#there may be more but I was going off memory and transcripts rather than fully rewatching them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

antimonarchy · 4 years

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How to Create Image Descriptions

So I’ve been creating image descriptions on tumblr for about a month, and I wanted to share some helpful guides I’ve found on how to create them as well as my own tips that I’ve picked up. Video descriptions and transcripts are also necessary, but since I mostly focus on image descriptions that’s what this guide is about. This might get a bit long, so fair warning.

What are image descriptions?

Image descriptions are a textual depiction of what is going on in an image, as shown with the image below.

[Image ID: A picture of a person with short black hair working on a computer. They are sitting at a wooden table with a large blue pot of pink flowers in front of a grey brick wall. A guitar is propped up against the wall in the background, and there is a string of lights near the ceiling. /.End ID]

Why create image descriptions?

The primary reason for creating image descriptions is to allow people who are blind/have limited vision to experience visual content. Many people who are blind/have low vision use screenreaders, which read text out loud when it is clicked or hovered over with a mouse. A large amount of online content, such as pictures, graphics, or drawings, is visual and so possibly cannot be experienced by someone with vision problems. As a general rule of thumb, anything that can be dragged or dropped most probably requires a description. In addition, if someone has partial vision and attempts to zoom in on an image, sometimes it can become pixelated and impossible to understand.

Some neurodivergent people might need a description to understand the tone of an image, such as the meaning of facial expressions of a person to understand what emotion the artist is trying to depict

Some people might not have high speed internet or have low computer memory, meaning that they turn off images in order to save space. This means that they as well might require descriptions of visual content

Are image descriptions the same as alt text?

no, alt text and image descriptions serve the same purpose, but they are different in how they are presented. Alt text, short for alternative text, is included in the html of an image and can be read by a screen reader. However, there are many reasons why many prefer image descriptions over alt text.

There is a limit of 200 words in alt text on tumblr specifically (and not in other contexts, which makes this information only applicable here), which means that detailed images or graphics are unable to be described fully without possibly cutting out important information.

People who require descriptions, but who do not use a screenreader, must right-click and search through the html of an image in order to find alt text, but with an image description they are saved that work.

Who should create image descriptions?

Everyone who is able to should create image descriptions. A content creator is best able to communicate the message of their work through text, as they are the one who created it and thus understand its message the best. While of course it takes practice when starting out, over time image descriptions become second nature when posting visual content. Always check the notes of a tumblr post for an ID rather than reblogging without one.

What should be included in image descriptions?

There is no simple answer to this question, there are a variety of resources and guides on how to create one, and you should not accept my advice as the ultimate authority, as I am by no means a professional, and only create descriptions in my spare time as part of the effort to make Tumblr more accessible. However, here is my information for those starting out.

First, consider what type of visual content it is. Is it fanart of a tv show, a screenshot of a tweet, or an informational graphic meant to educate people on a particular issue?

Then, consider what information is most important in the image. If the visual content is an image of a famous building, then in writing the description the focus should be on the building, rather than describing for instance the color of the sky, surrounding buildings, or the clothing of the people walking by, as they are not the information that is being presented.

Perkins ELearning has an excellent list of things that should generally be included, which I will include here. In my experience, these are the most important elements to describe

The people and animals in an image

The background or setting of an image

Elements that relate to the context specifically, so if it was an image of a congested highway on a news website, the description would mention the packed cars

The colors of an image (don’t overdo it however, a simple ‘light blue’ will suffice, no need to say something like ‘a color blue that is similar to the color of a robin’s egg’ unless it is crucial to the viewer’s comprehension of an image)

Context for an image. For instance, imagine if someone had drawn a version of the Bernie Sanders ‘I am once again asking’ meme, with Eleanor Shellstrop from the Good Place saying “I am once again asking for there to be a Medium Place.” Rather than provide a description to the example such as: [Image ID: A drawing of Eleanor Shellstrop saying “I am once again asking for there to be a Medium Place.” /.End ID] you would instead say [Image ID: A redraw of the Bernie Sanders ‘I am once again asking’ meme with Eleanor Shellstrop from The Good Place saying “I am once again asking for there to be a Medium Place. /.End ID]

If the image is of a social media post, include the username/handle of the creator as well as the reactions (likes/reblogs) if they are visible in the image, as they may be cut off by the original screenshotter.

If it is a drawing or piece of art, always look for the artist’s signature when writing a description

How do I write an image description?

To start off, here is an example description written for a piece of art I made myself.

[Image ID: A digital drawing of Suki from Avatar: The Last Airbender over a gold background. She is shown from the shoulders up facing the viewer, and has a neutral expression. She is wearing metal armor over a light green tunic, and is wearing her Kyoshi Warriors facepaint and headdress. The artist’s signature ‘Astra’ is written in the lower right of the image. /.End ID]

In this description:

I made clear where the description begins and ends, so that someone with a screenreader is not confused. I usually use brackets ([ ]), write the words ‘Image ID’ (or video/gif/other) and finish with a slash, period, and the words End ID. (/.End ID)

I emphasized the type of image, in this case a digital drawing

I said the character’s name (obviously this may not be known if describing a photo or something you are not familiar with)

I described the background and the character’s clothing

I described her expression

I included the description of my signature.

This is my basic process for writing a description

I first say what the content is, such as a drawing, photo, or screenshot of a tweet.

I then use what is called Object-Action-Context for the most part, which UXDesign has a long article on https://uxdesign.cc/how-to-write-an-image-description-2f30d3bf5546. For example, [Image ID: A photo of a person standing in a crowd waving to someone out of view in front of a river. /.End ID] While obviously I would usually provide more information than that, Person = object, standing + waving to someone out of view = action, and ‘in a crowd’ = context.

I describe the clothing that might be worn

I talk about the position that people in an image might be in, such as leaning against one another on a couch, or standing with their fingers intertwined

I talk about the expressions on their faces, if shown

I talk about their general appearance (if important to the description) such as hair color/length

As said before, I talk about the context of an image if necessary

If the background is a simple color, I usually include it in the first sentence of the description. However if it is more complicated, such as a river winding through a dense forest, I include that at the end of the description after describing the important elements.

Typically if I am reblogging an image, I do not add on any commentary after creating an image description, as this allows others to reblog my description without my personal reaction. If I want to add on to an image, I usually reblog my description post.

In general, it is best to remain objective when writing a description, meaning not including your opinion of the content. However especially in an informal setting, say for instance you were describing an adorable cow, I would see it as fine to say [Image ID: A small drawing of an adorable cow. /.End ID] because the emphasis is on the appearance. There isn’t a clearcut answer, and it really depends on the context.

What are some tips for writing descriptions/common pitfalls?

If there is an element of an image like a line that represents an emotion, or a sound effect like ‘clang’ if something falls, include that in the description. For instance, [Image ID: ...beside the mug that has fallen on the floor, there are the words ‘sploosh’ indicating the sound of the water that has spilled out. /.End ID]

Put image descriptions first. Don’t hide them under readmores or any other text. If you have something with multiple images and you are the creator, place the description under each image in succession rather than all at the end. Readmores are ableist, as they require someone who has vision problems/one of the conditions described above to do more work to access the message of visual content.

If you are mentioning the skin color and/or race of someone in an image, make sure you describe it for anyone else who might be in an image. Don’t just describe the race of someone who appears to not be white. This doesn’t mean that you have to describe race, such as if the character is one whose race is commonly known, just that if you do, make sure you do it for all characters/people in an image.

In order to write IDs effectively, I’ve found it useful to download a screen reader. I use NVDA, which is entirely free and easy to use and can be downloaded here: https://www.nvaccess.org/download/.

Insert + Q turns it off

While my guide has focused mostly on image descriptions, video descriptions are also necessary. However they are not my area of expertise, and differ slightly, so I would recommend anyone interested in them to check out this website https://www.washington.edu/accessibility/videos/

Transcripts, for those who are d/Deaf/Hard of Hearing, are also necessary for making content accessible, and might be required for content that also has a visual format, such as a Tiktok. I would recommend this website https://www.w3.org/WAI/media/av/transcripts/ for anyone interested in writing transcripts

What are some more resources I can check out?

Here are a series of websites that I have found while researching how to write descriptions

UX Design - I mentioned UX Design earlier when talking about Object - Action - Context, this article is very useful and examines how to structure a description and provides very useful examples for beginners

Perkins E-Learning - This article is very useful in helping someone what to include in a description, such as clothing or background information, as well as providing some additional information on alt text if you are interested

Meloukhianet - This blog post by s. e. smith goes into detail on the elements of an image to emphasize depending on its context, using the example of a picture of their cat sunning himself.

SOAP - This article by the Stanford Online Accessibility Program (SOAP) provides a large amount of information on the purpose of image descriptions and what content requires them

HubPages - This article by SOTD and Zera discusses the difference between sparse, lush, and overdone descriptions, which is the amount of information included, and if/when each should be used.

I hope you found this information helpful, I encourage everyone to check out these websites, and my inbox is always open for questions!

#has id #please feel free to send me any questions you might have!#while I am not a professional by any definition of the term #accessibility is a large interest of mine and so I am more than happy to help #image descriptions #accessibility

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

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Delayed Mourning

Going Angst Day 5: Death

_________________________________________

It was 3pm when there was a knock on Maddie Fenton’s door. She huffed and set down the meal she’d been working on. Of course the one day she had time to pre-plan a nice meal from her family was the day she’d get interrupted.

“Yes? May I help you?” Maddie asked, opening the door. She had expected a salesman. Possibly even a neighbor coming to complain, again, about the noise or the smells that came from Fentonworks. Instead she found a small woman who couldn’t have been much taller than 5 ft with dark brown hair tied up in a tight bun. She was wearing a sharp white shirt and suit jacket with a matching white skirt.

“Mrs. Fenton, hello,” the woman gave a polite little head nod. “I’m from the the Government Institute of Interdimensional Warfare though I hear the locals like to call us the Guys in White.” She said with a knowing smiling, “of course, as you know, it’s not only the guys who are interested in ghosts. May I come in?”

“Oh yes, hello,” Maddie blinked, opening the door to let the agent in. The petite woman stepped inside, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Her small frame, her oversized glasses and soft nature seemed so at odds with the meatheads Maddie usually found in the GIW. “Is there something I can help you with?”

“Perhaps,” the agent demurred. “It’s more there was something I wanted to inform you of. If you’re not too busy, may we sit down and talk? Your husband and children are not home.” Maddie thought that last statement was a bit odd, framed as a statement of fact rather than an inquiry but moved on.

“Yes, Jack’s out of town visiting a relative and my kids won’t be back for a little while,” Maddie said. “Let me just finish putting this roast together, I’m almost done. Can I get you anything? Water? Tea?”

“No, thank you,” The woman said quietly. “And please, continue while you’re doing. Let me give you a little bit of background.” The agent adjusted her large glasses with her tiny hands. “Let me introduce myself, you may call me Agent S. I work primarily out of Washington for the Institute but sometimes I am deployed on site for... special cases. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, your town is very special.”

“Now, as you may have noticed, I am not particularly built like the normal Institute agents you have probably come across. That is because I do not work in the field but behind the scene in Investigations. My job is study the history and happenings of hauntings and spectral entities.”

“Oh that sounds fascinating,” Maddie beamed as she finished with her final preps and put the roast in the over. She looked over her shoulder at Agent S while she washed her hands. “Jack and I dabble a bit in history and folklore but we’re more versed in the hard sciences of ghosts.”

“Yes, I’ve read some of your papers, you and your husband truly are the frontrunners in the field,” Agent S nodded. Maddie preened at the praise and sat down, delighted to have a sophisticated conversation with someone in her field who she wasn’t married to. If more of those GIW agents were like Agent S then Maddie would get along a lot better with them. “So, Maddie, may I call you Maddie? What date and time did your portal start working?”

“It was August 28th,” Maddie said proudly. “It didn’t work at first when we first plugged it in. I’m afraid I don’t have an exact time it started up as we weren’t here. Jack was convinced one of the electrical conduction pieces wasn’t fully connected and was preventing ectoplasmic distribution. We ended up driving 4 hours to Springfield and back for some specialty parts only to find the portal working when we returned.”

“I can help you there,” Agent S said with a soft smile reaching into her white briefcase and pulling out several thick folders. She laid them out gently on the table and Maddie was unnerved by some of the information: schematics of Fentonworks, past and present financial records, transcripts of public statements. Her shoulders tensed when she saw Jazz and Danny’s names on some of the files. “Toll camera captured your vehicle on the Jane Addams Memorial Tollway at exactly 1:26pm on August 28th. We can confirm you and your husband’s vehicle traveled to Springfield and back via video feeds and credit card statements at 10:45pm that same day and were therefore out of the city all day.”

Maddie suddenly felt very trapped by the woman’s sharp grey eyes as she plucked a piece of paper and pressed it towards Maddie.

“At 3:18pm, the majority of the residential power in town went out for a period of 2 and a half hours. The cause was determined to be from a massive power surge that blew out the transformer. You may recall being blamed for this outage given your history with previous outages but the news that you were out of town settled that argument. However, I was not convinced.” She pulled out another piece of paper and Maddie bristled to see it was a Casper High attendance sheet.

“Your daughter, Jasmine was at her final summer cram session which ran from 2pm until 5pm. I spoke to her tutors and she never left the whole time and, in fact, stayed late to help a fellow student work through her study materials. But what about your son?” Agent S asked with with a curious smile but her eyes belied the fact that she had her own answers.

“How dare you spy on my family, on my children,” Maddie hissed, crumpling one of the papers in her fist. “Get out of my house, I will sue the pants off of your organization for this invasion of privacy! Get out!”

“Now Maddie, don’t you want to know how your son started up your Portal?” Agent S asked coyly, that drew Maddie up short. Danny? No, he couldn’t have possibly. He had no interest in their work, in fact, now that she thought about it, Danny had been sick that day. Agent S pulled out a set of blueprints for the Fenton Portal. Some small component inside the Portal was circled.

“You left at approximately 1pm and your daughter presumably left not long after. Phone records indicate Daniel called both Tucker Foley and Samantha Manson. Your neighbor, Mrs. Benson, saw them coming into your house not long after but before the 3pm power outage which I was able to triangulate did in fact originate from your home.” Agent S tapped the circled part of the inner portal mechanisms. “Now did you happen to push the on button in the Portal before plugging it in?”

