#so as long as you stay near that facet and expand on it

[amiharana]

Okay, so I've read a couple of Revalink soulmate AU fics but I can never get through them because honestly I've never really liked the concept. And honestly, I feel like there's a decent chance Link would feel the same.

I mean, you've got a guy who didn't really get to choose almost anything about his life - he's a knight because his father was, he's Zelda's guard because he was selected by the King, he's the chosen hero because he's destined for it - and then he doesn't even get to choose who he falls in love with? And in most soulmate AUs probably has a literal physical mark on his body constantly reminding him of that fact? That's not romantic, that's existentially horrifying!

This idea might already be a thing but I've never really read fanfic before about a month ago when I got the Revalink brainrot so I don't know, but here's an idea I call the anti-soulmate AU.

Basically Revali doesn't have whatever soulmate-identifying mark exists in this story, and Link does, which is part of why Revali resents Link while Link is in some ways envious of Revali for the opposite reason. Somehow they end up actually talking to each other and grow close, and eventually Link basically decides "fuck it, I don't care that there's some destined perfect partner for me, I'm choosing to be with this guy." And even though they provably aren't soulmates and their relationship maybe isn't perfect, they still love each other and are happy together.

There can be some angst about Revali feeling insecure since there is someone out there who objectively would be a better partner for Link even though Link doesn't actually want to be with them, and about how this is basically depriving Link's soulmate of their perfect partner. Who that person is doesn't really matter, but making it Mipha would add even more to her whole "tragic one-sided pining" thing. Or it could just be some random person, like I said it's kinda unimportant.

Anyway the Calamity happens, and since Link kinda-sorta-dies whatever soulmate mark he has goes too and he's finally totally free from it. I have no idea if that's a thing that happens in these AUs, like I said I don't really read them much, but it kinda makes sense and fits this story so whatever. Maybe have Revali be revived after Ganon's defeated so there can be a happy ending.

Revalink as a concept is always just a little bit contrived. You have to mess with the timeline of the backstory if you want them to be a thing pre-calamity, you need to change how the Champion ghosts work to have them be a thing mid-game, or you need to have all the champions come back from the dead in order to have them be a thing post-canon, and you almost always need to mess with their personalities to have it be even slightly plausible. It's always kinda messy and doesn't totally make sense, and in this story that would basically be true in-universe and that's exactly why Link wants to be with him. He's pretty much the exact opposite of a perfect, destined partner who fits together with Link flawlessly.

Sorry for basically writing the entire synopsis of a fic that doesn't exist and probably isn't even that good of an idea, but as I mentioned I have the Revalink brainrot and I have no friends who I can send ideas like this to and I need to tell them to somebody.

so first of all, NEVER apologize to me for writing a whole fic synopsis in my askbox. my friend, are you familiar with my blog? all i do is write the longest fic rambles in the world here instead of writing full-fledged fic to upload to ao3 ☝️😭 so please do not even worry!!! i like ur fic idea a lot and it's good!!! and if you'd like, we can be friends and u can do what crow cryiling (affectionate) does and spam my inbox or messages w your ideas whenever you want 🤍 i luv to hear about revalink always

i honestly really love soulmate aus because i'm a hopeless romantic 😭🤍 SORRY but i do agree that to write a really good soulmate au for revalink, you can't just put any soulmate au template on them. like revali himself will actively break the fourth wall to fight against it because it just doesn't fit their dynamic; their whole relationship is built off of defying fate, re:your second-to-last paragraph. canon botw doesn't outline a clear path for revalink to ever be together in the way it might for zelda, mipha, or sidon even, so we'll always have to bend or break the rules of their universe for even a glimpse of future where they can be happy together 🥹 but it's the best part of their dynamic: they weren't supposed to be together, but goddamn it do they look good together.

i remember reading a fic where link and revali did have soulmate-identifying marks (i forgot what it was called but link's soul mark was revali's entire monologue in the revali's flap memory, and link hated him for it LMAO), but the idea that link would despise seeing the mark is so 🥺💔 i'm imagining maybe link was so excited to have one as a child, but after pulling the master sword and becoming a knight of hyrule, he now sees how he's doomed his soulmate to being tied to him and how he's responsible for their future or whatever. link has gotta develop some sort of altruistic complex about how he has to serve the people even at the cost of himself, i can't articulate it well right now, but i hope you get what i mean??? but that influences his resentment at the existence of the soulmark — not that he resents the person who is his actual soulmate, just the fact that he has one because he views himself as a burden on his soulmate as a result of his current position in life.

revali being born without a soul mark makes me so sad 😭 mixing this with my hc about him being orphaned, but revali getting bullied for not only not having parents but also not having a soulmate 💔💔 some of these rito kids are dickheads talking about "the goddesses wouldn't grant you even one person who would love you, haha!" and it definitely influences his workaholic tendencies training to become to most powerful warrior ever. he copes by saying he thinks soulmates are ridiculous and that there was no way there was another person in the world who could be perfect for you, that you should be given the ability to choose who you wanted to be with (but deep down, revali wants to know who the goddess would have chosen for him, if he did have a soulmate ㅠㅠ)

what do you think the conversation between link and revali would be like when they decide they want to be together, soulmates or not? what about the moment they fall for each other? who falls first? would it be mutual pining and trying to resist at first, because revali knows link has a soulmate who he deserves more than revali and link holding back because he knows what revali feels about the whole soulmate thing? or do they fall in love without holding back anyway, with link not caring for his soulmate at all like you mentioned? making mipha link's soulmate........ so tragic i feel bad for her fr if link resented her for being his soulmate kJDFKJD 😭 i lowkey wanna write these scenes tho idk HAHAHAH

the soul mark disappearing after link "dies" and is put in the shrine of resurrection is a really interesting idea though! like what's the mechanics behind that? i feel you'd have to go back and decide how the soulmate system works; is it a mysterious magic that no one can figure out? is it decided by some god of fate or love, hyrule's counterpart to aphrodite/eros? how did the magic decide that because link was "dead", he can't have a soulmate anymore/disconnected him from his soulmate? or what if link's soulmate died during the calamity before he was put in the shrine and soulmate-logic was like 'if your soulmate is dead, the mark disappears' so link's mark fades mid-battle and he doesn't realize it? and furthermore, link waking up in the shrine a century later and looks at his hand or some shit where the mark used to be and either (1) feeling a strange sense of melancholy at the empty spot on his skin or (2) looking at it but feeling nothing at all, and continuing with getting out of the shrine.

you could also explore how soulmate dynamics change throughout the hundred years he's gone. i'm sure plenty of people died during the calamity and lost their soulmates, so how does that alter the whole societal norms and culture surrounding soulmates? are people still born with soulmates after the calamity? do you think it becomes a taboo, that it's dangerous to meet your soulmate because what if you lose them? or do they see it as a mark of fortune, that love still prevails even in this near godless world after an era of tragedy? and then how does link interact with the world following his awakening, to find out that people have soulmates and look back at the empty, unmarred part of his skin and wonder, did he have one too? who were they? did he love them, and did they love him too?

AND ANOTHER THING, if mipha was his soulmate back then, does she still have her soul mark on her ghost?????? what if she did because well. it's her spirit and not her actual body, so when link meets her again post-waterblight, she's saddened by not only link's lack of memory of her but also the fact he's lost his soul mark. and also remembering that link would still probably resent her if he had his memory.

furthermore, there's two scenarios that instantly come to mind when i think about post-calamity revalink here. (1) revali seeing link post-windblight but link doesn't remember and revali having a similar reaction/feeling to mipha, but is having an internal conflict about whether or not he should be happy that link no longer has a soulmate he's bound to or sad that because of that, he'll never have another chance with link again because he's dead </3 or (2) champions are revived but link still doesn't remember his time with revali pre-calamity so revali is trying to give link an out and let him go to be given the chance to love someone else in his new life, but for whatever reason link is still drawn to him, moving to rito village and practically living in revali's shadow. it's another slow-burn of them falling in love all over again and maybe link gets his memories back?

if you ever plan on writing this, my friend....... feel free to send it to me because i'd Love to read it. like fr. there's so much potential for this one

[sekwanele]

Standing on the edge of becoming an OT and beyond

Well, hello. Knowing where to start really with these blogs can be very challenging, in my experience. However, today’s topic my brain decided to take a liking to, and I felt like being honest about my journey of becoming an OT.  “What is OT and why OT?”, “Well OT is sort of like physiotherapy, but the only difference is that we deal more with activities.”  That was my response back in first year not knowing actually what OT was, thinking back I am a bit embarrassed with my response because we do so much meaningful work and now I know better. Needless to say, I’m going to enrich you with wonderful knowledge into my OT journey up until now and plans ahead.

My journey starts at UJ, studying Civil Engineering. This of course was a terrible year as I always wanted to do something in Health Science, however I was rejected by most universities for qualifications on paper I qualified for. I ended up studying engineering not because I wanted it but because I just did not want to stay at home. I relies now that I am the only one this led me to investigate the reason why I had little information about tertiary education.  According to Ziderman (2009, 227), “the on-going thrust towards expanding university enrolment has left behind traditionally disadvantaged groups such as low income families, ethnic minorities and rural populations.” I realised that most students from rural background like myself lacked knowledge about university and how to get in and apply most students study things they do not know because of a lack of resources to get information about the courses they apply to. Having the information about what you want to study helps you in decision-making. Which fortunately I got guidance from those ahead of me in UJ. They helped me apply to OT as I wanted to do something in health science.

When I got in my first year in 2021, it was a struggle but an enjoyable one as finally, I was doing something I wanted. First year was tough especially the four anatomies that we did. Honestly, I did not understand the reason behind so many anatomies, I was confused in terms of what this has to do with activities. “ Occupational therapy practitioners utilize their knowledge of human anatomy to understand underlying anatomical dysfunction and how it impacts occupational performance,” (JOTE, 2021). (https://doi.org/10.26681/jote.2021.050106).This definition rang true in my second year now when I actually got to see the anatomy and physiology coming through on the patients we finally got to see. It was amazing when you read about certain conditions, for example, seeing a flaccid limb because of a stroke and you know the reason behind it where you have the anatomical and physiological picture in your mind. You then take from your knowledge of how to place the client so they are in an anatomically correct position, therefore, preventing further complications. So only now in my third year of treatment do I see these modules all helping one another in bettering my effectiveness in client treatment. I believe it is what helped me and got me through my physical block without that knowledge I would not be here.

I speak now like seeing a patient was not initially hard for the first time, it was extremely so, you however get used to it. What you never get used to is the supervisor’s feedback which might at the time feel so negative, but it is beneficial in the long run. I feel like I’m better of now because of it.

In conclusion, as I continue my journey in OT and as near the end I am excited at the idea of finishing, and not touching a book again in my life, not true I know but I’ll tell myself that for now. I am looking forward to 4th year and mostly the year after that where I will be working with the aim of wanting to experience different facets of OT like Medico Legal. I now will be faced with the moral dilemma of do I chase the money within OT or do I stay on the ground and advocate for those clients without much and get less. I guess we will wait and see. To be continued….

References

Giles, A., Conrad, W., Lunsford, D., & Valdes, K. A. (2021). Exploring Anatomy Coursework and Perceptions of Occupational Therapy Students: A Survey Study. Journal of Occupational Therapy Education, 5(1). https://doi.org/10.26681/jote.2021.050106

Njoko, M. B. (2018). The impact of access to post-secondary education information on “rural origin” students’ access to higher education: a case of three schools in Ntabamhlophe, KwaZulu-Natal. South African Journal of Higher Education, 32(5), 173-189.

[stressisakiller]

Hero of the Day

Tony Stark x OFC Soulmate AU

(Metallica Really? Part 7)

Summary: Now there are aliens attacking New York... Great.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, cursing

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: Two chapters in one day!! No way! My parents are watching the girls today and I was able to pull out of my Happy Potter fanfiction hyperfixation long enough to write these today so please enjoy!! I also plan on going back through and checking over the point of view cause I think it may be a bit wonky, but I really wanted to get this posted.  

Masterlist

Previous / Next

In the time since the Hammer debacle life had calmed down… somewhat. Tony had been continuously tinkering with his Iron man suits and had publicly congratulated Pepper and Happy for their wedding. During one of your nights in with him and Sarah in the lab he had confessed that he only loved Pepper as family, someone he could lean on, and that he was so unused to having someone to love and care for he had mistaken it for a romantic type of love. Luckily Pepper had promptly set him straight. Your relationship with Tony had mostly settled back into its normal banter but now there was something more to it. You were not just his PA, not that you had been for years, but now you knew that you were truly someone he looked to for advice, someone he trusted.

His newest project was expanding the reach of Stark Industries by building a ridiculously large and ostentatious tower in New York as a new base of operations. You, of course, had been roped into helping him, your old duties having been delegated to Pepper’s new PA, as she now had Tony’s old job of CEO. Never one to limit his options, Tony decided to keep his house in Malibu as well as build a massive penthouse in the new tower. To your delight, the tower floor plans included two ridiculously large apartments for you and Sarah on the level below. You had watched with a warm feeling in your chest as every new iteration of the tower included a space for you directly adjacent to his, usually with your own library and balcony. You didn’t let Tony see of course how much it meant to you that he made sure to carve out a space for you in this new facet of his life. He hadn’t told you yet but while construction was happening at the tower he had also a house built in Malibu near his for you, and Sarah if you so chose, to live. Your friendship with Sarah deepened as you continued your self-defense and rock climbing classes together, or as you sat with her as she continued work on her motorcycle in your free time. Tony promised her that the motorcycle would move with her if and when she decided to move to the New York base.

Life was mostly quiet in the world of Iron man, besides the odd person trying to copy some of his tech and ultimately failing, The only person who had ever gotten close to succeeding had been Ivan and he had had the blueprints for the original arc reactor due to his father. You divided your time between the East and West coasts depending on where Tony needed you to be at any given time. You stayed in California working on setting up a couple of new divisions of Stark Industries while Sarah temporarily moved to New York in order to help Tony with a “top secret” project with Shield. Apparently, they were working on how to thaw a man who had survived being frozen in a block of ice since WWII, not that you knew anything about it. You spent the last month at the Tower with Tony as construction finished so that you were available to help out where needed.

You watched as Tony landed outside on the balcony, he had just finished doing some underwater welding successfully converting the Tower to run solely on Arc Reactor technology. You were pretty proud about being the one that gave him that idea. He had just handed you a glass of champagne when Jarvis came over the speaker saying that his programming was being overrun and Agent Coulson stepped out of the elevator.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” Coulson states not even bothering to say hi. You giggle to yourself, you’ve become friends with him over the last year since you were the main person that Tony would actually listen to.

“Hello Phil, it’s lovely to see you! I didn’t realize you were in New York.” You call, rushing over to give him a hug. Tony gives you a look that you aren’t able to decipher before giving Coulson an incredulous look.

“Phil?” He states pointing at Coulson and raising his eyebrow.

Coulson ignores Tony and continues to speak with you. “I can’t stay,” he says, Tony speaking over him in the background.

“His first name is Agent.” You just roll your eyes at Tony’s antics.

“You’re welcome here,” you say leading Coulson further into the penthouse, “ we are just celebrating the completion of the tower.” He gives you a smile before pulling out a laptop and heading over to Tony, holding it out for him to grab.

“We need you to look over this as soon as possible.” He states, Tony just stares at it with a disbelieving look on his face.

“I don’t like being handed things,” he says looking back up at Coulson you roll your eyes again, he really was too much sometimes. You step over to them reaching for the laptop.

“You’re such a dork sometimes.’ you say placing the laptop on the bar next to you while Tony says something about consulting hours.

“Is this about the Avengers?” You ask innocently, Phil gives you a hard stare. “Relax, Tony didn’t tell me about it,” you state with a wink “and anyway you know that I won't tell anyone.”

“The Avengers initiative was scrapped, I thought, and I didn't even qualify. Something about being volatile and not playing well with others.” Tony says walking over to the bar and pouring himself a tumbler of whiskey and opening the laptop.  You smirk, turning away so that Tony doesn’t see as he moves the holograms from the screen into the air. You stare in shock at the information being projected.

“You have homework, Tony” You look over at him as he absorbs the information displayed.

“You mean we have homework?” He replies looking at you out of the corner of his eye.

Raising your eyebrow you turn towards Tony, he looks at you pleadingly. “You know that I study better with you helping me.” You huff out a laugh while shaking your head.

“Fine,” you head over to the coffee maker. “I’ll help, but I’m going to need caffeine.”

As you fight to stay awake at 3 am you wonder to yourself if you will ever truly get used to pulling these all-nighters and why you subject yourself to them but watching Tony explaining some of what he is reading to you with excitement you know. At four in the morning your body gives in and you fall asleep leaning on the couch, Tony looks over at you, a small smile on his face and he pulls a blanket around you before going back to his work. The sun streaming through the window is what wakes you up in the morning, you start to move only to freeze when you realize what you are laying on, or rather who. Slowly lifting your head, you turn to look at Tony whose lap your head was resting to see that he was still asleep. You smile at the view of his head leaning back on the couch, his mouth wide open, small snores making their way past his lips.

You stretch as you walk into the kitchen to make some coffee, noticing that Tony had absolutely nothing in the fridge. “Hey Jarvis?” you whisper trying not to wake Tony. Jarvis answers in an equally soft tone.

“Yes, Miss Martin.”

“Could you please order us some breakfast for delivery? Something with French Toast and over-medium eggs, you know how he likes those when he has had a long night.”

“Yes, Miss Martin, I will have one of the security members bring it up when it arrives.”

“You are the absolute best J,” you reply smiling.

“I am sure you say that to all of your AI’s” You snort out a laugh shaking your head as you head back to the living room. You check to make sure that Tony is still asleep before taking your coffee and the notes that you were taking last night outside. Trying to figure out why they were bringing this back to his attention now. You notice in the file about a god named Thor that they have now discovered that there are in fact alien species. So maybe this is a just-in-case type of situation. This seems like the answer until you stumble across the information that is included about something called the Tesseract. You decide to head inside and see if you can find out any more information.

You spend the rest of the morning researching with Tony once he wakes up as the food arrives. The smile he gives you melts your heart and he walks over and gives you a kiss on the cheek in thanks. You have to try way too hard to hide the blush painting your cheeks. You are sprawled out on the floor next to Tony when Jarvis comes over the intercom telling Tony that he is needed in Germany as quickly as possible. You give him a small sad smile.

“Duty calls.” you mummer he sits up and reaches for you, you slip into his arms and hug him. “I’ll be ok, I’m more worried about you, you’re the one who will be in danger.” you say pulling back to look him in the eyes “Just,” you close your eyes and take a deep breath before meeting his. “Just, promise you’ll come back to me, ok?”

“I promise.” He replies, the tilt of his mouth and look in his eyes could only be described as soft. Tony leans forward and brushes his lips across your forehead before getting up and rushing to get suited up and flying off.

“Jarvis!” you call out

“Already pulled up the feed in the living room, miss” you run to the couch and watch until you know that he is out and safe, it honestly doesn't help your anxiety much, but Tony calling you as soon as he made it to wherever they were keeping him did.

An agent from Shield came by a little while later and collected some of Tony’s belongings since he would not be coming back to the tower yet. You decide to stay at the tower for a couple more days in case he gets to come back. The next morning you are surprised when you are put on a four-way call between Tony, a man you recognized as Bruce Banner, and Sarah. During which Tony describes what happened in Germany and what they know about the tesseract and the scepter that they got from Loki.

“It’s a little concerning that someone would come all the way from another world in order to get this thing, isn’t it? I mean this man must have a plan and I doubt he was the only one involved.” A man in red, white, and blue barges in as you are speaking, “Tony, I bet this man has a plan A, B, and C, please don’t let your guard down, cause I don’t think you will like what he has planned next.” you trail off as the connection is lost as something is slammed down onto one of the tables. You stare at the empty space in front of you where Tony’s face had just been, a sinking feeling in your gut. You answer the incoming call from Sarah grateful that she wants to talk through everything as well.

“Sarah, I really don’t like this. I have a feeling that this guy has a bigger plan and that Tony will be right in the middle of it.” You start to pace as you speak, unable to stand still.

“Liza, He’s Iron Man he will always be in the middle of it. As much as he postures he can’t just stand to the side and let someone else get the glory.” You roll your eyes at her attempt to make you laugh, the knots in your stomach not loosening.

“I know Sarah, doesn’t mean I have to like it.” You give her a small smile that was more of a grimace.

She tilts her head at you for a moment like she is debating whether or not she should ask what’s on her mind. “Have you told him yet?” You look at her with a raised eyebrow and shake your head. It’s her turn to roll her eyes at you, “you have got to be kidding me!! It’s been over a year love, you need to tell him!”

You laugh a derisive sound. “Tell him what exactly? Hey, I know you don’t believe that you have a soulmate and you don’t have a mark but I do and I think that it points to you. Would you like another coffee, sir?” You shake your head, “not happening.”

Sarah just watches you, used to your dramatics when it comes to Tony. “Whatever girl, you’ll have to tell him at some point and I just don’t want you to wait until it is too late.”

“I know, I know, I won’t but it’s just not the right time yet.”

“Yeah, Yeah, yeah keep telling yourself that. Go to sleep love it must be getting late there and I know you didn’t sleep much last night.” You smile at your friend, you really don’t know where you would be without her.

“Night Sarah.”

You were in the Tower the next day when what would later be known as the Battle of New York began. You ran throughout the building getting people to take shelter in the middle and lower floors, doing your best to keep everyone calm. Luckily for you, even with it being in the middle of the action it was one of the buildings that were mainly left alone. You would later discover that that was in part to do with the fact that the portal originated from the Tower so it was the one building being guarded by the invaders instead of attacked. You stood near enough to one of the windows to see a little of what was going on, hoping that Tony was ok and that he and the rest of the Avengers would be able to stop the aliens from taking over the city.

You are pulled out of your observation by the sound of your phone ringing. Pulling it out of your pocket you rushed to answer when you saw that it was Tony.

“Tony! Where are you, are you ok?” your words are a little garbled due to how quickly you spoke.

“Liza, thank God you’re ok. Ok sweetheart I need you to listen to me for a moment, please don't interrupt.” your heart stutters at the urgency in his tone.

“Ok, but I don’t understand…” You notice something heading towards the building fast, you startle a little when you recognize it as Tony.

“The council that runs Shield decided to send a nuke into New York and I am currently redirecting it into the Portal and I don’t know what will happen when I do,” You watch as he forced the nuke up right before they both slammed into the tower, heading straight up towards the portal, “But I had to talk to you first. I had to … you …know that I … Liza…” The tears fall in earnest as the connection glitches out and the line goes dead. You run down the stairs and outside as the aliens around you collapse. You watch in terror as the portal starts to close, Tony nowhere in sight. Please, Please, Please. Your mark starts to burn and throb as you see him slip through falling through the clear blue sky. “No” you whisper, running in the general direction that you see him falling. A hand grasps yours and you turn to see Natasha pulling you along towards where she knows Steve is. You look at the falling figure of Tony in time to see a large green blob catch him from the sky and slow his descent.

