#these will also be done in incredibly inefficient ways but !!!! OH WELL.

[autism-corner]

i love handsewing but man this would be 100 times easier if i actually had a machine.

[lonelygamedev]

Ludum Dare 53 Devlog

So I decided to do the recent Ludum dare that was coming up sense i’ve haven’t done one in awhile. I practice a bit of coding before hand and while doing that I was trying to think of a solution to a typical problem I have in game jams where I get easily distracted by youtube or something, so I thought turning the internet off would help before hand I wrote out a few style’s and do and do not’s 1: No 3D unless if it involves simple models and textures 2: Have game finished on Saturday 3: Sunday be polish And Menus + sound and some graphics 4: Almost No writing 5: Little Music 6: NO COMPLICATED MENUS! UI CODE IS THE WORK OF THE DEVIL! 7: NO RPG'S I also had a few ideas of style’s I could do or gameplay types that I might be able to fit the theme into Idea 1: Temple OS style FPS Idea 2: City Builder Idea 3: NES Zelda Idea(Warning Too Big! most likely) The Jam eventually started at friday on 7 PM with the theme being Delivery The First Idea was A NES zelda where you deliver packages and I immediately had a bad feeling about it sense it’s like many of my other game jams “Oh I have this fantastic open world game idea!“ 7 days later: “oh shit I have 3 hours left and it’s nothing that I wanted!“ But in the end I couldn’t come up with a Idea and I wanted to get started so I went with the Zelda idea where you deliver packages to people I should also mention I will occasionally be using the internet but only for a hard problem and to have a change in Music considering I don’t have much on my computer

Chapter 1: Friday So the first thing I did was made a Sprite sheet for getting some basic graphics by 9:45 PM I got the camera and Movement sorta done On 10:21 PM I created the MapManager where it manages the world and each screen you move too. I also created some Gizmos to tell me where a area is Chapter 2: Saturday 1:21 AM. well it turns out the back end of the code was actually quite complicated. I had to find a way to convert a world position. To a location of a room. then that room as a 2D array with no negative int’s that I also have to convert it too. Made it Incredibly annoying. I needed to do this for enemy AI to move tile by tile so I used a method that was likely incredibly Inefficient and horribly complicated but only did it because it was what I was similar with I also created a Test AI that just Moved Randomly just to Move it can’t go out of a room and collide with walls. Tho some enemies spawn into walls due to the fact that unity’s tile colliders made it hard to tell what is and what isn’t a collider sometimes. I then went to bed 12:49 PM After a Incredibly long sleep I made the Health system like zelda where you have half hearts. Also created the Item interface so I can have a sword with a attack now 2:55 PM The Inventory system. My fucking god what a pain, like I said UI code is the devil. And in the end it didn’t even entirely work, just hard to just convert a 1D array to a 2D grid. Should’ve write it on MS paint or paper to help Now this is where thing’s get a bit Iffy sense I forgot to record alot of stuff I might’ve spend the rest of the day on a Quest sytem + some NPC’s and the entire map Chapter 3: Sunday 12:52 AM So Here I thought up some enemies and coded them. one of them being a Bull that charge’s at you until it crashes into a wall, the other is some kind of zombie that throws at you and the other is a Bear that charges at you. stops and slashes at you and I mostly added him as a excuse to add bear traps. sense while thinking of gameplay I thought of luring and trapping enemys as a gameplay thing 1:00 AM Added money and made enemy flash when you hit them 2:19 AM got the basic UI for the store. sense alot of it was just Reuse inventory code so it’s not too hard. alot of the hard stuff will be the buying code and such 2:44 PM finally made it able to buy items and also equip them

So then I ran out of footage I know I wrote most of the quest. then created the character’s and graphics which took awhile. also the enemies. The Sound. by then it was Monday. I missed the combo deadline but I might be able to do the jam. so I just wanted to get it finished as soon as possible. I sorta felt like it was pointless considering you just deliver pointless packages to NPC’s. I wasn’t able to do the dungeons and I didn’t feel all that invested. Didn’t even did the soundtrack though luckily I didn’t forget the sound. The graphic looks alright. the Main menu was....lacking to say the least and I enter early on monday after spending all night on it. and went to sleep halfway though I came up with a Idea for a Pizza delivery Crazy taxi ripoff that I felt would’ve been better After the game jam I decided to watch a few streams of people playing games. one of them being someone called LittleDoctorGames. and while watching them I noticed that I was able to submit my game and I did just for the hell of it. Eventually I realized I had to create a twitch account and be in chat for them to play. Not really planning on using it much other then lurk and occasionally have fun in chat. I actually had a pretty good time in there with nack’s(I think that’s the person who run’s it). we enjoyed talking about metal, a few movie’s and was just a good place to have joke and chill. honestly too the point where I didn’t really mind that it took awhile for them to get to my game, next night actually. Was sorta worried sense i’m not exactly used to see people looking at my game’s and most of the time it’s a somewhat bland reaction. but it was actually really great somehow they enjoyed my 5 AM quickly slapped together dialogue where I stopped caring. and the gameplay didn’t turned out bad. It was actually fun for some people which is sorta a foreign concept to me. that people actually enjoyed it. I guess I was lucky to pick zelda sense I learnt from that game that even if the AI can be annoying with their random movement. it can be enjoyable from the choices you make and exploring. Which some people seem to enjoyed. being impressed by the size of the map for a game made in Ludum dare In all honestly the more I look back at my abandoned projects I was amazed by how well this came out. Even simple projects sometime can just be left in the dust but this one turned out fine despite it being ludum dare Which is often way too short for me. I guess the turning off the internet work amazingly and sorta made me sad I didn’t gave my all on the game by the end to resolve some of the issues making it a solid ludum dare entry. But I guess that’s more next time A few more fun fact: Most of the music are half recorded song’s for meme’s. 3 rammstein album’s. a tool album and 2 tear’s for fear’s album. and when I had the internet on I was really into Biting Elbows. I think on sunday and monday I listed to the elemental album 4 or 3 time’s alone another fun fact is the funny glitches. one of which happen after the game jam finished which was when I was showing a family member and realized bear traps where Infinite but yeah Ludum dare 53 was surprising fun. I’ll definitely be revisiting and I’ll definitely be using that no internet rule for more of my project so expect more progress soon here’s the game I made https://ldjam.com/events/ludum-dare/53/fetch-quest-simulator

[cybernaght]

Guardian rewatch: episode 10

The tone of this recap is going to be the crackiest so far. The production quality plummets dramatically here, in a way which is as unintentionally hilarious as it is endearing. I have very little of import to say on events of this episode, and there is nothing much for me to hyper focus on, so a lot of this write-up are snark and bad jokes. Apologies in advance. I would not be getting annoyed at a show I did not care about. 

Day two of the Road Trip starts with Zhao Yunlan waking up with a splitting headache and his own jacket draped carefully over him. I choose to believe Shen Wei left it there. 

Zhao Yunlan wakes up - and discovers that Wang Zheng had slipped a sedative into the party’s water, effectively knocking them all out. He even discovers that she left her doll-body behind as a decoy; thankfully, it’s still Li Siqi and not the blow-up doll from the previous episode. 

With the daunting realisation that he’s been betrayed, Zhao Yunlan instantly spirals into hurt and anger, and this is the moment Shen Wei chooses to appear out to nowhere. He enters offering comfort, his entire focus on making Zhao Yunlan feel better by assuring the man that his subordinate is not one of the bad guys, but rather one of the self-sacrificing ones. How SID manages to function when it’s full of people with non-existent sense of self-preservation is beyond me. 

“Professor Shen, why are you okay?”

Zhu Hong narrows her eyes. Zhao Yunlan’s look is the one of vulnerability, not suspicion, almost as if he is silently asking to please not be betrayed by his newest partner.

“I didn’t drink the water she gave me.”

Another thing I would like to question here is the reasoning behind Shen Wei waiting until the morning with this. He knew that Wang Zheng was about to do something, since he refrained from drinking the water she offered. Everyone else being unconscious would be a perfect opportunity for him to go full Hei Pao Shi on her, or follow her quietly, or do literally anything but wait for the morning. 

“What is your purpose of coming here?” Shen Wei asks because he needs to know how much Zhao Yunlan knows. He does so with a perfect set of puppy eyes. 

We cut to Wang Zheng entering the chamber which houses the pillar/totem, and witness the absolute devastation of her hearing her love’s voice for the first time in a century, as he mistakes her for the enemy and calls her a rat.

I should say that while I’m not always on board with Li Siqi in this show, props to her for acting her heart out opposite a literal pillar. Her reunion with Sang Zan is incredibly touching; she really is wonderful here.

Flashback 1. The execution of Ge Lan. 