“On button?” Maddie asked with a dry mouth, overwhelmed by the amount of information being thrown her way. All she could think about was how Danny hadn’t seemed sick when they’d left that afternoon but had looked awful when they returned. Would he have really gone downstairs and messed with the Portal? Had he gotten hurt? Been contaminated down there? Images of Vlad’s sickly visage after his accident flowed through her head. She should have paid more attention but she’d been so excited about the Portal working...

“It’s right here in the blueprints you submitted to the patent office, buried under dozens of other hardware bits. Its small, such a little thing compared to all the moving parts required to open up a dimensional portal. Daniel was a bright boy, his middle school records prove it. A bright mind, friends to impress, no parents around to chastise him... I think you can see where I’m going with this.”

“No, no,” Maddie said, burying her hands in her hair. “No, I’m not. You’re saying -what? - that my teenage son turned on the Portal when we were gone? No, my Danny wouldn’t lie to me about that... Why wouldn’t he say anything?”

“I don’t blame him for not mentioned in because, if my hunch is correct, he was inside the Portal when it turned on, killing him instantly,” Agent S said with a carefully neutral face. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news but I’m afraid this haunting has gone on long enough.”

“My child is alive!” Maddie screeched, standing up in her chair. “Danny is alive and healthy and he is not a ghost!”

“I will admit the evidence of how he died is circumstantial but the fact that Danny Fenton is deceased is not.” Maddie fell back into her chair as he legs gave out underneath her.

She watched the agent put paper after paper in front of her and detailed all sorts of data about her son that Maddie, who lived in the same house as him, had missed. Unusually high ectosignatures picked up by GIW (and their own) detectors, Danny being spotted in some form before most ghost attacks, faked signatures of hers getting him out of nurses’ visits. Maddie barely felt alive herself as she stared at a red light camera photo of her baby sitting atop a light post late, late at night. His eyes were a toxic green color.

“I know this must be distressing as a mother but your child never left that basement, never attended high school and will never achieve his dream of working for NASA.” Agent S said with carefully measured sympathy as she gathered up her papers and put them back in her case. “But you are a brilliant scientist, unlike your husband, you should be able to look past your emotions and see that your child is gone and the ghost he left behind is dangerous.”

“My husband?” Maddie asked blankly, running a finger down Danny’s unnatural photograph.

“I approached Jack two days ago, mistakenly believing he would be the most understanding of you both. He refused to believe the evidence and was, in fact, going to warn your son’s ghost that we planned on taking him. He is safe but he presently being held at one of our facilities until the capture is complete.” Maddie should feel outraged at her husband’s kidnapping but all she could think about was the fact that her son was dead, dead, dead, killed by her own invention over a year ago and she never noticed. How could she not have noticed?

“Daniel’s ghost is extraordinary, not only able to pass as human so accurately for so long but immensely powerful. We need to make sure he doesn’t harm anyone else. Think of his friends who are probably being forced to aid him and keep his death quiet. Think of your husband, your daughter, living in the same house as a dangerous ghost.” Agent S dropped some of her professionalism and plucked the photo of Danny out of Maddie’s hands and replaced it with her own tiny hand.

“I know this is impossible thing to ask but I must do it anyway, will you help me capture what remains of Danny? There is a chance with his charade exposed, he will be able to move on and so will you. You have been wronged, Maddie. You have been denied the right to process and grieve your child by his own ghost. But a delayed mourning is better than none. Danny’s death is a tragedy but please don’t let it become someone else’s.”

“Maybe he’s not-” Maddie’s breath hitched, “he’s never shown any signs of aggression. Jasmine spoke of benevolent spirits... maybe-” Agent S sighed roughly and retracted her hand to grab another photo from her case. Maddie was surprised when she held up a picture of Phantom.

“Ignore the glow,” Agent S instructed. “Change his white hair to black, his green eyes to blue. Think of how often Phantom is spotted in your neighborhood, around Casper High. Remember how he always has his hands on your technology,” the agent frowned. “Think of how he grins when he sees you, like he knows something you don’t. Like it all just a big joke you’re not a part of.” Maddie felt like she’d been slapped.

“Your son is dead,” Agent S said more forcefully, throwing the picture of Phantom next to the spooky one of Danny. “And his ghost has taken his place, taunting you, stealing energy from your family, from the portal that killed him. Phantom’s power is increasing too rapidly and soon we won’t be able to contain him. It’s why I was brought in to identify his haunt so that he could be stopped before anyone else died.”

“I will state this plainly, I am giving you the chance to participate in putting your child to rest but you are not required for this operation. If you refuse, you will be confined with your husband until Phantom is taken down. Do not let this monster with your son’s face trick you any more. So I ask again, Maddie Fenton, will you help us stop Phantom from making a mockery of your son’s memory?”

XxX

“Mom! Jazz! I’m home!” Danny announced, kicking off his shoes and grabbing a paper out of his backpack as he walked into the kitchen with a grin. “And I have a present! Jazz’s tutoring paid off, look at this A I got on my history test! Well A- but a solid A-!”

“Oh... that’s great,” Mom muttered quietly. She was sitting at the kitchen table, not cooking or tinkering with some gadget. Just sitting there quietly, twiddling her thumbs and not looking at him.

“Is everyone okay?” Danny asked, dropping his bag on the floor and walking over to his mother. “I saw Jazz at school but is Dad okay?”

“No, everything is not okay,” she said turning and looking at him with tear-filled eyes. “Someone died, someone I love dearly and I’m not ready to let them go,” she sniffed and wiped at her eyes. “But they've been gone for a long time, even if I’m just hearing about it now. I’m upset but it’s better to know and be grieve than to go on in ignorance, living a lie.”

Danny was about to ask who had died when something was jammed into his neck and he was shocked within an inch of his half life. His body spasmed to escape but his mother was gripping his arm to hold him in place. He transformed unconsciously but that only made it worse. He fell to the floor, ectoplasm leaking off his form as he could barely hold himself together.

“Mom,” he croaked, reaching for her despite everything. She stomped on his hand which was practically goo from such a vicious, destabilizing ectoplasmic shock.

“Don’t you ever call me that,” she hissed through angry tears. “I didn’t want to believe it but the proof is right in front of me you horrible, selfish ghost.” She kicked him in the side and half of him ended up on her boot. “How dare you, how dare you impersonate my son! How dare you string me along all this time, make me look like a fool who had to told that her own child was dead! I bet you just laughed and laughed at our stupid, human ignorance of what your were!”

“‘lease,” he begged through the ectoplasm in his mouth. “I’m still your....”

“My son is dead and he has been for a while,” Mom said, throwing the ecto-taser away from her. Danny vaguely heard the door being kicked in and in his rapidly diminishing vision, he saw black boots and white suits. “With you gone, I can finally come to terms with it and not be tormented by an inadequate replacement.” She turned her back to him. “Get that filth out of my house, I never want to see it again.”

“Of course,” a quiet feminine voice said as his goopy arms were restrained with ghost proof cuffs. “I know this is hard, Maddie but you made the right choice for your family and Danny’s memory. Jack will returned to you within the hour. I spoke to my superiors, for your cooperation, the Institute will take care of declaring Danny dead as well as covering costs for your boy to be laid to rest, the first step in moving on.”

“No, the first step will be removing that duplicitous monster from my home. It’s stolen enough of my baby’s life. Now please leave, I have - I have a funeral to plan.”

#going angst week 2021 #*jazz hands* I uh finally contributed #this is another interesting thing that just sorta happened #I was actually rereading and writing more for Side Effects when I realized that someone could follow the paper trail of the accident #which led me to a tiny lil GIW Investigator who blew Dannys secret wide open #which *then* led me to the tragedy of Maddie learning of her child's 'death' second hand but over a year after a fact #there's something about delayed tragedy... thinking everythings ok only to learn it hasn't been for a while #Love Mads but btw her an Jack shes the one who seems the more likely to take offense to her son's ghost haunting his own life #to keep playing along and pretending to be alive #him secretly being Phantom was the final straw #Both pretending to be Danny then *teasing* her when he saw her as a ghost #(obviously thats not the case but Maddie believes was Made To Believe it was)#Oh I wanted to strange Agent S this whole time typing #the blatant.... manipulation #Maddie may feel free to grieve now but her child's torment was only beginning #haha good times see ya

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passionate-reply · 3 years

Video

youtube

Have you and Telex met somewhere before? If not, you may want to make their acquaintance. This delightfully irreverent Belgian electro-disco trio came in next to last at 1980′s Eurovision Song Contest. And then they did an album featuring English lyrics by Sparks’ Ron and Russel Mael! Find out all about what makes this record tick, in this week’s installment of Great Albums. Full transcript below the break...

Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! It’s time to break outside the Anglosphere, and take a look at one of the finest synth-pop acts to come from Belgium: the irreverent post-disco trio of Telex. Telex were, in fact, so European that they were sent to that most European of institutions, the Eurovision Song Contest, in the year 1980, in what was perhaps their finest hour in the spotlight.

Music: “Eurovision”

While many contemporary listeners may find “Eurovision” amusing, it actually didn’t go over well in the contest itself, and Telex managed to place second to last on behalf of the Belgian people, losing even the (arguably) more illustrious last place to Finland. It was one of the earliest true “joke entries,” so perhaps the masses weren’t ready for this approach yet. Despite its generally upbeat sound, I think the lyrics of “Eurovision” come across as really quite harsh--and the song’s availability in both English and French meant that plenty of people understood them. Mocking the financial instability of Italy and, apparently, anyone dumb enough to tune into Eurovision, there’s really a rather condescending, perhaps even cruel, sensibility about it. A conspicuous reference to the Berlin Wall, a symbol of some of Europe’s deepest divisions and greatest political turmoil, gives it an extra nudge towards feeling rather contextually inappropriate. Telex’s “Eurovision” might just be the most cynical or anti-European song ever entered...at least up until Hatari of Iceland gave us the thunderous industrial anthem “Hatrið Mun Sigra,” in 2019.

Telex’s follow-up to this “incident” is, in my opinion, where their career starts to really get interesting. While it isn’t that heavily advertised, 1981’s Sex was actually something of a collaboration album, featuring English-language lyrics on all tracks which were contributed by Ron and Russell Mael of Sparks. Given the recent resurgence of interest in Sparks spurred by Edgar Wright’s documentary on them, I figure now is as good a time as ever to revisit this somewhat lesser-known work in the Sparks catalogue--or, at least, with one foot in the Sparks catalogue.

In my opinion, Sex takes the better aspects of both of these groups and combines them into something that feels like more than the sum of its parts. Telex’s soft, yet sprightly synth arrangements have as much fun and flair as those of fellow Sparks collaborator Giorgio Moroder, and feel more substantive and organic than Sparks’ many attempts to play with various genres in which they remained outsider dilettantes. Likewise, the Mael brothers’ lyricism is a major improvement to the often clunky English offered by previous efforts by the Belgians. Recontextualized amidst a sea of dreamy Euro-pop, and delivered by Telex’s suave yet unassuming vocalist Michel Moers, the same style of lyricism that often makes Sparks feel crass and overwrought to me becomes transmuted into something I’m much more amenable to. Much like Devo, I’ve often found the “smartest guys in the room” vibe of Sparks a bit off-putting, but Sex has a certain subtlety or ambiguity about it, that keeps me coming back and pondering it.

Music: “Dummy”

The feel-good, squelching bass grooves of “Dummy” recall the most affable work of the seminal Yellow Magic Orchestra, and a falsetto hook that’s to die for marks it as one of the more pop-oriented tracks on the album. Had it stopped at “Dummy, hey, I’m talking to you,” it would be not only less interesting musically, but also conceptually; the overt questioning, “now who’s the dumb one?”, rescues it from simply being mean. I like to think it calls to mind the archetype of the fool who is constantly vocally doubting the intelligence of others, in an attempt to cover for their own insecurities. While it’s a comparatively simple track, lyrically, it establishes some of the album’s most important themes, portraying traditional “intelligence” as mutable, and perhaps questionable. Despite its appeal, “Dummy” was actually not included on the original tracklisting of the album, but rather debuted as the B-side to the single “Brainwash,” before receiving this promotion in later revisions of the LP. In this rare case, I actually think the later edition is superior, and it’s the one I’d recommend.

Music: “Brainwash”

Besides just sharing opposite sides of the same single, there’s also a strong thematic connection between “Dummy” and the slower-paced, narrative-driven “Brainwash.” Arguably the most high-concept track to be had on Sex, “Brainwash” tells the tale of an intellectual who willingly forfeits his intelligence for the sake of falling in love. That, in and of itself, is a take on the love song that I’ve never heard before. We all know the trope that being in love makes one stupid--our word “infatuation” is basically Latin for “being made stupid.” But “Brainwash” suggests that, given the choice, we might well be better off as fools rushing in. What good is a life full of knowledge if it is one without passion, and deeper humanity? The narrator of “Brainwash” seems fully cognizant of what they abandon, and makes an informed decision to do so. But what complicates things even further is the development that the object of the narrator’s affections seems desperate to make them regain their prior book smarts--perhaps a commentary on how society frames this issue, and its willingness to prioritize the prestige of education over genuine human happiness. The single “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?” explores a related, but also distinct tension between knowledge and happiness.

Music: “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?”

Moreso than anything else on the album, “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?” is really sort of harrowing. Moers’s falsetto feels less like a fun disco aftershock and more like a cry of pain, and the stilted melody and more brash synthesiser stabs establish an air of unease--though still not so strong that it feels out of place alongside lighter tracks like “Brainwash.” Its lyrical narrative is plainly a tragic one, with a narrator who thinks he’s encountered his wife, but can’t quite piece it together, or get the response that he’s looking for. It’s evocative of the very real agony a sufferer of dementia and their loved ones might face, losing their memories, and, with them, their connection to the people around them. But perhaps the most eerie thing about the track is that it never does dip into more maudlin territory, even if it feels like it ought to. In the full context of the album, and particularly the sentiment expressed by “Brainwash,” we’re forced to question just how unfortunate the tale expressed in this song is. Perhaps “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?” is also suggesting that love is more powerful than knowledge, in its own way. Perhaps the characters it presents have transcended the need for knowledge of their shared history, because their bond is deeper and more primal than that? Similarly subversive questions about love are also posed by “Exercise Is Good For You.”

