#so like all the food groups equally represented

[prima-materia-ttrpg]

Species Highlight - Humans

What if there was a type of creature that enjoyed climbing on things? A species heavily motivated by social bonds and the need to stack rocks? What if I told you this fantasy species exists in Prima Materia? Perhaps you would be surprised that such an interesting and cool species is in the game. Without further ado- here's humans.

Humans on Patek, like humans on Earth, have developed many different groups and cultures over the thousands of years they've been loose. Of course, humans from Earth no longer exist as they died out an impossibly long time ago. Despite their different cultures and practices separated at times by ten thousand or more years of isolation, humans hold a few things in common between them. Their endurance, their ambition, and their ability to pack bond with nearly anything.

Human endurance has no equal among the sapient species of Patek. This is reflected mechanically, giving humans extra Fatigue Points and a bonus to rolls when determining Fatigue Points on level up. Their ability to pack bond with almost anything is reflected by the second unique trait humans get, "Social Creature." When a human thinks it's bonded with someone, whether that be a pet or a person, they get a bonus to protect that creature as well as a general bonus after socializing with them.

Human ambition isn't represented mechanically, but rather through world building and narrative. In particular, I like the idea of humans being uniquely driven to build large things; monuments, pyramids, palaces. They have made some of the most impressive buildings on the planet, and many groups are still trying to one-up another in this regard. In the setting's current time period, the focus is on skyscrapers.

But of course, for everything humans have in common there are a dozen ways in which they differ. And it's the differences that are the most interesting, after all.

Looking through Windows

There are many different cultures and kingdoms of men, so we'll look through the windows of a select few to see what it's like to live there, and what the people are like.

The Northmost points of Eastern Atiyeret are covered in evergreen woods, and half the time covered in snow. Summer beckons the snow to melt the other half of the year, with temperatures in some months reaching above 50F (10C). For thousands of years the people there have done what people do: live and do things. There are several groups of humans in NorthEastern Atiyeret, though they all hold commonalities between them. Many hold the same religion, many raise and ride bearzoi, and many have placed fish at the backbone of their economies. Those who come into contact with the northerners have brought tales both of lucrative trade and of bloody battle. They have a reputation for their brutal martial prowess as they ride fearsome beasts into combat. A reputation shared only by those who ride horses in the west. Most northerners organize into groups based on familial and traditional ties called tribes, where family name is important and in some cases decides what your role in society is. These groups can range from being the size of a small village, to encompassing several towns. Some tribes can get larger, and in the past that's allowed for families to take control and create dynasties.

The human kingdoms of Western Atiyeret consider themselves the pinnacle of modernity. They have railways, textile factories, and tall buildings. One kingdom in particular, the United Kingdom (named such because it was made from several kingdoms which were united under one banner), is a multicultural Cobb salad which in recent years has disrupted many job markets in the name of industrial progress. The trade capital of the country, made the political capital just ten years back, is the beating heart which sends goods by rail and canal to the rest of the empire, from which in return they are supplied with food and other necessities like producer goods and natural resources. The United Kingdom boasts the most skyscrapers in the world, and soon the first glass skyscraper if their king is to be believed.

The last stop on our tour is the savannas of the Atiyeret peninsula. Separated from Western Atiyeret by desert, and Eastern Atiyeret by mountain and steppe, the peninsula was the birthplace of humanity on Patek. In the northern portion of the peninsula, some of the oldest continually inhabited cities stand to this day. Sadhapor is one such city, once the capital of a spanning empire and a hundred things before that, it's not uncommon to see an archaeological dig when walking through the older parts of the city. Sadhapor itself is ruled by two regents who in turn swear fealty to the dual regents of Rajkhari, one of the current nations of prominence in the area. Located at the mouth of the Naronadhi river where it flows into the Khari gulf, it's a major center of trade as evidenced by its world renowned Great Bazaar, a flurry of sounds, smells, and sights of things brought from far and wide to the main street which stretches from Sadhapor's docks to the city center. Sadhapor itself warrants its own blog post.

This is just a small look at some of the more fleshed out human cultures in Prima Materia, there are many others I want to write and bring to a blog post, but this post is already long and is just meant to give you an idea of what humans are like.

Thank you for reading this far, and being patient for this one. Lots of real life stuff(tm) has been happening and it's been a whirlwind. I'm still going to try to write a blog post every week, this is simply what I want to do. Speaking of, next week will be a mechanics post; specifically on all the combat related things I've been cooking like armor, healing, and death.

Playtests are on my site here, and thank you @donutboxers for the artwork.

[chaosology]

somebody else

— spencer reid x reader

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) /fem!reader

genre: angst part ii here | masterlist

content warnings: none? just bad writing, this is my first post :)

summary: heartbroken over maeve’s death, spencer snaps at the reader who happens to be in love with him, causing her to rethink her relationship with the resident genius

At only 24, Y/N had managed to become the youngest surgical intern at her hospital. She skipped grades and spent years of intense study in university completing her degree, all while juggling a psych class on the side. She had only taken it for fun of course, it was an interesting subject but it wasn't as hands on as the the thrills of surgery. Naturally, she had graduated top of her class with "record breaking" high marks, setting a scary new standard for the generations to come.

Half way through her intern year she was approached by FBI representatives, who were combing through the top 1% of potential candites. They assured her that the unit's headquarters were local and that she could come to the hospital three to four days a week, but would assist a team in tracking down and analysing potential criminals (or 'UnSubs" as the man so vehemently stressed). She was cautious at first, but they promised that it would look great on resumes and she could back out at any time. Eventually, she caved and agreed. Her friends and collegues at the hospital all supported her - after all, this was a once in a lifetime oppurtunity.

Before she was introduced to her new team, she was sent letters instructing her of what was expected. She was to complete a certain amount of hours at the gym, complete a fire arms assessment, a physical and a mental competency test. Probably to make sure I'm not a serial killer, she thought, but wouldn't that be ironic? She passed them all with flying colours (as to be expected) and was sent an email inviting her to an introductory dinner with the group. Whether they did this for everyone she didn't know, but she hoped they would welcome her with open arms and notthink less of her because of her age.

Immediatly when she met them she knew they were good people. They were walm and close and all around comforting . The biggest shock of all, however, was the young doctor Spencer Reid. She had never expected someone so close to her age to be working alongside her. She had heard about him from one of her professors in med school, who raved about one of his dissertations from Caltech. She never bothered to read it of course (who really cares about engineering, anyway?) but had always thought about the boy who had managed to capture the attention of her famously cold hearted teacher. She had assumed he would be cold, arrogent and stuck up, but instead her was awkward and clumsy. He told nerdy jokes that made only him laugh and treated her as an equal from the moment they met. From then on, she was consumed.

She eventually fell into a groove while working two jobs, balancing both her lives while simultaneously falling harder and harder for the boy who worked across from her. At first she thought it wasn't mutual, but as time passed she picked up on how he would often stay late to escort her to the bus stop and make sure to text to see if she was home safe. Or when he bought Doctor Who movies and sugary foods when she lost a beloved patient at the hospital. Or when he let her cry in his arms on the jet after a particurly tough case. She had overheard from Penelope that this was particurly unusual for the boy genius, who tended to avoid contact when possible (and if he did hug, there had to be a lot of years of trust and friendship built up mutually). When she pieced it all together, a thrill was sent through her body. Did he really like her back?

She never really had much luck with love. In eighth grade she recieved a rose on valentine's day in her locker from the boy she liked. As it turns out, he got the locker number wrong and intended it for her best friend. There was also her first year of college, where the boy she met on the orientation day insisted on walking her to and from all her classes. She brought him back for family Christmas and then noticed how he gravitated towards her older sister, wanting to hear all about her, leaving Y/N to sit at the table next to cousins she hadn't spoken to in months. It was always like this. A few months ago she thought she could pursue something with an attending at her hospital. He was a neurosurgeon that she clicked instantly with, but then she walked past the on-call room and heard him in an arguement with his girlfriend. Of course he was in a relationship, she had thought. Just her luck.

But of course, they didn't matter now. Spencer could be her everything. She knew it was important for the significant others of agents to understand the demand of their job, whic she did! They understood each other and would look at each other when they though the other wasn't watching. She didn't want to get ahead of herself, but the more time they spent together the more she thought about their future. Maybe he would shyly ask her on a date while they sat through a movie marathon. Myabe he would pick her up from the hospital at the end of her shift and tell her all about his day, his hand resting on her thigh while they sat at the traffic lights. Maybe he would grab her hand while they sat at the table where they first met and get down on one knee, asking her that one important question. Maybe he would tell her about the toxic properties in the paint she flicked it at him as they painted the bedroom the same light purple as his favourite shirt. Maybe, she thought. It had to be coming soon, his not-so-subtle glances were becoming even more obvious.

But then it slipped. It always slipped.

She first noticed his distraction while she told him all about the surgery she performed that day. Usually he would nod animatedly and interrupt to tell her a fact that even she didn't know. But as they stood outside the hospital entry (he offered to carpool every thursday), she couldn't help but wonder why he kept looking over at the payphone across the road. Maybe it was a one off? A tough day in the FBI isn't unheard of afterall, she thought. However, he continued his strange behaviour all the drive home. Uncomfortable silences followed by some unprompted facts about genetecists and their work. When he dropped her off outside her door, he told her he could no longer go through with their Thursday rituals. Something about scheduled phone calls, he said. He didn't make eye contact, either.

After a while, it was just her stealing the glances. She could no longer feel his gaze burning into the back of her head. When she would look at him, he was always smiling down fondly at his copy of 'The Narrative of John Smith'. In fact, he was always smiling. It was that same lovestruck smile she would recognise on herself when she looked in the mirror. A smile that definitley wasn't for her.

It was a windy day when Derek had finally called him out on it. The "Hey pretty boy, who's painted that smile on your face?" ringing out in the almost empty bullpen. She stiffened, looking up from her coffee and notes on the desk while discretely eavesdropping. "It's... It's nobody. Well, not nobody. Her name is Maeve. But don't say anything about it." He had whispered back. She had cracked. Her vision blurring the paper below her as she slowly stood and excused herself to the bathroom. Nobody had noticed her leaving.