This method of execution seems so inefficient, I actually tried to find if it has any legs in history. As my research yielded exactly no results, I am guessing this is the producers showing hanging without actually showing hanging. They kind of accidentally made the whole affair infinitely worse. People are weaker than gravity, the angle offers no possibility of the neck being broken, so this would be a very slow, and very painful death. Yikes, is all I can say. 

Flashback 2. The montage. 

Sigh.

This imagery is so carelessly contemporary it’s killing me. I’m not saying it’s completely impossible for the heart shape to have been known to represent love in this fictional tribe on a fictional planet. I’m just saying it’s a boring shorthand for romance, made worse by the fact that so much of the show’s imagery is otherwise fairly intelligent. I am not angry, I’m just disappointed.

Wang Zheng and Sang Zan’s reunion triggers another earthquake, which is felt all the way back in the village, and shortly thereafter Zhu Jiu interrupts the couple, knocking Wang Zheng out. This - her being knocked unconscious - cuts to Zhao Yunlan wincing while clutching at his temples, which almost implies that he can feel it when his people are in danger. Which would be very cool if true. 

Shen Wei, in the meanwhile is remarkably good at keeping his Professor’s mask on the whole time, offering enough information without betraying his own knowledge or motives, but it is clear by now that Zhao Yunlan starts to see right through it. 

The chief sprints into action when Chu Shuzhi and Guo Changcheng arrive, instructing the two to join him in investigation. Shen Wei opens his mouth to volunteer to come with, but ends up hesitating before saying anything out loud. 

Zhu Hong, too, makes a move to go after the three men, but is firmly instructed to say behind and look after Shen Wei. She proceeds to loudly explain that this is the wrong time and place to be fussing over this guy. 

Shen Wei looks like he has no idea what to do with this display of emotion. 

Zhao Yunaln whispers to Zhu Hong to watch the professor for him: which could equally be him manipulating the Yashou into staying, or a sinking realisation that Shen Wei will actually try to join them either way, or genuine desire to find out what the professor will do next. Or, indeed, a combination of the above. Zhu Hong will attack her task with conviction. 

Sure enough, Shen Wei finally voices his desire to go with the group. Zhu Hong reminds him that he has his own people to look after and instructs him to return to the house with barely contained resentment. 

Shen Wei will predictably try to sneak out very shortly afterwards, and will be, equally predictably, caught by Zhu Hong. Why the man who can teleport would not just teleport out of the house before proceeding on foot is anyone’s guess. 

“He surprisingly views you as a good friend”, says Zhu Hong when she stops Shen Wei from leaving. “You surely noticed it, right?”

He certainly did, although he will always have trouble realising that he is actually cared about in a way which is anything but casual. 

Shen Wei obediently sits down and follows Zhu Hong’s instructions as she attempts to hypnotise him. Those instructions are anything but subtle. 

“Professor Shen, look at the flame closely”.

Meanwhile, the other party has successfully deduced the location of the Hanga tribe cave/shrine, and heads there, only to find no visible entrance. Thankfully, gaining access to the mountain is not particularly hard for the party. Mostly because this part of the mountain is made of foam.

This is where I want to metaphorically pat Guardian on its non-existent head, cooing, “Oh, Guardian. Baby. What have you done.”

On the bright side, this is also where Guo Changcheng accidentally shocks Zhao Yunlan with the Fear Stick, and Chu Shuzhi literally gives him a thumbs up. Those two are a duo for the ages. 

Youchu appear to fight our heroes, and after the first wave is eliminated, Zhao Yunlan decides to go inside, leaving the other two fend them off near the entrance. Considering that the beasts are all hiding inside the cave, rushing in without backup seems incredibly ill advised. Zhao Yunlan instructs Chu Shuzhi and Guo Changcheng to run away if the danger becomes too great. Which he must know surely that they would never do: his department does not leave people behind, and his subordinates will never abandon him. 

To no one’s surprise, the cave is crawling with Youchu. Zhao Yunlan goes on the offensive, kicking the feet out of the monster, but failing to incapacitate it. I am going to do my best to ignore how the scale of the beast fluctuates as it falls down, and focus on Bai Yu’s excellent reaction when his character realises that he is about to very much die.

Luckily for our protagonist, Hei Pao Shi sends a ward his way with a note, warning him of the danger ahead and ordering him to return. Zhao Yunlan makes no move to do as instructed and uses the upper hand he’s gained on the Youchu to get out his gun. Before he can fire however, he once more experiences the painful flashback of the devastation this gun carries, and freezes.

This is when Shen Wei shows up in person, jumping in front of the gun and gutting the beast.

The jumping in front of the gun part of the action is sweet, because it indicates, albeit indirectly, the absolute trust Shen Wei must have in Zhao Yunlan’s instincts, knowing that the man will not accidentally shoot him in the back. 

The gutting itself happens in reverse grip, with Shen Wei being easily within reach of the beast’s long stabby claws, and as such really questionable to me in terms of logic. I would have not minded it if he had been moving through the space in front of the beast, slicing it while passing through. That would be at least an indicator of both speed and dexterity enough to make me believe Shen Wei made a clever avoidance of the claws. But he doesn’t: he just materialises dead-on in front of the monster and the later just.. lets itself be killed. 

Let’s just say that maybe the beast is supposed to be deliberately slow here, and park the long essay in regards to the bladework until the next episode. 

“Chief Zhao, are you alright?”

Everything about Hei Pao Shi in this moment screams of Shen Wei-ness. Well, maybe not the sword. But the obvious concern, the tone of voice, the general air: it’s all Shen Wei. It’s remarkable that Zhao Yunlan does not see it. Or maybe, I suppose, he does, without even realising it. His cheeky grin suddenly appears; the corners of his eyes crinkle, as he goes into a very long-winded, almost flirtatious away about thanking Hei Pao Shi, teasing him for not always arriving on time. 

Unperturbed, Shen Wei chides Zhao Yunlan for not listening to his warning, and Zhao Yunlan defends himself in a very playful kind of manner, adding that he’s not leaving his people behind. To Shen Wei, this is to be expected, so instead of arguing he goes into a lot of detail on how the road ahead is dangerous, as if he is not really expecting Zhao Yunlan to accept help. 

He is wrong of course: proud though he may be, Chief Zhao knows when he is outgunned and outnumbered, and only grins, happy for the Envoy to join him on his mission. 

Shen Wei and Zhao Yunlan exploring the cave is interspersed with pretty damn harrowing scenes of Zhu Jiu torturing Wang Zheng as her trapped lover screams for mercy. It’s a lot; in fact it’s so much even the cave ghosts attempt to intervene, because while they may be very much pro-murder, they are evidently anti-torture. 

As the two keep exploring, they bump into another three of the beasts, which Shen Wei slays in three slick moves. It’s actually pretty cool, despite slightly sketchy teleportation effects.

“Wow!”

(Apparently, this “wow” made Zhu Yilong corpse so much he nearly laughed his mask off. Which sounds adorable)

Shen Wei proceeds to inquire Zhao Yunlan about the gun, party to confirm that it is indeed the dark energy weapon he knows, and partly having noticed that the other man failed to fire it. I wonder how many times Zhao Yunlan froze in the past, considering how easily he once again slips into his mask of playful deflection, claiming that he never planned to fire the gun at all. It’s almost tragic how this person keeps feeling like he needs to prove his own capabilities over and over again. 

Interestingly enough, in this particular case Hei Pao Shi actually does own up to a weakness. It’s calculated: he knows this is something Zhao Yunlan must already be aware of, but still, “full disclosure” is not something Shen Wei usually does when it comes to his own capacities. 

What he admits to, on the other hand, does not seem very consistent with the rest of the show. He says that he can only use half of his power above ground, which - okay. But he also states that he can’t spend a lot of time here, and I am a little bit… confused? He lives above ground. He spends absolute majority of his time here. I really don’t want to think of this as a writing inconsistency, so please let me know what I have missed; I’ll appreciate it. 

Hearing the admission, Zhao Yunlan grows serious for once, asking which they they should be going next. Shen Wei barely smothers a smug smirk seconds before he scries the surroundings with unbelievable panache.

Show off

Unfortunately, his search does not yield any result, as whatever readings he is getting are muddled by the Hallow. Luckily for them, and to Shen Wei’s great dismay, Zhao Yunlan has the Dial on him which he is uses as a compass. 

Shen Wei’s wordless reaction conveys a million questions from “what the hell?” to “are you completely stupid?”

Instead of asking any of those things, he settles for a more neutral “I’ve told you not to use the Hallows.”

“You are very much like a friend of mine”, remarks Zhao Yunlan. 

Which is, incidentally, also the title of this episode. 

Even behind the mask it’s clear to see Shen Wei’s blind panic as he realises he may have just blown his cover sky high. Fortunately, Zhao Yunlan reads the reaction as bashfulness rather than existential despair, and laughs it off. 

Now that they know which way to go, they finally make it to the chamber which houses the pillar/totem, which now has Wang Zheng tied to it. 

