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dennou-translations · 4 years ago

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Violet Evergarden: Booklet 9

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A certain man picked up a wild beast.

It was beautiful to an uncanny extent. Catastrophically foolish. Laughably ignorant and violent.

However, it was also an extremely rare kind of beast, which had attachment for people and obeyed them.

Its fur was golden. Its eyes were a limpid blue.

The beast did not know how to let out a cry, but if trained, it could probably sell for a high price.

Such was the beast that the man had picked.

The man and the beast’s encounter was a result of misfortune, as a great number of people had fallen victim to the beast’s fangs.

The beast followed the man’s back around all the time.

It was a terrifying beast, which devoured humans. He had to hurry and dispose of it somewhere.

Still, the man thought, it would probably be useful in a battlefield.

The man’s occupation was national defense. His status was of naval captain.

A ferocious beast was suitable as a guard dog, and no one would be troubled if the lonely beast lost its life somewhere.

For the man, the beast was not a desired companion, but whatever could be used should be used.

Had he not thrown it away when he was supposed to, the future would have changed drastically.

Violet Evergarden If

“Shirt – not that; the shirt.”

The soft light of dawn shone over Leiden, the capital of Leidenschaftlich. It was a fine season, in which petals of bougainvillea flowers danced about. A beautiful morning. The appearance of the city was divine as sunshine flowed down from the rifts between the clouds, like ladders for the angels. A daylight that caused people to embrace a little bit of hope toward the day called today and the long period called life – that caused such thoughts to appear – was illuminating the city.

On this wonderful day, inside the dormitory of a facility built in the vicinities of Leidenschaftlich’s Ministry of the Navy, a man had fallen into an overcast mood, in contrast with the scenery outside. Although he had woken up a mere few minutes ago, he was irritated. He was not looking at the sunlight coming from the window. Neither did he have any interest in the dancing of the gentle shadows created by the fluttering curtains.

The only thing he had his eyes on was his beast.

“It’s the shirt. You’re not doing that on purpose, are you?”

The man belonged to a privileged class. One could tell that his furnished, private room had been renovated so that its user could live in maximum comfort. Something of the sort was not permitted unless the person was from a social position fitting of it.

He hated the idea of having his own house. He also avoided returning to his home and to a smaller component of his nation, his family.

“‘Shirt’.”

“The shirt. Shirt.”

“‘Shirt’.”

“No, that’s a cufflink. Listen up; I’m gonna say it one more time.”

As he spoke, his voice was low, charming and sullen. His hair, like ink in the color of nightly darkness with a thread of blue mixed in, was long and resembled silk. His deeply carved and delicate facial features would surely be showered with attention from women if he went on a walk in the city. One could tell the fineness of his upbringing with a single glance from his noble beauty.

The man who bore such looks, Dietfried Bougainvillea, was fed up with the girl in front of him, who could not do as much as bring him a shirt. From her appearance, said girl, unshapely clad in the female officer uniform of Leidenschaftlich’s navy, was so young that she had not yet reached her mid-teens. He could be considered much too immature for making an angry face at such a child.

Dietfried grasped her tiny hand, of a size so different from his own, and made her hold onto a white shirt. “Shirt,” he said while glaring at her, as if to give her a lesson. His lips also moved slowly, so that she would understand the pronunciation.

The girl being glared at alternated between looking at the shirt she was made to grab and at her master, who was naked from the waist up. Her big eyes opened even wider as she was attempting to learn something.

Dietfried wanted to start yelling at her immediately, but somehow managed to remain in his current state, accepting her silence and that she took her time.

Eventually, the girl nodded. “‘Shirt’...”

Dietfried exhaled. He let out a breath mixed with both relief and disappointment.

“That’s right; it’s a shirt that I want.”

“This is a shirt.”

“What will you do with that shirt?”

“Captain, it is a shirt.”

“Yeah, that’s right. Just hand it over after you say that. You’re really one handful of a mongrel.”

“A shirt.”

“Enough.”

“Captain, a shirt.”

“Enough already!”

What he was doing was teaching. The girl, who could not even properly say that word, had never had any education. She was an orphan that Dietfried had taken in due to certain circumstances and did not know how to speak very well. Most likely, she was being used by someone else before Dietfried had picked her.

She was definitely a wild beast rather than a person. All she could do was murder people as per her master’s order. She was a bestial girl who was unable to do anything but that. Dietfried had the girl live in one of Leidenschaftlich’s warships, immediately putting her into action for combat should there be any battles at sea, using her as a soldier.

The reason why he was scoring exceptionally good military achievements was that he kept her by his side. As she had the appearance of an infant, she easily incited negligence. She had already displayed her power a number of times by approaching enemy warships on a boat, causing a disturbance by the moment that she was mistaken for a victim and allowed onboard, then taking advantage of it to start a naval attack. It was an inhumane work for a little girl to do.

Dietfried was aware of that. Yet he had made her do it. She had done it countless times.

He had thought she would soon die, but whenever he went to check on the bodies, she was usually the lone survivor. No matter how much he attempted to kill her, to have her killed, she did not die. Instead, she would crush the enemy ships.

“Leidenschaftlich’s Undine” was what the navy soldiers called her now.

If he could not kill her, he had no choice but make her useful. Dietfried despised this girl, who had slaughtered his underlings when they first met, but that time had now passed and was opening up anew. Making use of this girl’s life until she collapsed was also a way to mourn for those who were gone. That was how he thought it over. For that reason, in order to work her hard also as a servant, he was teaching her how to speak.

He had started doing it because of the fact that they had trouble communicating, but Dietfried did not have much talent as an educator. He had been able to climb up to the position of naval captain due to his personal achievements. He was skilled at leading and instructing people, but for lecturing a child like this one-on-one, he was terribly unfit.

“Next, the shoes. Put my shoes on for me.”

“Sho...”

“Here, look at the way my mouth moves.”

“I—am.”

“Shoes. C’mon, try saying it.”

“‘Sho-es’.”

“Say it five times. Shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes.”

“‘Shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes’.”

“All right. Now, put my shoes on me.”

“Captain, you mean ‘shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes, shoes’.”

Clearly unfit.

“Captain.”

“You trash.”

“‘Tra-sh’.”

“Hey, don’t say ‘trash’ to me.”

“What does ‘tra-sh’ mean?”

Dietfried felt like crawling onto the bed he was sitting on and lying down to sulk just like that. In fact, he did hang his head and roll onto it.

Anyone who knew him well would evaluate that, for someone like him, he was teaching her very patiently. As he was the kind of man who could do anything flawlessly by nature, his attitude towards those who could not was cold. Such a man was attempting to educate an orphan child who did not know how to talk. He was in a state where one could say that he was making an effort.

“Captain, it is morning.”

“I know... I ain’t sleeping. I’m lying face-down ‘cause I’m disappointed in you.”

“Do you have any orders for ‘You’?”

“Y’know, I do call you ‘You’, but that ain’t your name.”

“If not, ‘You’ will be on stand-by.”

Albeit good at catching on words such as “stand-by” or “order”, she was slow to absorb terms that were used in daily life. The discrepancy between the things she did and did not have interest in was evident in the results of her learning.

This wild beast of a girl actually did not need words.

Even so, Dietfried had decided to grant them to her. Going back on a decision was shameful to him. He believed that he should never do such a thing.

——I gotta at least make her evolve from wild animal to watchdog. Or else, both she and I will be in trouble.

Dietfried was striving. He was exerting himself extraordinarily.

“Enough; I’m gonna comb my hair now. Gimme the comb.”

It seemed she had properly memorized the word “comb”, as she immediately took it from the dresser that the room was already provided with and presented it to Dietfried. She observed him with her big, gemstone-like eyes as he sat up as if it were a pain and slowly began combing his lengthy hair. He smooth and deftly braided it with his long fingers, then tied it with a ribbon and it was over.

Dietfried hit the bed with a slap, directing the girl to sit next to him. “Do as I do. As long as you’re wearing that uniform, you’re my subordinate. You having a bad appearance is a problem for me.”

Accepting the comb, the girl began combing her hair as well. She was improving lately, but her hair was damaged for a while due to malnutrition, so the ends tended to entangle. When she tried to force the comb through, Dietfried apprehended her with a hand.

“This again... Stop; don’t treat your hair like that... Why do I gotta brush it every day? Today’s the day that you’re gonna get it cut,” Dietfried said while carefully unraveling the entangled hair tips in her stead.

The girl was stock-still. Dietfried did not realize that the facial expression on her profile was a little bit different from her usual deadpan.

“Captain.”

“What?”

“Should ‘you’ comb your hair as well?”

“Nah, ‘s fine. I get a bad feeling when you’re behind me.”

Whether she had understood or not, the girl closed her eyes as if holding back on something. “All right...”

In order to both replenish and repair the warship, Dietfried went on land. The stay at the port was scheduled to last up to five days. During that period, the crew would be on vacation. Most of his subordinates were roaming the city of Leiden, but those who lived close to it took full advantage of their days off to go see their families in their hometowns.

Dietfried also finally had free time today. He had to take several days to submit all sorts of greetings and reports. He made a long memo in his head with a list of the things that he had to purchase. One way or another, he was able to make time at least to go shopping in peace.

“Hey, let’s go.”

“Yes, Captain.”

Dietfried generally took action while keeping her by his side. She would be all right standing in waiting somewhere, but thoughtlessly leaving a woman alone amongst men was a primary factor for incidents to occur.

It was not as if he were worried about the girl. The ones he worried about were the people who would find the tables turning against them for attempting to lay their hands on her. In times of war, Dietfried’s decision was to avoid losing human resources as much as possible. He had to supervise this girl in order to prevent her from reducing his number of underlings.

However, there was also a good side to it. The girl’s fighting power and crisis-sensing abilities were outstandingly excellent, which qualified her for escort missions. He used to always walk around with bodyguards and associates as his ranks went up, but now, just this girl was enough.

——It’s nice that I can let more people, even if just one more, rest up by sacrificing her.

Under the light of the sun, Dietfried thought this as he watched the girl eagerly move her legs to chase after his back with tapping footsteps.

“We’re done buying these kinds of luxury items... Now for the clothes... Hey, this way. Follow me.”

“Captain, you are well-acquainted with the city.”

“That’s right. I’m ‘well-acquainted with the city’,” Dietfried gave a reply on the same level to the girl, who sometimes used words in a strange manner.

Just as he told her, Leiden was his hometown. In normal circumstances, it would be all right for him to return home as well.

“Though I don’t know if I like this city or hate it.”

But as he did not do so, one could guess about his family situation.

“You know what the good of this city is, do you?”

“I do not—know the city—very well.”

“The beauty of the architecture and the spirit of the people change depending on the city. If you leave out your emotions, Leiden’s a stunning city.”

“I do not have emotions. That means it is a stunning city to me.”

“You’ve got it wrong.”

“This is difficult.”

“You can’t understand human reasoning ‘cause you’re not human.”

“I see.”

After saying something that would hurt a little girl, he checked on her facial expression, yet it was blank as ever.

“You.”

However, he did not miss that her voice had become slightly gloomier.

“Don’t you wanna run away from me?” he whispered oppressively, stopping in his tracks and looking down at her from above.

Framing her huge eyes, the girl’s golden lashes fluttered like butterflies. She seemed surprised.

“We aren’t at sea right now. Or inside the warship. If you run off somewhere, I won’t be able to catch up. For starters, I’d have no intention to go looking for you. So if you wanna do that, you can.”

If a third party happened to hear the question, it would sound almost as if he were testing the girl. In fact, he might have been. People did such things out of foolishness every once in a while.

Dietfried absolutely did not admit it, but as he took this beast into his personal care and raised her, he began to feel that he wanted something. In return for that, he did not give her a name. If it were someone else, they would surely put it into words and display their desire with ease, but Dietfried was different. This man was awfully complicated – deeply compassionate yet cruel.

“Captain Dietfried, what am I supposed to do—by running away—from you?”

Just like that girl, he was broken somewhere.

The question made no sense to her.

“I have no meaning. If you do not use me, that is.”

This girl had no feelings.

“There is no meaning to me unless I am being used. I am a tool. I exist to be used.”

She did not know love.

“I am a wild beast. Beasts nestle up to where their owners go.”

All she wanted was validation of her own existence. Money, honor, status or anything of the sort.

“I am sure that—I was made this way—ever since I was born.”

She needed none of it. They made no sense to her.

“And you—have been registered—as my master inside me.”

The girl before his eyes looked at him as if to say, “don’t forget that I’m a beast”.

“You bring me along and use me.”

It might be that their positions were inverted from the very beginning.

“Please do stand next to me, Captain.”

Perhaps Dietfried was the one being kept around as a proof of existence.

——It’d be great if I could kill her right now.

She was merely a lonely beast, who just yearned for a master. It did not have to be Dietfried. That was what he felt she had told him.

“I’m going back.”

Dietfried started walking. Towards a direction completely opposed to the set route. In large steps, his leather boots clicking, he strode as if to leave the girl behind.

“But you still—have not bought most of the items.”

“It’s fine; I’m going back.”

“All right.”

As expected, the girl was expressionless even as her master suddenly grew displeased and yelled at her. She was accustomed to being swayed around. Not just by the man in front of her, but by her own fate as well. She had flowed, letting herself go with the current, and was now here.

It was Dietfried alone who never became accustomed to the girl.

“Walk fast.”

There was no appropriate name for the relationship of the two.

“Yes, I shall not leave your side.”

——You scum.

Why did he have to be the only one manifesting his emotions? It would be great if he could make the girl’s face distort even if just a little. This feeling surfaced and disappeared within him. It was almost the way of thinking of a child whose mother would not give him any attention, but trapped as he was in his own emotions, Dietfried did not realize this.

“Captain.”

Disturbed by rage and confusion, Dietfried angrily yelled, “What?!” in response to the girl’s call.

“There is a suspicious person running toward us from behind us. Shall I suppress them?”

“Haah?”

