#the point is to recognize when good things happen and commit them to memory. so that u have evidence that good things happen

[sweaterspoons]

i've added nearly seven pages of writing into my happy journal, and ohhhhhh my god it feels so good. if you, like me, are depressed and struggle to recognize joy, i cannot recommend a happy journal enough.

[honeygrahambitch]

"No witnesses then?" Will asked as he entered Jack's office with Hannibal closely behind him.

Jack looked defeated. The whiskey bottle on his desk was the proof. He was probably waiting to call it a day and drown his frustration into a glass of whiskey.

"There is a witness. We brought him in but by the time we will interrogate him, our serial killer will have committed three other crimes."

"May I ask why we are not interrogating him now?" Hannibal asked.

"We need a translator. He doesn't speak English. Took the Bureau a few hours only to find one and he can make it here in a few days."

"What does he speak then? There's a high chance Hannibal speaks it." Will commented.

"I don't speak every language on earth, darling."

"I don't speak Lithuanian."

"Lithuanian?" Jack inquired.

"Aren't you Lithuanian, doctor?" Will asked.

"I am but I haven't spoken it in years. I doubt I can be of any help."

"So be it, then."

"Doctor." Jack started. Will and Hannibal recognized Jack's persuasive voice and Will immediately regretted opening his mouth. There was no way out now. "It would be of great help if we got the physical features of our killer. I am only asking you to try. It's the only way I will be able to sleep at night."

Hannibal looked at Will, then at Jack.

-

Jack and Will watched Hannibal from behind the glass of the interrogation room.

Hannibal spoke fluently with only few hesitations. There was something else that Will couldn't point towards. He felt bad about making Hannibal help with the case. When he had said he couldn't speak Lithuanian, Will knew he wasn't being modest about his skills. He had said that just because he hadn't wanted to speak Lithuanian.

Will detected some sort of awkwardness from Hannibal in the first few minutes but he masked it well. The discussion went smoothly.

Jack was nodding pleased.

"And he was saying he can't do it." Jack commented, paying so much attention to what was happening in front of them that one could think he was understanding every word. "We might catch this one by tonight, Will."

"Hopefully."

And they did. A bit later than what Jack had expected but Hannibal's report had been of great use.

-

"You caught him." Will said as the doctor was pouring him a glass of wine.

"You and Jack did."

"We wouldn't have without your help. It made a difference."

Hannibal said nothing, which was unusual and which reminded Will of his earlier eerie feeling.

"I'm sorry about making you do it. I figured you weren't comfortable."

"You didn't make me do anything. You know how persuasive Jack can get."

"How was it?" He wasn't sure wether Hannibal would want to talk about it.

"Quite an experience, I'd say. Words I have not pronounced in years. I might have made a lot of mistakes. Good thing you and Jack couldn't tell."

"It was more than a skill issue. Words have their way of taking you to certain places. And his accent was extremely authentic."

Will smiled softly. "I am sure your Lithuanian skills are better than mine."

Hannibal brought his glass of wine to his lips and smelled it thoughtfully.

"It took you down the halls of your memory palace."

"And it opened some locked doors."

"Did you manage to close them back already?"

"Not yet. I might linger in there for a while."

Will grabbed his fork and played with the sushi roll that was resting on his plate.

"It's something he said before leaving the interrogation room. He asked me why I can speak Lithuanian. I told him that I am, in fact, Lithuanian. He was very surprised by that. He said I didn't sound Lithuanian at all." Hannibal explained and took a sip from his glass.

"You don't have to keep to yourself." He said, sensing the amount of thoughts running through Hannibal's mind. "What else bothers you?"

"How did that make you feel?" Will asked genuinely curious and was relieved to see Hannibal cracking a smile. He knew Will hated that question.

"For a second it made me question what I am. The place you are born in doesn't define that. Nor does your family, be it dead or alive."

"Then nature and nurture have no power on the individual?"

"I wouldn't choose either. I would have said that they both have a role in defining who we are."

"Implying that you no longer believe that?"

"I kept reflecting on this subject while I was cooking. I didn't come to a satisfying answer. Then you knocked."

"And?"

"And here I was going to say something inappropriate. I can't now that you made this confession."

"And I found all the answers I needed. I see myself in you. And that is more than what Lithuania will ever mean to me. And more than what nature and nurture can explain."

"What was it?"

"Today I learnt that listening to you speaking Lithuanian does certain things to me."

Hannibal put down his fork and knife, his lips slightly parted. He didn't try to hide his surprise.

"Well." He said thoughtfully. "I had made up my mind I would never use it again after today. But this changes everything."

[good-beanswrites]

I talked about my Milgram actors theory earlier, but @amugoffandoms reminded me I also have a little emotional support au version of the idea I’ve been meaning to chat about! It's actually not a typical actors au -- the canon events still happen, but are staged by the in-universe Milgram organization.

(Edit, now with a fic!)

Just like in canon, the organization has a mysterious/supernatural ability to identify and track down ten specific people at their breaking point. In this au, though, it's ten people who could have committed crimes soon. They discreetly reach out to these individuals, requesting for them to be actors in their experiment. They say there will be someone playing a prison guard, and explain the premise. With a bit of coaxing or bribing for a few, they all accept.

Milgram ensures these newfound “prisoners” don’t need to change many details about their lives – the less lies to keep track of, the easier it would be for these ordinary people to pull off such an extensive con. 

Some of them are exactly as they were right before their murders, such as Yuno, Fuuta, Muu, and Kotoko. Haruka, his sister, and Amane did go through traumatic abuse, but it was Milgram that pulled them out of the situation before they resorted to murder. Mikoto is/has been aware of his alters for a while at this point.

Some of the others are taken from their lives after things that could have ended fatally turned out alright: Shidou’s family got into an accident but all recovered; Milgram picked up on his private realization that he would have done anything to save them, were the damage worse. Mahiru and Kazui’s partners attempted/considered suicide, but did not succeed. In Mahiru’s case, they reached a friendship despite breaking up. I still don’t know enough about Kazui’s wife, but I like to think they’re pretty separate now. 

The ten prisoners weren’t allowed to meet beforehand, but they individually collaborated with the Milgram team to write the lyrics for their t1 songs and film their videos. I'll mention more about the other actors later, but the filming process is a lot of fun. Though the topics confront them with some unsavory thoughts about themselves, it's a good time singing and acting and getting the giggles on set and everything.

Milgram pulls Es from wherever they were for whatever reason, wipes their memory, and drops them into the prison. The prisoners are unaware that Es didn't come willingly, as they all did.

Once the experiment begins, everyone’s interactions that we’ve seen to this point are genuine. The prisoners get to know each other, while they come to terms with the fact that themselves and these others all had murderous potential. Their personalities, behaviors, and stories from their lives are all true. In the interrogations, they speak honestly to Es about their values and choices. The only faked things are the actual references to the murders, and the “invisible force” that they pretend to hit when acting in violence. Mikoto is instructed to use a bit of violence during his interrogation, though Kotoko sneaking in wasn’t scripted – she genuinely had her concerns about his character and acted accordingly. 

While Es sleeps after T1, the prisoners are treated the same regardless of verdict. They provide the team with their genuine thoughts about one another to decide what the staged incidents should be. Kotoko doesn’t actually hate the guilty prisoners, but she recognizes she would’ve wanted to take justice into her own hands in a real situation. Amane is very upset but Es' verdict, but the team helps her dramatize her transformation a bit. Haruka and Muu genuinely get that close. Yuno does wish to be left alone.

They film their second trial videos, now allowed to be around the other prisoners as they do so. They also invite people in their life to come in and play their victims. Yes, it’s just as awkward as it sounds. This is where the prisoners do their real reflection – they think about Es’ verdict for them and what they could have been capable of. There’s a bit of relief from both parties knowing that things will turn out alright now that Milgram intervened (ironic, I know, but this is my fix-it hehe). Shidou’s kids are excited to be filmed, not really understanding the context. Haruka once again works with an actor playing his younger self, a bit put off by how similar they look and the memories he bring back. Haruka’s mother, Rei, and Amane’s cult members (if they appear) are some of the only characters played by strangers, though they do look strikingly similar to the real people. Fuuta’s victim is also played by a stranger. Things are still tense with Hinako, but she agrees to appear. 