This show sure does like tying their characters to totems containing souls of people significant to them, huh?

In all seriousness though, as parallels go, this one is… uh… unparalleled. 

(I am so very sorry.)

Zhao Yunlan makes a move towards his trapped subordinate, but Hei Pao Shi, again in a way which is extremely Shen Wei-like, grabs at his arm, stopping him in his tracks. 

Zhao Yunlan obediently halts, and calls Zhu Jiu out, correctly guessing that the Undergrounder lured them here deliberately. Shen Wei, on the other hand, relays in a hushed tone information what he had observed so far: namely, that the Hallow stored here is the Dire Awl, and that something is incredibly fishy about Wang Zheng.

As he does so, he is staring at Zhao Yunlan’s lips. It is neither the time, nor the place, but hey, I’m not complaining.

They have a brief discussion about the next moves, in which Shen Wei just says he would like to try something, and Zhao Yunlan nods, letting him do it without asking for any details. 

Flashback 3: the Backstory. 

We hear the full tragic tale of Ge Lan and Sang Zan: how they met, representatives of the warring sides of the conflict, two people from two different worlds; how their love did not stop the awful bloodshed; how it could not be enough to overpower the politics; how it lead to Ge Lan’s death, and, finally, how Sang Zan could not bring her back to him. They hear how the man changed once he lost the only person he cared about. 

Zhao Yunlan is visibly moved by this story, recognising echoes of it in himself. 

“The most basic dignity of a man is to ensure that the person in his heart stays safe. If the person I love gets destroyed in my own hands ruined under the system I established myself, it’s very likely I’ll hate these people more than I hated the former tribe leader.”

How much did he harden after his mother was taken away from him? How much of his initial hatred of all those from the Underground stems from that day? And, of course, how much will it break him when he will not be gifted this dignity in his own future? 

Shen Wei is near vibrating with how much his very soul resonates with the tale he has just heard. He, who has met someone from the other world, who was lost that person, is visibly weighed down by his own memories.

“That’s right. Even if they’re cut into a myriad of pieces, the hatred would be hard to dissolve.”

Zhao Yunlan stares at the other man, astounded, wondering what hardships and losses the Envoy endured in his long and eventful life, as the episode draws to a close.

And I am left here trying to soothe my aching heart, bruised once more by this show’s relentless fatalism. 

Next up, episode 11: Oh Boy Do I Have Sword Opinions 

---

Notes. 

Look. It’s been a long week okay. Besides, I am basically marathoning my way through Zhu Yilong’s entire filmography. 

The normal service in terms of analysis will hopefully resume next week. 

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 122

Annnnd WE’RE BACK!

Thank you so much for your patience during the hiatus. Work is still crazy, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel there *crosses fingers*. And I was able to build back up my cushion of chapters, so that was a huge win for me.

As a reminder, this is a skip forward roughly 4 years from chapter 121. So, if you read a bit and start to wonder “wait, did I miss something?”, you probably didn’t and it’s most likely something I am going to circle back to.  Don’t be a afraid to shoot me an ask, however, if you are just really thrown off by something! I’ll gladly clarify unless it’s something plot-specific.

Thanks, as always, go to @baelpenrose, @raven-fae, and @charlylimph-blog.  By the way, Raven is working on a podcast of The Miys, which I am incredibly stoked about. Please follow @glimmeringfeatherspodcast for updates!

I carefully adjusted my glasses as I suppressed a giggle at Noah, who was swarmed with small yellow puffs of fuzz.  In the last seven years since their discovery, Else’s hyper-fast evolution hadn’t slowed down much, although Grey did promise that it had slowed down. Noah buzzed at the puff resting on one of its vomu, eliciting a purr. “I believe they learned this behavior from Mac.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised,” I admitted. “I caught him playing with several of them a couple days ago.”

“I have observed them together on frequent occasions.” Reaching up, it plucked another puff from the top of its head. “I cannot hear if you sit on my sensory organs, podling.”  Soon after Else evolved to the point they could live outside of a habitat tank, Miys had developed a tendency to treat them like its own young, and generally had several of them perched somewhere.

“How many of them are there now?” I asked, reaching out slightly before stopping myself from petting the closest canary-sized fluff. “Else, can I pick you up?”

In response, it bounced onto my hand.  I’d noticed how little they spoke now, but Miys had assured us it was a normal stage in hive-being evolution - once Else became too large to actually fit in our bodies, it wasn’t able to communicate through the translator chip.  At this stage, it could still hear us, but communicating back was a work in process.  Mostly, they just trilled and chirped.

“Currently, there are five hundred and seven thousand, six hundred and twenty-three.”

“They’re very adaptable,” I observed.

With the one free vomu it had, Noah made a nodding gesture. “Most species that reach sentience are. We are able to observe Else’s evolution on a much shorter time scale than most, as well. Consider humanity’s evolution, and imagine seeing it take place in years rather than over the course of millenia.”

“I know,” I laughed. “But seeing it is way more incredible than imagining it.” I adjusted my glasses again, eliciting the buzz that usually meant Noah was exasperated with me.

“Why do humans insist on using those instead of having their eyes repaired?”

“My eyes aren’t damaged,” I reminded it. “And you did repair my eyes. I’m wearing these because my eyes are working right. You know this.”

“In principle, not in practice.”

It was my turn to sigh. “Our eyes evolved to work in a specific kind of light. Earth’s sun is yellow, I think? But Von’s sun is more blue.” I gestured at the light emitters in the corridor. “When the light is in the twilight cycle like this, some humans can’t see as well as we could in Earth-twilight. Hence the glasses.”

“Sight is so inefficient.”

I just shook my head. I couldn’t exactly argue. “Between the light and the gravity, it’s been a huge adjustment.”

“You have all adjusted in quite - innovative ways,” Noah replied. “My kind have done many of these relocations. Not all species adapt well.”

“What was it you called it?” I squinted, both from trying to see what was ahead of me and from thinking. I’m going to have to talk to someone about some flashlights, I swear… “We ‘persist’?”

“Humans are remarkably stubborn, yes,” it confirmed. “As Arthur Farro seems to prefer explaining it, your species began space travel by attaching chemical ignition drives to your posteriors.”

Even after so long, some things just did not translate. “Yep, we very much strapped a rocket to our asses to achieve spaceflight,” I laughed. “Everything on Earth kind of evolved and adapted like that. We learned what wouldn’t poison us by watching others die from eating it, that kind of thing. Even our superstitions, and later our laws, were basically ‘hey, let’s not do this, it kills people’.” A liw made its way into my line of sight, rocking to mimic a confused head-tilt. “You rescued us for our sight, not because we are a particularly bright species.”

“I understand that the polite thing to do, according to your customs, is to object to that statement, however I have been told on several occasions that I lack any skill in falsehoods.”

“We bombed ourselves back to the Stone Age the second we hit our highest peak in technology.” I reached out and patted what would have been a shoulder on a human. “You don’t have to lie about that. Arthur has studied an absurd percentage of human history. Even from a scholarly perspective, I am assured we are a singularly idiotic race. Besides, we’d already ruined an entire planet at that point...”

“It has evidenced itself to be a lesson well-learned.” It returned the pat, gently. “For a species historically inclined to warfare, those on the Yjq have demonstrated a profound proclivity toward peace.”

“Trying to keep it that way, bud,” I admitted.

Removing yet another puff from its sensory organs, Noah continued. “Please be assured, also, that Terrans are far from ‘singularly’ idiotic.  There are many species in the Galactic Community that are demonstrably lacking in what you refer to as ‘common sense’.”

Noah was still a terrible gossip. “Do tell,” I asked, crossing my mental fingers that we weren’t the worst out there.

“Preeyar,” it listed immediately.

“The rift-valley avians?”

“The same. They experience terrible reactions to liquid water, and yet they are fascinated by fountains and insist upon touching them!” Startled chirps erupted as all six appendages on Noah’s upper body flung out in frustration. “Any vessel transporting Preeyar has specific instructions on how to treat the resulting burns.”

I had to admit, that was pretty bad. “Terrans at least learn not to touch things that will burn us by the time we can speak, usually.” My nose tickled as several little Else-puffs migrated over to me, upset by the grand gesture from my friend.  I was almost glad it was so difficult for humans to see in the corridor, because I probably looked absurd.

“Shalt’krii are somehow just as difficult,” Noah confessed. “As a species that have what you term an ‘allergy’ to sonic waves - they develop painful rashes and can have seizures when exposed. Yet, it is entirely inevitable when transporting a large group that several will have forgotten or neglected to bring dampeners.”

“Oh my gosh,” I gasped, trying not to laugh and upset Else again. “How?”

“It has eluded the Galactic Council since they joined. The dampeners are far less barbaric than what the So-K’nor do to resolve a similar concern, but I must privately admit that the So-K’nor are at least more consistent and effective.”

