studies in the past month,” wrote the flak, flagging three studies to back up his claim — summarizing them in short bullet points (without linking to the cited research).

The ‘context’ being pitched here boiled down to:

an academic study that Definers claimed suggested “interactions with fake news sites declined by more than half on Facebook after the 2016 election”;

a metric created by another university to measure the Facebook distribution of the number of sites that share misinformation — again with the pitch claiming ‘dramatic improvements’ for Facebook at the same time as flinging shade on Twitter (Definers wrote: “The metric was very high for Facebook in 2016 — much higher than Twitter’s — but beginning in mid 2017 it was dramatically improved, and now Facebook has 50% less of what the University of Michigan calls “Iffy Quotient content” than Twitter”);

and a study by French newspaper looking at 630 French websites and claiming “Facebook engagement with “unreliable or dubious sites” has halved in France since 2015”

As another aside Facebook policy staffers recently cited the exact same ‘Iffy Quotient’ metric in a letter to the UK’s DCMS committee — which has been running a multi-month enquiry into online disinformation and trying (unsuccessfully) to get Zuckerberg to personally answer its questions — as part of several pages of ‘contextual filler’ Facebook used to pad out yet another letter to UK lawmakers that contained the word ‘no’.

Committee chair Damian Collins was not impressed by Facebook’s attention-sapping tactics.

“We will not let the matter rest there, and are not reassured in any way by the corporate puff piece that passes off as Facebook’s letter back to us,” he wrote. “The fact that the University of Michigan believes that Facebook’s ‘Iffy Quotient’ scores have recently improved means nothing to the victims of Facebook data breaches.”

Well, quite.

Further reflections

Facebook’s approach to its own publicity brings to mind something that academic and techno-sociologist Zeynep Tufecki wrote earlier this year — when she asserted: “The most effective forms of censorship today involve meddling with trust and attention, not muzzling speech itself.”

Although, in that moment, she was actually talking more about online disinformation tactics than the distribution platforms themselves.

Yet the point does seem to stand — when, in Facebook’s case, the platform business appears to be reflecting (or, well, channeling, via its PR) the same problematic qualities that mire and/or bog down content on Facebook.

Again, returning to how Definers sought to engage with us, in another more labor intensive episode, it pitched another TechCrunch journalist — ahead of a Senate Intelligence hearing which was attended by Facebook’s COO, Sheryl Sandberg and Twitter’s CEO Jack Dorsey. But not by any senior execs from Google.

Here the firm worked to flag up and critically frame Google’s absence, after the Facebook adtech rival had declined to send either of the two C-suite execs the committee had asked for.

“Hey… Are you covering Google’s lack of cooperation for next week’s Senate Intel hearing with Twitter & FB? If so, let me know. May have a new angle for you,” was its opening gambit to a TC colleague in an email sent on the last day of August (the committee hearing took place on September 5) — which earned it a “happy to entertain a pitch” response from the journalist in question.

Definers then suggested a phone call. But after about an hour of radio silence it emailed again, now fleshing out its ‘Google isn’t taking the committee’s concerns seriously’ angle:

I’m sure this is on your radar, but wanted to flag something for you. Google isn’t sending an exec to testify at next week’s Senate Intel hearing:

https://money.cnn.com/2018/08/29/technology/google-senate-intelligence-committee-hearing/index.html

From all reports on the Hill, it will be an empty chair. Given recent news that disruption campaigns have been launched by the Russians and Iranians, it seems very irresponsible on their part. After all, Google is not only the most powerful search engine, it also has one of the largest market shares on digital ads.

I think there is an interesting story on how Twitter and Facebook (while both are far from perfect) are taking the committee’s concerns seriously and Google is absent.

Thoughts?

Note the “both are far from perfect” fillip aimed at Twitter and Facebook to lay down a little light covering fire for a reframed double-barrel assault on Google as the really big baddie for not even showing up.

A few days later the same Definers’ staffer pitched this reporter again, now the day before the Senate hearing — offering “an interesting backgrounder re the committee’s members’ campaign expenses for FB ads, campaign contributions from big tech, and the data tools senators are using to track visitors to their website”.