Music: “Exercise Is Good For You”

With a pleasingly abrasive, textured synth line and a rather singable refrain, “Exercise Is Good For You” is the one track cut from the later version of the album that I do find myself missing. This track’s narrator has devoted themselves to exercising--perhaps over-exercising--in the wake of a bad break-up. At first blush, it may seem a bit absurd, but this is a real-life coping mechanism, and one that can potentially be quite dangerous, particularly as it’s often combined with eating disorders. The potential for peril is compounded by the notion that, well, “exercise is good for you,” and that in a world where too few of us partake, anyone who does must be doing the best for their health. While it doesn’t deal with the realm of knowledge, I do think “Exercise Is Good For You” works in a similar space as tracks like “Brainwash” and “Haven’t We Met Somewhere Before?” do, offering an ambiguous narrative that asks us to question something we habitually value--in this case, by portraying the apparent virtue of physical fitness in a darker and less healthy light.

Earlier, I referred to this album simply as Sex, but for the UK market, it was re-christened Birds & Bees. There is obviously something quite transgressive and irreverent about naming a pop album “Sex”! We like to think of pop music as trading chiefly in themes of love and romance, so the title Sex functions as a bit of a “low blow,” suggesting that we ought to think more cynically about “what’s really going on below.” Despite this, there’s really not a lot of terribly bawdy tracks to be had on either version of the album, which may come as some surprise if you’re familiar with their early track “Pakmoväst.” I think the fact that the album title was changed, and seemingly “censored” with the very knowing title Birds & Bees, only adds to its transgressiveness, and lends it a certain allure of the forbidden.

You won’t find birds or bees on the cover of the album, however, but rather a butterfly, feeding off the nectar of two large flowers. It’s certainly an image that can be read as evocative of sensuality, with yonic visual overtones. Perhaps more overtly offensive to the eye is its queasy, dull yellow colour scheme, which is actually much more stuck in the 70s than the rather sharp and with-it electro-disco stylings of the music.

Historically, the butterfly is often used as a symbol of innocence, particularly with respect to the carnal knowledge of sex. In François Gérard’s depiction of the mythological heroine Psyche, a butterfly hovers above the subject, as she receives her first kiss from her lover, Cupid, a god of lust and sexual desire. The suggestion of youthful innocence is only heightened when the title Birds & Bees is applied. We might also consider the similarity between the idea of naivete or innocence as a virtue, and the apparent thrust of tracks like “Brainwash,” which also challenge the utility and benefit of knowledge about the world.

Telex would go on to release three more LPs after this one, and while they never quite surpassed a cult following, they keep up with the times quite respectably, incorporating sampling and digital synth textures without losing their signature levity and playfulness. I think they’re well worth a listen if you’re interested so far.

Music: “Raised By Snakes”

My favourite track on this album is one that’s exclusive to the later release, and never appeared anywhere else: “Mata Hari,” which was not only added to the album, but given the prominent position as its opening track. Mata Hari was actually a real person, a courtesan famous for her exotic dances inspired by her time in the Dutch East Indies. But she became caught up in the political storm of the First World War, and the French government convicted her of spying for the Germans--even though many believed she was framed. After her execution for the alleged crime, her severed head was embalmed and displayed in a Parisian museum, for all to gawk at...until it mysteriously went missing, possibly stolen by an “admirer.” It’s a strange and tragic tale, for sure, and one suitably treated with a sense of mystery and uncertainty by the song. An undoubtedly complex and controversial figure, Mata Hari can be seen as a symbol of European disunity, not unlike the Berlin Wall, as well as a representation of sensuality used for devious and destructive ends. I think this track enriches the album’s themes while also feeling somewhat separate, with its more pensive mood and third-person lyricism. That’s everything for today--thanks, as always, for listening!

Music: “Mata Hari”

#music #album review #album reviews #telex #sparks #ron mael #russel mael #eurovision #eurovision song contest

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novastarlyght · 5 years

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That Time I Named an Invader Zim Background Character and Everyone Thought it was Canon: The Story of Ixane

Like a lot of others it seems, the premiere of Enter the Florpus has recently made me think back to my first stay in the Invader Zim fandom many years ago. For me it was between 2006 and 2007, and I was 14-15 at the time. IZ was and still is a very special cartoon to me, not only for how it influenced me creatively but also the fact being a part of its fandom was my first really positive experience in a fan community. And I wanna talk about that experience because it... lead to something very interesting. Something that only could’ve happened in the now bygone days of the early internet where reliable sources were harder to find and misinformation was much more common, but somehow, has lasted until today.

This is how Ixane, a silent extra that appears only in the episode “Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars,” got her name.

So first off, you might be wondering “Who the heck is Ixane?” As I mentioned, she only appears as a background character in the 21st episode of the original series, titled “Backseat Drivers from Beyond the Stars” which I’ll abbreviate for the rest of this post as just Backseat Drivers. She’s a member of The Resisty, a resistance group against the Irken Empire who also only appear in that episode, although they were planned to become more significant recurring characters later down the line before the show was cancelled.

In 2006 I LOVED the Resisty. They were my favorite group of characters in the entire show, probably because I was fascinated by all their potential which sadly didn’t get the chance to be explored before IZ was canceled. What planets did each of them come from? What are each of their individual species like? How did they form into a single resistance group? What were their names, their personalities? Their hopes, dreams and fears?! THEIR FAVORITE DRINKS?!?! I attempted to provide my own answers to some of these not-so-burning-to-anyone-but-myself (or so I thought at the time...) questions by writing a fanfic called “Resisting Authority,” which I published on Fanfiction.net and later DeviantArt. It’s since been taken down on FFN while the DA version is currently in private storage on my old account, so here’s a screenshot just to prove it existed:

(click here for larger image)

Despite being more adult in tone than the show it was based on and rather melodramatic (then again, I was 14, and probably so was everyone else reading it), “Resisting Authority” became really, REALLY popular... at least for a fic that didn’t feature any of the show’s main characters, given it was entirely about the Resisty and told mostly from the perspective of its leader, Captain Lard Nar. Regardless it got a large amount of positive feedback and significant fan art on DeviantArt, most of which is no longer online although there’s still a little bit hanging around - mainly featuring Lyn, an Irken OC from the story who chooses to rebel against the empire and falls in love with Lard Nar, leading to a star crossed lovers conflict.

Because the purpose of the fic was to further explore the Resisty along with the idea of “What if an Irken betrayed their own?” several characters that appeared onscreen for only a couple of seconds in Backseat Drivers were fleshed out considerably in “Resisting Authority,” where they were given names, species names, home planet names, backstories, motivations and personalities. And of these the one who received by far the most development was a feminine, blue-eyed alien in a hooded purple cloak who I decided to name “Ixane.”

Ixane would become one of the most important characters in “Resisting Authority” right behind Lard Nar and Lyn. She is a Xanan from the planet Xana, a race of spiritual mystics. She is initially distrustful of Lyn, despite her actions and claims to be as much of a rebel as the rest of them, due to her hatred for the Irken Empire and how they destroyed her home. She believes Irkens are more like machines than living creatures, their bodies merely being empty shells to carry their PAKs around, making them incapable of genuine emotion. When she discovers Lyn and Lard Nar have been in a secret romantic relationship, she becomes even more hateful towards Lyn both due to jealousy, since she’d been harboring feelings for Lard Nar herself, and her genuine belief that Lyn’s feelings aren’t real, something that will only hurt Lard Nar in the end.

However throughout the course of the story her views are challenged and eventually Lyn manages to prove her wrong by displaying what she can’t deny is anything but legitimate love for Lard Nar and compassion for her allies in the Resisty. Unfortunately Lyn is fatally injured during a battle with a number of Irken soldiers sent to hunt down the rebellion. Now wanting nothing more than happiness for the person she loves, Ixane uses her mystical powers to save Lyn’s life while sacrificing her own in the process.

This character development (both in the meta sense and in the context of the fic itself) plus her selfless heroic sacrifice is what I think made Ixane one of the fic’s breakout characters and caused her to stick in the minds of those who read “Resisting Authority.” They were no longer thinking of her as just some extra, but as this fully developed character complete with an arc that I’d made her into - as the character of Ixane. But it didn’t occur to me just how big of an impact this may have truly had until about 9 years later.

In 2015, the official Invader Zim comic series by Oni Press began publication and I found myself extremely hyped about IZ again for the first time in almost a decade. It was during this time I came across a particular IZ wiki article and section of its TV Tropes page...

(Sources are here and here)

And I thought to myself “Wait... I thought I named her Ixane...?”

Because at this point I seriously couldn’t remember. I hadn’t thought about “Resisting Authority” in years, and with TV Tropes in particular noting that Ixane’s name was given “in the [episode] script” I wondered if I didn’t actually come up with the name. Maybe it was in the script for Backseat Drivers after all so I used it in the fic. Being unable to find said script (the original script as made by the episode’s writers, not a transcript) I couldn’t confirm it, so I mainly shrugged it off and thought more than likely I just had a bad memory. It wouldn’t be on a (still regularly maintained) wiki if it didn’t at least have a high possibility of being canon, right?

Cut to last night, August 2019. Me and all my other friends and fellow nerds who also grew up loving IZ are still buzzing over Enter the Florpus and our childhood/teenage fan content comes up in conversation. I dig up “Resisting Authority” from my old DA storage for perhaps a good laugh and a bit of nostalgia when more of when I first wrote it starts to come back to me. “I know the wikis all say her name was in the script, but I swear I came up with the name Ixane myself,” I thought, wondering if there was any way I could prove it.

Turns out I could. All the proof I needed was in a drawing of the character I posted to DA in January of 2007, which like the fic was still in storage:

(click here for larger image)

“Um...I bet a lot of people who read Resisting Authority got the impression she was an OC. She technically isn't. She is a Resisty character we saw VERY BRIEFLY once or twice in Backseat Drivers and I just elaborated on her for the story. The cloaked girl, yasee. Just look here: [link] “

That link no longer works normally, however putting it into Wayback Machine provides a snapshot taken in September of 2006, which would be around the time “Resisting Authority” was first published on FFN. Scrolling down on that page gives us...

(click here for larger image)

Additionally, opening the image itself reveals the filename “resistycloak.jpg” rather than something like “ixane.jpg” or “resistyixane.jpg”

For those who weren’t in the fandom back then, The Scary Monkey Show was a very well known IZ fansite and its Encyclopedias section was basically a resource for the show’s lore, one considered highly reliable, before things like fan wikis became commonplace. I actually used this site as a reference for the different types of Irken ships and other planets in the IZ universe brought up in the fanfic and so did many other fic writers at the time. If any site on the internet would know a minor or even background IZ character’s name, if it really was in the official episode script, it’d be The Scary Monkey Show. Yet her name is listed as unknown.

So why am I telling you this?

Because as wild as this whole situation is, I’m not a person who likes misinformation. I feel like IZ fans, both young and old, should know Ixane is not actually this character’s canon name as given to her by the writers of the show. That being said...

I see no reason to stop calling her Ixane. That’s just her name now.

Heck, it’d probably be difficult to go back to thinking of her as having no name given how long the name has been used on all these wiki pages and whatnot. And I’m completely fine with receiving absolutely zero credit for actually being the one who came up with the name in the first place, because here’s the thing...

I may have made the name, but it was the fandom that spread it. The IZ community, primarily in my absence too, were the ones who codified, legitimized it. Who added it to those wikis and accepted it as canon all these years. Who believed in it enough to assume it came from the official episode script, from the IZ crew themselves!

Ixane isn’t my name for her. It’s our name for her, as the fans who made Invader Zim the cult classic it is today.

And I want that to be something we all can have and be proud of ❤︎

#texts from last nova #invader zim #backseat drivers from beyond the stars #enter the florpus #the resisty #ixane #BIG ASS POST but hopefully somebody out there finds it interesting : 'D

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clansayeed · 4 years

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Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 7: The Bloodqueen

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

There are things in Kamilah's past she would not share with anyone, least of all Nadya. The problem is that Nadya can't always choose the stories her visions tell. When she learns the truth Kamilah lashes out.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“Anything else you’ve need of before I take my leave?”

“No, Gerard. Thank you and enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He tips his hat to them. “Have a pleasant rest of your evening then, Lady Kamilah — Nadya.”

The butler lingers in the doorway; it takes Nadya a moment (too long, and she feels bad about it even if she can’t quite muster up the words to apologize) to realize he’s waiting on her. She looks up and hopes her smile isn’t too strained.

“Good night, Gerard.”

It was; it was definitely too strained. There’s a second where the elderly man looks like he won’t leave until she tells him what’s up. But he doesn’t pry. He’s worked for Kamilah too long to pry.

Though when the door closes behind him and leaves Kamilah and Nadya alone… she kind of wishes he’d stayed. As a buffer.

She pulls herself back into the room to find Kamilah’s expectant eye right on her. “You were saying?”

Crap, what was she saying? Does she know? How could she possibly know?

Fear makes Nadya tighten her hands — that’s when she remembers the notepad in her lap; the conversation they were just getting into when Gerard had said his final goodbyes.

“Right right right,” Nadya clicks her tongue, “we were talking about…”

Kamilah gives her a moment for her tongue to catch up with the rest of her thoughts but when it’s obvious that won’t be a timely thing; “You were telling me about the name the smuggler’s contact provided you?”

Yes, duh. “Right; Kavinsky, Langdon Kavinsky. Big money out in Vegas, I think he owns a casino or something? The last time the Amulet was on any kind of formal paperwork was when Kavinsky bought it a couple years ago from some private collector in England.”

“And he has it still?”

“Ugh, no. He lost it in some poker game.” Nadya flips through her notes maybe a little too enthusiastically; but it’s an excuse not to look Kamilah in the face and she’ll take it. “Lily found a bunch of transcripts of what look like… minutes? Like from a courtroom.”

“It isn’t uncommon for that tier of wealth, especially in an environment where large sums of money change hands quickly and not always in plain sight.”