She was the other girl. The somebody else.

She had always been a sacraficial person, which explained why she tearily offered herself as hostage instead of the beautiful Maeve Donovan. Like in eighth grade, when she sadly handed the rose back to her best friend. After all, she just wanted her to be happy. Or when she told her boyfriend to “go for it!” with her sister, even when they were still in a relationships. More than anything, she wanted the people around her to be happy. And as a doctor, she had a responsibility to keep those around her alive. So she threw herself in front of Spencer and towards the two women, landing unsteadily as she pleaded and cried. She couldn’t even here what she was saying, all the words a blur among the tears and rush of adrenaline. But what she dreaded most came next. The shrill cry of a bullet, the thud as Spencer fell to his feet in tears. Y/N stood still as time stopped. She looked around the room, feeling her breaths shorten by the second as the room started spinning. And then it all went black.

She had heard from JJ that he was ignoring everyone’s calls, only taking in gift baskets once he was sure the owner had left. In typical Spencer fashion, he was bottling himself and his feelings up. Surely for a man of his intelligence he knew it had to be a bad idea. She cared too much about him to let him suffer alone, and while she knew that facing him would cause her grief, she just had to see him. She knocked slowly on his door, calling out a soft “Spencer... It’s me. Y/N.” There was no answer, so she hesitantly took his spare key from his pocket and clicked open the door.

The apartment was dark, but she could still make out his figure wallowing on the couch. He was sitting upright surrounded by pillows and tissue boxes. There was the faint sound of the tv in the background, though she couldn’t make out what was on. “Spence... hey”, Y/N muttered. Her hand running up along the couch and onto the back of his neck. “Look, I know things are awful. And I can’t offer much, but if you need someone to cry on, to sit in silence with, I’m here. I know how it feels to live someone you love”. Her voice broke over the last few words but he didn’t notice. Or if he did, he didn’t care. “She was amazing, Spence. Just let us help you. We can do whatever you want, just let us in... Please?”

He stayed silent. And as her hand started to move up his back, he snapped.

“Let you in? Let you in so you can do what? Get Maeve killed. You’ve done enough already, Y/N. Leave.” He yelled, standing up with enough force to send her scampering back. He was never the kind of guy to have a temper, and the slightest raise of his voice sent Y/N into a spiral. “It wasn’t the team that got her killed, Y/N. It was you”. The way he spit her name brought tear to her eyes, as if she was disgusting and worthless. “You walked in without backup. You, with no experience in negotiation. It’s like you wanted her dead.”

“Spencer, you know I would nev-”

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N! Her blood is on your hands, her parents lost a daughter because of you. It should’ve been you.”

“Please, Spence, you don’t mean that. You’ll work yourself up over it later, just please-”

“I do mean it. I wish it was you. Now leave”

“Spence-”

“Enough. Just leave. You’re no longer welcome here. You’re nothing to me.”

She had tried so hard to keep it together, but the venom behind his words was too much for her to take. She sobbed, grabbing her keys and walking towards the door. He had made himself clear.

“And on your way out, leave the keys. I don’t want you coming by again, Y/N.”

She paused, not daring to look back as she dropped them next to his wallet on the chest of drawers. She left without a word, holding it together until she got to the elevator. As soon as the doors closed she let out a loud sob, her hand coming to her mouth in an attempt to stay quiet. She knew he didn’t mean it, that he was overcome by grief and anger that was bottled up for too long and she just happened to be the victim. In a way, maybe it was better it was her so the others didn’t get their feelings hurt. It cut like glass, the way he referred to her as if she was so worthless. It cut deep.

Spencer had lost his love. And she had just lost hers.

She sniffled her way home and collapsed on the couch. She was too sad to cry, too tired to be angry. She almost felt nothing. She slept a dreamless sleep, feeling time pass her by as she later motionless in the dark room. It was peaceful in some ways.

When she awoke the next morning, she made sure to get there early. She marched straight into Hotch’s office and turned in her resignation. He could sense something was wrong but didn’t want to crack her already fragile state. When she was done clearing out her desk, the others had started to arrive. She embraced them all and promised to keep in touch. It had been an eventful few months she had told them, but it was time for her to go back to the hospital where she belonged. After all, it sounded better than “the man I love just shattered my heart into a million pieces by telling me I should have died, and now being around you all makes me physically sick.”

She looked back to her empty desk as the elevator doors shut. Maybe one day she would see Spencer again, when they were both healed, but for now she just had to grieve.

​

Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another. — Thomas Merton

[rachelsshowerthoughts]

Aware AU thought but, https://www.tumblr.com/tumblingxelian/754631895572267008/justanotherpersonsuniverse-i-didnt-watch?source=share

This very much gives the idea that Lila's mother is the intensely absent, IE neglectful parent who compensates by saying sweet things but doesn't back it up with any action.

Which likely also made it harder for Lila to really communicate her issues because her mom says nice things, she makes sure she has food, & sometimes spends time around her.

Who would believe her mom is anything but a bit busier than Lila would like? Don't be spoiled Lila, your mother works so hard for you!

With her likely internalizing her mothers sweet nothings as lies & lying herself to trick others to get by a little easier, to get a little attention she so craves, to cover for problems or mistakes.

I think the song Our Word would sum her up very well, either just the first portion as here here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_Y3DVFF0spY Or the full song here, which could also maybe represent a sort of, "This is what I could have become" angle: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h9RHJTpLOVk

so, first off, the first thing I thought when I heard the song in its entirety was "Musical Lila!Akuma", so that’s going to live rent free in my head all day.

yeah, I think the implication is definitely supposed to be "absent mom" (though I think this is before the "multi-mom" nonsense) and I always took it as, the one thing Lila DOES tell the truth about is her mom's job. Ambassador is up in the air, but definitely works for the Italian embassy, which would actually go a long way to explaining a lot about Lila.

If Lila's mom is an Italian ambassador, Lila probably is well travelled, and probably has met SOME important people, at least by proxy. The best lies have a kernel of truth in there somewhere, after all. It’s plausible she could have met most of these people. She's also probably never in the same place longer than a year or so. She moves to a lot of new places, many of which may or may not have a language in common with her. She probably never shows up at the start of a school year, but partway through, when everyone's already formed their friend groups. She’s always "the new girl", either seen as a weird foreigner, or a shiny new toy with fun stories of other places. But how many people stick around when the stories dry up? Better make more stories, better stories, so you aren’t alone - and then it doesn’t even matter, because you'll be gone in six months, and eventually all your "friends" have steady lives to get back to, so they stop calling, stop texting, and you're right back where you started.

Plus, how much time do you think she's actually spent in Italy, in her own house, since she was little? Does she see the rest of her family?

Also, I find it interesting we don’t see her dad. Mostly cause the other kids have either really well established home lives, or we ignore them, with the implication they are "normal". If there are single parents, we eventually do get explanations - Anarka either never told Jagged or he decided he wouldn’t be a good dad, Mylene's mom sucked, Felix's dad died (and also sucked), we won't even get into Gabriel and Emilie. I think the only other "Sir-Not-Appearing-In-This-Show" parent we get no info on is Kagami's dad. So, where's Mr. Rossi?

Sick? Died? Missing? Divorced? Was he a nice guy? Equally neglectful? Did he know about Lila's lies? Did he encourage it? Ignore it? Is Mrs. Rossi acting like this cause of something to do with her husband? Is she mourning him? Did he cheat on her? Was she even ever married? Is Lila technically a bastard baby? Or is her mom truly a single mom - wanted a kid, went through IVF?

(I mean, I have similar questions about Kagami's dad, but if we keep the Sentimonster stuff, along with everything else, then it does actually make sense that Tomoe never had a romantic partner of any kind, she just wanted a kid/heir, no partner was involved at any point)

@tumblingxelian

[grainelevator]

I’m so so sorry this is going to be a really long rant but !!!! FUCK !!!! I’ve been desperate for this conversation.

We had a dinner guest very confidently say, word for word, that health is a colonial concept. Queue a chorus of tongue to the top-teeth disapproving *clicks* and the sound of my grandmother decisively putting her fork down. The questions started coming with an underlying tone of absolute distain. “What is health?” “Do you mean the healthcare system?” “Do you see an alternative here?” “Do you know why there isn’t one?” “Are you aware we fight tooth and nail for access to this so-called colonial concept and the system that facilitates it?”

Immediately this white girl is shaking in her boots (I don’t blame her, my grandma is 58, capable of lifting a car, and probably of scalping a dinner guest if the need ever arose). But it became so obviously clear over the course of her attempt to explain that what she meant is “native culture is unhealthy, health is a deviation from and erasure of native culture” which is, uhhhh, bullshit. I feel like so many people (liberal and upper class white women in particular) see a facet of colonial society that isn’t equally represented in minority communities and then interpret it as being a colonial invention as opposed to a colonial privilege. The same goes for “settled dwelling is a colonial concept” no it isn’t, lots of us did that for centuries, it just sucks now because a colonial system got dropped on top of the practice. Saying health, housing, parenting, etc are Colonial Concepts is saying outright that you cannot envision indigenous people as presently or historically capable of upholding those ideals in an equal capacity.

Progressive language does not negate the inherent infantilisation or racism of that belief. Furthermore, treating liberation from the material and social suffering of our condition as a deviation from our culture betrays the fact that you understand it exclusively from the perspective of colonial power and abuse. Thus, native culture (and african american culture) becomes, in the eyes of white liberals, synonymous with what was inflicted upon us as opposed to who we are. How dare we aspire towards health when to do so is a betrayal of our culture? Our culture being traumatisation, grief, victimhood, and above all else, a necessary social technology of both white guilt and white liberal saviourship.

Wow. Do NOT apologize for this! You are a great writer and your arguments are excellent.