Well, yeah, deliberately deafening yourself permanently when you go off-world tends to be that way, I thought to myself. I knew I didn’t need to say it out loud, but I also knew that Noah would not address my thoughts out loud. “Okay, maybe we aren’t that bad,” I granted. “I think the worst we do is ingest mild poisons.”

“On an alarmingly frequent basis, yes. Including plants native to your world that actually attempt to digest you as you eat them.”

I shook my head. “Not this girl. I don’t like pineapple.”

“And the number of humans on the ship who willingly consume lactic acid, knowing it will cause them digestive distress?” If it had eyebrows, they would be arching, I just knew it.

“You have pointed out several times over the years that you can’t taste,” I pointed out. “So you have no idea how tempting cheese can be.”

Noah shook one vomu like a head. “Incorrect. Having witnessed the sheer amount of it that Tyche consumed once she realized that you were not lactose intolerant, there is empirical evidence to support your claim.”

Unconsciously, my hand jumped to touch my left ear before I could force it down. “I remember the spicy food,” I said carefully, stroking one of the fluffs on my arms. “But I didn’t know about the cheese. Come to think of it - “ I stopped in my tracks and turned to face Noah directly, “Why weren’t the consoles just adjusted to make all the food… I dunno, lactose-free, I guess?”

Two liw reached to pluck several yellow beings from my arms and head as Noah used one vomu to start ticking reasons. “One, because I was specifically asked not to by Grey Hodenson and Xiomara Kalloe, the consensus being that bovines are, in fact, in the genetic database. Two, because that was attempted several weeks before you were brought on board, and I was tempted to damage my sensory organs to block out the sheer number of complaints regarding how everything tasted.”  Thankfully, its vomu was still empty when it flung outward. “Do you have any idea how difficult it is to accommodate requests regarding something you do not experience?”

I felt slightly ashamed. “Not entirely, no.” Trying to lighten the mood slightly, I felt the need to point out “Besides, I really like goat cheese.”

“Something about chetter and mootsareeleh,” Noah grumbled.

“Ohhhhh,” I whispered. “Eyeah… do not mess with Italians’ mozzarella, I have learned. And cheddar does have a very specific flavor. I can see those being very loud complaints.”

“In eight Terran years, I am still confused why the color of the chetter is a determining factor, as well as how something so soft can be compared to an edged weapon.”

I felt like I was going to explode from suppressed laughter. I had to stop, tears streaming down my face, and catch my breath. “Oh, Noah… I honestly don’t know if I can explain that, but I can try…”

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[ommsims]

story process challenge

i was tagged  by @xldkx​​ to do this challenge, created by @herpixels​​​ , like a month? a month and a half? ago and it’s been sitting half finished in my drafts for nearly as long. *sigh* (regardless, i love stuff like this so even if it takes me forever to get to it, i appreciate the tags! 💕). 

i decided to answer all the qs because it took me damn long enough to get to this, so i might as well put some extra elbow grease into it (plus it was fun!). btw it’s all going under a cut b/c it is long. i apologize in advance.

1. My Writing Process - used to be a hot damn mess. literally word docs strewn throughout my pc. However, I recently switched to using Onenote (it’s what i use to organize my d&d campaign notes) and hoo-boy is it so much nicer. this is how it’s set up and it’s honestly night and day. i can have a page with outlines, a page to organize & order screenshots, and a separate page for drafting text, and i can easily toggle though them without having to switch windows? a big thumbs up from me.

When it comes to actual writing- I used to write my drafts in novel format, which i enjoyed but it made “converting” them into tumblr posts time consuming and frustrating. I ended up scrapping most of the text in the process, retaining pretty much only the dialogue. 

Anyway, nowadays I write in more of a screenplay format: dialogue only + key scene information with the occasional note to self. 

I do keep a master “arcs” page with key events and each individual character’s arc from beginning to end and secondary “outline” pages with slightly more detailed outline for each leg of the project. No screencaps b/c spoilers galore! 

My typical work flow process for a scene goes: (1) brainstorm scene ideas, (2) take screenshots, (3) organize screenshots into a rough storyboard, (4) add 1st draft of text, (5) edit photos, (6) edit text, (7) upload to "drafts” here on tumblr, (8) let sit for a bit (9) take a final look at things/proofread and edit as needed. It may sound counterintuitive, but i find it much easier to write dialogue for a set of images rather than attempt to take images based on prewritten text. I feel more comfortable editing and tweaking tone and content in the text this way. Otherwise, I get frustrated when I “can’t” shoot a scene exactly as it appeared in my head.

2. How I build my scenes - A lot of what i do is rooted in gameplay, therefore my sets are usually (a) play-tested and (b) not super pretty. I’ve certainly improved at decorating & building over the years but more often than not I download lots off tumblr and the gallery because I don’t have the patience, aptitude, or time to build all of my own sets. That being said, I frequently gut builds only to build a number of completely unrelated mini sets inside to reduce the number of times i have to replace lots. I also keep a list of “important locations” and where certain characters live / will move to, to help keep this all straight as there aren’t nearly enough lots per neighborhood or even per world in this damn game...

my least favorite part of scene building is actually decorating. lol. Don’t get me wrong, I love clutter. I honestly do. but fuck me if i expect myself to spend hours meticulously decorating a set, spend another 3 hours toggling back and forth b/w BB & live modes adjusting things to get rid of the damn routing errors. (yeah, yeah, i know i could ignore them, they’re not important, especially in those scenarios where i’m using a set for screenshots and nothing else, but idk. it really grinds my gears.) and then have to replace the lot like a week later because there aren’t enough lots in the game. *sigh*

3. CC/Pose Making - i do not consider myself to be a cc creator nor a pose maker but i do dabble occasionally. And to be completely honest i’d much rather spend my time doing other stuff, so it’s not high on my list of priorities atm. plus there are so many talented cc creators in this community; i can usually get by with what’s already out there.

4. Getting in the zone - Honestly, I do a lot of brainstorming for plot & dialogue in the shower. I don’t have any particular playlists to get me “in the writing mood” but I do enjoy listening to music as I work. Either instrumental stuff or simply artists/songs I like. If something just so happens to “fit” a scene I’m working on, one i’ve got planned, or even just gives me vibes for a certain character or group, I add a quick note to the top of said scene’s draft. Most of the time I stick it in the recesses of my brain and add a quick link when I finally get to the point of posting the draft to tumblr. For whatever reason, when I have one of those “oh this song is perfect for X” moments it’s essentially ingrained in my mind for the rest of eternity. 

5. The screenshot folder - this will most likely give some of you out there major anxiety. but i swear it’s an organized chaos. :)

yep. 32.9gb of screenshots & related things... 

So with the raws from a single random scene selected, you can see i take roughly 10 screenshots per image posted. not terrible i guess but i’m working on it. Typically I take screenshots and once I’m done editing a scene I’ll move them from the general folder to a more specific project folder.

6. Captions - I’ll answer this in three parts:

for my townie story. not really. I prefer using the text box. I tend to write (& re-write) the dialogue for each one of these scenes several times over as I add more “scenes” into my drafts. It would be incredibly inefficient, time consuming, and would waste a lot more space on my pc to have to save .psds of each image just so i could edit dialogue when I decide: “oh hey maybe so and so needs to bring up X in this scene” and then change my mind an hour later.

for niko, noor, & co. I’m a text on image type gal here. don’t really know why, but it gives the project a different energy. ironically it makes it feel more laid-back to me. which i guess makes sense, it’s a much more light-hearted “story” than my townie project. which is, imo, very soapy haha.

for legacy stuff. all text goes below the images in the text box. reasoning: it’s gameplay, I don’t brainstorm, outline, or pre-write for this. I play the game, take screenshots, plug ‘em into my drafts and write some commentary / dialogue to go along with it.

7. Editing - i am a creature of habit and have not majorly changed my editing process in probably a year and a half (when I began using reshade and had to adjust my color correcting psd). it’s a super basic system:

drag & drop my “color correction” psd.

run actions in ps. (i made my own “all-in-one” actions to really streamline the process; i have different “actions sets” for my premades’ story and for other things that get posted to tumblr. even if no one else notices it, i like the little details that keep my projects separate and “identifiable”. 

voila. all set to upload.

sometimes i crop images, add “text effects”, or do more in depth editing (i.e. editing a phone screen or adding rain etc.) but overall i try and keep it simple for myself. 

8. Throwback - i posted an image of one of the first (but never posted) scenes I’d written for my townie project up above. but as for how would i redo a scene i’d already posted. well i’m currently re-doing my townie story so i guess i’ll just say you’ll see how it’s redone when i get to part 1! 😉

anyway, no tags because i’m so embarrassingly late to this party but if you hadn’t gotten around to this tag, wanted to do it but didn’t get a tag, or started it and left it to sit and now you’re thinking “oh god that was months ago should i even post this anymore?!?” consider yourself tagged by me and go ahead and post it for all to see!