“Got it — the Amulet isn’t directly named but there’s this pair, here look, they come into the game late. Then the girl, the guy, and Kavinsky keep sporadically mentioning some ‘historical artifact’ and about a week later the Amulet is no longer on Kavinsky’s inventory list.”

The minutes, the inventory; both of which Nadya tries to offer but Kamilah doesn’t take. She’s too focused on the trembling hand that holds them out. It makes her raise an eyebrow in wordless question.

“Too much coffee.” She explains, and nothing about Kamilah’s expression says she buys it, but thankfully this is more important than that.

Kamilah takes the pages and makes it a point of practically holding Nadya’s hand as she does. The effect is an instantly calming one; albeit temporary.

“This couple you mention,” Kamilah looks between the stapled pages with a furrow in her brow, “they aren’t named.”

Nadya nods; she’d noticed the same thing. “Weird, right? So Lil’ said she’d try and dig for some security tapes or something — if not from the actual tournament then from the hotel lobby in case they were guests. Actually getting hold of the guy himself is a last resort, but —”

“The fewer who know what we seek; the better.”

“Exactly.”

Kamilah sighs and sets the papers aside on the glass coffee table. She combs a hand through the curtain of her hair and can Nadya really be blamed for watching with just a teeny tiny bit of absolute adoration? Even like this, exhausted of the pursuit like they all are by now, she’s still timelessly beautiful.

But Nadya hadn’t come all the way across town to the penthouse just to share a name and a bunch of ‘maybes.’ Only she had the whole cab ride to psyche herself up and now… looking at her like this… now she doesn’t know if she can go through with it. Doesn’t know if she can bring herself to hurt Kamilah like she knows she’s going to.

“You deserve the chance to tell her in your own time and in your own way.”

That dumb, terrible part of Nadya that’s always thinking (and never in their favor) didn’t let her understand what she’d fully meant when she said it to Maricruz. Of course she definitely meant it for them — especially after everything that’s happened the last couple of weeks about secrets and lies and things always coming out at the worst possible time. But she hadn’t meant it just for them.

And this… this is something Nadya would rather Kamilah hear from her personally than anyone else. From Gaius, or (god forbid) from the woman finding it out on her own somehow.

Kamilah leans her head against the back of the couch; leaves her eyes open the bare minimum to look at Nadya through long dark lashes. That same uncomfortable surveillance, but now they don’t have shop talk to cover it up with. Nadya’s discomfort hangs over them like a piano on a fraying rope — if she can hear her own heart trying to punch a hole in her chest there’s no question about whether Kamilah can.

“Have you decided?”

Nadya swallows. “Decided what?”

“Whether or not you will tell me what you wish to tell me.”

“I —”

She fumbles when two fingers come crooked under her chin; raising it just the barest bit. Exposing the splotchy flush of her anxieties running down her throat and past the collar of her shirt. It’s that same kind of insistence Kamilah uses on her in the bedroom. A request Nadya has one last chance to deny. But once she doesn’t it’s no longer a request but a command.

That a woman of Kamilah’s caliber requests anything of Nadya is still nothing short of a miracle. She just has to pray it’s not short-lived after tonight.

“Kamilah?”

“Yes, Nadya?”

“There’s something I need to tell you,” — and before the vampiress can find amusement in her awkwardness — “something… something I’ve been keeping from you.”

The hand falls down and away. Kamilah sits up straighter; no longer so at ease.

What more could you possibly keep from me, asks the look in her dark eyes. And it’s not a request.

“Wait here, I need to… to go get it.”

Against every instinct in her bones Nadya stands and goes to grab her overnight bag. Poets have written tragedies about the struggle and heartache that grows with every step. Into the bedroom and where her bag rests on the chair in the far corner; like her subconscious wanted to give her as many obstacles as possible. As if that would somehow deter her. Nadya pulls back the zipper and digs all the way down to the bottom.

Even with walls between them she feels the weight of Kamilah’s stare.

One last breath…

She knew it would be difficult, but letting go of the journal is the hardest thing Nadya’s ever had to do in her entire life.

And at this point she’s lived quite a few lives.

It’s not about admitting that everything up until that moment is real. She’s come to terms with that — violently, almost. She didn’t really have a choice after all. Something about being taken hostage by the father of all vampires and being forced to remember things like the location of a secret Amulet or living through the murder of her best friend.

Truthfully Nadya still thinks Bloodkeeper is kind of a dumb title but she’s made her peace with it.

It’s about admitting things about this awful, cursed ability. Not to herself but to others; to the people she loves most. Things she’s only ever told the pages of this little book (and Valdas but she’s officially not counting him, on account of the fact that he’s a lying deceitful jerkface). Because nightmares and haunting memories aside there are some things Nadya is convinced shouldn’t be shared. Because there’s no amount of truth or resolution in the simple act of knowing these things that can outweigh the awfulness of it. Things that involve Adrian, the Trinity; even Gaius.

Things that involve Kamilah.

But Nadya lets go of it anyway. She has to be strong right now — for them both. Now more than ever. A little too late since she now knows this is the second Bloodkeeper’s account that Kamilah has ever held. This one, though, was given willingly.

She has a sinking feeling that doesn’t make a difference.

If she has a question Kamilah lets it die on the tip of her tongue. She takes the little book with a shadow of recognition. Despite that she opens it anyway.

Kamilah flips through the first few pages without really looking. Nadya’s a little relieved she doesn’t have to describe what exactly it is in detail. A quick thumb brushes along the edges and Kamilah sees the same thing Valdas did — the not-so-slow dissolution of sanity and legibility with every entry.

Back to the front, she smooths back the cover by the crease and lets her open palm rest on the first page.

It’s dated April 14 and in comparison to the rest of the book it’s pretty tame. From back when the memories were solely nightmares that came only in her deepest sleep. Fragments of an identity Nadya still doesn’t know; the tearful account of a young woman betrayed, Turned by the person she thought loved her most. And how at peace she felt when the tip of a white picket fence met her heart.

Nadya’s pretty sure the silence will drive her insane.

“It’s —”

Kamilah cuts her off without looking up. “I know what it is.”

Insanity it is, then. Agony, too. Tension bordering on the tearful until…

“I was given the impression you forgot the exact details of the… memories you experienced, more often than not.”

Nadya knows she deserves every clipped syllable. “I know.”

“I see now that was not the case.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

Slowly the vampire turns the page; then another — and another.

Several times Kamilah attempts to speak — opens and closes her mouth when she accepts words fail her each time. It’s miserable for Nadya to watch and not know what exactly is holding her back. Is it that she doesn’t know what to say, or how to go about saying it?

Nadya might not be able to keep it together if she doesn’t find something else to look at; so she focuses on her hands in her lap, skin stretched white over her knuckles in taut fists. Inevitably her focus draws to the bracelet Kamilah gifted her — what seems like forever and a year ago. It feels heavier; like a shackle.

One she deserves.

“You once told me that I knew things you wouldn’t…” no, no that’s not right, “hold on — lemme try again — you’ve known… dammit,” because if there was ever a time to curse it’s now, “if I had any way to control these—these awful things I…”

Kamilah holds up a single finger. Nadya’s mouth shuts so hard and so fast she actually bites her tongue; stifles the painful little noise and swallows the faint taste of blood that Kamilah doesn’t even react to — not one bit — and that only tightens the knots she’s already in.

But she doesn’t even look up; not once. She just… reads. Devours page after page. Each time she turns a new one Nadya feels her heart skip a beat — finds it a little bit harder to breathe. By the time Kamilah reaches the last entry she might well pass out from lack of oxygen.

It would almost be preferable.

Finally Kamilah reaches the last entry. The most recent one; dated for three days after her return from Gaius’ withered clutches.

Nadya had penned it down because she was naive and planned never to share these awful pages with anyone — especially not these pages, especially not Kamilah. But it was the first vision she could call a memory and that was important for some reason. It seemed like a fitting final entry because it meant that all the ones before it were real; that she wasn’t crazy or dying or both.

If only feeling that way had made her words easier to write.

Nothing in the world could have done that.

It doesn’t matter whether I understand it or not. They felt fear. They were afraid. So I felt fear and I was afraid. The horde was two things at once: just another mobbing of the weak against the strong and a new kind of determined they hadn’t seen from humanity before. Humanity that wasn’t a part of the Order. I still don’t know what “the Order” is but this is the 22-nd time I’ve felt it. It’s probably an organization of some kind but the ones who think of it treat it like a person instead of many people. A persistent enemy.

I’m wearing armor, some kind of chainmail. Every step is heavy but whoever I am, I’m old so I might only be aware of it because I (me) am not used to it. The sword at my side is an old friend. I’m in a ballroom of some kind but there’s no music or dancing. Whoever I am I don’t mind this though. I think I have two left feet. They are coming but I (me) don’t know who they are. At least we aren’t underground. I keep thinking that. At least we aren’t underground. At least we aren’t underground.

Marcel comes running up to me through the crowd of panicking people. All of them: vampires. He’s carrying a sword and shield too big for his small size. They don’t match his fancy frock. I only notice this because frocks don’t do much against pitchforks and scythes. And I tell him as much. I tell him his weapons are not made for battle, and that he should leave. I just want to keep him safe. At least we aren’t underground. He’s so small sometimes I forget he is only a few decades younger than myself. I will not lose sight of you this time Banner, he says.

His Majesty, Our King comes up on the crowd. He summons me to his side because I am his Soldier. But I do so easier when I see Marcel’s face among the masses. I’m on his left and his Queen is on his right.

NOTE: I (me) imagine he gave a rallying speech, but I don’t remember enough to write it down here. I can’t stop thinking about Kamilah. She was wearing the dress from the Ball. I knew it was old but seeing it in these visions, memories, that upsets me. Seeing it covered in blood upsets me. And it’s a lot of blood.

The mob breaks through the barricades at the stroke of midnight. Our King and Queen and myself are on the front line. These are mere humans — workers laborers poor and starving. They aren’t a challenge. I’ve always hated being forced to attend parties and balls but this is my new favorite one. I force a man to swallow my sword with one hand and crush a woman’s throat with the other. I can taste their blood in my teeth. It splatters and drips down my armor. I polished the breastplate that evening. I keep Marcel close at hand just in case. At least we aren’t underground.

The Bloodqueen dances now like she did before the attack. Her dress picks up pooling blood from fallen prey and trails it around the floor. I try to keep Marcel distracted — he will weep like a child for the marble. I prefer it this way. Judging by the way the blood drips from her: mouth, hair, cheeks, dress, daggers, she agrees. I make sure to count my dead. She’s bested me in body count thrice now. I don’t intend to let her do so again.

There was more to it; there always is. Things Nadya can’t quite remember because she’s only human and how can she possibly be expected to remember every detail of something so terrible on top of exhaustion and stress and fear?

Nadya reaches out to take the book back — as though out of sight out of mind could possibly apply to this, them; here — but Kamilah’s nails dig into the leather cover savage like fangs. The sight makes her recoil which is most definitely the wrong thing to do even though she really didn’t mean to do it.

But the damage is done.

Kamilah can’t bear to look at her, she stands and pulls herself away. Seeing someone always so confident and at home in their own skin this way — pacing back and forth uneven and direction-less, mouth twitching with words held back, everything normally kept stable beneath the surface in danger of bursting out all at once — Nadya’s heart keeps breaking over and over and over again.

Knowing that she’s the reason for it all is worse in a way she isn’t sure she can describe.

“Are there more?”

Kamilah practically hisses the words; “Are there more of these… accounts?”

“No.” Nadya answers — only, hers is a short-lived relief.

“But this is not all that you remember.”

Remember; she spits — like its Nadya’s fault or something.

She doesn’t answer fast enough for Kamilah’s liking. The woman rounds on her one breath away from… from…

“That’s not all of it, no.”

“Tell me.”

“Kamilah —”

“Tell. me.”

“Tell you what?!”

“Tell me what else you have seen of my acts. How far back does your mind reach into our memories—my memories? Can you tell them apart; pluck out the ones which interest you? Do you witness each one from another’s eyes or have you suffered to become me, and kept that from me as well? Of what you’ve seen which is the worst of my sins?”

Nadya scrambles to think of one; tries to pull apart the tangled knots of what she did write down and what she didn’t and the difference between actual memories and things she dreamed of equal tragedy because can she really be expected to have all of that in her head all the time and not lose some portion of her own thoughts in the process?

“I — I can’t remember.”

Kamilah brandishes the book like damning evidence and Nadya’s the one on trial. “Obviously that is another of your mostly-truths.”

“That’s not fair —”

“Do you believe any of this to be fair, Nadya? Surely you are no longer so naive.”

What am I supposed to say? When it seems like everything she tells Kamilah is met with some kind of argument; like it isn’t ever going to be good enough.

All of that tied up with the rest of her and somehow Nadya still feels like she’s unraveling at the edges again. It leaves her gaping, noiseless, second-triple-quadruple guessing every word and thought until tears are brimming in her eyes and Kamilah just looks on.

“What do you want me to say?” Nadya begs. Her tears leave scalding trails down her cheeks. “Please, Kamilah please just tell me what you want me to say.” Because nothing I’m saying is right. Because you demand the truth and you demand answers but those aren’t the same thing anymore.

Pain flickers sharp in Kamilah’s eyes. A different kind of pain than what’s already there. Is it wrong for Nadya to hope it has something to do with the fact Kamilah made her cry; that she somehow regrets lashing out like this?

“I want you to tell me why. Why did you show me this, Nadya,” Kamilah drops the journal to their feet, “why would you hurt me in this way?”

But she doesn’t wait for an answer this time around. Nadya’s barely struggled through a wheezing breath and Kamilah is already at the other end of the room, back turned — can’t even stand the sight of her.

“Kamilah…”

Who doesn’t move.

When Nadya finally manages the simple act of standing its on wobbly legs. She may very well fall on her face in the strides it takes to get to Kamilah but she’d fall on her face a hundred times more if it mends this wound gored out of them.

“Just talk to me, Kamilah. Please—I-I don’t like this,” you don’t either — I can tell, “I was trying to—to put everything out in the open. No more secrets, nothing that could hurt…” hurt you — but you just said I hurt you, “Kamilah, please. This isn’t you.”