I’ve been thinking about these connections a lot too. A very strong example of how consumption impacts health (I can’t believe I actually have to say that) and how these health conditions (including how these problems are managed) affect different groups in different ways are food swamps. Food swamps are areas that have little access to nutritious food, caused by factors such as cost and physical availability. In North America, native people and black people are significantly more likely to live in food swamps. These populations are less valued and seen as expendable.

It is well established that consumption of highly-processed food leads to negative health outcomes. However, the people who follow the rhetoric of positions such as “health is a colonial construct” (It’s not - health exists as a spectrum, and the delineation of healthy and unhealthy may be highly variable. This is not the same thing as non-existence) are also the ones who deny the cause and effect nature of health. This misinformation is especially harmful in places with a high population of people who are already marginalized. No one benefits from the insistence that diet does not influence disease…except for the corporations making people sick.

Food companies are not your friends. Pharmaceutical companies are not your friends. Preventative diseases line their pockets. Your wellbeing and that of others needs to come before their profit.

[bookwyrminspiration]

hello so i sent you something very similar to this a few months ago but it looks like tumblr ate my og ask because i haven't seen it so i'm resending it except i don't remember my exact words so i have to rewrite it from scratch lmfao

about elves and culture: at one point i remember you mentioning offhandedly in some post that elves are all white culturally (i tried for about fifteen minutes to find it, but you know. tumblr.) which is another way the series lacks diversity (besides the obvious barely-any-non-white-people and no non-allocishet people) and i was thinking about how shannon could have even have fixed this problem because the elves are a monolith when it comes to culture. yeah, they have different races, but all the races have the same culture. so i was like. ok. how would shannon even incorporate multiple cultures into the story? how would it even be possible to show cultural diversity in a story where the elves all live in the same society? and i came up with a few ideas:

could do a mashpot, where everyone in the lost cities has bits of every single culture ever mixed into one (somehow). i have two ideas for this

mashpot option one: have the different aspects of a culture each come from different cultures (for example, clothes of one culture and the food of a different culture and traditions of the another culture and so on). putting it all together, this would create a collage-culture of sorts, which would be quite jarring, but it could be effective if done well, i think.

mashpot option two: they could have the different aspects of a culture pull from every culture ever. for example, the elves could eat foods that taste like foods from all around the world, instead of foods that just taste like american foods (as someone who hates the taste of stereotypically american food, i can say i would hate eating anything from the lost cities). or have them celebrate a variety of holidays or something across the whole year, each of which is representative of a different culture.

could have different groups of elves each have different cultures. i also have two ideas for this

different groups option one: each family line has a different culture or something like that. so you have cultural diversity through each family having a different culture and everyone being accepting of that. this could include different clothes, food, traditions, architecture, celebrations, and all that stuff (maybe not language though lmfao). this would at least be able to somewhat showcase different cultures, although it would have to have been done really half-assedly. this would also have a huge skew toward white cultures because most of the characters are white.

different groups option two: create different clans of elves, all of whom have mutual respect for each other. each clan of elves can have a different culture. this would literally be separate societies of elves. however, they could all respond to the same council, which is made of people from all the clans in the name of equality. this way, the monolithicity of the elves would be intact and while still showing some diversity of culture.

shannon makes up her own culture that is completely unlike any culture we've ever heard of, ever. equal neglect of all cultures is equality. sophie eats an umber leaf and is like "this tastes like nothing i've ever eaten before and tastes like it shouldn't even be a real food but i like it". sophie is shown their clothes and it's just a dress made out of solid, opaque crystal. their traditions involve scratching random shapes in the ground and dancing around them in a specific way. this is the chaos option.

this wouldn't really showcase cultural diversity, but instead of an all-white culture, it could be a non-white culture monolith. but then there's the same problem of "why do all the elves have the same exact culture, where's the diversity?" except a different flavor. it would also be really weird because most of the characters in the series are canonically white.

elves don't have any culture. not gonna lie, i have no idea how this would work. this is the other chaos option. up to interpretation, i guess.

thoughts? what would you do if you were shannon. i don't really see any other options for fixing this problem, but there might be something i missed.

(also, yes, i am sending this three times. sorry for annoying you. i want to make sure at least one makes it to your inbox this time lol.)

Hey! So sorry about that--I don't know exactly how long you were waiting, but if it ever seems a while you can send an ask sooner to double check!

Before I get into this, I will say: there is no one right way to approach this topic and I am one person. These are just my thoughts--and I am always open to hearing from others

That said, just to clarify my first point (from this ask, thanks for the link), what I meant by "the elves are all white culturally" is that the kotlc elven culture is fabricated, but seems largely white american inspired. Which makes sense, as that's what Shannon is. There's always going to be a level of bias from one's own experiences and life, it's legitimately impossible to avoid and not always a bad thing. In some cases though, we want to temper it a little, which I don't think it really was in kotlc.

Like you said, there's multiple ways to approach this.

I think the crux is how race, in the elven world, means nothing--but this story exists in a world where it means a lot. While race is a social construction (the meanings/distinctions we assign to skin color are arbitrary) and therefore can be given a null significance, doing so is difficult because socially constructed doesn't mean meaningless/insignificant

We also run into complications given how scattered elves are--I've brought this up regarding clothing, but the physical geography of one's community shapes not only what you wear, but what you grow, how you build, etc. And we don't have that landmark for the elves

I think either an elven monoculture or multiple would work, it's just a matter of what you'd want to do.

If we go for a monoculture as Shannon has, I'd personally go for its own unique culture rather than a mash-up. A mash-up seems too likely to remove significant context/meaning from the source, and the elves are supposed to be isolated from humans. I think Shannon choosing this was fine, it was the execution I dislike.

The food comparisons you mention, for example. Or the family structures. Beauty standards. The education system. They don't actually feel like a distinct monoculture, it feels American with a fantasy filter. If, for example, we expanded on how being immortal affects your family (everyone's still alive, what kinds of relationships does that create, etc.), or how they're taught (instead of lectures and homework, maybe more hands on involvement, travel for hands-on since they can do so instantly, different kinds of tests, etc.), then I'd be more satisfied. I know there's some level of familiarity so readers aren't lost, but it's a little too much, in my opinion

If we were going instead for multiple elven cultures, I think I'd personally base it on ability. It's the most defining thing in their world and could easily be taken further. There'd be kinks to work out given kids don't automatically inherent their parents' abilities, have to manifest, and that people with the same ability don't generally group together, but! that's not insurmountable

kids could be raised within their parents' ability cultures/customs and then, if they manifest a different ability, its culture could be passed via their instructors--which wouldn't necessarily be at Foxfire. Those who differ from their parents, perhaps, would be expected to seek out additional mentor figures and become more multi-culture kids in the process. just because they don't group in canon now doesn't mean they can't here (and could be seen as more necessary given how much ability cross-marriages there are). There could also be more celebratory days around abilities--e.g. a kind of ceremony conducted when a kid manifests. Lots of different ways to take it, the point is just that abilities, I think, make a great base for different elven cultures given how massively important it is in their world.

We're critiquing/discussing diveristy, so something to consider, I think, is what is diversity in the context of kotlc? We want a variety of people to be reflected in the story--but we're dealing with isolated non-humans, so including a variety of human cultures won't necessarily achieve that goal.

The main thing that comes up (or at least that I've seen discussed) is the lack of non-white characters and the fairly american constructed culture--so the course of action to take could be a better balance of physical descriptor (more non-white characters) that creates the varied reflections/connections we want, and a more distinctly elven culture that leans into it harder, making it less American.

I'll stop here for now until this gets too long, but at the moment that's the general direction of my thoughts. I think it's a fine thought experiment to ask "what if culture wasn't tied to race?" you just don't want to then forget that even though your fantasy book doesn't consider race, it exists in a society that does. which could lead us into further discussion on sterotypes as well, which also factors into all this

and again: these are just my personal initial thoughts. it's a broad, complex topic, so there will of course be things I miss or don't get to. but regardless, i hope that at least partially answers your question of what I would do :)

[shamandrummer]

Shamanic Cosmology: The Reality of the Soul

Myth is the reality of the soul, just as history is the reality of the temporal world. Humans have always looked beyond the factual world of ordinary reality for something solid on which to ground their lives. The models of the mystery of life have always been based on the wisdom of inner vision. "Mythological cosmologies do not correspond to the world of gross facts, but are functions of dreams and visions," writes the late Joseph Campbell, one of the great mythologists of the twentieth century.(1) Dreams and visions have always been, and will always be, the creative forces that shape cosmology, which embodies a culture's basic ideas, truths and understanding about the nature of the universe. A culture's mythical cosmology gives physical shape to its mystical ideas in the form of stories and rituals. It is an inherent product of the psyche, a symbolic language of metaphysics recognized by shamans and seers.

Mythological cosmology is evocative rather than referential. It is not science or history, but rather symbolism that serves as a catalyst of spiritual well-being. In shamanic cultures, mythic cosmology serves a dual function. It not only engages the individual both emotionally and intellectually in the local tribe, but also serves as a means of disengaging from this local system in order to experience the "Great Mystery." It disengages the individual from the integrating component of ordinary thinking consciousness and invokes the mysteries of the imagination and intuition. The emphasis is on the individual, of breaking free and discovering one's own uniqueness in order to bring something new back to the group.

Shamanic practitioners utilize trance-inducing rhythmic drumming as a means of journeying into the mythic realms of the soul. Transported by the driving beat of the drum, the journeyer travels to the inner planes of consciousness, using myth as an inner map to guide their journey. There is a bridge on the sound waves of the drum that convey you from one world to another. In the sound world, a tunnel opens through which you can pass. When you stop playing the drum, the bridge disappears.

Cosmologically, the drum depicts a microcosm of the universe, as well as the vehicle of travel. Carried away on the sound of the drum, the shaman's spirit is said to ride on the animal whose hide is stretched over the drum frame. The frame of the shaman's drum is invariably round, symbolizing the circle of life. In the shaman's world, all aspects of life, energy, and the cosmos spiral in circles. The plants, the animals, the minerals, and the elemental forces of nature all exist within the circle. All creatures walk the circumference of the wheel of life, experiencing birth, life, and death. After completing a cycle of learning on the sacred wheel, each one returns to the source, the Great Mystery at the center of the circle.