[radramblog]

Every Mono-Black Commander, Part 4: Designed for the Format

In what will be the penultimate edition of this weekly word stream, the cards steadily on average get better, as WoTC realises commander is the most popular format and starts designing specifically for the format. On the other hand, people don’t play lots of these cool and interesting cards because everyone’s obsessed with “multicolour”, the cowards.

Moving on.

Sidis, Undead Vizier (245 decks, 25th most played)

Sidisi is one of those cards I’m surprised sees as much play as it does. Not because it’s bad, but because it seems to belong a lot better in the 99 than in the zone- they’re pretty much just a tutor with a body attached, after all. For a while, though, it was the only commander you could run that was a pure tutor, so if you were into just comboing people out it’s probably not a bad idea.

I think part of the reason I underrate this card is that I always assume it’s 6 mana. And it’s a lot better at 5 than it is at 6. And you can always just sacrifice itself if you really want your commander to just be an overpriced Diabolic Tutor.

 Kothophed, Soul Hoarder (29 decks, 73rd most played)

I actually rate Kothophed a bit higher than I think most do. While as the 2nd of Lilliana’s demons he was obviously a fair bit weaker than the extremely banned Griselbrand, and the only one of the 4 not to be mythic, he does do a couple things really well.

For one, he draws a lot of cards. Things are going to the graveyard all the time, especially in multiplayer, and he makes the artifact/aristocrat decks think twice about popping off. The other is that he’s super cheap, at like 40 cents a pop. And I appreciate that, especially considering some of the cards surrounding him.

 Liliana, Heretical Healer//Liliana, Defiant Necromancer (645 decks, 9th most played)

Baby Lilli herself looks a lot better than Ob Nixilis of the Black Oath as far as Planeswalker commanders goes, and it’s therefore unsurprising that she breaks the top 10. Everybody loves Planeswalkers, lots of people like Lilliana both as a card and a character, and the card that puts her in the zone is quite solid.

What does she do, though? Well, of the 6 Creature->Planeswalker transform cards, she’s one of the three that can theoretically flip the turn you play her without a haste effect (and Nicol Bolas is only on that list by technicality, because that’s a loooot of mana), and it’s not particularly hard to do so considering the colour she’s in. She then protects herself a little with a Zombie token and acts as basically a multiplayer-tuned Lilliana of the Veil, with a bigger number on her plus and minuses that better suit commander. This lets her work quite well for discard decks, reanimator decks, aristocrats decks, zombie decks, and of course, Lilliana decks. She’s just really solid overall, making up somewhat for the fragility of walkers in the format by being cheap and making herself a blocker.

 Drana, Liberator of Malakir (82 decks, 49th most played)

Drana I guess could be used as a tribal or Voltron commander of some description, but to be frank, she’s here for one thing- aggro. Anthem effects are uncommon in black, and Drana just piles on so many counters in such an efficient manner that she kinda makes up for that on her own. I’ve actually never seen anyone piloting a Drana deck (of any of the three Dranas, actually), so I don’t know exactly how effective it is, but putting her at the helm of a stack of tokens or efficient threats just sounds scary. I’m pretty sure she’s only liberating Malakir from its remaining life points.

 Kalitas, Traitor of Ghet (124 decks, 38th most played)

Kalitas seeing this much play…actually frustrates me, seeing as he’s basically just a hate piece. Like yeah, he has another ability, and he makes tokens, but come on. You’re just playing this for the exile clause, and it’s never going to make you any friends. Headcrab Vampire over here doesn’t do anything much if your opponents just wait til he’s off the field to do anything spicy, and in that case, what are you doing with him? Very inefficiently voltronning up? Gaining 3 life? It’s a bit sad. I don’t really like him.

 Gonti, Lord of Luxury (550 decks, 11th most played)

Aww man, they’re not in the top 10 anymore? Fucking Tergrid.

Gonti is another card advantage commander, but everything on them lines up to make both a fun and a powerful effect. They’re not too expensive, and in addition to effectively drawing a card, deathtouch makes them a great way to dissuade attacks from other players. Their ETB not only acts as card selection, but it also gives you access to effects mono-black lacks, silver bullets you don’t play, or just surprise threats that vastly open up your options. They can whiff, sure, but that doesn’t happen especially often.

I’m biased, because my Gonti deck is among my favourite of my 100-card children, but Gonti is just such a fun commander that I don’t even mind the lack of direction they hand you. I run them as grindy valuey control, but they work great as the helm of flicker, theft, and even Aetherborn tribal decks as well. Just a stellar little commander.

 Yahenni, Undying Partisan (306 decks, 21st most played)

Speaking of Aetherborn, Yahenni is also here, and I really appreciate that the two Aetherborn commanders we got are both really cool both in game and in the lore. Shame about most of the rest of the tribe being draft trash. Also, WoTC brought all sorts of old tribes back into the limelight for Commander Legends and the Modern Horizons sets, so where are the new Aetherborn at? Wizards pls.

Yahenni themselves is a pretty interesting commander. Their effects combine into a powerful package more subtle than their flavour text suggests- they not only are a threatening body, as a hasty commander that grows significantly as the game progresses, but they’re also incredibly sticky- a free sacrifice outlet that protects itself from most removal. They’re just a card where all the pieces come together just right, and I appreciate that a lot. One job and that’s aristocrats, but they’re good at it!

 Bontu, the Glorified (59 decks, 57th most played)

When we finally got eyes on the Amonkhet gods, I think Bontu was my least favourite. Like, she’s hard to turn on, and has to be done repeatedly? A 3 mana 4/6 menace is a lot, but not enough to justify that in my opinion. And that activated ability is painfully mediocre.

At this point I like Kefnet less, but that’s just because I’ve cast him a bunch of times and I’m pretty sure he’s done nothing most of those times. Both of them are just kind of shithouse though. I expected more from the Magic equivalent of Set.

 Razaketh, the Foulblooded (74 decks, 54th most played)

The only thing foul about Razaketh is that mana cost. 8 mana, holy shit. But you get paid off for it, don’t ya? A free-ish sac outlet that, oh, also just demonic tutors. If you have an infinite combo in your deck, this’ll get it.

I wouldn’t be surprised if Razaketh decks therefore get focussed pretty hard once people recognize the power in the zone. Like, running him as a commander is basically saying “sup once I get to 8 mana y’all are fucked”, and in that case people are going to do all they can to stop you getting to 8 mana, whether by blowing up your rocks or just killing your face and dudes. Perhaps consider an alternate route if you don’t like getting beaten up.

 Spike, Tournament Grinder (N/A)

Aight, this is kinda cheating, but shshshsh it’s fine. Now, I’m not sure exactly how this works in the zone, but I’m just assuming it can get any “spikey” card that fits within your colour identity? Or maybe it’s just anything. Either way, this gets some bonkers shit.

Even if we assume it’s only legal commander cards in identity, Spike can still draw you some funny things. Dark Ritual, Crucible of Worlds, Bitterblossom, Demonic Tutor, Ancient Tomb, and that’s just the first page. If we do include commander-banned cards, then you can also use them as a spicy secret commander for such hits as Griselbrand, Emrakul, or Braids. Overall, they’re definitely fair and balanced. Un-Commanders when.

 Tetzimoc, Primal Death (15 decks, 86th most played)

Oh, Tetzy. I love this stupid stupid card, one that seems to get worse the bigger the decks get. And by that I mean, it’s completely stupid broken in its original draft format, fringe playable in Standard at the time (and by that I mean… I mean I played it), and thoroughly mediocre in Commander. And that’s in the 99, because much like Haakon and Phage he doesn’t work in the zone. He’s a fair bit easier to enable than they are, but it’s for much, much less payoff. Alas poor Tetzimoc.

 Demonlord Belzenlok (110 decks, 41st most played)

The last Lilliana contract demon, and the first Dominaria card of the 6 we got to talk about. Belzenlok’s ability is frustratingly awkward, however- while it will never draw you land, in my experience you’re rarely drawing more than two cards off it, and one is very common. Because the thing is, in order to support the dummy thick cards Belzenlok likes to see, you need a lot of cheap ramp and draw, which he does not like to see. And said ability takes up all the space on his textbox that could be used on other things. He’s basically okay, but I don’t see running this over basically any other demon.

I mean, he’s in my Gonti deck, but that’s besides the point, making a fatty and drawing cards is what that deck’s about.

 Josu Vess, Lich Knight (69 decks, 55th most played)

Lilliana’s dead brother is an army in a can that packs a mean punch- 20 menace power is absolutely nothing to sneeze at- but 10 mana is monstrous. And casting him for 4 is just not worth it, especially since it makes that 10 into 12 next time. With that said, I recall once a Dominaria draft on arena where I used Muldrotha to cast this guy kicked twice in a row, and while this might just be magical Christmas land, getting to reroll this guy repeatedly with Disentomb effects might be spicy. You can just bury people in Zombies, ain’t that fun? I mean, it’s still 10 mana, so that’s a lot, but yknow

I guess you can also sac the tokens to some variety of altar, but that’s boooooring.