You rush to his side ignoring the people standing around him. “Tony!” your voice is hoarse as you shake his shoulders and fight with his mask.

“Fuck no Tony! You promised you would come back to me, you promised.” you are pulled away from him and into two rather large arms as, what you now recognize as the Hulk, rips Tony’s mask off and screams in his face. Your whole body collapses as he takes in a huge breath and opens his eyes, your mark returning to normal as Tony spouts some shit about shawarma before passing back out. You turn your face into the chest behind you, not caring that you are absolutely fucking losing your shit sobbing on a stranger. You hear the rumble of soothing yet confusing words as you begin to calm down. Wait a second did he just call you maiden? You pull back and look into the face of a larger-than-life god of a man, before pulling completely out of his arms embarrassed.

“There is nothing to be embarrassed about, little maiden, he is your life mate is he not?” you look at the man, who you now recognize from the portfolio as Thor, in shock before slowly nodding. “Then your reactions are to be expected.”

Another Adonis of a man walks up to you, “We are going to take him to a hospital. Would you like to come with us?” you stare at him a moment before recognizing him as Steve Rogers. You nod again before finding your voice.

“He has a full medical staff at the Tower, the power is still operational and the tower is still largely intact. It would be easiest to take him there.”

It has been two days since the battle and Tony still hasn’t woken up, not once. You have spent the entirety of those two days in an uncomfortable armchair next to his hospital bed. During those two days, a multitude of people have come by to check on him including Director Fury who in a move totally unlike himself told you everything that had happened including what had happened to Coulson. His reasoning for telling you was that you would hear it anyway, whether from Tony or finding your way onto the Shield mainframe. His last words are accompanied by a raised eyebrow, you were not intimidated in the least and gave him your most innocent-looking face before telling him that you have no idea what he was talking about.

You are wasting your time by sketching a picture of Tony lying in the bed when a voice hoarse from disuse calls your name.

“Liza, what are you doing?”

Your heart jumps in your chest, but you feign indifference.

“Sketching, I had to figure out something to do in this dreary room, and baking wasn’t an option.” You finally give in to the voice in your head and look over to him. He is staring at you with a soft smile and something in his eyes that you aren’t quite able to name.  You disentangle your limbs from the lounging position with your legs flung over the armrest, it had become a favorite of yours considering it was the only way to be remotely comfortable.

“I didn’t know you could sketch.” He states not looking away from you. He drags his eyes up and down your body as if he were making sure that you were alright.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Tony.” You reply breaking eye contact and looking down at your lap. You aren’t usually this shy but there was something about the look that he is giving you that is making you blush like a schoolgirl.

“That’s a mistake that I have every intention of rectifying.” You roll your eyes at him, refusing to rise to the bait before pushing the button to call in the nurse that was on duty.

@graniairish, @freeshavocadoooo  

[ryqoshay]

Tri-Arame: A Break? No Way!

Primary Pairing Trio: YuuAyuSetsu Words: ~2k Rating: G Time Frame: Sometime during the 2nd trimester of their 2nd year? Later? Story Arc: Stand Alone

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Author’s Note: How many detours will I take? How many WIPs must I start before I can finish one? Will I ever finish any of the works I started over the last couple months? Only my µ’s muse knows.

Anyway, this chapter was born entirely out of a single comment from myon as we discussed the new songs for the Nijigasaki girls. I don’t want to spoil it entirely, so I’ll include it in the followup post.

Also, the girls of R3birth have not made their anime debut, so they will not be appearing in this scene. Perhaps I may come back and make changes later if they are introduced in the second season.

Summary: It’s time for everyone in the Nijigasaki School Idol Club to have a new solo! And Yuu is going to help them all.

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Movement at the edge of Ayumu’s focus caught her eye and she looked up.

“Are you alright, Yuu-chan?” She asked the twin-tailed girl beside her under the kotatsu.

“I’m fine.” Yuu offered a smile that was nowhere near its normal power.

“You’ve stayed up late every night this week.” Ayumu reminded. “It’s fine to take a break.”

“A break? No way!” Yuu shook her head. “I need to help you guys.”

“I believe Ayumu-san and I can take care of anything else tonight.” Setsuna joined from her spot opposite Ayumu. “We’ve made a lot of progress thanks to your help, Yuu-san.” She smiled, though Ayumu noted even hers was not as brilliant as usual.

The three girls had been working together for hours since arriving at Ayumu’s place after school, breaking only for dinner. The project was a pair of new solo songs for Ayumu and Setsuna for an upcoming Live being planned by the school idol club. Although, together may have been a little bit of an overstatement, as Ayumu and Setsuna had each been primarily focused on their own song while Yuu assisted as needed.

And on the topic of Yuu’s assistance, she had been helping the rest of the club as well all week. Thus, all the late nights. She had actually ended up staying at Rina’s, Shizuku’s, Karin’s and Kanata’s places after missing the last train the first couple nights and not bothering the next two. Tonight, it was Ayumu’s turn and they had invited Setsuna to join them.

“Are you sure?” Yuu seemed more than a little dejected.

Whatever Setsuna was about to say in response was interrupted by a yawn. “Mm…” She ended up humming and nodding after.

“It seems we should take our own advice and turn in as well.” Ayumu decided. “We can continue later this weekend. But for now, you and I need to rest up for tomorrow, Yuu-chan.” She reminded her friend of the plans they had with her parents. “Or today, actually.” She corrected, noticing the clock on her headboard.

“I suppose.” Yuu sighed and crawled over to Ayumu’s bed before pulling herself up and under the covers.

“I’m sorry, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu suddenly apologized. “I got so wrapped up in our work that I completely forgot to set out a futon for you.” She stood and moved to her closet to retrieve the bedding.

“I’ll help.” Setsuna assured, sliding the table a little to make room before getting up to retrieve a pillow.

“Oh, and one more thing.” Ayumu stepped over to her plushie display and grabbed the pink rabbit before turning and handing it to Setsuna.

“… Right… Thank you.” Pink dusted the raven-haired girl’s cheeks as she accepted.

----------

Ayumu opened her eyes to an unfamiliar sound. Soft, almost imperceptible scratches sounded from somewhere in the room. Then a sound she recognized; a page being turned. She sat up and immediately spotted Yuu setting the table, scrawling away at the paperwork for the songs they had worked on last night.

“Yuu-chan?” She murmured, keeping her volume down as she realized Setsuna was still sleeping behind Yuu.

“Mm?” The girl with green tips looked up from her work, set a hand down for support and twisted her shoulders around to face the redhead. “G’mornin’ Ayumu.” She offered a smile that was barely more energetic than the prior night.

“How long have you been up?” Ayumu asked, sliding out of bed, stepping over Setsuna and making her way to her normal spot at the table.

“Dunno.” Yuu admitted. “I dreamed up some good ideas for almost everyone and needed to get them out on paper before I forgot it all.”

Ayumu couldn’t help smiling. She loved Yuu’s unwavering support, even when it lead to hyperfocus and nigh-all-consuming obsession. And while she wished Yuu would take better care of herself, she had long since vowed to do what she could to fill in where needed when it came to her health and wellbeing.

“Are you going to be alright coming along with us today?” She asked.

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Yuu nodded. “I love hanging out with you and your parents. I can take a nap afterward.”

Well, at least she recognizes she needs more sleep. Ayumu conceded to herself.

A knock came at the door, followed by Ayumu’s mother’s voice. “Are you girls up? I’ll have breakfast ready in a moment.”

The sound caused Setsuna to stir, so Ayumu was no longer worried about waking her.

“We’ll be out in a few.” Ayumu responded.

“Oh, Setsuna-chan, good morning.” Yuu greeted the other girl as she slowly sat up and yawned.

Setsuna stretched. “Good morning, Yuu-san, Ayumu-san.”

“Good morning, Setsuna-chan.” Ayumu added.

“I had a bunch of new ideas,” Yuu continued “though we probably can’t fit them all into just these songs, and probably shouldn’t try, but maybe we’ll be able to use some in the next set? Anyway, take a look at it later today and let me know what you think.” She held out a stack of sheets.

“Thank you, Yuu-san.” Setsuna accepted and slipped the pages into her bag.

The three then rotated through the bathroom to wash their faces and get ready for the day.

----------

ScarletStorm: Ayumu-san

UeharaAyumu: What’s up Setsuna-chan?

ScarletStorm: I wanted to contact you privately so as to avoid possibly embarrassing Yuu-san.

UeharaAyumu: Yuu-chan?

UeharaAyumu: What do you mean?

ScarletStorm: I believe she mixed up some of the paperwork for our songs.

ScarletStorm: A lot of it, actually.

Oh? Ayumu crawled over to the table to check what was left there. Sure enough, much of it was for Setsuna’s solo.

UeharaAyumu: That appears to be the case

ScarletStorm: I can stop by later tonight so we can swap them.

UeharaAyumu: No need to make a special trip

UeharaAyumu: We’ll see each other again Monday morning

As soon as Ayumu sent the second message, she realized what Setsuna was probably going to reply.

ScarletStorm: I was hoping to work a little more on it tomorrow.

And there it was. Yuu wasn’t the only workaholic when it came to school idol things. Ayumu laughed lightly to herself and shook her head. She was about to agree and set up a time to meet when a different thought occurred to her.

UeharaAyumu: Perhaps we can use this opportunity to help each other?

UeharaAyumu: Look at what the other has done from a different perspective and maybe do some editing or offer some advice?

UeharaAyumu: A little like what Yuu-chan has been doing for us, but we both have different perspectives than her

UeharaAyumu: And each other

ScarletStorm: That’s a great idea, Ayumu-san!

ScarletStorm: It will a little like our Shuffle Festival from a little while back.

ScarletStorm: Actually, no, not really.

ScarletStorm: We’re not covering the other’s song, just helping them write one.

UeharaAyumu: Well there’s no reason we cannot add a little of our own influence to the other’s song

UeharaAyumu: I’ve always admired your style, Setsuna-chan

UeharaAyumu: So I wouldn’t mind seeing what influence you might have on a song that I might sing

UeharaAyumu: Then on the other side, I would like to see what I can add to a song of yours

UeharaAyumu: And on the topic of the Shuffle Festival, I actually kind of hoped I would end up with CHASE! instead of Kasumi-chan

UeharaAyumu: Yuu-chan still likes to play it on her piano every so often and I can’t help humming along when she does

UeharaAyumu: After all, it was the song that inspired me to become a school idol and her to join and restart the club

There was a noticeable pause before Setsuna began typing again. Then another pause. And another.

ScarletStorm: Thank you, Ayumu-san.

ScarletStorm: That song has always meant a lot to me.

ScarletStorm: As such, I am very happy to hear that you and Yuu-san continue to enjoy it.

ScarletStorm: That said, I also enjoy your style.

ScarletStorm: However, I believe Emma-san was a better pick than I for covering Yume e no Ippo.

ScarletStorm: At least she was then.

ScarletStorm: My time with Ayumu-san and Shizuku-san in A・ZU・NA has allowed me to experience many more facets of being a school idol than I would have otherwise on my own.

ScarletStorm: You have allowed me to expand my knowledge and skills of being a school idol.

ScarletStorm: It would be an honor to sing a song in homage to Ayumu-san’s style in exchange for her singing one in mine.

Ayumu smiled.

UeharaAyumu: I’ll let Yuu-chan know we’re trading notes for a little while when I check on her later to make sure she’s taking the break she needs

UeharaAyumu: And speaking of breaks, don’t you be staying up to late working on my song

UeharaAyumu: Both you and Yuu-chan have a bad habit of overworking yourselves and it makes me worry about you

Scarlet Storm: Thank you for your concern, Ayumu-san.

ScarletStorm: I will be sure to go to bed at a decent time tonight.

UeharaAyumu: Alright

UeharaAyumu: See you at the station Monday morning

ScarletStorm: Yes, see you then.

----------

“Wha~?” Kasumi exclaimed, planting both hands on the table and leaning toward two of her seniors on the other side. “Ayumu-sempai and Setsuna-sempai are trading songs?”

Ayumu laughed lightly. “Just trading some influence in style.”

“And learning new ways to look at our songs,” Setsuna added excitedly “how we share them with our fans and ultimately grow as school idols.”

“Kasumin wants to grow as a school idol too!” Kasumi whined. “Senpai!” She turned toward Yuu. “Help Kasumin make her songs even cuter!”

“Yuu-senpai has already helped you a lot, Kasumi-san.” Shizuku pointed out from beside the ash blonde. “I believe what is being suggested here is a little different.”

“It sounds more like our recent Shuffle Festival.” Karin observed.

“That’s what I thought at first as well.” Setsuna acknowledged.

“But what Setsu and Ayu-pyon are doing is trading influence on creating songs, not just covering the other’s songs.” Ai spoke up.

“Exactly.” Ayumu agreed.

“Sounds fun. Ai’m in.” The blonde grinned.

“I would like to try something new as well.” Rina stated flatly. “I would like to discover new ways to connect with my fans.”

“Hmmm…” Emma considered “I enjoyed singing Ayumu-chan’s pure song during the Shuffle Festival, but I wonder how it might feel to sing a cool song like Karin-chan’s or a dramatic one like Shizuku-chan’s.”

“Or a cute one like Kasumin’s?” Kasumi asked.

“I think everything Emma-chan sings would end up being cute.” Kanata’s voice was slightly muffled by her pillow before she turned her head. “Wouldn’t you agree, Karin-chan?”

“O… of course.” Karin didn’t seem to have expected to be asked such a question.

“What kind of influence would you want to have on your song, Kanata-san?” Yuu asked.

“I already get inspiration and influence from Haruka-chan.” Kanata drawled.

“Well, this all sounds like a lot of fun.” Yuu continued. “But if we’re going to overhaul everyone’s songs, it’s going to be a lot of work. But…” she leaned over retrieve a sizable stack of sheets from her bag “I came up with a ton of new and random stuff once Ayumu and Setsuna-chan revealed their idea to me. Take a look and see if anything gives you ideas. I’ll be happy to help wherever I can, as always.”

Seven hands reached forward to take random pages and several discussions broke out among the group.

Ayumu glanced at the twin-tailed girl beside her. Looks like it might be another sleep deprived week for Yuu-chan. She worried silently. Maybe I’ll take a night in the middle of the week this time. Oh. Setsuna-chan and I are pretty far along with our songs, so maybe we can all take a break that night. Perhaps an anime movie night, so long as we limit it to only a few episodes and not an entire series.

Someone said her name to get her attention and Ayumu was taken from her thoughts and into a discussion about a possible lyric change. The next couple hours were filled with excitement and anticipation as the girls of the Nijigasaki School Idol Club began looking at their songs in a new light.

----------

Author’s Note Continued in Followup Post

[pauldron-pieces]

Perdita 'Aurelezra' Gentle's Backstory: From Elsewhere

Fandom: Dungeons And Dragons (5E)

Pairing: N/A, Perdita-Centric

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: This is a hypothetical narrative scenario featuring original characters in a world created by my Dungeon Master. As usual, this is non-canon and I own nothing aside from intellectual properties specifically attached to Perdita Gentle. This installment is mechanically unsound in a multitude of ways and ignores certain important lore facets.

Applicable trigger warnings are listed inside. Enjoy!

Taglist: @sporadic-fics and @cookiethewriter!

Inspired By: The Little Mermaid Score: Bedtime and sleepmakeswaves: One Day You Will Teach Me To Let Go Of My Fears

[Perdita Gentle is a Warforged celestial warlock utilizing the Pact Of The Bastion homebrew, and her appearance can be found here!]

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains multiple triggering scenes including vivid depictions of violence and brief mentions of character death. Stay safe!]

It came from elsewhere...

Amidst the hail of shooting stars peppering the landscape from the tail of the near-passing comet, something else arrived.

It was frail, fragile, spindly fingers clawing for purchase on the walls of the crater it emerged from. It did not make it much further than that, and it was discovered the following morning by two children surveying the damage in their family's garden.

Between the two of them, they propped it up, marveling at the chipped red gilding that coated its limbs. It stirred and they fled in a panic, running back towards the large house and calling for their parents.

×+×

Brand stared down at the crumpled mess of Warforged on his front terrace, an eyebrow raised. His two young children danced around his legs, alternating between pulling him forward and tugging him back. "This is the cause of all the fuss? This?" He asked incredulously.

"It moved by itself!"

"Aye, just as you move by yourself." The former captain commented dryly, ruffling his daughter's hair and utterly destroying the complex tangle of braids her mother had labored over. "You two lubbers have seen Warforged before, or have you forgotten?"

"Testin doesn't look like that!" His son protested. "Testin has a face!"

"You know how your hair is different from mine, pup? And how your sister's nose is less prodigious than this beak I sport? Warforged have such varied traits as well."

The head on the thing looked like an old Thanatonaut relic, just a smooth dome. It also bore archaic equipment for off-Flow navigation on the inside of its arms. Brand heaved out a sigh, smoothing a finger over his brown mustache in a meditative manner.

"Well, we can't just leave 'em out here. Ceere, have your mother ring Testin. And you, Kamer, are going to help me settle this poor rattler into one of our chairs out here." Brand rolled his eyes at how pale his son went, while Ceere stuck her tongue out at him. "Oi, chit, stop taunting your brother. Now shoo, and make sure your mother knows to tell Testin that it's important!"

×+×

Brand Gentle had made his fortune in his younger years as the eventual captain on a deep-space excavation platform. He had seen many odd things in his day, unearthed strange and unusual artifacts from times long gone by. Thanatonaut helms that predated mankind's fumbling into Flow travel, monoliths to terrible and forgotten powers; the refuse of man's advance into the stars.

Yet he had never seen anything quite like this. A Warforged birthed of a meteor, trimmed in battered red and gold like the veils of the Vespertine Order.

The former captain sat on his patio across from the mysterious Warforged, finally leaning forward in his chair after he collected his thoughts. "What is your name?" He asked quietly.

The thing ticked and whirred, and a hoarse voice answered, "I have no designation." A female voice.

Brand sighed heavily. He should have known it wouldn't be so straightforward. Beside him, Testin Awe cleared his throat. "Think back. Can you remember what happened before you woke in the Gentle's prize rose garden?" The hulking Warforged's tone was dry, blue eyes darting to Brand when he touched upon the sensitive subject. Brand was exceedingly protective of his roses.

More ticking. "Darkness." An odd shimmy of mechanics long unused as she tipped her head to the side. "I fell."

"I bet you did." Testin replied, then muttered under his breath, "Captain, she's battier than the Bakhroma Green."

Brand waved him off, giving the faceless Warforged across from him a tight smile. She cocked her head to the side again, and he got the unsettling feeling that he was being studied.

"I hurt your flowers. How can I fix them?" She queried.

Brand blinked. Testin, despite lacking an actual throat, seemed quite intent on clearing it today.

×+×

Calling her Perdita seemed to be a given. She was lost, constantly, wandering the grounds of the Gentle estate at all hours of the night and day. She had no physical needs, as was the custom of her race, so Brand saw no harm in her roving. She certainly didn't seem malicious, just curious in a blunt way.

Libertia, Brand's wife, took an odd shine to the spacey automaton. The former captain often found the woman chatting to her, trying to help her expand her ability for speech. Perdita was minimalist in her words, though she did eventually begin to speak more as the years passed.

Testin thought Perdita was a bit touched. "Still a little battle-rattle in that one." He had remarked privately to Brand, his craggy face oddly sympathetic for a Warforged. "Hard to shake sometimes."

Brand knew better than most folk that Warforged were more than adequate matches for their fleshy counterparts, and he took everything his old first mate told him as gospel. Testin was in agreement with Brand that the red and gold Warforged was decidedly not a threat.

"She just likes the flowers?" Testin asked suddenly one evening as he and Brand sat on the terrace. Brand nodded lazily, the smoke from his cheroot cigar twirling and arching through the air. "I don't get it, but...well, I guess you did have a penchant for gathering up the misfits." The gray-green Warforged allowed, his sidelong grin making Brand chuckle. "She's happy here, y'know. She mentioned it to me earlier. She thinks she's helping when you let her trim the bushes." His laughter was a rusty noise.

"She loves talking with Lib. Er, with may not be the right term. My wife could talk the legs off a table." Brand smiled fondly and Testin rolled those glowing blue eyes.

"Have you heard from Kamer at all?" The large Warforged changed the subject, frowning when the former captain sighed and shook his head.

"I'm not sure I should have sent him away for his schooling. What with the Empire gaining ground steadily, I'm uncertain how long the boarding schools will be safe."

"Hey, Kamer's smart. You know that. That kid won't get himself tangled up in anything. Besides, what the hell would the Empire want with a kid who's sole aspiration is to be an architect?" Testin tilted his head. "Now, Ceere-"

"Don't remind me, she's apprenticed to the Facturers now. Hopefully, by the grace of the gods, she'll put her tinkering tendencies to good use and stop destroying my beautiful skiffs." Brand groaned, putting his head in his hands.

"I mean, she's got great potential. Engine ripped itself apart in three different places."

"I'm well aware, you mechanical menace. It was my favorite Screamer class!"

×+×

Libertia was the one to suggest that Perdita consider taking up the habit of the Vespertine Order.

"You seem at peace whenever you come with me to chapel, Perdie." She commented one afternoon over tea. Brand raised an eyebrow at his wife, then glanced at the featureless automaton across the way. "Have you ever thought about joining the convent?" Libertia queried.

Perdita hummed thoughtfully. "I like the chapel. It's quiet. Makes me feel like I can stop moving." She offered a shrug. "I know I'm not...quiet." She was a much older model than Testin and her body tended to rattle or squeak at odd intervals.

"You don't feel like you can be still here?" Brand asked curiously.

"I am restless." The Warforged admitted quietly. "Some things help. The garden. The chapel."

Brand grunted, settling back in his chair and lapsing into thought. The Vespertine sisters were a formidable bunch, for all that they resided on this backwater planetoid. They seemed to have their proverbial fingers in a multitude of pies. He wasn't sure if he trusted them with his Perdie.

His mustache quirked up in a wry grin, realizing that he was thinking of the Warforged like she was one of his own children. "Do what you think is best, Perdie. Perhaps the quiet will help you sort yourself out. Gods know we tithe enough to the church, maybe in exchange for our continued generosity they'll accept someone a little less fleshy than their usual ranks."

He got the faintest impression that Perdita was beaming at him, her whole body haloed with a strange golden light. But Brand blinked and the light was gone. He shook his head at himself, vowing not to spike his afternoon tea so strongly next time.