Transformations of Myth through Time

The cosmology of the drum, as well as that of shamanism itself, represents the worldview of animistic Paleolithic hunting societies. The archetypal symbolism developed from a reciprocal relationship that existed between animals hunted and the tribal cultures dependent for sustenance on their offering themselves. The totemic animals or animal archetypes are themselves great teachers as well as man's co-descendants from the mythical paradise. The totemic animals gave to humans the rites to be performed whenever game animals were slain so that their spirits would return to the source for rebirth. The hunt itself was a rite of sacrifice. When the rites were properly performed and recognition thus given to the order of nature, then harmony with nature was maintained and a food supply assured.

The structures of shamanic cultures are circular. Like the hoop of the drum, the circle represents the wheel of life. All are equal in the circle; no one is above or below. In a circle, each person's face can be seen; each person's voice can be heard and valued.

Agriculture transformed the structures and cosmologies of shamanic cultures. Nomadic, subsistence hunting societies were assimilated into food growing communities structured on hierarchy. The Neolithic order of agricultural societies imposed a rigid social system on Paleolithic peoples used to the freedom and rites of the hunt. The plant displaced the animal as the model of the mysteries of life. Complex ceremonials and rituals based on the cycle of death and rebirth in the plant kingdom rigidly interlocked all individuals into the endless formal procedure. Shamans, with their individualistic style of spiritual experience, were viewed as a threat to the dogma of the ecclesiastical hierarchies. Shamanism was discredited as heresy and replaced by a socially anointed priesthood.

The paramount function of mythic cosmology in agricultural societies has always been that of suppressing individualism. Generally, this has been achieved by imposing dogmatic archetypes of behavior, symbols, and belief systems on people. Individual expression, interests, or modes of experience contrary to the social mandala are discouraged. The cultural imprinting of hierarchical, agriculturally based societies leaves the individual outside the realm of personal spiritual experience. Any sense of the Great Mystery is beyond the individual's grasp.

Today the mythologies of hierarchy and the priesthood are dissolving. Individuals are searching for new ways to relate to nature and spirituality. Joseph Campbell wrote, "What is required of us all, spiritually as well as corporeally, is much more the fearless self-sufficiency of our shamanistic inheritance rather than the timorous piety of the priest-guided Neolithic."(3)

Shamanic cosmology is one of disengagement from the rigid patterns that suppress the manifestations of individualism. Through the beat of the drum, a sense of the original source is evoked, along with the forces of the universe, which have been suppressed in the subliminal abyss of the unconscious for six thousand years. The drum, as a microcosm, becomes a tool for effecting changes in the macrocosm. It enables us to participate directly in the work of encountering and transforming our inner structure, which mirrors our culture. Structure determines how energy will flow, where it will be directed, and what new forms and structures will be created. Through the transformation of our inner landscapes, we transform the external landscapes. We create new forms, new structures that are not based on hierarchy, estrangement, and exploitation. We renew the sacred hoop of harmony and balance. This is the work of the shaman--of myth making.

Joseph Campbell, The Flight of the Wild Gander (South Bend: Regnery/Gateway, Inc., 1979).

Joseph Campbell, The Flight of the Wild Gander.

[saints-who-never-existed]

Rereading The Terror

Chapter Fifty-Two: Goodsir

The first thing I think it worth noting about this chapter is that I believe it's the first of Goodsir's to be written in the third person and not as a diary entry from the man's own perspective - "...the surgeon had no stomach for keeping his diary. He tossed the stained leather book into his travelling medical kit and left it there." I find that shift fascinating and think it very much speaks of hopelessness and resignation on Goodsir's part - with death so imminent, after all, what story is there really left for him to tell in his own words?

He reflects a little on the short time that's passed since the great reckoning with Hickey's mutineers. They've divided up what little food remains, equally and scrupulously, no man really trusting another anymore. A representative "of each class of man on the ship - officers, warrant officers, petty officers, able seamen" share the task of searching out food from every remaining nook and cranny in camp while the rest of the men watch them do so. I find that a very interesting detail - in real life, in the book, and in the show, so much comes down to class divides and decorum and that's always worth talking about more.

Goodsir also reflects on his own grisly monologue vis a vis proper human butchery: "...while he was giving Hickey... the anatomical details of carving up the human body to serve as sustenance, Harry D. S. Goodsir had been horrified to find himself salivating." (Horrible From Supper, baby! Horrible From Supper!)

The three men who intend to set off across the island back to the ship have already departed carrying almost nothing - not even a tent. In contrast, Hickey and co. have loaded their boat down with all manner of random and useless bits and bobs: "Men all over camp...had been abandoning useless items - hairbrushes, books, towels, writing desks, combs - bits of civilisation they'd hauled for a hundred days and now refused to haul any farther, and, for some inexplicable reason, Hickey and his men had loaded as many of these rejected pieces of junk into their pinnace..." This is another thing I find utterly fascinating and can't quite parse all my feelings on just yet. What does it mean to reach that breaking point and to finally abandon, to reject those 'symbols of civilisation'? And what does it mean to take up those same symbolic items that others have abandoned?

Goodsir watches Hickey's group depart the camp and all he can think about is the trail of now-frozen corpses they've left behind them, sure that Hickey is counting on finding those preserved bodies for his groups' survival. "I just hope they do not find the subordinate officers' steward's body. I liked John Bridgens. He was a dignified man and deserves better than to be devoured by the likes of Cornelius Hickey." We have a few other specific characters mentioned that also break my heart. We hear that Jopson will be dead from scurvy within a couple of days, and that Tom Hartnell, acting as Goodsir's new assistant, has volunteered to stay behind with the ill men and face certain death himself. :(((

Returning to the subject of cannibalism, we learn that Goodsir has decided already that he will never partake in it. Interestingly though, it's clear that he doesn't condemn the act outright: "Yet he would also never cast judgement on the men here at Rescue Camp or on the expedition south who did end up eating human flesh to last a short while longer. If any man on the Franklin Expedition understood that the human body was a mere animal vessel for the soul - and only so much meat once that soul had departed - it was their surviving surgeon and anatomist, Dr Harry Goodsir." It's a fascinating viewpoint, especially when considering Goodsir in the show - like, his actions there being indicative not necessarily of a disgust with cannibalism itself but more at the nefarious and underhanded way Hickey has gone about committing the act is not an unfair interpretation to consider, I think. ("You’ve murdered this man whom you now wish to eat and are unwilling to butcher his flesh yourself.")

Soon enough, he's summoned to a meeting with Crozier and the remaining senior crew. Contrary to their previous plan, it seems they cannot quite bring themselves to abandon the ill just yet and have resolved at least to wait at Rescue Camp a while longer. They hope that they still might be able to hunt game in that time, and that the ice may finally break up enough that they can all leave - the sick and the still-'strong' alike - in the boats. Again, Goodsir's reaction to this is very interesting: "Goodsir nodded slowly. He had been so reconciled to the certainty of his own death in the coming days or weeks that even the thought of potential salvation was almost painful."

Nevertheless, that plan is settled on. They'll all remain at Rescue camp for now, they'll keep an eye out for any more nefariousness from Hickey's mutineers, they'll hope for a thaw of the ice, and for game and fish to appear once they move on: "...but [we] may have to pin our hopes on catching fish... a real probability according to such as explorers as George Back and our own Sir John Franklin." "Sir John also ate his shoes." said Corporal Pearson. And if that rejoinder wasn't hilarious enough, the chapter actually ends on a positive note with a bit of gallows humour as Crozier himself jokes that the reason he brought so many spare boots along wasn't just to protect the men's feet on the long march but as a secret source of food. The absurdity of this has them all suddenly crying with laughter, poor sods. "Shhh!" Crozier said at last, sounding like a schoolmaster with boys but still chuckling himself." :')

[glngrbred]

On inherent stories and worldbuilding

OK so the title is pretentios but you looked at it right? cool

I legitimately would realy apreciate it if you read or loosely read this, this project is very important to me and I've worked alot on it. Thank you for reading at all, go drink some water, love u <3

anyways, Im making a cardgame right now, like MTG but hopefully monotized in a more ethical way. like, as a 1 time purchase or subscription.

So, In my game there is a very heavy emphasis on ecology, and it is basically explicitly environmentalist propoganda, that's not the point tho, what we are trying to do initially is trick people into thinking about environmental issues with cool worldbuilding. And on that worldbuilding, as lead desiner/writer person, I think I can actually share some pretty good tips.

Some quick background, not super important. In our wold there a 4 color identities, wich is both for gameplay (mtg inspired) and lore (also mtg inspired) Red, white(yellow), Green, black(purple), for each of wich is a place on an alighnment chart and teirs within the factions represented by these colors. again, like MTG

On that topic, of the factions and identities these card colors and gameplay elements represent, I have some tips for Dms and other worldbuilders.

My main thing, Is inherrent stories (built in stories).

As an example,

The Orks in my world are reptilian hominids obsessed with fire. As a starting point my desire was to do a new type of Ork, where we maintain the motif of chaos alighned "Monsters" who's actions serve the bad guys, like in WoW or LotR. from there I knew that my red faction was fire themed, but building up this concept was kinda hard for me. I didn't really know hoe to start with meeting this desire while subverting the typical Ork tropes.

So I decided to take the aproach of working from first my desire to have a fire ascociation. I Already had a theme of the main humanoids in my world being ascociated or related to specific animal groups, Goblins have similarity to anteaters, elves bees, and Dorvs beetles and grubs. So I knew the first step in my Orls was going to be Making them some sort of animal.