As he turned around, just as the girl had said, there was indeed a strange individual running their way. He had a purse under his arm. They could hear the scream of a woman at the back. If one were to take a conclusion just from looking at the situation, he was most certainly a thief.

“Don’t kill; capture him.”

To the order whispered at her in a low tone, the girl replied with a clear voice, “Understood.”

Immediately, she dashed off.

“Outta the way!”

As the man harshly shouted such aggressive words while coming at the people around him, they would open way for him in fear. The only one who pushed through the opened path was the girl.

“Brat! Move! I’m gonna kill you!”

Seeing a girl clad in a military uniform heading towards him, the man took out a pocketknife as he ran. Running while swinging it around was dangerous to no bounds. No matter how much brute strength one had, they would still waver at such a head-on challenge.

“My name is not ‘Brat’.”

However, the girl did not falter. Right before the collision, the girl lowered her posture with a jerk and evaded the pocketknife’s assault first-thing. She then grabbed one of the man’s legs and hurled herself at him. As the strength that the man had applied to the direction of his move was forcefully stopped, he violently plunged face-first into the ground.

“It is ‘You’.”

The girl’s attack did not end there. She seized the back of the agonized man, and after lifting his body as if picking a cat by its collar, she punched his throat. On top of that, she twisted his arm, completely suppressing his movements.

“P-Ple—ase—let—”

“I cannot understand the contents of your speech.”

“L-Let—g-go—pl—ea—se—”

“I cannot understand the contents of your speech.”

There was a spine-freezing kind of fearsomeness to the girl, who heartlessly repeated the same response to the man that was most likely saying, “Let go”. There was as much beauty to her appearance as there was a spur of coldness in her.

“The lecture I gave you last time about human body vitals came in handy, huh.”

“Yes.”

Dietfried came walking in a relaxed manner, looking like his moody aspect from earlier had decreased by just a little bit.

“As you told me, Captain. Strikes to the throat are effective.”

“True. Remember the name of the spots that hurt when you hit it?”

“‘Vital parts’.”

“That’s right... In men’s case in particular, there’s Adam’s apple. Look at this.” Dietfried grabbed the hair of the pitiful robber and made him raise his face. He then pointed at the other’s Adam’s apple. “Listen up. This bulgy thing is Adam’s apple.”

“‘Adam’s maple’.”

“It’s ‘Adam’s apple’.”

The robber could do nothing but watch the exchange between the two oddballs in confusion. There was no way to describe them other than “bizarre”. It could also be said that they were crazy. After all, the duo was holding a lecture about vital parts using the body of a complete stranger.

“‘Adam’s apple’. Is it... Is it a vital?”

“Yeah. It gets difficult to talk when you strike here, so hit it when you want someone to keep quiet.”

“Understood, Captain. If I want someone to keep quiet, I shall hit them there.”

“Also, you were probably going for his feet ‘cause he has a knife, but when the guy’s used to fighting, you should drop the idea. You’d get kicked like that. You might be strong but you’re light.”

“Should I dodge to the side?”

“With your jumping abilities, you could’ve also fly-kicked him. He had his hands full with the pocketknife and the bag anyway. Most people wouldn’t think you’d fly-kick them, so it can work. Either that or start attacking after throwing the stuff you’re holding at him.”

The girl nodded as if to say, “I see”. “But Captain, I am not allowed to throw your belongings.”

“That’s right. If you’d done that, I would’ve given you a beating.”

Despite making a face that denoted she had not comprehended it, the girl nodded. Those who were used to obeying tended to gulp down the double standards of others.

“Anyhow, should we return the bag to the victim? Or should we report to the military police...”

Although Dietfried was dealing with the fuss in a brisk and business-like manner, his eyes took notice of someone squeezing through the crowd that had gathered around him.

“Please let me pass,” the voice of a man echoed straight throughout the area.

“Sorry; it’s dangerous here, so let us pass,” so did the sweet voice of another man.

“Excuse me; we heard that you have caught a fugitive criminal, and we have as well. Let’s bring them to the military police togeth...”

The men who had showed up lost their voices for a second. As did Dietfried.

“Gil...”

Hair the color of night and emerald eyes. There were parts of their physical appearance that were similar to one another, yet the air about them was overwhelmingly different. However, if the two stood next to each other, one could quickly tell what they were.

“Brother...”

The one standing there was Dietfried’s little brother, Gilbert Bougainvillea.

“Uwah, it’s the Captain.”

Together with a large red-haired man, he had a thief in his hold and they were dragging him away.

——Claudia Hodgins too... Sure ran into a noisy fellow.

The joy of meeting his younger sibling surfaced, yet once he pondered about how to explain the situation and how they would respond to it, his feelings soon leaned to the side of deeming it as a bother.

Gilbert displayed agitation for an instant at the sight of his older brother, but immediately switched his gaze over to understanding the state of the surroundings. When he saw that a girl was the one pinning down the assumed robber all by herself, the look in his eyes changed.

“Hodgins.”

“Aah, it’s okay. I can hold him on my own. You take care of that girl...”

Gilbert handed the man that they had under restraint over to the one named Hodgins, heading to the girl’s side and kneeling down with one knee. He then said, locking his gaze with hers, “Let’s switch; are you hurt?” Before earning her consent, Gilbert took the man’s restraining upon himself. “Any injuries?” he asked again as the girl did not answer.

The girl looked at Dietfried. “Captain is unharmed,” she reported her master’s condition, not thinking that she was being questioned about her own.

“No, I’m asking about you.”

The girl looked at Dietfried, then at Gilbert. She moved her neck left and right countless times, at loss. “Whether I am injured or not is not an issue. That question is inappropriate.”

As Dietfried heard this sentence, the area around his chest suddenly became heavy.

“What are you saying...? This is about your body. Your family would be sad if you were wounded, wouldn’t they?”

After all, he had not never asked her the question “Are you hurt?”.

“I do not have a ‘family’.”

Not even once until now.

Gilbert looked at Dietfried. Dietfried also looked at Gilbert. For a moment, the two brothers rejected what the other wanted to say with their eyes. An air that could be deemed as hazardous started drifting there.

Although Gilbert had been speaking to the girl in a soft tone until just a while ago, the warmth of his voice took a brusque nosedive, “Brother, we should contact the military police first of all.”

“Then, I will call them.”

“That’s fine; you stay here. Brother, you’re the most empty-handed of us. We can count on you, right?”

“I’m holding shopping bags.”

“Brother... I’ll get angry for real...”

Ultimately, Dietfried yielded, out of fear towards his little brother’s wrath. The two thieves were swiftly taken to the military police, and so the three men and one girl who had seized them left the scene as if fleeing from a turmoil.

The course of events after that was, simply put, a spectacular sibling fight.

Gilbert was enraged at his older brother for making a little girl into a combatant and using her as a slave, while Dietfried desperately tried to refute him through the fact that she was not a “girl” to begin with. Stuck between them and unable to endure staying there any longer, Hodgins had attempted to take the girl away from the spot of their argument, yet she would not leave Dietfried’s side. In the end, they did not manage to keep the discussion together, parting ways with the decision to set up a proper place to talk on a later date.

While returning to the dormitory and even after arriving, Dietfried stayed quiet, not uttering a single word. It was already late into the night.

“Captain.”

Silence.

“What will you have for today’s dinner? I can take a seat in the cafeteria for you.”

“Don’t need it.”

“Understood.”

Dietfried’s irritation amplified even further with the fact that the girl, who was the point at issue, was conducting herself by operating in the same manner as usual.

“I don’t wanna look at your face. Go back to your room.”

“Understood.”

Once she left his bedroom, Dietfried had an abrupt realization. The girl would not go to the cafeteria unless he ordered. Since he had forgotten to tell her to do so, there was a possibility that she would not eat.

——I have to tell her.

However, a feeling surged within him, asking why he had to look after her to that extent. Whenever that girl was around, no matter what, he would end up restricting himself.

Rage welled up within Dietfried yet again as he recalled everything that Gilbert had told him.

“Brother, you’re a horrible person.”

——No, it’s not just me. She is, too.

“Don’t you feel sorry for that child?”

——You’re wrong; that’s not it. It’s not like that. You don’t get it.

“She’s still so little.”

——She’s a little murderer. An assassin who killed my comrades and kills my enemies.

Just which of them was the one in captivity?

——Who made a mess out of my life.

Wishing to become free, he had thrown everything away. Even if he were to receive criticism, he had run away from it all, not paying it any mind. That was Dietfried Bougainvillea.

——Even though I was free.

He had thrown away his home.

——Even though I was free.

He had thrown away his family.

——Even though I was free.

He had thrown away his brother.

——Even though I was free.

And then, he threw away even kindness, becoming a blade drawn out of its stealth and surviving in severity. He had been doing his best. Had been suffering.

Still, because of just one girl, everything was unstable now.

Dietfried moved his body with a sudden motion. He stood up from his bed and put on a coat. Opening the door of the room next to his, he made the girl dress up in as many layers as possible and took her outside.

Where were they going in the dead of night? The girl asked what their destination was, yet he did not answer. They walked, walked and walked, then hopped onto a carriage.

The carriage moved with clicks and clacks. The Moon could be seen chasing them all the while from the window.

Once they eventually reached a place much too far from the dormitory facilities, she could see a mansion that one would not call an ordinary home. One could assume that the surrounding plots of plentiful nature were also part of the estate, which was Dietfried’s former residence as well.

The mansion was property of the Bougainvillea family. This was a portion of it. The main house was located somewhere else.

The sky was already beginning to pale, about to welcome the break of dawn. Again, a beautiful morning was going to start in Leidenschaftlich.

They had been traveling for a whole night and his body was aching. His condition was at its worst due to lack of sleep. However, Dietfried let out a relieved breath as they reached the mansion at last. Currently enlisted in the army, Gilbert had told him that he was in Leiden for a temporary stop. If so, in order to avoid an earful from their mother, he should be staying in their villa.

Right now, Gilbert was in there. His little brother, who – unlike Dietfried – had the shape of everything that their parents deemed a person must have, was there.

“Listen up: go inside that house. And then call Gilbert.”

His respectable younger sibling, whose emotions were not overly warped, was there.

“Tell him I kicked you out. If you do that, he’ll treat you right. You gotta show him how tired you are. No matter what, be sure to ask him to make you into an army officer.”

That was a sparkle in Dietfried’s life of complete darkness.

“There’s no way that someone like you could manage living a normal life at this point. Serve the military, and then die.”

The fact that he existed and was a relative with whom Dietfried shared the same blood was, to the latter, hope.

“He’ll protect you for sure.”

He was hope. He was light.

“I...”

No matter how broken he was, Dietfried could believe that he had one normal something. This had always granted him courage.

“You...”

He was aware that he was doing wrong as a person.

“You and I can’t be together.”

He knew he was the kind of human being who could not change, regardless of being in the wrong. That was why he loved his virtuous younger brother as if it were a necessity. He loved him even now.

Gilbert would never betray Dietfried. After all, he also loved his older brother.

The girl’s usual expressionlessness slowly crumbled. She repeatedly opened and closed her mouth, attempting to say something. However, probably unable to find the right words, she looked at the Bougainvillea mansion and shook her head like a child throwing a tantrum in refusal.

“Go; just go.”

“I—do not—want to.”

“Don’t talk back. I don’t need you. Go be used by a different owner.”

“I—do not—want to... I do not want to...”

“I’m telling you I don’t need you! Hurry and go!”

The girl tried to grasp Dietfried’s arm. Yet Dietfried began walking away before she could do so. He just uncaringly headed to the carriage that was parked a little far from the residence’s front gate.

“Captain.”

The girl was coming after him. Her voice was loaded with feelings of desperation.

——What’s up with you?

“Captain, Captain—”

——Even though you usually have no emotions.

“Captain, I do not—want this! Captain! Please give me—an order!”

——Even though you only think of me as a tool to receive orders.

“Captain! Captain! I will—properly learn—how to read!”

——Could’ve been anyone, right? Even if it weren’t me, anyone should do for you.

“Plea—se! Captain—I do not—want this, Captain!”

——Even if it weren’t me, you would...

“Captain... Captain... I will—do anything, Captain... Captain...”

——Even if it weren’t me, you would’ve been okay with it. Isn’t that it?

Dietfried turned around to check if her voice had died down. The same old girl was not there. Her wild beast figure from their first encounter had disappeared as well.

“Please, do not leave me—on my own...”

The one standing there was the infant that Dietfried had taught how to speak.

Dietfried looked at the child in front of him as if he had grown senile. She was crying. That beast of a girl, who did not cry no matter how many wounds she earned, was weeping. And also appealing to him with the things that she could do.

“I can fight; I can also—carry your belongings; and—put your—shirt on—for you.”

She was desperately bringing up what she could do to prove her existence.

“My wounds—heal quickly as well; I can—kill your enemies too; I will do anything.”

How could she assert her being?

“Please let me... Captain...”

What could she do to stay by Dietfried Bougainvillea’s side? She was attempting to certify her existence. In reality, Dietfried had misjudged her.

The girl had properly ascertained who her lord was.

If it could have been anyone else, there were several people other than him. Yet he was the one she had chased after. The wild beast had instinctively sensed and pursued him.

She had followed him while embracing the wish that, if it was a human like him, an adult like him, then surely...

“I can—be used; I can become—an optimal tool.”

...he would not leave her.

Had he not bestowed her with words and used her as a mere tool, she would never have said such a thing. Dietfried had failed.

Combing her hair and patiently teaching her about daily lifestyle had done no good. Neither had the fact that he taught her what to do and how to fight whenever she encountered difficulties while by herself. None of it had done any good.

Even without Dietfried Bougainvillea himself realizing it...

“Please, let me be—by your side.”

...the wild beast was turning into a person.

The complete darkness of the night was gradually fading. From the direction of the Bougainvillea mansion, a servant and Gilbert – the master of the house – appeared, having come upon overhearing the angry yelling. They stared at the duo with surprise.

Dietfried slowly changed his course. He turned to the crying child. One step after another, he moved toward the girl.

“Do you need me?”

