#sanitation-related illnesses

[shrimpothy]

i just got directly sneezed on.

like my sister fully just shot her sneeze-spittle on my entire arm. i am covered in like salivous dew droplets.

ONE OF THEM TOUCHED. MY LIP.

…

about to commit a felony, stay posted 🔥

[memories-of-ancients]

For the last 14 years, when it rains in Lowndes County, Alabama, contaminated standing water builds up around Annye Burke’s home. When the septic tank breaks down, raw sewage backs up into her toilet, she said. 

Although “frustrated” by the unhealthy and inconvenient conditions, Burke said she doesn’t let it get her down. Human wastewater contaminating homes and yards in these rural parts of central Alabama “has become a way of life,” she said. The problem has existed so long and was so pervasive that a 2017 study determined 1 in every 3 adults in the county had the intestinal parasite hookworm.  

The Biden administration investigated and allocated nearly $26 million to rebuild Lowndes County’s water infrastructure, with the Department of Justice declaring the majority-Black area was suffering from “environmental racism.”   

But earlier this month, President Donald Trump issued an executive order to kill the deal, calling it “illegal DEI.” 

The DOJ’s Harmeet K. Dhillon, the assistant attorney general for civil rights under Trump, said the agency “will no longer push ‘environmental justice’ as viewed through a distorting, DEI lens,” referring to diversity, equity and inclusion programs. 

A 2023 investigation sparked by environmental activist Catherine Coleman Flowers and conducted by the DOJ found that low-income residents of the county, most of whom are Black, have lacked basic sanitation services for generations. Given the area’s especially hard, impermeable soil and the high cost of installing private wastewater systems, many residents have resorted to straight piping to deal with human wastewater. This method involves guiding human wastewater away from the home into a series of ditches and crude piping systems, according to the DOJ report. That water collects in nearby yards, open areas and woods. 

In more recent years, heavier rainfall related to climate change has meant that contaminated water floods into the home, spills across open areas, and contaminates local vegetation and water, exposing residents to illness.   

And so, Burke and more than 300 other families in Lowndes County — located about 40 miles southwest of Montgomery — are forced to live with a failing water infrastructure that has led to serious health concerns, including hookworm, which at one point had been thought to be eradicated from the United States, according to a 2021 study by the Baylor College of Medicine and the Alabama Center for Rural Enterprise. 

Hookworms are mainly contracted by walking barefoot on soil contaminated with infected feces. It can cause abdominal pain, skin rashes, diarrhea, fever and other ailments. 

“We have to be extra sanitary because people getting sick can be a problem,” Burke, 58, said. “The health concerns are real. In 2025 we shouldn’t have to deal with this, but it is what it is.”  

She said she uses various disinfectants multiple times a day to clean her home and protect her family, which includes her children and grandchildren who come to visit. 

This environmental quagmire has persisted for more than 20 years in this rural part of the state, where 72.4% of the population is Black and the median household income is $35,160, according to the latest census; one-third of residents live below the poverty line. Flowers said that much of the problem started back in 1866 with the passage of the Southern Homestead Act, when Black people were first allowed to purchase land there and were offered mostly places that were environmentally unsafe. 

In recent decades, it’s not uncommon for untreated sewage to flow from some residents’ toilets into their yards or back up into their homes through sinks or bathtubs. Drinking water from the tap is out of the question. Some residents have dug ditches in an attempt to drain rainwater away from their homes. 

Flowers, who grew up in Lowndes, has been fighting for 23 years to fix the water infrastructure in the county. Her efforts led to the Biden administration’s $26 million commitment. She said Trump’s cancelation of the agreement did not surprise her. 

“There are some people who are not going to make it a priority to get this work done,” Flowers said. “That’s the way it’s always been.” 

Alabama Rep. Terri Sewell, a Democrat who represents the area, said in a statement that the DOJ’s reason for abandoning the deal was weak.  

“This agreement had nothing to do with DEI,” Sewell said. “It was about addressing a public health crisis that has forced generations of children and families to endure the health hazards of living in proximity to raw sewage, as the DOJ itself documented. By terminating it, the Trump Administration has put its blatant disregard for the health of my constituents on full display.” 

When announcing the results of the 2023 investigation, former Assistant Attorney General Kristen Clarke said the Justice Department found evidence that suggested Alabama’s Department of Public Health showed “a consistent pattern of inaction and/or neglect concerning the health risks associated with exposure to raw sewage.” 

Sewell added that the burden to “remedy this injustice” fell to the Alabama Department of Public Health. But the ADH said in a statement to NBC News that “the installation of sanitation systems and related infrastructure is outside the authority or responsibilities.” 

A second statement from ADH said the department had received $1.5 million of the funds from the Biden agreement and used it in part to pay for three septic tank installations. With the remainder of that money, ADH will pay a contractor to complete more work by May 2026, according to the statement. Trump killed the agreement before any additional funds could be distributed toward fixing the water infrastructure. 

Annye Burke said her daughter, who lives next door, is in a dilemma because she was hoping to receive a new septic tank when hers recently collapsed. She’s lived the last four years with her water issues. 

“Being raised in the country and at one point of having to use outside facilities, I know how to make do,” Burke said. “I just take one day at a time and pray about it and keep moving on. I don’t let it get me down. But my daughter grew up differently, so I worry about how she deals with this stuff.” 

Flowers, the activist, said that while she hopes the agreement will be reinstituted, she has seen communities come together to make change. Last week, she pointed out, she was in Mount Vernon, New York, where sewage issues were resolved with the combined work of the city, county and state government. 

“They fixed it because they should have,” Flowers said. The problem was discovered in 2021  “and it’s fixed five years later. I’ve been working on this in Lowndes County since 2002.” 

Some families have been able to afford to move away, but many cannot. Then the connection to the land is also a factor, said Flowers, who spent her childhood there and whose father was raised in Lowndes County. 

“My family has been in Lowndes County since slavery,” Flowers said. “It’s home for people. Why would we want to move? That’s where our people are buried.” 

Changing homes is not just about occupying another house.  

“We’re talking about giving up a culture,” she said. “So, we will continue this fight.” 

[sandraharissa]

How did they accidentally intimately understand the experiences of mentally ill ppl in s1??? How??? It’s gotta be cos the writers changed right

Ok bcos like, it’s not like Jinx in s1 was a good portrayal of mental illnesses in the sense that it was realistic. I’d actually argue that part of her appeal and what made her work so well is bcos she was undiagnosable. She showed many symptoms of what could be many different issues and so many ppl could relate to her on a basis of one symptom. But what they did with Jinx that made her work so well is that they seemingly understood the emotions and psychology that are shared by ppl with all types of different issues. They didn’t need to understand all the technicalities in terms of, like I said, a realistic portrayal of a specific issue. What mattered was that she felt like a really mentally ill person cos her arc dealt with the struggles of mentally ill ppl. She was portrayed to feel isolated, struggling to communicate/socialize, feeling like she was fundamentally wrong/different, like she inherently didn’t belong anywhere, frustrated with her own symptoms, having internalized guilt, a desire to be loved/accepted, feeling unlovable, trying to hide her issues/symptoms, futilely trying to fit/change her behavior to fit/pass, feeling like a failure etc.

The main betrayal of s2 when it comes to Jinx and her arc was violating that connection that ppl build with Jinx in s1. S2 Jinx is an extremely unrealistic, unrelatable and sanitized portrayal of mental issues.

99% of her symptoms disappeared after she experienced smth that would drastically exacerbate them. Are you pranking me? Is that what I’m supposed to relate to? Quick fixes were applied, like giving her Isha to fix her loneliness but 1)that’s not how raising a child while mentally ill would look like, it would make her struggles worse 2) they cease to portray crucial experiences of mental illness like feeling like you don’t belong cos your behavior is always off, these things don’t just disappear, even when ppl get better there’ll still be these moments, and that’s in a best case scenario. Like trans ppl after finishing treatment saying they got rid of 99% of their dysphoria, but never a 100%. look at how they expertly managed to portray Silco and Jinx having a close loving bond and simultaneously highlight her loneliness and isolation. So she has a kid now bcos single mothers are not famously lonely and isolated ppl right? It was a common point of criticism of Silco that Jinx not having friends amongst her peers is a really bad sign but now she still has no friends but now 1) it stopped being an issue 2) she’s also a single mother now.

The focus was switched from her being portrayed as likely born neurodivergent + traumatized to depression but specifically suicidality. it’s not like in s1 she wasn’t portrayed as depressed/suicidal and you’d think she’d become more so after s1 but that wasn’t the sole focus, but curiously it becomes so in s2. But despite this switch in focus that you’d think would stem from the writers wanting to write about their own experiences or smth that interests them that they think is important it couldn’t be clearer that the writers had zero empathy for the issues they were writing about cos it’s misery porn, a pitfall that many stories that center suicide fall into, glamorizing and romanticizing it. In s1 her worst symptoms like hallucinations were very dramatic and cool-looking visually but it was connected to this fundamental empathy, the understanding of mentally ill ppl as ppl with emotions and what those are. In s2 they drastically switch the portrayal of her issues to fit what they wanted to do with her in s2, and then proceeded to use it solely for cool and dramatic imagery/scenarios. It is completely disconnected from ppl’s real life experiences. The relatability was sacrificed for the sake of following tropes like 'death as redemption' that are supposed to be more dramatic or smth. Having her ping-pong from having no issues to having all the issues throughout the narrative.

Act1: She’s ‘dead inside’, she seems somewhat motivated at some point only for it to be revealed she was planning suicide – alright season, nice, what’s next. Act2: she’s just completely alright now from the get go, her hallucinations show up only when she first finds out Isha’s in danger. why? who knows. It’s like the writers understood that for them that would be a particularly stressful situation so they use the imagery of her illness to communicate she’s super distressed in this moment. So they used the imagery of mental illness not to convey mental illness and how it interacts with her life but as a dramatic-looking shortcut to convey a strong emotion, one that any other character would feel in this situation. Otherwise she’s doing better than she ever was, even in s1a1, and then Isha dies. Act3: so now she 100% ’wants to die’ again and it’s super depresso but then she has one conversation with Ekko and she’s again doing super good and then she dies by semi-suicide but she’s happy doing it and it’s like. beautiful? ok.