The team helps the prisoners fake injuries with lots bandages and slings. Then they wake Es. The same is repeated for T2/T3.

Now, I’ve played out a few different paths depending on my angst tolerance at the moment – sometimes Es goes through with the third trial verdicts and is forced to watch the executions (not realizing they're cleverly staged). Sometimes they refuse, finding a way to stop the whole experiment. Sometimes the prisoners realize that Es has been an unwilling participant, and bring the experiment to a stop themselves. Sometimes someone jams a wrench in the mv machine and try to blow it up in order for everything to end before final verdicts.

Because of limited details, the ending can play out however one wants. But my go-to is that Es wake up sometime afterwards in a clean facility filled with scientists. They’re brought to an interrogation room – this time on the other side of the questioning. They’re asked about their motivations, actions, emotions, choices, verdicts (or the reason they rebelled at the very end). A few doors down, the prisoners are being asked similar questions of self-reflection and morality. 

Es demands to know what’s going on, while the team tries to assure them that the prisoners are all fine. Es doesn’t buy this, though. They know what kind of mind games the experiment has tried to pull, and can’t tell what’s truth or lie anymore. Things get heated as they demand to see the prisoners. Meanwhile, the prisoners are getting worked up asking about Es. If they haven't already, this is when they learn that Es was an actual prisoner there the whole time. The last time they were together the situation was very intense, and they’re all incredibly worried about them. 

In the end, they manage to break out of their rooms and reunite in the middle of the facility, and Es is shocked. All ten are alive and well, even those they may have seen die. No eyes or limbs are missing. They’re all laughing and getting along, no matter what kinds of fights they got into between trials. Even more shocking is when the victims join them later – also all alive and happy. 

The ending has a bit of unavoidable angst since Es would be pretty fucked up by the whole experiment. They’d struggle with trust issues and knowing what’s reality. However, it’s still an overwhelmingly happy ending. They get to befriend the prisoners and their families outside of the painful context they met in. Regretting their ignorance of the situation, the prisoners decide to make up for lost time and spend a lot of positive, quality time with Es. The kids are finally allowed to play, and the they finally let the adults act a bit protective over them. This is when the found family completely kicks in lol. Es gets to sleep easy knowing they are all alive and happy, they receive all their memories again, and they get to return home to their own family.

I added it to a reblog but editing with @/qrevo's tags because this is what I was looking for but couldn't quite pin down to make it healing for Es too:

[orange-cheetah]

[fantasy au drabble, ft. suo & his brother]

Suo Hayato had been seven when he was chosen as the year's sacrifice.

It should not surprise him to see how differently the villagers treated him now - after all, the same thing had happened last year. A girl of six had been carried up the mountain, and Suo had joined the solemn procession delivering her to her death.

But this? This he did not expect.

"Just checking the knots," his brother answered. "Hayato can be a very cunning little fox, after all."

The guard seemed to agree with this point. "Make it quick."

"Very well."

Hayato was pulled into a sitting position; he wriggled his fingers to get some feeling back into them.

"Please..." He looked up at his brother in desperation. Surely, surely..? Surely he would not let this happen to Hayato?

His brother had held his hand so tightly during the procession last year.

Now he didn't even meet his eye, tugging at the ropes methodically. Hayato lowered his head, angry at the weakness he had shown. He was trained to be dignified at all times.

Something sharp and cold was pressed into his hands. Hayato felt it being maneuvered until it was out of sight, hidden by his bound hands and the thick coils of rope.

Could it be..? His heart banged painfully in his chest.

"Alright," his brother called, pushing Hayato down again.

"No love lost between you two, huh?" the guard sneered, but by then his brother was already halfway down the steps.

-

The moon was a pale orb between the branches of the dead tree above him. Hayato stared up at it, set out on the cold stone slab like the main course on a banquet table.

"I would like a word with him." A familiar voice caught his attention.

"No."

"It won't be long; I'll stay within sight the whole time." His brother suddenly put on an expression Hayato had never seen before. "Please."

Submissive, imploring. Somehow, that scared Hayato more than anything. He found himself struggling to breathe.

"Fine." With an annoyed jerk of the head, permission was granted.

His brother set up a transparent barrier around the slab as he drew near. Hayato recognized it - it stopped sound from travelling out from within its perimeter.

"You'll doom the whole village," Hayato said. If - no, when - he escaped, the beast would surely bring its wrath down upon the villagers.

"That remains to be seen." His brother smiled sadly. "And I find myself unable to care."

Hayato wanted to say something more, but no sound made it past his lips.

"Run, and never look back. Don't come back to the village. Not for me, or anything else." A hand settled upon his head. "You've been brave, but now you will have to be braver. Promise me, Hayato."

Hayato was desperately trying to commit the warmth of his brother's hand to memory. "I promise."

"Good." The hand left. "Have you started work on the ropes?"

Hayato shook his head. "Didn't want anyone to be suspicious." Of you.

A sigh. "I knew it. You've always been so kind, Hayato. That may be your downfall one day."

"But not today."

"Not today," his brother agreed with a flicker of a smile.

Later, after the villagers had turned their backs on him and left him to his fate, Hayato positioned the knife and sawed at the ropes with single-minded determination.

He did not stop when birds erupted from the canopy somewhere nearby. Neither did he stop when faint reverberations traveled up the stone slab, signaling the arrival of some great beast.

He did not stop until the last coils of rope fell from him.

Suo Hayato was trained to be dignified at all times.

But above all, he was trained to survive.

[cipheramnesia]

In The Thing (1982) we see a demonstration that it is possible for a "jump scare" to be artistic and complex.

For anyone not familiar, a jump scare in a horror movie usually follows a moment of relative quiet and tension with something that is sudden, shocking, and significantly louder (usually accompanied by a sharp sound in the background music to emphasize the moment). It's like someone shouting "boo!" and for many it's the least favorite part of horror.

The Thing has two major jump scares: the defibrillator scene and the blood test scene. They're fascinating to me because they never fail. Even when I know they're coming and about when, they make me jump with real shock and surprise.

I couldn't say exactly what it is about them. Partly it's perfect timing. The moment of shock happens just before or just after it seems like it should. It fools my memory so that I'm not prepared for the actual moment. It's also on the actors. Most actors have a hard time not telegraphic what they expect with eye movement or body language, but somehow the actors in the thing are fully committed to the point they don't read as if they're waiting. I suspect also there's a difference in camera work involved designed to direct the audience away from what they expect, which relates to the quality of the movie effects. Commonly horror movies need to cut between effects to make them work on film, but the effects of the thing are good enough that they can be on film longer, they can go further, and take the audience by surprise because part of us has been conditioned to recognize what movies use to make effect work look better. Because it had such impossibly good effects, The Thing gets around this by simply showing you the effect.

Anyway, I think it's neat.

[the-stage-manager]

IF I DONT TELL SOMEBODY ABOUT MY TAV IM GOING TO EXPLODE

Here he is, his name is Urzire. He is (was) a pirate.

(Look at how pretty he is in these blue robes. He's so tranquil UwU)

He is a tiefling charletan bard, college of swords, former pirate captain. He fell in love with Astarion while committing scams. Unfortunately he has a condition where he only gets the Brain CellTM during the full moon (dumb of ass)

He was actually born 150ish years before the events of BG3, in a small village. His parents were farmers and he has 8 siblings and is the second youngest. He was 5 when his younger brother was born, and made it his life's mission to protect him. His parents were farmers and, unfortunately, their village was razed when Urzire was 15. He lost his entire family, and was captured and sold as a slave.

For the next seven years, he labored deep beneath the surface of the earth mining for coal and rare minerals. At one point, he and a handful of others were trapped in a cave in, where they were stuck for over three weeks waiting for rescue. So... Yeah. He's not a big fan of the Underdark. Or the caves.

He secured his freedom after seven years and found work as a sailor. Though TBH he wasn't very good at the whole "honesty" and "not stealing" thing and he was a within like three months. It was a real quick turn around.