Nadya reaches out but Kamilah isn’t there. She’s just shy of Nadya’s touch — she may be blind and bleary-eyed but she knows when someone’s pulled away.

“You don’t know me.”

Kamilah has pulled away from her. Left her aimless; floating in some awful void where she doesn’t know what to say — to think — to feel or do to make it right.

“Though,” the woman laughs bitterly, “perhaps you do — and better than I would have ever allowed.”

Allowed? “What — are you saying you wouldn’t have ever told me about your life before this?”

Before me?

“And have you see me in such a way? No, never.”

“But you were the one who said we shouldn’t have any more secrets.”

“The circumstances were different.”

“Because they were mine.” It’s not a question. Nadya isn’t asking anything; just saying the things Kamilah would rather skirt around, apparently. “I can’t hide things from you but you can hide things from me no problem. That’s not how this works.”

Kamilah turns enough for Nadya to catch her in profile. To catch the slight quirk of her eyebrow at “this.” This—them—whatever they are or… or were. Because if this is the way Kamilah wants things then Nadya might have spent the last year making the biggest mistake of her life.

Kamilah shakes her head with a sigh. “No, you foolish girl. The secrets you kept from me — the severity of your struggle, the things collected in that damned book — they hurt you.”

“They —”

“Do not lie to me again.” Not like this, her unspoken plea — but Kamilah doesn’t do things like that, not now.

And Nadya promised she wouldn’t. So she doesn’t. And she really doesn’t know how to feel about how surprised Kamilah looks for it.

“My secrets, however,” she continues, “only hurt you if you know them. Things are better this way — or rather they were.”

Strangely Nadya feels like she’s had some version of this conversation before. Not with Kamilah but someone she dated, probably back home. How is it they’re arguing about Nadya’s dreamlike memories of every vampire ever including bad stuff Kamilah did and it’s still ringing out like a totally normal couple fighting?

Why does that make Nadya feel both better and worse about the whole thing?

“You make it sound like I did this on purpose.” She couldn’t quite shake what exactly was bothering her about Kamilah’s tone but that’s it — isn’t it? One of those rare times her lack of filter is a good thing. Mostly because Nadya isn’t really sure she’d have the guts to say it if she did have one.

Kamilah snorts; derisive and judgmental — and doesn’t even have the guts to look her in the eyes when she does it.

“You admitted to keeping it from me.”

“What, the—the journal? I’m not talking about the journal. I’m talking about the memories.”

I’ll take that silence as a yes then, huh. “Is that what you think? Is that why you’re mad at me right now? You think I wanted to see that side of you?” Question after question but Nadya barely even breaks to breathe let alone let Kamilah get an answer in. “Every single word in that freakin’ book that’s about you — those were the hardest words I’ve ever had to write!”

“Then why did you write them at all?”

“Because they’re important! Because they have to mean something!”

“Something like what, exactly,” sneers Kamilah, “beyond showing you swaths of carnage I once carved out of the world, or the blood that still seeps from my very fingertips?”

“Or maybe — wild guess here — they aren’t random memories I’m being forced to see? Maybe they mean something? Or… or…”

Now is definitely not the time to lose what little momentum she’s got — not that Nadya can really do anything about it. So Kamilah takes advantage of even the slightest falter.

“‘Or’ what, Nadya?” Calm, composed, effortlessly cool Kamilah — even now.

“Or maybe writing everything down made it easier for me to cope because I knew that the woman on those pages and the woman who held me safe in my sleep weren’t the same; not at all.”

The vampire recoils sudden; violent. Nadya can practically see the chains and walls and vast fields of thorns building up in strength and numbers behind her eyes.

“If you truly believe that… then you have learned nothing.”

“I’ve learned a lot, actually.”

“Not enough to spare you. They are one in the same — these women of whom you speak; one raised up to the heavens and the other damned to despair. They are both me.”

“Maybe once, but —”

“No,” she insists — and shakes her head in disappointment, “there are no exceptions. You do not—cannot—understand. For all the extraordinary things that you are, you are still mortal. And that blinds you; limits you.”

Limits us, is what she means. Nadya can’t tell which one of them she’s sparing by not saying it.

Her dignity flew out this particular door a long time ago but Nadya still tries to compose herself; wipes her tears with the back of her hand hastily. She hiccoughs with a squeak.

“Kamilah — I want to understand. I want to—to try at the very least. So why don’t you?”

Nadya doesn’t mean it as an accusation. Or maybe (on the inside) she does.

“Because I have seen this before. And I know how it ends.”

“That’s an excuse.”

“There is only one way this can end!” And suddenly their world of subtle metaphors isn’t subtle at all; its hundreds of miles away.

This. Nadya’s useless attempts at trying to help Kamilah open up?

This. Kamilah; who knows what she wants and takes it, and Nadya; who never seems to know her own head?

This. A two thousand year old vampire and the twenty-something mortal who is starting to see forever written with the letters of the immortal’s name?

“The things in that book —” Kamilah can’t even bear to look at it now, “— the version of myself you have seen, god forbid if you’ve lived through her eyes… I have not shunned her. I wear her every day, and I will until the end of my days. Yet while I have spent decades forcing her into my shadow there are those who would see her and call her Bloodqueen; who would bow to her feet and cower beneath her in equal measure.

“The very idea that you of all people have seen what I am capable of causes me pain, Nadya. I don’t know which thought is worse; that you might have committed my darkest acts with your own hands or that you still could. If I had known about this I could have found a way to spare you from it. But right now…

“Right now there is nothing on this earth I would like more than to open up your head and rip every single memory of who I was from your mind with my bare hands.”

Rancid fear — totally valid fear but try telling her that right now — rises like bile in the back of her throat. Nadya steps back, trips over her own feet actually, and feels the cool glass of the table hit the back of her legs. And oh god that was definitely the wrong thing to do because Kamilah’s eyes are flaring red and suddenly she can’t close the gap between them fast enough.

She pins Nadya in place. Hands hovering just shy of her upper arms. Kamilah is restraining herself from grabbing Nadya but only barely. No matter how badly she wants to close her eyes and turn away, though, she doesn’t.

She can’t.

“Are you afraid of me, mortal?”

Yes. “No.”

“What did I say about lying?”

“I’m not afraid of you.” I’m afraid of who you think you are.

“I don’t believe you,” any closer and Kamilah will have to step inside her skin, “not for all of the depravities you have seen—felt—lived through my eyes and others. Tell me Nadya,” the backs of her fingers are soft against Nadya’s cheek; it should be a crime to say such awful words in such a velvet voice, “which of them did you fancy best?

“Was it the slaughter at Damascus, and the bacchanalia we reveled in among the corpses? Or perhaps the culling of Versailles — were you witness to my machinations there? Did you see the part I played, the heartstrings I pulled and twisted until ma petit Marie trusted me with her life right up to the moment when I led the mob to her gilded door?

“Do you know to this day, four centuries later, I still cannot gaze out from a balcony without hearing the screams of a dozen chapel sisters and their charges while we hunted them down one. by. one.”

A familiar weakness knocks at Nadya’s knees. No, not this, please not again — she would give anything, everything, not to succumb to the rush of memories that crash into her in Kamilah’s voice. It might take more willpower than she has left to stop them. But she tries; god she tries.

“Stop — Kamilah please just stop.”

The vampire sneers back at her. “Why should I?”

“I know what you’re trying to do,” —I won’t let you push me away with fear— “I don’t…”

“You wanted to know, didn’t you; to understand?”

They both sound so broken.

“I don’t want —”

“What? What don’t you want?”

“I don’t want to be protected!”

Nadya braces her hands against Kamilah’s chest and shoves with all her might. Where did that come from? And some small part of her asks do you want to know, do you care right now? Maybe she doesn’t. Maybe she’s so angry at Kamilah right now she might actually burst with it.

Kamilah is too graceful of a creature to stumble in anything. But she does step back — a wildness still in her eyes but Nadya feels that too and takes it into her own frustration, sadness; torment.

“I am tired of you people trying to—to protect me from everything! You think you know what’s best for me but why don’t I get to decide that for myself? It involves me, doesn’t it? I deserve the right to choose, Kamilah! Stop taking it from me!”

She gets why people yell when they argue now — it feels freakin’ amazing. “Over and over and over again — I’m already losing my mind; my sense of self. I can’t lose my right to choose too.” I can’t lose you, too. “You think you know what’s best for me — why, because you’ve lived sooo many freakin’ lifetimes that automatically gives you permission over my mind, my body; my actions? Well newsflash; that’s not how relationships work!

“I kept things from you, I admit that. And I’m sorry. I literally can’t apologize any more than I already have. But you don’t get to act like this when you were the one who wanted honesty. You don’t get to throw a tantrum because you did bad things!”

She doesn’t mean some of it; but most of it is just raw and unfiltered Nadya. There was a time when Kamilah liked that about her. But none of this is to make Kamilah happy. Frankly she’s tired of trying to do that and finding walls at every turn.

Nadya sucks at mazes.

“There is far more than —”

“I’m sorry — did I say I was done?” And that’s another addition to her list of regrets when she is done — but she’s not.

She jabs a finger at Kamilah’s chest. “You keep telling me I don’t understand—I can’t understand. But if you stopped acting like I’m just another pathetic human you might realize literally nobody in the entire world can understand better than me. Not Adrian, not Gaius; me. And even if you took all this supernatural bullcrap out of it it’s not your decision whether or not I’m capable of getting you.

“You don’t get to pull me close and push me away any time you feel like it. You can’t spend one night telling me how you were afraid of me getting hurt and then shove yourself up in my face all ‘are you afraid mortal’ the next! That’s just not how it works. That’s not how this is going to work. I deserve better than that.”

Nadya grabs Kamilah’s hand the instant before she starts to pull away. Words are so important, you know? And they couldn’t be more opposite; Kamilah who chooses hers with the utmost caution and Nadya who just kind of spouts them off until the right ones come out in the right order. It’s because of those differences between them that she holds on tight even though she’s very well aware that Kamilah could break free with little thought.

Nadya says ‘I deserve better than that.’ But what Kamilah hears is ‘I deserve better than you.’

“Please,” she begs; though it would be helpful if someone told her what it was she was begging for, “Kamilah… please.”

The twitch of Kamilah’s fingers brush against the inside of her wrist. A bodily impulse to hold Nadya’s hand.

They hold each other captive with a gaze.

#bloodbound #kamilah x mc #kamilah sayeed #bloodbound fanfiction #playchoices fanfiction #fic: oblivion bound #oblv: bound by destiny ii #oblv: new chapter #bloodbound mc #mc: nadya al jamil #; my fics

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neshabeingchildish · 5 years

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10. Swellview Stats

So, I decided to do a little more Charlotte’s inner thoughts in this chapter. I know I did a touch here and there last chapter, but more in this one. It’s in Italics. Edit: You may have missed Ch. 9, because its an audio post instead of a text post. So, you’ll have to read that one before this one. It don’t look like the other ones.

Swellview Stats

Swellview might as well be a Utopia for simple minded individuals and intellects who gave up being competitive in the wide world. We have some of the safest neighborhoods, because of a couple of reasons. One of them is the Man Team. The other is the fact that our villains are stupid. Honestly, our townsfolk are stupid, too. There's probably a handful of brain cells in Swellview that get lent around for convenience, and a select few absolute geniuses who just got stuck here because they were born here and staying was too easy. I can't be one of those geniuses. The last time there was a murder in Swellview was like 35 years ago and it was accidental. There are often injuries as a result of chaotic driving or Captain Man goofing up a rescue, but statically, Swellview is a safe and comfortable place. Do I love safety? Yes. Do I love comfort? More than anyone I know! Can I settle for being the best in my field when my counterparts would never even rank in the country? Why would I?

I'm Charlotte Page. I aspire to be Dr. Charlotte Page, a Renaissance woman who specializes in every letter of STEAM, focusing on biomedical engineering… she looked at her boyfriend, shoving oversized eggs into his mouth while the rest of the guys counted, "8,9.." she got up, shaking her head and left the table.

She already had a dozen acceptance letters for colleges, was already taking some courses and had finished a couple of programs via Swellview University while she was in school. She had all of her graduation credits last year. She was going to graduate early, but decided to just get additional high school transcripts dings, and start college low-key, to transition a little better afterwards.

Besides, her work in the Man Cave was excellent practice for the work that she would be doing in her near future. She was thinking by 21, she'd have her first degree and probably be able to design electrical circuits, software to run medical equipment, or computer simulations to test new drug therapies. She'd want to try out a tech position at a renowned lab, but might have to settle for something more subtle because she'd still be working on her education, too.

By 23, she should be able to finally make a move towards the lab of her choice with the previous lab work experience and her highest degree completed."Hey, Charlotte! Jasper just stuffed 12 eggs into his mouth!" Henry bragged and stuck his tongue out laughing. "Then he swallowed them whole!"

"What?" She asked turning to the table again.

"Just gulped 'em down his gullet!" Ray cheered.

"Jasper?" Charlotte fussed. "You KNOW that eating that many boiled eggs will give you painful gas!"

Jasper said to the guys at the table, "Hey. How many farts you guys think I'll make when these eggs give me gas?" They started giving out numbers.

Charlotte folded her arms and glared at him, shaking her head. Henry was grateful HE wasn't the one getting the look this time. In fact, those looks seemed to be reserved for her boyfriend these past few weeks. She definitely loved him. Henry knew she did, because why else on Earth would that match even take place. But, he also realized that she had buttons. Buttons that Jasper pushed with childlike wonder, with enthusiasm that seemed to ask, "What does this one do?" Henry offered some intervention in saying, "Charlotte, you are dating a legend. A Man Cave legend. Nobody makes stats like Jasp does in this place."

"And what are these stats good for?" She asked Henry.

Ray intercepted, "Allow me." He grabbed a remote control and pressed a button, which revealed a chart of really stupid things (like how many punches in the belly you can take), and a points system. Jasper was in the lead. She was in last place.. in a contest that she didn't even know could happen, with points mainly for dodging certain death during Ray's irresponsible tantrums or something. "Yes, stare in awe," Ray told her.