[applesontheground]

I am officially here with my very first request from you! 💕

Now, considering that I've been struggling with 'The Horrors' for...a while now, lately, I find myself more and more in need of comfort.

However, my idea of 'comfort' may be quite a bit different than someone else's, especially when you take into consideration that I've always found comfort in the creepy and tranquility in terror.

(Not to be overlooked is my ability to see the beauty in the bizarre and to take solace in sin...*ahem*)

Very conveniently, two of my 'comfort characters' that just so happen to embody all of these qualities are also on the list of characters you write for - Asa Emory, and Gabriel May.

So...here is my request. Since I *adore* a surprise, I'll leave it up to you who you pick to give me comfort. I'm not picky about the details, but there is one thing that needs to be included, something I desire most of all...

A warm, strong embrace.

To be held snug and secure.

A hug, Riri.

I need a hug...

what an understandable thing to ask for. love writing myself some good slasher snuggles when i'm sad, too.

i've been mulling long and hard about who i wanted to choose for you, and while gabriel is still very funky fresh and new to me ... i miss asa. besides what i did a couple days ago, really haven't written him since JULY OF 2022. A GODDAMN TRAVESTY.

it's been too long since we've shared our love for these fictional guys, darkly <3 as i've said, i hope i've made the wait worth it, and that you're doing well! (and hope the horrors have ceased, as well umu)

i can put my arms around you🕷️

SFW | Word Count: 1,300 | Asa Emory x GN Reader contains canon typical/mentions of collector work, injury, fluff 🎼: x

Realizing how hard it was to stand again had only actualized itself during the car ride home.

Working on some sort of autopilot since you had left the house, the weight of holding a pancreas preserved in a jar, watching human body parts placed beside insects pinned to sheets of paper in the similar inquisitive sanitation, and the incident with a live harvester skittering along the back of your hand with needle-thin legs bigger than its entire being, was felt now. In the canopy of your shared house, the garage cold to the touch of your exposed face, you watched him walk inside with saliva sitting in your mouth, sticking to the walls like honey. He gave one glance back, made sure you didn’t look completely devastated, and then disappeared inside.

It was hard to show gratitude even without the minor afflictions besides mental anguish: you had taken a particularly hard fall on your side, limping when you finally got yourself to walk away from the car door, and your head was thundering from a 2x4 – left loose from another one of his projects not relating to, well, collecting – having fallen from against the wall, center against the back of your head in a numbing connection.

Still, you let go of any frustration and ill will towards it as you crossed the threshold between the garage and your shared space with Asa. When you were entwined with another soul, you had learned, these ugly things were far easier to wash off at the end of the day – and you were hurting, but you didn’t mind doing it.

You really hoped he knew that despite limping into the kitchen, silently grabbing the nearest soft surface and burying your face into it. Catching sweat, catching the pained expression, hiding the flush that came with finally calling the horror you witnessed off.

It was all normalizing, helping him with what needed to be done and being let into his double life. At first, he had just asked you to come with him. Sit by in another room and do some busywork while he handled self-made problems. He made sure you knew his other motives, too: the shared time that came with the close access in between work.

Tonight, it was one of the first of a few since he needed assistance: you seeing the people he had been working on. Some were still alive; some still had the eyes to bore into your soul, lingered now in the momentary dark you offered yourself. Bad physical feelings – nausea, fatigue, all of it – would pass. It always had, always would. You did what you could to stabilize yourself now, brush it off again while breathing the familiar smell of the house in through the fabric, hand placed on the cold countertop.

The sink running next to you jolted your attention back, dragging the dish towel off your face. He had been staring, not yet taking off his mask despite the blinds drawn and his gloves coming off. All the reason to, but he still hesitated. You smiled only halfheartedly back; the best one you could manage as he held his hand out. Lost, but once again complying without any more explanation, you gave him the towel, and only then he spoke for the first time in hours.

“Did you hit your head?” He asked, and you replied, “I did. Can still…” Your jaw locked in a moment, so you instead gestured downwards as you started over. “I can still stand, despite that.”

He hummed in reply, now taking the opportunity to start reaching for the laces on the back of his head. You felt a slight spin to your vision, so you then admitted, “I am feeling lightheaded, though, so I might go lay down.”

“I’ll join you in a moment.” He said, sliding the strangely stiff material from his face, turning to you with an exposed face, “Right behind you.”

You smiled again, a little more meaning behind it this time as you stepped away. His focus lingered, more pointed towards your gait to make sure you’d make it up the stairs to the bedroom. When you sighed, straightening your posture and now moving with a strong purpose to go fall into bed, cocoon in the covers, he turned away again.

Relief slipped over you, first falling stomach first into the bed, the same need to hide your face for a few long seconds. After a few more moments of trying to wash the recollections, get it all out of your head, you begrudgingly bent a leg, undoing your shoelaces with your face still down in the mattress.

A snicker got you to pull your face up, looking over your shoulder as you scoffed back at him. “I’m a little bent out of shape, don’t mind me.” You joked, rolling over to your back, and he stepped further into the room. Setting a few remedies down on the nightstand, the man now stood between your legs, outsides of his thighs brushing the insides of yours.

You still had to hold your breath, too worn down to initiate anything like that but still letting him lean down, hands framed on either sides of your head. He leaned in, kissing your neck as he then trailed up to your ear. “I don’t thank as much as I should for…accompanying me.” He lamented, and you responded with a tilt of your head, lining up with a hand to his cheek and kissing him.

“You don’t have to.” You reminded him, “I have a knack for surviving what you’ve decided to throw at me, Mr. Emory. It’s becoming…” You pondered the word, hand sliding from his face to the back of your neck. Fun, maybe? No, too lighthearted. Bearable? Too distant. You met his eyes again, his pupils still impossibly dilated, no color in sight. The word suddenly rushed to the forefront, and you breathed it out below your breath, “Impossible, in all the ways I want to bear.”

He seemed puzzled at that, but you smiled and added, “I’ll make more sense after sleep. That’s all I can ask for.”

He nodded finally, eyes trailing down�� your body for a beat. “Oh, actually I will ask-“ You hooked a leg around his hip, “Could you get my other shoe?” He was frozen, standing back up straight before he smiled, his voice still tender as he took hold of the laces. “Of course.”

Slowly, with as much contact between chests and legs as possible, Asa crawled into bed with you. He waited until you seemed utterly relaxed, curled in the large beige duvet and surrounded by pillows, to find where he fit beside you. Holding his forearms, you let him be the one to adjust now, and then tangled your legs with his as they came around tight. Constricting you to his chest, you felt like you could die in this position, relish the contact and feel the other side of the collector's coin flip to Asa Emory again.

A fast, cold force against the back of your head made your eyes snap open. The dishtowel you had handed him was holding a bag of something frozen – ice, those mixed vegetables you hadn’t gotten to working with yet – where the wood had knocked you almost senseless. Immediate rushes of cold, soft relief made you sigh deeply with once again more force, every muscle going soft and tucking closer to him.

“Oh, that-“ You groaned, your chin settling into the material of the sweater, full weight against him, “Asa, that’s perfect.”

He was silent, but the satisfied peck of his lips on your temple was enough acknowledgement. A perfect fit in all ways that mattered, he mused to himself as he kept the pack held to your head.

[wateroflifefrommountains]

Cassandra Cain: Character Thought Experiment

What if the mandate by Dan D never happened? What if writers were allowed to keep writing stories about Cassandra? What if her run was not cut short? Evidently, there would be a broader exploration of the character and her relevance would not have waned due to absence and editorial mandate. There is an argument that a heel turn would still have happened as Cass is shown to have "limits" to her code. (I.e: There was a chapter in her original run where she mentally killed the Joker after being presented with a scenario where the Joker killed Batman.) Moreover, Cass, has also shown disdain for societal oppression but was ill-equipped to handle or solve said problems aside from the usual fisticuff heroics. At the very least, stories about her struggling with the decision would have been interesting. It can even raise the dilemma in the no-killing rule by raising the "Not killing does not mean not evil" argument. On the other hand, there is also the risk of Flanderization. Despite their best efforts, a well-intentioned writer may still over-simplify the character by focusing on her most prominent traits or by focusing on traits they gravitate to. It is possible for the iteration of the character in this scenario to be similar to the overly cutesy sanitized version held by notable groups in the fandom. Another possibility is evolution. The growth of the character may have become permanent. If Simone's plan to explore her relation to religion became a reality, there could have been an overtly Christian version of the character or even one that gave up crime-fighting all together. In this scenario, it could have been a natural progression or a shocking but earned decision. On the flip side, there could also be grave mischaracterization in the same way Robin: OYL turned her into a villain. It would have still been jarring and it would have still been rejected by the fandom. In all these cases, it would not have been because someone made a decision that character was not sustainable with complete disregard for the fans and the sales. For something to happen by the whims of fate or the faults of those who acted in good faith is simply life, but for it to happen due to the machinations of a puppeteer... is a tragedy (or a crime).

[lingonberry24]

Like stay safe y'all. My family holiday experience this year has been great getting to see people but:

1 elderly woman with a mucuousy cough insisting it was allergies who went through two airports on the way here

2 adults who got a "cough" after visiting family with "a really bad case of pneumonia" and those adults haven't gotten rid of the cough yet. One doesn't wash their hands after using the restroom

The 2 adults they got pneumonia from, one of whom still has a cough. The other said they weren't feeling good today. They both work in-person in busy places in a city.

Their toddler who has mild kid cough and a constant runny nose (2yo)

2 other adults who came with minor coughs and went through a collective 6 airports to get here. One has been getting worse, really didn't feel great today and has a moderate cough and laid in bed all day.

Their kid who doesn't wash his hands and is constantly chewing on something and wipes his nose and has a runny nose and stuff on his face always (1st grade). I suspect his dad also doesn't wash his hands bc he also never prompts him to wash them.

None of them consistently cover their coughs.