He met Astarion in a bar—Astarion, at this point, was only eighty years or so into his slavery, so he was, admittedly, in a different mindset. A little more desperate, a little less jaded, just starting to lose hope. They met at a ball Cazador dragged his spawn to; Astarion claimed to be a magistrate, Urzire claimed to also be a magistrate, and they then proceeded to seduce each other. Astarion wanted a victim for Cazador, and Urzire wanted a victim to hold as ransom. Unfortunately neither succeeded but, by sheer happenstance, they met up again in a bar months later.

Look, it's the perfect meet-cute: boy meets boy, boy1 confesses to being a vampire, boy2 confesses to having a hostage in the basement that needs to die so "I guess I wouldn't mind so terribly much if you happened to steal her away to eat..." Look, they both think they're manipulating each other, okay? Astarion thinks he's putting on a sob story to gain a powerful ally, Urzire thinks he's doing favors for a powerful vampire who will be in his debt. UNFORTUNATELY THEY BOTH CATCH FEELINGS FOR EACH OTHER.

Honestly, who could have seen it coming?

The truth is revealed, they fall in love, Urzire makes plans to kill Cazador, he also reunites with his long-lost little brother (who is married and has. Tiny baby eee!) It's all very lovely and nice.

Except then it goes to shit.

His ship sinks, and he washes ashore on a tiny island in the Feywilds, because the fey who rules the island, Callipso, fell in love with him and wants to make him her husband. He resists as best he can, but Urzire is trapped with her, and she's a fey. She charms him, and takes what she wants, even though he doesn't want to give it. Every time they are intimate, he loses a piece of himself—literally. His skin turns grey, he loses his ability to play the violin, to sing, to do much of anything, and he's losing his memories. After 12 months, Callipso finally releases him and when he washes up on the shore back in the mortal plane, he barely remembers who he even is. All he knows is that he's in love with somebody, and they're suffering, and he has to find them.

He wanders aimlessly around the city, like a zombie, before a Nautoloid appears out of nowhere and BAHM! Tadpoled.

Except, here's the thing: time passes differently in the Feywilds. While only 12 months passed for Urzire, 120 years passed in the mortal plane.

And Urzire has no idea. In fact, when he meets Astarion, he doesn't recognize him, his memories are too fractured. But Astarion looks at Urzire and sees the ghost of a man who abandoned him, who betrayed him, who left him to rot for over a century. He doesn't believe it at first. But once he realizes... It's bad. He bites the Tiefling that night with 100% the intention to drink him dry. But Urzire seems completely in the dark and that throws him off.

They fall in love slowly. Urzire continues to show Astarion relentless compassion and, at first, the vampire wants none of it. But slowly, he warms up to it. He pieces the story together from the bits and pieces Urzire tells around the campfire—the Tiefling was just as trapped as he was, in many ways. He's still bitter... But it fades. He falls in love.

By the time they reach Baldur's Gate, Uzire still doesn't recognize him, but he's fallen in love, and he feels guilty about it—after all, he loves somebody back in the city, somebody who needs him.

Astarion tries to hint at the reality of the situation but doesn't have the courage to tell him outright. So when they reach the city and Urzire realizes how much time has passed... It's a doozy.

But it gets worse. Remember that bit where Urzire reunited with his long lost little brother, who is married and has a child? Well, when Urzire disappeared, Astarion didn't handle it well. He hoped for a long, long time but eventually gave up and his hope died and became rage. He took his anger out on Urzire's brother by stealing their young child in the dead of night (Astarion had been invited into the home, he had been Urzire's partner after all) and presenting him to Cazador to be eaten.

It's a secret that Astarion intended on taking with him to his grave. Until... They arrive in Cazador's palace and three guesses who's in that cell with the rest of the malnourished spawn? That's right. It's the little boy. Urzire doesn't actually recognize him, he'd only been a baby when he saw him last, as Calliope fried his memories pretty badly. In fact, Astarion doesn't even realize he's in there because he's too emotionally charged after the confrontation with Sebastian.

But after Cazador is dead, and they're climbing up the stairs to leave the palace, the realization hits Astarion in the chest like a fucking freight train. To his credit (perhaps he's only able to do it because he's already so emotionally numb), he tells Urzire and they go find the little boy, and Urzire insists on taking him back to camp.

He and Astarion do stay partners, even though their relationship is a little bit strained for a while after, understandably so. But they work it out, and Urzire goes on to adopt his nephew. Instead of living in the underground with the spawn after the game, he and Astarion and the boy immediately head to Waterdeep with Gale (because they are homeless lol) to start researchih cures for vampirism. Which they eventually find! Because it really isn't all that hard to cure vampirism in DnD.

So that's it. That's the story of my son.

[askamydaily]

My final syndicated advice column

Well, sports fans — my last syndicated “Ask Amy” advice column drops tomorrow (don’t you hate that expression?), and so I thought I would give you loyal subscribers a sneak peek at what I have to say.

I’ve known this moment was coming for the last several months, and the need I’ve felt to try to deliver some final thoughts summing up my experience over the last 21 years has been pretty strong.

Two things tend to happen to me when I’m under pressure: First, I fantasize about quitting, and after that — my mind goes

BLANK.

After that, this is what I tell myself: 

I say ….

No one really cares.

And then I push up my sleeves and try to get the job done.

This particular column was pretty daunting. I have been feeling very emotional, and I was writing it during a time when readers were already saying goodbye to me. 

Wow — what a wonderful connection we have shared! Of course, that connection will continue, but through different channels (this being one), and through different work. 

Read on — and please do share your own thoughts and comments.

Dear Readers: Since announcing my departure from writing this syndicated column, I have heard from scores of people across various platforms, thanking me for over two decades of offering advice and wishing me well in my “retirement.” I am very touched and grateful for this outpouring of support.

The thing is – I don’t think of myself as retiring.

I have led a constant, reliable life. I will read even the worst book to the last page. I have never voluntarily left a relationship, an obligation, or any employment.

(I can barely stand to leave a room!)

But I’m leaving this seven-day-a-week commitment – because I want to, and because it’s time.

My intention is to move on and to do other meaningful work.

Writing this column has given me a glimpse into thousands of lives.

The insight I have gained has inspired and empowered me to listen to my own counsel, to be authentic in my actions, and to – basically – be in charge of my own life, as much as possible.

Showing myself the door at this moment reflects the privilege of good health, strong relationships, years of steady employment, and some prudent financial choices. I’m very aware of how lucky I am.

My favorite way to envision this work is to picture families reading these columns together at the breakfast table and weighing in with their own points of view before reading mine.

And yes, there are still parents and grandparents out there who clip the newspaper and send pertinent columns to kids in college or summer camp, or tape it to refrigerators and bathroom mirrors.

I’ve heard from health care workers, police officers, fire fighters and office workers who say they discuss the issues raised in the column in the break room.

I love knowing that, and I’ll miss having coffee with you.

The questions raised in this space have been used as teaching tools in middle schools, memory care units, ESL classes and prisons. These are perfect venues to discuss ethical, human-sized dilemmas.

On my last day communicating with you in this way, I feel compelled to try to sum up my experience by offering some lasting wisdom, but I’ve got no fresh insight. Everything I know has been distilled from wisdom gathered elsewhere.

Boxer Mike Tyson famously said, “Everybody has a plan, until they get punched ….” Punches are inevitable. But I do believe I’ve learned some universal truths that might soften the blows.

They are:

Show up for people.

Be gentle with yourself – and with others.

Lead with kindness, and recognize kindness when you receive it.

Reserve your harshest judgment. Sit on your worst thoughts about other people and consider the consequences before expressing them.

Be of service by finding something, or someone, to take care of.

Find creative ways to express your feelings.

Admit to your faults and failings, and resolve to do better.

Ask for forgiveness.

Work hard not to be defined by the worst things that have happened to you.

Recognize even the smallest blessings and express gratitude.

Be kind to receptionists, restaurant servers, dental hygienists, and anyone who needs to physically touch or serve you in order to do their job.

Understand that there are times when it is necessary to give up.