"Awe is definitely a word," she said. She sighed, shook her head and said, "I'm going up into the store, before the gas and fart counting begins…" She heard a loud noise and saw Henry's distorted face.

Ray cheered, "Too late." And she was gone. Up the tube gone. She wasn't even gonna stay at work if this is what they were doing with their time.

Jasper was really sweet. Whenever it was the two of them, she was the only person in the world. Whenever they were with their friends, he was still sweet, but… they brought out the oaf in him. Now… as a friend of all of these people, she couldn't be too judgy. And nobody MADE her say yes to Jasper. She just wished that his best round of friends weren't.. this.

She was thinking about the upcoming college years and he was literally making a game out of his flatulence. The most frustrating thing about that was that Jasper isn't even a fart humor type person! He finds that gross and childish!! But, whenever it's the guys, he's onboard for childish shenanigans. Unless he's pretending to be more mature when he's with her. Then, that's false advertising, and she'd feel bamboozled. BUT then, if THAT was the case.. she would have to admit to being outsmarted by JASPER! Charlotte let out an aggravated squeal and frightened a lady and her dog walking by. They went to the other side of the street and she kept going, feeling awkward.

Piper was home, so she stopped by. "Hey… I wanted to vent to someone about Jasper…"

Piper raised her palm and said, "Let me give you a little disclaimer. Whatever it is that you have to say, my perpetual thought will be, "What did you expect when you started going out with Jasper?"

"Fair enough. Can I begin?" Piper sat down and Charlotte joined her on the couch. "So.. I know that Jasper's a little bit offbeat."

"What an understatement."

"He's honestly not as stupid as people think. He's very good at listening. He is insightful when it comes to interpersonal relationships. He gives excellent pep talks and sometimes pretty good advice, if he understands all of the details. He's an honest, loyal, and caring friend and has been a very thoughtful boyfriend."

"So, this is gushing and not venting? Balls." Piper flopped back, prepared to listen to Jasper praise that she didn't ask for.

"No. That was the good stuff that I have to get out of the way before I complain to him about what I can't stand, unless I want to see him cry!"

"You.. say all of that before you get to your point? And he listens?"

"Jasper feeds off of compliments. They open him up fully and then you can slide in the complaints. Only thing is that I knew he was the guy that he is and it's not fair to expect him to change, but.. Shouldn't he want to? Wouldn't you rather do anything else in the world than count farts with your friends, when you have an awesome girlfriend who's also around?"

"I would rather do anything else if I was as lonely as an old lady in a house thought to be haunted. But, I'm not Jasper. And like you said, you knew he was an idiot from the moment he first opened his mouth. We all did. I knew he was an idiot from the moment my memory formed as a toddler and he was at our house in all his stupid glory."

"But he's not stupid! That's the problem. He's ignorant about a lot. He's naive. He doesn't always think things through. But… have you ever seen him plan something out for a date? Or heard him talk to a little kid? Jasper is definitely unique, but I think he could do anything he puts his mind to. I just wish he'd put his mind to things that matter."

"Do you ever suggest these things?"

"Yeah, but I can't control him!"

Piper laughed, "Oh, Charlotte. I keep forgetting that this is your first boyfriend. Of course you can control him. Jasper is… what's a word that you won't refute?... Impressionable. Make better impressions. Lemme see your phone."

Charlotte reluctantly handed it over and Piper read out loud as she typed, "Shame that you didn't want to hang with me today. Gonna have to pick out new undies by myself. Sad face emoji."

"What?"

"Send."

"WHAT?"

Piper held a hand up to her, then pointed to the phone to show her Jasper was typing. "I would chop off the entire bottom half of my body to be included in that!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

"Too late. But, hope that the fart counting went well. Maybe, if you're more considerate later, I'll text you pix of my choices."

"Don't send that!"

"Send."

Charlotte snatched her phone from Piper, but Piper bent over her to see Jasper's next response, "Okay… I didn't mean to be inconsiderate? Next time, I'll check to see if you need anything from me before being stupid with the guys all day." Charlotte shook her head and said, "That's unfair to play him like that."

"Are you mad at me, Babe?" Jasper wondered.

Charlotte: No. That was Piper. I let her see my phone.

Jasper: Ok… but… did you tell her that stuff about me?

Charlotte: I said some things, but…He called. She groaned and answered, "Hey. Sorry about that…"

"Hey… if I'm doing something wrong, you can just tell me. You don't have to go to Piper."

"I came here just to vent."

"About me?"

"A little."

"Vent to me. Tell me what's wrong." She began to give out her list of compliments, but he cut her off, "Charlotte. I said tell me what's wrong. I know that you like and respect me. There's no other reason that you'd date me. What's your beef, though? What did you have to vent about?"

She sighed and laid on the couch as she talked. Piper hung around, listening to the end of the chat as she used her own cell phone. "I just feel like you would rather be doing senseless things with the guys at work than anything with me."

"I feel like I do a lot with you and that I've hardly hung out with them in the past few weeks, but I'll try to be more mindful about things. I don't want you having to vent about me."

"I… shouldn't have said anything."

"How else could I know? I'm not intuitive." She frowned. "Hey, pretty girl. Smile. Don't stress about it. You didn't say yes to a caveman. I just like to relax with my bros sometimes and that can't change. You smiling?"

"Yeah," she lied.

"No you're not. That's not your smiling voice."

Now, she was smiling, "Thought you said you weren't intuitive."

"There it is!" He cheered. "I'm not intuitive. I just really know you. Not enough to read your mind, but enough to hear that smile."

She smiled even wider and said, "You irritate me."

"Maybe. But not right now. Otherwise, you wouldn't be smiling so much." They both held the phone a while and Jasper asked in a low, soft voice, "You love me, right?"

"I've never said that," she said.

"That wasn't a no!" He said and she could swear… she could swear that she could hear him smiling. "I love you too." He hung up the phone and she nudged Piper with her foot.

"You're welcome," Piper said.

Swellview is not so much "Home Sweet Home" as it is, a safe place with sweet people that you could get used to. Crime rates are fairly high, but the crimes are pretty safe. The news is hilarious. You can just walk right into a friend's home and their door is probably open, and their family probably treats you like you're a part of theirs. It's a good place to meet the love of your life, even. Maybe not so much to stay there with them, though. I don't know how to ask Jasper what's going to happen when we graduate. I don't know how to even suggest that he come with me. I have no idea if he'll even want something more than Swellview. I have no idea if he thinks that I'm something more than Swellview.

#A Chasper Fic #chasper #henry danger #hd fanfic #Nesha HD Fics

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studentparamedicsaus · 6 years

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Student-Graduate Paramedic Transition

This piece was written by the awesome @freshontheambo, who’s taken the time to provide some insight into the process of applying for jobs and beginning on road.

“Hey, I’m a recent paramedic graduate who has just embarked on my GPIP period with the QAS. The application process can certainly be a difficult thing to navigate and wrap your head around, so I’d love to help clear the air a little for those of you who maybe want to hear about it from the perspective of someone freshly through the process.

First of all is the online application process. This only opens once a year, so keep an eye out on their website as well as their Facebook. Remember, you can apply even if you haven’t yet completed your degree, though you must be in your final year of study. This online application can take a bit of time to do, and when I was doing it, there was no closing it and coming back to it, you had to restart it if you couldn’t get it done in one hit. There are important things you’ll need on hand to attach to the application file, all of which can be found in the applicant information pack QAS provide. Off the top of my head I believe this includes:

Certified copy of birth certificate

Certified copy of driver’s license

Certified copy of academic transcript or graduation certificate, whichever is relevant (NOTE: the certified copy of academic transcript must be of the original, not a copy you can get online. You’ll probably have to pay to get this unfortunately).

A clinical reference (i.e the most recent mentor)

A professional reference which needs to be no more than 2 years recent (if not available, a volunteering reference is also accepted)

Certified copies need to be done by a Justice of the Peace. Basically, you make a photocopy of the original document, then take the copy as well as the original along to a Justice of the Peace who will certify it (this will be free don’t worry). You will then need to scan and save this certified copy onto your computer so it can be attached to the application form online. It’s definitely a good idea to get these all done before you do the online application form because, as I said, if you complete a section and then find out you need to submit one of the above files, you have to stop and re-start it all over again once you’ve got it.

As part of this online application, you also select where you would like to work. You can either select the specific LASNs (Local Area Service Network which the state is divided up into) in the order you would prefer, or you can select a box which says that you are willing to work anywhere. You will no doubt hear that this box is the best idea to select as you are more likely to get a job. I can’t really tell you how much truth is in that, but I will say that of the people I know who listed Metro areas as their preference are mostly still waiting to hear from QAS, or were told they weren’t successful and should apply again. It seemed that many of those who selected regional areas got jobs quite quickly, and those who selected the box (myself included) either got jobs straight up or a little later. Again, this is based just on the small pool of people I know. At the end of the day, you of course need to select whatever option is viable for you with your circumstances at the time.

Once you submit the application, the waiting game begins! Most people will end up getting asked to attend a QAS assessment day. For my application round, this ended up happening about a month or maybe two after the applications were all submitted. From what I understand, the vast majority of people will get to this stage, very few end up getting rejected based off the online process alone.

The assessment day is a pretty big day and is obviously very crucial. One thing to remember for this day is that YOU ARE WATCHED 100% OF THE TIME. The facility has cameras and microphones everywhere, and they will watch how you conduct yourself between the various assessments, as well as during them. Use this opportunity to make a point of putting yourself out there, to show that you can work other people whom you don’t know. Make a point to go and talk to other applicants you don’t know. As for what you’ll do on the assessment day, it’s split into 3 main parts:

English and Numeracy test

This comprises of online multiple choice questions which are based on your ability to handle grammar and data interpretation. The best advice I can give for this is to go online and Google ‘maths and English aptitude practice test’ because the maths in particular was maths that I hadn’t done since Grade 8

Psychometric test:

There is no way you can actually prepare for this. It’s your personality based on answers you give to specific questions, and it takes a LONG time to complete as there are about 200 questions. The only advice for this one is to answer truthfully. Don’t just answer what you think QAS wants you to answer with, the test actually flags for answers that are ‘too perfect’. You’ll be told this again on the day, but still, it’s good to know to just answer truthfully.

Various teamwork scenarios:

These are not clinical scenarios. Indeed throughout the whole assessment day, there is no clinical knowledge required, most likely because those applying are not exclusively from Queensland universities, and as such are not familiar with QAS protocol. There’s no equipment. It really is more about how you conduct yourself in team-work, problem solving situations. Again, it’s important to remember that you need to make an effort to show to them that you can work seamlessly as part of a team. It’s also important here that while you need to try and stick out, they also don’t like to see you dominate above others.

Once the assessment day happens, that’s pretty much the last you’ll hear until you know your fate. Some may get contacted later for a further psych assessment, but not everyone will. I didn’t and I still got a job, so don’t stress. Once the offers start coming out, they come out in rounds with about 45 people usually per intake. These come out every 6 weeks or so typically, and if you didn’t get selected in a particular round, they’ll let you know and they’ll either say ‘You’re still being considered for further rounds’ or ‘You’ve been deemed not suitable’. There isn’t one mass round of rejections, they seem to do it in stages as well.

You’ll know you’re in when you get an email, asking you to complete a medical assessment. This is basically the exact same assessment that you’ve got to do when you go on prac, so don’t stress. Before attending, though, you’ll need serology reports and vaccination records, as well as an optometrist report if you wear glasses.

Provided the medical assessment goes well, they’ll go on to do a criminal history report and ask you to give them a driving history report which you can get emailed from the transport and main roads website for about $20 from memory. Once that’s all done, you’ll get your contract and be told the dates of your 6 week induction program at Whyte Island (which is also where the assessment day is held), as well as the station you’ll be at for your GPIP period and then the permanent station after you have finished your GPIP period (NOTE: the station you will be permanently in will very likely be different to where you spend your GPIP).

That’s really it for the application process. The worst part is obviously the waiting. Be prepared to wait and to see a very large disparity between the people who are chosen and those who are not or who are left waiting a long time. QAS’ selection process is very difficult to understand, even clinical educators who ran our 6 week induction didn’t fully understand it. It seems QAS care more about your ability to work in a team than they do your actual ability as a paramedic. I have seen people whom I knew to be very competent throughout uni and their pracs to be left waiting or even rejected, and I have seen people whom made their way through with bare minimum passes throughout uni get jobs straight up. It can be a long process and a long waiting period for many people, so my best advice is to keep yourself busy with a job of some kind in the mean time, and to keep yourself touching up on clinical things every now and then so you don’t forget everything. The 6 week induction program is an excellent refresher and you really learn a lot of clinical things, but keeping yourself up to date with a bit of study here and there prior to commencing is definitely a good idea.

Good luck with your applications and I hope this helped some of you at least get some kind of an understanding of what this process entails, rather than just leaving you even more confused.

As for being a GPIP itself, out on road, it is quite a lot different from when you did clinical placements, and will definitely take some getting used to. You find yourself having to think about things you didn’t have to before, such as where are you going to put the stretcher, even just manoeuvring the stretcher with a patient onboard. Obviously you also have driving to consider, which is a lot of fun but again, something new to throw on to what is already a very overwhelming event. I’m still finding it strange to get myself out of the headspace of not being a student anymore, of actually making clinical decisions and having to look confident on those decisions, not just feeling like you’re making suggestions that your mentors will choose to either act on or not. On one hand, it’s an amazing feeling of freedom, and on the other hand, it’s a little daunting because you feel a little like you’re doing a trapeze act without a net. There’s no longer the safety of having 2 mentors who ultimately make the decisions, it’s you. You’ve got your partner, sure, but it really is on you and in doing your paperwork, again, it’s got your name and signature on it, not your mentor’s. It’s daunting but you do start to get used to it. And don’t worry about how you’ll be treated by other staff. People are supportive of you and your partner will help you navigate these strange waters because, of course, this is a very teamwork-based career where mistakes and errors are shared. Paramedics will ultimately see that you have the same uniform on as them, not that you don’t have 2 stripes under your caduceus. You may not be a “full paramedic” yet, but you’ll get treated as one of the gang. No more having to give up your seats in write up rooms or at station! They’re your seats as much as their’s now!”