Things I'm doing to try to stay safe:

Air filter in my room all the time

Air filter in common space all the time on the highest setting everyone will tolerate, noise-wise

Wearing an n95 in common spaces

Regularly using Xlear nasal spray (was proven to reduce prevalence or Covid by 62%) (2-4x per day)($12 at CVS)

Just used sinus wash which has also shown promising results of reducing illness prevalence

Bringing my air filter into the bathroom and sitting in there with it running for 15+ minutes before taking my mask off to shower.

Eating alone in my room for every meal

Hand sanitizer always. Unfortunately discovered today that norovirus can't be killed by this though, just soap and warm water - so i may add to my tactics.

ensuring my mask has a tight fit with no seals. I have a from ask which means my "fit test" that i do before leaving my room consists of sucking a plastic bag against my face to find air leaks and readjusting accordingly

Getting food first as all meals are shared, and avoid communal food that is in reach of or made by kids

Additional things i could be doing but don't, for various reasons:

Straight up dont eat communal food. Could make my own food or drink nutrition shakes like slim fast or Kate farms (these taste good and feel nutritional in my body. Slimfast is filling, Kate arms needs to be supplemented or perhaps I'm not drinking enough at once)

Getting 8-9 hours of quality sleep

Drinking at least 2 liters of water daily (struggle bc water filter is in the common area)

Spending zero time with my family and living in my room. Or spending less time with them (may do this now that they are showing signs of worsening illness though)

Regularly sanitizing or wiping down my phone

Getting a uv sanitizing bag for my phone (they were $30 around black Friday and the size of a cat carrier)

Taking oralbiotic - for ear nose and throat health, tentatively shown to reduce symptoms of illness and may prevent it. Bottle must be kept in the fridge after opening

Vitamin C / electrolytes - I simply do not have these in a form I can consume right now

Getting daily sunshine

Getting any amount of extremely mild exercise (perhaps floor stretches laying down would be okay for me)

Cleaning my room (I'm sure the extra dust isn't helping and the mess certainly is not helping my mental health or making it easy to stay in my room)

Resting more (i have long Covid and have been pushing it to hang with family)

Keeping a regular sleep schedule.

Humidifier (its dry af here)

Everything that I could be doing has been shown to some degree to prevent Covid or severe illness or be related to something that does.

It is never too late to pick up Covid precautions again, even if it's only a little. Anything is better than nothing.

We have no known cures for long Covid and very few medications that can treat it - and fewer yet are approved. I was "healthy" and still i got Covid over a year ago and never recovered. There is no proof that I ever will. I'm constantly tired and could likely not work a physical or in person job if my life depended on it.

Ugh. Just. Idk. Please take care of yourselves. And appreciate your body's functionality while you have it.

[snowstories]

If there's anything I loathe it's the idea that certain subjects are 'inappropriate' for children's stories. Children live in the same world as adults. Why should the world in children's books be sanitized, then? Is the absence of sex in a children's book going to stop kids from being sexually abused, or even just accidentally seeing porn on the internet? Is the non-existance of psychosis and other 'heavy' mental illnesses going to stop a child from having mental illnesses or having to deal with family members that have them? Is the absence of death going to prevent them or their loved ones from dying? Is a refusal to discuss issues like imperialism going to stop kids from being affected by it?

Children experience the same things as adults; the difference is that we refuse to give them the tools to deal with it, contextualize it. Adults talk about 'lost childhood' as if 'childhood' is an easily defined experience everyone lives – or should live – the same way. It is not. Almost no kid has this mythical idea of 'childhood' people like to taut, where they had no problems and everything was safe and simple always. Pretending otherwise is ridiculous and doesn't help kids.

Discussing 'adult' subjects in children's books lets kids access a framework in which to contextualize them. If they know what sex is, they're far more likely to understand what is happening when they are sexually abused. Discussing serious mental health issues gives them language to talk about their own mental health issues and lets them understand why mama sometimes isn't so nice even though she loves you very much. Talking about death prepares them for the death of their pets, grandparents, siblings, friends, and gives them meaningful ways to understand grief. Explaining imperialism allows them to understand the ways in which the world is unfair, gives kids a way to understand why they and/or other people are poor and mistreated, and primes them for more in-depth discussions on inequality and international relations later.

Of course you have to present these topics differently than you would for adults. Most 6-year-olds are not going to understand or care about global trade relations. As a general rule, kids are self-centered and bad at big picture/abstract thinking. A 3-year-old is not going to understand why mamma isn't buying them the huuuuuge cake they saw at the store because they don't know how to put the numbers on a price tag into perspective. When explaining complex, big-picture, and/or abstract things to children you'll have to relate it back to them or the book protagonists, make it personal and concrete so that they grasp the actual effects, even if they can't yet understand the underlying reasons why these things happen. Children's stories should adjust the framing on these things, make them approachable to kids – but that's not to say they shouldn't discuss them at all. (And no I'm not saying we should put porn in children's books. Obviously. I hate that I need to awkwardly tag this on so people don't accuse me of being a pedophile.)

Pretending that kids live in a different world from adults and thus don't need to know about 'adult' topics does nothing except protect the ego of adults. It does not help or protect kids. What helps kids is giving them a framework in which to understand the world around them, and language to describe their experiences. Kids experience 'adult' problems all the time; let them understand them.

[empirearchives]

Napoleon and Water

Excerpt from the book Aaron Burr in Exile: A Pariah in Paris, 1810-1811, by Jane Merrill and John Endicott

Aaron Burr lived in Paris for 15 months, and this book goes into detail about those years living under Napoleon’s rule. This part focuses on Napoleon’s water related reforms.

———

Napoleon’s fountains gave drinking water to the population, that is, children drank water, not beer. The water was free, not purchased. And the apartment would have had a separate water closet equipped with squat toilets (adopted from the Turks) and a bucket to wash it after use. Some restaurants and cafes had W.C.s, even one for ladies and one for gents. These were hooked into the sewer system that branched under each important street.

Napoleon merits points for delivering fresh water to Paris. If serving Paris with water from the d'Ourcq River by canals was not be a consummate success, Paris gained 40 new fountains, and the emperor commanded that fountains run all day (instead of a few limited hours) and that the water be free of charge.

Perhaps the most laudable of Napoleon’s policies were utilitarian city works, especially bringing clean water and sanitation to Paris. The improvements to infrastructure included new quays to prevent floods, new gutters and pavement, new aqueducts and fountains, and relocating cemeteries and slaughterhouses to the outskirts of the city. This was also a way of keeping up employment. An Austrian aristocrat in town during Napoleon’s wedding to Marie-Louise wrote his mother, in Vienna: “Nothing can give an idea of the immense projects undertaken simultaneously in Paris. The incoherence of it is incredible; one cannot imagine that the life of a single man would be enough to finish them.”

It was a tall order. Previous rulers had been aware of the problems and one big engineering initiative, a failed marvel, had been the waterworks at Marly, located on the banks of the Seine about seven miles from Paris. Louis XIV had it constructed to pump water from the river to his chateaux of Versailles and Marly. This was the machine marvel of its age, with 250 pumps that forced river water up a 500-foot rise to an aqueduct, and it was a sight Burr mentions going to see. By 1817 the “Marly machine” had deteriorated because it was made of wood, and the waterworks were abandoned.

Charles-Augustin Sainte-Beuve, the prominent 19th century literary critic, wrote that there had been “ten years of anarchy, sedition and laxity, during which no useful work had been undertaken, not a street had been cleaned, not a residence repaired nothing improved or cleansed.” Postrevolutionary Paris was at a nadir in terms of both the inadequate, disease-ridden water supply and the filthy streets, which were basically open sewers, deep with black mud and refuse.

“Napoleon,” writes Alistair Horne, “was obsessed by the water of Paris, and everything to do with it.”

Parisians had mostly been getting their water directly from the Seine or lining up at the scant pay fountains. In 1806, nineteen new wells for fountains were dug that flowed day and night and were free. Napoleon had a canal built 60 miles from the River Ourcq, ordering 500 men to dig it, while still a consul in 1801. It brought water to the Bassin de la Villette, opening in 1808. Some doubted the wisdom of having such an abundance of water—an oriental luxury that might incur moral decay. Now the supply of water for firefighting was also much improved. The canal had light boats, as Napoleon tried to make back some of the huge expenditure by licensing navigation, and a circular aqueduct from which underground conduits went to the central city. In 1810, there were still many water porters wheeling barrels through the city.

Now Napoleon attacked the problem of the Seine as a catchall for pollution. Parisians were so used to it that men swam naked in the river and a contemporary guidebook advised merely that the water of the Seine had no ill effects on foreigners so long as they drank it mixed with wine or a drop of vinegar. Thus houses on bridges were demolished and an immense push began to clean and modernize the city sewers.

As this book is about Aaron Burr, here is section about Burr taking inspiration by a new water related invention during his time in Paris:

Remarkably for someone who was very aware of his health, he never complained of the water. He did, however, take an interest in an invention to make it easier to dig a well. When the inventor of a process to make vinegar from the sap of any tree was not in his shop, Burr and a friend, “Crede”, went to see another invention: “We went then to see Mons. Cagniard, and his new invention of raising water and performing any mechanical operation. His apparatus is a screw of Archimedes turned the reverse, air, water, and quick silver. Cagniard was abroad; but we saw a model, and worked it, and got the report of a committee of the Institute on the subject. If the thing performs what is said I will apply it to give water to Charleston.”

[Bold italics for quotations by me]

[valiant-if]

Origin Characters Sneak Peek 2

As a follow-up to this post, here are the rest of the origin characters—

Brother (he/him)— Available to MCs with the Aspirant background. Your older brother loved serving in the Damiren military, but he decided to come home and take care of you when your parents died. He's always been a rigid man, preferring to follow rules and have everything in it's place. Despite this, he was a dedicated guardian to you, and that only changed when you left the Damiren Primacy to avoid your mandatory service.

Parent (they/them, you'll get to decide what you call them)—Available to MCs with the Aspirant background. As a single parent to you, life wasn't always easy, but they did their best to be supportive, nurturing, and loving. In leaving the Damiren Primacy to avoid your mandatory service, you had no choice but to leave them behind as well.