Spend time in nature.

Identify, develop, or explore your core ethical and/or spiritual beliefs.

Recognize and detach from your own need to control someone else.

Respect boundaries – yours and others’.

Seek the counsel of people who are wiser than you are. Ask their advice, and listen.

I sometimes supply “scripts” for people who have asked me for the right words to say, and so I thought I would boil these down to some of the most important statements I believe anyone can make.

They are:

I need help.

I’m sorry.

I forgive you.

I love you, just as you are.

I’m on your side.

You’re safe.

You are not alone.

Now that I’m near the end of my movie, I hope you’ll pay attention to the end credits.

Many thanks to Chicago friends and colleagues, including Jim Warren, who found me, Ann Marie Lipinski, who hired me, Steve Mandell, who represented me, and editors Mary Elson, Bill O’Connell and Carrie Williams. Thank you to “Gentleman Jack” Barry, who softened my exit.

And especially to Tracy Clark, a talented novelist who has helped to correct my faulty thinking and grammar for many years.

Finally, much gratitude to faithful readers, who can find me on social media and through my regular newsletter.

Onward!

Love,

Amy

[windovvaving]

montego dalian armas mariscal.

triggers: gifted kid burnout

headcanons / history:

born to boy chains of fortune member alvaro armas mariscal & a groupie after a one night stand, montego spent his formative years on the road. the band broke up before montego even really could form permanent memories, so he really only remembers denver.

not to say he doesn't have memories of touring, they were just all in the summer when school was out. made those "what did you kids do last summer" questions from teachers real interesting.

even without his mother, montego never felt unloved. he had his dad & that was enough for him.

spent his school years coasting through, never really needing to study. his best subject was always math, the equations making straightforward sense.

every teacher said he'd make a good accountant since he was so quick at math.

when montego hit sophmore year of high school, he started struggling. things weren't coming as easily anymore. he had to get tutoring to pass with a grade he was proud of.

his whole life had been about math. it was the one thing he was super good at & now he was mediocre. the same as everyone else.

this led to him trying to find another thing to excel at. he never really found it. it was like that drive that made him good at things had disappeared.

when it comes to what he wanted as a career, montego has tried it all: all of the arts, hockey & baseball, finance, truck driving, podcasting. nothing has really brought him that spark that makes him want to turn it into a career. the closest he ever got was babysitting, but unless he found someone to nanny for fulltime, it's not exactly a paycheck he could live off of.

which is why he still lives with his dad.

montego found a job as a host at an upscale restaurant not too long of a drive from home. it's not much, but it's a paycheck from a place he doesn't hate being at.

he still doesn't know what career he wants, leading to feelings of being left behind as he looks around & sees so many others his age settling into the rest of their lives.

now that school is over, montego is able to leave all the feelings about needing perfection & never finding it behind. he can chill out now that the pressure of a grade is over.

however, that's kind of led to him being a bit too laid-back. as long as nothing's on fire & no one's injured beyond repair, he's just going to let it happen. very laissez-faire.

there is one exception to his laissez-faire attitude: the twins. he loves his little siblings to death!! he never knew how much he would want to be an older brother until esperanza and bastien were born around two years ago. nothing's going to happen to them while he's around.

if presented w/ an open-ended question, he'll waffle around the answer. but if it's a yes or no, he's more likely to give a straight answer.

once he's committed to doing something, it's getting done. this can be both positive (you'll never have to worry about him forgetting your plans) & a negative (he'll make the decision to try a new hobby & even if he hates it, he'll spend all night finishing the project).

wanted connections:

a maternal figure! not necessarily a woman ( or fem-presenting enby ) who took on a motherly role for him in his childhood, but more so a woman who was around every so often so montego latched on.

acquaintances! people who wouldn't call each other friends, but are on a first name basis.

friends! he's been in denver pretty much his whole life, so anyone who came at any point could be his friend. could be from school, work, hanging around town, the neighborhood, etc.

regulars! those who come into the restaurant often enough that they could recognize each other on sight.

romantic interest! i imagine montego & the romantic interest had been pining for a while & they've finally broken the seal & started dating, but am totally up for other ideas if you'd like to ship.

if you’re hearing QUARTER LIFE CRISIS by TAYLOR BICKETT playing, you have to know MONTEGO ARMAS MARISCAL (CISMALE; HE/HIM) is near by! the TWENTY-FOUR year old RESTAURANT HOST has been in denver for, like, PRETTY MUCH HIS WHOLE LIFE. they’re known to be quite RECKLESS, but being RELIABLE seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble TYLER ALVAREZ. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those WAFFLE HOUSE AT FOUR AM, LAISSEZ-FAIRE, & NOTEBOOKS FULL OF FAILED IDEAS vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the DOWNTOWN DISTRCIT long enough!

[knightprincess]

Forgive Me (Echo x Medic Reader) Part 11

Words: 1.9K Warning: major character death, may course some readers to cry 

"General, If I may, I don't think it would be a good idea to pull Snap into this" spoke Rex, care flooding the legendary captain's voice. In recent months things had gone array with the 501st. Commander Tano had chosen to leave the Jedi Order following being falsely accused and put on trial for a crime she hadn't committed. She'd explained her reasoning when visiting (Y/N), and both women were determined to keep their friendship going. After that Umbara had been cruel, to say the least, Pong Krell had been just as reckless with (Y/N)'s life as he had been with the troopers he dismissed so easily. There had been other nasty battles in between and so many troopers had been lost.

Recently something happened with Tup. He'd seemingly shot another Jedi General at point-blank range, all while in a trance-like state and muttering the same four words over and over. Good Soldiers Follow Orders. He'd been easily tackled and dragged away to safety by Fives when all were ordered to retreat. At first, Tup aggressively refused to allow anyone near him, even his brothers, Snap had been the first he'd not tried to attack, instead, he mentioned nightmares to her. After that he'd allowed Rex, Kix, and Fives to enter the small cell he was kept in, he recognized them as brothers again rather than traitors to the emperor. Shortly after General Skywalker had entered the room, Tup seemed almost normal but confused about what was happening, displaying no memory of what happened or what he'd done. Although his aggressive side had returned the moment another Jedi General had come into view. Shortly after he began to mutter the four words on repeat again. Good Soldiers Follow Orders. 

Things had only taken a turn for the worst upon the decision being made to send Tup back to Kamino. The Seperatist suddenly seemed interested in getting their hands on Tup, they'd been successful at first, but so was the rescue mission Rex, Fives, and Anakin launched to retrieve the disorientated trooper. After which Fives had requested to escort Tup back to Kamino. If only Rex knew that was the last time he'd see Fives before everything went off the rails. 

"We've just got Snap back to how she was. Throwing her into the middle of this will push her back to square one" voiced Rex with concern lacing through his voice. At the same time, the great captain understood why his general had suggested bringing Snap along. She had a connection with all clones few others had. Not to mention she was likely the only one who knew for sure where Fives was and could tell if he'd suffered a mental break as the Kaminoans were claiming. 

"I understand that Rex. But we need (Y/N)'s help if this is going to be solved with the best outcome" simply responded Anakin, his own concern alight in his icy eyes. He was already unsure about everything, even more so with the Chancellor claiming Fives had attempted to assassinate him. There was no doubt there was a certain danger, but Snap was the only one all involved, including Fives, trusted to be neutral ground in the whole mess. The only one who could truly get to the bottom of everything with the needed swiftness and kindness. 

"I'll find her, let her know everything on the way to the rendezvous point" solemnly commented Rex before turning on his heels and leaving. The feeling of dread, gripped him as he thought about all the hardships faced during the war, all the brothers lost. All the battles were put before them all as the odds built up against them. Public opinion had only gotten worse the longer the war had stretched on, even members of the Jedi turned on them, as fellow clones began to defect and question orders. Slowly it appeared things were falling apart, but what scared Rex most was the republic wasn't falling apart on the battlefield but in the very constitute meant to help the people. The Senate.