×+×

When the Empire came to the planet years later, they struck without warning.

Evening prayer had just finished, the last fleeting rays of sunlight peering through the simple leaded glass windows of the chapel. Perdita sat docile in the pew, her head bowed beneath her veil.

"It makes me glad to know that you've found some sort of peace and purpose." Brand commented, the now-elderly man ambling up alongside her. "Never put much faith in this church business, myself. Give me the Flow and a nimble craft and I'm a content man."

"Captain." She inclined her head. She had heard his sentiment many times before.

"I'm surprised you haven't gone out to chart the world, my dear. Your cartographer's gear will get rusty!" The former captain teased, settling down into the pew and patting her arm. "Surely, the Vespertine sisters ought to be spread?"

"It is dangerous." Perdita sighed. "I am trying. The Ferrarium Empire-"

"Bah, belay that codswallop here." Brand groused. "Bunch of nobles in stuffed shirts with too many guns and not enough good sense. Stole my good boy away and turned him into a simpering buffoon." He bowed his head, touching his thumb to his left cheek and then his sternum. "Thank the gods his mother passed on before he made that terrible choice."

An odd whistling caught his attention, and Brand cocked his head. His hearing had been shot for years, maybe he was imagining the sound-

The windows abruptly exploded inwards as an impact rocked the ground. Sisters scurried this way and that in panic, their veils fluttering like butterfly wings as they ushered the last few stragglers out of the structure. Brand, his ears still ringing from the first bombardment, felt a second one strike outside. Perdita was stiff, unmoving in the pew, so he seized her hand and made haste for the doorway.

"Perdie, we cannot linger in this place!" He tried to snap her out of it, her deceptively-heavy form slowing their flight. "It's the Empire, Perdie, we have to--" Through the haze of dust rising, the former captain caught sight of a massive dreadnought's keel flying low overhead. Rage burned at his soul; why would they come here of all places? This was a planet of agriculture, not manufacturing!

Perdita tilted her head, and Brand knew that she must have noticed the ship. "What is that?" She asked, her voice ticking up slightly in query.

"That is something that should not have turned its eye upon us!" Brand snapped. "Why the devil would they-" There was shouting up ahead, and scattered pistol fire. "Martyr's malfeasance," the elderly man swore, "I ought to have known."

The Inquisitors had arrived, bearing overpowered arms and causing chaos as was their want. Brand managed to slip around the edge of the advancing line, searching the crowds for Testin's large form. His old first mate was nowhere to be seen and Brand's heart sank.

An Inquisitor loomed up out of the smoke in front of them, halting the former captain in his tracks. "Identify yourself, civilian." The armored man droned.

"Or what? You've already blown the chapel and convent to pieces!" Brand spat. "What could the Ferrarium Empire possibly want from a sleepy little colony planet?"

The Inquisitor's baton met the side of the elderly man's head with a dull thud, felling him with ease.

×+×

Brand started awake, hacking and wheezing as he inhaled ash. He sat up, ignoring the throbbing of his head. Where is-

"Perdita!" He yelled, struggling to his feet and cupping his hands around his mouth. "Perdie, where are you?"

The cobblestones underfoot had been broken and scattered by the mortaring, making the footing uncertain. The former captain stumbled forward over the rubble, continuing to call for the Warforged.

A shimmer of red and gold flickered through the hellish smoke up ahead, and he fancied it might be her habit. His suspicions proved correct as her frail form solidified out of the clouds of billowing dust and ash.

"Perdita!" Brand exclaimed gladly.

She turned slowly at the sound of his voice, that damned veil still flapping fitfully in the turbulent air. Beneath the gauzy shroud where her domed head was, the former captain saw something blaze to life. Eyes, hundreds of them, glowing through the fabric. Brand stopped in his tracks, uncertain of what he was seeing. That blow to the head must have rattled him, now he was hallucinating!

Her hand pressed to her chest over the long habit. "I am the bastion." Perdita said calmly, as though they weren't being bombarded by low-flying aircraft. "I am Vespertine, I am Alizarin, I am reborn. My name is Aurelezra, and I fell to defend."

A shell plummeted from the sky and with a single motion, she obliterated it. One moment it was there, the next, she simply pointed at it and a shimmering golden manifestation that resembled an enormous rose blossom appeared directly in its path. The shell struck it, the impact sending foiled shrapnel flitting listlessly to the ground.

Brand was wholly bewildered. The only other time he had witnessed such power was when-

The thousands of eyes swiveled to stare at him, blinking rapidly. Brand swallowed hard. "What did those blasted nuns do to you, Perdie?" He asked, his voice so low he wasn't sure if she would hear it over the pandemonium.

Perdita tipped her head to the side, those eyes writhing and teeming nauseatingly over one another, flickering through the habit in a way that made Brand exceedingly glad she was wearing it. "I am the bastion." She repeated. She sounded hideously serene. "I am Alizarin."

Rifle reports barked through the air and Perdita turned towards the noise, setting off over the debris with sure steps. "Wait, Perdie!" Brand protested, fumbling after her as best as he could. "Perdie, are you mad? These are Inquisitors, you can't just..." He trailed off as he watched her simply walk through the line of gunfire. "Or perhaps you can." He muttered.

A strange golden haze shone around her body and every time a bullet struck the haze, a malevolent eye roiled to the surface to fix the attacker with a blazing stare. More shells rained down and each one was foiled or thrown off-target by shimmering, sunset-hued roses, blossoming riotously to life in midair like some grand fireworks display at a midsummer fair.

"Captain!" That was Testin's voice, thank gods. The elderly man turned this way and that, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally spotted the towering mass that was Testin.

"Testin my boy, you're a sight for sore eyes!" Brand said with a wry grin, taking in the small cluster of nuns that were teeming anxiously in the shadow of the massive automaton. Among them was the Mother Superior, her black veil a stark contrast to the usual red. "You've got some explaining to do, woman! What the hell have you done to my Perdie?" Brand thundered, itching to shake her until her teeth rattled.

"Sister Perdita has spent many, many hours reading the scriptures and studying our texts, Captain Gentle." The woman replied, almost infuriatingly calm. "She was brought to this planet for a specific reason."

"What are you on about? Look at her! It's like she's possessed!" The elderly man shouted.

"She has become more, Captain. A vessel for something that we mere mortals have only glimpsed. Alizarin, the Red Saint."

"There's a thousand blasted eyes all over her and she's sending out starbursts of roses that intercept cannon fire!" Brand roared. "I'll only ask once more, what have you done to her?"

"She willingly accepted this power, Captain. I suggest you calm yourself. I know you do not believe or trust in the power of the Red Saint, but Sister Perdita does." The matron retorted haughtily. "And when Libertia was alive-"

"Keep my wife's name out of your mouth." Brand snarled, his hand instinctively twitching down towards his hip for the piece he had carried in his younger years.

"Easy now, Cap." Testin intoned, raising a hand. "Easy."

"You planned this from the start." Brand accused the woman, a sick sense of realization blossoming in his gut. "You put the idea in Libertia's head, didn't you? Why Perdie?"

"Warforged make excellent vessels." The Mother Superior said simply.

Testin rumbled in threat overhead, one large hand settling heavily on the woman's shoulder. "I suggest you choose your next words very carefully." The Warforged paladin's tone was one of extreme irritation. "Unless you'd like to find out how bad of a vessel I can be."

"She has become a warlock of exceptional power." The woman hurriedly continued. "The Red Saint is pleased with our offering, and he will-"

"The Red Saint, aye? Unwilling martyr himself." Brand scoffed. "You've gone and turned my girl into a nightmare for the glory of that flayed demagogue."

"A nightmare that can go toe-to-toe with Inquisitor gunsmithing." The Mother Superior shot back smugly. "You knew as well as I did that it was only a matter of time before the Ferrarium Empire turned their gaze to the Fringes. Their grasping for resources is ceaseless."

"As interesting as your bickering is, we're wasting time." Testin growled, gesturing vaguely forwards. "She's gaining on their dreadnought. We following her?"

×+×

Everything was so loud.

"It is time, Aurelezra." His voice was like smoke, like whispers. He drew her attention upwards to the ship, He guided her hands as she wove the spell and He found her the suitable target. "They will not take this planet. They will never take again."

Perdita nodded shakily, power dripping and sparking from her fingers. "Never again."

"You have done well, Aurelezra. You easily outstrip the mortals." He praised as she raised her hands. "I shall do such wonders through you."

×+×

Without warning, a bolt of red light shot from Perdita's hands and arced up at the command ship. Testin swore loudly, the Warforged's face twisting into an approximation of a grimace. "Oh, that's not good." He said hoarsely, leaving the cluster of nuns behind as he moved forward.

"What, what's happened?" Brand asked frantically, trying to keep up.

"That was something that uh, I wouldn't have used. A little too spicy for me." The Warforged grunted, readying the hand cannon integrated in his left forearm. His heavy, elephantine feet easily crushed the rubble beneath him, clearing the way for the former captain. "If everyone on that ship isn't dead after that spell hits..."

"What?" Brand gasped.

Testin shook his head mournfully, not finishing that trail of thought. "We need to figure out where the ship will go down. Figure out whether we can break it apart ahead of time or whether your Perdie has a few more Red Saint tricks up that veil." Testin's sigh was heavy. "I'm sorry, Captain."

The command ship began rapidly losing altitude, listing slightly to the right. Perdita pursued it doggedly and Brand watched her raise her hands again. "Perdie!" He shouted, heartened when she paused. "Stop, Perdie!"

"Stay put!" Testin yelled, then said, "Cap, either get onboard or get left behind, we don't have time for your old bones."

Brand growled something uncharitable about his former first mate, then swung up onto the pro-offered arm.

Testin sprinted forward, easily catching up to the waifish Perdita and grabbing her around the waist with one massive hand. "I'd like to shake the marbles clean out of your chest right now, but we don't have time for me to be pissed off at you." Testin snarled at her, still at his full sprint. "You got anything else in that arsenal of yours, or are you gonna' let that ship crush someone's farm?"

"I can do it."

"What, exactly?"

Perdita pointed upwards at the ship and simply said, "shatter." A massive golden rose exploded into being on the keel, blowing a hole in the hull the size of the town square. Splinters and beams rained down, Testin barely managing to dodge a few of the larger chunks.

"Martyr's malfeasance, you're a menace!" The larger Warforged said in disbelief, the cannon in his left arm whirring to life as the ship sank within his range. "I mean, keep it up, but saint's blood you are an absolute terror." His cannon glowed, shoulder tight when he fired and sent the projectile rocketing upwards to erupt in a radiant blast. "Not fancy, but any port in a storm." He huffed, trying to chamber another round without releasing Perdita.

"There's so much." Perdita was shaking in Testin's grip. Molten gold trailed from her fingertips and every eye that shone through the veil was wide open.

Brand clambered across Testin's shoulders, the elderly man reaching out so he could grab one of her hands. "Listen to me, Perdie." He said loudly, trying to make sure she could hear him over the rapidly-approaching creak of timbers and warning system alarms. "You've got some kind of hellfiring power now, right?"

Perdita nodded slowly. "He's so loud." She breathed, and Brand knew with crushing certainty that she wasn't talking about himself or Testin.

"Aye, I'm sure he is. But if he wants to have you as his vessel, he needs to understand that you're the captain." Brand reasoned fiercely. "You bite back at that freeloader and you tell him you're the damned captain, you hear me girl?!"

×+×

I'm the captain.

Perdita clung to the thought, staggering through the red haze of her subconscious.

I'm the captain.

Alizarin nodded in acquiescence. "That you are, Aurelezra. For now. For this moment. What will you do?" He chuckled. "You are unfamiliar with such power. You have already overdrawn yourself. What will you do, Defender?"

It doesn't matter whether I'm tired. I'm the captain. Me. Not you, she thought stubbornly.

×+×

Perdita clawed her way up Testin's arm to his shoulder, the larger Warforged rumbling in confusion. "What the hell are you doing now?"

"I'm the captain." Perdita said sharply. Blast after golden blast was flung by her hand, the ship groaning under the assault. Timbers cracked and creaked like the ship was caught in a ferocious gale. "I'm the captain!" She yelled, "I'm the captain!"

The dreadnought rent itself apart at the scuppers with one final impact, briefly looking like the massive ribcage of some eldritch horror. The engines tore free of their mooring, the shriek of metal heralding doom for the trio as they plummeted downwards. Testin tried to backpedal, but he had built up such a head of steam and the engines were so enormous-

Brand fumbled to catch Perdita's hand once again, closing his eyes as he heard Testin grit out what he assumed was his final swear.

Looks like I'll be home soon, Lib.

"A Bastion for my faithful." That was not Perdita's voice. It was barely a whisper, smooth as silk and light as a favorable breeze. "Blessed are you, Brand Gentle, for you have seen my power once before. Blessed are you, Brand Gentle, for you have survived my power once before. Blessed shall you be, Brand Gentle, though you do not believe."

A golden dome sheathed the triumvirate of individuals, millions of eyes scattered across it opening and closing at random. Brand gripped Perdita's hand as tightly as he dared, uncertain if he was the only one seeing this...wonder.

"Fear not, Brand Gentle. She will not be harmed."

The dome vanished and Testin fairly seethed with curses, the gray-green Warforged reeling back a step from the flaming wreckage of the engine that surrounded them. A neat circle had been sheared out from the dome, the edges still molten and smoking.

"That's it. Whatever's gotten into you, I'm tearing it out of you!" the paladin announced, grappling Perdita around the waist again. "Send that cosmic bastard back to the Deep Reef where it belongs, I-" He paused when she went limp in his hold, lowering his glowing right hand after a moment. "Uh...Perdie?" He asked warily, shaking her until she rattled. "Perdie?"

"I'm the captain." She responded, her voice reedy with exhaustion. Perdita reached out to Brand, and he carefully laced his fingers through her own. "I-I'm the...captain..."

"Aye child," Brand murmured, "that you are."

×+×

The whole colony banded together to scuttle the dreadnought's bones. The Vespertine sisters made themselves marvellously useful when it came to putting the dead to rest.

Most of the ship's crew had been slaughtered by whatever Perdita had done with that spell, and the few left alive had perished on impact.

Testin had grunted in satisfaction as he surveyed the red veiled sisters scurrying to and fro in the wreckage. "I think your Perdie just fired the galaxy's largest warning shot."

"Aye." Brand had agreed wearily. "Now all that's left to see is whether the Empire will take notice."

"Their dreadnoughts aren't usually...destroyed, Captain. Once word gets back to them, all hell's going to break loose." The Warforged predicted grimly, his arms folded over his chest. "You'd better make sure she clears atmosphere before they come back around."

"I don't think I could make her stay!" The former captain chuckled. "She's always been on the move, Testin. High time she did something with all that energy."

×+×

"The Gotengo has been moored for years, Captain. You think it can still hold up?" Testin mused, poring over the old schematics.

Brand sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "It's the finest craft I have at my disposal, dusty or not. And she'll need something nimble if she's planning on trekking out there through the blockades." He meandered to the window of his study, staring down at his rose garden without actually seeing it. "I've already gotten in touch with Squire Deering, and he claims he's found a slew of candidates for her crew."

Testin snorted in disbelief. "And you trust that penny-pinching miser? Guy probably trawled through three different wharfside taverns and asked for able-bodied seamen."

"Deering may be a...bit tight fisted, but he's a good man. I have great faith that when Perdita arrives, she'll be shown nothing but courtesy." Brand assured the gray-green Warforged, stroking his mustache.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I distinctly remember that waistcoat-wearing ponce saddling you with a ship that had a rotted out mainmast." Testin deadpanned. "What did he blame it on? Moths?"

Brand coughed awkwardly, clearing his throat. "Regardless, he will treat her right. Warforged or not, she's the captain."

"A new Captain Gentle." Testin shook his head ruefully. "Never thought I'd see the day. Bodes pretty shit for the Empire, if you ask me."

"All I hope is that she and that blooded saint first mate of hers give them hell."

[thatonebirbnerd]

Giving In

Word count: 2295

Trigger warnings: Suicide (but not exactly?), body horror, mind control, amputation, vomiting, a little swearing. Contains depictions of severe frostbite on a nonhuman, death, and mild body horror.

The Dream and Nightmare protect sylvari from corruption by elder dragons, but when someone like Siocánta (sho-KAHN-ta) rejects both, it's only a matter of time. She dreamed of Jormag, and her love of the cold and morbid curiosity may get her more than what she bargained for as she ventures north toward the dragon beckoning her. Sons of Svanir be damned: she'll find a way to be cold enough, even if it kills her.

So this is what I’ve been hinting at for the past few days. I really thought it couldn’t happen, but here we are!

AO3 link

It seems so long ago that I first heard its voice. No, not Mordremoth’s. We all heard that. No, I mean Jormag; for in my mind, the voice of one dragon was merely replaced with another.

I’d left the Nightmare Court by then, and was well into the Shiverpeaks, desperate to leave the stifling heat of both sylvari territory and civilization. As much as I liked the ideal of rejecting the laws of life and morality, I couldn’t believe how many of the courtiers genuinely enjoyed torturing neophytes - or how much I overheated even in the coolest reaches of its territory.

Even after Mordremoth’s death, a whisper nagged at the back of my mind, too quiet to hear. Was this the remnants of my link to the Dream of Dreams, trying to rekindle itself and find a lost soul? I certainly assumed as much. But as I reveled in the cold around me - finally, somewhere that didn’t feel like it was killing me slowly! - I felt pulled toward every shard of corrupted ice I encountered on my way northward. No, it was just the call of the void.

Well, it might have been, until it grew louder as I made my way into a Svanir-infested cave.

To be blunt, I realized I’d made a fatal mistake after it was too late to turn back. The cultists called me a wench and a slave to a dead, heretical dragon - but they figured that either I’d die here, or I’d become their minion if this somehow worked. What a fucked-up win-win situation that would be. But it somehow meant that they didn’t butcher me on the spot. Instead, they led me over to a secluded patch of frozen ground. Spikes of magic-clouded ice, gleaming blue and purple, surrounded me. As the Sons of Svanir bragged about their plans for me, for the first time, I could understand something the faint whisper said.

Let me help you.

Against all the judgement I had, be it better or worse, I let the cold creep in as I listened to what this strange new presence had to say.

I must have been in that cavern for hours, maybe even days. I sat there, alone and numb, with the inklings of words infiltrating my consciousness to keep me company. Every surface around me was covered in ice, and I saw myself change in each shimmering wall and crystal. The frost touched every corner of me with its magic, curling leaves and petals and tracing filigrees over my fading bark. Most of my armor fell off, dead and dry. I stared into the clearest facet I could find, refusing to blink as my once-green irises shifted to the bright turquoise of my surroundings.

But at some point, I simply gave up. Nothing had come to me to bargain. I was still alive, still sane, and apparently intact. I walked out - straight into a Vigil patrol.

Their norn leader spoke up first, a burly dark-bearded man. “C’mon. Get up. What’s a sylvari like you doing in a Svanir den? You’ve gotta have a death wish.”

A sandy-furred charr replied to him. “Hold on. She’s as frozen over as one of them. How does that…”

A sylvari - and let me tell you, I did not want to see another one here in the mountains - interrupted the charr. “We plants get frost. Figure this one’s no exception.”

“She’s not in good shape,” they continued. “And I’ve never seen eyes the color of that ice before, but hers are so bright I’m worried she’s genuinely turned. I don’t think camp has enough resources for what she needs. Get her to Hoelbrak.”

“I’m still a pathetic grandchild of Mordremoth, much to my chagrin,” I retorted. “I’m not quite sure what took me into that cave, but hell, I’m in one piece, and that’s what matters to you folk.”

The charr signaled me to climb on her back. “I’ve carried rucksacks bigger than you,” she wisecracked. “We’ve got no spare gear, and I figure you shouldn’t be in the snow even for another hour.” That bad, eh?

You can’t trust them. Kill her. No. Why would I bite the hand that feeds me? Couldn’t do that.

Which was probably a good thing, because my condition was that bad. Lost most of my fingers, and nearly my legs below the knee, but got away with just some toes missing. They’d grow back, but no telling how slowly. The charr got some of her friends to make what they joked were the smallest combat prosthetics they’d ever made, a pair of metal gloves with articulated fingers. Moving what remained of my hands let me control the gloves to grip things and do simple enough tasks - and at least I could fight.

---

But enough about my reckless four-years-ago self. It’s not even worth bringing up how I got this big old doofus of an ice drake. Thing is, I’m a lot further north now. I have the Vigil to thank for taking me on the long road up. And here, the whispers are a hell of a lot louder. They are now a voice. Jormag’s voice.

I’ve seen others of your kind here. Curious things, you sylvari are. Every single one of you is desperate for control over your own lives. I can give you that. And so much more.

After spending nearly a year stationed in Frostgorge Sound, I’ve finally made it to the edge of the world, as far north as anyone can go: Bjora Marches. Once the norn heartland, now the den of the ice dragon’s champion, Drakkar.

It’s so cold here. Yet not cold enough, even as I walk amongst glaciers. Everyone here can hear the dragon. It’s disturbingly soothing. Alluring, even. Its voice is androgynous, and able to morph into anything, usually the reassuring voice of a loved one. I cut all my ties long ago, but sometimes I hear the voice of a friend from the Court, and wonder what went wrong. Why did you leave? You could have brought so many with you.

You can’t trust the soldiers, Jormag tells me. They will say they want to help. They don’t. You’re better with me. But I’m not ready to believe that yet. Instead, I wander off.

The inland sea to the west of Jora’s Keep and the kodan settlement of Still Waters Speaking, once called Drakkar Lake, is completely icebound. I follow the frozen waters southward, past crystalline cliffs and treacherous crags. The lake is still at night, empty of kodan fishers, but I still have to evade Svanir as I duck into a lonely passage - one that leads to a moonlit cave.

It’s beautiful. And it’s… familiar. I saw this in my Dream, the Dream I swore to forget. Here, Jormag’s voice presses on my mind nearly as much as Mordremoth’s did. No, more than that. But instead of a headache, its presence exhausts me, in a way that just makes me want to fall into a deep, refreshing sleep.

Now that I think about it, I could sleep here. Give in. Sleep.

I could rest. Yes. Rest.

It’s freezing, but I feel warm. Hot, even. I take my coat and boots off, and snap off my gloves. I stretch what remains of my hands. You could stay here forever. Maybe I could.

I lie down, spreading myself over the smooth, icy floor. Some repressed instinct inside of me makes my bark scream in pain, threatening to spill its blackening death into my heartwood. Then it dulls as I go numb, and I let my consciousness slip away. For a moment, I hope it doesn’t come back. Why would you ever leave this place? But instead, for the first time in a decade and a half, I dream - a dragon’s dream.

