#sorry to anyone expecting actual LD stuff

[so-am-smyme9540]

My sister's first impression of Lackadaisy

So I was showing my little sister Lackadaisy characters, and she came to the scientific conclusion that:

Rocky, Zib, and Wick aren't actually cats. They're wolves pretending to be cats, because they're spies.

Freckle and Viktor are tigers, but they don't have to pretend, because they're technically cats.

Serafine is apperently an artic fox, but no one cares because it's close enough, and Nico is a bear, but no one knows because they're too scared to talk to him.

Mordecai, Horatio, and Ivy are definetly normal cats. Just look at them!

• Mitzy isn't even an animal. She's just a lady wearing cat ears. But no one can say anything, because she's the Queen of Catland.

Also Horatio is the main character now, because he's her favorite.

....any of ya'll up for a new Lackadaisy AU, anyone?

[legendarynightmare-stuff]

The story of my complete decision to become an apostate.

To start things off I had better give a little bit of context. I am Mormon. Born and bred. I have been taught since out of the womb the gospel of our church. I have grown up in the church, and like every other Mormon child I went to nursery, primary, young woman's and Sunday school. Unlike many of these children though was my hatred of church. I hated being touched by strangers, I hated being forced to stand up in front of every one on fast Sunday and say words my dad had written for me. I hated church in general.

I figured I would grow out of it, because anyone who has been raised in the church knows nothing exciting happens until you turn twelve and become "important". I did in ways. I became very close friends with another Mormon girl and if we were still part of each other's lives, I would have invited her to prom this year. That's besides the point though. Anyways. That friendship helped me attend church with a better attitude. Then my family moved. The church we now attend is considered a branch. I tiny little church where me and my siblings are the only youth. It's isolating and depressing. To help us with this loneliness my parents took me and my older brother to activities and dances. Often having to drive over an hour to spend time with youth that made me feel inferior and even more lonely.

As I got older my faith has shaken. Hard. And it's been a horrific experience. I excepted that I was not straight a few summers ago and admitted tearfully to my mother that I supported the LGBT community. That's as close to telling her I have gotten. The hatred towards LGBT people made me feel isolated, confused, and frankly angry. How dare a church that preaches kindness shun so many. That wasn't the only thing though. As I mentioned before, that while I enjoyed the dances and activities I hated being around these youth that walked around like missionaries constantly and spewed scripture verses at any moment. I started to hate the culture of the church. Even my own little isolated branch where I know everyone and everyone knows me.

I've fought with myself for months as this realization washed over me, as I began to challenge the teaches burned into my mind. I learned quickly that questions should be carefully curated before being asked or you will never receive an answer. I have had to fight with the shame and fear of losing my trust in the church. It's been a battle as I hold back from shoving my opinions of the church on my younger siblings, and showing my defiance to the teachings I no longer feel are as true as said. But then a fireside happened one night and my views of the church hit an all time low.

This fireside was unlike any I had ever attended. It was a multistake fireside and everyone was excited to go, because there was going to be two apostles visiting our little unnoticeable state. Me and my sister were the only ones attending that night. The chapel was full as was the cultural Hall. Full to brimming. People were standing sitting on the floor, and on the stage. Anywhere they could. Me and my sister got seats in the very back row. The meeting wasn't all that impressionable. It was hot and crowded and I wanted to go home. Towards the end of the meeting the apostles said they would pass a microphone around for the youth to ask them questions. Most of them were questions about the apostles ministering and other church related questions. As the time was growing to an end I noticed a not sitting on the stage with his hand held high bouncing up and down to get the attention of the person holding the mic. I hoped he would get it, and wished he hadn't.

They finally noticed him and he got the mic. He stuttered as he spoke and what he said broke my heart. He talked about how he had autism and how he was bullied relentless at school. He spilled his feelings of loneliness and thoughts of hurting himself. He asked, implored, begged for relief. He pleaded for peace of how he could feel peace. I expected the same gentle replies the other youth had gotten for their questions. I expected the same calm loving guidance. Instead this man who this little boy had spilled his pain to said,

"perhaps if you were not so selfish and focussed on others instead of yourself, you would find peace."

Fury. Pure unadulterated fury poured into my veins and sizzled in my mind. I could not believe that that was all this man could give this boy before going on a speal about how service will bring you happiness. I was beyond mad. Still am. The boy left heart broken and overwhelmed. I should have gone after him but I was a stranger.