Brother (he/him)— Available to MCs with the Family Kid background. Your younger brother has been described as lazy and unmotivated, but you know his refusal to achieve academically was a small rebellion against Archon Systems. He works in sanitation—what most Archon citizens would consider a dregs-level job—but he always seemed happy enough there. You're certain he'd be ecstatic knowing you stole something from Archon.

Parents (their genders and pronouns vary based on your choices)— Available to MCs with the Family Kid background. Both always put supporting and raising you above their career duties, which was no small thing considering their level of connection in Archon. One is a financial advisor to the upper-echelon while the other is a legal consultant with close connections to the Archon Council. The amount of prestige they've built in their careers makes your decision to steal CAIT from Archon an especially dicey one.

Kahlil (he/him)— Available to MCs with the Refugee background. You survived the disaster on Azure together and were always each other's little reminder of home. He's usually quiet and observant, but that changes when he has a burning need for information—he spends most of his words on asking questions. Last you knew, he worked as a professor for a prestigious school on Archon Station. His position means he has high-ranking connections that could prove a danger to you if you were ever to get back in contact.

Father (he/him)— Available to MCs with the Refugee background. A quiet man with a special talent for keeping cool under pressure. As a single parent, he worked many odd jobs during your first years at Archon Station to ensure a good life for you. He only settled into a well-paying assembly job late into your teens. He's still there, working as hard as he always has, and probably wondering where you've gone.

Sibling (they/them)— Available to MCs with the Refugee background. Your sibling is close enough to you in age to feel more like a friend than just a family member. With a naturally friendly demeanor, everything always came easy to them. Their career in foreign relations is no exception. Any contact with them now might muddle your intentions in the eyes of Archon Systems.

Trisha (she/her)— Available to MCs with the Aspirant background. She was always better at art than other more "practical" skills, which made her ill-suited to life in the Damiren Primacy. Between her artistry and your acumen in technology, you made for a well-rounded pair that exposed each other to different ways of thinking. You left her behind when you fled Damiren to avoid mandatory service, and that's a decision you live with every day.

As said in the previous post, you'll be able to name the family members at some point. I may revise the current section to add in the option in the current section or I may add it in somewhere else later. Also as said in the previous post, you will be able to explore these origin relationships without going through the "bunk" segment of Chapter 3, but the presentation will be different.

[gotham25052]

Dark Waters Part 6

As the social fabric of Gotham begins to fray and the Joker's intrusion into her life escalates, Anna struggles to maintain control. But is she threatened by the Joker or by something within herself?

Contents: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

Overall fic warnings: Explicit violence and explicit sexual content.

Chapter warnings: 18+, violence, mild sexual content, heavy themes including contemplation of death, mention of morgue, body bag, funeral homes, suspected/inferred necrophilia (nothing graphic)

Author's note: Annie has some visitors at the hospital...

Dark Waters, Part 6

At first, everything that was happening blurred together for Annie at the hospital. She didn't remember very much from day to day. The parade of doctors and nurses never ended - so many faces passing by her bed. They were constantly checking her heart rate, drawing her blood, sending her for scans. An exhaustion like nothing she had felt before pursued her, and she just wanted them all to go away so that she could sleep.

She felt in the beginning like they were killing her with all the testing, but when she started to have longer breaks between coughing fits, she realized the antibiotics they were using were working. The first time she slept through the night without waking up in a struggle to breath, she felt like she was in heaven.

The sameness of the days was filled with repeated moments - breathing treatments, short walks in the hospital's hallways - until she wasn't sure how many times she had followed the same routine. But she could see from the calendar the nurses refreshed each week that about a month had passed since she entered the hospital.

She had some difficulty acting as if she was her new pseudonym, Sarah Lilton, but her usual reticence to talk and her stoicism served her well and helped her avoid mistakes when talking. Silence was her ally.

One of the doctors, the one who seemed to be in charge, she thought it was Dr. Breall - he always studied her vitals with wide eyes, as if she posed some serious danger to him. It was hard for her to understand. She didn't think she came across as very threatening, here ill in the hospital. She had no idea that the Joker had threatened this particular doctor with impromptu surgery if she didn't recover. Though, perhaps it was somewhat naive of her not to guess that some type of intimidation had happened.

The one thing that gave her an anchor in this new world was the image of the Joker in her mind. His voice, his dirty hair, it was so far removed from this sanitized existence. She dwelled on all the details of him, clinging to them like a lifeline to the outside world.

She watched the news each day on the TV in her room, hoping to catch a glimpse of him, some reminder that he was actually out there. But hardly any information about him surfaced. Instead, stories about Dent's passport system and the checkpoints took up most of the broadcasts. Little incidents had begun to happen - a small demonstration of peaceful protesters had tried to walk through a checkpoint, refusing to show their passports, and had been disbursed with tear gas and arrested. Bizarrely, a few of them were wearing clown masks - Annie could hardly believe a peaceful demonstrator was wearing the same mask as the Joker's armed thugs. But in such a divided city, the citizens of Lower Gotham seemed to be embracing anything that was against Dent's checkpoints.

The news was full of other related events. A new mother with her baby was held up for hours because she didn't have paperwork for the newborn; stores were short on inventory because of truckers' difficulty passing the border between the two halves of the city. But these events were trivial compared to the last one the news had covered - the details stayed with her and made her feel uneasy. A man had pulled out a gun when passing through the main checkpoint on the largest bridge between Lower and Upper Gotham. He had mortally wounded two of the officers staffing the booths there and was also killed himself. The story explained that he was a father with three children, an average man who had never shown any signs of violence before. Something about the situation in Gotham now had pushed this man to extremes he never would have come to otherwise. Annie wondered what would happen as the weather warmed into spring and the city's residents returned to the streets.

"Well, Sarah, you have someone famous coming to visit you today," the nurse said one morning. "Lucky lady, the best room in the hospital and important visitors." Annie's brow furrowed, her first thought of someone famous that she knew being the Joker, but knowing that the nurse wouldn't be excited about a visit from him. The nurse seemed to expect a response, so Annie responded with a hollow, "Yes, I'm very lucky." She attempted an awkward smile, but knew it must have not been convincing. The nurse just shook her head and laughed, finishing up recording her vitals for the morning.

The nurses and staff straightened up her room and encouraged her to brush her hair. There was some kind of strange excitement in the air for this visit. Annie could barely control her nerves - anything out of the ordinary was concerning to her. She had no idea how or when she would get out of this hospital, and she was constantly afraid of giving away her identity. Someone even put a bouquet of flowers on the table by her bed, but they had no meaning to her - she knew they were there just as decoration, to be inviting to whatever guest was coming. She suddenly felt quite alone, quite a lot more alone than she had felt at any time during her stay in the hospital so far.

Later that morning, her fear only increased when she saw two police officers enter the room, throwing her into a panic. She maintained the same stoic composure she had adopted for her entire stay in the hospital, but under the surface she knew she may have been discovered.

However, when the next person strode in, she knew the officers were just a security detail. It was Mayor Dent, looking much larger in life than he did on TV screens. He walked in with practiced ease, looking cheerful despite the bleak hospital walls. He sat down in the chair by her bed, and her gaze was suddenly far away, thinking of a very different person who had been there in the same chair when she first arrived.

Her faraway stare and look of concern didn't seem to phase Dent, as he regarded her and said "Good morning, Sarah, I'm sorry to be intruding on you like this," with the easiest affability in the world. She looked at him with his signature blond hair and tailored suit, everything painting the picture of a dedicated and charismatic public servant. Anyone would be disarmed by his politeness, his attractive appearance. But Annie was not just anyone, she had experience with lawyers and the legal system, and she was not so easily charmed. Her vigilance was only increased by his smooth demeanor and polite words.

"How are you feeling," he asked, seeming to really want to know the answer. She was hoping he wouldn't ask questions and was already at a loss as to how to answer. "Um, I feel good, much better," she said, looking at him anxiously. "Ok, that's good," he replied, seeming to smile away her awkwardness.

"Well, it's a beautiful day outside, hopefully you'll get to go home soon and enjoy being free from this hospital. I know you must be tired of the long stay you've had here."

She nodded silently and he shifted in his seat, clearly ready to pursue a different line of inquiry.

"Sarah, I came today to ask for your help. Do you remember… how you got to the hospital?"

Her eyes rolled to the side, already feeling suffocated. This must be why he was here. "I remember some of it, not all," she said carefully.

"Well, you must remember the man who brought you here, he would be hard to forget, with the makeup and all," another easy smile spread across Dent's face, as if he was dismissing the Joker's appearance, making light of the clown that was terrorizing Gotham.

"Yes, yes, I think it was the Joker, right? Or maybe someone pretending to be him? I've seen him on the news before. Yes, it was all very strange for me." She had at least thought about what she might say if asked about how she arrived, during her long weeks of recovery in the hospital, so she had some idea of how to respond to these types of questions. The words felt strange in her mouth, though - she had always preferred silence to lying.

"We are just wondering why he went to the trouble to bring you here. He took a huge risk when he came to this hospital. It would be odd to do that for a stranger - are you sure you've never met him before?" his face had become more serious, the interrogation skills of the lawyer becoming more apparent.

"Yes, I had just gone out to try to find a clinic, because I was so sick, and I couldn't handle the snow and fainted. I have no idea why he was there, why he brought me here. He does seem… unpredictable? Maybe it was some kind of a… joke?"

"Well, I suppose that's possible," said Dent, frustration beginning to creep into his voice. It was clear to her that he had something else up his sleeve, something he was going to throw at her. He clearly didn't believe her story.

"So Sarah… Sarah Lilton, right?" She nodded her head slowly. "Let's hear a little more about you - where did you grow up? Where do you work?" His words had become icy, and his demeanor was no longer the affable politician. He was instead the clever lawyer.

She paused, knowing she couldn't answer those questions convincingly. She took a deep breath, following her only option at this point. "I'm feeling tired, please, I don't want to answer any more questions today."

"You can't even tell me where you work?" he said with mock surprise.

Her demeanor changed too, and despite her small frame and the clear marks illness had left on her, her eyes held him in a clear, unflinching gaze. "I don't think I have to answer your questions. If you are accusing me of something, then I'll need a lawyer, please."

She could hear him exhale, his anger finally rising to the surface.