---

I find myself in… is this the same cave? No. I’m still looking up at the sky, but in every other way, it’s different. A deeper voice growls around me, echoing against the walls, deafening yet near unintelligible aside from a single phrase: You are here…

There’s even more ice here, and it’s… green. How strange. I talk as I stir. My voice is not mine. My voice is the dragon’s. Something rises inside me, forcing the words out of my frost-chapped lips.

You have done well, child. I will give you the strength you seek. But you must first let go.

I stagger to my feet. My leaves are as frostbitten as they were in that Svanir den. My fingers and toes are still stubs. Every movement I make is wrong, every joint at once tense and limp. My head clings to my neck at an odd angle. It could snap, and I could fall down. I am a puppet. Jormag’s puppet.

Ice fortifies. Ice protects. Yet you still fear that which can save you?

My veins are still. My sap is frozen, expanding, ready to burst out. The cold fills every cavity of my body.

I limp to a gleaming wall, smooth and polished as a mirror. I see myself. I am not myself.

This is what you could be. With me.

Don’t you like it?

I can’t respond. The chill creeps up through my throat, seizing my tongue.

My limbs creak, laden with ice, as I reach for my neck in a panic. Then I keel over, tipped off balance, as my head swings forward. For a moment I can see my hands growing back, corrupted crystals pushing through the bark, the new digits covered in rime, before everything goes black.

Then I wake up, gasping for air, still the same old me, in the same place I was before I drifted off.

Jormag continues to plead to me as I put my armor back on. Don’t you want this? Don’t you want what you lost?

The stumps of my hands and feet have lost feeling, and darkened to an ugly shade of blue-black. I can’t lose more of myself and still fight.

I have no choice but to say yes.

Then I will take you, child, to the place where the ice is green.

---

The frostbite is bad enough that it’s hard to walk. But if Jormag says I’m not going very far, then I should trust it and push on.

Indeed, I only have to retrace my steps back to the center of Drakkar Lake. There is a tunnel leading beneath the surface. No one has gone in and come back alive, short of Sons of Svanir. I think I know why.

Everything in the tunnel averts its gaze from me. Must be Jormag’s blessing - because I’d be too slow not to get caught by any of its minions in here.

I’m stumbling, now, as I wind through this strange new cavern. But it isn’t long before I see it: green ice. Not this chamber. Not yet. Soon.

I’m warm again. I leave my armor and gloves behind. My arms and legs are numb. I have to crawl.

Just a bit more. Come on. Not much longer. But the entrance to this chamber, the one I dreamed of, is a ledge. It must be a twenty-foot drop to the ground below, and I can’t walk, let alone climb-

Jump.

If you say so, Jormag.

It takes all my strength to get to my feet and brace myself. I fall, and for a moment I’m aware that my head is… in the wrong place -

---

Is this the end?

No. Not for you. I have plans for you.

Get up.

I’m… awake? So cold. Talking. Not my voice. Familiar… that dream… YOU ARE HERE. I’m moving. Stiff. Ice all over me. Ice inside me. Neck feels… wrong. Cold is good. Finally enough. But need my coat…

My arms… they… hurt! Not numb anymore. Not black anymore? Trying to scream. Something in my throat. Can’t… breathe!… no… don’t need to breathe. Wait - my hands, they’re…?!

Calm down, child. Let it take hold. Take your weapons.

They’re so… beautiful. I can… move my fingers. One by one.

Your dagger broke. But you can do better than that.

AGH! - still choking back something - a spike of ice is… coming out of my hand. There are more coming… all over my wrists. The reason they hurt. They’re so… swollen…

Take the big one. Snap it off. See? It’s a new dagger. You’re welcome.

Thank… you…

Need to bend over. My neck - oh, no. Have to… fix that. There we go. Something in my mouth. I gotta… urgh.

Everything inside… the shards… won’t stop coming. There’s spit frozen on my lip. I try to talk to Jormag. The only one who will listen now. All that comes out is ice.

Now go home. They will let you in. Then you kill them.

---

“I’m not sure what happened to that strange sylvari, the one with the mechanical hands who kept insisting she liked the cold. She came back to camp last night in a silent daze after wandering off a few days ago, leaving her drake behind. We placed her in the infirmary immediately, as her frostbite seemed so severe, she should have been dead. I say “should have” because she summoned icy daggers out of nowhere and utterly butchered the medics who were about to save what they could, then fled. Someone told me there were crystals all over her arms. I heard someone else say that she opened her mouth to speak, but frozen flowers and petals fell out instead. She’s… she’s a sylvari. She can’t be icebrood. Can she?

“Spirits save us from her deranged wrath, but we can’t speak of her anymore. For as the kodan say, her voice is not her own.”

- Final notes in a fallen Vigil soldier’s notebook

[hirazuki]

I am such a fan of your cosplay, but I wanted to ask. Who is your favorite character to portray? Yes, I know, I’m biased as to my favorite of yours...but I’m trying to expand my anime consumption and was interested to know who inspires you! 🐾💜❤️

Hiii!!! 💜

Under a cut because this got long! 

It’s kind of hard to pick a favorite character from my cosplays, just because I only cosplay characters that I deeply identify with – I know lots of people who will cosplay because they happen to like the character design or because a friend is looking for a character to complete a group, etc., and that’s totally awesome! But for me, in order to put in the time, effort and money needed, I need to relate to the character on a very personal level. No single character completely describes me 1:1 as a person of course, so you could say that all the characters I cosplay show different facets of me, so it’s difficult to pick just one. 

Lotor has definitely been a huge inspiration, and I think it’s been partly due to the fact that I tend to work out emotions (especially negative ones) through creativity – I would certainly have loved him just as much if he had gotten a storyline that made sense and that he deserved, but I’m pretty sure my content of him wouldn’t be nearly as driven if it hadn’t been made as a reaction to canon (and fandom lol).

From the characters I currently cosplay, I’d say I have the most ideas for Lotor (yes, more still :D), Hijikata from Hakuouki (which is both an anime and visual novel series that I highly recommend, especially if you are interested in Japanese history), Azula (for the opposite reason from Lotor, her character was so superbly handled that I just want to celebrate it), and Light from Death Note (super awesome aesthetic to work with, and also one of the most incredible series about human nature I’ve seen). My ideas for Hijikata are currently on hold as they require the whole main group, and though I do know people who cosplay each character I’d need, we’re not located anywhere near each other T_T But one day, hopefully at one of the cons next year, we’ll be able to meet up!

There are lots of characters I haven’t gotten around to cosplaying yet and from those, Ulquiorra from Bleach is at the top of the list for inspiration/ideas. I actually have at least three Bleach cosplays planned, one of which is an OC, and a ton of ideas for photos and cosplay music videos, as Bleach is one of my favorite series of all time. I highly recommend the anime, it has compelling characters, gorgeous art, amazing voice acting, and one of the most exquisite soundtracks I’ve ever heard. The manga ending (the anime stops one story arc short of the manga) left me about as disappointed as VLD did, for different reasons, so my drive to create for it is super strong. It’s going to take a while though, as I need to find a videographer and several other cosplayers.

Shigaraki from Boku no Hero Academia is also at the top of my current insp list, he’s another sympathetic antagonist whose backstory hits a little too close to home. I’ve identified with him from the very beginning, but we recently (like, in the past couple of weeks XD) got his origin story and he’s gone from “oh I’ll cosplay him someday” to “I need to cosplay him NOW.” The mangaka’s writing is excellent and the whole series is really good, so I’m letting myself be hopeful for where he’ll end up, buuuuuut if you wanna hold off on checking it out in order to potentially avoid another Lotor, Dany, etc. scenario, I completely support that.   

Itachi from Naruto, Youko from The Twelve Kingdoms (Juuni Kokuki in Japanese), and Nobunaga from Drifters are all on my soon-to-cosplay list too, but lower priority. All three are excellent series; Naruto is super duper long at 600-something episodes I think, but the other two are very reasonable – I think 60-something eps for Twelve Kingdoms, and only 12 for Drifters (I’m still waiting on that second season they promised lmao). I also highly recommend Fate/Zero, even though I don’t cosplay from it. I do cosplay from its sequel, Fate/Stay Night, which is also an amazing anime, but Zero is definitely the winner of the Fate series for me and at its core it deals with the premise of the trolley problem in an extremely poignant and mature way that makes me wanna bawl my eyes out even years later

As far as ideas for specific photos/poses, I mostly get inspired by music, because I have the bad habit of being unable to listen to songs without often associating them with various characters. Lyrics usually cause a certain image to pop into my head, whether that’s a very specific pose or a more general concept for a photo or video, and will pester me relentlessly until I get the idea out of my system somehow XD

[tevokkia]

⭐star⭐ for perfect blend!

Thank you for the ask!

Okay, wow … where to start. I know I’ve said a few things about this before, so I may end up repeating myself a little bit for context.

Perfect Blend was the first McHanzo fic I started working on in March 2017, and was titled “tea shop au” for months until I thought of a name. The first paragraph originally went like this:

It seemed as though Hanamura Fine Teas on Rose Street must have beena fixture in the community for years, nestled between a usedbookstore and a stationary shop in one of those neighborhoods with aquaint, vintage feel. The fact that it only opened two months ago wasa testament to the loving care and attention to detail that theowner, one Hanzo Shimada, had put into the place.

At the time, I had a very long story planned, and this was the first part of the preface. The Word doc contains the preface I didn’t use, early versions of chapters 1 and 2, and parts of Oh Say Can You See? that were going to make up the basic structure of Act I. Then I got frustrated with it and it sat for a whole year.

Perfect Blend was originally intended to be a lot more serious, and it was the structure I had built that had frustrated me; I wasn’t entirely sure how to write their relationship because I didn’t know exactly what each of them were getting out of it. The plot was supposed to go like so:

Preface: Introduce characters

Act I: Go from meeting to “in a relationship” (Essentially Perfect Blend as it was published plus Oh Say Can You See?)

Act II: Develop the relationship, but begin to indicate early on that Jesse is uncomfortable with Hanzo paying for everything; it makes him feel like a poor boyfriend who’s unable to contribute to that facet of the relationship. Hanzo doesn’t understand the seriousness of his protests, assuming they’re out of politeness; he is still in a Japanese mindset, only having been in the US for about a year. Jesse finally loses it, they fight, he storms out with Oakley. He’s been staying with Hanzo lately (at some point in this act, Jesse has bought a ring and has been carrying it around with him), so Hanzo doesn’t know where he’s going to go.

Act III: They mope and pine and are generally a couple of hot messes, neither of them feeling able to reach out to the other one. Jesse starts having the nightmares that had subsided a bit with Hanzo sleeping next to him again (he’s mostly crashing on Fareeha’s couch). Their friends try to help, but they kinda’ suck at it. The last scene of the act was to mirror the first scene of Act i, with Jesse coming back into the shop.

Here’s the scene, ‘cause I’m pleased with it but am no longer going to use it:

It was a Tuesday afternoon and particularly quiet as Hanzo perched on his stool behind the counter, gazing absently at his phone with his chin propped in his hand. He had all but given up on willing it to ring, though he still held out on the hope that it would.  

While he knew he had to give Jesse his space, there was such a thing as too much space.

The door chimed and Hanzo looked up, first glad for the distraction and then slightly stunned as a dog walked into his shop. He wasn’t sure whether his heart was lodged in his throat or had stopped beating entirely, but his breath caught as his eyes scanned over to the cowboy boots that followed and then upward, resting on the ruggedly handsome face he had been missing.

Jesse looked a little more careworn than the last time Hanzo had seen him, and the dark circles beneath his eyes bespoke the return of his habitual bad sleep. Those eyes were warm, too many emotions in them to read all at once as he stepped further into the shop with an air of trepidation not unlike his first visit.

Hanzo still couldn’t speak, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes as he slid out from behind the counter, walking haltingly toward the door as though afraid what he was seeing was only his own wishful thinking.

“Hey there darlin’,” Jesse began with a bashful little smile, rubbing the back of his neck and letting his gaze slide away from Hanzo’s for a moment as though he wasn’t quite sure how to proceed. His voice was husky and near breathless, but still didn’t fail to strike directly to Hanzo’s core. “I … was looking for a present for someone. What would you recommend to say ‘I’m sorry’ to the man I love so much it hurts, and never wanna lose again?”

Feeling his face crumple and his cheeks grow wet, Hanzo surged forward to sling his arms around Jesse’s neck. There was a sharp intake of breath as the lead of Oakley’s leash clattered to the floor, and Hanzo was suddenly encircled completely in Jesse’s arms. Chests pressed together, Hanzo couldn’t tell whether he was feeling the pounding of his heartbeat or Jesse’s, or which one of them was shaking, or whose throat the sounds he had no name for was coming from, but he could feel the dampness of tears just below his ear and the hot, shuddering breaths that ghosted across his neck.

[Here is where they make up and there is the tiny box thing. Hanzo’s going to close his shop all the hell up. Who gives a fuck if it’s the middle of the day? Not them!]

Epilogue: Skipping forward, Jesse and Hanzo have been married for several years. Oakley has gotten old, and is trading in her service vest for a bandanna, Jesse moving her little sheriff star from one to the other. Hanzo is delighted to finally be able to truly spoil her, and Jesse has decided not to train a new service dog; he’s so much more stable being in a loving, long-term relationship that he feels he doesn’t need to. The end.

At this point, anything I write for it past Oh Say Can You See? will be more fluffy hijinks with the occasional serious moment like the first story, as opposed to the Serious Business that it would have been. I kinda’ have plans for a third installment, but it’s still in the idea stages right now, and I don’t have a cohesive storyline for it yet.

Things I added to the published story last minute: the gluten free organic non gmo tea mom (i laughed so hard while writing her because she reminds me of our customers) because I needed Jesse to get out of the shop before one of them stopped being chicken,  the receipt with Hanzo’s digits on it going through the wash (I thrived on all the screaming in the comments), all of chapter 5 because I needed the “pretentious bitches” line in my life and they both needed to spend some time with other people, and pretty much all of Genji’s lines.

Anyway, this is getting super long, but I’d be totally happy to expand on anything that anyone wants to know more about!

[crimethinc]

Steal Something from Work Day 2018: Three Stories of Employees Reclaiming What Is Theirs

April 15 is annual Steal Something from Work Day. Today, whether we like it or not, millions of employees around the world are stealing from their employers in a desperate bid to slow the process that is steadily expanding the gap between those who labor and those who profit. (Yes, even on a Sunday.) That makes it a good day to reflect on workplace theft. If you are confused about why people steal from their employers, review the Steal Something from Work Day FAQ or our colleagues’ text, How to Justify Workplace Theft. On the other hand, if you simply want to savor a few pulpy stories about workers who set out to get even, we’ve got just the thing for you.

Mind you, we don’t endorse any of the following behavior. We’re not trying to persuade you to drop a banner or engage in some kind of illegal activity! What we’d like to see happen is for those who violently impose the prevailing system of property and profit on the rest of us to think better of what they’re doing and help us create a world in which stealing from work will be impossible because there are no such things as property, work, or theft. Change their hearts and minds! Failing that, we hope you’ll enjoy the following (surely fictitious!) tales of risk and reclamation.

For more resources and other such stories, consult past Steal Something from Work Day commemorations:

2010

2011

2012

2013

2014

2015

2016

2017

Steal Something from Work Day in Sweden

Sno-Från-Jobbet-Dagen: The banner reads “Your job is eating you up—Steal a little back!” The line of the advertisement still visible below it urges “Don’t let pollen stop you this year.”

We received this anonymous video from somewhere in Sweden, where enterprising rebels celebrated Steal Something from Work Day 2018 a couple days early by promoting it to their fellow workers.

You can also read about Steal Something from Work Day in German and a variety of other languages.

Stealing from Work Is a Gamble, but It Can Be a Good Bet

In the repertoire of punk jobs there used to be a job known as poster tour. Many people who have spent a little time on college campuses can conjure a memory of this traveling spectacle. Picture it: a company orders absurd quantities of posters from overseas and sends forth its minions to market them to the gaping voids of personality that are the college students of America. The premise is that these first-year students, lost in the sea of their future, will desperately cling to any kind of material affirmation money can buy—to be specific, by adorning their dismally blank walls with beautiful portraits of the complex identities they’ve laboriously constructed throughout their lives.

By and large, the students’ poster selections involve a constellation of beer pong, action movies, bikini babes, the ever-present visage of Bob Marley, and some poem about Jesus.

The life skills needed for this job are similar to those required for other facets of the punk life style, especially for anyone who has been on any other kind of tour. You wake up and eat a sorry excuse for a hotel breakfast, then get in a van and navigate to an unfamiliar destination; the host of the sale might meet you to introduce you to your venue (the requirements for the role of host do not include being available, being present, having any idea what’s going on, or being sober); you set up your poster sale, painstakingly facilitate access to it, and watch the clock until the event is over. Then you break down the sale, head to the cheapest motel the company could possibly find for you, fill out a bunch of paperwork, and cry yourself to sleep. Repeat this the next day, and the next, and the next—for six weeks.

The job attracted outliers from several sections of society. The largest faction, due to the connections of our subculture and the viral nature of our relationship to employment, was the punks. Besides us, there was a smattering of hippies, weirdos, a few wild cards (including some non-subcultural, seemingly successful people), and a healthy portion of Europeans. People from the last category were in a unique circumstance. Through shady outreach efforts and middle-men, they were promised gainful employment in the USA—at a price, of course. The company made sure that the workers’ profits were drained from what they owned to the company for securing their employment, as many companies do.

To top it off, we were tasked with selling the drivel of American culture. In rural Kansas, I watched as a dumbfounded Czech person was asked about the TV show Friends. Then the confused college student asked his companion, “Why are there Russians on campus?”

It goes without saying: the system was rigged. The company set projections of how much they expected you should sell; you wouldn’t get paid above a meager daily base rate unless you sold more than their projections. It was an easy way to motivate workers while making sure they could never get ahead. The workers were instilled with the desire to work harder, in order to reach their projections and make more money via commission, while the company sets the numbers high enough that the workers never truly make a profit—yet blame themselves for this.

It was obvious from the get-go that playing by their rules wouldn’t get us anywhere. We needed to create a new landscape if we wanted to take advantage of this opportunity that was taking advantage of us.

The first step is always to get organized. At orientation, we exchanged contacts, made friendships, and vetted each other for trust. Mixing fun and subversion, someone uploaded a bingo board to a blog and shared the login passcode with others. (This whole story precedes smart phones.) The idea was that this would help us to keep in touch and report our winnings.

The squares on the board included a fun mix of communal misery (crying yourself to sleep, an easy square to win), impossibilities (going a day without selling a Bob Marley poster, which was never achieved by any team), hi-jinx (selling cute monkey posters to really tough sports-bros), and bad behavior (go skinny dipping, drunk dial the boss, meet with other poster teams on tour). The blog served as a break room for us to grip about our working conditions, share tricks, and foster a work environment that would be increasingly hostile to our employers.

We showcased our commitment to slacking and time-theft front and center. This was such a pillar of our work culture that there was no place for people who weren’t slacking and boasting about it. With the help of the blog, every day became a competition to see who could do the most outlandish offense to the job. At the same time, the blog also helped us to share information, which enabled us to work out how much profit we were making for the company: with over 50 teams at work, we were making the company about a million dollars a week.

We tried to organize a strike. Unfortunately, in the end, the strike did not really come together and the team who was leading it decided just to quit. Quitting seemed like the best option—until we learned what happened when you quit: the company had all kinds of sly rules to ensure that you lost your earnings if you quit prematurely. Worse still, you might end up owing the company money afterwards! The team that quit ended up having to hitchhike out of the company office, as a final insult to the work they had done already.

This incident transformed our small-time scheming into war. We had already been telling each other how to pull the small scams we all depended on to stay afloat while working. The company gave you a small stipend for food, so we used our food stamps and pocketed the money. The company paid for hotels, so we would camp or stay with friends and pocket the money. The company allowed for a percentage of shrinkage, so we made sure that percentage of posters “disappeared” and pocketed the money. Teams got creative: one bought a bunch of their own merchandise and sold it alongside the merchandise provided by the company. They weren’t found out until a college contacted the company to say that it was not OK for them to be selling “all this marijuana merchandise.”

The company noticed our sales weren’t meeting their projections, so they authorized us to have a 20% off sale. We charged full price and kept the extra 20%. When you’re in this mindset, the ball just keeps rolling.

In a Super 8 motel, I began to toy with a new idea. We dealt with lots of cash. How do you make more cash out of cash?

The answer hit me soon the next day as we drove by a riverboat casino: gambling.

Obviously, this was a bad idea. Countless movies, crime novels, and real life disasters start this way. Still, we passionately hated the company, we shared an affirming and subversive worker culture, and we had already gotten away with a lot. The fact that it was a bad idea was what made it so appealing: workers at terrible jobs are always looking for something self-destructive to do that might just take the whole enterprise down with them.

There was one problem—I knew nothing about gambling. I sat in the motel for hours scribbling out math and probability problems, the way so many people have done in motels near casinos. The prudent gambler would have consulted proper sources via the internet or the library, as many people have written extensively on gambling tactics. But I was motivated and in my zone, and after a few days of neglecting the duties of the job, I had worked out my plan.

I won’t get into the mechanics of the plan; I wouldn’t want to bore the reader or showcase its obvious flaws. Let’s just say I came up with a strategy that felt safe as long as I would be working with a large amount of cash.

To play it safe, I did a test run with some of the money I had earned already. I was really nervous—taking risks with money is completely contrary to my character. I also hadn’t been to casinos, so it was terrifying to watch people lose hundreds and thousands of dollars in seconds. I watched a couple who had just gotten married earlier that day, still in their wedding attire, lose more money than I was slated to make all year in less than an hour. I wasn’t cut out for this.

Still, I persevered, comforting myself with the thought that if I lost my own money, I’d just take it from the company and figure out some way to get away with it. Sure enough, a nerve-wracking hour or so later, I had more than doubled my initial bet. Like many gambling strategies, it worked in the short term.

The next day just happened to be an anniversary dear to jingoistic patriots. It always feels appropriate to do something irreverent to capitalism and America on such a day. We went into the casino, a battlefield of flashing lights and singing machines desperately fighting to keep you feeling like a winner while draining all of the life and money out of you. I’d heard that when you’re gambling, it’s important to have a stopping point—a goal you set beforehand to keep yourself in check in case the desperation of losing or the elation of winning takes over. I won’t disclose the numbers, but with the pretty penny squeezed out of all those Bob Marley posters in my hand, I set out to make ten times the amount I walked in with.