#paramedic #emt #ems #studentparamedics #studentparamedicsaus #gpip #graduating #submission

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tlbodine · 6 years

Video

youtube

Here we go! My video analysis of horror structure in The Babadook.

Re-watching this movie always reminds me of how much I love it. Commentary transcript in text under the cut.

1 - THE WORLD IS NOT WHAT IT SEEMS See a brief prologue where the mother, Amelia, is having a dream or memory of a car accident; in the distance, we can hear her son, Samuel, calling for her. He, too, is having nightmares, and worries about a monster.

2 - PUTTING THE PLAYERS IN ACTION We learn that the boy's fear of monsters is a bit over-the-top, and that he is a bit "much" for his tired and over-worked mum -- this introduces the primary internal conflict of the story.

3 - SETTING THEM ON THE PATH Samuel is acting out at school, and not for the first time. But instead of accepting any of the help the school is offering, or reaching out for any help herself, Amelia doubles down on the insistence that he doesn't need any special help and begins to take on more burdens for herself by pulling him out of school. This begins the path that will isolate the two of them together.

In the midst of this, we also learn some more crucial information about the internal conflict -- namely, that Samuel's father died in a car accident driving his mother to the hospital while in labor with their son. That's a pretty heavy burden to be carrying, and it's little wonder it seems to be haunting them.

4 & 5 - THE WARNING & FIRST CONTACT WITH THE MONSTER Our first glimpse of the titular Babadook comes with its own warning in the form of the creepy picture book that Samuel asks his mother to read to him. The book warns them quite explicitly that there is trouble on the horizon -- but because they do not yet understand what they're dealing with, they don't know what to do with that knowledge.

Right now, Amelia is understandably creeped out, but she has no idea what sort of danger they are actually in.

Around the 13-minute mark, we have already started on the path; what follows is a slow ramping up of tension as Amelia deals with her internal struggle and now this new supernatural threat that she does not fully understand or respect but which is becoming increasingly menacing.

Throughout this section of the film, the tensions ramp up: Amelia grows increasingly exhausted, impatient and isolated, while Samuel becomes increasingly vigilant about his fear of monsters and in turn acts out more and more.

6 - SHIT GETS REAL The transition between the first and second acts starts with Samuel's largest outburst and his mother's decision to put him on sedatives so they can both get some much-needed sleep. Unfortunately for her, this won't come anywhere close to solving the problem -- because no sooner has she done it than the Babadook book, which by rights should have been destroyed, literally comes knocking on her front door.

This time, the text of the book has changed, become more threatening, and the warning has become more dire. The struggle with the supernatural element has come to the forefront of the story, launching us into...

7 - THE CHASE Amelia is hitting her breaking point, and it's only going to get worse. We see her confronted with increasingly spooky supernatural threats (and the possible implication that she may be losing her mind). She's overwhelmed with both the internal and external threat, and desperately needs a good night's sleep.

8 - FAILED CONFRONTATION Exhausted and at the end of her rope, Amelia tries and fails to keep her little family safe -- but leaving the house doesn't get them away from The Babadook. Amelia grows ever more isolated as she cuts herself off from any possible outside help.

9 - THE DARKEST HOUR The internal and external threats have converged - The Babadook, we start to realize, is not so much the man in the hat as it is a creeping malevolence that has possessed Amelia in her sleep-deprived state.

The two of them are now completely isolated -- Amelia has cut the phone lines, turned away any outside help, stopped going to work, and is all alone with the monster (which is, of course, herself).

At one point, she speaks to her dead husband in the basement, who tells her to bring him the boy. The Babadook attacks her and takes over her body shortly after, and she kills the dog -- and then goes after Samuel.

10 - A DIFFERENT SOLUTION The internal and external conflicts have now converged entirely as the possessed Amelia rails at Samuel, angry at him for surviving instead of her husband. But Samuel is prepared for this moment, being the monster vigilante that he is, and he takes charge. Amelia's attempts to go it alone have failed; it's time to get some outside help, even if that help means being tied up by a 6-year-old.

11 - SEEKING OUT THE BEAST "You let it in. Now you have to get it out." Samuel, broken little badass that he is, leads what is essentially an exorcism. Amelia is possessed and ready to kill him, but he refuses to stop loving her, and that brings her back from the brink -- because she DOES love her son, however hard it is to remember that at times. It's enough to drive The Babadook out of her...for a little while.

12 - THE TRUE COST IS REVEALED The problem, of course, is that you can't get rid of The Babadook. It's given up its hold on Amelia, but it's not quite done with their family yet.

13 - SACRIFICES ARE MADE Amelia is confronted with the specter of her dead husband, and the grief and guilt that have followed her for all these years. But she refuses to give in to his demands; instead she chooses her son, and it's an act of love that succeeds in driving The Babadook down into the basement. It's not a perfect solution -- they can't actually defeat it, but they can learn how to live with it without it holding all the power over them.

14 - THE INEVITABLE FALL-OUT We see at last some happiness in the family. Amelia has gone back to work, she's put Samuel back into school, and she's accepted help from her neighbor.

But most importantly, she has accepted Samuel for who he is, and their family for what it is. For the first time, we see her talking about her husband's death without shying away from it, and see her react with pride rather than embarrassment when Samuel speaks his mind. It's not a perfect family, but learning to accept it -- and the monster in the basement -- is the key to keeping the evil from winning.

15 - EVIL CANNOT BE CONQUERED, ONLY DELAYED You can't get rid of The Babadook. But you can learn to live with it. In a sense, although the monster is never defeated, The Babadook has a more optimistic ending than many other horror movies. But there's always that implicit threat: If Amelia does not choose each day to love her child and let go of the darkness in her past, the Babadook might be able to come back into their lives.

#the babadook #how to write horror #horror structure #horror beat sheet #writing advice

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ask-the-crimson-king · 5 years

Note

📖📖📖

[Send thing for story]

[3 are the stories you now will be told. 3 bitter memories of time foreign and old...

And they will also be under a cut because it’s lengthy. I’ll reblog this with the other two parts, and those will have respective cuts.]

“Magnus,” a voice called. “Magnus, can you hear me?”

The voice sounded as though it was right beside him. It almost made him jump, if he had not been able to feel the presence of the speaker nearby. He was currently hunched over a small table that had a variety of books and notes scattered about, the most important of which were being transcribed into a grimoire. Outside, the normally pleasant and warm Tizcan sun was absent, as it was one of the rare days that it rained.

The rains slashed at the window that was currently held shut, making small pattering noises and tracing patterns down the glass. The window was large, practically the size of one wall, although there were a few bookshelves obscuring its edges like the edges of a picture frame. Normally it would frame the beautiful, lush, and vivid Desolation, but today it framed nothing but dark grey stormclouds and seemingly ceaseless rain. The studious scribe knew the rains would let up in a few hours.

The young primarch was sat cross-legged at the table. He grew quickly in the year and few months he had been dwelling among the people of Prospero, already the size of an average man, and showing no signs of stopping any time soon. Currently, he was dressed in nothing more than some loose, light blue robes. Something casual and decent, if he was required for something. He doubted he would today. Today was going to be the day that he checked on the newer seedlings sprouting in the small garden outside his current abode, but due to the rain, he opted to get his transcriptions and observations into a more digestible and completed form. Having to carry many different tomes and loose notes was quite cumbersome.

“Yes,” he said, seemingly speaking to the air, “I can hear you. You have come at an opportune time, I was just about to pause in my transcriptions.”

“Building a grimoire for yourself?”

“Of course. But it is not just for me.” He gestured to the notebook off to his left. “This is the last of the observations that I wish to compile.”

“Not just for you?”

“No. I intend to use it in order to teach the others. I have already learned all they have to teach me, and thus I have been taking my studies of my abilities and the Great Ocean into my hands. The Magisters are still guiding me, in order to provide me council, but everything here,” he swept a crimson hand over the compiled books and notes, “is out of their reach. For now, anyway. I wish to teach them about it, and we can teach the rest of the people of Tizca.”

“That is a very noble idea, Magnus,” the voice said, sounding almost thoughtful. “Others may wish to hoard the knowledge in order to have an advantage over their lessers.”

“Something for pitiful men,” Magnus remarked with a sigh. The stylus he had been using was slowly drying out. As he spoke next, he used a little telekinesis in order to stack the books and notebooks in a neat order as he finished writing. “Something which I also do not understand. Why would one wish to keep such wonders to themselves? Would it not be best to be able to delight in such things with others?”

The voice had no response, at first. The young primarch lifted his head, raising a brow. He was about to call out when he heard the voice return.

“Some wish to be alone. To be alone with power or wealth or whatever else may come from hoarding such a thing.”

“Would it not get tiresome and lonely? Would one not become frustrated because others cannot see or experience what they can?”

“It could, yes.” The voice sounded weary. “Some people are just... stubborn, in that sense, Magnus. They crave power so badly that they forget all else.”

“I will never fully understand that.” Magnus frowned. “I can see and do so much more than my teachers already. I feel bad for it, in a way. They deserve to see the beauty I see too, and know the secrets I am learning. Perhaps it could even be a way for us to get rid of the psychneuein.”

“Perhaps,” the voice agreed. In the silence that followed, Magnus stood, collecting the books from the table and walking over to their respective shelves to put them back. The distant rumble of thunder momentarily caught his attention, and his gaze flickered to the window. Rain beat against the window with a little more fervor, and past that, the streets of young Tizca were full of water. Within the Desolation, trees were bending under the winds, their leaves being forced downward with the powerful rains. For a brief moment, Magnus wondered about the animals that dwelt within. Perhaps, if he was granted permission, he could go out and study a few species. Just for a short while. Nothing that may risk a psychneuein encounter.

He put the last book into place and walked over to the window, just watching the storm. As rare as they were for Prospero, he found them to be relaxing. Sometimes they could become violent, with loud, roaring thunder and the brilliant flashes of lightning. Or they could be as they were today, only moderately horrible. The streets would be flooded tomorrow, but they could easily have the water reallocated to a river that flowed nearby. He knew that there were devices in place to help collect the rainwater. No droughts for them.

“When are you coming to find me?” Magnus asked, tracing the intricate designs of the water as it ran down the window. His arms were lightly crossed.

“Not for a while,” the voice returned. “I shall inform you of when I am close. Try not to be too impatient.”

Magnus let out a small hum, nodding. “I will wait until then.”

“Do not try looking for the answer, either.”

“How did you know I figured out some more advanced divination?”

“I can see the notes you wrote, Magnus.”

“Oh, right.” Magnus momentarily flushed with embarrassment. “I doubt I can look that far, anyway. I can almost predict what will happen two weeks from now, but I only see many paths for the next few days.”

“Your abilities will improve with time. But please, be careful.”

“I know, I know, predators in the Great Ocean. I have heard it quite often.”

“Good. I hope that means you shall heed it, then.”

“I will. Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

“... Alright.” The voice sounded hesitant.

“Are you doubting me?”

“Try to avoid becoming headstrong and arrogant, that is all.”

Magnus scoffed.

“I have to go, for now. I shall reach out to you again, soon. Perhaps I can teach you a thing or two about divination, if you are interested.”

“Could you?” Magnus turned to the relative direction the voice was in. Or rather, what direction it felt like it was in. He saw nothing there, not even an aura. But he sill felt the presence of the speaker. His face was lit up in a wide grin, with a flash of eagerness in his gaze. He heard an approximation of a laugh.

“I may be able to. We shall see when the time comes.”

“Okay, okay...” The student let out a sigh. “I shall wait for you until then. And, hopefully, when the weather fares a little better.”

“Indeed. Goodbye, Magnus.” The voice left with what felt like a small laugh, although it also felt like the projection of joy or happiness of some sort. Magnus smiled a little to himself, then looked back out into the storm, seeing the first rays of the sun beginning to break up the bleak sky.