As to be expected, Rex had found (Y/N) catching up on forgotten paperwork, she'd been in her office ignoring Octavius's existence as was the norm.  She'd been so engrossed in her work and ignoring the cryptographer, she hadn't noticed Rex enter until he'd cleared his throat to gain her attention. Her friendly smile faded the moment her eyes landed on him, almost as if she knew something was out of place or something bad was about to happen. 

"The general asks you to accompany us to find Fives. Your expertise will help with the current situation" sadly spoke Rex, not being able to push away the dread building up. All of this had happened so quickly. Tup had died, Fives had discovered something, Shaak Ti had requested for the council to see something, apparently, Fives had gone on the run after attempting to assassinate the Chancellor. Nothing seemed right, it was almost as if someone was hiding in the background, pulling the strings as if all of them were pieces on a chessboard. 

(Y/N) didn't say a word, instead, she silently moved to log out of her computer before following Rex from the medbay, her heart in her stomach. Somehow she already knew something wasn't how it first appeared, something was wrong and out of place. Yet she struggled to figure out exactly what was making her think and feel like that. The moment the pair reached the landing bay, Anakin had greeted them both, his attention fleetingly turned to Octavius who had once again followed. This time he tried to cover the obvious with a simple offer of his services, even when it was clear his skill set would be useless in resolving the situation at hand. 

No one spoke a word during the short journey to the coordinates Fives had given Kix. Snap couldn't bring herself to admit she recognized the seemingly abandoned warehouse, it had once belonged to her late uncle Seth. A warehouse for the business he'd successfully run way back when. Anakin and Rex had entered first, only when they were sure it was safe would either one could (Y/N) the all-clear the enter. The longer Snap had to wait, the stronger her fear of losing someone else love got. A fear that found its feet in reality when she heard voices from inside her uncle's warehouse, Rex trying to calm a situation, talking with sense. Anakin seemingly struggled to stay neutral when Fives made rambled accusations. And Fives, sounding lost and confused as if his compose has become scrabbled and he struggled to find his bearings again. His heart was in the right place but his mind struggled to make sense of it all. 

Without a second thought or regret (Y/N) ran into the warehouse, she had no regard for her own safety, only the wellbeing of her friends. When she discovered where the three were, she found Rex and Anakin trapped in the middle of a ray-shielded circle, Fives just in front of them waving one of Rex's blasters around as if trying to locate an unseen force creeping upon him. The Arc Trooper seemed almost frightened to see her there, as if he was scared whatever he was running from, would capture and hurt her. 

"Fives" called (Y/N) with calmness, her hands held up as if to surrender to her friend, thrust showing she was unarmed, weaponless. "I know you didn't have a mental break as the Kaminoans said. I know you didn't try and assassinate the Chancellor" softly spoke Snap, noticing he seemed to stop and listen, slowly lowering his weapon, as if relieved someone believed him. "Tell me what you discovered, and I will do everything in my power to make sure you're not ignored" voiced the civvi medic, ignoring Anakin calling her name with concern as if he was skeptical about her choice to give credit to Fives' brash accusations. 

"There's a plot" started Fives, holding his head seconds later as if struggling to find the words to explain what he had discovered. "Inhibitor chips, clones, Kaminoans, destroy the Jedi. The chancellor, he's behind it all" muttered the Arc Trooper, suddenly raising his gun again, this time turning around and pointing it at the members of the Coruscant Guard. He stood in front of where Snap was as if protecting her from the Coruscant Guard, protecting her from the unseen force his mind was telling him was there. "Get away from me" yelled Fives, pointing his gun directly at the members of the Coruscant Guard, his mind becoming more hazed and scrambled by the second. 

"Don't Shoot!" yelled Snap, not being clear about whom her words were directed toward. Before her words could defuse the situation, Fox fired a single bolt, shooting Fives in the chest. The warehouse had fallen deathly silent as if no one could comprehend what had happened. (Y/N) quickly rushed to Fives, ignoring all others there, as her instinct to save a life kicked in. Even when she knew the odds of survival, she couldn't stand by and do nothing when her friend needed her. Fox soon shot out the ray shield holding Anakin and Rex in place, allowing Rex to join Snap at Fives' side. 

"This is the end" muttered Fives, as his fate began to dawn on him. He was going to see Droidbate, Cutup, and Hevy again. He would finally be reunited with Echo, his brother lost so long ago in the midst of the ongoing war. Finally, the Domino squad would be reunited, and peaceful. "Forget the mission, oh nightmare" whispered the Arc Trooper, as his attention briefly turned to (Y/N), knowing she would understand, Tup had told her. "I'm free" were his final words, before his body gave up on him. Before he left the living behind and broke the hearts of his brothers, friends, and Snap. 

Snap didn't bother to hide her tears or her heartache. Instead, she simply grabbed hold of Fives' shoulders and shook him. Willing him to wake up. Her mind told her he was already gone, she'd failed to save another she loved and cared for, but her breaking heart refused to accept it. Rex held on to Fives' body, closing his eyes to it appeared he was sleeping, he struggled to come to terms with what happened, yet somehow he found some truth in something Fives had said. 

Anakin had been the one to pull Snap away, as the Coruscant Guard circled around Rex and Fives, Fox dropping his blaster as if disgusted with himself. The Jedi Knight only held on tighter when (Y/N) tried to get away from him, holding her closer as she cried. Regret shone in his eyes, he should have listened to Rex, he shouldn't have involved the fragile medic. 

"Let her go" called Rex, when Snap finally got free from Anakin's secure grip. He knew she wouldn't wander too far, she never did. The call of duty was always stronger with Snap, as was her loyalty to the troopers who needed her, and to her friends and family. He doubted whether she'd go anywhere outside her normal hiding places, if the captain had to guess he'd say she would go to the memorial to the fallen, if only so she could remember friends lost and speak to Echo. Either that or she'd hide away from the galaxy in her apartment until she was needed again. Rex knew others would keep tabs on her, especially Wolffe and Cody, both of which often acted protective older brothers. 

Masterlist

[razzamult]

First Post, and hard lessons.

It's been a long time since I've blogged, I used to have an account with blogger.com (remember that?) back in the early 2000's So trying this out again is interesting, seeing what's different, what's similar.

I wanted to start this blog to record some personal thoughts that I've had over the last few years, so there will be some serious posts, including this one, but I do want to lighten things up inbetween.

I feel like I've written and re-written this a dozen times in my head, but it's time to commit and write something down. for those of you who know me, I want to tell a story and maybe you've heard some bits of it already, for any others who happen along? it's a story of anxiety, depression, burnout, a new path maybe? mostly i write this for my own benefit, to remind myself of where I've been & where I'd like to go, and where i don't want to go back to.

But first, some context. I've been working (full time) in IT for….16 years? I think? (give or take), and I'll be honest - I've had enough, and i want out of IT. I remember a time when computers were "simple" beasts (relatively speaking), the earliest memories of using a computer was my mum's 386 (it was a while ago ok!), she was studying a degree, but we had a number of DOS games installed on it (lots of apogee shareware), over time that computer got upgraded, new CPU, more ram, bigger hard drive, Windows 95! that was new & exciting! I remember somewhere along the way mum teaching me enough dos commands that when we bought a new game I could install it without needing help, she just gave me the discs and sent me on my way.

It was in year 10 in high school that i started scrounging enough parts to start making my own computer (or computers as it would become), my first pc being a 386 and the first thing I did was run games on it & dad had a laugh, it was slow, but it was mine! I worked out how to do all the upgrades myself, and over time ended up moving through windows 3.x, 95, 98. by the time i got to windows 2000 i had a 2nd hand IBM desktop, and I was looking after our home network, i think we'd moved from dial-up to ADSL around that time too.

After high school i got into the local TAFE (college for trade certificates), and got a Cert III in IT

I remember not liking XP when it came out (oh god, what is that default theme?! those colours?!), but I built an amd athlon64 system to run it on, all new parts & it was the fastest thing ever! (well, ok, maybe not ever…but it was mine! and it way faster than anything i had previously) i spent days playing warcraft III on that machine, learning how to compile software, playing with virtual machines, and it around this time i landed a job doing helpdesk at the local university.