He then reached out his hands, holding her small body in his arms.

“Yes.”

With an awkwardness similar to holding an animal for the first time, he supported her from the back.

“Even if I say I don’t need you, do you need me?”

In doing that, the two looked like one.

“Yes; please, do not leave me alone.”

They looked like a single living being, formed through a combination of distorted shapes.

“I see.”

Dietfried felt that the dark things squirming inside his chest until now were clearing up. His feelings for her, which were close to hatred, dimmed away as well. Same for the anger towards himself and his inferiority complex regarding the rest of the world. Illuminated by the gentle sunlight, they all faded and disappeared, just like the deep dark colors of the night.

——I see; so I wanted something like this, Dietfried thought vacantly while embracing the child that clung to him.

He felt like he understood why he was always so irritated at this girl. Just as she wanted to prove herself, he also wanted others to accept him.

Socially, he was acknowledged. He also had subordinates who idolized him. However, Dietfried...

——I wanted this.

...wanted that wild beast to acknowledge. To acknowledge him.

The times when he truly thought that he wanted to kill her had passed. So had the times when he wanted to push her onto someone else. And the times in which he tried to use her solely as a tool until she collapsed, just like a slave, were passing as well. They were now morphing into wondering about what he could do to make her last, to have her live.

They were properly changing towards the direction of the light.

“Then, be by my side.”

That was why he wanted to acknowledge as well. No matter how distorted a shape they had.

The child and man then welcomed the first morning in which they acknowledged each other.

Afterwards, a mansion was erected in the outskirts of Leidenschaftlich.

Built once the Continental War ended, after the cessation of hostilities was finally called on, said mansion was home to a somewhat eccentric family. A man and a girl. Far apart in age, the two of them did not seem to get along well, yet did not show any signs that they would separate from each other.

“Captain, it is morning.”

As threads of golden hair cascaded smoothly in front of him like canopy curtains, Dietfried rubbed his sticky eyelids and opened them. At first, what he could see were exquisite blue eyes and cherry-colored lips. This individual, already clad in a naval uniform, bore features that anyone would call beautiful.

Dietfried regretted unintentionally thinking that she was beautiful first-thing in the morning.

“Captain, it is morning,” her voice echoed softly in his ears.

“Shut up... I know.” He sat up, yawning.

The girl began forcefully undressing Dietfried, whose gestures looked a little childish no matter what he did, without the slightest sign of embarrassment. “You have a dinner meeting today after work. I will not take part in it, but I have arranged a carriage for your return, so please give your name when you go to the assembly hall of the dinner meeting.”

“Got it.”

Letting her do as she pleased, Dietfried was having his clothes changed from sleeping garments to his uniform.

“You stayed up late yesterday night, right? There are dark circles under your eyes.”

“You’re real noisy lately... Most of it is Gil’s influence, ain’t it... You can’t go today ‘cause you got some business with him?” Seeing her movements halt completely when she was buttoning him up, Dietfried snorted. “So easy to read. You into him?”

“No.”

The duo’s conversation was a daily life scene that had happened countless times already. It was by no means anything special.

“Even if you aren’t, I don’t know about him.”

“No, it is nothing of the...”

“You two gonna see each other alone?”

“Mr. Hodgins is also coming.”

“Even if you hook up with him, I ain’t letting go of you. Work for me on commute.”

“Of course.”

“Hn, now comb my hair.”

“Yes.”

“The ribbon will be... navy blue.”

“Yes.”

Dietfried looked at the girl. She had grown up considerably. Back when they had first met, her height was about enough to reach his waist or so.

——But nowadays, she seems to be kinda intimate with Gilbert.

Although she was working flawlessly as his secretary every day, the feeling that she was being conquered lately was undeniable. That was certainly fulfilling for her, but to Dietfried, it was a tad unamusing.

“You say ‘yes’ but you’re gonna throw me away one day, aren’t you?”

A line that did not feel like him accidentally came out, and once it did so, he could not take it back. As Dietfried stayed quiet, the girl tilted her head.

“It is you who are in the position of throwing me away.”

“As if I can do that at this point; you’re mine.”

Silence.

“Aah, I don’t wanna go to work anymore... I feel awful; everything is so annoying...”

“Lord Dietfried.”

“What? You’re so noisy.”

Disgruntled, Dietfried collapsed onto his bed. After staring at him for a moment, the girl eventually imitated it, collapsing onto the bed and coming close to him.

“You gonna sleep too?”

“I am your asset, after all. I live, die, lie down and sleep together with you.”

“So you’ve come to say that.”

She completely had him on the palm of her hand.

Although he had several complaints about it, he also felt comfort from the nature of this relationship already.

Even now, he had never clearly put into words and explicitly stated his feelings towards her.

“One day... you will...”

“I shall serve you forever.”

“You say that, but one day...”

“I shall serve you. For as long as you do abandon me.”

“I said I ain’t gonna throw you away, didn’t I?”

“You tried once.”

“Y’know, that was a one-time flight response from when I was having a hard time rearing a kid. Raising you was a hassle.”

“I am grateful for it. I shall serve you for life.”

Dietfried was no longer his past self. He had become just a man that could not let go of this girl, who was the proof of his existence.

That was why Dietfried reached out his hand. As if to rule over her; as if to make her not forget about him, her lord.

He called her name, which he himself had chosen, “■■■■”

Having her cheek caressed and her name called, the girl crinkled her eyes a little. “Yes, I am by your side.”

That was a story in which the future would have changed drastically, had he not thrown her away when he was supposed to.

#violet evergarden #veedit #fyeahvioletevergarden #kyoto animation #kyoani #dietfried bougainvillea #gilbert bougainvillea #claudia hogdins #violet evergarden booklets #violet evergarden if #novel #akatsuki kana #takase akiko #my translation

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obeymeluv · 4 years ago

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The Bros and School Headcanons

I have other stuff in mind but this is something short I can put out for now.

It’s my headcanon on the types of school/college people the bros are. I guess you can consider it college AU?

Lucifer

The Type-A asshole everyone probably hates

Doesn’t originally start out that way, doesn’t mean for people to hate him. Soon LIVES for it. Seriously, it’s like his coffee.

Prideful AF. MUST be top of the class!

His motto: “Do it right, do it once.”

Runs on an insane amount of coffee and just as insane (read: little) amount of sleep

The type to remind the teacher about assignments that were due in class if it seems like they’re going to forget about it

Asks about extra credit on day one

If people ask repeat questions that were LITERALLY just answered, he gets pissy and silently suffers

Ends up a little sad and burnt out, wondering if the grade was worth skipping out on other opportunities

Says he’s not going to do it next semester, but gets addicted to that grade high

The “friends” he makes in class are usually fellow rivals and they have a hot and cold relationship that somehow works really well

When he drops the grade-chaser stuff, he’s actually really nice to be around. He has really deep, interesting conversations that are between philosophical and educational (you just have to pull his head out of his ass first)

Mammon

Some people wonder how he got into the class, some people wonder how he’s passing it

Mammon is the dude who looks like he doesn’t know about the subject but is an absolute FOUNTAIN of knowledge

Always has sunglasses on and has some kind of drink within arm’s reach. Usually a very big coffee with lots of espresso

Constant bedhead (even if he says he fixed his hair)

Tried sitting in the front row the first week, kept getting sleepy. Now sits in the back row towards the doors.

He’s either early or late. Never on time.

The one that brings a notebook and a pen to class. Nothing extra.

Usually falls asleep or cat naps. Says he learns through osmosis

This asshole is really good at auditory learning and gets by recording the lectures

Blows through exams like they’re nothing. He’s a good BS’er and gets C’s, minimum. Usually low B’s.

This guy laughs at the Type-A stresser’s and enjoys his minimum studying

Can be suckered into group studying fairly easily but most people won’t study with him because he turns study sessions into anything BUT studying

Knows people who know people. Could probably get his hands on old tests and stuff. If he can, it’ll cost you. A lot.

Levi

This poor baby has testing anxiety hella bad when it comes to subjects he’s not super interested in or that he’s already struggling in

If he likes the subject and feels confident in it, there’s no testing anxiety.

Also brings a drink to class. It’s an energy drink.

Always comes to class early and is usually in a pair of wireless headphones, browsing on his phone

A great visual learner.

His notes are written sloppily and kind of sporadically but they’re decently organized with notes in the margin and things like that

Doesn’t like asking questions out loud. Will either email the teacher, ask after class, or make a friend that isn’t afraid to ask them for him.

If he’s having a good day, he’ll try to make jokes that only make a few people laugh. It’s usually bad timing and he’s a little sad.

MUCH BETTER AT DRAGGING PEOPLE! It’s not something he thinks about. It just slips out! Before his face can overheat, he realizes people are laughing and he kind of basks in it for a while.

Has coordinated stationary; is probably animes he’s into or colors he likes

If he has a laptop, it’s absolutely smothered in stickers

The BEST guy to have a study session with. Something about being in a library or quiet area ramps up his focus and he’s like a second-hand teacher.

Very different from his in-class persona, but is often spot on with ‘If I were the teacher, I’d put this on the exam.’

Want to be friends? Comment on his merch. He’ll start a conversation if he sees a shirt/pin/bag/pencil or anything he likes. It helps if you offer Starbucks or snacks in exchange for being tutored

Satan

Takes pride in his grades but doesn’t go out of his way to make people hate him

Will casually drop his grades when asked, but won’t own up to being the top grade. Very vague (”I did okay. Just like I expected.”)

He more or less enjoys the satisfaction of seeing a good grade come back to him after all that studying

Prone to over-thinking

Probably the first one done, but he’ll do 2 or 3 look overs to check everything before turning it in

Low-key exhausts his professors with written assignments because he gives them a fucking book. It’s all technical and correct but, really, it was only supposed to be three pages!

The one that will yell at the obnoxious people interrupting lecture. Will throw things at them if they’re in reach.

Super protective of his books and class materials. Has a hoarding/scooping reflex when messy people spread out their stuff or unwrap food. The books are not to be desecrated!

If an obnoxious eater/drinker is beside him, he thinks about strangling them to the point where it distracts him from lecture

Usually reads ahead and works ahead

If he gets points off of something, he’ll want an explanation. If he feels the points were taken away unnecessarily, there will be words

If he gets too overstimulated with noises or just hits a point of being fed up, he’ll leave lecture

Rarely brings food or drink to class but can be found at the Starbucks on campus before class. Maybe after. Some days it’s both.

Best notes around. Very technical and perfectly organized. Not colorful or anything, but definitely the envy of people.

Sells his notes/study guides each semester for money

Asmo

That guy who can slide into any friend group

Socially sharp. Can tell who the most prepared are and has an instinct for who the strongest class partners will be

Makes friends with the TA’s before the professors.

Totally convinces that TA to give him hints about the upcoming exams

People either love him or hate him. Most people love him, some people hate them because they can’t be him.

Almost always has a drink and it’s rarely the same. Usually a healthy smoothie or one of the cute juice drinks from Starbucks.

The type to bring in outside food and pick at it while he listens to lecture. Tries to listen, anyways.

Really easily distracted. Gets bored with monotonous voices and HATES teachers who just read off of a powerpoint.

His notes are very colorful and aesthetic but may not be the most informative

Does his best to stay on top of assignments but usually has 2 or 3 big screw ups a semester

Somehow always gets his ass saved. Boy has good karma in stock

This is the guy that things ALWAYS seem to work out for, and they fall in his lap

Proposes cute/semi-extravagant study dates. They are rare and exclusive. Extended to a few choice people (no, it’s not to sucker anyone into giving him class notes.)

Aim’s for C’s because anything more is just a bonus. D’s and F’s are unacceptable.

Will drag a bad partner in a heartbeat. If they didn’t help in the group project, their name isn’t going on it.

Beel

Also one of the types that doesn’t look like he belongs, but he does

Is a fountain of random knowledge

Very strong memory, but not perfect. The type that needs a little push before the absolute WALL of information comes out.

Really strong test taker

Brings tons of snacks to class

Once brought a whole-ass meal to class. He ate it one-handed and took notes with the other.

The guy that somehow gets roped into favors by other people. It’s usually quick stuff and he’s good about setting boundaries to make time for himself and his studies

Want him to study with you? Mention about splitting a pizza or something.

Your hype man. Good guy to reassure you before tests if you get test anxiety

Sick and skip class? He’ll check in on you AND send copies of his notes

Doesn’t always get assignments in on time. Only late once or twice a semester. Either eats the point difference or convinces the teacher to give him an extension.

Will take you out for post-test fun errands

Belphie

Does he exist? You won’t find out until it’s time to take an exam.

Belphie does a lot of research before he signs up for a class. Would like to go 100% online but knows that isn’t realistic, so he combs teacher reviews to get nice, easygoing professors

Has a photographic memory, so all he really needs are the powerpoints and to check out reference copies of the textbooks from the libraries

Tries to take the same classes as his brothers so he can swipe the textbook for a bit

If his only option is a morning class, he DEFINITELY picks the same one as one of his bros to make sure he gets up and goes

More of a night owl

The one that’s addicted to caffeine, stays up all night, and somehow gets 7 assignments done. Has periods of intense focus then it’s back to not knowing what day it is. He just wants sleep.

Usually seen with Beel or Satan. Tends to show up at events with free food.

Loves finals week when they bring in dogs and pets.

Has wireless earbuds and is always listening to a podcast, Tedtalk, or something soothing

Catnaps through class. Even if he’s woken up from a dead sleep, he can answer whatever snarky question someone asked

Takes advantage of the meditation classes and alternative therapy walk-ins promoted by the Mental Health Clinic. He really likes guided meditation with singing bowls.

#Obey me!#Obey me! x Reader #Lucifer x Reader #Mammon x Reader #Leviathan x Reader #Satan x Reader #Beelzebub x Reader #Belphegor x Reader

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toxicradio · 4 years ago

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Pornography

I'm on a Ted Talk binge and now I have stop. It was a video talking about porn and it was from a young woman. Before I even clicked on it, I knew I would be disappointed. I still clicked and started to watch with hope. I am sad to say I had to stop a few minutes in.