 Torgaar, Famine Incarnate (99 decks, 44th most played)

Wait, if it’s Famine Incarnate, why is it an Avatar instead of an Incarnation?

I’m woefully unfamiliar with Torgaar, but it seems like a relatively effective general. It hits that 7 mark for a three-hit commander damage kill, while being able to cost as little as two mana, which is enough on its own- but  that chunky power also helps with that second ability, setting someone to 20, assuming other people are willing to help pick up the slack. Fuck your infinite life combo, back down to the ground with the rest of us.

Honestly, this guy just looks really fun. It’s nice that in a pinch you can just have them gain you up to 19 life (or more I guess if you’re Platinum Angel-ing), and they don’t seem broken enough to garner hate. Not bad, potentially underrated.

 Urguros, the Empty One (29 decks, 73rd most played)

On the other hand, I’m not sure why you’d pick this of all cards to head your deck. Looking at it, though, it’s mostly just Spectre tribal, which makes sense to me. Don’t think there’s another Legendary Spectre outside of changelings, though that would at least get you Blazing Spectre.

Shoutouts for Spectre being one of the words with different spelling in America that people don’t know about as well.

Urguros is not a powerful commander. They’re slow and their effect is weak. But if you’re running them, you don’t care about power, you care about creature type, and that’s fine too.

 Whisper, Blood Liturgist (150 decks, 33rd most played)

Oh, ok. blood liturgist.

Jokes aside, Whisper is more popular than I would have expected. Considering they’re basically reverse Victimize, I’m surprised that people are so into them when that card exists.

Ohh, wait, there’s probably a bunch of infinites with this and Thornbite Staff, huh. Yeahhh, that scans. Though even outside of combo bullshit, I bet they get a bunch of fun value stuff with army-in-a-can-type creatures like Abhorrent Overlord and Sengir Autocrat. Shame about the stats.

 Yargle, Glutton of Urborg (208 decks, 27th most played)

A literal vanilla creature, Yargle has overcome the odds to bargle into the hearts of many. The undeniable Best Frog Commander (Gitrog players do not interact), Yargle has clearly captured as many hearts as he’s eaten, considering he got his own Secret Lair filled with cards he can’t really play. His bit in the lore was also kind of hilarious, nearly killing all the protagonists until Muldrotha deus-ex-mythic rare-d him out of there.

The thing is, Yargle is not even that bad aside from the meme. He might be literally vanilla, butt he has 9 fucking power for 5 mana. He’s probably one of the cheapest creatures that breaches the 3-hit rule, and only needs 2 more to get down to 2. And 2 power isn’t super hard. Strap this bad boy with a sword or two and you can just gettem. Let alone the fact that he one-shots things with Tainted Strike. Or Grafted Exoskeleton. Or just about anything plus Fireshrieker. Unironically one of Mono-Black’s best Voltron options.

 Isareth the Awakener (30 decks, 70th most played)

Skipping the Battlebond cards because…who plays Virtus or Regna solo… brings us to the painfully mediocre Isareth. A 3 mana 3/3 that lets you cast one thing from your yard, and only if she risks her own life. And you still have to pay for the reanimate. And it gets the exile clause as well. Man, this was the same cycle as Goreclaw and Sai, too. Hell, I even like Lena more after I designed a deck around her. This just sucks. Like, I cannot imagine playing this over Chainer or something.

 The Haunt of Hightower (168 decks, 31st most played)

Speaking of Voltron, this Buy-a-Box exclusive is basically a self-sufficient beast of a flyer. Cards go into opponent’s graveyards all the time, and one mass mill effect makes this thing get huge fast as fuck. Add in lifelink so it keeps you going and all it’s really missing is the ability to protect itself, and there’re equipment for that.

On the other hand, it’s 6 mana and a 3/3 base, so if you aren’t able to get things in bins (or if a Rest in Peace/Leyline of the Void is out) it basically isn’t doing anything. And Flying is a much worse keyword in commander than one would think, being probably the most common Evasion mechanic. But I think this haunty boy is still solid.

 God-Eternal Bontu (81 decks, 48th most played)

If only the rest of us could age so gracefully. Er, die so gracefully, I guess. Zombie Set is kind of a beating, turning all sorts of useless shash into pure cash. And she can go to your deck if the zone is getting too costly, and she’s a cool crocodile zombie god.

Unfortunately, she does suffer from being an ETB-effect commander, which always feels a bit more mid than I’d like- they do their thing and then just…sit there… and unlike Gonti she doesn’t deter attacks that well. She does attack pretty alright herself, but it’s only 5 power and can’t even trade with two 3/3s. And it’s harder to fuel this all-or-nothing kind of ability repeatedly. There are a few (crocodile?) rocks to use, as well as chump creatures that crave death, but fill your deck with those and that’s all you’ll draw. It’s…fine. She’s fine.

 Massacre Girl (285 decks, 22nd most played)

The final card under the magnifying glass today, and probably still the best boardwipe/commander combo. Massacre Girl basically just kills everything, provided things aren’t too massive and there’s fodder around to bite the dust first. If anyone played Hearthstone back when I did, she’s basically a way, way better Defile.

Wait, that’s also a Magic name now isn’t it, shit.

I still think the notorious M.G. goes better in the deck than the zone, but I suppose control decks would appreciate having one of the things they crave most- board clears- available at a moment’s notice. And if you’re building around her, then you can fill your deck with the fodder that fuels her best. But I’m not sure where you win from there.

Ehhh, probably just Revel in Riches.

This brings us to the end of this edition of Black Commanders, and to the start of 2019. Which means the remaining 21 cards all came out in the last 2.5 years, which speaks a lot to how much they were designing cards for commander, and how many sets they’ve been coming out with. Until then.

[everydayanth]

Having followed the science side of cannabis over the past few years with J working on research teams around the US, this is all shit that NEEDS to be talked about. 

The cannabis industry is full of rich ass bros and I have so many stories I don’t even know where to start. As a complete outsider moving with J, I had a front-row seat to confusion and chaos, and as someone who grew up poor in a diverse neighborhood and schools (which I am incredibly thankful for), then studying social science, the sudden immersion into the world of Cannabis was a wakeup call for me. I understood the theory of white privilege, I understood the application of it and how it worked, but there’s an economic component I never had access to. I was on the same free lunch programs and going through the same foreclosure threats as my neighbors, and I didn’t fully understand the racial component of that until I saw it in Cannabis. 

When J got dropped into Cannabis research because of a sudden start-up failing to follow its investor requirements working in biotech (it was a big deal, so I’m not going to mention specifics, since we’re still in an odd place with all this), we had moved to the west coast from the midwest where Cannabis was still 100% illegal and problematic. I grew up in the midst of gang wars over drugs, calling it Marijuana (can you hear the white accent?) and being warned about the devil. I’d witnessed several people murdered over Cannabis in my neighborhood through gang violence, or else locked up by police for seemingly no reason. 

Cannabis and minority culture were very much intertwined in my mind, and I understood it as a cultural difference from my white religious family, who fought among themselves about alcohol allowance according to God, and respected the law selectively (so the whole “bUt It’S iLlEgAl” argument was a joke).

Cannabis was in the same debate as beers, wines, and liquors, but it still held memories of violence for me. Though I know those incidents were more about power, control, survival, and a means around a racist system now, at the time of moving to the west coast, Cannabis was a duality to me: a misunderstood cultural component, a criminalized tool for a racist agenda, and a thing I saw so many depend on when life got too hard in the way of alcoholics – a thing that would stop me from leaving if I let it too close. 

J came into biotech from a pre-med/criminal justice education. He is very well versed in the War on Drugs and the legal history of the US being a racist, white supremacist agenda for cultural, legal, and economic authority through institutions like religion, education, and law. For him, Cannabis and minority cultures, both Mexican and Black American (and, as we learned from friends in southern California, also in many ways Native American) were intertwined as well.

So when his company dropped him into Cannabis, then moved us around several times with unfulfilled promises and broken contracts, both of us were new to Cannabis and astounded at the whiteness of the industry. Of course the white stoners of the 60s and 70s were spearheading it though, they had the money and their minority counterparts were in prison. It’s wrong, it needs to change. But I was naive to be surprised by it. 

What really affected me though, was the people with money. They were everywhere in the industry and they were old-money white or upper-middle class converted drug-dealer white. But by all accounts of my and J’s education and experience, it should be a minority-lead industry, right? People whose cultures value the cultivation of the plant should have far more interest, ability, and practical/research knowledge. But they were cut out by the nepotism, money, and white privilege (i.e. criminal justice system). 