Helpdesk work was interesting, but it's pretty soul crushing at times, you learn there are people out there who have no idea how to do the equivalent of "fill the tank with gas & check tire pressure", the uni had debated about having a basic computer literacy course for both staff & students, but it never got off the ground. But i pushed through, worked hard, and got recognized as being a good person to talk to in person or on the phone, often out-performing many peers on the helpdesk. We had people on the helpdesk escalating tickets to me, because i was good at working out the "curly" ones.

at some point I got offered a temporary transfer into server admin for 6 months, they'd seen me do good troubleshooting before sending stuff over to them, and they wanted to give me a chance. That ended up turning into fulltime work, that lasted 10 years. I learned a lot in that time, deploying and managing servers, "hearding cats" to get people to agree when an old application can be turned off or upgraded, working on projects. i'm not going to fill this up with IT acronyms but i did get sent on a lot of microsoft & other vendor training and for a number of mission-critical things became first point of contact. I got to experience oncall (and get paid extra for it), and almost single-handedly dragged the windows server fleet up to modern standards.

But in 2022 i couldn't do it anymore. I'd watched over the past years since microsoft fired it's QA staff in 2014, patches got worse, microsoft's promises of improvement got more frequent, and my team (or me specifically) was often stuck between "deploy patch to fix vulnerability or don't deploy patch since it's broken and will break things we depend on", a position that no IT department should find themselves in, having to choose between security and uptime. I'd worked on projects that were so badly run that I'd experienced depression (and some of the places your mind can take you), and while i never acted on the the thoughts during such times, it was not a place that, mentally, i wanted to return to. I'd seen people in other teams at the uni stonewall projects…for what??? no repercussions, one of them even got a promotion. not to mention that in 2021 our IT director/executive staff decided to overrule state government and tell everyone they had to be back in the office (that went down about as well as you'd expect)

2022 was a bad year, we had multiple bad patches we couldn't install on some of our servers until revisions came out, I had a staff member in another team who refused (again…after 4 years…and raising it with my supervisor) to complete work they'd promised, we had a huuuuge amount of work coming down the pipe, and no extra staff, and at some point in july i just broke down over it all. I could not do it any more. I could not push through. my reserves were empty. I had no more to give. things had gotten too hard, things were too complex, I wasn't running a cute 486 playing an apogee game. I was looking after hundreds of servers and multiple cloud environments. these weren't the basic applications that we knew & hated when i arrived, these things were using complex databases and machine learning, and I was expected to understand it all enough to support it. Sure i was part of a team, but people go on leave, I get the on-call phone, I filled in for my manager on occasion, you have to know enough to be able to diagnose and fix things, and it's so. much. now. Things have moved so fast over the last 10 years, and the reward for being able to tread water, for being able to keep up? not more people to help out, but more work, more new technology to learn, in addition to the old technology. It was suffocating, it wasn't sustainable.

And i was dumb enough to think that changing employers would be sufficient. I moved state, found a new job, it paid more, only to find out that the work was worse. the internal documentation was incomplete and the team didn't want to answer questions. clients running systems that were 20 years old (and not supported)….and were planning an upgrade to a system that was 15 years old….and would still not be supported. And all that anxiety? It came back! with friends!

I found a 2nd job, working in IT / healthcare and it was terrifying. we have laws about how medical data is to be stored & handled and my manager told me "there's no laws about this", turns out he was also a sexist & a bigot too. That was a job that didn't see a need to have compliant IT and guess who's getting blamed when shit hits the fan??….well not me….not anymore. The only reason I was able to stay there as long as I did was that I was working part time for most of it.

I spoke to a number of people in IT over the last 2 years and the common theme is that they're all burned out, they've all been screwed by the pace of change or inability to enact required changes. And maybe that pace has been dictated by management not because anyone needed new things, but simply due to those things being new and shiny, or due to complacency. Maybe in other cases it was driven by consumer demand / consumption, maybe as a society we're destroying good IT staff for our own amusement so we can have the goods & services we want when we want them, on our schedule….I don't think I'm qualified to answer that.

But for all that IT has burned me, there are things about it I miss. I miss those times when computing was simpler, when it was easier to understand, when it was just a hobby. I miss being able to comprehend how things worked, rather than feeling like I was part of some cargo cult. I miss when IT was just a hobby and didn't have to understand laws for businesses around it and ensure compliance. I miss when IT was fun.

whoever said that making your hobby a job would make you happy and "you'd never work a day in your life" was lying. whoever said "just push through" never experienced anxiety / depression / burnout (or at least not in the way I did)

If i had piece of advice? If I can leave a message for myself to look back on? Know your limits, you're only human, don't try and push yourself beyond them & hit the wall. Know where that wall is & that it's ok to tap out if need to & you have the means. It's a lesson I had to learn over the last 2 years.

So what does the future hold? I want to go back to IT as a hobby, I can't see myself doing this as a career anymore. and in 2024 I'm going to study for a Library & Information Services Certificate, it'll be a change of pace / direction & should be a good career change.

If you made it this far, thankyou for reading, it's a serious first post i know. But it's been roiling around my head for a while. I should have some more light hearted things to post later

[rev3rb]

Hiya again! This month’s chapter was pretty straightforward and simple. Although I actually expected Paimon to go for something a little more subtle and strategic than a knife lol. And I am a bit confused on how Mika’s power caused the explosion. Poor thing though, he really was just trying to understand and do the right thing. But it doesn’t seem like this sacrifice prevents God from punishing them, which is what I really wanna get to. Rn I’m guessing that the punishment will involve the first turning into a vampire and the other angels turning into humans?? Regardless of what the punishment is, I’m a bit lost on what it does for the story. Like are we supposed to accept God’s action as the laws of nature or question his rules? When it comes to almost all of the other characters, we’ve already gotten information on their motivations and goals. Now that God has been introduced he’s a new unknown that I would some answers about. What about you? Thoughts on the new chapter?

Hey! Long time no see even though we talked briefly last month!

Simple and straightforward is a good way to put it. For once, the chapter isn't bombarding us with too many unanswered questions which is refreshing in a way.

I expected something more subtle too, especially bc this is supposed to be Rigr, and Rigr is all secret plans and subtlety. Guess these angels aren't exactly one to one... though given how little time he had, maybe Paimon just didn't have many options/opportunities for subtlety.

Eh, I have a feeling we won't get an exact explanation of angel Mika's powers just bc he's already kinda dead lol. He's powerful and that's probably all we need to know. Why he's that powerful is the real question here, one of which I'm not sure how to answer. Sika Madu obviously made him special but it's hard to speculate what that means exactly.

Ah, God. I'm not entirely sure if we're heading toward God being an actual character or if God will just stay as this punishing presence. I could see the story going either way. I think I'd honestly prefer God staying a presence as we already have a heaping of characters that are all doing similar things for their own selfishly selfless reasons. With that trend, if God became a character, there'd also probably be some sympathetic reason that 'the laws' need to be upheld or whatever. I'm ok with not having that and just having God stay 'taboos must not be committed bc this all powerful presence will punish you'. As for the actual punishment? I'm thinking that the punishment is going to come later after Sika Madu does something else to try and resurrect Mika. Mika is dead after all and Sika Madu seemingly hasn't found a way to cure that disease yet, so any taboos have been corrected. I would guess that there has to be some other taboo committed before any punishment actually happens. Considering all these angels aren't around anymore and all the ones we recognize are now demons, I would think it has something to do with destroying all that has been built here and killing or otherwise changing the angels on Earth. Only time will tell though I suppose. Maybe Sika Madu created mankind or something. Wouldn't that be something?

Now for my thoughts beyond this? Just one off thoughts here and there:

We really wasted more panel space watching Yu go "this stuff is exhausting but I'm eating so I'll be good". It feels unnecessary at this point. It didn't add anything, but we ended at a good stopping point so I'm not too upset about it.

"There's no time to explain" Paimon says as he then proceeds to explain everything lmao

In that same line of thought, you'd think Sika Madu would have gotten to the scene sooner since that explosion happened a fair amount of time before Mika did that to himself

I'm thinking that the Yu eye thing we see is going to be recycled into Sika Madu's next project that involves reviving Mika, that taboo I mentioned earlier. That's probably partially how the Yu we know today has memories of all this.