Within the first few minutes, I could already find issues. The data she provided and the conclusion drawn from it was skewed.

One of the first things she talked about was a guy she interviewed who was addicted to porn and couldn't kick it because they were relapsing and they needed more agressive porn each time to get the same kick. And they were first exposed to porn at the age of 6 and the videos were so graphic it kept them up at night.

What the fuck is a 6 yo doing watching porn?

Here are my questions: why was a 6 yr old able to find porn. Was it a website? If so, how did they know where to look? Was it a magazine their friends showed them? Did an adult or older child show them? How was a 6 yo able to access (assumingly violent) porn? Where were the parents? Why are they not watching what their child does online?

I am concerned they feel they need to find the most agressive to kick it. Is this their own wording or was it fed to them? Are they stopping because of shame and trying to repress interests or is this a legitimate addiction? Why are they distressed by enjoying porn? Is it because of a feeling of shame or does the consumption affect their relationships with others, their work, or other?

Is this a genuine addiction or is this shame and guilt enforced by a very anti-sex society?

I will never know.

But these are the questions I have. And they do make a difference.

Next, she talked about how porn has become the way most people learn about sex. I agree this is not a good and healthy thing. But banning porn will not make it better. If banning porn isn't the answer, then what is? How on earth are we supposed to teach kids about sex?

By fucking talking to them. Answer their questions, tell them what it is, who should be involved. Teach then about consent and masturbation and sex acts and genetalia and genital and sexual health. Teach them about sexuality and kinks in age appropriate ways. Create a safe and open place for people to talk about and ask about and learn about sex. Get rid of the stigma and shame.

Do you want to know why porn is so "addictive"? Because our brains release oxytocin. This is a hormone that plays a role in bonding with others. It plays a role in self and social trust and bonding between couples and mother and child. It feels good and we as humans naturally want more.

This is a naturally occurring hormone and it is currently being studied to see if it can help address depression, anxiety, social stress for people with autism, and to fight addiction.

Endorphins are also released during orgasm. They are also released during laughter.

As humans, we seek pleasure and comfort. Something to trigger these hormomes.

Yes, porn and sex can both lead to a serious addiction but I feel it's time we really truly look at porn and sex outside of the biased lense. How much of this is addiction and how much of it is shame enforced by a very ant sex society.

Porn is meant to be entertaining. It is not supposed to used for education.

Next, she started taling about aggression in porn. If you have been on my blogging enough, you know this is my breaking point.

She talked about how mostly women were being slapped and degraded and how the majority of the time they smiled.

She then gave the analogy of slapping someone in real life.

But what she doesn't know or is ignoring, is that someone women like to be degraded in the bedroom. On occasion, some of us like to slap or be slapped. Some of us enjoy the aggression. It's passion.

But we don't like being slapped out of that context. Because why are we being slapped in that moment? Because then someone is taking out their anger in us. They aren't trying to pleasure us or make us feel good. They are angry and controlling.

I like when my partner degrades me during sex. When strangers call me a slut of having sex I take offense. Because they do it to insult and harm, my partner asks first and does it because it makes me happy.

Context is huge and is often left out of the conversation of porn.

Then she talked about how before the 2000s ass to mouth porn was so hard to find.

How do you know this? Where are your sources? Do you think it's because there was and still is a huge stigma around kink and bdsm and fetishes? Is it because back then the stigma around porn and sex was worse?

It wasnt unavailable.

It existed, you just needed to know how and where to look. She looked in her 30s at the oldest. Meaning she was a child in the 90s. You don't have the same access to porn that adults do. You can't go to an adult store and by specific porn. Trust me, it was available.

Porn isn't the unhealthy thing. Our relationship to porn is.

It's a secret. It's a literal guilty pleasure. It's a sin. Its shameful. It's dirty. It's not something to talk about.

That's the dangerous part.

When we create a cloud of shame around something, it becomes easy for predators to use it to their advantage. We victim blame porn actors because "its dirty sex. What did you expect? You have to be ok with this if you want a career. No one will beleive you and we will make money off your pain." Rather than openly talk about sex and porn and make it a safe work environment for men and women and those of other genders.

Progress has been made which is great! But our work is not done.

Sex is healthy. Kinks are healthy. Porn is and object. Watching porn can be healthy. Shaming this isn't healthy.

Porn is purely for pleasure. It is not for education. That responsibility relies on us. Adults need to educate each other and kids on sex and we need to actively work to remove the stigma and shame surrounding a natural, human, experience.

#bd/sm community #bd/sm lifestyle #pro kink #pro-kink #bd/sm blog #anti discourse #tw #lgbt pride #poly life #pro sex work #sex positivity

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mira-shard · 4 years ago

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Karai Miyazaki Profile

【Ｂａｓｉｃｓ】

Name: Karai Miyazaki

Age: 15

Gender: Female, she/her

Height: 173 cm

Birthday: January 4th

Blood type: A negative

◇ ◇ ◇

Nationality:

Japanese

Sexuality:

Pansexual

School:

Shujin Academy

Year:

1st year

Favourite/Least favourite class:

Favorite: P.E.

Least: Math

Grades:

Below average

Clubs:

None.

Uniform:

See drawing above. (Summer uniform)

Job:

Dirty jobs for Kaneshiro (Ex: Underground fighting rings)

◇ ◇ ◇

【Ａｐｐｅｒａｎｃｅ】

Physhical Health:

Very fit, lean build.

Mental Health:

Karai suffers from the Alice in Wonderland Syndrome. It's a mental illness in which children have seizures in which they see objects in the environment distorted (for example, enlarged or reduced) when in reality this is not the case. These seizures often come paired with a panic attack, depending on how long the seizure lasts.

◇ ◇ ◇

Postive traits:

Hard-working:

Karai works very hard on a day to day basis. At least, when it comes to her interests.

Adventurous:

She would never hesitate to throw her entire schedule upside down if it means she could go down into mementos with her friends.

Sharp:

In a fight, you only have a split second to try and guess what your opponent is doing and how to best disarm them or make them unable to continue. Having loads of experience in that department, Karai is very sensitive to small movements and can quickly counter.

Neutral traits:

Simple-minded:

Karai has a one way track mind. She's merely here for the fun. Eventually, she does feel a sense of loyalty towards the rest of the Phantom thieves, and their safety becomes a higher priority than her getting the fight she wants.

Withdrawn:

Outside of a fight, she much prefers to stay on the sideline. During hideout meetings, she rarely speaks up, much preferring to hang in the back and listen to everyone else.

Negative traits:

Narrowminded and judgemental:

Karai is quick to have her judgment about things and can rarely be persuaded to think differently about something or someone.

Distrusting:

Considering how many adults have tried to take advantage of her or humiliated her, she's extremely distrusting and rebellious around adults. She doesn't care much for most people her own age either.

Desires:

Freedom of Kaneshiro, a place to be herself, not to be shunned by society simply cause she enjoys a good fight.

Fears:

Losing her freedom, snakes, childbirth. (The last one might seem silly, but she's been fed terrible stories about how much it hurts and often hears young women crying while dropping their children at the orphanage cause of their regret and the pain, which is where her fear comes from.)

Hobbies:

Fighting, fiddling with stuff (A habit from when she's nervous), singing, people watching.

Talents:

Aside from physical activities, she's surprisingly good at biology and medical care.

◇ ◇ ◇

【 C o g n i t i o n 】

Arcana:

Queen of Swords

Affilation:

The Phantom Thieves

Code name:

TBR (To be Revealed :3 )

Phantom thief outfit:

TBR

Melee:

Scythe

Gun:

Automatic rifle

Persona:

Artemis

Awakening:

To be written by myself later on :3

Thoughts:

Unlike the other Phantom Thieves, she became a Persona user for a more selfish reason. Karai enjoys the thrill of fighting, especially when it's a challenge. And getting to fight and explore either Mementos or a palace on an almost daily basis is like a dream come true for her.

◇ ◇ ◇

【 F a m i l y 】

Mother:

Unknown.

Father:

Unknown.

Guardian:

Munehisa Iwai (Eventually)

Siblings:

Kaoru Iwai (Not blood related, after Kaoru got used to having her hang around, he started calling her nee-chan in the hope it'd get her to open up to them more.)

Significant Other:

TBD

Best friend:

Haru Okumura

Thoughts:

At first, Karai was appalled at the thought of being taken care of by Iwai, assuming he'd either be a moron or someone who would try to restrict her freedom. When it turned out to be the case that Iwai was neither, she slightly opened up to the idea of having an adult around that she could trust. Her self proclaimed new brother, Kaoru, got on her nerves at first. But after the two of them had an honest conversation about why Karai enjoys getting into fights, she started to warm up to him.

【 B a c k s t o r y 】

Growing up in a strict orphanage, Karai chased things that excited her. In a building where everything is about order and strictness, Karai desperately searched for something to get her blood pumping. When she just started middle school, some suspicious-looking people caught her attention and she ended up following them, wondering what the hell they were up to.

That's the first time she saw an underground fighting ring and she immediately fell in love. Through the years, she started working out daily, hoping to one day be able to compete herself. But because of that, she got looked down upon in the orphanage and the guardian in charge of the children tried to correct her and undo her love of fighting by punishments.

At the age of thirteen, Karai ran away from the orphanage. She started earning her money through fighting and truly enjoyed life, but it wasn't enough for her to take care of herself properly. She lived on stale and stolen food for months before she heard a certain man was interested in her unmistakable joy in fighting, even when the odds were stacked against her.

With no other options, Karai agreed to fight for his entertainment and to fight some of his rivals, quickly climbing up in the ranks of Kaneshiro's business. She despised how she had to give up a huge part of her freedom in return for a roof over her head and proper education (Something Kaneshiro insisted on cause he didn't want his best fighter to be "an ignorant pig he has to talk dumb to") and she did not at all approve of Kaneshiro's dirty, perverted business. But until the Phantom Thieves came along, she knew better than to try to bite the hand that feeds her.

#Karai Miyazaki #Persona 5 royal oc template #persona 5 #p5r #p5 Royal #Phantom thief oc

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drewyth · 4 years ago

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Black Lives Matter

I just want to make it unequivocally clear that I support the Black Lives Matter Movement. Yes, that includes the riots. Riots are a legitimate form of protest that happen when peaceful voices go ignored. America was built on violent protest, and property can always be replaced - Black lives cannot. I don't mean to glorify violence. I don't like violence. Most people don't. But before you pass judgement, it's important to remember two things: First, we've tried protesting peacefully. We kneeled, and the president called us "sons of bitches." Our concerns were not addressed. We marched quietly, holding homemade signs and calling for justice. The police showed up in riot gear to force us home. Our voices were ignored.

Second, don't forget that, in many cases, it is the police and white supremacists that are inciting violence at these demonstrations. The protests start peaceful. It is the police that escalate the situation, so they will be allowed to use force on the protesters. There is photographic and video evidence of this happening. Look outside your major news sources. Black protesters are not trying to start a race war, they're trying to end one that's been waging for centuries. And bad people are taking advantage of that. If there is violence, try shifting the blame off of the protesters and onto the corrupt police who have been murdering people without consequence. The police started the violence, and now the responsibility falls on them to listen if they want it to end.

I find it incredibly disheartening that people are so quick to call our protesters "thugs," yet they get defensive when we critique the criminal (in)justice system by saying "All Cops Are Bastards." If these violent demonstrators are "invalidating their cause" by showing aggression, how have cops not invalidated their entire profession with the amount of people they've killed? Yes, I'm aware that White people are killed too. If anything, that should just create more solidarity against the police system as it stands now. Even so, Black people are killed disproportionately compared to how much of the population they make up.

In 2017, White people made up 63% of the population, and only 48% of killings by police. That's still a lot. That's still unacceptable. But the point is, if this didn't have anything to do with race, White people would make up 63% of police killings - The same percentage that they take up in the population. By contrast, Black people made up only 13% of the population, but accounted for 27% of killings by police. That percent is more than DOUBLE the percent of the Black population. And if you say it's because they commit more crimes, again, you're misdirecting the blame. Police arrest more Black people, certainly. They are on record as committing more crimes. But that's because the police target people of color while excusing White people who commit the same offenses. Black people also face greater charges than White people when committing the same crimes. No matter how uncomfortable it may be to discuss, racism is at work here. Police ASSUME that Black people commit more crime, so they're more likely to profile and arrest Black folks, which perpetuates the illusion that Black people commit more crime, and the cycle continues.

Another thing: If Black people do commit more crimes in some places, perhaps we should examine why that is. Qualified Black people are hired at high-paying positions at lower rates than White people. Black people have historically been forced into poor living communities; in many places, property values actually drop when Black families move in. You say slavery isn't relevant anymore, but its repulsive legacy lives on through racism. Racism has kept Black communities poor and created barriers for Black people trying to move up the social and economic ladder. So yes, White people are killed. But Black people are killed for being Black.

Saying "All Cops Are Bastards" doesn't mean there aren't some cops out there who happen to be good people. And if this is a hard concept to wrap your head around, it's because you - like most of us - have been lied to about the purpose of the police. The police were originally created to punish runaway slaves, and the laws they enforce continue to target people of color to this day. I would recommend the documentary "13th" on Netflix for more information on this. No cop can be good because they have chosen to put on a badge and work for a system that, by design, is tainted. It's okay to support what the justice system should be while still critiquing what currently needs to be fixed. And a lot needs to be fixed.

If you grew up poor, or black, or female, or mentally ill, or LGBTQ, you might have dismantled the myth early on that the cops are there to protect everybody. The fact is, many communities need to protect themselves because cops are just as likely to hurt them as any other criminal. How can we excuse trained professionals for shooting innocent people when they get a little nervous, but we expect untrained civilians to stay calm when guns, and tear gas, and batons end up in their faces? That is why we need to defund the police, who use excessive force to arbitrarily enforce discriminatory laws. Instead, we should start funding community initiatives that get to the roots of most crime before it happens, and get perpetrators help and reform instead of punishment. If you still hate the violent protesters, but support the violent police force, the reason is a matter of race-driven hypocrisy. We must unlearn so much of the nationalistic, pro-military propaganda we've been fed throughout our lives. America is its people, and its people are dying. America is being killed by a corrupt system that only pretends to protect it.