And i had a good think on that, you know I landed on reptiles. wich seem obvious in hindsight, but at the time I was very excited about this, since it meant there was already a clear connection to be made with fire. since most reptiles cannot regulate heat on their own, a connection to the sun and fire is very easy to make. Especially for a hominid species. Already we have a peice of a narrative, Orks love Fire because they need it to survive cold days. Wonderful, now how do we get that ascociation to chaos and subvert the typical barbaric Orks trope?

My first thought was inspired by Warhammer greenskins, wich isn't super subvertive, just giving orks big techy robots doesn't do much to change the ascociation with brutish methods and uncivilized nature. I knew I wanted to make the Orks more equal intelectually with my other factions, instead of having them be the mindless other bent on chaos. So the step after "Ork like fire" turned out to be their philosophy

What I ended up going for was in my opinion pretty original,

Orks, Due to their reliance on Fire, developed a culture and Philosophy built on the nurturing of "Warmth." Warmth takes many fors for the Orks, they find it in Art, Music, magic, and love. Family and play and Food, and even war. Where the Orkish philosophy deteriorates as a method of governance it the often single minded focus on what makes an individual feel good, and forgetting that other people, even those that don't seek warmth, have needs and desires too. By creating this intrinsic societal issue, where governance ends up focusing on how to make one's tribe as warm as possible, we can create narratives about how desperate poorer comunites are for warmth, how creative they get, and how even bad, and evil deeds can be seen as a positive as long as they bring warmth to your tribe.

We can have wars and espionage and gatherings and beutiful ronmances all built around this pervasive desire for individual pleasure. And we can have stories form when an Ork realizes that the Goblins they've hurt also want good things, and how the Orks realize that their selfish behavior makes the world less warm for everyone. We can have stories about nurturing empathy in a selfish society, and stories about becoming closer to one another, of seperating one's self from those who use them and hurt them.

Also, with this narrative, Orks turn into warbands of bards, preists, and mages, keen on nurturing warmth and helping their ingroup. WHOA we just subverted the barbarian ork trope didnt we? HORRAY ALL OF OUR GOALS HAVE BEEN FULFILLED BY ONE DESCISION SPIRALLING!

Of course perscribing concepts and personality to individual characters based off of their race is a horrible thing to do. but for a group it's very usefull to narrow down concrete adjectives and emotions that are associated with your societies and cultures.

My Advice to you, is try to find your Ork bards, but don;t start there. Think about how society would form around the 4 legged Praying mantis men your story is about, and how different a society could be based off of the physiological environment your characters exist in.

My second peice fo advice, Is that If you want to make a specific type of civilization, As an example, hive cities (like warhammer), try to think about what typre of culture would develope that city? who would live in the underwater Utopia, who would work in the sugar mines, and why do the sugar mines exist? I know It can be increadably difficult to find an angle to take your worldbuilding, so start with 1 small descision, an easy one, like "Do I want my orks to be colorful?" Answer that, then build from there.

final note, Yes, this is an extremely long post, and thank you for reading it,

also ...

👌

I, ME, HAS gotten you HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA *evil gnome voice* You hAVe but THIRTY MINUTES to get someone else before you ARE IT for the rest of your life MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

[luke-r-gillespie]

May 24 - Kinkakuji / Daitokuji

Freewriting

Today I woke up at 7 (with a sore throat) and took this morning's quiz before hightailing it to the morning meeting scheduled for 8:10. I grabbed my breakfast bento on my way out of the door so that I could pick at it during the meeting (the rest of my class did the same.) Immediately following the morning meeting, the whole class poured onto a local bus (because much of Kyoto's public transportation centers around buses, as there are less available train lines.) We road the bus to Kinkaku-ji, a famous Zen Buddhist temple in Kyoto, known for being covered in gold leaf. The temple itself was really cool but due to it being a popular tourist destination and today being Friday, the temple was unfortunately mobbed with tourists.

Our next stop after Kinkau-ji, was Daitoku-ji Temple which was about a 30 minute walk away (this was lightwork, considering that on excursion days I usually average around 25,000 steps.) Daitoku-ji is home to various karesansui gardens (often mislabeled as "Zen gardens" by westerners) that were beautiful. Unfortunately, I was not able to take any photos inside the gardens due to strict rules, but I was able to take photos of the outside temples which were equally as cool! We spent some time mediating within the karesansui gardens and it was a very peaceful and pleasant experience.

Daitoku-ji Temple was todays last group excursion, so after being released a little earlier than I had originally anticipated, I grabbed some lunch with the guys at "The Hamburger." Japan once again delivered with some great and authentic tasting American food (I love burgers.)

After catching a bus back from "The Hamburger," I took a three hour nap (I hadn't been feeling great all day and am probably coming down with what many of my sick classmates have but this nap definitely helped!) Following my nap, I went back into the city with Rich and Zachary where we got some Chinese food and I bought a carry on suitcase to bring home all the stuff that I've bought (I don't know who I was kidding thinking I was only going to need the one I brought with me.) I took it easy for the rest of the night and even got to facetime Corinn!

Academic Reflection

Kinkau-ji was a truly breathtaking site to witness. I find it to be extremely impressive that the temple lasted from its initial conception until 1950. Unfortunately, in 1950 a 21-year old monk burned the historic Zen temple to the ground in an unprecedented act of arson. No one is certain as to why the young man did this but it is heavily speculated (mainly by renowned author Yukio Mishima) that he did so because of his own idealization of the temple's beauty. The prevailing theory is that he committed the act of arson because Kinkau-ji Temple's beauty was preventing him from finding other beauty within his life. Personally, this feels like a reach to me. Especially considering how little is known about the young man who committed the act of arson but regardless it is an interesting perspective.

The other site that we visited today, Daitoku-ji Temple is home to various karesansui gardens (often mislabeled as "Zen Gardens" by the West.) The tour of Daitoku-ji Temple's gardens was really insightful and I found it really interesting how the gardens all represented Buddhist lands of thought. For example, the "flowing river" of small rocks or the large rocks that represented mountains featuring cascading waterfalls.

[canichangemyblogname]

Below, you’ll find the letter/email I sent to all my elected representatives. I only got one response (see: pictures at the end) from Senator Dick Durbin the day before he publicly called for a ceasefire in Palestine. His response is very clearly a stock-response, which is very common in this field. Because his response has little to do with what I discussed in my letter, so much of it amounts to a dismissal of my concerns and requests.

I-- like 80% of democrats-- support an immediate ceasefire in Palestine. I am pleading that you actually listen to your constituents and do something to stop the tragedy. We, the people, have easy demands:

1.) Immediate Deescalation

Call for an immediate ceasefire.

Protection of civilians and establishing safe zones in the Gaza Strip.

2.) Entry of Humanitarian Assistance

Safe passage of humanitarian aid and medical supplies from Egypt through the Rafah crossing. The international community must safeguard this.

Protection of safe, secure, and timely delivery of humanitarian assistance to the affected population inside the Gaza Strip.

Resuming access to water and electricity as well as fuel for medical facilities in the Gaza Strip.

Resuming communication with the people, UN & Red Cross aid workers, and press in Gaza.

3.) A one-state solution that ends Israel's apartheid

Admit that Palestinians live under a one-state reality and Israel is a settler-colonial nation.

Recognize that Palestine has sovereignty, Palestinians deserve self-determination, and the land is currently under occupation.

Merge Israel, the West Bank, and the Gaza Strip into one single democratic country under a parliamentary government with a representative multi-party system.

Make all Palestinians and Israelis equal citizens of one nation. Palestinians must be granted full political and legal rights.

Support fundamental constitutional reform in Israel-Palestine that incorporates significant group rights. The only way to end violence in a deeply divided nation is a mega-constitutional transformation.

Abandon support for Zionism and organize the country on secular, pluralistic grounds rather than ethno-religious grounds.

Dismantle Israel's walls, segregating Palestinians from each other and their land, putting an end to Israel's "open-air prison" and segregation

Stop the forceful eviction of Palestinians from their home and support and encourage the right of return for millions of Palestinian refugees around the world.

Admit that Israel is a failed experiment. The state has critically failed to provide for and protect Jewish people. It has also failed to be a place free of persecution.

Admit the "war on terror' has been a failure and that America's aggressive military strategies and funding have increased terrorism and extremism around the world. Then, find new statecraft strategies.

A commitment to Israel is INCOMPATIBLE with a commitment to the humanitarian needs of the innocent people of Gaza. Some 50% of homes have been destroyed or critically damaged by Israel's carpet bombing campaign. Israel's indiscriminate bombing has also led to the destruction or critical damage of most of Gaza's sanitization facilities, sewage facilities, and water infrastructure, leaving Gazans without clean water. One million Palestinians have been displaced, over 7,000 have been killed, and over 18,000 have been wounded. The majority of the victims are women and children (about 50% of the strip are minors). Over 50 entire Palestinian family lineages have been wiped from the Gaza civil registry due to the bombing. The 2 million Palestinians in the strip are still without clean water, electricity, or food. Israel has targeted over 150 medical facilities-- including hospitals, ambulances, and Red Cross & Red Crescent workers-- as well as UN schools, refugee camps, and residential apartment complexes. Hospitals are out of medicine and are running low on fuel. They are performing surgeries in the dark, without anesthesia, and without running water. And now Israel has cut off all communication with the enclave and within the enclave (which means ambulances and civil defense teams will be unable to locate the injured or people stuck under the rubble amid Israel's bombardment). Excavators have also run out of fuel.

Israel and the Israeli Occupying Forces are causing serious bodily and mental harm to Palestinians throughout Palestine, and they are creating conditions designed to bring about the destruction of Palestinians. This is a textbook case of genocide. And the bombing is only intensifying.

But don't just take my word for it. Listen to Raz Segal, an associate professor of Holocaust and genocide studies at Stockton University, an endowed professor in the study of modern genocide, and an Israeli historian.

https://jewishcurrents.org/a-textbook-case-of-genocide

https://www.democracynow.org/2023/10/16/raz_segal_textbook_case_of_genocide

https://www.wbez.org/stories/a-genocide-scholars-take-on-whats-happening-in-gaza/f5a5ab19-eb99-44f9-9707-08a85856a4d6?audio-first=true

https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2023/oct/24/israel-gaza-palestinians-holocaust

Stop funding genocide. Not another dime. Not another death.