This interview had not gone in the way he had hoped, at all, he realized. How could this clown draw these types of people to him, with their insane loyalty? Dent himself didn't have those kinds of followers - his people had turned on him as soon as his popularity in the polls began to fall. How did the Joker inspire this kind of devotion? They must all be lunatics. Dent cursed the fate that had pitted him against such a foe. He wished that he could have brought his gun to the hospital, but of course that wasn't allowed. Looking at her, somehow he doubted even that would make her give him away.

He was already sitting quite close to the bed, and now his arm shot out and grabbed her wrist. He wasn't able to yell or threaten her there in the hospital, but all his anger was channeled down into his grip on her. His face contorted with stress and the effort he was putting in to squeezing her wrist. She drew in a sharp breath with the pain, feeling like her bones would break, but her gaze remained unwavering and never left his face.

He finally let go with a sigh of frustration and got up. He didn't look at her again. He spoke to the officers at the door. "As soon as she's well enough, book her, get her down to the station. She goes directly from the hospital to the station." He walked out of the room, resuming his usual easy manner, so that the doctors and nurses didn't even know what had happened. They had been remarking on how their patient and Dent could have almost been brother and sister, or even an attractive couple, with their similarly light colored hair (though hers was slightly darker than his) and delicate features. They both looked almost angelic.

She had felt somewhat trapped before, not knowing how she would leave, but now the hospital became a prison for her. She knew they would come for her, and from there, she knew that the police could bypass some of her legal rights if they submitted her for a psychiatric evaluation and deemed her to be Arkham material. All her fears of the mental institution flooded back now, and she began to wish the Joker had left her there in the snow. She only knew the rumors about Arkham, but they were enough for her to recognize that she wouldn't survive there.

She didn't completely lose hope that there would be a way out, but any expectation of freedom seemed very doubtful with the increased security that seemed to have begun after Dent's visit. The false kindness of his words also stayed with her. It was frightening to see the monster behind a man with such a good public image and wholesome appearance.

The flowers at her bedside were starting to wilt. She wondered if they would come and discard it, or if she should try to take care of it. She hadn't paid any attention to it, assuming it was some kind of decor that was meant to make her room more attractive for Dent's visit. But now, regarding it, she noticed it was quite an unusual collection of flowers - dark purple irises next to yellow lilies and pale pink roses - the colors clashed more than they complimented one another. She studied it more closely, noticing that there was a note in the small plastic holder. She reached out and took it, her curiosity now taking over. She opened it and read the simple message, "Wait for me."

Somehow it made sense that he would have left a message for her hidden in plain sight. She held it close to her for a moment, feeling warmed from within knowing that he was working on a way to get her out. She came back to herself and realized she needed to hide it. She placed the message in her waistband - she realized the best thing to do would be to flush it. At this point it was possible they would be going through the wastebaskets in the room.

It was late afternoon, the time that the janitors usually came around to the rooms to clean the floors and bathrooms. She often observed them working, just as a distraction from the boredom of being stuck in bed. Today she quickly realized that something was different - only one person entered the room.

He had his back to her, but she recognized him immediately from the smooth lines of his tall form. She might also have noticed it was him from the strange, abrupt way he mopped. Somehow it looked like the mop was guiding him instead of him guiding the mop. Otherwise he looked very much like anyone else in the hospital - he had his curly hair pulled back, erasing its unique texture, and there wasn't a hint of green in it.

She gasped as a nurse walked into the room, and she quickly looked away from his figure in the corner, not wanting to draw attention to him. The nurse took care of the equipment around her, noting the various readings from the monitors. "Your heart rate is high, Sarah, are you feeling all right?" she asked.

"Um, yes, just - I think I had a nightmare, like a flashback to when I was out there in the snow," Annie stumbled out.

"Yes, you have been through a lot. I'll check on it again later."

Annie closed her eyes and turned toward the wall to avoid talking further. She wasn't sure when the nurse left, but she realized there must be no one else in the room when she felt his face in her hair, his nose pressed to her scalp as he gathered the rest of it in handfuls and brought it around his face.

She would have been surprised if she could have read his thoughts. In fact, when he found her, seeing her hair strewn out on the snow had affected him in a way he didn't fully understand. He was the Joker, he personally sliced open bodies without a second thought, nothing phased him. Maybe it was some suppressed memory, or something about the contrast of the warm color of her hair on the unforgiving whiteness of the snow, but the image had stayed with him and allowed him little rest. Now he just wanted to feel it around him, to feel her warmth in the strands.

She stayed motionless, unsure of what to do and how to respond. He finally pulled back, though his face was still quite close as he knelt there by the bed. She turned her head to look at him. He had none of his usual makeup, his face naked in a way that had surprised her before on the rocky seawall. The surgical mask he had likely been wearing while cleaning was pulled down under his chin, revealing the familiar outline of his scars.

Her eyes ran over the jagged, protruding marks branching back from his lips. Here in the hospital they just looked like mundane injuries, injuries that needed to be fixed. They were old wounds that had hurt him, weakened him. She suddenly understood some small part of why he painted his face. The paint made the scars a prominent mark of his identity, something that distinguished him and struck fear into the viewer. They were no longer just a damaged echo from his past.

But the origin of his scars seemed too intimate, too personal, for her to dwell on. Despite her new understanding of her own feelings, he was still a remote being for her, hard to grasp. Her eyes explored the rest of his face. He looked tired, worn, dark circles under his eyes, his face washed-out and colorless.

She didn't know what to say, but she felt somehow responsible for the challenges he was facing in the effort to get her out of the hospital. "I'm sorry I did this…. I'm sorry I put you in this situation," she said guiltily.

"Shhh, no kitten, this is fun for me, I like a challenge," he said quietly, a toothy smile overtaking the normality of his face and making it clear he was no less than the Joker, even with the makeup off.

"What's this," he said, suddenly picking up her arm. His eyes had caught the discolored ring around her wrist, the bruise spreading black and red on her pale skin away from where Dent had held her several days before. "Have they changed medical practices recently? Is this some new treatment?"

"It's nothing, it will be gone in a week. Please, don't worry about it." She pleaded with him, knowing that she didn't want to stoke the fires between him and Dent any further. She feared that the explosion that would happen when the two met would blow them both away.

"Mmm hmmm," he said noncommittally. "Dent did this, didn't he? My people here on the inside, they told me he visited you. I guess it didn't end too well." His eyelids half closed and his expression became completely blank, in a way she had not seen before. But she knew instinctively that this must be his look when he was in his most dangerous of moods.

"Forget it, please," she repeated, and he shook off the trance he had been in for a moment. "Ok, kitten, we don't have much time. We have to go over the plan to get you out of here."

He stayed on his knees by the bed, looking at her and combing her hair back with his fingers, reordering it after he had messed it up so badly wrapping it around his face.

"It's going to be difficult, getting you out. Dent has gotten smarter, meaner."

He took a strand of hair and smoothed it back carefully behind her ear.

He quietly shared the details of what would happen, and she grew more and more alarmed. "No clothes?" she said. He nodded and continued to explain, and she was liking the plan less and less as he went. He pulled a small vial from the pocket of the scrubs he was wearing and placed it in her hand. "This will help, it will make your skin paler and will slow your breathing."

"Will I be asleep?"

"No, not exactly. You'll just feel very… sluggish. And this too" he pulled out another small container. She opened it, revealing a bluish cream. "Just put a little around your eyes and on your lips. It won't fool someone experienced, but for anyone not really paying attention, it will work." The idea of being put in this situation terrified her, and she showed it on her face.

"Listen, Annie, you know as well as me that the first thing they'll do is send you to Arkham. I don't know exactly what you've heard, but it's ten times worse than any of the rumors about it. This is our best chance to get you out of here."

She sighed. "I'll do it. I don't know if it will work."

"It will work," he said. "I'm stacking the odds in your favor."

He was finishing with the final few strands of her hair, taking them back away from her face.

"You follow my plan this time, but I'm telling you something you should remember - you should never trust someone else's plan. Next time, you make your own plan, and then you have a second plan ready if that one fails too. That's the only way to survive in this world."

She looked at him, confused. She could barely handle the plan he had given her.

It was clear that he would have to leave now that he had finished sharing the details with her. Every second he was here added to the risk that he would be discovered.

She wondered how he would say goodbye - they both knew there was something between them, but there was certainly no precedent for what to do in such a strange relationship, in as unromantic a setting as a hospital. She looked at him with wide eyes, dwelling on his face and worried that she may never make it out of the hospital at all. He began to rise to leave, but while still on his knees, he brought his face to the side of her head and came close to her ear, the ear he had so carefully uncovered while smoothing back her hair. She felt his lips brush against it, and then his teeth gently closed on her earlobe, sending a chill down her neck. He quickly withdrew and walked backwards, grabbing the mop, his smile disappearing as he placed the surgical mask back over the lower half of his face. He became anonymous again with the addition of the mask and turned around, disappearing quickly into the hallway.

She thought she had felt alone before. Now she truly did.

She was glad that only a week had passed between the time she learned about the plan and the time she woke from a nap in the evening to the nurse's aide whispering, "It's time." She had dreaded the day and simply wanted to get it over with, whatever the outcome.

She had seen this aide before, but never knew that she was working for the Joker. "Ok," said Annie, with little else that she could say or do. She had gone over the tasks she needed to complete several times before in her mind. Drink the contents of the vial, put on a little of the blue makeup… After her first experience with one of the Joker's concoctions, that time involuntarily, she was very reluctant to take it. But she recalled the reason for all this, and the threat of Arkham, and she drank it in one swallow. The mild sweet taste caught her by surprise. But she soon felt dizzy and knew she didn't have a lot of time. She dabbed on the makeup and took off the flimsy hospital gown, hesitating for a moment before she placed herself into the cold plastic of the body bag on the gurney that the aide had brought. The dizziness was becoming overwhelming now, and the nurse's aide looked down on her with a concerned expression. Annie managed to say, "Please help, zip it for me?" And the aide complied, zipping up the bag almost but not completely, as she'd been instructed, but not before she tied on the toe tag.