When are parents came and picked us up I screamed and cried and ranted over the boy. I was so angry, so disgusted. My parents seemed sympathetic my mom assuring me that they were just human like the rest of us. Once I was calm enough to think this excuse was enough for me. However as I think about it more the more I don't agree.

Humans make mistakes. We say dumb stuff. Do dumb stuff. But. The reaction given to the boy was completely inhuman and cold. He did nothing to comfort this hurting child, simply pushed him away with a church approved message.

I don't know why the apostle responded to the boy in this way. I took nothing spiritual away from that fireside. Only a burning desire to fight for youth like this boy to be seen, and another hole in my already crumbling foundation.

This was long. And I'm sorry for that. But if you read it all the way through if you have any questions, ask away.

I actually posted this on queerstake awhile back before a found the community I truly feel a part of. This happened last summer and I haven't be "Mormon" since then. This was cruel inhumanity, and the other youth were too enamored to see a high standing church leader that they didn't realize how disgusting this was.

This was a deadly mistake, and one that will cause damage.

Again, as usual, fuck the LDS church

[mirkstrolls]

[LOG] Riccin: Have Girl Trouble

-- @obstructedantiquity [OA] is now messaging xenophobicArchetype [XA]! -- 

OA: SISTER, SISTER, FORGIVE ME JUST COMING IN HERE AND SLINGING MY WOES DOWN ON YOUR TABLE, BUT I AM IN FUCKING need. OA: THIS AIN'T NO MEDIUM WHERE YOU CAN SEE THE STRESS IN MY FACE, SEE THE DESPAIR THREADING THROUGH EVERY INCH OF MY GODDAMN BEING, BUT LET IT BE KNOWN:   OA: GIRL'S ARE FUCKING BATSHIT, AND I JUST DON'T GET EM. OA: YOU GOT TIME FOR ADVICE?

XA: Oh um!! XA: Hi Riccin! XA: Sure I've got time -- what girL-Ls are you having troubL-Le with?

OA: BLESS YOUR HEART, GIRL, AIN'T YOU JUST A HELPER. :o) OA: JUST SOME RUST FLASHING HER FANGS OVER BULLSHIT. AGAIN. OA: OA: WHAT THE FUCK, WHY IS IT ALWAYS A RUST? >:o/

XA: =:-p Do you pick on rusts often or something? XA: --That's not heL-LpfuL-L, though! What's she "fL-Lashing her fangs" about?XA: It's not Pheres again, is it? You did say girL-Ls, right?? =:-P

OA: GODS, NO. HE'S OFF WITH HIS SPRITE, SO COULD OA: UGH, NO. OA: GIRLS. YEAH. :o1 OA: SHE'S FLASHING HER FANGS BECAUSE I MENTIONED WE KNEW EACH OTHER. PERSONALLY. OA: LIKE THAT'S SOME KIND OF GODDAMN AFFRONT.

XA: Hmmm. XA: Had she said before not to teLL-LL a certain person you knew each other XA: Or... some peopL-Le just don't L-Like the internet knowing stuff about 'em!

OA: NAH, SISTER. WOULDN'T HAVE GONE GABBING IF THAT WAS THE CASE. OR KEPT UP THE DAMN CHATTER. OA: AND I DIDN'T EVEN FUCKING SAY NOTHING, BUT THAT WE KNEW EACH OTHER. OA: AND SHE USED MY SHOWER. :o/ OA: REAL DANGEROUS KNOWLEDGE THERE.

XA: That is kind of odd! XA: Maybe she didn't L-Like that it sounded like she and you, um... knew each other? XA: Did you taL-Lk to her about this? =:-?

OA: HAD HER HALFWAY CHOKING ON HER OWN PARANOIA IN MY FUCKING BOX. OA: IF YOU WANT TO CALL THAT TALKING. OA: IUNNO. WAS I IN THE FUCKING WRONG HERE? PHERES'S FLINCHY ASS IS PERFECTLY.. WELL, HIS FLUSTER IS PLAY, THAT'S THE FUCKING thing. COY BOY BULLSHIT, TO MAKE EVERYONE KNOW HE'S A PROPER GODDAMN LOWBLOOD, ALL PRIM AND SHIT. OA: GIRL WAS ACTUALLY FUCKING MAD. OA: AND SHE SAID SHE'D COME OVER AGAIN, TOO, AND: OA: WHAT THE FUCK.

XA: She got mad and then she said she wanted to come over again?