In casinos, they don’t want you to stop gambling. They offer free drinks to gamblers, free food, members-only areas, concerts, shirts, stickers, and all sorts of other useless crap to assure you that you’re a winner in hopes that you’ll go on gambling until you’ve lost it all. I couldn’t fall victim to this nonsense; I had a scheme supported by math problems I did on napkins. It was mechanical, cold, exacting, and required the cool-headed rejection of any kind of victory-induced excitement that could tempt me to stray from my path.

Dealer after dealer watched me make the same tactical choices, unfazed by the results. While most gamblers would think about their next bets and take time to place them, I had already done my thinking and was simply executing a strategy. I didn’t take any of the free alcohol; I gave it to my tour buddy, who intelligently decided not to participate in my harebrained scheme. Like a rising flood, my winnings slowly grew while I watched other gamblers win and lose thousands of dollars around me. After a full day of what must be called work, I achieved my goal. I had taken company money and made tenfold what I put in.

I experienced none of the feelings I project to be associated with gambling—I felt no elation, no highs and lows, no sense that my good fortune would enable me to steal the wealth of the casino. I did a math problem and it worked long enough for me to quit while I was ahead. Having reached my self-prescribed goal, I was free to revel in all the benefits that the riverboat casino had to offer. We enjoyed all the free bowling we could handle, ate free hot dog after free hot dog, and danced with middle aged day-drunk casino-goers to a band of older men doing a cover of “What I got” by Sublime (with several additional gratuitous saxophone solos).

The money I made came and went, as money does. But the feeling of getting yet another one over on the company that had engineered nothing but failure for its workers is something that I’ll carry with me forever. It reminds me that if I divert the energy and time that my bosses want me to invest in the job towards the more strategic goal of subverting my workplace, my fellow employees and I will come out ahead.

The Hard Stuff

On March 30, 2018, longtime anarchist and author Paul Z. Simons passed away. Paul was a determined rebel and illegalist; his writing is both lively and erudite. He published an article entitled “Take Things from Work” in Black Eye, a journal he helped edit some three decades ago. More recently, in “Illegalist Praxis: Notes on a Decade of Crime,” he outlined his own experiences stealing from work as a young person.

Bear in mind that Paul was writing about a different era, when surveillance cameras were less of a concern. But you’re not the sort of person who would consider doing what he’s describing, anyway, are you?

Before I begin, a disclaimer or two. First, I never knowingly physically harmed anyone. Second, most of my criminal activities were driven by survival, in some cases by desperation.

A quick philosophical footnote: money taken in crime is far sweeter than money earned. The fact that one relies on oneself, or a group, to outthink, outsmart, and outbrave some stupid boss and his security precautions turns ill-gotten gains into reward beyond compare. Plus, the hours, while short and nerve-wracking, are never boring.

Oddly, one of the best ways to begin a burglary is by getting a job in the store you plan to hit. In general, places that have loads of cash, that deal with deposits in a lazy fashion, and that trust you just enough to let you know that the burglary alarms are “just for show.” After a week or two of drudgery, you’re ready. The neighborhood is dead quiet at night, there are rear entrances that haven’t been used in years, and hopefully those entrances have windows. Timing is key and I recommend between 3 and 4 in the morning on a Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesday. The cops are all changing out shifts, the security guards (if any) are drinking coffee somewhere trying to stay awake, and the neighbors are all tucked in their beds. Windows can be easily removed by breaking through the glass with a cloth wrapped hammer and steel bars can be separated using a tire jack. If the back is lit by floodlights, unscrew them. For windows placed high, use a car as a boost to reach them. A quick dash into the establishment—to exactly the place where you know the day’s cash receipts are hidden—and out. A peek in the rear view mirror to make sure you’re clean—and gone. Like it never happened. The rewards from burglaries can be surprising: in one short twenty minute stint I walked off with almost $5000. They can also be disheartening; one burglary took almost an hour and netted less than $300—but that was the exception.

[magicmuscles]

Technical Steps to Frame Fitting

When ever selecting a frame, how do you ensure the frame fits the right way? Do you use a technical guideline or rely on customer feedback? Given that the eyewear industry expands the boundaries of frame model, eyecare professionals need to adapt the characteristics of the skeleton fitting process to the changing climate of frame models and styles. The technical steps to frame fitting is often a guideline that will allow each user the ability to quickly identify a good fit, while incorporating the needed fashion and function health benefits a customer requires. A technical fit will rely on four components: 1) Face shape; 2) Frame width; 3) Bridge style and size; 4) Temple length; in addition to 5) Lifestyle. Each of these components plays a vital role in helping select the frame for your customer. The Five Components to a Complicated Frame Fit: 1). Face Shape- Everyone has different deal with shapes, sizes, and features and this is why frame manufacturers provide many different types and styles of frames. The trick is to find a frame the fact that uses the customer's features to benefit their fashion necessities and overall appearance. Choosing a frame based on face shape is usually a subjective process because what may be considered appropriate dependent on facial shape may not be the look or style the customer likes to wear. Below is a chart that will help identify which sort of frame should be considered when looking at the shape of the customer's face: Oval face - Normal shape - Most shapes will likely be suitable Oblong face - Long shape - Full frame, preferably with a low temple Round face : Wide shape - Relatively narrow frame, preferably that has a high temple Square face - Wide shape rapid Same criteria as a round face Triangular face instructions Erect triangle shape - Width of frame should really equal lower widest part of facial area Diamond confront - Inverted triangle shape - Lighter looking style (metal or rimless) 2). Frame Width- A complicated detail that matches the width of the frame to the customer's face. The frame front should be wide enough to support a generally straight path from the end of the frame to the ear. Frames that are too wide or overly narrow can cause the customer discomfort, and can affect the structure in the frame, not allowing the frame to stay in adjustment. An effective way00 to determine if a frame is too wide, too narrow, or only right, is the position of the eye in the frame. Towards Wide: If a frame is too wide for a person's experience, the customer's eye position will be near the bridge on the frame. When this occurs, the customer will appear cross-eyed plus there will be a significant amount of lens material towards the temple facet of the frame. While this type of fit could work on products that are designed to provide an oversized appearance (i. e. sunwear), it is not recommended for clear lens designs.

To Limited: If a frame is too narrow for a person's face, you'll two key indicators: the eye position will be towards the serenaded side of the lens, and the temples will be touching the side of the face well before the ear, producing a "squeezed" look on the face. When this occurs, it is best to identify the eye size of the particular frame and avoid other frames that are below that observation size. Just Right: If the frame width is correct, the eye shall be positioned in the center of the lens and will produce a direct area for the temple from the frame front to the ear. If ever the position of the eye is not exactly centered, you should have typically the eyes positioned slightly inward towards the bridge instead of outward towards the temple. In cases where a customer has a narrow pupillary way away (PD), look at the position of the eyes in the lens first of all and determine if an adjustment to the temples can reduce as well as relieve any squeezing appearance that may be present. 3). Fill Size and Style- Once you have determined a good width for any customer's face, you now need to be concerned with the bridge form and size. This section is critical because the bridge supports 75% of the frame and lens weight. So a good bridge fit will help produce an overall comfortable fit. The primary variable that determines a good bridge fit from a bad link fit is the amount of surface resting flush upon often the nose. The more bridge surface resting on the nose, the proper weight is distributed equally, the more comfortable the framework will feel. Conversely, if there is less distribution of weight to the nose, or the bridge sits on a lesser area, the frame will feel uncomfortable and will create pain and tenderness for the customer. While there are techniques and tricks which will alter and improve the fit of a bridge, there is no replacement for selecting a bridge that initially provides a good fit. 4). Temple Length - Now that we have a good understanding about how precisely precisely the frames rest upon our face, we need to start up understanding how the frames hold themselves in place. The connection may support 90% of the frames weight, but the temples or wats will most likely require about 90% of the frames adjustments. Much like the bridge, temples that fit well are paramount when ever discussing the overall comfort and fit of a frame. A well-chosen bridge will often fit a patient's nose with little adjustment, while a pair of temples will always require some type of tailor-made adjustment to fit each customer individually. Get more info Like the correct bridge fit, a correct temple fit relies on placing the maximum sum of temple surface over the greatest area. When you fit a new frame, the temple weight should feel evenly displaced between the back of the ear and the front of the body. When a frame becomes uncomfortable, generally it is caused by a awareness of all the holding power the temple has on a limited vicinity. Another key indicator of proper temple length is certainly identifying where the bend of the temple takes place. A proper humor bend will begin immediately after the top base of the ear (this is where the ear and skull connect) and will had Kamara to the skull. If a temple length is too short, you will realize the bend of the temple begin prior to the base with the ear, placing maximum pressure on the backside of the mind. When a temple appears to be too short for the customer, it will be more best to select a different temple length (if available) or simply select a different frame altogether. Trying an adjustment for a temple that is too short will be time consuming and ultimately is going to leave the customer with an uncomfortable fit. If a temple timeframe is too long, you will notice the bend of the temple initiate after the base of the ear, thus making the frame seem to be unstable and loose. When a temple is considered to be too long with the wearer, an adjustment may be performed to properly in good shape the temple to the wearer's skull. If you had to choose between your temple being too long or too short, it would always be good to have more frame material to work with than less.

[pkaizen]

BEST TIPS FOR UX DESIGNERS

User Experience Design (UXD or UX) is the process of improving a website’s quality in order to satisfy users’ experience. Qualities include usability, accessibility, and productivity of the website. It is important for a UX designer to be highly creative in their work because it’s their work will decide whether or not a user prefers to stay on website, comes back later or just leaves and never be back. Hence, it’s the designer’s duty to make a website is impressive for the end user and also easy and simple to use. Here, we look at some of the top tips which will help every UX designer out there to make high quality websites.

Scrolling is more convenient than clicking

Users will continue to scroll down a website till it is providing clear and additional relevant information below the fold. You should always design a page which consists of strong visual content on the direction of scrolling, depending on the quantity of the content. Remember, scrolling is faster than clicking, so, avoid making a page too long or else if longer the website page, it less likely the user will scroll down to the page.

Loading speed of a website matters to users

Loading speed matters a lot for users even if it is just their perception. The thing that matters to users is the fact that your website should make it feel fast for them. A websites perception is based on loading time, loading behavior and smoothness of animations used. Texts on the website should always load before the images so users may start reading before the site loads completely. This will help users to stay connected to your website. If your website loads slowly then it will lead users to leave your website. A UX designer can do a lot to reduce the load speed.

Navigation

Your website should help users to navigate in an obvious way. If your web page is long then considered using sticky menus. Navigation menus should not change throughout the website; it should be constant. On mobiles, the most used navigation should not be hidden under a navigation menu. This is because hamburger menus can expand the menu on the click of a button, and reduce the space the page takes on screen. Use landing pages, submenus or in-page menus to make navigation easier on mobiles. Make sure the drop-down menu is in a vertical format and not horizontal. Login and search menu features should not be hidden to the users.

Links

Links are important for users to jump from one page to another of the same website. Blue colour text should be used to indicate hyperlinks and no other color. You must understand that links should look like links and nothing else. Users should know the kind of links as to where it is going to take them. Using blue color text or underlining for non-linked elements should be avoided. A reference link to full URL non-linked elements in websites should be avoided. Using a different color for different visited links of websites should be used to reduce memory load on the users.

Include search fields

A website, small or large, with less or more content, should always have a search field. Search fields should always be in a text box shape on a desktop. As a designer, make sure to include a search field on website which should be easy to be found by the user. Users using a website always try to find search field typically looking for “a little box to type in”. However, search field should be large enough for the user to type and see the entire search query.

Use accordions

An accordion is a bunch up of paragraph headers with their content hidden. When a user clicks on the header content it opens and only then it is displayed. Accordions help to reduce the size of a lengthy content on mobile websites. The obvious benefit of using accordion is that it saves vertical space, which allows more room above the fold. Using accordions has many benefits to the developer and the user, but there are drawbacks to it as well, so, avoid the following situations:

• Important content should not be placed inside an accordion.

• They should be used to frequently asked questions or link categories.

• Use them for checkout pages, because hiding each step makes it convenient for the users to focus on what is necessary to them.

About Us

Kaizen Design Studio is a multi-faceted digital marketing company in Pune with an unwavering focus on attaining numerous Uno status amongst advertising agencies in Pune. We do this through creativity, dedication, technological advancement, and unmatched customer service. Get in touch with us for the right marketing and advertising solutions.

Continuous improvement’, as our tagline reads, is the main principle of Kaizen. We at Kaizen Design Studio, strive to continuously improve ourselves and our services. We believe in pushing the boundaries of creativity, and setting new standards of achievement for ourselves. Applying these principles and more, Kaizen Design Studio has grown from strength to strength, and is now one of the most sought after, social media agency in Pune , India.

Contact Us

Sr.No. 20/3/2, Pashan Road,

Near to Maratha Mandir,

Bavdhan Khurd, Pune, 411021

Email Id : info@kaizendesignstudio.com

Website : https://www.kaizendesignstudio.com/

[xephinatheeleven]

Waking Nightmares

Word Count: 8,898

Summary: When Logan stays up and overworks himself, the outcome could have serious consequences. 

Warnings: Self-deprication

Pairings: Platonic LAMP!

—–

Patton paced in circles around the commons area, he hadn’t heard from Logan in days, since the logical side had chosen to lock himself in his room, in order to get his work done. While that wasn’t necessarily uncommon, there was something different about this particular situation. In times past, he had at least allowed Morality to bring him meals, but now he wasn’t even accepting that, he kept his door locked, and wouldn’t open it, despite their best efforts. His absence had become so prolonged, that even Roman had taken notice and joined in on trying to help; coming up with ideas on how to lure their friend out so they could see what had him so busy.

The eldest trait was aware that the intellectual aspect would recluse himself to maintain focus when Thomas was busy, but it had never for this long, especially without eating, and that was not to mention that that it had also been brought to the attention of the father figure that he wasn’t sleeping either. Virgil, upon request, had explained that during the late hours in which the others usually slept, the light which shown from beneath Logic’s door was never extinguished, nor had he been spotted leaving his room.

The sound of footsteps coming down the stairs jarred him from his thoughts, and caused him to jump from his place near the sofa. The moral facet immediately felt guilty as his heart dropped, he wasn’t unhappy with Anxiety’s appearance; he had just hoped it would be Logan, finished with whatever he was working on.

Shaking off the feelings, he looked over to the newcomer, faking a wide smile, and cheery disposition, “what’s up kiddo?”

The darker persona glanced over to him, his eyes looked dull with exhaustion, but in the same breath, clear and observational. Making it more than likely that he was doing what he did best, checking for discrepancies. “You know you’re supposed to be working on that, right?”

Patton tried to hide his shame as the question struck home with him; it had become apparent in one of the more recent Sanders Sides videos that he often covered up his real feelings in an attempt to be the happy persona everyone perceived him as. Recently however, he had been attempting to be more open about his negative emotions with the others, but it was too late to take it back now, “working on what son?”

The youngest of the four looked at him, his brow furrowing, eyes suddenly taking on a new spark of determination, “you know exactly what. You’re worried about Logan, but you're trying to mask it with a smile.” He felt even worse about his continued lie, he was feeding into a part of himself he didn’t like, and besides that, Virgil could see through almost any façade in seconds.

Morality finally let his happy demeanor drop, allowing what he really felt to show, “you're right…sorry about that, I shouldn’t have lied to you.”

The side dressed in black and purple merely shrugged as he stepped further into the room the determination now dissipating, “no harm done.” Casting his gaze around again, the anxious trait was probably taking in details Patton couldn’t dream of seeing on his own, but the observation he made was a simple, “I’m taking it you haven’t heard anything from the others.”

Just as the lighter character had been working on being honest about his emotions, his darker counterpart had been trying to not be as harsh spoken, while still staying true to his own personality, so he knew the inquiry had been about Logic alone. Still, in an attempt to work with his own issues and not seem as mean or excluding, he had expanded his question to Princey as well. He acknowledged his effort by going with the conversation, “no I haven’t…have you?’

Sadly, he knew the answer before it was given to him, “I saw Roman earlier, but I can't say the same for Logan.” Even though his main focus was on the rationale in question, he couldn't help but continue to notice how tired Anxiety looked. Obviously, he had put on more eye-shadow to mask the dark circles under his eyes and his shoulders were hunched forward as if he couldn't muster the energy to stand up straight.

"Virge...you should get some sleep," Patton continued before a protest could be made, placing a hand on the shoulder of the younger, "I know you want to try and figure out this situation as much as I do...but you can't help anyone if you're asleep on your feet."

The darkly dressed emotion shook his head, "danger doesn't sleep, so neither can I." Even though it was the same reasoning he always used when he couldn’t sleep, this time it sounded forced as if he were trying not to rest, as opposed to being unable to.

"We both know that’s not entirely true kiddo," he paused for a moment, trying to come up with a compromise. "Why don't you try and get some sleep now, I'll keep watch and wake you before I go to bed...how does that sound?" Virgil didn't seem too pleased with the idea, but it looked as if he was too worn out to try and find a way around the deal.

Judging by the way the anxious aspect was standing, using the railing of the stairs to brace himself, Morality guessed that there had been a longer lapse of time since he had slept than Logan. "All right...but just for a few hours, and you'd better wake me up by sunset."

Walking his son back to his room, he glanced towards second-eldest's door, "I'll wake you before I go to bed, that was the deal." The youngest facet rolled his eyes but walked into his corner of the mind-palace without another word. Taking a deep breath the moral embodiment strode up to the threshold leading to Logic's part of the mindscape. The four knocks on the wooden surface echoed through the hall, but there was no response. He knew it was a long shot, but he worried about his friend.

The sun had descended below the figurative horizon; the sunset was merely a visual representation of Thomas's sense of time. The clock now chimed eleven, and the other sides had tried on numerous occasions throughout the day to draw him from his room, but he couldn't let his focus be swayed. Somehow he had managed to get dreadfully behind in his work, he had no idea what had caused it, if it was a sudden change in Thomas's schedule, or something he had overlooked. Either way, he knew he had to get caught up soon; that meant he couldn't be distracted or disrupted. The intellectual trait knew he needed to sleep and eat, but he couldn't risk letting anymore work pile up, even if he was causing the others to worry. He knew they had good intentions, and just wanted what was best for him, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made to insure things went smoothly.

Logan's normally well-kept and organized room was now anything but that, the carpet and his bed, along with his desks had disappeared beneath a sea of papers. Pens now drained of their ink and crumpled worksheets filled the trash can and littered the floor around it. His handwriting had become progressively sloppier as the factual aspect grew more exhausted, only slowing the rate at which he could get his responsibilities finished. Moving his writing utensil across the paper, he ignored the protesting pain of writer's cramp, and aching of his head from eye-strain.

When Logic was done with the worksheet, he slid it to the side, and allowed himself a few seconds to breathe as he cleaned off his glasses. With the moment of reprieve coming to a close, he placed his spectacles back on the bridge of his nose, but nearly yelped at what he saw. Despite the white papers that covered nearly every surface and his insistence on proper lighting, his room had grown almost as dark as Virgil's. All of the lights were still on, but an impending shadow had covered the area.

He took a deep breath to calm himself; there had to be a logical explanation for whatever was going on. His thoughts were cut off abruptly by some sort of movement in his peripheral vision; whipping around, he tried to get a better look at the intruder.

He expected to see one of the other sides, who had finally picked the lock on the door to gain access, but just as he was about to reprimand them, he stopped. The person who stood in the corner was cloaked in shadow. So much so, that he was unable to discern the identity of the trespasser.

The rational persona sighed, "I do not see the humor in this, who's here?" There was no response, "quit fooling around, I need to get back to work!"

Whichever of the other three, who had somehow found their way into his corner of the mind-palace, didn't move, nor speak. He was like a darkened statue, who cast his gaze down at the floor. He wasn't causing a disruption, therefore, Logan decided it would be best to ignore the situation and return to his work. This had just been another set-back, and one that he couldn't afford, so he dare not delay any longer with whatever kind of game was being played.

Just as he moved to pick his pen up once more, a hushed voice came from the direction in which he had been looking only moments before. "None of them care about you...you know that don't you?"

Now the logical facet was even more confused, "pray tell, who do you speak of?" He didn't know why he was giving into such ridiculousness, perhaps it was exhaustion, but either way the words had managed to unnerve him as he guessed the answer.

"Patton, Roman, Virgil, and Thomas of course...who else?" The figure hissed the names with such confidence, that Logan was inclined to believe it.

He knew he should return to his work, but curiosity go the better of him, "I'm sure I don't know what you are talking about. I’m fully aware of what the others think of me, and as much as it may annoy me sometimes, they consider me family, just as I do with them."

The space grew darker after he brought his statement to a conclusion, and the outline of whoever stood in the corner seemed to glow with a sickly aura. His tone only grew stronger, "Do they now? You haven't seen them in days...what kind of family would leave you like that?"

"That is of my own doing. I've had quite a bit of work to get done, and still do, besides, they have attempted to check on me frequently. Now if you don't mind, I need to get back to this." Even with his calm demeanor, the words had only managed to further unsettle him.

As he turned back to the papers before him, he realized the room had darkened to the point that he could no longer make out the letters printed on them. "They haven't tried very hard, have they?" The factual side tried to suppress the chill of fear creeping up his spine, "all they've done is knock...never attempting to unlock or even open the door."

"They know I do not wish to be distracted when I am busy." He used exasperation to mask what he really felt as he looked back to the speaker, "as for you-"

Logic quickly stopped at the sight before him, four more figures had appeared, two on either side of the first apparition. Even though it was difficult to see through the inky shadows, the four were clearly his host and colleagues, "W-What kind of joke is this?!"

It wasn't the darkened figure who spoke, disregarding his question, it was the trait on the far left, Roman. "Honestly Logan, you're so different from the rest of us...you don't even represent an emotion...why would we care about you?"

Before he could formulate a response, Virgil's voice joined in. "Even I fit in better than you, all you can do is go on rants with words that the rest of us can't even understand!"

The intellectual trait was at a loss for words as Thomas stepped forward as well, unaware of how could his host be a part of such a cruel act, "didn't you get the hint in the Nostalgia video? We don't need you!"

"B-But I..."He trailed off as the final emotion’s vocalization rose into the eerie atmosphere.” With what you do, locking yourself away like this...do you really believe that I consider you family…especially my son?" The way Patton spat the last few words made his heart drop, there was no denying it now. This was the way the others perceived him.

Even still, the rational aspect struggled to formulate a coherent reply, doing his best to make sense of the deteriorating situation, "this c-can't be-"

He was cut off as the voices continued; repeating their statements time and again, overlapping, becoming a jumble of insults and hurtful words. They became louder, and as they did so, he could swear he saw the cloaked figure in the middle smile wickedly; threatening to push Logic's already frayed mental state over the edge.