The cycle that is sacrificing yourself for your loved ones continues spinning round and round, though it's been slightly more subtle before now.

It feels like the past is starting to ish wrap up so I'm wondering if we only have a chapter or two more here in the past

[albireocountdown]

Chapter 1 》 The Herald; or, Merveille du Jour

[♪♪♪]

You knew this was coming, right?

Maybe not the specifics. You couldn’t know the call over the PA—though the same, in many ways, to those minutes before you reckoned with death for perhaps the first time in your life—nor the wandering through the halls—catching glimpses, as you go, of the things to come, the things to see, the things to commit to memory whether you want to or not—but some part of you knew, right?

That someone would die on this train?

(Someone else, of course, lest we forget so quickly our dearly departed Professor, but did you really believe that the man’s death would be the nail in the metaphorical coffin? No, it could only ever be merely the first.)

(Perhaps he would have told you that.)

Whether it was the now cleared paranoia gnawing through your mind like a plague or merely an act of hyper-rational thought, some part of you knew that this was the eventual outcome; this can’t be surprising.

This can’t be surprising.

(Or maybe it can. Maybe you believed everyone would sooner die than kill a friend. Evidently not so, but while some may call that foolish, others would call it hopeful. Is one worse than the other?)

Maybe the most surprising part is this: when you enter the entertainment car, you can see the karaoke room that Venetta stands before is already occupied. Its signal light glows yellow, indicating that a single individual is in the room. They arrived before the group, perhaps; or they never left at all, swallowed up by the screens and the music and the promise of good food, because now more than ever, you all needed those things. You all needed something grounding, something good. So many of you took to these rooms as a respite, as a place to remember that there are things worth enjoying in this world.

Thoughtful gifts. Silly music. Good times with friends.

So knowing this, knowing all the good that happened in these rooms, maybe whoever’s in the room—maybe they never left at all.

(The knot in your stomach tells you that’s not the case.)

(Or, rather, it tells you this: they’ll never leave it again.)

And as you walk towards the room, your vision tunneling in on only that light, only that door, you recognize a terrible truth: the world is about to shift, irreparably, once you pass through that door. You are in one reality now; you will permanently leave it once you see what is behind door number four.

You walk through the door anyway.

(You know you have to. Do you feel as if you have a choice?)

[♪♪♪]

Lucky lays dead on the floor in a sea of shattered glass.

Is this the moment to feign surprise? Are you shocked it's them on the floor?

Perhaps. But the shock can’t only be for their dead body—instead, the shock comes from here: though Lucky has always been difficult to read, their face a frequent mask of mild pleasantry or mild annoyance, it’s impossible to know now how they felt in their final moments because their face is, for lack of a better word, wrong. Their mouth is beaky, puckered in an odd way that elongates their face strangely.

Odd. That’s the word for it. Everywhere you look on their face, from their teeth to their hair to their ears, each feature is odder than the last.

This, of course, doesn’t begin to acknowledge the state of their body.

Their limbs are too long now. For someone so tall, perhaps you’d think that impossible, but it’s as if they’ve stretched even further than before into a willowy, breakable thing. Their hands are bigger, their nails more like claws; their skin is pallid and grayish and dusty; and the more you look, the less human their body becomes.

(Isn’t that strange? How death makes someone into something new? Something to the left of human?) 

(Maybe that’s peculiar to point out in this particular situation.)

Of course, there’s blood and injuries and you’ll get to that, eventually, but in this moment, the most important thing to pull your attention is this:

The white Tamagotchi, still clipped to their pants and smeared with something that must be blood, is chirping out an alert that it needs attention.

Take care of that, won’t you?

[ciw-i-do-stuff]

I don't know what I'm doing

I have wasted my life. I’m not even thirty, but I don’t think I’ve ever made a decision I don’t regret. At this point the only reason I haven’t died yet is because I’m a coward. I think I was happy when I was a child, but given how few specific memories I have of actually being happy compared to those where I, at best, feel nothing, or am actively miserable, I’m not even sure if that’s true anymore or if I’ve just been gaslighting myself for the better part of the last decade. 

I’m not planning on killing myself. I know from previous experience that even if I tried I’d chicken out at the last minute, and put myself even further in the hole with medical bills. I’ve found myself in a position where technically I want to be alive, but truthfully if i suffered a grievous injury, or was afflicted with a terminal illness, I would probably try to make it worse because it would have given me the excuse of “Hey, I’m not committing suicide, I’m just speeding along a foregone conclusion.” 

Naturally, with all that, I’ve also been thinking about what happens after I die. Honestly I hope that when all’s said and done, when the last flicker of me leaves my body, everything that could have been me ends entirely. Every thought an electrical signal decaying into heat, everything gone forever. No afterlife, nothing. I freely admit that at least a part of this is probably because most of the stories of personified deaths I have heard or read have those personifications despise those who seek to meet them, and while I can’t say that label fully applies to me, I also can’t say it doesn’t apply at all.

If I am forced to choose though, I hope that a reaper like the one written by Terry Pratchett for the discworld series or Jenny Jinya’s Loving Reaper comes to collect. A Death that offers no judgment for the failings of my life, only encouragement to cast off any lingering regrets and guidance to what comes next. Of course if any singular religion is true, the best I can hope for after meeting the reaper is either reincarnation into a lowly and miserable existence or an eternity in an afterlife whose only feature is being boring. I’ve never been good enough to deserve an eternal reward, and while I’ve never been particularly horrid either, I’ve definitely committed my fair share of blasphemy against basically every religion I have any understanding of. Who knows though, maybe one of the pre homo sapien religions was correct. One that is so old, we will never know anything about it other than that it existed.

Ignoring things like the presence and nature of an afterlife though, I think that here in observable reality I would like to be forgotten. Few have ever stayed in the public consciousness for generations after their deaths because things were going well, even ignoring the monsters of history that ruined everything. Churchill is only remembered because of world war two, if he had been prime minister of britain before, or after, the world wars, the average person would struggle to recognize his name. The same could be said for most U.S. presidents. The events that people remember are catastrophes, and if a historical figure doesn’t get tied to one in some way they probably won’t be remembered. For example, the thirtieth president of the United States, Calvin Coolidge. What does the average person know about him without skimming his wikipedia. I’d wager that most people don’t even remember he was a president until they hear his name and the word president in the same sentence, let alone which one he was or when he was in office. Long story short, most people we remember are not remembered because they were exemplars of merit and ethics, they are remembered because they are the worst of us or because they opposed some piece of the abject filth humanity is capable of being.

I don’t want people to remember me as anything more than a quiet guy who liked to write even though he knew it would never go anywhere because he was kinda bad at it. Someone who kept to himself and avoided involving other people in his problems. But now that I’ve written it out, that might actually be too much remembrance. Ideally, when the time comes, people will have the same awareness of my absence as a stoner barely realizing their roommate walked through the living room.

I realize this has been rambly and in all likelihood a bit hard to follow, so if you’ve bothered to try, I’m grateful.

[meofthestorm]

it'd be a huge help if I could pay for a therapist, right now. Because some of the stuff that goes through my head when I'm feeling down actually makes me question if I truly will be able to keep going. And it scares me that once I leave home, my family, the people who I consider close to me, I will just not be able to connect with others anymore. Call it fear of loneliness. Yeah, maybe it's that.

But then, why do I fantasize with dissappearing so much? With being able to stop the world and vanish from existence for a few days, just to relieve my head from the stress and anxiety of losing time, losing opportunities, not doing enough, not being the successful daughter my parents want me to be. It's so stupid, too. Why can't I push through like everyone else does? Why do I have to be so dramatic? Just keep going, for them. Because they'll be sad, dissappointed even, if you died now. But what will happen when they're not around anymore?

I don't want to kill myself, hell, I don't think I could gather up the courage to take my life. But isn't wishing bad enough? And I would argue with anyone that it's not a selfish act, that sometimes life isn't kind and that we shouldn't judge those who decide to commit suicide because we'll never be inside their malfunctioning brains. But I do feel fucking selfish when I wish it were me. When I think, even for a brief moment, that everything would be easier if I died suddenly. A car crash, a bullet to my head, falling from a skyscraper. Anything that would end things quickly and almost painless.