OA: yes. OA: IT'S LIKE, I DON'T KNOW, FUCKING SIPARA ALL OVER AGAIN. HOW'S A MOTHERFUCKER SUPPOSED TO KEEP ON THE GODDAMN LEVEL IF RUSTS ARE ALWAYS FLIPPING EVERY GODDAMN WAY? OA: THOUGHT INDIGOES WERE SUPPOSED TO BE CAPRICIOUS,  NOT SOME MUDBLOODED SWILL.

XA: ...Um! What quadrant do you L-Like her in? XA: 'Cause if it's fL-Lush, maybe she got mad because of you taL-Lking about being with her 'cause she's shy? XA: But if it's pitch... she couL-Ld just be mad at you as a person and not speciaLL-LLy anything you did?

OA: mm. OA: yEAH, SEE, SISTER, THAT'S A FINE-ASS QUESTIOn.

XA: ... XA: You don't know?

OA: lOOk. OA: look. OA: i WASN'T EXPECTING TO FUCKING DATE HER, SO I JUST DIDN't. OA: uh. OA: tHINK ABOUT It. OA: aT ALl. OA: :o\

XA: XA: O--kay! XA: WeLL-LL! XA: How do you think she feeL-Ls about you?

OA: gIRL THINKS WE'RE PITCh. OA: pITCHY? PITCHISh.OA: wHICH WE AIN'T, BECAUSE I GOT GLIESe.

XA: Ooh. XA: Um... XA: Do you have GL-Liese?

OA: OA: :o/ OA: aRIGHT, MAYBE I SHOULDN'T BE ASKING FOR FUCKING ADVICe. OA: wHAT GOOD IS ADVICE WHEN YOUR ENTIRE HIVE IS BURNINg? OA: wHAT ARE WORDS WHEN YOU'RE STANDING IN THE ASHES, THE RAFTERS FALLING IN, FLAMES GETTING ALL NICE AND COZY WITH YOUR BOOTS, CHEWING THROUGH YOUR SKIN, MAKING CLADE WITH YOUR FLESH AND MUSCLE AND YOUR VERY SOUl? OA: mAYBE I OUGHT TO GIVE UP ON THIS SHIT AND VENTURE INTO THE WOODs. OA: sTART CAUTERWAULING AT THE SKY LIKE ORPHEO AFTER A BAD NIGHT OF WINe. OA: bUY A FUCKING BANJo. :o(

XA: =:-| XA: WeLL-LL that'LL-LL soL-Lve 'round about diddL-Ly squat! XA: Sitting in the woods that are aL-Lso a hive on fire that's aL-Lso a hangover isn't gonna do anything for your girL-L probL-Lems. XA: Do you want to be pitch with Miss GL-Liese? Or the other girL-L? Or neither?

OA: dIDN'T SAY IT WAS A HANGOVEr. OA: i'D FEEL BETTER IF IT WAS A HANGOVEr. OA: aT LEAST, BEFORe. :o1 OA: gLIESE, GIRl. OA: i DON'T HAVE THE SLIGHTEST FUCKING PITCH INCLINATIONS TOWARDS THIS RUSTBALl.

XA: Hm! Okay, that cL-Lears it up a L-LittL-Le! XA: L-Looks L-Like Miss RustbaLL-LL got the wrong idea, is aLL-LL. You just have to teLL-LL her you're not interested! XA: And maybe apoL-Logize for the misunderstanding, right? That's what I'd do. XA: (And aL-Lso maybe actuaLL-LLy say to Miss GL-Liese that you wanna go pitch. You gotta teLL-LL peopL-Le what you feeL-L about 'em! But that's a whoL-Le 'nother thing.)

OA: gLIESE IS BLUE, LITTLE MOUSe. OA: pRETTY SURE IT FALLS ON FUCKING HER TO MAKE WITH THE WORDs. OA: bUT YEAH, YEAh. OA: mAYBE I WILL TELL LU THAT. CAN'T HURT, YEAh? :o) OA: cLEAR IT UP PROPERLy. OA: dON'T NEED ANOTHER BATSHIT RUST TRYING TO GRAB AT MY ATTENTION, ANY FUCKING WAy.

XA: Psh! BL-Lues aren't any L-Less siLL-LLy than anyone eL-Lse when it's about crushes. It's me who asked out Jerath, you know! XA: And it can't hurt but maybe try to be more diptheric than you usuaLL-LLy are, if you're taL-Lking to her about it? Mistakes about quads L-Lead to hurt feeL-Lings reaL-L fast.