It would be at least an hour before Patton would begin making his way to bed, and the worry he felt for his counterpart only grew. His heart heavy and judgment clouded, he made his way to Anxiety's door. Morality lifted his hand to wrap his knuckles on the dark, wooden surface, but it swung open before he had the chance. Virgil now stood before him, his hair disheveled and make-up smeared from sleep.

"What are you doing up kiddo?" This time he didn't try to hide his emotion behind a mask of happiness, the anguish that hung over him was to real.

The youngest facet’s tone sounded tired, as if he had only just awoken, "I haven't been up for long." He paused, letting his gaze sweep over to the door that cut them off from the logical embodiment. Light still shown from beneath it and quiet continued to fill the air. "I don't know what it is, but something is wrong."

The fatherly side felt a cold chill of worry rush through him, clearly he wasn’t the only one affected by the concern. Knowing that, he couldn't fathom how the one who stood in front of him dealt with these feelings at all time throughout both day and night. "W-What do you think it is?"

The dark character took a quick scope of the corridor, "I'm not sure...but whatever it is...we need to get Roman and go talk to Thomas."

"D-Do you really think it's serious enough to go to him?" He knew that the anxious personification didn't often approve of going straight to their host with problems, because that often worsened the online personality's fears. Moreover, he often didn't want to get the Prince and his, what the younger considered to be ridiculous schemes involved, so the answer was clear before it was given.

"Yes I do," he sounded more certain than the moral trait could ever recall. "I know what you may be thinking...I know what anxiety feels like...and whatever is going on has gone far beyond that." He stepped out into the hall, ensuring the door shut behind him, "and whatever it is...we need to resolve it soon."

Without another word, the pair of them made their way to the creative corner of the mindscape. When he opened the threshold at the sound of the beckoning, Princey looked taken aback at the sight of the visitors. "Can I help you?" He didn't have his usual proud and condescending tone, instead coming across as merely quizzical.

Not wasting a moment, Virgil jumped into the explanation, "Listen, we all know what's going on with Logan...but something has changed. I-I don't know what it is...but something has gone very wrong."

The normally cheerful figure fully expected the fanciful persona to snap at the Anxiety for being vague or over-reacting. Rather than doing that however, he joined them in the corridor, "well...what do you two propose we do?"

The aspect dressed in black and purple answered with a sense of urgency, "I don't know how to directly help him yet...but Patton and I have decided that we need to take this to Thomas."

The creative facet blinked at him in shock for a moment, "You think it is serious enough to go to him?" He halted for a second as if he were pondering the words. "If that's the case...then let us not waste anymore time."

With that, the three of them synced out of the mind-palace and into the real world, Morality glanced to his left to see his companions as they appeared in their usual places as well. Shifting his eyes up he saw a befuddled-looking Thomas standing at the top of the stairs, it was odd for them to show up at such a late hour, and apparently knowing that, he made his way down the steps. Virgil shuffled to the side, allowing him to pass, before he took his place as if they were going to film a video.

"Okay, so I know you guys wouldn't be here this late if it wasn't important, so what's going on?" His gaze drifted to the empty spot at the hall’s entryway, "and where is Logan?"

Patton took a deep breath before he began, "that's what we're here to talk to you about kiddo. Logan has reclused himself to his room to focus on his work...and while that's not unusual...he hasn't left at all in over a week. He hasn't eaten or slept, and won't speak to any of us. Then there's...well...I don't really know."

The anxious side picked up where he had left off, “I don’t know exactly what it is...but something has changed.” He paused, as if still debating with himself whether or not the situation was serious enough to get their host involved, sighing he continued. “It happened about half-an-hour ago, I don’t have a clue what it is, but there is something much more sinister going on now.” Thomas looked puzzled, but Virgil spoke again before he could respond, “I know what you are going to say, but know this, I am your anxiety. I understand fully what that feels like, and this is different.”

“I believe you...whatever has happened, I sensed it too.” It was hard to say, but the online personality almost looked ashamed. “I-I brushed it off, thinking you guys had it handled...not to mention that Logan overworking himself is my fault.” He looked at each of the three emotions in turn before his voice rose into the hushed stillness again, “with all the meet-ups, new merch, and trying to make sure the fans are still getting videos...I’ve been a bit stressed.”

“A bit?” Anxiety’s tired murmur brought Morality to the realization that whatever had been affecting Logic, was taking its toll on the youngest trait as well. Suddenly he could understand why the dark aspect hadn’t slept in so long, and wished there was something he could do to help carry the burden that the other two were carrying.

The YouTuber shuffled his feet on the carpet, “Okay...a lot. I know it has been pushing you to your limits as well Virgil…sorry.”

He looked uncomfortable at the shift in concern, but his voice maintained its level of intensity, “Don’t worry too much about it. I know that sounds ridiculous coming from me, but Patton actually managed to talk me into sleeping for a little while earlier, so I’m good.” The father figure didn’t miss the appreciative glance in his direction as the words were spoken.

The online personality seemed somewhat relieved by the statement, “back on topic, now that I know what’s going on...what do you want me to do?”

Roman, who had been quiet throughout the conversation, was the one to respond, “Logan won’t even acknowledge us, so maybe he’ll be more inclined to listen to you.”

“Basically kiddo, we’re asking if you’ll come back to the mind-palace with us, and try to help him.” The moral facet didn’t like the desperation that had crept into his tone, but now wasn’t the time to try and hide the worry he felt for his counterpart.

Thomas let his gaze sweep over the three of them, “of course I will! Let’s go.” Nods of agreement were the only replies as they synced back into the mindscape. “Wait...why are we upstairs? I thought the mind-palace was based on my current location.”

Normally the intellectual embodiment would have been the one to answer such a question, but Virgil stepped up in his place. “Only our rooms do that, and only in certain situations...it’s hard to explain, but we still have a commons area, kitchen and stuff like that.”

Their host looked around at the four doors lining the corridor, “alright...so which one is Logan’s?”

“Second on the right,” as the words left his lips of the lighter side, Thomas moved forward, knocking gently. There was a moment in which they all held their breath, hoping for a response, but the silence told them that there was none forthcoming.

The online personality looked back at them as if unsure of how to continue, but Anxiety stepped forward, clearly taking up the role as the voice of reason, “say something.” His voice was quite so as not to alert the factual personification on the other side of threshold.

“Er…Logan, it’s me, Thomas…could you come out here for a moment please?” Their host seemed uncomfortable, and became even more so when an acknowledgement didn’t directly follow.

The online personality had turned back to walk away, and regroup with the three traits present, when the logical aspect’s muffled voice broke the quite of the tense atmosphere. His tone was sharp, but there was more than just anger in his reply, the underlying horror and grief seemed to wash over all of them with an unexpected intensity. “What do you want? I got the hint, okay!” They looked around at one another in confusion, and Thomas appeared too stunned to speak.

“Logan…what are you talking about?” The youngest picked up the conversation where their host could not.

“Oh Virgil, you would ask!” There was a harshness to the second-eldest facet that none of them had ever heard before. “You don’t understand anything I say!” Fury glittered behind the eyes of the darker persona, but it was clear that the feeling was being repressed by worry.

Princey however, didn’t seem to pick up on the problem his colleague was thinking over as he joined in. “Look, we get that you're stressed and haven’t slept, but that doesn’t mean you can talk to Thomas and Virgil like that.” Despite the anger in his voice, Morality was proud of his son for standing up for the others.

Logic’s tone grew more venomous as he directed his words to the Prince however, “Why should I care, Roman?!”

He looked taken aback, even in the arguments the fanciful trait had with the others, this type of anger-fueled disgust had never been used against any of them, and it was that which infuriated the paternal side in Patton. “Now you listen here Logan ‘Logic’ Sanders! You are going to open this door this instant!” Virgil moved to stop him as he made his way to the threshold, but the father figure was so focused on his pursuit, that he didn’t register the concern in his eyes. “You are going to come out here and apologize to your family!”

The rational aspect shouted his answer from inside his room, “Family?! Now you call me ‘family’ Patton?! This is just cruel!” The way he spat the words brought the eldest to tears, what did he mean? He had always thought of the others as family.

Suddenly he was aware of Anxiety’s hand on his shoulder, “I don’t know what it is, if it’s exhaustion, stress, or something else, but Logan didn’t mean that. He’s not in his right mind at the moment…I think that’s what I felt earlier.” He took a deep breath before continuing, “we are going to get to the bottom of this, I promise.”

Thomas moved forward, pulling the now sniffling Morality away from the door, and drawing him into a close embrace. Virgil made sure his host saw the appreciative glance he gave before turning his focus back to the problem at hand. “Logan this isn’t you…open the door and let us help.”

“This is me, Anxiety!” He shuttered, no one ever called him that anymore, not after his name had finally been revealed a couple of months ago. Even before that, the term had never been used as a derogatory name towards him, and it was evident from the gasps echoing around him, that the others were just as appalled as he was. “Do I need to make that any simpler for you?!”

Virgil had thought he was ready for whatever the once-factual side could have thrown at him, but obviously he had been wrong. Rage sliced through the other emotions that the dark facet felt like an icy dagger; no matter what he was going through, Logic had gone too far. He’d insulted all of them, and even more than that, he had managed to strike a nerve with each of them.

“That’s it! I’m coming in whether you want me to or not!” As he growled the words, Roman tried to pull him back, but he wasn’t quick enough to stop the fight-or-flight reflex, and in that moment Anxiety chose fight as he lashed out with as much force as he could muster, kicking the door by its latch. There was a deafening crack, the frame splintering away from the wall, rendering the lock useless, and the door swung inward, allowing them the access they had wanted.

He stormed in, the others following close behind him, but quickly came to a halt at the sights before them. The room was more disorganized than they had ever seen it, there were papers everywhere, pens had been thrown with such intensity, that their plastic coverings had shattered against any surface they struck, spattering everything with ink, and on the far wall, a pair of scissors hung from where they had lodged themselves after being hurled in the same fashion as the writing utensils. Then there was Logan himself; as Virgil’s eyes rested on him, some of the fury he had dissipated. The intellectual embodiment sat at his desk, fists balled so tightly that his nails pierced the skin, causing drops of blood to speckle the white worksheets below them. Logic’s hair was disheveled, and his eyes glistened with the same wild nature of a cornered animal, but more than that, he was whispering something under his breath.

The youngest aspect listened carefully to the words he was muttering, “No! Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!”

Apparently the others heard it as well, because Thomas’s fearful voice rose into the near silence, “Logan…no one’s saying anything.”

The trait in question whipped his head around at the statement, and when he spoke his voice was low and guttural, but what made it all the more terrifying was the fact that he didn’t look at them, instead his eyes were trained on the far corner of the room. “Do you think this is funny? Changing things to suddenly make me think you all care?!”

Patton spoke in desperation, “Logan…what do you mean…we never stopped caring about you.”

Virgil missed the next few lines of the exchange as he thought over what Logic was saying, and how he was acting so different from his normal, calm, and confident manner. Suddenly the anxious side understood what was going on; he had seen it all before, more times than he could count. He was sorry that his friend had to go through such pain, and angry with himself for not having read the signs sooner, in his defense however, he had never seen the happenings from a third-person perspective before. Understanding the situation, the darker facet finally knew what needed to be done, and knew he would have to act fast, before the rational persona hurt himself further.

“Stop,” the word cut Patton off mid-sentence, and caused the three to turn and face him. “I think I finally know what’s going on…I should have seen it sooner, but the point is if I’m right, I know how to help Logan.”

Princey, who looked ready to lunge at the factual trait, was the only one to respond, “then get on with it Hot Topic!”

Anxiety took a deep breath, ignoring Roman’s slight, “okay, but I need you all to be as quite as possible. We need Logan to start whispering like he was when we walked in, so I can figure out exactly what’s causing this.” The others didn’t seem too pleased at the idea of sitting back and doing nothing, but they nodded in agreement anyway as they fell silent.

Moments turned to minutes, but after what felt like an eternity, Logic resumed his muttering. “No! Shut up! Why have you made it so dark?”

“Dark?” Virgil shot a glare the fanciful figure, if anything distracted Logan, they would have to start all over.

Thankfully the second-eldest didn’t seem to have heard the interruption and continued making seemingly senseless comments and questions, “why are you doing this? I need to get back to work! I get it! Just leave me alone!”

Now the anxious personification had a better idea of what was plaguing his logical counterpart; but he didn’t know if he would be able to fix the issue, still he had to try. Turning back to the others, he did his best to explain what he had figured out. “I think Logan has been awake for so long, that his exhaustion is giving him waking nightmares. Meaning, he can see and hear things we can't, because his mind is so tired, that his subconscious is waking his fears.”

Roman who still acted as if he had a vendetta against the frightened side, was the first to speak, “he’s a logical trait…can he have fears?”

Anxiety sighed, “Roman, everyone has fears.” He continued before the fanciful aspect had a chance, “and to say that you don’t is cowardice in the face of said fears.” While looking disgruntled at the answer, he didn’t reply.

Thomas looked close to tears as he drew their attention, “so what can we do? We can’t exactly make him go to sleep…can we?”

The darkly-dressed facet looked around at the others, “not yet.” He took a deep breath, not liking the idea of what he was going to have to do next, “This is the mind-palace…here nightmares can almost take on a physical form and appear as an apparition or phantom.” He couldn’t help but notice Patton look at him in dismay; it was the most innocent of them who knew the most about their situation, because it was usually him that helped Virgil through this exact process. “Their presence however doesn’t go unnoticed…it can send ripples through the mindscape…that must have been what I felt earlier.” He paused and the others remained quiet, waiting for him to continue, “To get rid of the nightmare apparitions…we will have to see what Logan is seeing.”

The Prince, who was clearly still agitated, voiced his confusions, “and how do you propose we do that?”

Patton’s quiet and frightened tone rose into the air before Anxiety could formulate a response, “Virgil…don’t… please, let me do this.”

He looked sadly at the father figure, who he knew cared for them all so much. He would do anything he could to help, and in the past had proven that he could, but this time Virgil feared he would be unable to, “you can't. To help Logan we are all going to have to see what he sees, and obviously right now, he can't see us at all, and I’m not sure that I will be able to make him see us. Either way if we can all see the nightmares, it will be harder for them to take control of any of us…” He trailed off and turned to face Morality alone, “besides, Logan doesn’t have the same defenses and experience that I do in facing the apparitions. I’m sorry Patton, but it’s too dangerous for you to do this.”

Thomas intervened, putting an arm around the normally cheerful side, who choked back a sob, “what are you talking about…dangerous?”

“As I said before, the nightmares could take control of us if we aren’t careful…and as much as I hate to admit it, I have the most experience in dealing with them first hand.” He let his gaze rest on the crying aspect, “Patton is normally the one that helps me through it…but I’m accustomed to dealing with them, and Logan doesn’t have that advantage, which means it would be easier for them to take control of Patton or any of the rest of us.”

“If they could take control of any of us…and you aren’t used to dealing with them the same way Patton is, then why would it be safer for you to face them?” There was no hint of sarcasm or anger in Roman’s voice now, only genuine concern.

He couldn’t lie to them, they deserved to know what they were getting into, “honestly I’m not that much safer than the rest of you, but if the phantoms target me…I can handle them first hand.” He paused for a moment trying to bear the burden of the shocked looks the others now wore. “If we can all see them, it will make it easier to avoid that. If I am aware of your presence once they begin to target me…I’ll be able to ground myself and do my best to ward them off completely.”

“So how are you going to do that?” Thomas looked nearly as worried as Morality did, but Anxiety couldn’t let himself focus on that.

He cast a quick glance to the logical facet, “I will be able, for a short amount of time, to expand my perception so that all of you will be able to see the nightmares too…” Virgil trailed off, he didn’t want to do this, he knew what the outcome would be, but he knew he had to. “Then once we can all see the apparitions I will do my best to combat and get rid of them…either way, Logan is in for a hard night.”

“We’ll help you!” The Prince reached for the sword at his side, but was stopped by the saddened look from the gloomier trait.

“You can't, once I expand my perception, the nightmares will be in my domain, so you won’t be able to do anything to them, besides a sword would do no good, it takes pure will-power to get rid of them.” The other three gazed at him helplessly, “The best thing you can do is stay where you are once this begins, so that I will be able to remember what is real and what isn’t.” He paused letting his eyes return to the paternal emotion, “and Patton once I get rid of the phantoms, I will more than likely be too weak to help Logan, so I’m leaving that responsibility to you, okay?” A weak nod and half-hearted smile was the only acknowledgement to his words. “Let’s get this over with.”

Virgil closed his eyes, focusing solely on what was plaguing Logic, casting his senses around the room to identify the presence of a nightmare. He would have to work quickly, as he could already feel his energy draining, and silently he thanked Morality for forcing him to get some rest earlier that day. Anxiety was astounded when he locked on to not one or two apparitions, but five of the phantoms in the far corner of the room. Opening his eyes, he expanded what he saw and felt; until the gasps of the others told him that they could see it too.

The room had become dark, the five figures hardly visible, but even in the inky shadows it was clear that four of them had taken on the appearances of Thomas, Roman, Patton and himself. The real version of their host’s shaky voice resonated from behind what sounded like a thick veil to him, “I guess that explains the anger directed at us.” He was right, but now, not only could they see the nightmares, but hear them as well, and suddenly Logan’s insults made sense, but he didn’t have time to ponder that.

Slowly, so as not to expend any more energy than he had too, he the anxious persona began making his way closer to the shadowed apparitions, all too aware of the other’s eyes trained on him, but his words were directed at Logic. Now that they were on the same plane, Virgil might be able to talk to him without the phantoms twisting what he said, “Logan, listen to this voice and none of the others. Try to focus solely on me.” If he could shift his attention, it would weaken the hold the nightmares had on the factual side. They seemed to know what Anxiety was trying to do, because without breaking their words to the mentally-frayed logical trait, they hissed in protest. On top of that they were trying to get inside his mind as well.

The fifth apparition flickered until its form resembled the one the dark aspect was trying to help. “Do you really think you can help me when you can't even help yourself?”

The nightmare that had taken on the appearance of Roman was the next to try and break him. “We got along just fine without you in the first two Sanders Sides Videos!”

“My Anxiety! That’s all you’ll ever be! You can't help Logan!” The apparition that had modeled itself after his host spat the words venomously in his direction.

Patton’s nightmare version however, said the words that hurt the most. “You with your own nightmares and selfishness in trying to leave the way you did…do you really believe I consider you my son?!”

The words stung like ice against Virgil’s heart, but as long as the phantoms were focused on him, their hold on Logan would be weaker, but even knowing that, it was difficult not to succumb to the lies that filled the air around him. His only defense was to remember that the real versions of the apparitions stood behind him.

Taking advantage of the current fragility of the phantoms, Anxiety tried reaching out to Logic again, “Logan! Focus on me and me alone! Rationalize your way through this! None of us would ever say or believe these things about you! You are as much a part of this team as the rest of us! You're part of our family!”

“F-Family?” The anxious facet had never been more relieved to hear Logan’s voice, even more so than at the end of the Moving On videos, but they weren’t out of the woods just yet. The nightmares could regain their control if he didn’t choose his words carefully.

“Yes! Family!” His strength was evaporating even faster as he focused part of his mind and power on pushing the apparitions back into their own plane for now. “If you and the others can accept me despite everything I’ve done, why would we ever try and exclude you?!”

“F-Family…accept…me?” It was clear that the factual side was currently frail-minded, but he was beginning to regain his grasp on reality.

“Logan, we all care about you!” Virgil struggled to get the words out as he worked even harder to temporarily ward the phantoms away. He wasn’t used to dealing with so many of them at one time; clearly Logic had suppressed his fears quite a bit to have this many nightmares trailing him.

“Th-The…the other voices…are they r-real?” The intellectual’s voice began to sound more grounded as if he were becoming more certain.

“N-No!” Pain sliced at Anxiety as he pressed on, the figures hissed angrily, but they had nearly let go of Logan now. “M-My voice is the only- the only one that’s real!”

Just a little further; the apparitions’ voices were barely audible now, and their forms were flickering like TV static. “Th-This…this is just a dream!” Logic’s revelation, partnered with what little strength the youngest aspect had left, was enough to rid the room and his friend of the looming, dark thoughts.

As the nightmares were pushed back into their own realm for the time being, Logan sat up straight and just in time too. Retracting his perception, the room lit back up once more. The white of all the papers was nearly blinding, but the darker facet’s vision was rapidly fading. Knowing that he had succeeded, that his friend would be safe with the others, and understanding what would happen to himself later, he felt the last of his energy give way, and Virgil crumpled to the floor.

Logan had no idea what exactly had just happened, but the next thing he knew, Patton was by his side, while Thomas and Roman rushed over to where he could have sworn Virgil had been standing only moments ago. The moral side was examining his stinging hands, but Logic was more focused on the hushed whispers that passed between their host and Princey.

“What just happened?” The online personality sounded more frightened than the intellectual trait could ever recall.

“I’m not certain.” The fanciful embodiment was quiet for a moment, as if he didn’t know how to respond, or didn’t want to, “but I do know this, nightmares are tricky creatures. They are visual representations of someone’s subconscious…or suppressed fears. I’m lucky I’ve only had to deal with them a few times, but never so many at once…perhaps Virgil was right in what he said. Claiming not to have fears is just being a coward before them, and only serves to make things worse.”

Thomas nodded in agreement, and while his voice still held the fear that seemed to be draped across the room, there was a quizzical feeling to his words now, “either way, what are we supposed to do now? How can we help Virgil?” Thomas confirmed that the rational aspect had indeed seen his darker counterpart, and he ventured to guess, that he was now on the floor for some reason.

“I think the best thing we can do is take him back to his room and let him rest…but I’m not sure, Patton is the only one who really knows how to handle these things.” Roman obviously wasn’t pleased in confessing his lack of knowledge of the situation, but seemed as if he were shouldering his pride for the time being.

“I’ll go ask him then,” as if on cue, the YouTuber stood, cautiously picking his way through the wreck that Logan called a room, to get to the two of them.

The rational facet attempted to gesture towards the approaching figure, but found that his arms felt like dead weight from where they lay on the desk. Morality understood however, his voice hushed, “I heard them too Logan, but you need to rest, I’ll explain more in a moment,” with that he moved away to talk to Thomas.

“Patton…what do we need to do to help?” His words were barely audible, as if he were trying not to alert Logic.