Annie lay in the dark inside the bag, all of her senses numbed somewhat and her powers of movement slowed. But she could feel the gurney being pushed down the hallway and into an elevator. She knew they would be heading to the hospital morgue, the transit point that the Joker's escape plan centered around. According to him, they would just check the tag and place her into a compartment, almost like a drawer. She felt completely powerless and the dizziness was now joined by nausea, making everything worse.

The gurney finally halted, and Annie heard the aide talking to someone, a man. It sounded like this was where she was being handed off at the morgue. All was silent for a while, and then she heard the man's voice somewhere at a distance, saying, "Ok, good sir, there you go. All tucked in for the night." Was there someone else in the room? Her thinking was dulled a bit just like her movements, but she finally put together that he must be talking to the bodies. Was he inspecting them before he closed the morgue for the night? He seemed to have nicknames for each one, which was quickly becoming disturbing.

She suddenly heard the sound of the zipper above her face and used all the self-control she had to stay as still as she could. He unzipped it all the way down to her feet, and she felt the cold air of the morgue hit her naked skin. "Oh, a young one, this is out of the ordinary…" the man began, immediately putting her on alert. She could feel him near her shoulder - he must have been taking a strand of her hair in his hand. "And such pretty hair." She could only guess that he must be staring at her, and she knew the gig was up. If he touched her skin, there was no way she could remain still. Her movements might be slow and awkward, but she would most definitely give herself away. The Joker's plan would be up in smoke, and she was sure the security around her would be heightened a thousandfold with this escape attempt.

She was surprised to feel a cold line under on her upper lip, like someone holding a piece of metal there. She still managed to stay motionless, but knew it couldn't bode well. The feeling disappeared and she knew the man must be gone. She didn't dare open her eyes.

The man had left her there, poking his head out into the hallway. "Hey Dr. Breall, is this one of your patients? She's here in the morgue, but she seems to be breathing." He pulled the doctor in from the hallway. "Oh my God," he said, when he saw the fog on the mirror the man held below her nose.

Dr. Breall wasn't stupid, he guessed this was some plan the Joker had to get her out. And the sooner she was out of his care, the sooner he would be off the hook with the Joker's threat. He turned his attention from Annie to the man, a decisive look taking over his panicked face. He would take a risk in an effort to keep himself out of trouble.

"Look, Ethan, I've had my suspicions about you down here in this morgue. Your job is to check the toe tags and put them in the drawer, that's it. So why is the bag completely unzipped on this body? I may be able to turn a blind eye to whatever you do down here if you listen and do what I say: you take this body, and you put it in a drawer like you would usually do, but don't you dare lay a finger on it. Just leave it be, don't pay any attention to it. My life is on the line here, so you better be sure if you do anything differently, I'll have your name plastered in the papers with whatever you do down here. Do you understand?"

"I don't do anything wrong…"

"Maybe you don't. But if the overseeing doctor of Gotham General accuses you of something, how do you think that will end up for you?"

"Yeah, I understand." She could hear the zipper being closed and she felt some relief at simply being covered again, though it was small comfort with such a thin protection.

She soon felt the hard platform she was lying on raised and placed on another surface, and then all the light she could see through the slots in the zipper were gone and she was in complete darkness, cold and silent. It was clear with the receding sounds and doors closing that the morgue attendant had finally left for the night. She was afraid of falling asleep in the cold, with the effects of the drug she had taken. She was frightened that she may never wake up. She hardly knew she was doing it, but suddenly she realized she had gone far back, deep into her mind, and she was reciting verses she remembered from her youth. They didn't hold particular meaning or comfort for her in this situation, but the simple act of remembering and keeping her lips moving refreshed her and kept her from sleep.

It would have been quite terrifying if a bystander had walked into the morgue that night. If they listened very carefully, they would have heard whispered verses, enunciated clearly and quietly, from the more unsettling parts of the Bible, from Revelation, from Job. She went through all the verses she knew that night. She was one of those who had memorized several books of the Bible, so it kept her occupied for much of the night. Luckily, no one entered to hear the muffled whispers in the otherwise still metal room.

Morning finally came. New staff had arrived at the hospital morgue for the day shift, and hearing voices lifted Annie's spirits. The drug also seemed to be wearing off, making her feel more aware and able to move freely. She would have to hope that they did not unzip the bag to look at her. The voices came closer to the compartment she was in and began to open the drawer. She made an effort to breath as shallowly as possible to avoid giving herself away. Luckily, they seemed to not be paying much attention to her.

"Huh, Langendecker funeral home? I've never seen this one," a man's voice said. Another man answered, "Well, they seem pretty anxious to get this body, they said the family wants the funeral as soon as possible."

"Ok, well, whatever." One of them opened the bag from the bottom to check the toe tag, making it clear that it was a two-way zipper. The fact that the morgue's night attendant had opened the zipper from the top became even more disturbing in her mind.

"Yeah, that matches. Ok, lets get it out there and be done with this one at least." She felt them lift the bag onto some other surface, and then she was being wheeled through some large room in the morgue. When they reached the loading dock doors and headed outside, the sunlight filtered through the gaps in the zipper and the stripe of light gave her hope that she was done with her ordeal.

She felt herself being transferred yet again. One of the morgue staff asked, "Langendecker, you guys new in the area or something?"

"Oh, we're based more on the outskirts of town, you probably haven't heard of us before," a new voice answered.

They seemed to have loaded her into a vehicle. In another few minutes, she could feel movement and knew they were leaving. She felt more relieved the more the distance grew between her and the hospital, though the deep cold that she had felt throughout the night and the strange aftereffects of the drug made also made her ill. Someone unzipped the bag over her face and the sun blinded her. Her hands involuntarily went up to her face to protect them from the onslaught of light. "Kitten, it's me," his familiar voice said. She leaned back, now allowing the shivering that had been building all night to break out with vigor. He took a blanket he seemed to have brought for the occasion and draped it over her as he unzipped the bag. She quickly picked up on what was happening and wrapped the blanket around herself, both for warmth and to cover her body. She was sitting next to him in a large van, shelves arranged on one side - it must be a funeral home's van, meant for transporting bodies from the hospital. She was thankful it was empty except for the Joker and his men.

"Here, sit up. Drink this." he said, handing her a thermos. "It's a great antidote."

"I don't know if I want to drink any of the things you mix up," she said, her teeth chattering. "Just drink," he said, smiling.

She took a cautious sip. "Is this… hot chocolate?"

"Yeah, it is. It helps, trust me. I tried that stuff you had a few weeks ago. It's awful."

The familiar warm taste did seem to chase away the remaining numbness that the drug had induced, and warmed her from the relentless cold that had plagued her at night.

He seemed to be in a delighted mood; she wasn't sure if it was because he had gotten her out or because he had fooled Dent again. She suspected it was probably a combination of the two. He must have decided the occasion was worth his full attire - he was wearing his suit, purple jacket, everything - and his face seemed freshly painted.

"The woman who helped me - will she be all right?" Annie asked.

"Well, she wouldn't be, if she was still here, but she is flying to back to her home country right now, to her family, a very wealthy woman now. It's what she wanted, for her help," he answered, giving Annie some consolation. She didn't want to be personally responsible for someone else's imprisonment.

"I brought you some clothes, kitten. You really don't have much to choose from, you know."

The trivial topic of her wardrobe struck her as incredibly out of place considering the ordeal she had just been through. She took the shirt and pants he handed her.

"Go ahead," he said casually. Her eyes roamed over to him and then to the other two men in the back of the van, and then up to the driver. He rolled his eyes. "Ok, kitten, we'll find a way."

He went up to the front and talked to the driver, who pulled over into a small, empty parking lot.

"We have to stay here in the van. We don't want you on any security cameras in the city."

"Uh, everyone look away, the kitten is going to change." The men looked confused but when they saw the Joker's face, they moved to the front and started smoking together. "Give me the blanket. Come on, I'm not looking." He turned his head and closed his eyes, holding his arms out for the blanket, looking incredibly comical in his intimidating attire in such an unusual posture. She unwrapped the blanket from around her body and placed one corner in each of his hands. She put on the shirt and pants, thankful to be covered in normal clothing again.

"Are you done?" he drawled impatiently. "Yes," she said, pulling the blanket from his hands and wrapping it around her shoulders. "Let's go, to the exchange," he yelled to the front, and the driver took off again.

They drove for a while longer, until they found themselves on one of the subterranean streets of Gotham. These places always frightened Annie - she avoided them when alone, but often saw them through the bus windows as she commuted from home to work. They came to an area that was mostly free of onlookers, except for one seemingly homeless man wandering near an abandoned car. The funeral van pulled up right next to the car, the Joker announcing, "Time to move."

The men quickly exited the funeral van, getting into the car. The Joker took Annie by the arm, guiding her into the car, and they were soon speeding away again. Looking back, Annie saw the van suddenly burst into flame. The man under the bridge must have been instructed to burn it once they were far enough away. It occurred to her that it must have taken a huge amount of planning to get her out safely and she looked at the Joker, in awe of his ability to work miracles like this. She realized she didn't have to be Sarah anymore and breathed a sigh of relief, leaning her head back in the seat and closing her eyes. He glanced over at her, a knowing smile on his face, and then resumed watching the city go by out his window.

"You're home," she heard him say, and woke up - she must have dozed off in the car.

"Home?" she said, confused.

"Yeah, your apartment…" She came back to herself, realizing they were indeed pulled up in front of her apartment building. It felt very strange to be back. He took her arm and helped brace her as she walked up the steps - she was still unsteady on her feet. "You're not worried about being seen?" she asked, looking around them. "No, kitten, we took out the security cameras around your apartment months ago. And we're in Lower Gotham now." He pointed into the distance, where a small group of young men was gathered on a corner. A couple of them wore clown masks, and it was hard to tell, but it looked like one wore the distinctive white, black, and red clown makeup. "Copycats," he said, "No one knows who the real one is now."

She let the information sink in, feeling like she had landed back in some alien world, not her own small corner of Gotham. But if there were gangs of disorderly clowns roaming the streets, it was hardly more dangerous to her than the police would be now. And the way he was supporting her gave her comfort, making her feel protected in this new world. As they finally came to her door and opened it, she realized that he and his men must have cleaned up the mess she had left here when she was ill.