From the river to the sea Palestinians will be free!

I don’t know what’s more insulting. The fact he claims Biden took “swift action” to provide Gazans— who still do not have food, clean water, hygienic products, or medical supplies— with clean water, food, and medical equipment and supplies (hospitals are performing surgeries without anesthesia in the pitch dark). Or the fact that he spent most of his response focusing on the Oct. 7th attack and Hamas. At no point did I mention Hamas. I didn’t contact him about Hamas. Fuck Hamas. Over 9,000 Palestinians are dead. Or… maybe it’s the fact I asked him not to appropriate another dime and his response was essentially, “I did it already and I’ll do it again!”

“No cause or grievance justifies the deliberate killing of innocent civilians.”

Take this logic to its ideological conclusion rather than give me a platitude. If NOTHING justifies killing civilians, then the death of 1,400 Israelis at the hands of Hamas does not justify the carpet bombing massacre of 9,000+ Palestinians. If NOTHING justifies killing civilians, then years of occupation does not justify what Hamas did. Take this platitude shit to its LOGICAL and IDEOLOGICAL conclusion. If NOTHING justifies it, then NOTHING justifies it. But does anyone in our government actually support such a position? No.

How many lives? What is the appropriate ratio of Palestinian to Israeli lives? How many Palestinians until you are satisfied? How many lives???

During the BBC Newshour this morning, a spokesperson for the Israeli State claimed it is a lie that over 9,000 Palestinians have been slaughtered in Israel’s bombing campaign. And then proceeded to claim that— actually— a large chunk of the people who’ve been killed are Hamas terrorists, but that we (the international community) wouldn’t know that because Hamas is controlling all the info out of Gaza. Even info from the likes of the AP, Reuters, Al Jazeera, and the BBC that report massive civilian casualties. Every photo these news outlets release. Every video. Every interview. He indirectly claimed that reporting on the misery in Gaza makes you Hamas-controlled media.

How many lives? The answer is: “as many as they can take.”

[hausofmamadas]

ALL ABOARD THE POBRECITO EXPRESSWAY | The Man, the myth, the OG Pobrecito, Javier Peña

♫ To the tune of One for the Road by Arctic Monkeys ♫

✧

Wow, okay Jesus H Christ. I made another thing? A thing I never thought I’d make. Bc frankly, I’m an insufferable contrarian to my grave, despite the fact that I hate hipsters. I do see the irony. I don’t really— Okay, look. Listen. Doing a massively popular fanfav character has always seemed like a lot of hoopla? There’s already so much content out there, and I’m always like my favs have to be randos that only had like 3 lines in the whole show “Meeeh, what do I have to say that hasn’t already been said. What do I have to add that hasn’t been done yet?” tbh I’m not at all confident that another One for the Road Javier Peña edit isn’t already out there bc the combo is like PB&J

But there is good news porque por lo visto, parece que tengo un bien chinga de cosas que decir about our Javier Peña. He is, as everyone knows, a multi-faceted man: he’s a lover, hes a fighter, but most importantly he is the OG sad!boi, sad sack, bury my feelings in any woman within a 5mi radius bc I prefer that to processing trauma bc who needs sanity or true human connection and King Pobrecito, for which we members of the Narcos/Nmx Fanfic Writer’s Discord have dubbed him, Conductor of the Pobrecito Expressway.

Oh praytell, what is the Pobrecito Expressway? So veryfuckingglad you asked you didn’t, shhhh. It is a train driven by Javi head engineer is naturally, Walt Breslin that dutifully shepherds passenger cars of similarly precious, forlorn pobrecitos from the Narcos/Nmx franchise.

Now, to be a pobrecito, one must have:

a) sad puppy eyes b) a personal life in shambles c) a will to succeed at all costs including their sanity and at the expense of those around them d) Many Problems, not entirely of their own making but that are undoubtedly exacerbated by the their inability to reconcile their emotional natures with the toxically masculine environments they are immersed in namely The Law and/or a Life of Crime.

And let me do tell you, there are many. Actually it might be easier to list those not on this crazy train. Hmm, so btwn the 2 shows, it'd be: Steve, Kiki, Benjamin, Miguel who did try to board the train but everyone hated him so much, they threw him off the back, Pacho, Chepe, Gilberto altho Navegante does, from time to time, end up rail hopping and everyone’s always yelling at him bc he is neither Big Sad, nor does he have a ticket. Oh, and I feel like it goes without saying, none of the incredible women are on this train. No, they’re enjoying champagne on a private jet pa’ todas las pendejadas they’ve had to deal with.

But yeah, basically everyone else is there. All food groups equally represented. Just moping from passenger car to the restaurant car, chain smoking, trying to untangle themselves from the red string they’ve been pinning to their walls, or trying and failing to remember how many drinks they’ve had and if there’s enough blow on the train to make them feel sober enough to continue drinking (you know who you are…. Rafa, Ramón.) And at the head of this train of absurdity is a one Javi Peña! A light(?) in the dark, to show them the way thru Pobre-dom. Which is to say he has no guidance, no idea where he’s going, doesn’t have a license even to conduct a train, pero se fue alaverga and we out here and no one’s crashed yet so! yay?

Anyway, I’ll shut up now. Here’s the thing I made.

✧

✧

taglist: @narcolini @ashlingnarcos @cositapreciosa @purplesong1028 @mandaloria314 @artemiseamoon @thesolotomyhan @narcos-narcosmx @tinylittleobsessions @salt-is-a-terrible-currency @anunhealthydoseofangst @criatividad-e @dashavau @cherixrosa @complete-nonsequitur

[papirouge]

I've noticed something as a Christian in the US that I feel gets overlooked in the Faith outside of the Catholics and other non-Evangelical/Protestant groups. I'm relatively new so feel free to correct if I misunderstand. But I think that what the Catholics get right is helping their fellow man out and actually being there in the sense of helping people. Like, I noticed when I volunteer at local crisis pregnancy centers or participate in protests outside abortion clinics in my area that there's a lot of Catholics, and they're so warm and friendly and non-judgmental, you can tell they care. They're not heckling the girls going in or telling them they're going to Hell, they just give them love and support, and try to point out the pregnancy centers nearby. They seem to sympathize and work out of love, which is the most important theological virtue if I recall the Matthew Gospel correctly. Like Faith, Hope, and Love are the three I'm thinking of. Like, if you don't have Love you're not any better than a banging cymbal or something, I can't recall the direct quote. But in so many Evangelical congregations I've visited they're so insular or like "oh we love Jesus and our neighbor" but then are so cliquey it's just frustrating, like they're possessed not by the Holy Spirit. Like, we're here to love one another and to do God's work, why can't they get that right? Might be ranting, but any help enlightening the situation might be helpful, the Spirit seems to be pulling me toward Catholicism anyway, they actually seem to embody what Jesus taught compared to so many I've seen in the US. God Bless you and keep you friend.

Thank you 🩵

I've always said that Catholics were incredibility based when it came to social issues. Here in France a lot of catholic NGO give free food and shelter to homeless and asylum seekers. "Less judgmental" that's exactly it. They don't have the same heartless behavior as US Evangelicals who think their nationalism, "tradition" and xenophobia somehow equals Christianism.

When I was a kid had a very old catholic lady used to randomly come into my house and gave us food and clothes for my entire family - we an African immigrant family. It's only later/growing up that I realized how helpful she had been during a good chunk of my childhood. I'll never forget that. And by that I mean that regardless the stuff I say abt Catholics and their idolatrous worship and off base catechism, I still have carved in my heart a deep respect for them as a community and people. Humanly speaking I feel like I vibe more with Catholics lol (especially Catholic women)

I think that Catholic have the perk of having the pope representing them, so unllke protestant they don't feel the urge to seek for representation or validation from political parties or cultural entities. That being said, I always found funny how some Catholics seething against the pope and openly disrespected him. The spirit of rebellion of this generation is quite insane. Maybe it's me, but while I can imagine the apostles not understanding Jesus and maybe disagreeing with him in their inner self at times, I do not imagine them fool enough to openly mock and clown him like those so called modern Christians do. (this is how you blaspheme against the holy spirit btw).

But I personally wouldn't recommend you to enter any Christian sect, whether it's Catholic, protestant, Orthodoxy...Jesus came to establish THE Church, not churches. Division is from the devil, and the only division that comes from Christ is the one dividing the weat from the chaff (Matthew 3:12). There cannot be different truths cohabiting (within the weat)..and there's no truth in the chaff that ends up in the fire. Jesus is the way, THE Truth, and the Life. Not several truths.

Anon, I'm sure you get along non Christian as well, right? and we all know absolutely lovely non Christians who yet display more Christlike behavior than actual Christian. It still wouldn't come to your mind to stop being Christian just because "good people" happen to not being Christian.

I think the reasons so many Christian lose faith/their salvation is because they establish their faith based on what they see and how it makes them feel. Trust me, if I had to base my faith from what I see of it, I would've reverted after a few a few months of conversion. That's how BAD the Christian rep is right now. That's how ugly the world is and how wide satan's grip is onto this world.

I'm convinced that not even 10% of people claiming to be Christians actually have the holy spirit anyway. There are things that you cannot say, support or do while cohabiting with him. Never forget that the he left King Saul so much his sins became unbearable (which is something free gracers/one saved always saved can't explain - unless they want to admit the holy spirit has a better resistance to sin since Jesus crucifixion? 🤔). Have you even been around someone so energetically toxic you couldn't be around them? Well that's how the holy spirit feels with those people. They are insufferable. Rebellious, disrespectful (against the government, people, etc.), have no fruits...

Anyway, feel free to share you rant, anon, I love sharing inputs with like minded Christians. I recently volunteered at a Christian organization and I'm eager to talk about Jesus to people lol

[pigspeetsandhooflikefeets]

Terrible concept: I enjoy the idea of food challenges, but I don’t like the gross-out factor. The solution is obvious to create food tension, but rather than be gross, be controversial.