Black Lives Matter. There's no need to refute this by saying, "Well, ALL lives matter." All lives cannot matter until Black lives finally matter too. No one's saying Black lives matter more than White lives, or more than YOUR life. Just. Black Lives Matter. The only appropriate response to that is, "Yes. They do." If your friend falls and scrapes open their knee, you're not going to give everyone else a bandage before getting to them because "all lives matter." You're going to pay attention to your friend who is bleeding. The same applies here. We cannot give attention to "all lives" without first focusing on the ones that are hurting the most.

I will be taking a class next month on "Radicalism and Protest in Post-War U.S." If anyone is curious about America's history of change through violent protest (like the Women's Suffrage Movement, the Stonewall Riots, the Civil Rights Movement which we're still fighting, etc.), I encourage you to talk to me in August. Or we can discuss what I know now with my Sociology and Psychology degrees, and my subplan in Law, Justice, and Social Change. There will never be a "right" way to protest in the eyes of the system you're protesting against. Historically, progress only comes through force. Our fighting is effective.

Here is a link full of resources for donating, protesting, and educating. I know most of us don't have a lot to give right now (I certainly don't) but I've donated what I can and I hope you guys will do the same. Every little bit adds up. Most of all, I want us to take this time to spread awareness and open our ears, hearts, and minds to the Black voices that matter most right now. Every one of us can join this fight. Every one of us must. There is always a way to contribute to a just cause, whether it be through protests, donations, or simply by listening and showing support. I'm going to continue to do my part, and I urge every one of you reading this to do the same. Black Lives Matter.

#black lives matter #blm

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florenceandthemachine · 5 years ago

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i need u to talk to me about stiles and jackson and their baby girl. i need u to talk to me about how they name her claudia and how they spoil the actual everloving shit out of her and how all the single moms at the supermarket lose their entire minds when they see jackson walking around with her strapped to his chest and how stiles absolutely cannot blame them because his man is literally the world’s biggest dilf. i need u to talk to me about happy domestic stackson thank u and goodnight.

Honestly boo, I told you I had to prepare for this and sit down at a computer and I accidentally wrote a novel. But I had to, because here’s the thing.

Nothing in Stiles and Jackson’s life has ever been easy.

Stiles would start recounting the happiest moments in his life by talking about the time he almost died in high school (he remembers it fondly). Not because he’s fond of the fact that he almost died, but because while he was lying on Deatons table, bleeding out, pixie claws still dug too deeply into his chest, Jackson kissed him for the first time. Jackson was crying, and he was crying, and Jackson was begging him to stay alive, and Stiles, honestly, could have died a happy man right then and there with Jackson kissing him.

He and Jackson get married, less than a year after Stiles graduates with his masters in mythology and Jackson finishes an associates degree in Criminal Justice. Stiles gets a part time job in a local library, and Jackson starts work as his dads newest officer, and Stiles never lets him forget how good the uniform looks on him; and, he thinks as he looks over Jackson, writhing beneath him, cuffed to the headboard, it looks even better off of him.

(The wedding is a small ceremony, with the pack and Stiles’ dad there. Stiles cries the entire time. Jackson only makes fun of him a little. When the justice of the peace asks if they’ll be hyphenating their last names, Jackson snorts and takes Stiles hand and “no, absolutely not. I’ve been waiting my entire life to be a Stilinski.” Stiles cries again. Jackson just beams at him, the asshole.

[Later that night, Lydia almost passes out when a group of rouge banshees breech their territory, screeching like… well, banshees. It happens during their wedding reception, of course, because as previously stated, nothing in Stiles and Jackson’s life has ever been easy.])

They live together. They love each other. They love the pack. They still do things like patrols, once in a while, and of course it’s during a patrol that their life flips again.

They’ve only been back in town for a week after taking some time off for their wedding anniversary when they come across a woman on the side of the road. Jackson is still in full uniform and swoops in (Stiles swoons, he can admit it) to help the very dirty, very young woman, and her very small, very loud, very much a newborn, infant. The woman is crying, talking about how she didn’t mean for this to happen, she doesn’t know what to do, and the baby is crying because it’s a baby. Stiles is out of the car right behind Jackson, jacket in arms, ready to help warm the baby up.

In hindsight, he probably should have realized something was up when the woman seemed all too eager to let Stiles take the child from her. Because in less than three seconds, when Jackson and he are both focused on the baby, the woman is gone.

Whelp.

Jackson takes to caring for a child immediately. While Stiles is meeting with a social worker and loading a bassinet into the Jeep, Jackson bounces her in his arms—god, she couldn’t be more than three months old—and Stiles has to stop himself from looking, worried he might start to want something he can’t have. High school Stiles would have been shocked by the sight, but older, wiser Stiles knows that Jackson is one of the most caring, warm people on the planet, just beneath a crunchy exterior. Stiles loves him for it, so much, but watching the two of them interact makes his bones ache. The social worker assures him it will be temporary. Two weeks at the most, before they’re able to find some blood relation.

Two weeks turns into three, and three turns into five, and soon Stiles has worked their routine around a child that they just call “baby” because they have no right to name it (“and besides, Jacks, it’s not like she’ll remember any of this anyway”).

Stiles is glad, though, that he’s not the first one to approach the topic of adoption. Their idiot social worker does, when five weeks turns into three months with no luck. The topic comes up, about what a match they would be, and how well they work with the baby, and Stiles rudely cuts her off by dragging Jackson into the hall, knowing that Jackson wolfing out was the least of their concerns if the conversation carried on any further down that path.

Because at the mere mention of adoption, confident, smooth Jackson almost broke Stiles hand squeezing so hard. His eyes widen minutely, his smile freezes in place, and to the untrained eye, it might seem like Jackson was just a little surprised. Stiles knows Jackson well enough to know that his husband just plunged into a hell of his own making, through stress and fears and issues that years of therapy have eased, but not entirely. Sure enough, no sooner than the door closes is Jackson leaned against the wall, clutching Stiles close to him, breathing in his scent as Stiles soothes him.

His heart is breaking as he tells Jackson it’s okay. They don’t have to adopt her. It’s just an option. And he knows he’s a terrible liar but he isn’t lying when he said he would never ask Jackson to do anything that he isn’t comfortable with.

It takes a good twenty minutes before Jackson calms down enough to pull back from the embrace, eyes red with tears and hands shaking. But it’s with the same stubborn determination that he approaches everything with—everything he really wants—even if his voice is shaking when he meets Stiles eyes.

“I want, Stiles. I… I do. With you.”

Stiles can only smile, his heart soaring, terrified but optimistic. He clears his throat to speak, but once more, Jackson beats him to the punch.

“We could name her Claudia.”

Stiles is crying again.

Less than a week later, as Stiles is pouring over every single parenting book he could find, Jackson makes a grand entrance into their bedroom and announces that he got Claudia to go to sleep. In the same breath, he tells Stiles that he’s transferred his entire inheritance into a college fund in her name.

Stiles drops the book he’s holding and pulls Jackson to the bed with such vigor (in the name of higher education) that he’s shocked they don’t end up waking the baby.

They are both passable parents, but if you ask either of them, it’s because Claudia is such a chill fucking baby. She cries when she’s hungry and that’s about it. She naps when she wants to, she chatters when she wants to, she giggles and grabs Jackson’s sideburns when he wolfs out for her amusement. She has Jackson wrapped around her finger in no time flat, and when she takes her first steps well before her first birthday, Jackson is the asshole dad in Mommy and Me class talking about how advanced his baby is. Stiles would find it really annoying, but something about watching Jackson push a shopping cart with a baby strapped to his chest makes him forget anything but love. He’s a sap.

Getting Jackson one of those baby bjorn things was the best ideas of Stiles’ entire life, because there was nothing that Stiles loved more than watching Jackson go on his early morning run, in a tank top and shorts, nasty green smoothie in hand—and a baby strapped to his chest. Stiles wasn’t sure what he loved more—getting the early morning kiss from his husband (and puckering up to smack one on his daughters head), or the deeper, sweatier, longer kiss that Jackson woke him up with after coming back from his run, which Stiles regularly fed back into, tugging Jackson into the bed without a second thought.

Jackson loved any time he could spend with his daughter, but his favorite times by far were the random days that he had off. Call him... boring, or old fashioned, or lame, or— “Jackson, shut up. There is nothing wrong with spending time with your family. We’re your family, you idiot, we love spending time with you too.” ...well, whatever the case, he loved it. Running errands on a Saturday became a family affair.

The old ladies in the natural grocer near their home love them. Stiles take full advantage of that, kissing his husband and cooing at his baby whenever they’re nearby to score an extra free sample of free range bacon or to get the latest gossip from the retirement home. He has a few of them on Sheriff Watch, and it would honestly be sad that Stiles’ dad couldn’t eat a jelly doughnut anywhere in town without Stiles knowing about it If it weren’t so funny.

Stiles finds his natural enemies in the yoga moms, though. Or at least, he would, if Jackson wasn’t Jackson. He could honestly watch hours of these single moms trying to flirt with Jackson in the produce aisle, while Stiles is standing right next to him, only to have Jackson completely dote on their kid and completely ignore them. He only intervenes once, when a busty blond thirty something mother of three reaches forward to pinch Claudia’s cheek. Stiles smiles, reaches forward, gently pulls the woman’s wrist away, and tells her that if she ever touches his daughter again, he will break her arm.

So maybe Jackson wasn’t the only one Claudia had wrapped around her pudgy fingers.

Claudia’s first word is “Papa”, directed solely at Jackson, and Stiles... well, Stiles couldn’t even find it in himself to be jealous, because Jackson was staring at Claudia in shock and wonder, and Stiles is falling in love all over again with him. Jackson takes in a deep breath and smiles, letting her grab on to both of his fingers, his voice crushingly soft as he nods his head.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m your Papa, and you’re my baby girl. Can you say baby? Bayyy-bee?”

She giggles and smacks him in the cheek, and the moment is over, but Jackson’s smile will be burned into Stiles brain forever.

(Two months later, Jackson is trying to get a clean onesie on a very fussy Claudia when Stiles walks in, and she goes ramrod straight in his arms, reaching for Stiles, making grabby motions and yelling “Dada! Dada!” in her adorably desperate little baby voice. Jackson feels his heart swell as Stiles jaw hits the floor, but only for a moment, before he swoops in and plucks their daughter from his arms.)

Things are easy with them, and honestly, Stiles should have been suspicious—because, rule of thumb, nothing is ever easy with Stiles and Jackson. Claudia is two and things are easy. Claudia is two and she falls while toddling across the kitchen. Claudia is two and Stiles is picking her up, comforting her while Jackson kisses her booboo. Claudia is two, in Stiles arms, her tears turning into laughter. Claudia is two, and she hiccups, and suddenly Claudia has golden eyes, sharp little nails, and an alarming amount of facial hair for a two year old.

Stiles and Jackson both freeze—Stiles, because in all the parenting books he has read, nothing has prepared him for the possibility of raising a werewolf baby. Jackson freezes for a slightly more dramatic reason, his own eyes burning blue in response to his daughters gold, mouth hanging open in shock. She’s not crying anymore, at least, and Stiles can count that as a win. Hell, out of the three of them, the person who is most surprised is Claudia, who is now giggling and smacking Stiles’ cheeks, clearly enjoying the hollow sound his gaping mouth makes when hit.

Stiles immediately invites everyone over, thinking it would be easier to show everyone in person. Derek will need to do some Alpha thing to cement her place in the pack, he rationalizes, pacing the living room while texting up a storm, and Jackson... Jackson is nervous for reasons he doesn’t fully know how to articulate, bouncing Claudia on his hip. He’s come a long way since he was the angry, self obsessed sixteen year old, asking for the bite, and he knows that, but there will always be a small part of him that worries Derek is on the verge of kicking him out. He’s can feel his heart picking up as he starts to sink into his own thoughts, because what if Derek—

He doesn't get a chance to follow that rabbit hole, because a tiny, disgruntled noise is all it takes from Claudia to garner Stiles entire attention, and it isn’t even a second before Stiles is up close and personal.

“I know that look. Jackson, stop thinking. This doesn’t change anything—they already love her, and they already love you. Now they just know to count her in for future training sessions and full moon parties. Breathe, baby. Claudia and I are here to stay.”

Jackson doesn’t know when his anchor expanded to include their daughter, but honestly, it probably always did.

Erica and Boyd show up first, Erica heavily pregnant with their own kid, and Scott and Kira arrive shortly after—they’ve been looking into following their lead in the adoption game, though Stiles secretly wished any adoption they go through was no where near as eventful as theirs. Derek arrives last, unintentionally making the dramatic entrance he’s known for, and he is barely in the door for a half moment before he freezes, eyes wide, looking at the baby in Jackson’s arms.

In his surprise, he moves quickly, too quick for Jackson’s liking—Derek is an arms reach away from him and Jackson growls, his eyes flaring blue, instinctively clutching Claudia closer to his chest. Stiles swallows and grips Jackson’s hand a little tighter, gearing up for this to be A Thing, and the rest of them are equally confused, considering they are still looking at a purely human child. One that Derek has babysat for, for fucks sake. Derek, though, has a huge grin on his face, and moves much slower as he reaches to put a hand on Jackson’s shoulder, squeezing it reassuringly.

Derek takes a knee and takes Claudia’s little pudgy hand in his own, and honestly, it would be a hilarious sight, except Derek’s eyes are burning red and Claudia wolfs out immediately, sitting shock still, mesmerized by Derek’s own eyes. It only lasts for a moment before she’s screams with joy, reaching for Derek’s sideburns, but Derek is already standing again, pulling Stiles and Jackson into a hug. The air almost crackles with electricity and even tiny, human Stiles feels something settle as the new pack bond takes form, with Derek’s arms tight around the two of them—

—the three of them, sorry, because Claudia is currently giggling like a fool from where she’s more or less suspended between the two wolves.