After getting through on the phone this time they emailed to hammer home a final thought: “Check out the attached docs – there’s a level of hypocrisy here especially before tomorrow’s hearing with FB & Twitter”.

More smear tactics — now aimed directly at the lawmakers who would be asking Facebook tough questions by seeking to attack their moral right to defend privacy.

A month later the Definers operator was back pitching the same TC reporter. Though here it’s even less clear who’s the paymaster behind this particular pitch.

“Hey – any interest in taking a look at Apple employees’ political contributions from the last 14 years or so?” the PR opened.

The pitch was for a report written by another Washington-based PR firm, called GovPredict — whose website describes its business as “research, analytics, and actionable intelligence for winning public affairs campaigns” — which Definers said it could share ahead of release time, under embargo.

The report in question consisted of a six-page proprietary “analysis” conducted by the other PR firm which claimed to summarize the recipients of political contributions of Apple employees — slicing the self-structured data by political party and breaking out contributions to key individuals (e.g. Hillary Clinton, Obama etc).

“In total, 91% of Apple employee contributions have gone to Democrats, and 9% to Republicans,” concluded the ‘report’ — which had been compiled by a PR firm whose stated business is “winning public affairs campaigns” on behalf of its clients, and which was seeded to a journalist by another PR firm being paid by an unknown tech firm to daub Apple in partisan colors.

Whoever was paying to paint a picture of Apple in near pure Democrat blue clearly had an agenda to peddle. Just as clearly, they didn’t want to be seen doing the peddling themselves.

Nor did they need to — given the mushrooming influencer PR industry that’s more than happy to be paid to fling mud on the tech industry’s behalf. (Even, seemingly, at the same company for different paying clients. Nice but dirty business if you can get it then.)

Yet many of the wider problems of big tech which are the root cause of their brand trust crises boil down to a problematic lack of transparency. And the chain-linked lack of accountability that flows from that.

Throwing more mud at this problem doesn’t look like a fix for or an answer to anything.

Nor is it a great look for a scandal-hit adtech giant like Facebook, whose founder claims to be hard at work fixing a flawed platform philosophy that’s failed repeatedly on integrity, transparency and responsibility, to be found dipping into a murky oppo research well — even as it’s simultaneously trying to cast the specter of regulation from the door.

For dark arts read fresh scandals, as Facebook has now found.

Yet it’s interesting that someone at the company — realizing it was in a trust hole — only knew how to keep digging.

from RSSMix.com Mix ID 8204425 https://ift.tt/2KfK6yp via IFTTT

[holiday-truehart]

Task 002 // The Tribute Parade

“According to Ms. Truehart, the inspiration behind Eleven’s chariot outfits this year came from mentor Seeder Ridley herself.

In an exclusive interview, Holiday explained that she’d asked the mentor of the 31st Games for inspiration. “I really wanted to get a feel for District Eleven from someone who lives there,” she said.

Seeder suggested sunflowers and, in Holidays own words, “here we are!”

The petal lashes are actually made of paper, and the flower-crown is made of fabric flowers so that it will keep after the parade. The Official Hunger Games Museum are already looking to purchase it, along with a few other significant items from this year’s parade, for an exhibition next Spring.”

Image sources: lashes, flower-crown, shoes, dress

[sheminecrafts]

Read the mud-slinging pitches Facebook’s PR firm sent us 

Facebook’s latest PR crisis has cast a lurid spotlight on a GOP-led publicity firm called Definers Public Affairs, after a New York Times investigation revealed last week the firm had sought to discredit Facebook critics by, in one instance, linking them to the liberal financier George Soros — a long-time target of anti-semitic conspiracy theories.

The sight of any company paying a firm to leverage anti-semitic and antisocial sentiment on its behalf is, to put it very politely, not a good look.

For Facebook, whose platform is aflame with socially divisive fakes, it’s bombshell bad news.

Although it’s not the only tech firm caught tapping Definers’ oppo research tactics. A piece of internal moves news the PR firm emailed us last month, in happier times for its own reputation, containing promotions and personnel moves in its Washington office, enthused about Definers adding “three new team members to its Bay Area office in California”.