Wheel of Controversy. Prior to the episode, Chris and Chef outsource information to friends and family of the contestants, asking them what they know to be the weirdest food combination the contestant loves, and they are all represented by the wheel with everyone’s face on it from the finale. Every spin, everyone has to eat the combined food said person likes, including the person it highlighted. Contestants can’t vomit, pass out (obviously), OR yell at the person who caused them to eat it (even if they’re not present). Because it’s more fun to watch them squirm than fight.

First spin and someone gets the cliche “pineapple on pizza” which annoys Chris so much that he keeps the entire pizza for himself, which slowly disappears throughout the episode. The first few knock out some of the more loose cannon characters (such as Emma, Ripper, Axel, etc) who can’t hold back yelling over something minor, like ketchup on eggs. One of the parents provides an answer for something the character hasn’t eaten since they were 8 and can no longer stomach it. The wheel repeatedly lands on Zee who is completely fine with it because Zee’s parents supplied more than one, which alarms the other contestants.

The group turns to a stalemate, with about 3 contestants equally tolerating each foodstuff. For fun, Chris gives them 1 minute to yell to their heart’s content, and the more “chill” characters immediately start fighting. After the minute is up, one of the characters keeps yelling, and is eliminated.

With it down to two, they land on one of the less normal characters never landed on before, and their controversial food is medium well chicken. One of them argues the safety, while the other doesn’t mind. They both eat it, with one not stomaching it at all, while the other appears to be fine. They gain immunity, but have contracted salmonella 6 hours later at the campfire ceremony and are encouraged to leave.

[wan-jx]

Seven deadly sins----sound and noise

As a result of my research on noise and sound projects, and all the points raised in the previous post about the project idea, I have created a sound piece on the theme of "The Seven Deadly Sins". The first difficulty lies in the first part of my description. I created the seven sins in order: Lust, Gluttony, Greed, Sloth, Wrath, Envy and Pride. For each part I tried to record as many sounds as I could that were relevant or representative. For example, in "Lust" I overlayed and superimposed male and female sexual sounds, as well as tongue licking very close to the microphone. In "Gluttony" I placed a plate at the bottom, the sound of silverware clinking and falling, as well as two different types of chewing and sucking sounds, the sensation of eating meat, and the sensation of eating crisp food, such as fruits, etc. In "Greed" I recorded a large number of casino sounds. For the Greed section, I recorded a lot of casino sounds, such as gaming machines, slot machines and the sounds of gamblers winning and losing, as well as sounds related to gold coins, including arcade coin-operated machines. I found it hard to pinpoint the sounds of Sloth at first, but I personally like r&b and jazz music very much, which makes me feel relaxed, so I based this section on a saxophone jazz track, with grunts and some weak moaning and sighing sounds. The part where I say. Wrath is the more elemental part of the track, featuring the sounds of arguing and fighting, along with the sounds of angry people dropping bottles and smashing computers, as well as the atmospheric aspects of thunderstorms, lightning, torrential downpours, and gusts of wind. For the Envy section I just recorded a few whispers that were a little close and distant, but mostly like whispering in the ear, to create an all-encompassing atmosphere of being surrounded by "scumbags". The Pride section is a bit more interesting, if there's one type of music that's very uptempo it's probably the symphony, with class on top of that, that's why I chose the "Emperor's Waltz" as a backdrop, and I used three Trump speeches and interviews, which I won't go into, if you can, listen carefully. It's worth mentioning that I added every crime under each soundtrack, repeating it over and over again in a whispered-in-the-ear way, like a group of religious people leading and judging over and over again. At the end of the original sin mix is the death part, after referring to the lost river song, I used pure vocals to record, after the post-equalizer, limiting and effects to embellish the sound, so as to create a kind of whispers, growls, etc. from hell (although this kind of recording is really too harmful to the voice ……I almost lost my voice), and then I added the sound to the mix to make it more interesting. I almost lost my voice). Furthermore, while working on this piece, I came up with a completely opposite sound, the sound of a chanting bowl from the Himalayan mountains of Tibet, China. These bowls are made from seven types of metals and natural ores unique to Tibet, and are chiseled by hand. Each bowl has a unique texture and frequency of sound, and through percussion or friction, the sound vibration is transmitted to the depths of the body and mind, and is used by the local people and monks as one of the religious vessels, and also used by some monks to regulate their psychological emotions, to achieve the effect of relaxation and release of stress. Because of the existence of the sound of the chanting bowl, this work plays a kind of yin and yang to harmonize and balance each other's magnetic atmosphere, because the divine attributes are containing, purifying and overcoming them.

Chanting bowl

This is the project file timeline for audio editing

Here's all the sound material from it

Overall, this has been a very interesting and rewarding journey of thematic sound exploration, and a beginning of ideas, experiments and explorations. After this, I hope to learn more about the concepts, techniques and experimental innovations related to noise and sound, and I look forward to making more meaningful sound works.

[simphellscape]

the longest night | tenya iida

after his U.A graduation, denki kaminari decides to throw one last celebration before everyone moves on to their next big adventure. a certain uninvited guest signs himself up for his most unexpected adventure yet, and he is completely unprepared for the long night ahead.

tw: drugs, cursing

On a particularly warm evening in August, Denki Kaminari invited his classmates to his parents’ condo for a summer reunion. Sure, it hadn’t been terribly long since he’d seen them last, but even he realized the permanence of graduation and the weight it held for graduates of U.A. specifically. In the two weeks since his high school graduation, many of his friends had already begun preparing for their next big conquest: hero work. He could practically feel the ties that he’d built with all of these people starting to snap, and there was absolutely no way he would let that happen.

So, he sent a message to the group chat he shared with his pals, telling them to head over to his place at around 8:00 that evening and to spread the word. He spent the entirety of his day preparing the necessary ingredients for a successful party (with limited knowledge on the subject himself): plenty of alcohol, a smattering of weed and weed snacks, a heap of junk food, and a few card games that looked fun.

People start trickling in at around 8:15, then arrive in droves shortly after.

Now, at approximately 9:15, Denki is confident that at least half of Japan’s population has gathered in his parent’s modest condo. Satisfied, he climbs onto his most destructive party guest’s back without warning.

“Yo, what the fuck? Are you already shitfaced?” Bakugo shouts, swatting Denki.

“Shh, no, I’m not! I want to make an announcement!” he replies, slapping Bakugo’s hands away.

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“I need leverage. You’re taller than me.”

“By like two inches!”

“It’ll be five seconds, lighten up.”

Before Bakugo could protest any longer, his host had already wriggled his way onto his shoulders, and everyone was looking. Although he was notoriously hotheaded, he’d begun to understand the importance of upholding decent appearances in public.

“Oh, sweet! Everyone’s already paying attention,” Denki smiles.

“Get on with it,” Bakugo reminds him through gritted teeth.

“Right. Glad everyone could make it! Drinks and brownies,” Denki pauses to wink exaggeratedly, “are in the kitchen. I’ve got lots of cool games we can play, and Present Mic got me this sweet sound system as a grad present! So, yeah, go nuts! Just… not too nuts because this is my parent’s place.”

With that, he unceremoniously hops off of Bakugo’s shoulders. Bakugo opens his mouth to share a few choice phrases with his friend, but is quickly interrupted by a loud bang.

“I came as soon as I heard!” a familiar, but universally unwelcomed voice cries out.

One of Denki’s classmates, the only one that Denki explicitly did not invite, stands directly in the center of his living room. Immediately behind him is the front door of the Kaminari family home, hanging by a thread off of its hinges. Surrounding him, horrified teenage faces and a few spilled red solo cups.

“Man... Iida, I just said not to go too nuts! My mom’s gonna kill me!”

“Don’t fret, Kaminari! I prepared for this very circumstance!”

The man in question, Tenya Iida, drops the two cases of water nestled in each of his arms to the ground to access his backpack. From it, he pulls out two loaves of bread, a family sized box of Pepto-Bismol, an equally large bottle of ibuprofen, several pairs of identical glasses, and finally, a toolbox.

“You see, in situations like this, caution could be thrown to the side. I brought my personal set of tools, specifically for any damages that may occur!”

He sets the box down, adjusts his glasses, and sighs.

“I do apologize for my oversight, dear friend. I understood that it was urgent that I attend this gathering, as class representative.”

“Yeah, man, I guess I forgot to let you know… you’re not here to tell us all to go home though, right?” Denki clarifies.

After a brief pause, Tenya responds.

“If I’m being completely transparent, I considered it. However, I then recalled a study I came across during my recreational reading hour today that outlined the pros and cons of indulging in activities such as this in moderation. Occasional alcohol consumption is perfectly normal, as long as it’s done safely. It is my number one duty as your class representative and the pro-hero Ingenium to assure the safety of my mates, along with the citizens of the world. So, I decided to attend and uphold my duties!”

Without another word, Iida marches to the door, tool set in hand, to repair it. The buzzing of mutters settle across the room for a moment, until Denki figures out how his new surround sound system works. Quickly, everyone forgot about Tenya’s presence.

It took him approximately ten minutes to fully repair the door. With the nature of Tenya’s quirk, he became incredibly skilled with household tools at a young age. After packing his tools into his knapsack, he turns his attention back to the party.

A song in English plays over Denki’s speakers, with more than a few protanities peppered throughout. A majority of the people in the room have a very firm grasp on the English language, but Tenya has an iron grip on it. In his years of learning it, he dedicated time after school into learning some less scholastic phrases, so that he would never misspeak if chatting with a native English speaker. It ended up doing him some good, as a lot of the people in the room were mindlessly chanting along to the song without knowing the true connotations. Shaking his head, Tenya left the room to embark on a patrol of the house.

He strolled along the perimeter, keeping an ear out for any noises of physical or emotional distress. To his relief, he found the various hallways and corners completely deserted. Satisfied, he makes his way to the kitchen.