It was kind of perfect. Derek’s first beta raising the first born wolf of their new pack. If Stiles could pause that moment in time, he would have. Because raising a toddler was easy when Claudia was a relatively chill human baby. Now, though, it was like she had been saving up all her energy for the past two years—and now that her wolf was awake, it was time to let it loose.

Claudia became a terror. A terror they loved, of course, but a terror none the less because apparently “the terrible twos” were a very real thing, even for werewolves. She pushed every limit and every boundary, getting to the point where even Derek was wary about agreeing to babysit—Derek, the worlds biggest pushover when it came to babies. “No” became her favorite word at two—by three, it was “stop”—and when she was four, she had only one thing to say to a very sleep deprived, very emotional Stiles when he brought down the wrong pair of shoes for their weekly trip to see Papa for lunch.

“No, daddy, no! I want blue shoes, not green shoes! You never listen to me! I hate you! I hate you!”

Stiles was aware that he’s probably a little hysterical at that point—but when he hears that, something inside of him just breaks. He drops the shoes and just stands there and has to remind himself to breathe, and suddenly he’s crying, and somehow Claudia’s tantrum is over before it even begins. The first tear falls, and then ten seconds later his arms are full of his daughter, frantically scrambling to be close to him, apologizing profusely for being mean, her shouts turning into tears of her own.

Stiles is beyond comprehension at this point, but it feels like a switch has been flipped, as he and his daughter dissolve into tears while sitting on the kitchen floor.

At some point, Jackson comes home when he realizes he’s being stood up for lunch. They had more or less calmed down; though they were still on the kitchen floor, Stiles had fished his tablet off of the counter and was entertaining her with old pictures—of his mother, of Jackson in high school, of her as a baby.

He had just flicked to a picture of the three of them on Claudia’s adoption day—Stiles was beaming at the camera as his dad snapped a photo, and Jackson had a look of wonder on his face, looking down at the tiny baby swaddled in Jackson’s arms. Like he was summoned by the photo itself, Jackson comes in through the side door after parking his cruiser, takes less than three seconds to assess the situation (husband and child; on floor. scents; tears and sadness. threat level; moderate.) before shucking his utility belt and his badge and scooping them both into his arms. Claudia is crying again, but softer this time, still worn out from her earlier tantrum, apologizing in between hiccups for being so mean, but nothing could prepare either of them for the tumble of words that leaves her lips as she buries her face into Jackson’s shoulder.

“You and Daddy are still gonna keep me, right?”

Jackson is heartbroken, but... not surprised. He had gone through the same thing, more times than he can count, growing up. His parents had always brushed it off with platitudes—don’t be silly, Jackson, you’re overreacting Jackson. He finally had the chance to right some of their wrongs, the seriousness in his voice reflecting

“You got mad, and that happens sometimes. Daddy and I can get mad sometimes too. But we never stay mad at one another, and we always apologize, right sweetpea?”

He waits for Claudia to nod before he continues, aware that Stiles is staring at him too.

“Well, you already apologized to Daddy and I. You apologized because you realize you made a mistake, and it’s okay to make mistakes. You apologize because you love us, and we love you too. We love you, Claudia. And we are never, ever going to let you go.”

(Stiles and Claudia fall asleep in Jackson’s arms, and Jackson takes a selfie, sending it to the sheriff with an apology for missing his afternoon shift. He waits until the Sheriff responds, with a laughing emoji of all things [who taught him how to do that?!], before uploading it to their digital album too.)

When Claudia turns five, she begs for a ladybug party at the Hale House with all her “woofpack”. Honestly, Stiles was just thankful that Derek was an absolute pushover for all of the kids in the pack—between all of their original betas, there were six little rats running around at any given time, four of which were human, and Derek was a sucker for all of them.

(Boyd and Erica’s son had popped his fangs five days earlier. Claudia is ecstatic to have a new member of her woofpack. Jackson spends a lot of time playing with the baby chubby cheeks. Stiles grins and gives them a very brief warning about the terrible twos, before calling this karmic payback for the time Erica clocked him with a piece of his own Jeep, because he will never let that go.)

Stiles was just happy that it meant he didn’t have to clean up after the party, even if he did spend the entire night beforehand icing about a million ladybug cupcakes.

“It was three dozen, Stiles, and you’re the one who didn’t want to pay a baker to make them.”

“Aw, thanks babe, your devotion and respect for me really knows no bounds.”

Jackson smirks at him and Stiles smooshes a cupcake against his nose, throwing his head back in laughter as Jackson pulls back, looking incredibly offended. They’re on the second story balcony overlooking the yard, and Stiles is only half paying attention to Jackson’s protests as he hears shrieks of joy coming from the grass below. Their daughter is running through the field with a red and black cape flying behind her, eyes gold with mirth as she avoids Erica’s outstretched hand in what appears to be a very fair game of tag.

He lets his free hand sneak into Jackson’s, like it was some kind of secret—Jackson, who has no chill, pulls him close, arms going around him from behind. Stiles laughs again as he turns to his husband, basking in the warmth that pools in his chest with another happy shriek sounds from his family below.

“Hey Jacks?”

“Yeah baby?”

Nothing in Stiles and Jackson’s life has ever been easy.

“… I want another one.”

And neither of them would change a damn thing.

#stackson #stiles stilinski #jackson whittemore #teen wolf #kidfic #ask #jacksonstilinskis #lmao you wanted something fluffy and domestic #how about whatever this is instead?#lmao sorry #kill me fr #flospeaks #mutually assured devotion

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zebranote1 · 4 years ago

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So if you're one such parent, don't be embarrassed. It's time and energy to spend some quality moments with your child. All major internet gaming portals offer you accounts. After you have an account made, that will be optional of course, you can submit scores online, vote for games that you like or hate, maintain your statistics effectively, learn how several hours you've spent playing a game and your own personal high scores. Do offer a moment to reading the game's description and get acquainted with the controls so you know what you're supposed to do once the game begins, that's to state if that you don't know it already. As for teenagers, the games that enjoy great popularity among them are sports games, racing and adventure ones. They like the simulation offered by these online games and a lot of the times obtain friends involved to take full benefit of the unlimited number of players they are able to enjoy competing with over the internet. 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#Rust Jackpot

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philkang · 4 years ago

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Retrospection

It’s been 3 years since I’ve moved to LA.

Before that, I was in Cleveland. Gray town with gray skies that I spent 5 years getting an education. I needed to get out. The month before I moved, I was constantly on the phone: arranging a job, finding an apartment, and looking for a car. The next big step was coming up, and I had to be ready. August 1st, 2017: I moved, I bought a car, and I started my job. I splurged. New tires, IKEA furniture, computer screens, and an air filter. I engorged myself on experiential pleasures. Every night a new date. Every morning another goodbye. Every day a new meal. Every evening another high.

And it was like that for another 8 months.

Work was getting me nowhere fast. Pleasures turned into chores. I turned 24.

September 2018: I ended up leaving that job and quitting most of my vices. I met good people, old friends, and wise teachers. I moved to Koreatown. I went through cycles of going out and staying in, taking vices and rejecting them. Was still in flux, but finding rocks to add to my foundation. It was a very experimental time of trying on different ideologies.

But the tides of change weather away the frivolous thoughts and philosophies. Are people inherently good? What is to be good? Does it matter? Nothing matters.

Am I free to be what I want to be? Am I free from myself? I haven’t yet mastered myself.

I started meditating more seriously and questioning my motives. What do I want? How am I? Why am I thinking the things I think? Do I want to be thinking like this?

September 2019: Time passes quickly when you don’t pay attention. Got a new job to keep me busy and fed. Previous vices became less and less appealing. I spent more time in introspection. I spent more time reading other people’s writing of their own experiences. I dreamed more of writing the story of my own life, and what I want this life to be like.

My thoughts have become much more centered. My self-image has become more grounded. I’ve started to feel more. Love, anger, pain, joy, jealousy, empathy, and even ambivalence. Ironic that through detachment, I’ve found a much richer experience in life.

In quarantine, this was pushed to the limit. I fell back into the flux initially, but now I know how to find my footing. Stretching, yoga, and breathing exercises have kept me relaxed. Meditation has been the rock I hold fast to. Playing cello mellows out the emotional swings through performance.

October 7, 2020: It’s now 2:35am. I took a nap today so I’m not that sleepy. I stretched out my legs and hips, and I felt an urge to write. I probably won’t directly share this, but I think I’ll share some other entries I write later on. I just wanted to capture this moment of retrospection. I don’t remember much in the way of events and experiences, but the changes in my ideology and thinking are so clear to me. In retrospect, I cringe at the things I used to believe in and the conclusions I’ve made, but I’d rather be a hypocrite and grow through my experiences. I now fear the day I look back and realize my thoughts haven’t changed.

How will I grow from this point on? I think I’ve spent enough time on philosophy and not enough time on action. I’m finishing up my bachelors degree now. I just finished training and am now a Red Cross disaster shelter reserve worker. I’m actively looking for small business opportunities.

There’s multiple ways of looking at this praxis. I like to think of it as “freedom through discipline”. It’s also being a slave to social norms. I guess I don’t really care. Laying around all day only got me depressed, and being unsure all the time made me anxious. I think there’s currently a social fetishization of youth, and I feel the need to take advantage of that now to secure a comfy living in the future. And to be honest, I like the feeling of advancing myself. For the longest time I allowed myself to be tricked into thinking that a college degree doesn’t matter, that accolades don’t matter, and all I need to do is show up with skills. I don’t want to make that mistake again. I’m still reconciling these ideas. I might do a complete 180 in a few months.

I’ve asked a lot of older people about their perspective in life, and about the experiences I’ve been feeling. They all say the same thing, “You’ll always feel like that for the rest of your life.” How they cope with that is in all kinds of different ways. I’m still figuring it out, but I’m getting better at it.

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mysticaltigersorceress · 4 years ago

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For both my gorls: 8, 23, 24, 29, 37, 38, 39, 41, 42, 51, 54, 61, 65, 66? uwu :lovesick:

lol this took so long, so all of them be under the cut :peepolove:

8. How does your OC talk/what does your OC's voice sound like?

Renna has a lower pitched voice (contralto for u music nerds), and while she tends to be very sassy, also talks very formally. (Except in the whole honorifics aspect. In Japanese, the only person she’d give an honorific to would probably be Haven, and maybe a few others in… tense situations.) *cough* she also tends to speak very… eloquently… when she’s drunk. RIP anyone who does not have a dictionary on them. (Accent wise, I’d give her a British accent, I know there are different kinds, but like standard BBC)

Haven’s voice is a bit higher (soprano range), and usually talks very casually, though she is a normal amount of respectful toward strangers. When she isn’t thinking about it, she tends to squish all her words into weird contractions. ‘I wish y’all coulda seen tha!’ … so basically I’m giving her my way of irl talking. So, American mountain west accent?

23. Who are the people your OC surrounds him/herself with?

Renna usually keeps people at a distance. Usually. Somehow Haven wormed her way in, but that’s not the point. Renna tends to be around criminals

Haven surrounds herself with people she thinks are good. Just because they’re technically a criminal doesn’t mean they are bad. She loves to be around average people, though she has to be careful to not get them in trouble by association. So Revolutionaries? Check! Whitebeard? Double check!! All these other fantastic people the government do not approve of? ALL THE CHECKS! (There are also a few marines she likes in theory but can’t ever really see because they’d have to bring her in.)

24. Who are the people your OC dislikes/hates?

Imma start with Haven this time. This child *sobs* has gone through so much crap, and yet, doesn’t really have it in her to hate anyone. Now, there are a few people she would avoid if at all possible. Akainu and [a made up marine rear admiral I have yet to name] are at the top of that list and if she truly hated anyone, it would be these two. She does seriously dislike Caesar Clown (she met him at some point before he was arrested) and actually, she’d probably be able to cross into that border of hate when she finds out what his experiments were after he left the WG.

Now Renna, hmm where should I start? She feels a lot of anger where Haven doesn’t, so Akainu and [stupid rear admiral?], oh yeah, she’ll decapitate them if she gets a chance. She hates sexual predators and sex offenders, and their apologists and defenders. She also hates the Celestial Dragons, and anyone else who supports the slave trade. So Doflamingo? Fuck that guy, and anyone who works for him. All those are personal, but in general, the thing she hates most are people who are lazy and take credit from others.

29. What is your OC's level of education?

Renna has the OP equivalent of a PHD, cuz she is a doctor. (Might not technically have her license anymore, but yk.)

Haven didn’t attend any sort of school, ever. However, she was taught about botany to help her with using her DF, so she does have a bit of vocational training?

37. What is your OC's biggest dream?

Renna didn’t have a dream of her own for a long time. But when she was older, she realized she did have a dream: to live her life out as she decided, to experiment, try new things, to fail and not have it be a bad thing.

Haven’s biggest dream is to have her bounty poster redacted. If that happened, she could settle down without fearing for her safety. (Also, get that surgery on her hip done.)

38. How does your OC react to and handle stress?

Renna handles stress very well most of the time. Half the crew bleeding out and the other half being dumbasses? *SMACK* here’s the instructions, don’t back talk or I’ll break your other arm too. Sometimes though, if she’s more emotionally invested, then she might not handle it as well. She generally folds inward though to handle the stress, gets quiet and a bit nonverbal. (Won’t talk unless absolutely necessary.) When she’s anxious, bites her lip a lot too.

Haven has two ways to handle stress; procrastinate feeling it, or hysterically laugh it off. Or both. For the first option, it’s usually when she’s in a fight scenario; can’t deal it rn, so she’ll just cry when she finally has time to stop and process it all. Laughing about it? That happens when she’s feeling anxious but cannot do a single thing to change that fact. Anxious for no reason? Just starts laughing in the middle of the street, and people think she’s crazy. She also tends to get very twitchy when she’s anxious as well.