“Today, Definers is a team of 40 with locations in Washington, D.C., San Francisco, and an affiliate operation in London,” the upbeat announcement ended.

How well the Definers brand survives its brush with Facebook remains to be seen.

Tarnishing

Facebook was quick to issue a rebuttal to the NYT article, claiming it had never asked Definers to generate fake news or anti-semitic memes in an attempt to smear its critics.

But it could not deny it had hired a mud-slinger in the first place, raising questions about due diligence, business oversight and, well, whether Facebook has any self perspective at all in the midst of a global brand trust scandal.

Zooming out for a second, you do also have to pause and wonder at quite how radioactive the corporate culture must be when the ‘solution’ to a string of hugely damaging disinformation scandals is to reach for whataboutery and even actual fake news, as the NYT has claimed, to try to muddy the waters in your favor.

It’s almost as if manipulation is in the corporate DNA.

Though again Facebook has decried knowledge of exactly what Definers was up to on its behalf. Yet not knowing isn’t any kind of defence when your business stands accused of defective oversight, self-serving opacity and having a vacuum where its moral compass should be. Accountability? Facebook’s algorithms keep saying no.

It’s still not clear which individual (or individuals) at Facebook actually signed on the line to put a controversial PR outfit to work slinging mud on its behalf.

In a call with reporters the day after the NYT story broke Facebook’s founder Mark Zuckerberg claimed not to know — suggesting: “Someone on our comms team must have hired them.”

He then went on to imply — in the same breath — that there could be more skeletons in the closet, reaching for his favorite solution to self-made scandals (another self-audit), by saying: “In general we need to go through and look at all the relations we have and see if there are more like this.”

As we reported earlier Facebook’s comms department has a bunch of ties to Definers. While Joel Kaplan, its longtime chief lobbyist, looks a very likely candidate for an intimate acquaintance with ‘oppo research’ dark arts — if indeed COO Sheryl Sandberg is in the clear on this one.

But without an actual answer from Facebook we’re left to speculate.

Meanwhile, Facebook users, investors and lawmakers should absolutely be left staggered at the WTFuckery of all this. How is it possible that no one in senior Facebook management knew what its left hand was doing? Where was even basic oversight of its own crisis PR response?

And who in its exec team actually feels accountability for all these fuck ups since no one with actual responsibility has fallen on their sword (though CSO Alex Stamos left recently, apparently of his own volition) — despite 2018 being another annus horribilis for Facebook, with a freshly cracked pandora’s box of privacy scandals, trust breaches and PR own-goals.

Zuckerberg’s artful political question-dodging on home turf and over the pond, in the European parliament, has merely served to further enrage lawmakers who — much like journalists — really don’t like being fobbed off with PR guff.

As a strategy the tactic necessarily burns its own runway. And it already looks to have boxed Facebook’s leadership in.

This is also — let’s not forget — the year that Zuckerberg made it his personal mission to ‘fix Facebook’. Frankly he might have had more success with another f-word.

Mud sticks

Whoever at Facebook made the call to bring in Definers opened the door to dirt-digging and smear tactics that are euphemistically passed off in political circles with the vanilla-sounding label of ‘opposition research’.

More knowingly it’s referred to as ‘the dark arts. 

The basic modus operandi is to locate (or indeed generate) selective information and seed it to the media (or, nowadays, the socials) with the intention of discrediting an opponent. 

These tactics are typically associated with the free-for-all of campaign season politics. And even there it’s always a dirty, unpleasant and ugly business.

Smear tactics and cynically spun counter narratives are also of course the bread and butter of murky interest groups seeking to manipulate public opinion without disclosing their actual agenda (and funders).

Plenty of wealthy individuals and industry groups have been fingered on the non-transparent lobbying front. And social media platforms like Facebook have, ironically enough, made it easier for shadowy agenda-pushers to deploy astroturfing techniques to mask and pass off their self-interested lobbying as grassroots activism — and thus to try to shift public opinion without being caught in the act.

Facebook engaging a PR firm to fling mud on its behalf squares this virtue-less circle.