OA: aRE YOU SAYING I AM EVER ANYTHING SHORT OF BEING ABSOLUTELY DIPHTHERIC, SISTEr? :o)

XA: You can be kinda prickL-Ly!! XA: L-Like you're being right now, actuaLL-LLy! It's L-Like you're going "ooh, whatcha gonna do about it, huh? huh?" XA: OnL-Ly you do that aLL-LL the time!! =x-) @w@

OA: :o( OA: i WILL HAVE YOU KNOW I AM BEING SO SWEET, I COULD BE A GODDAMN APPLE, SISTEr. OA: tAKE A BITE AND YOU WILL ROT STRAIGHT THROUGh. OA: gET RICIN RIGHT THROUGH THE BISCUIt.

XA: Sometimes appL-Les are sour.  uwu

OA: >:o(

XA: upu

OA: yEAH, YEAH, I'LL GET MY ASS UP AND TALK TO HEr.

XA: Great! c8<

XA: That's great!

OA: :oo

XA: I think it'LL-LL make things work out a L-Lot better =:-)

OA: my. OA: i AM SURE IT FUCKING WILl. :o) OA: aND IF IT DOESN'T, I'LL KNOW WHO TO COME INFORMIN' BEFORE I ENTER MY TREE-BORN SOLITUDE, YEAh? OA: bUT NOT BEFORE THE BOOZE, PROBABLy. OA: sORRY, SISTEr. OA: c8< 

-- obstructedAntiquity [OA] is no longer messaging xenophobicArchetype [XA]! --

XA: XA: !!!!!

[braindamageforbeginners]

Intermezzo: Writing

Pre-Cycle 11

I will not be writing about my Thanksgiving, again, although I intend to once I can feel my left side (again, nothing bad happened but I’m still amazingly worn-out, which, for neurology patients, is a uniquely terrible feeling because it usually exacerbates your symptoms). However, when I come back and discuss Recent Personal Events, one thing I wanted to cover was the writing process. Or my writing process, anyway.

As usual, I tell most people that even though I might exaggerate some things or clarify details or the sequence of events, I try not to to fictionalize my experiences too much, not only because that would possibly be a disservice for anyone trying to replicate my “results” (again, for the complementary stuff, I do take CDB and a combined THC/CDB edibles for pain/chemover issues, I eat mostly fiber-based stuff, and lots of protein - usually in the form of protein supplements, but I’m not picky; make no mistake, I don’t think those will cure me, but they will enable me to survive the cure by eating, going to the gym, and those other issues that tend to promote health while not simultaneously giving the disease an edge)(also, to my LDS friends who were asking about medical marijuana, the new law says that it’s acceptable for “cachexia” - that’s the wasting that comes from final-stage cancer, by which it has so thoroughly taken over your system, it’s actually stripping you of nutrients - you want it to fight the weight-loss that comes with chemo, especially since even dear ol’ Zofran will make you too queasy to eat regularly); but also because I genuinely don’t have a good enough imagination to improve upon reality. This isn’t to say that I don’t like fiction or that it doesn’t have its place, just that, if you know how to look, you can find stuff that is way, way weirder than fiction. Case in point, my neighbor is a cop (true), owns a bloodhound (sorry, coonhound - I guess it’s bad form to mix up hunting hounds) which he uses to hunt... wild boars, not raccoons (also true). Which he makes into sausage. He also makes his own wine. When I was introduced to his dog, the line used was - and this is verbatim - “He’s named ‘Henry,’ but he prefers ‘Hank.” Let us just pause and appreciate what a glorious universe we live in where that line could be used unironically to describe a dog. All of this is true and not exaggerated - or not consciously exaggerated, anyway. Faulkner himself couldn’t imagine a character that good.