#longer than i thought #moonclaw writes

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canaryatlaw · 7 years

Text

Alright, so today was pretty good, fun Memorial Day. Slept in of course, woke up sometime around noon and just laid in bed being lazy for a while before getting up and getting some breakfast. Around 2 or so my roommates two friends showed up, and we hung out for a while, they played guitar hero, before we grabbed our grilling supplies and headed outside. We don't exactly have a patio, it's more like a decently sized concrete rectangle behind our apartment building, which is kind of sad because like, all the houses around us have these awesome decks behind them, but hey, we'll take it. My roommate bought this dinky little grill for like $20 at target or Walmart, and by the time we even get the charcoal in it a bolt had like flown off the handle and two of the leg pads were off, lol, but hey, non-essential parts. The grill just fit 7 burgers, 6 in a ring on the outside and 1 in the middle, and like, I'm talking JUST fit lol. There wasn't one square inch left unused on this grill. They decided to just cook all the meat and divide shit later, I know literally nothing about grilling anything (I'm like watching them with the lighter fluid and in the back of my mind thinking about the jimmy johns commercial with lighter fluid and thinking "that was a gas grill, not a charcoal grill, right?") so I'm just going with it. So we sit and grill, when the burgers are done we do some brats and hot dogs, and we just chilled out next to it. Somewhere along the line I felt the sun on my back and knew if I didn't do something I would get a sunburn, so I ran back upstairs and got the little stick of sunscreen I keep in my purse (year round, cuz you never know) and tried to get it to cover all the space on my back not covered by clothing, lol. The tank top I was wearing actually had a high back so there wasn't that much space left over, and I did a pretty good job covering it, I only ended up with one tiny spot of sunburn on my neck. I still haven't switched my clothing over to summer clothes since its been so cold, something I'll have to figure out when I pack to leave on Friday and spend the next two weeks in New York. But today was obviously going to be in the 70s and we were gonna be outside for a decent amount of time, so I put on the like, one tank top I had in my drawer and grabbed a single pair of shorts from my giant suitcase I use for clothes storage (lol I have too much clothing) and wore those. I guess we'll see how the rest of the week goes in terms of weather and whether (lol) I'll fully switch over. I should technically have time after work, maybe Wednesday when I don't have PT, since prison break having its finale should really be the last of my tv shows still airing (I guess you could count the Handmaid's tale but I'm not like dying to watch those episodes ASAP) but I tend to be emotionally drained after work and don't want to do that kind of stuff, which is why the laundry I did last weekend still isn't put away and there's an ever growing pile of dirty clothes on my floor (sigh). But, anyway. Once all the meat was cooked we decided to eat inside, so we closed the grill to try and put out the rest of the fire (again, no idea how grilling works). So we go back inside and I get a hamburger (or I guess cheeseburger, we only had shredded cheese so the cheese was kind of weak but it still existed) and a hot dog since we have so many of both, I ended up taking like two bites of the burger before deciding it just wasn't doing it for me, but the hot dog was pretty good (I've traditionally been a hot dog person, though I do like burgers). We continued to hang out for a bit longer and I ended up making funfetti cupcakes using the cake mix I keep on hand for baking purposes and the hacks I know to make cake mix cakes taste better (because I'm a pro like that). They turned out pretty good and were quick enough, so now we have cupcakes as well. The boys hung out for a little while longer before heading out, my roommate going with when of them (being that she seems to spend most of her time at his apartment anyway) so I had the place to myself and decided it was time for more Young Justice, and ended up finishing the second season and consequently the show for the time being at least, until season 3 comes out some time next year. I definitely enjoyed it, and now I want to watch the other justice league animated shows that exist lol because I love my superheroes. I liked the plot, though I found it kind of amusing that they were handling this giant threat to earth when most of the Justice league's major players were totally off earth and indisposed, like did they have any contact with them during that time?? Their whole trial, or the small pieces we saw of it, was rather amusing for me to watch (especially their apparent having no idea what the concept of mind control is and their non-existent appeals process) from a legal perspective, lol. I liked the whole blue beetle storyline, I pretty much only know him from the like, single smallville episode he was in and that's not much so it was cool to see his character more. For most of the season I wasn't buying that they'd kill off one of their main characters, at least as far as the "deaths" they faked, but in the finale I did remember hearing that they had killed off (spoiler obviously) Wally West and his death felt much more legit all around, although probably sadder being that they were kind of teasing Artemis' life being in peril all season only for him to get killed instead. Aqualad going undercover was all sorts of awesome, as was their showdown battle at the summit between the light and the reach, where aqualad supposedly "dies" and then hologram him outs everything the light has been doing to betray the light (and vice versa to some extent) and Vandal Savage is like I HAVE NEVER BEEN BETRAYED THIS BADLY IN 50,000 YEARS OF LIVING because that was just amazing (and of course he comes back to life like two seconds later). So I basically just all around approved of the show and thoroughly enjoyed it. I guess it's back to The Keepers for now, though I may find something else to intersperse it with. It's a good show, it's just both heavy and dry which doesn't make it the best for always binging, but one of my podcasts is talking about it in next week's episode so I do want to finish it. And yeah, that was basically the rest of my night as I was also only my computer doing my normal computer stuff and reading fanfic which I'm still not at all caught up on. Oh, I should tell you I did get my LARC grade back, though I'm in no hurry to announce it because I was pretty thoroughly pissed off about it. I mean, it very clearly could've been worse, a B is not the end of the world, it just felt very frustrating in this particular circumstance given how much work I put into that class and how much it felt like our professor was not at all invested in the class and it was very much an afterthought to her actual law firm job, and like I got better grades in LARC last year with a(n objectively) better and harder professor, and a B ties con law from my first semester as the worst grade I've gotten in law school, so I'm not happy that now there will be two of them on my transcript (and 1 B+, but that's different). I know I'm probably overreacting to something that really doesn't matter that much at all, it just irks me and it makes me mad that it'll definitely make my GPA drop (though I'm not sure by how much) and probably make my ranking drop, even if only by 5% or so, putting me back in the top 15%. I was just so happy to be in the top 10% that dropping back to where I was after first year feels very frustrating. It's my second worse semester grade wise, just barely beating out my first semester (3 A-'s and a B versus 1 A, 2 A-'s, and a B) which is annoying in terms of progress (considering last semester I got 3 A's and 1 A-) but I guess it's bound to vary depending on what classes you take and how challenging they are. Like I said, I'm probably overreacting to what really doesn't mean much at all, I'd just hate to think a prospective employer would see that and think my legal writing skills are subpar because of it when I've been proven in actual real courtroom experience to have solid legal writing skills, which I of course worked very hard to get. Idk, it's just frustrating. I'm not sure what my GPA for the semester would be, probably somewhere around a 3.55 (given that my first semester GPA was a 3.5) which shouldn't bring down my overall GPA of 3.7 too much, maybe just to 3.67 or something, which hopefully won't kill my ranking all that much, but I was right on the border of 10% as is and the qualifying GPA normally goes up every semester so I kind of doubt I would hit it again. *sigh* idk, we'll see, speculating about it probably doesn't do any good, and I've clearly ranted about it for long enough here when that's not going to solve anything. It is what it is, and I'll deal. Worse things have happened to me grade wise (like the nightmare that was junior year of college). But yeah, that was pretty much my day. Now I just have 4 days (or 3 3/4, since I'll probably leave a little early on Friday to get to the airport in time) of work to get through until I have 2 weeks off in NY with my family and friends. I'm aware of my previous musings on here of how I romanticize going home to be better than it is in reality, but I'm still looking forward to it as some time off being that I pretty much jumped right into work this summer and I'm definitely feeling the lack of break. I'm hoping that will help with my overall feeling towards work, cuz it's not all that great right now, which doesn't bode well for my future in this business, especially if I end up wanting to work for this office and will undoubtedly be keeping a similar 9-5 5 days a week schedule year round. I guess at some point I'll have to get over it. This is long and it's late, I should go to bed now, so I guess that's what I'll do now. Goodnight peeps. Hope you had a good Memorial Day.

#daily journal #May 2017 #sigh #it's still May

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scottmapess · 4 years

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This Is HUGE For Bitcoin! The First MAINSTREAM Hedge Fund Just Bought In!

VIDEO TRANSCRIPT

History has just been made for Bitcoin, ladies and gentlemen. Welcome back, everyone, to AWALT Coin Daily. My name is Aaron. If you hold Bitcoin again, you ought to be feeling really good. Legendary investor Paul Tudor Jones has become the first mainstream hedge fund manager to announce to the world that his hedge fund is buying Bitcoin. It puts Bitcoin as asset health. This puts Bitcoin as a brand on this whole another level. 2020 is the year of Bitcoin. In my opinion. Now, if you’ve been subscribed to our channel for a while, you already know, you know exactly why he is buying Bitcoin. If you’ve been subscribed to us for any amount of time. That being said, there is a lot of new people who have entered the space recently. And I do want to know specifically what he said. He sees Bitcoin as a hard asset, a hedge against the endless money printing. He called it a store value. Called it trustworthy, liquid, portable, if you want to know his exact statements on the matter. Feel free to pause the video right here. That’s a large part of what he said on Bitcoin. But he also went on to say that he sees buying Bitcoin now like buying gold in the 1970s. And just to refresh your memory, 1971 is the year that Richard Nixon took America fully off the gold standard. And that prompted a lot of hedge fund managers, a lot of people in general, to seek out hard assets, store their wealth. This is something people are looking again today for. Actually, if we take a closer look at gold’s price action starting in the mid-1970s. If we go from the bottom to the top, this may vary depending on where you get your data. Gold rallied about seven hundred and seventy percent and it actually went much higher in future cycles. But Paul Tudor Jones sees owning Bitcoin today like owning gold right here. In the 1970s and his hedge fund is buying it. I tweeted this out. To go along with this story, at some point, it will become fiscally irresponsible if hedge funds don’t have Bitcoin in their portfolios. Do you agree with this? Do you disagree with this? The reason I think this is true is that hedge funds have this fiduciary duty to make good investments. If Bitcoin continues to be the best investment, even if it just continues to be a good investment, they’re going to need to get off zero. By the way, guys, if Bitcoin does perform like gold, you know, the same percentage gains, we would be seeing a Bitcoin price of over seventy thousand dollars. And if you like that, you’re gonna like this. It’s another famous trader and investor role. Paul, we’ve talked about him before. We brought the story to you. The fact that this man just put 25 percent of his portfolio into Bitcoin this year for similar reasons as Paul Tudor Jones. And he tweeted out some rather bullish charts and opinions on Bitcoin. He called it Bitcoin porn. The perfect setup for Bitcoin is here. Chart one, the perfect wedge. If you use classic charting techniques, it gives you a future price target for bitcoin around forty thousand dollars. But chart number two, the perfect wedge on a log chart. Well, that gives you a price for this run potentially one million dollars. Chart number three, the perfect regression channel that gives you one standard deviation move to a Bitcoin price of four hundred thousand dollars or a two standard deviation, move to a potential price of one million dollars. Again, a one million dollar Bitcoin, whatever plays out after a key technical break like today, the probability of vastly higher prices for Bitcoin has risen dramatically. And this is confirmed by the stock to flow models by Plan B, and the breakout has happened almost exactly at the happening. Add to that the entire world central banks are either seeing their currencies collapse to the almighty dollar or they’re printing money like crazy. Huge quantitative easing. Fiat meets the hardest money that automatically quantitative tightens, bitcoin wins. This is one of the best setups in any asset class I’ve ever witnessed. Technical, the fundamental flow of funds and plumbing all now and again. To be clear, even if the odds are 90 percent, doesn’t mean it’s definitely going to work out. I can and I will be wrong often and dramatically. Good luck. Expect horrific volatility both up and down, but you can’t make a five x 10x hundred X returns. Without large drawdowns, so be careful how much you put in. It also feels like you have too little. Until it doesn’t. And then you wish you didn’t have so much. This is exactly what I thought would happen. First of all, we’re seeing two famous investors and traders this year in 2020 come out extremely bullish on Bitcoin. They’re putting their money where their mouth is. But besides that, I’ve always said that I think people are going to be secretly buying Bitcoin when they perceive it as low. And then when we see a Bitcoin rally up and all of a sudden it feels very good to tell the world that you invested in Bitcoin. And I think we’re going to continue to see people like this come out and say, I own Bitcoin and here’s why. And make no mistake about this. Paul Tudor Jones, his hedge fund buying Bitcoin is a huge milestone for Bitcoin as an asset. This is global news. Even our friends at CNBC are singing its praises. Welcome back to Fast Money, one of Wall Street’s most successful hedge fund managers sending a giant shockwave across the cryptocurrency market today. Paul Tudor Jones reportedly buying Bitcoin as a hedge against inflation. Jones comparing the cryptocurrency to the gold trade back in the 1970s. Calling it the fastest horse in this environment. Let’s break this bombshell down with our own Bitcoin baller, Brian Kelly. B.K. Crypto Crypto Twitter was just on fire today with this. More so than ever. I quit crypto traders putting in place. But yeah, I mean, certainly having somebody called Trader Joe’s pedigree and calibre come in and kind of put their stamp of approval on this asset class. Got everybody really excited. Brian, a big fan of your work. A lot of people think the gold bitcoin is binary. You have to own one or the other. They both can’t work. Do you think in this environment both can do well? Sure, it’s the same thesis. It’s the idea that you have you need a capped security or a capped supply. And so whether it’s gold or whether it’s Bitcoin, I happen to think Bitcoin has a much higher upside, a better risk to reward. But the thesis is very similar. The only other thing I would say about Bitcoin is that it’s different than gold. It’s a lot more. More, right. We’ve seen the issues we’ve had over the last weeks where gold prices disengaged from futures spot gold because they couldn’t get gold bars from London to New York to settle. You don’t have that issue with Bitcoin. This is the Internet money. You just send it right over and settle it. So in that sense, I think Bitcoin has a bigger role to play in this environment. The gold does. All right. Okay. Great to see you. Brian Callear owns Bitcoin Boller. Karen, I’m curious when somebody like a Paul Tudor Jones says that he’s buying cryptocurrency. Do you think that sort of paves the way for other hedge fund managers in the mainstream to do the same? Yeah, I think so. I mean, it does. Its sort of nobody wants to get sort of outed having owned Bitcoin if it completely falls apart, but they can say, you know, Paul Tudor Jones owned it also. Maybe that gives you a little bit of cover. I believe I mean, I think that Mike Novogratz had said it a few weeks ago. I really believe if this isn’t the environment for Bitcoin to work with this kind of just money printing all around the world, then I don’t know what is. So we’ll see if inflation ever ticks up. I’m optimistic that Bitcoin will go up as well. Guys, this is an incredibly exciting time to be a Bitcoin holder. And just in the cryptocurrency space in general, we if you’ve been following us for a while, we are leagues ahead of the general public on everything related to cryptocurrency, things that we’re seeing, you know, famous hedge fund managers coming out and saying this year they’re spouting out, you know, things that we’ve been going over on this channel forever, ever. Everything that, you know, we went over today, everything that these famous people have said about Bitcoin if you already knew this. And I think it’s just an incredibly exciting time to be in the cryptocurrency space. By the way, guys, I’m pretty sure I’m going to be doing a live stream on the same day this video comes out in the evening with our Australian friend, Alex Saunders. So look forward to a Livestream, hopefully coming up in a couple of hours whenever you watch this video. Alex is coming on because Alex, I want Alex to wait. If we were going to talk cryptocurrency, but specifically I’m like, Alex, what other coins? Like, I want to be on Team DFI. You know what? Other coins have real fundamental value and hopefully, we’re gonna get into some of that stuff. So look forward to the Livestream later. That’s it, guys. Seema.

source https://www.cryptosharks.net/this-is-huge-for-bitcoin-first-mainstream-hedge/ source https://cryptosharks1.blogspot.com/2020/05/this-is-huge-for-bitcoin-first.html

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jeffrmayhugh · 4 years

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This Is HUGE For Bitcoin! The First MAINSTREAM Hedge Fund Just Bought In!

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heatherrdavis1 · 4 years

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source https://cryptosharks.weebly.com/blog/this-is-huge-for-bitcoin-the-first-mainstream-hedge-fund-just-bought-in

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cryptosharks1 · 4 years

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This Is HUGE For Bitcoin! The First MAINSTREAM Hedge Fund Just Bought In!

VIDEO TRANSCRIPT

source https://www.cryptosharks.net/this-is-huge-for-bitcoin-first-mainstream-hedge/

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