The science initiative was: analyzing this plant will help us understand the pieces of it and what can be used medicinally or how it is currently helping so many conditions. A great intent, J even got to work with some amazing researchers, but science needs money. So the focus quickly shifted again and again to investors. 

And the investors were always white. They were always men. And in my experience, they were genuinely horrible people. 

We felt so stuck. Exhausted, our stuff had been in storage for years, contracts were falling through, we never knew where we were going or when. This wasn’t cushy science or higher academia, because universities get federal funding, so they can’t invest in something that’s federally illegal without jumping a lot of hurdles. Additionally, many minorities can’t afford to invest in something that is federally illegal. It’s a bigger risk, a vulnerable position to make your interest known as a minority in the industry – not with the prison and arrest ratio numbers the way they are. 

The investors and businessmen were playboys. They talked about bitcoin and big money, went to clubs and cheated on their wives and girlfriends, and tokenized, exoticized, and appropriated minority culture. They invested in research until they made the start-ups worth something with the promise of science, then withdrew their investments and stocks, doubling their fortunes and dissolving the company. Or, as was most often the case, just cutting the research budget after using the science research as an attraction for other investors, and hoping the science guys would quit before they got fired. If they quit, they’d be bound by the do not compete clause and couldn’t use the research with a competing company, which means the current start-up could retain the IP. But they would hang on for long enough to have to be let go, taking their IP and starting again.

They should have started their own lab instead of relying on a company to fund them. But to get a license to work with Cannabis as a plant, as a thing that can’t even cross state lines or be in a lab with out a license/card, you need to qualify by state standards, and generally only the big companies do. So even if they started their own place, they’d have to leave Cannabis, and at that point, they had some incredible research halfway done that could be really meaningful and helpful to a lot of people. Working in several states, the message became clear: this industry is a playground for people with money to make more money and everyone in charge wants to keep it that way.

I’m not in a place yet where I can consolidate my experience as an outsider with an ethnographic distance. I get a pit in my stomach when I think of an investor who took us out to dinner in Seattle. J was working tirelessly, doing 3 people’s jobs because they refused to hire more people despite having the money, he filled in basic hourly positions to compliance and legal staff. They were a small company and continued to make huge mistakes. Going out with investors, we were told, was part of the game, part of the obligation to getting the funds to do the real science. 

Working from 6am-10pm and coming in 7-days a week was part of getting a salary at $40k, part of being a scientist and checking experiments and building data and value. Being versatile and filling other roles like marketing and compliance, that you could be held legally accountable for as an individual in some states (J did great though, he was fine), is part of working for a start-up, is part of a new industry, is part of new science! They did everything they could to normalize practices that we didn’t have enough professional experience to identify as wrong, inefficient, or red-flag warnings. 

But we learned. And we did make a difference sometimes, changing important minds about the value of Cannabis, the need for federal legalization, decriminalization, and the importance of accountability regarding pharmaceutical corruption. But the investors, oh how I dreaded the word investor. 

And this was a big one. 

He took us to a restaurant so dark I couldn’t see my food and pushed together fancy dinner-date-for-two tables in a long line to accommodate everyone with the air of someone who was accustomed to fixing everything with money. His son worked in the company and was the reason the guy was investing. My end was the tag-along-SO end, and our discomfort was palpable. 

Usually at investor dinners, we ended up paying our own bills because important people would leave sporadically or, I dunno, they were cheap? They’d cover the C-Suite and we’d be left on our own, or, and I really hated this, they’d each order 5 drinks and the most expensive entree and then split the bill evenly, so the poor people like me, who budget their spending, ate an $11 meal with a $6 beer but paid a $60 cut of the whole bill (buy more drinks then, take your share, wealthy peers have yelled before – but then the overall bill is still bigger, so that literally doesn’t help me at all; don’t eat anything then – well, that doesn’t really feel like an option at a big business dinner). 

Or, the really shitty one, someone would order a round of drinks, then expect you to get the next round. If this is standard cultural practice where you are, awesome, you have a social agreement, this is not standard here though, and meant actual multi-millionaire investors expected their own hourly employees or $40k salary workers to buy a round of drinks for 5+ people on a regular basis. Do you know how fast that adds up? And, here’s the shitty part, they would start with “you wanna get this round and I’ll get the next?” and then never get the next. EVER! They’d be fall-down drunk or disappear. This happened weekly.

Over and over it happened in a world of overconsumption, privilege, wealth, and the desire to have no worries, party hard, do drugs, yeah! Which, fine, but not when there’s such a power dichotomy and economic disparity. I started to see the tricks, the cons, the advantages, the selfish narcissism, the cheating and taking from others without sharing, giving, or participating in the group. The investors were not part of the group. They didn’t care about the science, they cared about profit margins and knowing when to jump ship with the largest pay off. It got to the point where I (arrogantly, probably) felt like I could screen investors and tell after a single dinner if they were going to scam the program or use the science to get licenses then dump them, or never actually give them the equipment to do their work. There were a few who genuinely cared.

Anyway, this fancy restaurant: we didn’t know who was paying, but I opened the menu and the absolute cheapest thing was a caesar salad for FOURTY-NINE DOLLARS! 

But no, we don’t get to order our own food. Fancy investor says we all must try this specific steak because it’s his favorite, one for everyone! Which makes it sound like they’re paying, but I’ve learned you never know. One girl was vegan and I tried to jump on that train to go for the comparatively reasonably priced salad, but alas, decisions had already been made, wine was being poured without question, steaks were being served, and at the end, checks were served down the table in a neat line of leather books, a bill was put in front of the two of us for $250 and my jaw dropped. The server goes “Mr. [Name] has kindly taken care of the wines for the table.” WINES HE ORDERED AND STEAKS HE INSISTED WE EAT! Ugh, I was so confused and angry and sick of the talk and playing nice and making friends. I went to the bathroom and hyperventilated with J texting me that he’s done and we need to find a way out (but remember the IP and non-compete clauses, getting out is hard). 

The guy ended up paying for everyone. It was $7,000. I can only assume he wanted us to see the bill and his generosity, or that the CSO said something about people not being able to afford it. Either way, that same story repeats itself over and over: white millionaire man invests in cannabis as quick buck, no interest in science, makes fortune and leaves with no legal retribution. 

When J worked with UCI, they tried to press for legal retribution for fraud against a company that had partnered with them, but it didn’t stick because the independent companies have the money, the power, and the law. 

It was like living in a reality tv show, in a bubble where the real world happened outside. If you move between places often enough, you don’t fit in either. I tried to stay on the outside, but most of those guys tried to stay on the inside. And on one hand, I get it. They see fast cars, easy money, models and big parties, they grew up white and wealthy without realizing it because they have no context of diversity or poverty, they don’t actually see the harm they cause, they don’t actually care, because all they want is to fit in the bubble. It’s infectious, addictive for them.

And I despised it because being inside the bubble made me physically ill. It wasn’t anthropological fieldwork, it wasn’t removed from my life, I had no safe home base to return to, to think and consider and code notes, this was my life. 

Now, we are just about to pass the two-year mark living in RI. It will be the first time we’ve lived anywhere for more than a year since we moved from the midwest almost seven years ago. We’re recovering as a team, as a couple. I’ve gotten more done in the last two years than the 6 before that combined. We got to travel to so many places, and actually meet some amazing people. The companies moved us and paid for housing. There were benefits is what I’m saying, I don’t regret our choices, because I didn’t know what the consequences would be and we made each choice together. We’ve learned so much about each other from the experience. And we survived it together, and I’m proud of us for that.

J ’s all but given up on science now, we left the millionaires to their parties and drugs and alcohol and broken relationships, and I should mention, because I know my tone here may seem dismissive in its generalization, that I learned a lot about stoner cultures and rave cultures and drugs and more about history and criminal justice, and I think there can be a time and place for drugs and alcohol, and that Cannabis should be legalized and fully decriminalized. 

What I am fed up with is the wealthy and their context bubble, the investment in their friends, the quick scams that are perfectly legal and make them richer for doing nothing, and the irresponsibility; the avoidance of confrontation, integrity, and honesty, disregarded for a quick buck. Lives left a mess in their wake with no jobs as the company falls apart. For me right now, the Cannabis industry is being lead by people soaked in the slime of deception hoping to make money with the same corporate structures of taking advantage of their workers that their fathers used before them. It is currently a racist, classist industry, sure there are some amazing exceptions, but as a whole, there is a problem with where the money is coming from and going to. 

 Most of the investors I’ve seen support Trump’s policies (passionately and often because they personally benefit), while the workers adamantly oppose or avoid caring about politics at all. Just because you’re a fanatic about something doesn’t mean you get to stop caring about or considering the impact of what you do or the world outside of it. If you work in Cannabis, know who you are working for and what the impacts of your work are. I have found that, more than any other industry, Cannabis seeks to maintain a status quo in white power, authority, and culture (re: religion, morality, ownership, wealth, cultural institutions, legality, etc.), while retaining the image of being individually diverse, subversive, and rebellious, leading to intense appropriation, exoticization, tokenism, and continual reinforcement of white privilege and classist power.