He took her by the hand, the unusual gesture sending warmth up through her arm. His hands were so warm without the gloves. He must have taken them off. He sat her on the bed, and took a place beside her. He put his hand on the side of her neck, guiding her chin upward and turning her face toward him gently. His fingers touched her ear and his thumb glided over her unmarked cheek, feeling the smooth unbroken skin. His steadfast gaze and absolute concentration on her hit her deeply. Everything around them seemed to stop - she wouldn't have been surprised if the clock on her bedstand had ceased its endless ticking. "I want you to rest. I want you to get stronger," he told her, his voice wrapping around her like velvet. "I'm going to go now, you tell my guys outside if you need anything."

He began to rise from the bed, but she didn't let go of his hand.

He turned back, sitting down beside her again. She saw his eyes scanning over her face, and knew he must be realizing what a mess she had made with the makeup he had given her. It suddenly occurred to her that she must look hideous, with the blanched skin that probably still remained as an effect of the drug and her already hollowed-out countenance from her illness. She looked away, embarrassed. Her eyes darted back to him quickly though, when she felt his breath on her skin and his lips pressed against hers. They looked at one another, each wanting to see the other so close like this. The green and brown sparks danced in his dark eyes - they reminded her of the first time he held her in the ballroom. His eyes were so much more familiar now, but she still didn't understand the fire behind them.

The makeup on his lips gave them a strange slippery feel, but with the softness and warmth of them, she quickly grew accustomed to the feeling and the waxy taste that entered her mouth. She was surprised when he pulled back and reached up with his free hand, pulling down her lower lip. She half smiled, wondering what he was doing. "They're crooked," he said, running his thumb over her bottom row of teeth.

"They didn't believe in going to the dentist, where I grew up," she explained.

"Why?" he asked.

"Well… they believe that God should heal you if you have a problem. No doctors, no dentists," she said slowly, looking down, clearly remembering some unfortunate consequences of that belief. It was something more serious than crooked teeth, though it was hard to tell if her memory related to her own past or some other unfortunate soul's experience in that community.

"I like it," he said, bringing his face close to hers again. "I'm glad God didn't heal you." Their lips met and she could feel his tongue run along her teeth. They both closed their eyes this time, lost in their concentration. The hands they had been holding slowly fell to the bed as all their focus centered around the kiss. His hand surrounded hers and he pushed it down into the mattress distractedly.

The warmth of his lips, the light touch of his fingers on her neck, she didn't want it to end. It was a wonderful antidote to the numbing medicine she had taken in the hospital and the bleakness of the cold drawer she had spent the night in.

She felt so different about the way he kissed her - in her past experience, she had been kissed greedily, guiltily, as if her husband had wanted to take something away from her. This kiss was the opposite - it was warm, generous. It was as if he wasn't taking anything from her but instead giving her everything. She was completely lost in it. In some corner of her mind she recognized the absurdity of the worst criminal mastermind in the history of the city, having a kiss that was so delicate and accommodating to her. Or, the strange thought flitted across her brain, still overwhelmed by the day's events and the aftereffects of the drug she had taken, perhaps the devil's kiss is always sweet…

She curled her legs up onto the bed, drawing her knees beside him, hardly noticing she was doing it. She wanted to be closer to him, she wanted to wrap herself around him.

He drew back, his eyelids drooping, a warm breath passing out through his open lips. His expression was unsettlingly reminiscent of the look of extreme anger he had when he saw the mark Dent had left on her arm in the hospital. The intense feelings of hatred and lust both seemed to shape his features the same way - giving him a serious countenance and half-closed eyes.

He brought his hand up to smooth back his unruly hair, shifting his expression.

"Are you seducing me, kitten?" he asked lightly, turning his head and looking at her from the corners of his eyes.

He slid down to sit on the floor beside the bed and gave her a gentle push with his free hand, urging her to lie down. "Go to sleep now, I'll stay here for a while. Just sleep."

She obediently lay down on her side, allowing her gaze to roam over his hand around hers and explore the intricate colors of his hair. She felt like she was feasting, seeing him so close there. She was incredibly tired, and yet she was enjoying the free reign she was giving herself to look at him. His eyes finally rolled up to meet hers, as if he was telling her that playtime was over. She finally let her eyes close, and sleep quickly overtook her exhausted body.

When she woke up the next day, he wasn't there, but she found a white and red blur where his face had been, on the sheet hanging down over the mattress. She remembered the time she had sat in the same position all night long, when he had slept in her bed, so long ago. It seemed like lifetimes ago now. She knelt beside the bed, running her hand over the smear of makeup, wondering when she would see him again.

Additional notes: The hot chocolate is my nod to holiday cheer. :)

[spoiler alert] Sorry about the morbid aspects, but I thought there are two ways out of the hospital, and the morgue seemed more interesting than the front door.

This is fanfic, so of course I don't own any characters from The Dark Knight (Joker, Batman, etc.). The main female character is original.

[jester-lover]

hello!!! Not sure if you still do requests but could I request Tim wright from marble hornets as a father figure to emo/scene kid teens <33

(I centered this request in a post-series context)

Tim as a father figure to an emo/scene kid ( PLATONIC !!! )

CWs/ mental illness, treatment of mental illness, smoking, substances, alcohol, minor violence, bittersweet fluff (not proofread)

Firstly, Tim is surprised that anyone sees him as a paternal figure to any degree. After the shock fades, he’s kinda proud of himself and the fact that he’s got it together enough for someone to see him as a parental figure.

🎞️Most of the bonding time you and Tim have is spent out in the yard of whatever place you call home, sharing pitchers of ice cold sweet tea in the humid Alabama heat.

🎞️Tim’s life experience has proved him to be a good mentor in all things related to mental health and finding good coping skills. He’ll try his best to discourage substance abuse and encourage you to make good decisions when it comes to finding friends.

🎞️He’ll teach you some valuable practical life skills as well, stuff he’s picked up over the years and over his torment with the operator. Mostly small security measures and self defense tactics.

🎞️Starts a lot of his stories with “Back in my day…” and an overdramatized sigh because he knows you get a kick out of it. He does try to sanitize some of the more serious stuff he’s seen.

🎞️More often than not, Tim enjoys whatever emo/scene music you’re into, and gives you free rein over the aux cord whenever he’s picking you up/dropping you off at school.

🎞️You can trust that he’s perceptive towards your interests, he always remembers to get you band tees and fun stuff for your birthday and any other holiday you celebrate.

🎞️Tim would never undermine your issues as ‘teen angst’ or moodiness, because if anyone can understand emotional distress, it’s him.

🎞️ Even if he smokes, he’ll advise you against it; being a responsible adult and all.

🎞️ Maybe gets a little bit teary eyed every time he sees you enjoying your life with your friends, he’s just so happy his kid is getting everything he couldn’t.

🎞️He’s definitely the dad standing around the back of hardcore shows cheering on his kid as they pummel people in the pit, sometimes he even joins in.

🎞️The fact that you’re an emo/scene kid would also make Tim nostalgic about his own college days and the emo/scene people he hung around.

🎞️If he finds out his kid is getting bullied, Tim is the type of parent to support retaliation. He doesn’t like seeing people get kicked around, and will always encourage you to speak up.

🎞️At the end of the day, I think Tim would make a great dad/father figure, and raise his scemo spawn up to be a relatively healthy and content adult with whom he spends time with and speaks to regularly. His own mistakes ceased to define him when he had you to worry about.

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for pretending to be cis online? im a trans man and have been trans for almost ten years now. i am pre-most transition even though i would like to fully transition, due to money and medical phobia complications. i do not pass irl.

a few years ago i attempted stealth (saying i was a cis man) on a discord server before ultimately admitting to being trans because i was afraid everyone could tell, and was informed that even though they even heard my voice on the server, no one there suspected i was afab, and even when i said i was trans, some people assumed i was coming out as transfem, because i had passed myself as a cis man so well. this gave me euphoria, of course, and made me regret telling anyone since i was apparently passing so well.

i held onto those feelings, and a year or so after that, quietly changed my bios and stuff to remove the trans part. a little while after that, i started actively saying i was cis male in my bios and to new friends.

i should clarify this is not out of safety or fear of transphobia, all my family and irl friends know im trans and are 100% supportive, im lucky enough to live in a very progressive area, and my online existence is small and filled with tons of trans and supportive people. it's only because i feel dysphoric when i know people can perceive me as afab, and since i don't have control over that irl, i just want someone in the world to see me as amab, even if im not and never will be.

i also am not by any means a transmed. i myself am also gnc, and many many of my friends are loud and proud queer weirdos, and i am too with everything but my agab. i love the wacky ways other trans folks present their genders and refuse to sanitize themselves for cisciety. i do not think anyone should ever have to water down who they are for any reason and i don't think being afab makes anyone less of a man, just i personally don't like facing the fact that i am afab and would rather people see me as a cis man whenever i can control it.

this might be where the asshole comes in here, because being gnc, being surrounded by so many trans people and being in many "afab dominated" spaces (such as fanfic writers, tumblr, fandom in general honestly) as well as having a lot of trans headcanons makes me paranoid people are going to clock me and even if they don't say anything they'll know im faking being cis. because of that, and to avoid the dreaded "egg" conversations (people trying to insist or imply that ill soon "find out" that im transfem) ive sometimes been telling people when the subject comes up that i had experimented with my gender before and thought i was transfem or nonbinary in the past, so i sort of fit the idea of cis+ and that might be why i feel more trans than cis even though im definitely cis.

i also tell them im intersex and have trans family (both of these are true, though obviously im intersex in a different way than i say) to get them off my scent.

i know i dont owe anyone my agab, but when all is said and done, i am lying about my gender and history with gender exploration, and i kinda feel like im disrespecting other trans folks by implying it would personally feel better to be cis, like i can't relate to other trans people saying they never want to be cis and the goal of being trans isn't to be cis. but i do. i also worry that having trans hcs (including in sexual contexts) for characters while im presenting myself as cis makes people think im a chaser.

anyway sorry this is long, but aita for lying about my gender?

What are these acronyms?