And the connective tissue is that all these self-interests are being very well-served indeed by unregulated social media.

Since the NYT story broke, Facebook has claimed journalists were well aware that Definers was working on its behalf. But the truth is rather murkier there too.

We checked our inboxes and none of the pitches Definers sent to TechCrunch made an explicit disclosure that the messages they contained had been paid for by Facebook to push a pro-Facebook agenda. They all required the recipient to join those dots themselves.

A proper journalist engaging their critical faculties should have been able to deduce Facebook was the paying customer, given the usually obvious skew.

But if Definers was also sending this stuff (and indeed worse things than we were pitched) out more widely, to content seeders and fencers that trade on framed outrage to drive online clicks, their tasty-sounding tidbits would not have been so critically parsed. And angles they were pushing likely still flowed where they could influence opinion — thanks to the ‘inverse’ osmosis of social media.

(As far as we can tell none of the Definers’ oppo research pitches that we received ended up in a TechCrunch article — well, until now… )

You might find it interesting…

Here’s an example of Definers’ oppo mud-slinging we were sent targeting Apple and Google on Facebook’s behalf:

Just came across this – thought you might find it interesting: https://digitalcontentnext.org/blog/2018/08/21/google-data-collection-research/

“A major part of Google’s data collection occurs while a user is not directly engaged with any of its products. The magnitude of such collection is significant, especially on Android mobile devices, arguably the most popular personal accessory now carried 24/7 by more than 2 billion people.”

The study’s findings are rather shocking… It really highlights how other tech companies should be looked at critically – scrutiny shouldn’t just be on FB for data misuse. Apple & Google have been perpetrators of data abuse as well… 

“Scrutiny shouldn’t just be on FB for data misuse” is the key line there, though it’s still hardly a plain English disclosure that Facebook paid for the message to be sent.

We received multiple Definers’ pitches on behalf of what looks to be three different tech companies — and only one of these is explicitly badged as a press release from the firm paying Definers to do PR. (In that case, e-scooter startup Lime.)

We weren’t entirely convinced even then — given the sender was a random public affairs company — and ended up emailing our own Lime contacts and CCing their press email to double-check.

Generally, though, the Definers pitches we received looked nothing like traditional press releases.

A different pitch that was also sent (we must assume) on Lime’s behalf sought not, as the aforementioned press release did, to trumpet a positive PR goal (of Lime shooting to make its global fleet carbon neutral) but to fling dirt on rival scooter startup, Bird.

Dirt doesn’t fit in a traditional press release template though. So instead we got this email…

I read your piece on Bird’s custom scooter and delivery. Just wanted to flag that Bird’s numbers seem off based on what they have listed on their website: https://www.bird.co/

They’ve taken a bunch off the list. Seems odd since they just announced 100 cities two weeks ago. Thought you’d find this interesting. 

Other similarly mug-slinging Definers pitches we received included more fulsome info dumps in the body of the email — not just a link or few lines trailing something selectively “interesting”.

Sometimes these data dumps came with key lines highlighted. Sometimes there was also a chattily worded email intro (like the one above) to frame the content — typically including a clickbait-style appeal to journalistic curiosity. (The word “interesting” seems to be a popular choice with Definers flaks.)

At other times the pitches didn’t include much or any foreplay at all.

One “ICYMI” email subject line pitch was introed in the email body text without fanfare — with just two words: “see below”. Another had no intro text at all.

The “see below” content in the aforementioned pitch referred to this Mashable article — literally pasted word for word but with two paragraphs highlighted, drawing attention to the author’s claim that the next iPhone “could have significantly slower LTE data speeds than competing Android phones”; and to an “independent” speedtest study cited in the article (which was actually carried out by a company owned by Mashable’s own parent company… ) — and which the author concludes “revealed just how inferior Intel’s modems are compared to Qualcomm’s latest modems”.

It’s not yet been confirmed who Definers was working for to spread that particular cut-n-paste conjecture — but one obvious candidate is Qualcomm . (And for the why, the Mashable article includes an accidentally helpful pointer, noting the pair’s legal disputes over patent royalties and Apple moving away from using Qualcomm chips.)