And that’s really how I was trained to write. Even though I’ve had many, many formal classes on writing, they were mostly focused on history, or science, or art/literature discussions - really, I’ve had a fair amount of training as a journalist more than a creative writer (I’m not really sure I’ve taken a creative writing class, come to it). Again, though, sometimes you can, with some research and observation, find something far more interesting than fiction. Which brings us to the main topic; a recent, hilariously bad attempt at contacting a real-life lost tribe. I normally try not to describe current (or even historical) events, but, sometimes, I just can’t help myself. So, before I go on, I will go with my usual warning that this is not a broad endorsement or condemnation of anything other than stupidity and/or incompetence (I have specific opinions that we’ll get into shortly, but, this tale does feature the world’s most disastrous missionary attempt, and that might put people on edge),

So, bit of background, We live in an era where there are almost no blank spaces left on the map. Hell, thanks to Google Earth, we have a few photos of the Area 51 terrain (again true, but it happened almost 10 years ago). However, there are a few left, like the Darien Gap (the undeveloped jungle-y area between Panama and Colombia, inhabited mostly by drug or gun-running operations), the Kibera Slums of Nairobi (by all accounts, an exceedingly dangerous place to go), parts of Beirut and the Gaza strip, and northern Pakistan. I realize it might be a bit of a stretch to cal them terra incognita, but, go ahead, try and get there and back. I’ll wait. There is also North Sentinel Island. That last one has been featured in a few Cracked articles. Now, even though I loved visiting France - and would do so again, especially if I didn’t have to do it as part of a package tour - I have, later in life, developed a much more, shall we say, spartan view of travel. This really kicked into overdrive after going to the Emerald Pool in Dominica, which I would absolutely endorse to anyone who doesn’t mind a few mosquito bites, and is largely protected because it’s way off the beaten path (if I hadn’t gone to grad school in the vicinity, I probably wouldn’t have gone). Even though I love the Met and Times Square, my most memorable stories from my week in New York a few years ago are from venturing out to Brooklyn, to find a little-known nerd bar that was Doctor Who themed (also true; it’s called The Waystation). My favorite spot in Miami was a dive bar in the middle of an upscale neighborhood (it has, sadly, since been demolished). In other words, I prefer those weird, unique places that seem to last only for a minute or two before they implode. Places like that require finding, and, in some cases, some reliable, competent guides or local fixers to get you there and back (well, not to Zeke’s in Lincoln Road, although finding a parking spot was hairy). North Sentinel Island, however, has stayed on my radar for a while, under the “NONO” file, because the minute it opens up for a nanosecond, it will vanish (it’s worth noting that, even though); also because, like traipsing through Waziristan, being the first one there is not a good idea, for reasons we’ll get into very quickly.

North Sentinel Island is home to a completely uncontacted tribe. And they (the Sentinelese) are super-murder-y. This is an island in the middle of the Indian Ocean - so it’s not like you’d bump into it on the way to Monte Carlo, so I can understand the appeal and mystique right away. The tribe in question hasn’t had contact with the outside world for... well, my sources differ, but since we’ve had records in the area, certainly. If they came over when the aboriginal tribes of Australia migrated from Asia (that’s a weird anthropological riddle unto itself, but we’ll talk about it another day), 30,000-40,000 years wouldn’t be out of the question, although, again, my data on this subject is from anthropologists and/or travel writers, which aren’t exactly “hard” sciences. That’s like “Skull Island” in Kong. Except scarier, because, what do have definitive, written records of, is a very, very hostile environment combined with the Home Owner’s Association from Hell. Literally every single account of the place involves the natives - or the terrain - killing and driving back any outside force. For all of our recorded history. The most recent recordings we have are from fishermen who go near the island, being harassed and shouted at by the inhabitants; that was twenty years ago. None of this is not an exaggeration, although that’s all from secondhand sources, at best (and I’m not going out there), and I’m trying to provide the sort of context I use to figure out if something’s interesting or not. If you’re like me, you’re getting an odd tickling sensation at the top of your spine that indicates something far more interesting than fiction is in the offing. Because no one has any real contact with the Sentinelese (well, no one’s coming forward, anyway), even though most experts think they’re related to other tribes in the chain (which may not mean much - as Maarten Troost points out, some of these islands can be such dangerous, divided places that over a dozen completely different languages were spoken on a single island), they’re also all completely susceptible to modern germs. Which is another one of life’s delightful oddities to consider that a used Kleenex might wipe out the scary natives (well, it would be more delightful if we weren’t celebrating that one time the European powers successfully used that approach to colonize the Americas and utterly decimate the locals long before most had even seen a white man). The Indian Government - who has jurisdiction over the area - has declared it off-limits to anyone without special government clearances and permission. Which I think is fine and agree with, but, I also think it’s to ensure that the Sentinelese don’t get access to boats and decide to expand the neighborhood. Again, we are talking about a people who the British Crown thought it wasn’t worth the risks to actively conquer, and we all know Queen Victoria’s life expectancy was dependent on how many countries her own occupied (okay, so that’s not true, but if you compare how long she reigned vs how many places she claimed ownership of, there’s an odd correlation). Like the other places on my list of “Don’t Ever Go There/Travel Musts,” it combines seclusion with danger, and I’d think the Indian Government might be as effective at banning travelers to it just by ignoring it and discouraging commercial activity in the area. Telling people not to go there or do something isn’t always the wisest policy, as Adam and Eve can attest. At the same time, 30000 years?! The last time they had contact with the rest of the species, we were eating Mammoths. And they’ve been actively resisting/killing everyone else for that long (okay, terminal cancer patient moment, there’s a bit of me that’s shouting.”I hope they never give in!”).