39. How does your OC handle anger?

Renna is very used to keeping all her emotions under check, so even when she��s upset about something, she just keeps it to herself. To blow off steam, how she’ll handle it will depend on the options she has. If she’s on an island, if she can find a piano in a bar to play at, she’ll do that for a few hours. If not, she’s going to find the first people she deems scum and beat them to a bloody pulp. However very occasionally, she will lash out, and that just means a lot of yelling, but that is a very rare thing for her.

Haven doesn’t get angry very often. If she’s upset about something, she’s going to go distract herself until she can think about it clearly. She’ll often seek out performers to watch them, or go wander around in gardens/fields/forests, anywhere she can be close to plants and away from people. But when Haven truly gets angry, well if you’ve heard the saying: “Demons run when a good man woman goes to war.”

41. What is your OC's greatest fear?

Renna: Eels. Also, her ex-fiance.

Haven: Akainu and [unnamed rear admiral].

42. What makes your OC happy?

Renna: Learning new songs on the piano. Also, pretending to be losing in a fight only to turn the tables on them last minute.

Haven: Making someone else happy, flowers, singing. Also, attending performances of different kinds. Dance? Music? Acrobatics? Theatre? All wonderful.

51. What are some of your OC's morals?

Renna: Taking advantage of others work is wrong, put forth your own work and effort. Taking away another's freedom is abhorrent. You are under no obligation to save your enemies/those who would spitefully use you. Sexually harassing/assaulting someone is one of the worst crimes in her book. (Abusing another for your own pleasure.)

Haven: Taking away someone’s freedom is wrong, as is using others for your own agenda without their consent. Mercy is something that should always be granted, unless they have proven in the past that they will bite the hand that fed them. You should help others whenever you are able. Don’t regret anything you do unless it brings harm to another. (I guess unless you meant to harm them.)

54. Does your OC think with his/her head or heart?

Renna would claim to think with her head, and frequently she does. But, she does frequently make impulsive decisions, so :tpose:

Haven usually thinks with her heart, but it rarely leads her astray. She is fairly emotionally intuitive, and trusts her instincts and impressions. Over thinking things just gets in the way.

61. What is the general impression your OC gives other people?

Renna: Cold, aloof, fierce, calculating.

Haven: Kind, soft-spoken, air-headed, welcoming.

65. What is your OC's favorite drink?

Renna: Fruit/herb infused water, rose wine.

Haven: Peach tea

66. What is your OC's favorite food?

Renna: Cinnamon Rolls, Blueberries, Blueberry Cinnamon Rolls

Haven: Chocolate muffins

#asked #ask game #haven #renna #my ocs #one piece ocs #one piece #mvchat

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morethanaprincess-a · 5 years ago

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Sondam perhaps?

Shipping meme - Gundham and Sonia edition

Gives nose/forehead kisses: Gundham started it, as Sonia mostly kept to cheek kisses or, if she’s feeling particularly flirty, neck and jawline kisses. But otherwise, she enjoys placing kisses on his forehead when he’s asleep and she thinks he doesn’t notice.

Gets jealous the most: Gundham. Sonia’s pleased when others take an interest in him, from his work to his hobbies, and she’d only get a little jealous if someone tried to show him physical affection that should only be meant for her. But in Gundham’s case, there’s snobby, self-centered aristocrats who think they belong with her, Kazuichi who’s obsessed with her, and even random people who are just struck by her beauty and kindness who’d like to take advantage of that. He doesn’t act out unless he’s provoked, though (and it’s probably due to Kaz being Kaz or someone making a very inappropriate, sexually-themed joke at Sonia’s expense).

Takes care of on sick days: They are both the most stubborn people about taking time off to heal, but they always sense when the other truly needs it. Sonia’s very sweet but persistent about getting Gundham to take medicine, but she often orders in healthy, vegan food because she doesn’t trust her skills in the kitchen. When Sonia’s sick, she likes when Gundham reads to her or retrieves a favorite TV show or film to watch.

Drags the other person out into the water on beach day: Sonia. She wants to teach him how to swim and share how lovely the beach is. Though when they try, Gundham attracts all sorts of marine life who wish to join in their fun. Which delights Sonia, as she’s happy to learn from him too.

Brings the other lunch at work: Gundham would start this first, seeing Sonia forgo most meals, sleep, and social interaction if she’s working on a particularly difficult speech or proposal, or she’s on edge about meeting an ambassador who’s notoriously hard to get along with. But when Sonia gets a better grasp of what Gundham will tolerate eating, much less enjoy, when he’s immersed in work, she’ll surprise him with lunch too. She’ll likely send one of his beasts to get his attention after explaining that their master needs to be fed and rested, too (Yes, she does talk to the animals and thinks they understand her).

Tries to start role-playing in bed: Sonia, in an effort to show him that it’s okay to be playful and a little bit rough with her in bed. She won’t turn him away if he goes too far on accident. Once she’s given him that reassurance, Gundham’s the one who initiates this more often.

Embarrassingly drunk dancer: Neither. Sonia’s more of a happy dancer, still graceful but insistent that everyone joins her. Drunk!Gundham is moping until Sonia sits a bit too close beside him for public comfort and whispers that she’ll always love him.

Firmly believes in couples costumes: They both do, though Gundham prefers costumes that are beautiful and dignified, showing off their combined majestic splendor. Sonia likes outfits that make her look scary, silly, or otherwise imperfect (prosthetics, dirt, blood, you name it), which Gundham isn’t always interested in but often gives in when she gives him pleading eyes.

Breaks the expensive gift rule during Christmas: Gundham started it, mostly because for awhile Sonia just didn’t know what to get him. She wanted to get him the Perfect Present when he’d be happy with nearly anything, as long as it came from her. Once she felt that he truly enjoyed her gifts, there’s no expensive gift rule. It’s never a competition to spend the most money, but they do strive to provide gifts and experiences they know the other will adore.

Makes the other eat breakfast: They both do, but Sonia will remind Gundham a bit more often. After all the animals are fed, he’ll often go right to his next task. So she’ll bring out breakfast for both of them at the appropriate time and eats with him, so he can’t forget and they have a few more moments together before starting their days.

Remembers anniversaries: Both. No matter how busy their lives become, they will always remember anniversaries and set aside time to cherish one another on those days.

Brings up having kids first: Sonia, as she tries to figure out where Gundham stands on the idea of having children. She not only needs an heir but she does enjoy their company. The very prospect terrifies him so she starts slowly, with more participation in children’s charities and encouraging animal education and training classes for kids. Letting Gundham share his expertise with them in a gentle, encouraging nature helps him come around that, perhaps, these two would be good parents (those kids are going to L O V E Halloween).

Kills the bugs: Neither. Sonia may have before they started dating and accidentally did it once, which disappointed Gundham. Now, they simply release them unless Sonia catches one to show him.

First to define them as a couple: That’s a good question. It’ll probably be Sonia after their frustration with each other reaches the tipping point. But once they’ve started dating, it’ll be Sonia who reassures him that he’s allowed to hold her, touch her, come to her with problems, the normal things that couples do. It’s a lot of reassurance on her end that he’s not bothering her.

Who hides their guilty pleasures longer: Gundham. He’s much better at keeping secrets in general than she is, as long as they’re not of national or international importance. Sonia tries to give him a comfortable space to tell her anything, though.

Snorts while laughing: Neither, though Sonia can laugh so hard she’ll start to hiccup, and she’ll get very embarrassed by that.

#the-taboo-king #Shipping meme - Gundham x Sonia #(These two are cute and I love them)#(Please Sondam figure out that you adore each other soon)

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rivkahstudies · 5 years ago

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hey Rivkah! I've seen you post about having career goals related to linguistic anthropology and you've also posted that discrimination, especially linguistic discrimination, is one of the worst things about society your opinion. I was wondering if you had any ideas about how one could counter linguistic discrimination, either as part of a career or on the side. I'm especially interested in hearing your thoughts on how one might be able to do this outside of doing ling anth in academia.

Hi honey! I’m really honored to receive this question because it’s so insightful and dedicated to something I’m incredibly passionate about. It overlaps with sociology, law, and politics. So, first I’ll talk about what I’m personally planning to do outside of/past academia, and then I’ll talk about other avenues one can take, both on a large and small scale.

Right now, my goals are to be either a medical or legal interpreter, and I’m leaning toward the latter. What that means, for those that don’t know, is that I want to go through a graduate degree or certificate program in order to be certified to translate specific languages orally in a highly specialized workplace, namely a hospital or a courtroom.

The reason why I’m so passionate about this job is because, while we have laws such as Title VII of the Civil Rights Act (which prohibits discrimination based on “national origin,” which is closely tied to the native language you speak) we still see a lot of prejudice and violence against people who choose to speak their native/a different language on their own terms in public.

More specifically, what I aim to do is make it easier for non-native English speakers (especially, but not limited to, immigrants) receive the same services all people have a right to but they may have difficulty getting, such as medical attention or accurate legal representation. Interpretation is incredibly high stakes in my eyes because you have to translate automatically, in person, with a lot of pressure on you to do it quickly and accurately. And that’s really scary, but to me, what’s scarier is that someone might not be getting the care they need or be understood in a courtroom, and that could impact their health, their safety, their freedom, or their ability to get justice.

While someone might not necessarily be actively sabotaged in a courtroom or a hospital, those are high profile environments with a lot of pressure, and not a lot of time for patience and forgiveness if you’re trying to get through a case or to the next patient. The odds are stacked against someone who doesn’t have the specific vocabulary needed to accurately describe their symptoms or deliver their testimony.

And that’s not even counting the ingrained and/or active biases that are found on a serious level in the United States healthcare and justice systems. One of the reasons I’m leaning toward legal interpretation is because I would love to be employed by an organization that protects immigrants from being exploited or abused by our current administration. And that’s so much easier to do when you have bilingual representation to fight with you for your rights.

So, that’s a little background on what I’m specifically studying and fighting for. Here are just a few quick bullets that I always tell people when talking about linguistic discrimination and our role in it.

On a large scale, you can:

Go into a career like mine (law, interpretation, translation, etc) that focuses on combating it.

Support political campaigns and anti-discrimination bill campaigns by volunteering your time to organizations like the ACLU (American Civil Liberties Union) and RAICES (Refugee And Immigrant Center for Education and legal Services)

SPEAKING OF WHICH, if you’re like me and you use Lyft, you can donate to RAICES with each Lyft Ride. They’ll round up to the nearest dollar on your fee and donate that extra. All you have to do is go to the app and opt in under “Donate.”

Attend conferences, meetings, workshops, and rallies that center around this topic and intersecting ones that you may be interested in.

Volunteer your time to places like housing projects. This is something that I’m on an email/calling list to do. Specifically for me, it’s the Boston Housing Authority, and their volunteers send in a resume, state which languages they have high proficiency in (mine is currently only Spanish) and then attend a training to understand how to do it accurately and with cultural sensitivity. It’s great practice if you need to polish your language skills, are planning to go into a career like mine, or want to use highly-specialized vocabulary. I’ve had to pick up a lot of words that have to do with landlords, rent, housing laws, etc. A lot of the people serviced by the BHA are immigrants or non-native speakers and struggle with things such as reading official letters or making appointments with native English speakers. When they struggle to do this, they’re more likely to get taken advantage of by landlords, evicted unfairly, or mistreated.

Support (through volunteering, donating, etc) indigenous or indigenous-helping groups that combat issues ranging from seizure of land in the Amazon to indigenous groups working on their terms to preserve/revitalize their language(s). It’s really easy for indigenous voices to

On a small (but equally important) scale, you can:

Call out linguistic discrimination that you see, such as people denying individuals service based on hearing them speak in another language, or unnecessarily bothering them in public. Whenever possible, take video of the incident.

Have polite and informed discussions with people who want to know more about it or might not understand why it’s a problem. This is particularly important to have with kids, and while I was volunteering/teaching Hebrew I made sure that it was integrated into the lessons.

Remain informed on cases involving linguistic discrimination.

Call your representatives when cases come up concerning linguistic discrimination or immigration policy.

Vote for representatives who believe in acceptance and equality for people who come from different backgrounds/languages.

Boycott/denounce companies and organizations that improperly handle workplace/customer discrimination or instigate it themselves.

Follow native speakers, particularly indigenous individuals and/or minority language speakers, as well as linguistic/social activists and journalists/academics, on your social media feeds (my preferred one to check is Twitter) for updates and opinions on issues that may help you get more informed outside of a classroom/professorial setting.

Be aware of the kinds of resources you should reach out to (administration, superiors, HR, etc) should you find yourself experiencing or watching someone experience linguistic discrimination.

Disclaimer: before stepping into any confrontations, make sure you assess the danger of the situation (this where it’s really good to go to trainings to learn how to handle these kinds of situations). Your goal is to always de-escalate and make the person being discriminated against safer, as well as of course keeping yourself safe too. If there’s violence or anyone is in immediate danger, call the authorities and document whatever you can safely. I’ve only ever seen people being verbally abused for their use of their language(s), but it’s a scary world out there right now.

Overall, it’s really important to remember that this kind of discrimination does not exist in a vacuum and almost always has ties/roots in other forms of discrimination and racism. While it may seem like you’re only doing something small by stepping into and diffusing confrontation/condemning discrimination, you’re having a ripple effect that lets people who linguistically discriminate know that they should be ashamed of their words/actions.

ALSO, friendly reminder that people who discriminate/harass someone for speaking in another language, having an accent, etc, are not entitled to be put up with due to free speech. That isn’t what it means.

A couple more resources on language discrimination in the workplace:

Language Discrimination & Workplace Fairness

Legal Aid at Work

World Language Education: Preventing Linguistic Discrimination

THIS IS BY NO MEANS ALL-ENCOMPASSING! It is also fed by the researched but incomplete knowledge I have on the subject as a non-expert and a student who is aspiring to meet these kinds of goals. Because I’m a student, I’m always learning, and that means growth must sometimes take the place of changing things I thought I knew and admitting mistakes.

If you have anything else you want to add to this, please feel free to message me or reply/reblog.