[goodobservationshirley]

Did you go into your conversations with Rebecca knowing she would be a character in the show, or was that something you were still trying to figure out? I really wanted to make her a character. She had done a few interviews where she talked about the way she dove into the world of these teenagers to write this. This woman in her 20s went and did what no journalist, no cop, and no lawyer was able to do, which is get the real truth of what happened. It was a big priority for Hulu that the show have an adult perspective, and she felt like an obvious place to start. Then we would have an opportunity to comment on the nature of true crime and what it does to somebody who immerses themselves in that.

Was she onboard with being a character in the series? I was so scared because the ask was quite personal. In an interview I read before I met her, she talked about her trauma from childhood. I knew we were going to need to delve into that if she was going to be a character in the show. She was really open to it.

She knew she was terminally ill from the time that I met her; she told me a handful of months into knowing her. I think there was an element of knowing she was at the end of her life. She was very ready to allow me to go to her most personal places and put that on the screen. Every time I turned in an episode outline to her, I’d be spinning out on the other side, like, Oh God, this is so fucking personal, and then she would send back her notes and they would just be about a line Josephine says. She never seemed to feel a real pressure to want the character to be hyper-lovable or sanitized. She taught a course on anti-heroines, so when I was like, “Hey, sometimes she’s gonna be more of an anti-hero,” she was like, “I love that.”

The character Rebecca’s feelings about her brother are an important part of the show and one of the reasons she’s able to relate to these kids so much, especially Warren, the only boy accused in the crime. Was that something Rebecca was feeling at the time and just didn’t put it in the book because she wasn’t a character herself? I think Rebecca was processing some of that during our development. In the first conversation we had about how directly the show was linked to her loss of her brother, she said that a lot of people in her life had suggested that Warren must have reminded her of her brother because she lost her brother when he was the exact same age. The final conversations I had with her right before she passed were about the fact that in the end, she realized that it was more about what she saw of herself in him than anything else. She felt that so much of his way of moving through the world would be shaped forever by guilt. I think her quest to make people understand how someone can do a bad thing came from a place of feeling like she had been capable of bad things when she was a kid.

[bokujou-monogatari]

So about this series and localization;

Ok, to start this off let me say I do not work in localization. It's not my department. I -do- work in video game development, but in production management and quality. That said, I work -with- loc teams, know people outside of my workplace that do loc, and have mad respect for the localization profession within the industry.

And, this is all a personal perspective again! I mean no ill intent in what I'm about to say. It's merely observational, and I could have an incorrect understanding and I own up to that in the circumstances!

This is probably going to get a little long, and it's a bit of a nuanced conversation. I appreciate everyone who reads to the end though!

Well, where to begin?

The 90s and early 2000s produced media in which culturally relevant aspects were largely changed to suit the audience taking in the media....but in some cases, that didn't hit the mark at all.

Are you familiar with jelly donuts? A long time example in infamy, Brock Pokemon's Jelly Donuts were a product of a time when localization efforts in western media were wholly focused on providing a digestible media experience to a western - rather, American-focused - audience. (Another example that was shown on the big screen was the original Digimon Movie!)

"But wait! Isn't the point of localization to make things relatable to the target audience?!"

Yyyyes! But there's an asterisk here.

In this case, breaking it down:

Bad localization = "Jelly Donuts", and the art remains unchanged.

Good localization = "rice balls", and the art remains unchanged.

Good localization = "Jelly Donuts", and the post processing changes the art to jelly donuts.

Bad localization in this example strips the intent of the media by pigeonholing a westernized regurgitation without respect to the origin and attempting to call it by another name -- erasing the cultural significance that it provides. Let me explain; A food item that may be a staple in many American (specifically Asian-American) households for ages... Do those households call them jelly donuts? Of course not!

90s and early 2000s media was largely at fault of bad localization with a movement based around the idea that a western audience needed those westernized concepts for the audience to be able to fully relate and immerse themselves in what they were digesting.

In essence, it was easier at the time for someone depicted drinking ramune to actually be "drinking a Coke" in dialogue, because everyone knows coke is a soda/fizzy drink. (That's only an example, and I hope it's understandable!)

On the other hand, -Good- localization either provides an equally significant replacement (such as replacing the art with actual jelly donuts) or calling things what they are outright as they represent a culture portrayed.

To reiterate, good localization does justice to the original tone, atmosphere and intent by either substituting an audience society-based equivalent that makes sense contextually OR by telling the audience exactly what is going on in the media's world context using words that can explain it to the audience while preserving that cultural significance.

"OP I'm not seeing how this relates to Bokumono..."

Well, this series was created in 1996, and localization began in 1996-7. And unfortunately, California-based Natsume Inc. was not exempt from those weird "sanitize it for the American audience" views. In their attempt to "make everyone happy...", there were many things that contributed to a less than ideal localization per game from Natsume.

For a long time, Natsume localization was done largely in part through an outsource localization company called Pole to Win. If you're in the light novel and otome venn diagram of fandoms, you'll know that Pole to Win is pretty damn infamous for its bad loc, cheaper labor based on underpaid and over exploited workers (largely based in SEA), and the heavy usage of and reliance on Machine Translation. Some loc work on games leading up to 2012 was done in-house, but a large reason why we have so many Natsumeisms is due to lack of quality and care in the localization process.

Alongside poor localization efforts and the drive to sanitize content for an American audience, there was extra effort in making the content "family friendly" by removing anything that was "out of the norm" for the time. I don't think I need to explain what that means, but it's what led to things like the removal of the Best Friends system (girl x girl marriage) in DS Cute and Julius in Animal Parade being "a man of average height" in the English dialogue. This family friendly movement applied to other media as well in the same time period, but for the sake of being on topic it largely applied to Natsume's approach in localizing the series.

"So what was lost?"

Well, in addition to what I just said above...

Names which were meant to reflect specific cultures referenced in the games based off of existing world cultures were changed.

For example, a Chinese-based character in Sunshine Islands; English Players know her as Lily. Her true name is スイレン Suiren. (Suiren is the name of a famous Chinese hero of legend, as well as the name of a species of Water Lily!) The name was derived literally, instead of staying as Suiren to reflect her heritage; Lily was the "easier" and "more digestible" translation.

I recently posted translations of Grand Bazaar characters with their true names. Grand Bazaar is VERY largely Danish, with Nordic/Baltic influence from Poland, Lithuania, Belarus, and some bits of Mexico, Greece, Austria-Hungary, and France sprinkled in.

As a result, the names given to characters were from those particular regions. Ivan's true name is Juris (the J is Germanic, pronounced with a Y like You) for instance. The average American isn't going to meet someone called Juris often, however, so the name was changed to "fit".

I'm largely of the opinion that names are sacred and innate parts of the Character Core. A name was given to them for a reason, and it would be like going up to Sasuke from Naruto/Boruto and saying "hey man, I'm just going to call you Steve, ok? Cool."

Since we have changed Localization companies to XSEED, Marvelous' English subsidiary, the quality and care put into the localization has drastically improved.

Names are (usually!) 1:1 counterparts - as in romanized - or their very closest equivalents.

Examples being: Cam from Natsume's Tale of Two Towns loc, who is actually カミル and was localized properly in Story of Seasons 3DS with his true name as Kamill / Dudley from the Friends of Mineral Town remake - whose original name is ダッド (Dadd) and was Doug in the Natsume Loc.

Dialogue throughout the game now reflects original tones and intent with some embellished flair here in there, but never to remove - only to add!

I'm not going to get into a conversation about censors and ESRB ratings at this time (Blue Bar to Cafe type of example), but I'm so glad that we have reached a point where we no longer have totally misrepresented cultural aspects in the games.

[allthebrazilianpolitics]

Lack of sanitation raises health spending and hinders childhood in Brazil

Brazil reported last year 344,400 hospitalizations due to diseases from lack of treated water and proper sewage collection

Diseases linked to inadequate sanitation, summarized by the Portuguese-language acronym DRSAI, resulted in 344,400 hospital admissions in Brazil in 2024, according to a groundbreaking study by think tank Instituto Trata Brasil.

Maranhão registered the worst figures of DRSAI per 10,000 inhabitants, although all regions reported concerning numbers, with the Federal District being the second-worst despite being home to the nation’s capital.

The study reveals that each hospitalization due to diseases related to untreated water and improper sewage disposal cost an average of R$506.32 in 2024. Consequently, the public health system (SUS) had to bear approximately R$174 million for treating DRSAI, which are diseases largely preventable through universal basic sanitation.

Among the primary diseases associated with this issue are those transmitted via fecal-oral routes, such as diarrhea, salmonellosis, cholera, amoebic dysentery, typhoid fever, and hepatitis A, as well as illnesses spread by insect vectors like dengue, yellow fever, malaria, and Chagas disease.

Continue reading.

[rjzimmerman]

How a Crisis for Vultures Led to a Human Disaster: Half a Million Deaths. (New York Times)

To say that vultures are underappreciated would be putting it mildly. With their diet of carrion and their featherless heads, the birds are often viewed with disgust. But they have long provided a critical cleaning service by devouring the dead.

Now, economists have put an excruciating figure on just how vital they can be: The sudden near-disappearance of vultures in India about two decades ago led to more than half a million excess human deaths over five years, according to a forthcoming study in the American Economic Review.

Rotting livestock carcasses, no longer picked to the bones by vultures, polluted waterways and fed an increase in feral dogs, which can carry rabies. It was “a really huge negative sanitation shock,” said Anant Sudarshan, one of the study’s authors and an economics professor at the University of Warwick in England.

The findings reveal the unintended consequences that can occur from the collapse of wildlife, especially animals known as keystone species for the outsize roles they play in their ecosystems. Increasingly, economists are seeking to measure such impacts.

A study looking at the United States, for example, has suggested that the loss of ash trees to the invasive emerald ash borer increased deaths related to cardiovascular and respiratory illness. And in Wisconsin, researchers found that the presence of wolves reduced vehicle collisions with deer by about a quarter, creating an economic benefit that was 63 times greater than the cost of wolves killing livestock.

“Biodiversity and ecosystem functioning do matter to human beings,” said Eyal Frank, an economist at the University of Chicago and one of the authors of the new vulture study. “And it’s not always the charismatic and fuzzy species.”