He discovers a long table filled with various goodies there: pizzas, chips, dips, brownies, cookies, and the like. It’s alluring. Tenya arrives at a crossroads. He thinks aloud, to nobody.

“Hmm… everyone else in attendance tonight is indulging in things they normally would not be. Of course, ingesting alcoholic beverages could potentially damage my engines. However, it is proven that carb-heavy foods produce an effect similar to the state of drunkenness! Perhaps I could indulge a bit too, as long as I train more rigorously in the morning.”

With that decision made, Tenya peruses the table, pondering on how long it had been since he’d broken his strict diet.

He had pizza last on the night of graduation. A handful of chips two weekends ago. It had been several years since he’d had a pastry, however. The last time he recalled having anything close to a brownie or a cookie was when his classmate, Rikido Sato, prepared a fruit pie for the first celebration his class held at their dormitory. Even then, he only had one bite.

Now, if Tenya was going to truly indulge, he wanted to make it count. He inspected both the plate of cookies and the pan of brownies very closely, wafting the smell towards his face as one would with dangerous chemicals in a laboratory. After more careful thought, he reached for the pan of brownies.

Upon the first bite, the taste of chocolate raced across his taste buds. As it spreads, Tenya can practically feel his dopamine receptors going into overdrive. Halfway through his bite, he notices an edge of something unfamiliar… almost earthy. He doesn’t dislike it; in fact, it leads him to believe that they might be better for him. Perhaps they’re gluten-free, or low-sugar. An odd choice for a party, but he’s certainly not complaining. After shoving the rest of the brownie in his mouth, he goes for another one and completely devours it. He regards the pan of brownies once more.

“Since they seem to be a healthier brownie…”

He reaches for one more with the intent to savor it. He certainly takes his time with this one, enjoying the nuances of this delicious, ambiguously healthy treat. As he is about to take his final bite, another classmate enters the kitchen.

“Hey, Iida, wha-- oh, shit.”

Tenya turns to find Kyoka Jiro standing a few feet from him, white as a sheet. An inexplicable look of horror is spread across her face.

“Hello, Jiro! Wonderful to see you.”

“What are you eating?”

“Oh, this?” Tenya asks, raising the last bite of his brownie, “I know it’s unusual to see me with junk foods, but I decided to treat myself, much like all of you are tonight!”

“That’s not a brownie.”

“I did notice that it wasn’t an exact replica of the brownies I have tasted in the past. Is there another name for this low-carb, chocolate treat?”

“No, Iida, those are edibles. How many did you eat?”

“Oh, Jiro, you have always been a jokester. Of course they’re edible! See?”

Tenya lifts the last bite to his mouth.

“No! Stop!”

He pauses and regards Kyoka, quizzically.

“What seems to be the issue?”

Jiro scrambles over to her friend, snatching the brownie from his hand and stuffing it into her own mouth.

“Okay,” she mumbles over her full mouth, “so, these brownies have been... tampered with.”

Tenya gasps.

“Who would do such a thing?”

“No, no, it was on purpose. Uh--”

With that, Katsuki barges into the kitchen with his usual gusto.

“Who’s doing all that fucking shouting?” he shouts.

For the first time in recorded history, Katsuki takes a moment to appreciate his surroundings. He notices Kyoka, swallowing hard with chocolate crumbs around her lips. He sees Iida, looking very confused with even more chocolate crumbs decorating his face. Finally, he clocks the tray of weed brownies, with a full row completely missing. He absolutely loses his mind, cackling.

“Oh, this is so fucking funny,” he wheezes.

“Alright, I understand that this is all very amusing for you two, but I am, unfortunately, out of the loop,” Tenya asserts.

“They’ve got weed in them, you idiot!” Katsuki reveals, at long last.

Tenya’s mind goes immediately, alarmingly blank. His heart starts beating impossibly fast. His palms become slick with sweat at once.

“Marijuana? That’s impossible,” he finally chokes out.

“Oh, it’s possible,” Katsuki grunts, wiping the tears from his eyes, “and you’re about to be really fucked up.”

Of all the things he expected to encounter at this party, vomit, blood, tears, even law enforcement… something so incredibly illegal was something that had never even crossed his mind. His first instinct is to feel betrayed, and then he recalls a statistic on illicit drug use that he read recently. Not anticipating recreational drugs was a huge oversight. He could be angry later, if he so chooses. Right now, however, he needs to accept accountability and prepare for the journey he is about to take.

“I understand. I know this may come as a great shock to you, but I’m uneducated on the effects of marijuana in large quantities. I assume you both have used this drug before?”

Both Katsuki and Kyoka nod; Katsuki with fervour and a scoff, Kyoka calmly and wordlessly.

“What will happen to me?”

Katsuki opens his mouth to speak, but Kyoka interrupts.

“With all due respect, Mr. Lord Explosion Murder, I’ll take this one.”

Katsuki groans and crosses his arms over his chest.

“In about twenty minutes, you’re going to start to feel a bit… looser. Your brain might feel like it’s running slower than normal. Your body might feel a bit lighter and more relaxed. You’re probably going to feel hungry -- do not eat more brownies, please -- and everything will seem a bit funny and confusing. After a while, you’re probably gonna want to find a place and sit there, because it’s probably gonna be hard to move. Honestly, I don’t know how strong the brownies are, so you might green out, might not. You probably will, though.”

“I’m sorry… ‘green out’?”

“I’m sure you know what happens when you drink too much alcohol, right?”

Tenya nods, slowly.

“The same thing can happen if you have too much pot. You pass out, you throw up, you might even forget about the whole thing if you’re lucky. You definitely won’t die, though. You’d have to have about fifteen of those pans in, like, five minutes.”

“Memory loss doesn’t seem very fortuitous to me.”

“I was being sarcastic. Listen,” Kyoka sighs, “do you want someone to bring you home, or maybe call an Uber? I know you ran over here… and you’re definitely not gonna be able to do that anytime soon.”

Tenya’s normally rigid posture becomes even more so.

“Absolutely not! I promised my classmates that I would be here to assist them, and I will fulfill that promise to the best of my abilities!”

“Okay, I’m gonna let Denki know, then.”

With that, Kyoka leaves the kitchen, a still-chuckling Katsuki following close behind. Tenya lets out a deep sigh. He’s not entirely sure that he has the facilities to undertake this endeavor. He’s not at all like Kyoka, or Katsuki, or anyone else who would partake in this drug knowingly. He’s not carefree like them. Sometimes, he wishes ‘going with the flow’ came as easily to him as it did with many of the people he knows. If it did, then maybe he wouldn’t be so scared right now.

Tenya’s been in many situations where his life was in imminent danger, but he had friends who fought along with him, and he had training to base his decisions on. In this situation, he has no idea what to expect, what to do, or how he’s gonna make it home at the end of the night -- let alone what his family would say if they heard about this.

A fuzzy sensation creeps up Tenya’s spine. His heart rate spikes again, certain that this means his journey is starting much sooner than he thought it would. He sets his brow, takes a deep, calming breath, and begins searching the Kaminari residence for a comfortable place to rest. This is, without a doubt, going to be the longest night of his young life.

a/n: i’m back(ish) and i’m posting crack lol. i could probably write the rest of this if someone wanted it. ask and you shall receive. check the tags for my picks for the naughty english song playing on the sound system hehe

[happyfanofeverything]

reading umineko chapter 3

!! we’re actually getting power dynamics between the seven sisters of purgatory. they’re very well thought out, i find this very intriguing. they’re like representations of ways people act/operate within/navigate abusive structures. all of them remind me so viscerally of people in my life and i felt so many emotions reading their provided character bios that i started typing this long thing up while in the middle of their first group dialogue:

the seven sisters of purgatory represent ways people live within abusive structures. for example, the eldest, Lucifer, who is the “leader” due only to being the eldest, and is “secretly aware that she is actually the least talented, always carrying herself with pride to hide this fact, living in terror of her sisters finding out”, reminds me of many people in my life, and also Krauss.

Leviathan, who “often confronts the eldest sister on behalf of the younger sisters”, reminds me of many people in my life... and Eva, who fiercely fights for justice when she’s made disadvantaged but doesn’t follow through to dismantle the aspects of the system she gains from, and thus makes no lasting change. Leviathan reminds me of Shion too

Satan, who acts cruel but wants to be challenged on it and feels lonely because people fear her, reminded me most immediately of that scene with Battler sexually harassing Shannon because he didn’t act with responsibility about his power over people and instead expected to be fought back against by someone in no position to not receive abuse for doing so :/

Belphegor, the fourth sister who gets by by developing skill & reliability at the tasks of service that she’s responsible for, knowing that (perhaps only) her own skills will continue to reliably serve her in the future even when she’s subjugated under a different entity, and “isn’t used to being treated with kindness”, reminds me of how a lot of people navigate capitalism and patriarchy, especially racialized transfem people. and a bit of Rena. ough

Mammon, the fifth sister, quite low in the hierarchy, who survives with “her motto to be greedy and have things all to herself” and is the most honest with her own emotions, reminds me of someone i love and also Shion

Beelzebub, the sixth sister, “always talking about food”, something all of the sisters have secure power over, “which makes her a calming influence among the sisters”... reminds me of people who socialize in this way not at the expense of literal fruit-and-veggies food, but at the expense of people subjugated/oppressed so firmly below them that their agency is never a concern. happens everywhere all the time. umineko itself makes the connection that “food” for these magic entities includes living humans too. it’s like a soothing peace among people in power that can only be maintained because they all benefit from the oppression of other living people whom they never have to treat as people. ugh. and the Ushiromiyas pull from this frequently

Asmodeus, the youngest sister, alone kept out of conversations, “fantasizing about the prince who will never come”, reminds me of Maria, surviving abuse by imagining magic rescue rather than fighting to understand reality

it’s apparent how the different ways that the sisters act all end up maintaining the uneven power structure, and how they *all* truly wish to break free of it and live as equals. wow... ryukishi does it once again

i feel like these characters are so helpful for understanding how people act around me in real life that i wish i’d read umineko sooner