So, the second part of this drama involves organized religion. I will try not to get into my snide, militant agnostic (the older I get, the more I think it utter arrogance to claim absolute certainty - one way or another - about anything, let alone deities), but it will, at points, be somewhat unavoidable, because it’s both too amusing, and because someone claiming to represent God made something of a boo-boo that might endanger our bloodthirsty paleolithic friends there. Or, worse, give them access to boats. So, to all my religious friends, I don’t have any particular problems with your beliefs, as long as you aren’t doing anything horrible with them (like the Catholic Church and that long-running problem regarding pedophilia in the employees)(also, to all my friends who got in touch about the recent legislative/ballot measures, even though I love you all and your church, I hate to  say it, but it’s not like your church would be above the sort of greed and corruption that plagues any institution run by humans, and I’d be immediately suspicious of the stock portfolio or intentions of any authority figure who tells you how to vote), but, at the same time, historically, religion has not always been, shall we say, totally beneficial to every situation. Which is important in this context because some nitwit recently tried to make contact with the Sentinelese in order to convert them. That was his stated intention; if I were inclined to be cynical, I’d point out that visiting Skull Island would be the travel story of a lifetime, and, as a species, we are amazingly good at rationalizing selfish motives to unselfish ones; and I see lonely, desperate people in the chemo ward every Tuesday who’d probably love to talk to you about beliefs (in other words, if you’re actually serious about converting someone, there’s far more receptive and easily-accessible groups than the Lost Atlantis Colony). This is particularly important because John Chau’s method of first contact was also uniquely unsubtle, and had a depressingly predictable (albeit amusing, if you have my twisted sense of humor) outcome.

Just as I kind of have to give props to the Sentinelese for utterly committing to their way of life, I have to admit that religion has - mostly for the better - evolved with us. It’s had to - we started off painting on walls in France in the hopes it’d control aurochs, and now it’s an entity in the modern array of nation-states. In order to do that, it’s had to reign in that impulse to spread the word of God at the end of a sword, and use much more subtle techniques. Again, that sort of sentiment isn’t something you think about until you see the world’s most convoluted form of suicide in action.

And I bring this up because, when I thought about it, if I decided to visit Mega Murder Island (and I’m not sure I would, since I still have strap on an ankle brace any time I think I’m going to need to move at more than two miles an hour, and I still haven’t survived any of my other “Amazing/Awful Travel Destinations”) there might be a few ways I’d go about it, 1. Go back to school and study anthropology and/or linguistics (as needed) and become a Noted Figure in the field, and get official public permission/funding for such a project. 2. Hire a PMC or similar mercenary group to storm island and force my way into the interior at gunpoint (not recommended, this was the approach the British took in the 19th century and they still didn’t subdue the natives). 3. Make friends/contacts among similar tribes in the island chain, in the hope that one of them would offer an “in,” 4. Very quietly organize some sort of quiet, covert expedition to reconnoiter the island while avoiding the Sentinelese in hopes of parlaying that information into a better strategy later, also while staying alive.

It’s not often you get John Chau’s approach, which is to bribe local fisherman to take you within kayak-range of the shore, and read the gospel to the natives, loudly, and then, after a while, paddle back to the waiting fishermen. Let us just pause - again - and appreciate that the same way you ask for directions in Helsinki or St. Petersburg when you have a clumsy phrasebook was the chosen method of contact by a modern human to people whose customs and culture would - if the estimates are correct - completely predate the Lascaux cave paintings. Again, to put it into context, to paraphrase Dan Carlin of “Hardcore History,” it’s a little hard to understand or empathize with writers from 500 BC, because the values and beliefs of the time are so out-of-sync with modern thought. And now imagine a culture that branched off from the rest of us over ten times earlier than that. Predictably, like every other time the outside world has tried to intrude on their island, the natives killed him. I guess  the moral of the story is that Jesus won’t interfere on your behalf if ten minutes’-worth of research on a smart phone would inform you that, hey, maybe going to visit the uber-hostile cavemen isn’t a good idea. Another dream deferred, perhaps, but such is the price of remaining not-killed-by-obviously-not-friendly locals. Yes, my finding this darkly hilarious is probably callous on my part, but, at the same time, in the wake of Honnold ascending El Cap unaided, I’m thinking we, as a society, need to have a discussion about the difference between a calculated risk, and recklessness. Also, as mentioned, life is frequently weirder than fiction, and if you develop an instinct for that (and it’s very easy to do), there’s really no need to agonize over character motivation or plot. 