Another “ICYMI” cut-n-paste job that Definers sent us also targeted Apple — though likely, in that case, the mud was being flung on Facebook’s behalf.

Here the pasted content was this article, by the National Legal and Policy Center, reporting on an Apple shareholder filing a proposal for the company to make a report on human rights and free speech.

So for free speech read ‘Facebook’ as the most likely self-interested source.

(The NYT article also suggested Zuckerberg was especially unhappy about Apple CEO Tim Cook publicly blasting privacy hostile business models — suggesting Facebook might have been keen to find a way to throw shade at its claim to ‘human rights’-based moral high ground.)

As an aside, the Apple-China talking point surfaced by Definers via the aforementioned National Legal and Policy Center article is also, interestingly enough, something Facebook’s former CSO Stamos has sought to hammer hard on in public…

I agree with almost everything Tim Cook said in his privacy speech today, which is why it is so sad to see the media credulously covering his statements without the context of Apple's actions in China.https://t.co/UIxJovocFc

— Alex Stamos (@alexstamos) October 24, 2018

And while Stamos may have left the building at 1 Hacker Way he’s continued to speak up on behalf of his former employer and its choices in public — and liberally fling blame at Facebook’s critics.

That Facebook’s ex-CSO is using the exact same attack points as Definers is interesting in terms of the PR alignment. How deep does that strategic ‘infowars’ rabbit hole go?

Returning again to Definers, in another instance the firm reached out to me via email to “pass along some context” after I wrote this article — about a tool created by Oxford University’s Oxford Internet Institute to aggregate junk news being shared on Facebook.

“Facebook ahas [sic] been working to curb the proliferation of this kind of news and there have been encouraging results from three different studies in the past month,” wrote the flak, flagging three studies to back up his claim — summarizing them in short bullet points (without linking to the cited research).

The ‘context’ being pitched here boiled down to:

an academic study that Definers claimed suggested “interactions with fake news sites declined by more than half on Facebook after the 2016 election”;

a metric created by another university to measure the Facebook distribution of the number of sites that share misinformation — again with the pitch claiming ‘dramatic improvements’ for Facebook at the same time as flinging shade on Twitter (Definers wrote: “The metric was very high for Facebook in 2016 — much higher than Twitter’s — but beginning in mid 2017 it was dramatically improved, and now Facebook has 50% less of what the University of Michigan calls “Iffy Quotient content” than Twitter”);

and a study by French newspaper looking at 630 French websites and claiming “Facebook engagement with “unreliable or dubious sites” has halved in France since 2015”

As another aside Facebook policy staffers recently cited the exact same ‘Iffy Quotient’ metric in a letter to the UK’s DCMS committee — which has been running a multi-month enquiry into online disinformation and trying (unsuccessfully) to get Zuckerberg to personally answer its questions — as part of several pages of ‘contextual filler’ Facebook used to pad out yet another letter to UK lawmakers that contained the word ‘no’.

Committee chair Damian Collins was not impressed by Facebook’s attention-sapping tactics.

“We will not let the matter rest there, and are not reassured in any way by the corporate puff piece that passes off as Facebook’s letter back to us,” he wrote. “The fact that the University of Michigan believes that Facebook’s ‘Iffy Quotient’ scores have recently improved means nothing to the victims of Facebook data breaches.”

Well, quite.

Further reflections

Facebook’s approach to its own publicity brings to mind something that academic and techno-sociologist Zeynep Tufecki wrote earlier this year — when she asserted: “The most effective forms of censorship today involve meddling with trust and attention, not muzzling speech itself.”

Although, in that moment, she was actually talking more about online disinformation tactics than the distribution platforms themselves.

Yet the point does seem to stand — when, in Facebook’s case, the platform business appears to be reflecting (or, well, channeling, via its PR) the same problematic qualities that mire and/or bog down content on Facebook.

Again, returning to how Definers sought to engage with us, in another more labor intensive episode, it pitched another TechCrunch journalist — ahead of a Senate Intelligence hearing which was attended by Facebook’s COO, Sheryl Sandberg and Twitter’s CEO Jack Dorsey. But not by any senior execs from Google.