I want it. Sometimes. Only sometimes. Then I decide I'm being stupid, and it's stupid. But hey, wouldn't it be nice? To be remembered for my potential instead of the things I'm not sure I will accomplish.

On days like those, I feel myself going back to being twelve and lonely. When I would devour books and series to escape a reality where I didn't like myself, where I hated how I looked and god, I wanted desperately to avoid taking it out on my friends and family. Because nothing is worse than hating yourself and being mean with those who put up with you on top of that. I can at least be nice, right? They won't leave if they perceive as kind, good, patient, innocent. But how much of it was really me, and how much was out of a desire to belong somewhere. I don't get impulses to be rude, don't get me wrong. But sometimes I don't feel like I'm allowed, even.

And I fucking hate it when that happens. Because that means I haven't changed one bit, and I can't stomach the idea of being in high school again. Of never truly feeling happy around people I consider beautiful and wonderful friends today. Back then... i can't even remember much from back then. My brain decides to block memories where I didn't feel comfortable, where I wasn't happy.

I forgot where I was going with this. And it doesn't matter anyways, because who's going to read up until this point? Do I even want them to? Would I know how to deal with being recognized? I don't think so. Anyways, I'm not killing myself, it'll pass, it'll come back, and I'll brush it off again until something terrible hopefully happens. Terrible enough that I will finally be worthy of receiving help, and getting medicated or whatever it is that people do to control this.

[katarinamiljkovic66]

~ Pecka Trip ~

🏕️ Activity title: Pecka Trip

🏕️ Duration and amount: 26th - 28th of April

🏕️ Type of activity: activity

~ Activity Description ~

My teachers, classmates, and I went on a trip to Visitor Center Pecka, where we got to spend time in nature, go hiking, and, as someone who's never gone hiking before, I got to learn about the techniques and ways through which I was able to keep balance and not fall, no matter how rocky the trail we walked on was.

The visitor center we were staying at was pleasant in every sense, with good food and clean rooms. We were staying inside the center itself, but a lot of tourists were staying inside wooden cabinets that were scattered around the area surrounding the center. There was also a playground behind the building, which brought me joy for one sole reason, and that reason can be explained using one word: swings. 

The center also had a few dogs and cats, and while the cats mostly kept to themselves, the same couldn't be said for the dogs. They were always on the move, looking for their next victim, the next pat-provider. They were extremely cuddly, but also extremely smelly. I like to think that their "unique" scent added to their charm. They were also shown to be amazing guides, leading us to our destinations before our human guide had shown up. Perhaps they were the real guides all along.

During our three-day stay, we got the chance to see three different river sources. I most clearly remember the Sana River source due to it being the only source I had seen up close. The reason for this is that all other sources had a very tricky downward staircase made of huge wobbly rocks that would start to either tip extremely left or extremely right depending on your footing. In other words, I would have ended up taking a swim. I didn't take my chances and only took my chance at seeing this one source since I didn't wish to miss out on every single one. 

One other memory that stuck in my mind is that of a large cave at which more than half of our class decided to give it a shot at climbing down with the help of our guide. It honestly looked quite scary from where I was standing, and while I admired them for their courage, my heart was a hair away from giving out every time I'd see one of them stop in their tracks for more than a minute. Most of them later on said that they were shaking at some point, which I'm not surprised by whatsoever, but thanks to the wire on the wall that they held onto the entire time, nothing bad had happened and no one was injured in any way.

~ Reflection ~

This was a unique experience, and a bit frightening at that. With my fear of heights comes the fear of losing my footing while walking down a rocky trail and falling, so I got to face one of my fears. We hiked over 10 kilometers that day, which is way more than I thought I was capable of enduring, and while I have been out of breath for the following 20 minutes after we made it back, it has really boosted my confidence and self-esteem to know that I am capable of such things when I push myself to my limits.

~ Learning Outcomes ~

🏕️ Identify own strengths and develop areas for growth

🏕️ Demonstrate that challenges have been undertaken, developing new skills in the process

🏕️ Show commitment to and perseverance in CAS experiences

🏕️ Demonstrate the skills and recognize the benefits of working collaboratively

[broodwolf221]

oc asks for atros: loss, kill, wish <3

oh boy. this got long, as these are wont to do, and im so 😭about him.

cws: servitude; killing; poverty; disdain for one's own culture; alcohol abuse/alcoholism

asks from here

LOSS: What was the first significant loss that affected your OC? What made it significant? How did they deal with it? Have they gotten over it since it happened?

I suppose his first major loss was his family, but he was very, very young when it happened. He only has the vaguest memories of his parents and he's not even sure if they're real memories or not. But the alienage had experience raising orphans, and he stayed with several different families, kinda trading off as money became too tight with one. But he was resentful of having to be cared for and when he was still fairly young he ran away, scaling the walls of the alienage and sneaking into the alleys in Denerim.

He managed there for a time, but it was mostly through the charity of others who were also living on the streets, so in a way nothing changed for him and his resentment continued to grow. He didn't want to owe anyone and he wanted something more out of life. He felt entitled to it, felt powerful, and felt that the world owed him something.

Cue a well-off human noble strolling the back alleys looking for someone just like him: a desperate elf. He offered Atros a job as a servant, and although a part of him chafed at accepting a job of service, he was practical enough to recognize it as an opportunity.

Of course, it did not go as he'd thought. Not at all. And in many ways he misses his life in the alienage and on the streets, for although there was fear there—fear of an uncertain future, of getting enough to eat, of being abused—working for this cruel noble was a hell all its own.

So his first loss, technically, was his family—but his first real, deeply felt loss, was his freedom.

KILL: When was the first time your OC killed someone? How did they feel about it then, and do they still think about it now? If your OC has never killed before, would they? Under what circumstance?

Prior to Inquisition, Atros had never killed anyone. He'd gotten into more than his fair share of fights, some of which were quite brutal, but never to the point of a killing blow. His first experience with killing something was demons, and that felt okay to him. Not good, but okay. He was killing monsters, not beings. Solas' thoughts on spirits and demons and their personhood infuriated Atros for this reason; the things he had killed weren't beings. It was no more immoral than putting out a fire. He was committed to that line of thinking.

When he first killed a human, someone whose personhood he could not deny, it had been easy in the moment. Nothing but his training coming to guide him and acceptance from those around him, as if this was something ordinary. So he treated it like something ordinary, only beginning to feel it after he'd returned to Haven, at which point he tried desperately to bury the reaction. Mostly in drink. He was not supposed to feel bad for this. No one else seemed to. So he just kept pretending it didn't bother him, pretending he didn't feel every single death he caused, pretending it came easy.

His only execution was even harder. There was no separation. It was not a battle, not a fight for his own life… it was deliberate, and it was against someone who could not defend. And it was horrible. All the deaths he's caused disturb him, but that one was the worst by far. And he really thought it couldn't get any worse feeling than what he was already dealing with.

WISH: What's the first thing your OC ever wished for or wanted? Do they still want that, or have their desires changed? If so, what changed them? If not, how far would they go to fulfill their wish?

He wanted to be more. He hated the idea of suffering in the alienage his whole life—and to him, it did seem like suffering. He couldn't see past the poverty and lack of potential notoriety. Ironically, he wanted to be someone people would talk about—and he got his wish, in the worst way. Similarly, in his young dreams, he was respected by all people. He wanted to ignore the way elves were seen; not improve on it, not work for better conditions, just pretend like it wasn't real. The fact that he is respected by all kinds of people—if not all people—now feels like a cruel inversion of his childhood fantasy. In those fantasies, he had earned respect, and it was paid to him as an individual; as Herald, then Inquisitor, he as a person was unimportant. He was just the holder of the Anchor, and all people cared about was his function as a tool, not who he was as a person.

So, he got his wish. But he got it in a way that made him resent everything about it, that made him feel lesser, a notoriety that paid him no mind.