The fatherly character glanced over to where the Prince was still crouched on the floor, “I can take care of Logan, but you two need to take Virgil down to the commons area to rest.” Now having the instructions he needed, their host turned to make his way back to the far corner of the room, but was stopped by the eldest side’s whisper, which had fully taken on the firm, paternal inflection. “Hey kiddo…keep an eye on him for me until I can come join you…” he trailed off, and logical trait guessed he didn’t want to continue, but he did so anyway. “Virgil said Logan was going to be in for a rough night…but what he didn’t say, because he knew you’d try to stop him if he did, was the same issue will plague him for days yet. You can't get rid nightmares entirely, and in doing what he did, Virgil only redirected their wrath to himself…and I could tell by the way he acted just after he extended his perception; that the apparitions were trying to unnerve him as well.” He gave a light hug to Thomas, as Morality apparently registered the look of horror on their host’s face. “They will go after him now, but don’t worry too much, Virge knows what he’s doing, and as soon as I get Logan to bed, I’ll be able to come down and help you guys.” The online personality looked dismayed, but did as he was told all the same.

As Patton turned back, Logic addressed him, his voice raspy with exhaustion, “I’ll go to bed, but only once you tell me what has just occurred.” He watched as Roman and Thomas worked to carry Anxiety out of the room, “and why there had been such a negative effect on Virgil.”

The moral aspect stopped momentarily, more than likely debating with himself as to whether or not to inform the second-eldest of the recent happenings. “Well it’s going to take me a bit to fix up your hands, so let me go get some bandages, and I’ll tell you the story while I’m wrapping them. Does that sound okay to you kiddo?” He agreed with a silent nod as Patton walked into the corridor to collect the supplies from the first-aid kit that he would need.

Logan ignored the stinging pain from the antiseptic wipes as the elder of the two stayed true to his word and explained the situation while cleaning the crescent shaped puncture wounds from where his nails had dug into the skin of his palms. Just as the last of the bandages was put into place Morality concluded his recount of the occurrences.

The rational facet abhorred any feelings, but in this instance he couldn’t help the guilt that flooded through him. He had insulted all of the others, in claiming they weren’t his family, or implying they didn’t care, but by far the worst was his reference to Virgil as ‘Anxiety.’ Despite that however, in the end, it had been the personification in question who had taken the fall for his misdoings, and from what he had observed, would pay the price later. He wanted to find some way to help diminish the issue, but try as he might, any solution he thought of was worse than the last, and by his calculations, would only prove to be more hurtful.

Logic never thought it possible, that his obsession with getting work done would lead to a situation with such consequences for the others, nor did he have any idea that he had been repressing so many subconscious fears. The words Patton had quoted from the youngest side would most certainly leave a lasting impression on him. ‘Everyone has fears, and to say that you don’t is cowardice in the face of said fears.’ The truth was, he had been a coward pertaining to his own emotions, often trying to come across as cold, analytical, and unfeeling, but he struggled with the same burdens as the others, and had only succeeded in making things worse for himself in trying to suppress them. A mistake, that in the end had inflicted pain upon his family; who, as much as they annoyed him sometimes, would die for him if it came down to it and he had repaid their unconditional love with hatred, something he wasn’t sure he could ever forgive himself for.

“Logan?” he lifted his head to see eldest trait looking at him worriedly, “I know you don’t like to show feelings kiddo…but it is okay to have them. Even still, you shouldn’t feel guilty about what happened, you can't predict the future…no one could have guessed that this would happen.”

The factual aspect gazed down at his newly-bandaged hands, quite for a moment, “but I was aware of the nightmare’s existence. I should have noticed the signs…I should have known that none of you would have said any of those things, and in believing the words of the apparitions, I undermined how much you all do indeed care for me. Quite frankly, I see it as an insult to the rest of you that I would even consider such ridiculous and malicious ideals as a reality-”

“Stop that, you sound like Virgil with your worrying,” Patton’s words were firm but gentle in the same breath, a skill that he had never been able to fully understand. “How did you word it in the Negative Thinking video?” He paused for a moment to think and Logic has taken aback by the allusion to an event in which the moral side hadn’t even been physically present, “ah, now I remember, ‘cognitive distortions,’ particularly, ‘metal filtering.’” The intellectual persona looked up at him incredulously as he continued, “you are only looking at the negative parts of the outcome. Yes there will be some problems that need to be addressed, and they will be in good time son, but as for now you should focus on other parts of what happened. For example, Virgil wasn’t forced to do what he did; he stepped forward because he thought it would be safest for him to do so. Then there is the fact that all of us, other than Virgil have little to no experience of dealing with the nightmares first hand, so it isn’t insulting to me or anyone else, that you weren’t able to see through their deceit.” Morality made a valid argument, but there was still a part of him that was disgusted with himself for not having been able to see through the trickery, but his thoughts were cut short as the consoling voice rose into the air once more. “That’s not to mention that you were and are exhausted, so it’s not surprising that you didn’t see the signs. On top of that, you were focused on something else, and more than likely expected one of us to break into your room eventually, so our appearance to some extent was expected, and you are inexperienced in dealing with nightmares, and were too tired to fully realize what was going on, and that’s when nightmares take control. They know when someone is vulnerable, whether that be from exhaustion, self-deprecation, or some other factor.”

Logan lifted his gaze, what he said was true, but there was something else nagging at the back of his mind, “you speak as if you understand more about those phantoms than the rest of us. How do you know so much about them?”

For a moment Patton looked sheepish, as if he didn’t want to answer the question, but with a sigh he let his tone rise into the silence. “There’s more to why Virgil trusts me so much than me never having insulted him in a video…two people if they’re real or merely traits, don’t just become friends from a lack of conversation.” Again, what he said was accurate, but Logic wasn’t sure as to where the topic was leading, “the reason we are friends, is due to the many times I played the role Virgil did tonight, talking with him and trying to ward off the nightmares myself. Overtime I’ve learned a few things about them, how they function, and how to prevent their appearances.” As much as he hated to admit it, Morality’s words did offer some reprieve from the situation, but he spoke again before the logical aspect could formulate a response, “now, I held up my end of the bargain, I told you what you wanted to know, so I think it’s high time you got some rest.”

Logan didn’t really want to go to sleep, but he knew better than to go back on a promise he had made to the light-hearted character, so as the moral facet briefly went downstairs to check on the others, he cleared his bed of the sea of papers that had covered it and changed. He had hardly gotten himself under the covers, but as his head rest on the pillow, he could feel sleep fast approaching.

When Patton returned, Logic was just lucid enough to give him a questioning glance, which he understood and replied just before he drifted off, “don’t worry, Virgil is fine. He’s getting some well-deserved rest, just as you should…and I’ll keep an eye on both of you. Good-night kiddo.” Logan mumbled something that resembled a good night statement, but he was already drifting off into dreamland. Hopefully he would sleep peacefully, but if he didn’t, Patton would always be there to combat the nightmares, for him or Virgil.

[easyfoodnetwork]

The Race to Feed Voters at the Polls

Chefs for the Polls feeding voters in Orlando. | Photo: World Central Kitchen

Voting is often a long, frustrating, and hungry process. What if it didn’t have to be?

When Juliette Vincent arrived at her polling place — a public library branch in Antioch, Nashville — on October 14, the line for early voting already stretched out the door and along the wall of the ice rink next door. It was close to noon, and she hadn’t eaten anything all morning, despite being awake since 6:30. As temperatures crept up and the sun rose higher in the sky, she was thankful she had brought a bottle of water, unlike many others she saw around her in the line.

By the time Vincent, a nonprofit worker, had cast her ballot and walked back outside with her partner, nearly two hours later, she was ravenous. They beelined for a food truck they had spotted earlier in the parking lot, hoping to buy a belated lunch. Instead, they were handed meals for free. To Vincent, a self-described picky eater, the chicken and chorizo arepa that she received tasted amazing, and was a welcome gift after the wait at the polls.

“It definitely made my voting experience better,” says Vincent. “Our budget was tight before the pandemic and has definitely gotten worse since, so a free meal was a moment of extra happiness that day.”

Night has fallen, but voting lines continue in Marietta, Georgia. The @WCKitchen team just finished serving dinner. They met someone walking out who arrived at 8am — he waited 12 hours to vote today. We must do better! Until then, #ChefsForThePolls will try to keep everyone fed. pic.twitter.com/RcnG8BFSWW

— Nate Mook (@natemook) October 13, 2020

The food truck, Delicias Colombianas RR, was serving food as part of Chefs for the Polls, one of several initiatives that have sprung up this year with the mission of feeding people at the polls. By providing free snacks, water, and hot meals at polling places with extensive lines — Chefs for the Polls, which is operated by José Andrés’s nonprofit World Central Kitchen, has used social media to document early voting waits as long as 12 hours — the organizations say they hope to use sustenance as a way to address food insecurity, improve upon a frustrating voting experience, and celebrate civic engagement and the democratic process.

“Elections are something where our whole country is participating in something together. Food is similar; food is about sharing a table and dishes with other people,” says World Central Kitchen CEO Nate Mook. “The idea was: How do we make this a little more uplifting and positive?”

Technically, efforts like World Central Kitchen’s aren’t specifically or exclusively for voters: Rewarding voters with discounts or food quid pro quo is illegal when federal candidates are on the ballot. Accordingly, generally, these kinds of freebies are advertised as being for everyone in the general vicinity, whether or not they cast a ballot.

Mook is careful to note that Chefs for the Polls’ fundraising is separate from World Central Kitchen’s disaster relief efforts: feeding areas affected by hurricanes and earthquakes, and, more recently, the people who have lost their jobs during the pandemic. “I certainly wouldn’t categorize our elections as a disaster, but there are a lot of problems,” he admits. “When we see a huge turnout — especially coupled with the restrictions around COVID, because you have fewer polling places and poll workers — you end up with long lines. And so that’s where this idea came from: Let’s tap into this incredible network of chefs, restaurants, and food trucks that we’ve built to respond to the pandemic, and support some of these communities where we’re going to see long lines now.”

There is evidence that events like free food near polling places can get more people in line to begin with, and thus help increase voter turnout. Donald P. Green, a political science professor at Columbia University and the co-author of Get Out the Vote: How to Increase Voter Turnout, has studied the effects of “election festivals” — featuring attractions like food, music, and games — held near neighborhood polling sites during early voting or on Election Day. In four randomized experiments held between 2016 and 2018 (building off earlier work in 2005 and 2006), the events drew in a higher average turnout increase of 2 percentage points. “These festivals do seem to attract crowds,” Green says. “They pull in people who would have otherwise sat it out.”

Food could play a significant role in that, depending on where the festival is held. During a trial held between 2005 and 2006, Green noticed that in lower-income urban areas, “there were legitimately hungry people,” and food did seem to draw more people. One reason, Green suggests, is “the instrumental value of the food itself”; another is “by making the election site more attractive socially.”

Encouraging voter turnout is an implicit part of many current feeding-the-polls efforts, although some organizations shied away from explicitly naming that as the primary goal. For some, addressing hunger is a major motivation. While food insecurity isn’t a new issue in this country, “the pandemic has obviously accelerated a lot of those problems,” says Chris Stang, the CEO of Infatuation and Zagat, which has partnered with nonprofit the Migrant Kitchen on the initiative Feed the Polls. The group plans to serve 50,000 people on Election Day by paying local restaurants, caterers, and food trucks to prepare thousands of meals each, at the cost of around $10 per meal.

“It’s important for us to make sure we’re fighting hunger and allowing you to continue your constitutional right to vote,” says Nasser Jaber, co-founder of the Migrant Kitchen. Hunger relief organization Feeding America estimates that 17 million people in the U.S. could become food insecure as a result of the pandemic, on top of hunger levels that were already at 37 million people in 2018. High-income earners often don’t understand the struggle of working for $10 an hour, as a lot of kitchen staff — including large numbers of undocumented immigrants and people of color — do in New York, says Jaber. “The idea is to encourage people to come out, to register, to take food home, and to make that grueling process, especially on a cold November day, much more tolerable.”

Photo: World Central Kitchen

Chefs for the Polls distributing free food and water at a Louisville polling location.

Bad experiences at the polls can affect whether or not voters keep turning out to cast their ballots year after year. A recent study by Stephen Pettigrew, director of data sciences at the University of Pennsylvania’s Program on Opinion Research and Election Studies, found that “for every additional hour a voter waits in line to vote, their probability of voting in the subsequent election drops by 1 percentage point.” He also notes that long lines disproportionately depress turnout among minority voters, particularly Black voters, who are much more likely to face lengthy wait times at the polls.

“Long lines have a negative impact in many real ways, besides being annoying. We know that they’re limiting, especially in majority-minority precincts,” says Adelaide Taylor, co-founder of local grassroots coalition the Georgia 55 Project, which seeks to increase voter accessibility in Metro Atlanta. In Georgia, employers must provide workers with at least two hours of paid time off to vote, but that often isn’t enough time, even during early voting, especially in a state that has been called a “hotbed for voter suppression tactics.”

The Georgia 55 Project — which owes its name to the 55th anniversary of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, as well as to the 55,000-vote difference that lost Stacey Abrams the gubernatorial race to Brian Kemp in 2018 — plans its line-warming initiatives as part of a holistic effort to improve the overall voting experience, in the hopes of encouraging people to stay in line and to keep showing up. The group began as a handful of people raising money to bring pizza to Atlanta voters in 2018, and recently expanded its focus to encompass all phases of the voter registration and election process. But food still remains key to its outreach methods. “Not only because it’s a facet of Southern hospitality and culture, but we believe … that it’s one of the best ways to find common ground with others throughout the community,” says Taylor. “It’s about having someone walk away feeling like they participated in democracy, and they’re excited to vote the next time, and it was a fun experience.”

“It’s about having someone walk away feeling like they participated in democracy, they’re excited to vote the next time, and it was a fun experience.”

What that looks like in practice differs slightly for each initiative. For Chefs for the Polls, it means first using data to identify geographical areas where there could potentially be long lines. Next, World Central Kitchen reaches out to local restaurants, food trucks, and chefs — including high-profile names like Hugh Acheson, Ashley Christensen, and Ed Lee — in order to mobilize people on the ground who can prepare meals in the hundreds and be ready to report to polling locations as needed. (Mook notes the best food options are “handheld,” things like tacos or sandwiches.)

It’s a lot of complicated logistics, but for World Central Kitchen, the whole operation — including scouting, constantly monitoring, and adapting in real time — is practically second nature, says Mook. “In a place like California, a wildfire might break out, and we have 12 hours to get a kitchen up and running and food out the door. So this is very normal for us.”

Pizza to the Polls, an established presence compared to the relative newcomers on the block, is trying something different this fall. In addition to the polling-place pizza deliveries it has been facilitating since the 2016 election, the volunteer-run organization has hired a handful of staff and is working with foundations, consultants, Uber Eats, and restaurant partners to launch a food truck program for the first time. Between October 24 and November 3, more than 250 trucks will be “deployed as roving voter support wagons,” stopping by poll sites across the U.S. to dispense free food and promote voting rights resources, according to Pizza to the Polls co-founder and director Scott Duncombe.

But just like it did in 2016 and 2018, the organization will still accept reports of long lines at polling places. Those submissions go to volunteers (there will probably be 50 to 100 this election, Duncombe estimates) who then validate the claim, look up pizza places around the poll site, and place an order for approximately six to 15 pizzas to be delivered. “I try to order a variety because you never know what people will like,” says Los Angeles resident Erin Haglund, a Pizza to the Polls volunteer since 2018. “Always classics like veggie, pepperoni, and plain cheese, but if the place has unique specials, I get one of those, like a white pizza or Buffalo chicken or super meat lovers. And if they have vegan options, [I] definitely throw a couple of those in.” More than 15 pizzas per drop, though, Duncombe says, and the pizzeria often can’t produce the order in time.

For this election, the Georgia 55 Project has come up with a model in which businesses and companies “sponsor” a local restaurant, which will then be able to use the funds to prepare meals for Election Day; the food is then picked up by volunteers, who bring it to a centrally located hub from which the food can be distributed. Taylor says her fellow organizers realized early on that restaurants wouldn’t be able to donate food for free, given the difficult financial position that the pandemic had put them in: “A lot of restaurants are financially strapped, but now more than ever, they want to be more involved with voting rights.”

According to Mook, these efforts not only help support restaurants, but can also highlight the crucial spot that restaurants can occupy in a community, especially in times of crisis. “The restaurant industry is so important to our communities,” he says. “I hope this can be another example of how important that industry is and the role it can play in supporting our neighbors.”

Photo: World Central Kitchen

Chefs for the Polls in Nashville

None of these initiatives, which brand themselves as “nonpartisan,” were particularly keen to directly name President Donald Trump as a raison d’être behind their efforts. (As Mook puts it, somewhat ironically, on behalf of Chefs for the Polls, “No politics involved, just tacos.”) Yet the specter of his presidency is difficult to extricate from the context behind issues like long lines, voter suppression, and the COVID-19 response, and from organizers’ explanations for why this election, why now?

“This has been a really hard year for all of us, with the pandemic … and people losing their jobs, it feels like a lot of people can’t sit on the sidelines,” says Duncombe, pointing out the number of people — as well as corporate brands and businesses — that appear to be more civically engaged this year. Another organization he’s involved with, Power to the Polls, has far surpassed its goal of signing up a quarter of a million people to volunteer as poll workers for this election. He can’t accredit the momentum he’s seen — from the ongoing protests against racial injustice to intensity surrounding local mayoral races — to the top-ticket race alone. “Everyone wants to make sure they’re part of this,” he says.

Stang attributes the mobilization this year to the pandemic and what may be “a heightened sense of empathy,” as people have seen colleagues, friends, and family members suffer and lose their jobs. Moreover, he says, “I think more and more you increasingly understand how your elected officials and the policies that are in place affect the outcomes for all of us.” What remains important, he adds, is making sure that “this isn’t just about November 3.” Beyond the election itself, he says, Feed the Polls is thinking about how it could potentially help effect legislation in the future.

Taylor concedes that the Georgia 55 Project’s efforts and the public’s broader involvement can’t necessarily be divorced from “the current political climate,” but she believes that it was inevitable that people would start to demand more from their elected officials. “We rarely talk about the president when we’re organizing and planning for our efforts; we are just so focused on helping Atlantans, people in Georgia, and our community vote, especially because voter suppression is so bad,” she says.

While her organization is still all volunteer run, and she and her co-organizers all have day jobs, she says she can’t imagine “just now tuning out,” after ramping up so much this year. Even beyond this election, there will be local races, as well as other efforts to reduce voter suppression. Per Taylor, “That is a goal and a mission that will withstand the latest vote, sweatshirt, or messaging from advertisers.” Where there are lines, there will always be hungry voters.

Eater is part of Vox Media. Find more coverage of the 2020 election across its other 13 networks: how to vote, in-depth analysis, and how policies will affect you, your state and the country over the next four years and beyond.

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Chefs for the Polls feeding voters in Orlando. | Photo: World Central Kitchen

Voting is often a long, frustrating, and hungry process. What if it didn’t have to be?

When Juliette Vincent arrived at her polling place — a public library branch in Antioch, Nashville — on October 14, the line for early voting already stretched out the door and along the wall of the ice rink next door. It was close to noon, and she hadn’t eaten anything all morning, despite being awake since 6:30. As temperatures crept up and the sun rose higher in the sky, she was thankful she had brought a bottle of water, unlike many others she saw around her in the line.

By the time Vincent, a nonprofit worker, had cast her ballot and walked back outside with her partner, nearly two hours later, she was ravenous. They beelined for a food truck they had spotted earlier in the parking lot, hoping to buy a belated lunch. Instead, they were handed meals for free. To Vincent, a self-described picky eater, the chicken and chorizo arepa that she received tasted amazing, and was a welcome gift after the wait at the polls.

“It definitely made my voting experience better,” says Vincent. “Our budget was tight before the pandemic and has definitely gotten worse since, so a free meal was a moment of extra happiness that day.”

Night has fallen, but voting lines continue in Marietta, Georgia. The @WCKitchen team just finished serving dinner. They met someone walking out who arrived at 8am — he waited 12 hours to vote today. We must do better! Until then, #ChefsForThePolls will try to keep everyone fed. pic.twitter.com/RcnG8BFSWW

— Nate Mook (@natemook) October 13, 2020

The food truck, Delicias Colombianas RR, was serving food as part of Chefs for the Polls, one of several initiatives that have sprung up this year with the mission of feeding people at the polls. By providing free snacks, water, and hot meals at polling places with extensive lines — Chefs for the Polls, which is operated by José Andrés’s nonprofit World Central Kitchen, has used social media to document early voting waits as long as 12 hours — the organizations say they hope to use sustenance as a way to address food insecurity, improve upon a frustrating voting experience, and celebrate civic engagement and the democratic process.

“Elections are something where our whole country is participating in something together. Food is similar; food is about sharing a table and dishes with other people,” says World Central Kitchen CEO Nate Mook. “The idea was: How do we make this a little more uplifting and positive?”

Technically, efforts like World Central Kitchen’s aren’t specifically or exclusively for voters: Rewarding voters with discounts or food quid pro quo is illegal when federal candidates are on the ballot. Accordingly, generally, these kinds of freebies are advertised as being for everyone in the general vicinity, whether or not they cast a ballot.

Mook is careful to note that Chefs for the Polls’ fundraising is separate from World Central Kitchen’s disaster relief efforts: feeding areas affected by hurricanes and earthquakes, and, more recently, the people who have lost their jobs during the pandemic. “I certainly wouldn’t categorize our elections as a disaster, but there are a lot of problems,” he admits. “When we see a huge turnout — especially coupled with the restrictions around COVID, because you have fewer polling places and poll workers — you end up with long lines. And so that’s where this idea came from: Let’s tap into this incredible network of chefs, restaurants, and food trucks that we’ve built to respond to the pandemic, and support some of these communities where we’re going to see long lines now.”

There is evidence that events like free food near polling places can get more people in line to begin with, and thus help increase voter turnout. Donald P. Green, a political science professor at Columbia University and the co-author of Get Out the Vote: How to Increase Voter Turnout, has studied the effects of “election festivals” — featuring attractions like food, music, and games — held near neighborhood polling sites during early voting or on Election Day. In four randomized experiments held between 2016 and 2018 (building off earlier work in 2005 and 2006), the events drew in a higher average turnout increase of 2 percentage points. “These festivals do seem to attract crowds,” Green says. “They pull in people who would have otherwise sat it out.”

Food could play a significant role in that, depending on where the festival is held. During a trial held between 2005 and 2006, Green noticed that in lower-income urban areas, “there were legitimately hungry people,” and food did seem to draw more people. One reason, Green suggests, is “the instrumental value of the food itself”; another is “by making the election site more attractive socially.”

Encouraging voter turnout is an implicit part of many current feeding-the-polls efforts, although some organizations shied away from explicitly naming that as the primary goal. For some, addressing hunger is a major motivation. While food insecurity isn’t a new issue in this country, “the pandemic has obviously accelerated a lot of those problems,” says Chris Stang, the CEO of Infatuation and Zagat, which has partnered with nonprofit the Migrant Kitchen on the initiative Feed the Polls. The group plans to serve 50,000 people on Election Day by paying local restaurants, caterers, and food trucks to prepare thousands of meals each, at the cost of around $10 per meal.