[haiky-u-lously]

Capability Overload

Hello world, so I have been trying to log into my AO3 account for like two weeks without any luck. And I do not want to update my Haikyuu story on here without doing it on there. So, my apologies if you were wanting this to be that. However, I did start another story when I took my hiatus...for BNHA! Here’s the first Chapter. Let me know what you think/if I should continue posting it here or wait till I get my stupid AO3 account figured out!

______________________________________________________________________________

Chapter 1

    “But Sissy, we can’t just leave everyone!” Andradite called, trailing behind  on her way towards the security line. Andy, as everyone at Sky High had taken to calling her, was not the strongest person from their school, how she made it to be the eleventh best hero in a world renowned potential hero program was a mystery to her but she tried to keep her self-demeaning thoughts and comments between herself and her sister.

    Noticing the struggle she had carrying her luggage, Aquamarine searched the crowd around her for someone with a strength quirk. She found someone within a second, ran over and apologized before placing her hand on their bare skin. As soon as she pulled it away the new power surged through her, overtaking the one she had borrowed previously. Grabbing her sister’s bags she flung them over her shoulder, while still wheeling her own. “Give it a rest, Andy. We don’t really have a say. We should be grateful that Yuuie was willing to take any of us. With how they split us up from the rest of our year, we should be even more grateful that we got to stick together.”

    Aquamarine found a group of seats to set her and her sister’s bags in and still having room to sit next to each other.

    Where Andradite stood stark still, shock completely encompassing her previously sad expression. “I..I didn’t think about that…” She drawled out, taking a seat in the gate terminal seats. Dropping her head into her hands, (h/l) (h/c) hair hiding her features as she began to tear up from her sadness. “W-we coul-ld ha-have been-n separated,” the girl proclaimed breaking out into full sobs.

    Sitting next to her, the younger twin just held the girl in a loose hug. Rubbing circles on her back as she hushed her and tracked her breathing. Steadying it before she could break out into a panic attack. “But we didn’t, did we?” While her tone took on that of a disgusted older sibling, both twins understood that it was not purposeful. Just like Aqua knew it wasn’t Andy’s fault that she was crying right now. “Besides, it’s not like we had any control as to whether the fucking school was able to stand the fuck up. Whoever that fucking villain was, I am going to find them and kill them for making you reach this point.”

    The two sisters turned and watched as planes either got ready to and took off, or arrived. Both thinking about how they felt when they found out their school was no more.

______________________________________________________________________________

Aquamarine

    Smirking at the phone in her hands, Aqua couldn’t think of how to reply to the only other person as highly ranked in her year. Their control over their abilities was so strong and they got perfectly identical scores on any written examinations.

    The exact type of person you would want to be training with at such a prestigious school.

    She had just determined how to respond when the screen lit up with the school’s picture.

    Answering the call, “Hello?”

    “Please do not hang up, this is an emergency message for all Sky High students. The school grounds no longer exist. More details are to come in the form of an email. For now, classes are cancelled and you are expected to stay in hotels rooms booked by the teachers. Please look for your assignments as soon as this call has ended. For now, we are happy to announce that the grounds were free of students. On the other hand, we ask that everyone send their thoughts to the families of Pro heroes Battleia, and Pawo. We lost two of our own when we lost the school. [pause] More information will come, be on the look out.”

    As soon as the call disconnected, Aquamarine pulled the cellular device from beside her ear.

    And proceeded to chuck it across the room she had been sitting in.

    “If only I could actually feel fucking sad about this bullshit.” Aqua mumbled to herself. Knowing that the tears of anger trailing down her cheeks were the closest to the feeling that ran her sister’s life, that she would ever get.