If you see any inaccuracies, incomplete information, or other concerns/issues with what I’ve written here, please take the time to contact me and educate me!

I hope this is a good answer and satisfactorily answered your question, @stressfulsemantics ? Please feel free to ask any follow-up or message me for anything you may need!

#stressfulsemantics #rivkah answers #linguistic anthropology #interpretation #about me #career goals #linguistic discrimination #i am so sorry i have been awol so much yall this summer has been pretty freaking crazy and i'm leaving for boston tomorrow #WOOT

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thelonesgroup · 5 years ago

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What Can History Teach Us About Real Estate?

There is no doubt that the last few weeks have been a challenge in many of our strongest real estate markets. In many places we have strong buyer demand, but are unable to satisfy that need because of the demand for social distancing.

We have MLS services in some markets that are not allowing open houses. Some MLS are not even allowing new listings to be added - for the greater good. I have agents asking me about their buyers who had great jobs even a week ago who now may have uncertainty in qualifying. I have agents asking how their buyers can possibly take advantage of ridiculously low interest rates when they don't know if they will have a job to return to. I have agents whose sellers are concerned about allowing anyone into their house.

If you can dream of a situation, I am sure I have received an email about it in the last several days.

What you can do right now is be an authentic voice for your buyer and seller clients. Empathize with their concerns, offer solutions if you have them (but often you won't), but remember – the mechanics of a strong real estate market are still underlying the current virus situation.

Despite the uncertainty, we are still seeing multiple offers. We are seeing virtual open houses. We are seeing more videos of agents giving their spin on events. Everywhere I look I am inspired by agents who are taking an innovative approach to taking advantage of this new normal.

I am seeing agents helping their future sellers make a to-do list via Facetime of the improvements they can do while they are working from home. I am seeing brokerages having virtual meetings via Zoom to keep their agents informed. I am seeing agents helping their potential buyers get pre-approved so they are raring to go to get out shopping. I am seeing agents taking action and getting proactive.

None of us have a crystal ball, but I believe that with the amount of global effort that is focused on combating this will help us get back to normal soon. In the meantime, don't go into hiding. Call your clients and your database, Facetime them, send them information, and offer your expertise.

I decided that for this week's Zebra Report, I would give you a "throw back." I am going back to August of 2008 when I penned this Zebra Report in response to the Housing Crisis. I believe now what I believed then - we will persevere because we trade in something that everyone needs – a roof over their head. We are needed and will continue to be needed, regardless of natural disasters, economic crises, and yes, even a virus.

Hang in there and connect!

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What Can History Teach Us About Real Estate – a look back to August 2008

As a coach and teacher, this February to August 2008 in real estate, have presented unique challenges for me. Many agents—including some of the best who have been in business for years—have called me to ask if they should quit the real estate business.

It's understandable. The past year in real estate has seen some major shake-ups that are re-designing the business landscape.

Truth is, the market has shifted. There's no doubt about that. No longer are buyers lining up to buy houses. No longer are sellers getting multiple offers.

I'm saddened a bit. But not for the reason you may think. I'm saddened not that the market has shifted, but rather that so many agents doubt the future of real estate. A mere change in the market should not have the power to deflate an entire industry.

A mere change? How can I say that? I know some of you think that I'm just trying to stay positive in the face of imminent disaster. Some of you may see me as just a spokesperson for the industry, so naturally I have to get out there and be a rah-rah cheerleader, right?

Nothing could be further from the truth. I base my belief in the industry on history. If you take some time to look at the past forty years in real estate, you will see that history can teach us a lot about the real estate market.

History does indeed repeat itself. It provides us valuable lessons to study—if only we would take advantage of them. Past events are strong indicators of how we will survive market shifts in the future.

Remember the 18% interest rates from the early 1980's? Perhaps you weren't around then, but I can assure you that it was a difficult time for real estate. And yet, the market could bear an 18% interest rate. When it couldn't, interest rates dropped.

Interest rates have always fluctuated. They have always gone up, then come down again. Even today, with a slower market than in the early 2000's boom, we are experiencing all-time low interest rates.

We have the government to thank for a lot of this as well. The Feds keep a watchful eye on the markets, and has lent a strong hand to help large industries out of disaster—especially real estate. I truly believe that the recent measures signed into law to help at-risk borrowers are going to be quite helpful to all of us.

How about prices? Right now, some people are tearing their hair out because their home has lost up to $100,000 of value. But when you look at the past forty years, you see nothing but appreciation.

From the early 1960's until today—passing through SIX recessions—real estate has continued to appreciate in value. It is the ONLY investment that has continued to go upward.

Have we reached a plateau? Yes, we have. Have we reached the summit? Absolutely not.

The market always improves. History tells us so. Supply and demand will ensure that the market continues to appreciate. The market is only taking a breather right now.

It is NORMAL for any market to take a breather after a period of massive growth. Back in 2005-2006, we saw appreciation like we never saw before. Prices were "off the charts" in some areas.

No market can sustain growth like that forever. It's just impossible. Right now, we're just in a perfectly reasonable period of adjustment in which some rules are changing so we can set the stage for future growth.

There always has been, is, and always will be a need for new housing in this country. And not just for basic living, but also for pleasure and enjoyment. People want second homes. People need to relocate for education, business, and recreation. We need housing for seniors, new families, and a constant flow of immigration.

The laws of supply and demand do not falter. When there is a demand, there must be a strong supply. As demand rises, so will prices. It's virtually a guarantee in a growing country. And believe it or not, over 200 years since it began, the United States of America is still growing.

Real estate, like any strong commodity, will always be in demand. As long as any commodity is in demand, it will continue to appreciate and be a strong investment.

True, consumers are concerned right now. But again, if you look at history, you see that consumer concern was high at several points over the last forty years. Every time the media reports on "alarming figures", people gobble it up and react with paralyzing fear.

It happened in the seventies. It happened in the eighties. It even happened one time in the nineties. And now we're in the middle of a media frenzy of negative reporting that carelessly avoids any good news.

It is no coincidence that the real estate market has suffered at the hands of consumer concern in the last year and a half. This is what happens when consumers are inundated with bad news—whether it's completely accurate or not.

But the truth is that even when consumers are concerned, life goes on. The real estate market keeps on going amid adjustments, inflation, high interest rates, low interest rates, high prices, low prices, and consumer concern.

What goes down comes back up again. What goes up falls back down again. From as far back as we can see, the real estate industry has fluctuated wildly. This is the great lesson of using history as a predictor of what's to come.

Personally, the one thing history has taught me is that over the long haul, real estate has longer "up" periods. We're in a "down" one right now, but history shows us that once we get back to an "up" period, it will most likely last longer than this breather time.

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So, agents, take heart with lessons from history. Camp here on this plateau for a while. Weather the winds of change.

The summit is yet to be reached.

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mst3kproject · 6 years ago

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811: Parts: the Clonus Horror

When The Island came out in 2005, the makers of Parts sued Dreamworks and reached a settlement for some millions of dollars. There are rumors that the film-makers were reluctant to actually bring the case, since they’d kind of hoped everybody forgot about this movie. If that’s true, they never had a chance. MSTies never forget.

Clonus is a high-security facility funded by Adidas, which raises clones so that their organs can be harvested for transplantation. After a rigorous physical fitness program, successful clones are told it’s time to go to Disneyland or something, and are then frozen and packaged. One day, a clone named Richard is inspired by an empty can of Old Milwaukee to investigate the ugly truth behind his world, and manages to escape Clonus and reach a city, where he kinda wanders around lost until a old man finds him. This guy is a retired journalist, who might be able to blow the lid off the whole Clonus project, as long as the company’s thugs don’t find them first.

My first thought on this movie is that I haven’t seen this much product placement since Mac and Me.

My second thought is that this is all extremely impractical. You’ve got this giant facility with hundreds of clones, all of whom need to be raised, educated, fed, exercised, clothed, cured when they’re sick, housed, entertained, etcetera… this would require hundreds more if not thousands of staff! What’s the payoff? Somebody gets a liver in forty years? Right, but you’d have to have your clone made while you’re still fairly young if they’re going to be mature by the time you’re old and sick, and then what if you never need a liver? That’s a whole clone gone to waste there. What if you die in a car accident without ever using your clone? Do they just throw it out? What if your clone dies before you do? Do you get your money back? Peter Graves talks about immortality through unlimited spare parts, but that’s not how that works… what if you have a stroke? You can’t replace your brain with a clone’s.

I have way more questions. Why are Richard and Lina different from the others? They’re ‘control’ clones, but what variables are the scientists controlling for? The ‘normal’ clones don’t seem that much different, just more complacent. If the clones aren’t supposed to know they’re being watched then why do the ‘guides’ talk into microphones right in front of them? What do the clones think is going on when an airplane flies over?

How do they keep this all a secret from the outside world? The staff must sign nondisclosure agreements and stuff, but do none of them ever have moral qualms and decide to talk? Most of the people with clones seem to know they have clones. They must have paid for it at some point. Do none of them ever decide this is fucked-up and withdraw from the program? What happens to their clone if they do? Do they ever get the urge to meet their clone? What if some narcissistic aging billionaire’s only child dies and they decide to adopt their clone as an heir… is that allowed? If your relative needs a liver and you’d be a close match but need to keep yours, can you donate your clone’s?

I think I just wrote six movies more interesting than this one, because Parts: the Clonus Horror is really, really boring. The first half of the movie is bland clones leading their bland lives in bland surroundings. I’m aware that’s supposed to be the point: the clones themselves are encouraged to be kind of dim and dull so that their keepers don’t get attached to them, and their lives are not very dramatic because stress would harm them. The Clonus facilities look like the world’s most boring wellness retreat because that’s exactly what they are. Fair enough, but you don’t have to show that to us in a way that bores the audience. Clonus doesn’t look like any fun, but it doesn’t look worth avoiding, either. Nothing that happens makes us feel like we know Richard and Lina as people, and so it’s hard to care about what happens to them.

It also undercuts the movie’s point. This is a film about human rights and how the rich and powerful are willing to violate them if it offers them some advantage. That’s an important thing to explore, but Parts does a terrible job because we don’t see the clones as people. They don’t have interests, or ideas, or relationships, they just wander around looking like they’re gonna bump into things. Richard’s curiosity and Lina’s journaling should make us like them, but it’s all so poorly-presented that we don’t care.

Part of this does come from the desire to show how the clones have been raised, but at lot of it is also bad writing, because the characters who are not clones aren’t any better. Peter Graves, his brother, and Hairy Son Rick chat about the morality of the whole thing but none of them have what one might describe as a personality. When they talk about the situation and its moral implications, they do so in a very ham-fisted way that’s talking to the audience far more than it is each other. We don’t care enough about them to be interested in their decisions, their opinions, or even their deaths. All the time that should have been spent getting us interested in these characters was wasted on clones jogging.

Guess what that makes Richard? Yep, sure enough, he’s a Main Character Who Doesn’t Do Anything! He doesn’t save his friends, he doesn’t save his girlfriend… he doesn’t even save himself. Even worse, during the second half of the movie, when the action should be happening, Richard is not even a part of it. Having escaped from Clonus he doesn’t know where he is and has no idea what to do next. He places his fate in his original’s hands, and lets others take over. The result may be the end of Clonus, but it is also the end of Richard and what few things he ever held dear.

I think Richard’s storyline might be an attempt to say something about the ‘hero’s journey’ trope, in which the Callow Youth sets out into the big, scary world to take on forces far greater than himself. It’s hard to imagine anyone callower than Richard, who has never really experienced anything, but that inexperience is his undoing. The outside world is just too big and scary for him, and having reached it, he just wants to go home. When he gets there, however, he finds that home is not a place of safety. He has not yet learned enough to know that it’s actually the worst place he could go.

If any of you remember Conquest, I was pretty sure that was an intentional subversion of the ‘inexperienced young hero saves the world’ trope. In Parts, it feels like an accident. The writing is just too amateurish to be trying to suggest anything so subtle. Richard questions his experiences and Peter Graves and his brother argue about the ethics of cloning, with all the nuance of Anakin Skywalker complaining about sand – which may be a bad example because that was at least an attempt at a metaphor, in a story that was intentionally about the hero’s journey gone horribly wrong. The closest Parts comes to a metaphor is to use the cloning project as a symbol of everything the rich get away with, and that would have been inherent in the premise anyway.

Since the clones themselves are mere pawns and almost all the other characters are villains, this leaves Parts as a movie without a hero. Richard certainly never does anything remotely heroic, the politicians are corrupt assholes, and Hairy Rick doesn’t know enough, himself, to know that taking Richard home will result in disaster (though at least he tried to help). The only characters who really do something heroes would do are the retired reporter and his wife. They do the right thing all the way through, trying to help this injured man on their doorstep and make sure the world finds out about something terrible, and they’re killed for their trouble.

You know what? I’m not done asking questions yet. What happened after the end of the movie, when the Clonus project was exposed? Paul notes in the Amazing Colossal Transplanted Sci-Fi Channel Episode Guide that since the villains of the movie are rich old white men, they probably got their way regardless, but what if they didn’t? What happened to all those clones? They have no skills or real education, and have never had to take care of their own needs. If they’re going to get jobs and apartments and so forth it’ll be a real steep learning curve.

Are the clones aware of sex? When the two of them are making out at the beginning they say things like “I’ve grown accustomed to you” and “I like you touching me,” which imply that they really have no idea what the logical conclusion is. Yet when Richard and Lina spend their night camping in the woods it’s implied that they went a little further than that. I hate to praise The Island of all movies, but it at least dealt with some of this stuff!

What we’re left with in Parts: the Clonus Horror is another one of those annoying movies in which somebody had a really great idea and yet couldn’t be bothered to think it through properly before rushing to a final draft. This is always a tragedy, because so many people put so much time, effort, and money into making a movie. It’s a shame to see it wasted on something that is fundamentally unfinished.

#mst3k #reviews #that guy from the university of minnesota #parts: the clonus horror #70s #why is there always a rick

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