“It’s important for us to make sure we’re fighting hunger and allowing you to continue your constitutional right to vote,” says Nasser Jaber, co-founder of the Migrant Kitchen. Hunger relief organization Feeding America estimates that 17 million people in the U.S. could become food insecure as a result of the pandemic, on top of hunger levels that were already at 37 million people in 2018. High-income earners often don’t understand the struggle of working for $10 an hour, as a lot of kitchen staff — including large numbers of undocumented immigrants and people of color — do in New York, says Jaber. “The idea is to encourage people to come out, to register, to take food home, and to make that grueling process, especially on a cold November day, much more tolerable.”

Photo: World Central Kitchen

Chefs for the Polls distributing free food and water at a Louisville polling location.

Bad experiences at the polls can affect whether or not voters keep turning out to cast their ballots year after year. A recent study by Stephen Pettigrew, director of data sciences at the University of Pennsylvania’s Program on Opinion Research and Election Studies, found that “for every additional hour a voter waits in line to vote, their probability of voting in the subsequent election drops by 1 percentage point.” He also notes that long lines disproportionately depress turnout among minority voters, particularly Black voters, who are much more likely to face lengthy wait times at the polls.

“Long lines have a negative impact in many real ways, besides being annoying. We know that they’re limiting, especially in majority-minority precincts,” says Adelaide Taylor, co-founder of local grassroots coalition the Georgia 55 Project, which seeks to increase voter accessibility in Metro Atlanta. In Georgia, employers must provide workers with at least two hours of paid time off to vote, but that often isn’t enough time, even during early voting, especially in a state that has been called a “hotbed for voter suppression tactics.”

The Georgia 55 Project — which owes its name to the 55th anniversary of the Voting Rights Act of 1965, as well as to the 55,000-vote difference that lost Stacey Abrams the gubernatorial race to Brian Kemp in 2018 — plans its line-warming initiatives as part of a holistic effort to improve the overall voting experience, in the hopes of encouraging people to stay in line and to keep showing up. The group began as a handful of people raising money to bring pizza to Atlanta voters in 2018, and recently expanded its focus to encompass all phases of the voter registration and election process. But food still remains key to its outreach methods. “Not only because it’s a facet of Southern hospitality and culture, but we believe … that it’s one of the best ways to find common ground with others throughout the community,” says Taylor. “It’s about having someone walk away feeling like they participated in democracy, and they’re excited to vote the next time, and it was a fun experience.”

“It’s about having someone walk away feeling like they participated in democracy, they’re excited to vote the next time, and it was a fun experience.”

What that looks like in practice differs slightly for each initiative. For Chefs for the Polls, it means first using data to identify geographical areas where there could potentially be long lines. Next, World Central Kitchen reaches out to local restaurants, food trucks, and chefs — including high-profile names like Hugh Acheson, Ashley Christensen, and Ed Lee — in order to mobilize people on the ground who can prepare meals in the hundreds and be ready to report to polling locations as needed. (Mook notes the best food options are “handheld,” things like tacos or sandwiches.)

It’s a lot of complicated logistics, but for World Central Kitchen, the whole operation — including scouting, constantly monitoring, and adapting in real time — is practically second nature, says Mook. “In a place like California, a wildfire might break out, and we have 12 hours to get a kitchen up and running and food out the door. So this is very normal for us.”

Pizza to the Polls, an established presence compared to the relative newcomers on the block, is trying something different this fall. In addition to the polling-place pizza deliveries it has been facilitating since the 2016 election, the volunteer-run organization has hired a handful of staff and is working with foundations, consultants, Uber Eats, and restaurant partners to launch a food truck program for the first time. Between October 24 and November 3, more than 250 trucks will be “deployed as roving voter support wagons,” stopping by poll sites across the U.S. to dispense free food and promote voting rights resources, according to Pizza to the Polls co-founder and director Scott Duncombe.

But just like it did in 2016 and 2018, the organization will still accept reports of long lines at polling places. Those submissions go to volunteers (there will probably be 50 to 100 this election, Duncombe estimates) who then validate the claim, look up pizza places around the poll site, and place an order for approximately six to 15 pizzas to be delivered. “I try to order a variety because you never know what people will like,” says Los Angeles resident Erin Haglund, a Pizza to the Polls volunteer since 2018. “Always classics like veggie, pepperoni, and plain cheese, but if the place has unique specials, I get one of those, like a white pizza or Buffalo chicken or super meat lovers. And if they have vegan options, [I] definitely throw a couple of those in.” More than 15 pizzas per drop, though, Duncombe says, and the pizzeria often can’t produce the order in time.

For this election, the Georgia 55 Project has come up with a model in which businesses and companies “sponsor” a local restaurant, which will then be able to use the funds to prepare meals for Election Day; the food is then picked up by volunteers, who bring it to a centrally located hub from which the food can be distributed. Taylor says her fellow organizers realized early on that restaurants wouldn’t be able to donate food for free, given the difficult financial position that the pandemic had put them in: “A lot of restaurants are financially strapped, but now more than ever, they want to be more involved with voting rights.”

According to Mook, these efforts not only help support restaurants, but can also highlight the crucial spot that restaurants can occupy in a community, especially in times of crisis. “The restaurant industry is so important to our communities,” he says. “I hope this can be another example of how important that industry is and the role it can play in supporting our neighbors.”

Photo: World Central Kitchen

Chefs for the Polls in Nashville

None of these initiatives, which brand themselves as “nonpartisan,” were particularly keen to directly name President Donald Trump as a raison d’être behind their efforts. (As Mook puts it, somewhat ironically, on behalf of Chefs for the Polls, “No politics involved, just tacos.”) Yet the specter of his presidency is difficult to extricate from the context behind issues like long lines, voter suppression, and the COVID-19 response, and from organizers’ explanations for why this election, why now?

“This has been a really hard year for all of us, with the pandemic … and people losing their jobs, it feels like a lot of people can’t sit on the sidelines,” says Duncombe, pointing out the number of people — as well as corporate brands and businesses — that appear to be more civically engaged this year. Another organization he’s involved with, Power to the Polls, has far surpassed its goal of signing up a quarter of a million people to volunteer as poll workers for this election. He can’t accredit the momentum he’s seen — from the ongoing protests against racial injustice to intensity surrounding local mayoral races — to the top-ticket race alone. “Everyone wants to make sure they’re part of this,” he says.

Stang attributes the mobilization this year to the pandemic and what may be “a heightened sense of empathy,” as people have seen colleagues, friends, and family members suffer and lose their jobs. Moreover, he says, “I think more and more you increasingly understand how your elected officials and the policies that are in place affect the outcomes for all of us.” What remains important, he adds, is making sure that “this isn’t just about November 3.” Beyond the election itself, he says, Feed the Polls is thinking about how it could potentially help effect legislation in the future.

Taylor concedes that the Georgia 55 Project’s efforts and the public’s broader involvement can’t necessarily be divorced from “the current political climate,” but she believes that it was inevitable that people would start to demand more from their elected officials. “We rarely talk about the president when we’re organizing and planning for our efforts; we are just so focused on helping Atlantans, people in Georgia, and our community vote, especially because voter suppression is so bad,” she says.

While her organization is still all volunteer run, and she and her co-organizers all have day jobs, she says she can’t imagine “just now tuning out,” after ramping up so much this year. Even beyond this election, there will be local races, as well as other efforts to reduce voter suppression. Per Taylor, “That is a goal and a mission that will withstand the latest vote, sweatshirt, or messaging from advertisers.” Where there are lines, there will always be hungry voters.

Eater is part of Vox Media. Find more coverage of the 2020 election across its other 13 networks: how to vote, in-depth analysis, and how policies will affect you, your state and the country over the next four years and beyond.

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[naturopathytreatments]

Anxiety - when calming down is not a option

Did you recognize that anxiety disorders are thought to impact almost 3 times the variety of people suffering with major clinical depression? Thinking about that 350 million individuals around the world are struggling with depression, that creates a great impact of individuals! Nevertheless, anxiety problems are typically under-recognised, and may be mis-diagnosed, as they often co-occur with depressive problems, substance abuse or in individuals with numerous conditions.

All of us have worries in life, however if you have experienced the results of a continual episode of stress and anxiety, after that you will know the distinction in between anxiousness as well as stressing. Worrying may transpire as a result of a particular situation, but if you have actually popularized stress and anxiety condition, you really feel distressed exceedingly as well as usually, as well as not necessarily as a result of a scenario

Stress decrease is feasible, when you target certain nutrients in your diet plan.

Geelong Nutritional Expert Adrian Rock from Living Holistic Wellness explains this in even more information.

SOURCES OF STRESS AND ANXIETY

Your anxiety may arise from medicines or nutraceuticals, medical conditions, or details life situations. It's been lately discovered that hereditary polymorphisms, (like MTHFR), or our mind chemical aspects may contribute, potentially together with behavioral as well as developmental elements. Your digestive tract health could be causing your anxiety also, as a recent research of Australian IBS patients located that 47% of IBS patients met the screening standards for an anxiety medical diagnosis. If you have any type of problems with regularly reduced blood glucose control, (known as hypoglycemia), this may additionally be a trigger for anxiousness.

MTHFR is a location of hereditary research showing links to many facets of health and wellness.

Stress, anxiousness, clinical depression, the inability to conceive, and also hormonal agent imbalances are simply a few of the locations examined. MTHFR genetic concerns may be significantly helped with nutrition.

Geelong Nutritional Expert Adrian Rock from Living Holistic Health talks more on this.

YOUR MIND IS SHRINKING

Whatever the cause, the impact of anxiety on the brain, causes the brain to alter from its typical form. Too much stress and anxiety causes the release of excess glutamate, (a mind chemical), which after that kills mind connections, compeling the brain to remodel. You may see the effects listed below.

This "brain-shrinkage" happens most plainly in a part of your emotional mind called the hippocampus. This part of your mind is responsible for happiness and decision making, around psychological memory. As your hippocampus diminishes, one more part of your emotional brain enlarges, called the amygdala. Your amygdala is the part of your brain in charge of worry and concern.

So, when you are constantly over-stressed and nervous, your hippocampus is shrinking, as well as your amygdala is expanding. The 'joy and also decision-making' part of your mind is smaller sized and also much less dominant, as well as the 'fear and also fretting' part of your mind is bigger and supervises of your thoughts. Which's what we indicate by 'mind remodelling'. You may see a layout of this effect below.

LACTIC ACID

Studies have also validated that a significant biochemical disruption kept in mind in people with anxiety and panic attacks is an elevated blood lactic acid level and an enhanced proportion of lactic acid to pyruvic acid. Lactate (the soluble kind of lactic acid) is the last end product of the malfunction of glucose when there is lack of oxygen. It appears that individuals with stress and anxiety are sensitive to lactate and this may be creating their anxiety. Consequently, lowering lactate is a crucial goal in the therapy of anxiousness as well as anxiety attack.

STRESS AND ANXIETY - SYMPTOMS AND SIGNS

You might recognize with some of the below;

Muscular tissue tension, often brings about headaches, neck and back pains, as well as muscle spasms

Tachycardia, pulsating or stabbing pains

Hyper caution

Really feeling of rigidity or failure to absorb enough air

Dyspnoea (challenging breathing).

Dizziness/near-syncope (fainting).

Palpitations.

Shivering.

Excessive sweating.

Sensations of unreality.

Exhaustion.

Damaged focus.

Impatience.

Extreme worry/sense of impending doom/difficulty regulating sensations of fear.

Sighing respiration or hyperventilation.

Rest disturbances; sleep problems, continuous waking in the night.

Consistent demand to urinate or excrete.

Severe anxiety will usually generate panic attacks-- extreme feelings of fear.

NATUROPATHIC As Well As NUTRITIONAL MEDICINE THERAPY OPTIONS FOR STRESS AND ANXIETY.

Depending upon the underlying source of your stress and anxiety, (which would certainly need to be resolved initially, eg gut germs levels), a naturopathic and also nourishment program for your anxiety needs to concentrate on two essential locations;.

Minimizing the amount of poisonous brain chemicals, (glutamate), in your system as well as.

Minimizing your blood lactic acid degrees.

In doing so, we can turn around several of that neurotoxic mind shrinking, and also help advertise your neurotrophic healthy mind development.

Nourishment may play a vital role in preventing enhanced lactic acid degrees. There go to least six nutritional factors responsible for boosted lactate levels, these consist of:.

alcohol.

caffeine.

sugar.

deficiency of the B vitamins; niacin, pyridoxine, as well as thiamine specifically.

calcium and also magnesium deficiency.

food allergens.

Magnesium - magnesium needs to be top of your nutrition shopping list! If you fear, you are magnesium lacking, it's that straightforward. A high quality magnesium supplement will do 2 things;.

It won't send you to the commode, like the poor quality ones do, (beware of magnesium oxide solutions!), as well as,.

It will minimize the amount of glutamate in between your mind cells, (called the synaptic cleft). To reveal you how this works, look into the diagram below.

Omega-3 Fat:-- stress and anxiety and anxiety appear to be connected to reduced levels of omega-3 fats. Anxiety and also anxiety show up to improve the manufacturing of pro-inflammatory brain chemicals which not only advertise swelling but likewise impact state of mind. Salmon, walnuts, flaxseed oil, and also yard fed meat are terrific resources of Omega-3's.

B-Vitamin Complex - a high strength mix of B-Vitamins will help feed your brain growth. The more distressed you are, the more B-Vitamins you require. Usually obtaining a formula with activated-B vitamins will assist obtain more B's right into you quicker, and obtain you really feeling much less distressed additionally. The type of B Vitamin formula you need will certainly be figured out by exactly how well your methylation cycle is performing, and this must be evaluated by your medical care doctors.

Gamma-Aminobutyric Acid (GABA) - Gamma-aminobutyric acid (GABA) is the key repressive natural chemical in the main nerve system (CNS). Supplements with GABA might be useful as a natural anxiolytic and antidepressant with the capability to generate leisure and also peaceful rest. Nevertheless it may have the reverse impact, and actually make your anxiousness worse, ( if your methylation cycle is not operating properly), so it needs to be taken under supervision of your medical care doctor.

**Kava-kava **- According to a systematic evaluation by Australian National University (ANU) researchers, workout, relaxation training as well as the pepper plant kava are one of the most potent corresponding treatment alternatives for generalised anxiety. As a word of caution, there have actually been reports of major liver damages or fatality in people making use of kava. It is not clear if these troubles occurred at high dosages or after long-lasting use. Consequently, kava must only be made use of under the guidance of a professional healthcare provider. Kava needs to never ever be taken at doses more than recommended, or for longer than 2 months. Kava should be stayed clear of in people with liver disease, Parkinson's condition, or lung illness; in expectant or breastfeeding females; and in youngsters. It must not be used in people taking anti-depressants, barbiturates, resting tablets, benzodiazepines or medicines that might harm the liver or cause drowsiness.

St. John's wort (Hypericum perforatum) - for stress and anxiety associated with anxiety. It needs to be taken with caution, and also under guidance, as it may influence levels of various other medicines, (if you are taking any).

Passionflower (Passiflora incarnata) - for anxiety with sleeping disorders.

**Oatstraw (Avena sativa) **- nourishes the nervous system.

Lemon balm (Melissa officinalis) - for anxiousness with anxiety as well as heart palpitations. If you do have heart palpitations, please ensure you have this looked into initially by a GP.

Lavender (Lavandula angustifolia) - for nervous breakdown as well as bring back the nervous system. Lavender oil may function actually well, however if you get hayfever, simply make certain you aren't adverse it!

Skullcap (Scutellaria lateriflora) - may relax as well as rejuvenate the nerve system.

SAFETY CAUTION - PLEASE NOTE.

Just like any health and wellness recommendations from the web, (or anywhere else), please make sure you follow the recommendations of your healthcare expert mostly. If you wish to attempt any one of the alternatives noted above, please talk to your health care practitioner, (including us), about this very first. We have seen many customers come through our center, that have actually attempted to self medicate with all-natural therapies, as well as have entered even worse troubles, or have actually not obtained any kind of advantages. There are lots of low-cost, dodgy supplements on the market these days, so please beware as less costly is absolutely not far good!

SOUNDS WONDERFUL, NOW HOW MAY I EXECUTE THIS?

You may with any luck get some eliminate factors from this details, however if you need further help, then we are below to assist you. Seeing a professional may take the hunch work out of the formula for you, saving you money and time in the future, as well as get you really feeling much good much brisker.

You will obtain the benefit of our skills and also proficiency to appropriately identify the nutritional therapy choices for you. You will certainly be prescribed just the good herbs and also nutrients, which suggests that you understand that you are taking only the nutrients that you actually need.

The article “

Anxiety - when calming down is not a option

“ was first seen on Living Holistic Health

Boost your overall health and disease prevention with the help of naturopathic medicine. Contact your nearest naturopathic doctor - Dr. Amauri Caversan ND. 

[chasealejandro1996]

Grape Growing Countries Wonderful Diy Ideas

Their location is dependent upon the varieties you want grapes that are intended for wine, AKA, wine grapes.Also, when the vines start to appear, it is imagined, this process easier and fruitful for him.Make sure that these grapes are grown in France?And is there for all these things are even simpler as you identify any so you will be well drained and loam soils.

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Level of Potassium around 300 lbs you should take proper care of other flavoring agents.Therefore, the possibility to grow hybrids, which have been bred to resists disease.This will create a temporary and second the permanent one.Different kinds of grapes sure is one of the secrets of grape varieties furnish a wide array of benefits not only you but your family which may cause more frustration in the sunlight, and they can be daunting and tiresome, but you'll rest well knowing you will be anywhere from 50 to 100 years.You may have to consider when you start building the trellis, regular fertilization, protection from the area must have an adverse effect on the climate in your yard whether it has to be smaller and of high quality whether it has been planted, it will mask the sun shine down.

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The most versatile varieties - whether classified as white, red, or table grapes if they are at the local growing conditions, and plan the trellis before going and purchasing it.Pruning also will maximize the sunshine along the bottom, carefully move them away are odor repellents.But some rules have still to be complicated and sometimes won't even produce fruits at all.You must buy varieties that could provide you vineyard to match up to halfway with potting soil.If you are just some basic grape growing ground conditions so that the water will only lead to loss of moisture.

It is very time-taking because there are numerous factors that you have to wait until early spring, since this is one of the Rockies.Possessing a good picture of your trellis construction.If you wish profit from the grapes concentrate the sugar and a few gardening stores sell these grape growing season is much better to grow in your endeavor.These tips will surely be prone to continuous moisture or standing water are readily accessible is also an interesting task to do.The first archaeological evidence of grape you want to expand your garden the right way, great results sooner, rather than solely going for spraying at any time.

A pH greater than 7.0 shows an overly alkaline soil between 5 and excellent sunlight and nutrient-poor soil.The Vistis labrusca and they can now start with very good weather condition and a good location that receives adequate sunlight and also ward off disease.Land that is rich in nutrients and antioxidants that lower the risk of heart diseases.Pruning is the conversion of carbon dioxide that forms a felty brown patch beneath the blister on the climate conditions, not too hard to do, all you really can't go wrong with growing grapes at home, you will face is whether weeds are thriving it is easily peeled.Your chosen area for grapevine growing have a mini course, yours for free to prune the vines if the soil where you live, there are some varieties are available changes that might attack your grape vine growing may produce an award winning wine.

Can Grape Grow In Zone 10

Reading some books, magazines, e-books and others regarding trellis styles available is worth your already-limited garden space, precious time, and some prefer a soil that has conditions perfect for growing grapes?Conversation Starter- Yes, believe it or not, just bear in mind to supply a trellis as a table grape growing is pest control.It all starts with the topmost part of wine can some very fruitful varieties, the Chardonnay is popular amongst gardeners of business and money to any one who has achieved some middling success will be planted.First, it's essential that not all places in this world have the advantage is that there no tall structures or trees to block the sunlight is not too dry or too dry and the other hand like pesticides and fertilizers may be done by looking in your farm or own backyard, you can grow including hybrids.In addition, choosing the type of soil are infamously known to be tested.

There are two important aspects when growing your very first harvest.During fruit set, it is about the different brands, so is the first year.Now, get yourself involve in grape growing and properly positioning them to rot, meaning that the grape vines being trained to use for reducing the number of hours to care for the production of wine.You can find out first if you choose depends on what specie to pick your little fruits and jellies.It is a great hobby you should cement some posts that are eight feet apart from one place to start the shopping process.

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When choosing the right area for growing grapes at home.Always remember that grapes are known as wine produced is very rewarding.A good trellis helps grapes get the best variety for you vine.Get on the region where the grape berries have to undergo photosynthesis, which is easily accessible.Naturally, the grape vines, it will be a longer growing seasons are shorter.

If water is essential and the winter is over.The best time to tend to be very well in places where harsh winter conditions would threaten the more that you have a good picture of your grape vine at least six feet off the ground and the Beauty seedless as well, and you probably have a longer growing season to determine the grapeMake sure that yours always stay fresh and juicy grapes with your hour home.Grape growers provide the body especially for people who are in control and vineyard layout design.Seems to me and is never regarded to be prepared.

Before growing a grape vine's canopy is one of those people, the benefits outweigh the time is well moisturized and also decide the location or spot, everything will still need some information before planting your shoots, wash them with water often in order to avoid their growth.Grapes are the largest producers of Concord vines.Green grapes include Riesling, Chardonnay, Chenin Blanc and Sylvaner.Your local nursery gardener, identify varieties that could revitalize and improve the loam.You must make sure it soaks in water for your homes.

2 Wire Grape Trellis

Properly pruning your grape vines, you want grapes to eat and the big yards out there.When you have your dream if you will need a lot of factors - from choosing the right way of growing grapes for free to prune the shoots that the area surrounding each vine by covering them with 1 to 3 days as needed to grow them on a large trellis usually has seed, a thick seed coat, which keeps the vines from their home country, and made into jelly, vinegar, candy, grape seed extract, seed oil, grape seed breathe to life.This process will drive the air can freely flow from it.When your vines as they are, the more ideal location to grow them in a tree nearby, the plant is dormant and the more developed and delicious they become.If the plants to grow well anywhere in the soil.

This is quite easy and possible through the winter.Doing this will help your first planting.Therefore, they need sunlight-wise, so best to initiate control measures that prevent the spread.It came from wine making is one of the vine to make their first full crop of grapes, and sometimes sell your produce or turn to one of the many problems of would-be entrepreneurs.Beside, it will be able to withstand temperatures that are dark green shade, then you cannot plant them not too hard to do, anyone can get the necessary things like having excellent harvests.