Here the firm worked to flag up and critically frame Google’s absence, after the Facebook adtech rival had declined to send either of the two C-suite execs the committee had asked for.

“Hey… Are you covering Google’s lack of cooperation for next week’s Senate Intel hearing with Twitter & FB? If so, let me know. May have a new angle for you,” was its opening gambit to a TC colleague in an email sent on the last day of August (the committee hearing took place on September 5) — which earned it a “happy to entertain a pitch” response from the journalist in question.

Definers then suggested a phone call. But after about an hour of radio silence it emailed again, now fleshing out its ‘Google isn’t taking the committee’s concerns seriously’ angle:

I’m sure this is on your radar, but wanted to flag something for you. Google isn’t sending an exec to testify at next week’s Senate Intel hearing:

https://money.cnn.com/2018/08/29/technology/google-senate-intelligence-committee-hearing/index.html

From all reports on the Hill, it will be an empty chair. Given recent news that disruption campaigns have been launched by the Russians and Iranians, it seems very irresponsible on their part. After all, Google is not only the most powerful search engine, it also has one of the largest market shares on digital ads.

I think there is an interesting story on how Twitter and Facebook (while both are far from perfect) are taking the committee’s concerns seriously and Google is absent.

Thoughts?

Note the “both are far from perfect” fillip aimed at Twitter and Facebook to lay down a little light covering fire for a reframed double-barrel assault on Google as the really big baddie for not even showing up.

A few days later the same Definers’ staffer pitched this reporter again, now the day before the Senate hearing — offering “an interesting backgrounder re the committee’s members’ campaign expenses for FB ads, campaign contributions from big tech, and the data tools senators are using to track visitors to their website”.

After getting through on the phone this time they emailed to hammer home a final thought: “Check out the attached docs – there’s a level of hypocrisy here especially before tomorrow’s hearing with FB & Twitter”.

More smear tactics — now aimed directly at the lawmakers who would be asking Facebook tough questions by seeking to attack their moral right to defend privacy.

A month later the Definers operator was back pitching the same TC reporter. Though here it’s even less clear who’s the paymaster behind this particular pitch.

“Hey – any interest in taking a look at Apple employees’ political contributions from the last 14 years or so?” the PR opened.

The pitch was for a report written by another Washington-based PR firm, called GovPredict — whose website describes its business as “research, analytics, and actionable intelligence for winning public affairs campaigns” — which Definers said it could share ahead of release time, under embargo.

The report in question consisted of a six-page proprietary “analysis” conducted by the other PR firm which claimed to summarize the recipients of political contributions of Apple employees — slicing the self-structured data by political party and breaking out contributions to key individuals (e.g. Hillary Clinton, Obama etc).

“In total, 91% of Apple employee contributions have gone to Democrats, and 9% to Republicans,” concluded the ‘report’ — which had been compiled by a PR firm whose stated business is “winning public affairs campaigns” on behalf of its clients, and which was seeded to a journalist by another PR firm being paid by an unknown tech firm to daub Apple in partisan colors.

Whoever was paying to paint a picture of Apple in near pure Democrat blue clearly had an agenda to peddle. Just as clearly, they didn’t want to be seen doing the peddling themselves.

Nor did they need to — given the mushrooming influencer PR industry that’s more than happy to be paid to fling mud on the tech industry’s behalf. (Even, seemingly, at the same company for different paying clients. Nice but dirty business if you can get it then.)

Yet many of the wider problems of big tech which are the root cause of their brand trust crises boil down to a problematic lack of transparency. And the chain-linked lack of accountability that flows from that.

Throwing more mud at this problem doesn’t look like a fix for or an answer to anything.

Nor is it a great look for a scandal-hit adtech giant like Facebook, whose founder claims to be hard at work fixing a flawed platform philosophy that’s failed repeatedly on integrity, transparency and responsibility, to be found dipping into a murky oppo research well — even as it’s simultaneously trying to cast the specter of regulation from the door.

For dark arts read fresh scandals, as Facebook has now found.

Yet it’s interesting that someone at the company — realizing it was in a trust hole — only knew how to keep digging.

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