______________________________________________________________________________

Andradite

    The (h/l) haired girl kept the phone held in her hands, staring at the bright screen. Evident shock having overtook her features.

    If anyone asked her to, she would not have been able to read any of the words in front of her, or give any details on what was around her.

    She was in such a state that it took the bus driver ending his route, and walking directly up to her for her stupor to dissipate in the slightest. As soon as he said, “Ma’am, that’s the end of the run. Do you need me to call you a cab, or someone?” The dam broke.

    Flood of tears trailed down her cheeks out of her (e/c) orbs, and although he was confused by the outburst, the kind old man wrapped his arms around her and made an attempt at soothing comments.

    Andy normally hated this about herself. How she would be sad more often than not. Always expressing to others that she should be pitied even though half the time that was not what she even wanted. But at that moment in time, it was exactly what she wanted. The comfort of some stranger that did not know what was wrong, but was willing to give her the time to let it out.

    After all, the school of her dreams had just been lost to the depths of the ocean. Her favorite teacher had gone down with it. And now? Now, she had no idea what was going to happen to her, her sister, or the little family they had created for themselves with their classmates. She was going to get as much of it out of her system as she could...maybe she could hold her tears back around Aqua for once in her life if she did.

______________________________________________________________________________

    “Move it, Andy. We don’t got all day.” Aqua chided, lugging all of their bags. Her twin sister lagging behind on their walk to the exit. The younger twin knew a car would be waiting for them, but she was more irritated by the flight then she normally was and did not want to be amongst the general population any more. “Dammit. Hurry your ass, you’re not even carrying anything!”

    At the broken sob-like sound, she realized she should have held back at least a little.

    “I-I’m s-sorry, s-ssiss-sissy.” The older twin answered. “I-I’m t-try-trying.”

    The girl hiccuped around her words, and tears rolled down her cheeks but she didn’t stop moving. Andradite knew Aquamarine was not actually mad at her specifically, just like she knew that her sister understood she was not trying to have a break down. It’s just their side effects.

    Where most individuals had limiting factors to their powers, Andy and Aqua had the fortune of losing pieces of themselves. Even in their combined form, (y/n), the sisters lost pieces of what makes a person human. It was never discussed by the orphaned twins, but they weren’t actually sisters. (y/n) was their original form. Their parents thought they were too powerful and before he died (the reason he died) their father split his daughter into individual people, but the split was not perfect. It also split their personalities. The emotions they could feel. Aqua thought she got the short end of the stick: anger, disgust, and happiness. Andy thought the same for herself at first: sadness, fear, shock. But, Andy soon changed her tune when their mother’s true nature was revealed.

    A villain.

    An abuser who blamed two four year olds for their father’s death.

    Aqua couldn’t feel betrayed in the same way Andy did. It was obvious in the way that Andy still felt an attachment to the woman who birthed them despite everything she did, where Aqua couldn’t. It became even more obvious when Aqua used their mother’s quirk against her, killing her in the process. Then laughing about it. Claiming how happy she was to be out from under “that hag’s” thumb. From that point on Andy made a vow to watch out for her sister, to protect them from the potential-villainous emotions that would run the rest of Aqua’s life.

    “Are you the two headed to UA?” A nicely dressed individual asked the pair, pulling Andradite from her thoughts.

    “Ye--” She began, only for Aquamarine to cut her off.

    Scowling, she retaliated, “Who wants to know?”

    The lady laughed off her attitude, and the girls wondered if this was the new normal. If they should expect people to not take them seriously. Gaining control of her outburst, the light haired woman began again, “Excuse my rudeness. I’m Hado Nejire. A third year at UA whose come to take our new transfer students there.”

    Aqua let out a huff, and turned away from the cheerier person in front of them. Motioning for Andy to take control of the conversation.

    “Um, yes, right.” She mumbled. “I’m Andradite, and this is my sister Aquamarine. Aquamarine and I weren’t told a student was escorting us.” Andy made sure to say her sister’s name twice so that her quirk wouldn’t be effected for too long.

    Smiling the long bluenette nodded, “Just the two I was waiting for! And don’t worry I am sure it was just a mis-hap. UA is really good with this sort of stuff.” She clapped her hands together before a wide, eye squinting grin took her features, “Let me the first to officially welcome you to Yuuie, your hero academy!” She bowed politely, not noticing the reaction the twins gave in response.

    Both silently disagreeing with the girl’s statement, my hero academy lies at the bottom of the ocean.