That’s it. That’s all I’ve got to say on it right now. I’m exhausted. I need to go recharge and find some hope. But I think making people aware of these areas that don’t get seen, because they don’t want to be seen, is part of building hope. People starting to look around and realizing how many millionaires there are, and how easily they make more money this way without social contribution, is part of identifying the problem, and I am eternally grateful to comedians like Hasan Minhaj and Trevor Noah, who look in these dark corners and find a way to make us all look with them, stirring up conversation as we decide what to do about the mess. 

[pookamaluka]

Through Her Eyes

Describe your OC through the eyes of someone absolutely head-over-heels in love with them Prompted by @lauraemoriarty

Fandom: Dragon Age Pairing: Inquisitor Nylus Lavellan/Josephine Montilyet WC: 1350

Josephine was not blind. She was in fact quite observant. She had to be. After all, her job as ambassador required it. She had to read people. Their faces, the tone of their voice, the way they dressed and presented themselves, how they moved, who they associated with, and many other vital details. These were things she had learned to focus on in order to do her job properly. So it was what she naturally did when the Inquisitor, back then only the Herald of Andraste, first joined their cause.

At first it was for necessity. But watching him quickly became her favorite part of the day. He seemed so mysterious then. He still was in some aspects if she was being honest. Back then he was also distant. Impersonal. She opened up to him about her family troubles and her worries about the people who worked tiredly for the Inquisition. After those conversations, little by little he warmed up to her. Josephine supposed that it took some effort for a Dalish raised elf to overcome his mistrust of human nobility. Once they found common ground, he was less guarded and more forthcoming. They spent many an afternoon talking about politics, a topic she now knew he detested, their childhood, Dalish culture and Orlesian cuisine. It had given her a chance to see him in a different light. To watch him as he spoke passionately about a topic he was invested in. 

It was during these talks that Josephine finally realized the man was a gorgeous work of art.

She had been afraid to admit it before. She was a professional after all. But now that their flirting had blossomed into something much more serious, she did not feel like she had to keep some scandalous secret. It would be hard to keep anyway, considering where she was at the moment.

Josephine stood in the courtyard, among the crowd that had gathered to watch the Inquisitor spar with another rogue in the practice ring. They both had practice daggers that they were currently using to try and land what would’ve been a fatal blow if the edges hadn’t been dulled. They circled each other, already panting with exertion after unsuccessfully trying to defeat their opponent. Chests rising and falling, covered in sweat, with bruises and scratches already forming on their skin. 

It was hard not to notice a nasty bruise on Nylus’s chest when Josephine had been staring at his open shirt for the past fifteen minutes. Before that, she had been looking at how well the material of his pants stretched as he moved to attack the other rogue. She had to send a letter to the tailor to praise their work. The fit was incredible. Well made garments were meant to be praised. Especially if they accentuated features that were already worthy of praise.

The clinking of metal caught her attention for a second and she looked up to see Nylus parrying a set of daggers going for his throat. His long hair was held back by a very inefficient length of string that had let locks of his dark chestnut hair escape and fly about his face and shoulders as he spinned and turned. Josephine sighed as she remembered how that hair had looked and felt as his head rested on the pillow next to hers. Such a dark, reddish brown that contrasted with her pearl sheets. And so soft and silky. She had ran her fingers through it and let it slide over her hands. It had blanketed them both when he kissed her, falling like a curtain as he framed her face with his hands. Josephine’s nipples had hardened into peaks as his hair gently brushed against her breasts. She couldn’t forget the groan he made when her wild hands pulled on it as she lost herself in his embrace.

The crowd cheered and Josephine looked at the ring again to see the Inquisitor crouching over his sparring partner on the ground, daggers at the other man’s throat. There was a beat of silence before Nylus chuckled and said,

“So, archers don’t know how to hold a dagger, huh?”

The man and the surrounding soldiers laughed. 

“I’ll get you next time, Lavellan.”

Nylus shook his head and stood. He offered his hand to the rogue and pulled him up. 

“That’s what you said last time, friend.”

The crowd laughed again and Captain Rylen pushed his way forward.

“Show’s over! Back to making yourselves useful, you sorry lot! Go now!” He faced the rogue. “Evan, if you’re done wasting the Inquisitor’s time, maybe now you could give your report to the Commander?”

Evan the rogue, rolled his eyes and followed the rest of the soldiers as they left.

Josephine stood still as the courtyard emptied. She watched Nylus as he placed his practice daggers back on a rack and then went to wash his hands in a barrel. She huffed. He hadn’t glanced her way yet. Then again, that had allowed her to enjoy the view earlier. Guess she could wait a little longer. Even if looking at his hands as he wiped dust and dirt from his sinewy forearms did test her resolve. When he repeated the same motion on his neck, she suspected he was not as unaware of her presence as she thought. 

She approached him and cleared her throat. “Afternoon, my lord.”

Nylus turned around. He was smirking.

“Hm? Oh! Lady Montilyet.” His lips were pressed together tight. But his eyes crinkled. “Does some dire situation require my attention? Are our noble guests comfortable? Do they need me to fluff their pillows?”

Josephine giggled. She picked up a washcloth that hung over the side of the barrel and used it to wipe Nylus’s cheeks.

“Not this time. They seem enchanted by Varric’s tales.”

Nylus snorted. 

“I’m afraid that like the others, I was unable to resist the show,” she said.

He looked down at her, his green eyes glinting.

“Did you enjoy the sparring?”

“Oh yes.” Josephine said as she rinsed the washcloth. “It was impressive. Seeing you in motion.”

Nylus laughed. “It’s not as if you haven’t seen me move before, Josephine.” 

He held her hand and stroked it with his thumb. 

“Hm. To be frank, the other times have been more about feeling you move rather than watching you.”

His eyes narrowed and he smiled, “Is that a complaint or…?”

Josephine laughed. She discarded the washcloth and set her hand on his chest.

“Not at all. It’s just nice to enjoy a different perspective.”

He put his arm around her waist. She noticed his eyes were dark now, his pupils larger, trying to obscure the glint of green she loved. 

“Care to enjoy another view?” 

She tilted her head, “What did you have in mind?”

Nylus started to walk toward the stairs to the fortress and pulled her along with him.

“I was thinking I need more than a wipe down after all that exertion. Think you could convince some maids to draw me a bath?”

“Do you doubt my abilities or my motivation?” 

Nylus laughed again. This time there was a husky undertone to his voice.

“Vhenan.” He raised her hand and kissed it. “No one could doubt your….motivation.”

She huffed and pushed him toward his quarters. He let her shoo him away, only looking back with a grin that teased her even more. Josephine shook her head. It served her right. She got the attention of one of the head maids and made her request,

“Dinia, would you be so kind as to arrange a warm bath be drawn for Inquisitor Lavellan?”

The older woman stood at attention and nodded. “Of course, my lady. Right away.”

“Thank you.” Josephine said.

She then headed toward the Inquisitor’s private quarters. Part of her job as Ambassador was being well informed. And her knowledge came from experiencing as many situations as possible, and learning from them. Watching Nylus Lavellan as he bathed was no different. It could even be called research. And Josephine Montilyet had always excelled in her studies. 

[guccifloralsuits]

how is buttigieg's "medical for all who want it" policy different from how health insurance is being run today? sure, he wants to give people the option of public insurance, but allowing privatized insurance companies to still be running directly harms people, especially those who are uneducated on the topic. it seems like medicare lite tm, as do his environmental policies in comparison to the green new deal. don't get me wrong, bernie's policies aren't flawless, but imo +

Anon Asked: + 

buttigieg’s policies leave little to be desired, with concepts that aren’t refreshing or innovative, but rather seem like he’s trying to “deviate” from the norm, in this example the norm being bernie’s policies. i also read that he’s lost an immense number of black voters fairly recently. he just comes off as disingenuous. i wish i could like him, i mean i’m gay & having a gay prez would be great, but that doesn’t excuse his blandness. also, he’s blatantly lied about taking corporate donations

also i forgot to add but i totally understand supporting buttigieg, he seems like a decent guy overall, i just would like to seem something more refreshing or original from him regarding his policies. i think bernie has been really innovative and sometimes i get skeptical when democractic politicians come out with policy proposals that are so incredibly similar to bernie’s with *marginal* differences, you know? but bernie definitely isn’t immune to criticism, either

I disagree with your statement on policies specifically because another key problem I have with Bernie is that his policies read like a youtube thumbnail - which is to say they look good on the surface but don’t correctly incentivize priorities and effect the targeted populations in the ways they plan to. 

On medicare for all (and bear with me we’re about to get a lil into health econ): 

in current market conditions, the largest problem in USA Healthcare cost (HC) is the principal of adverse selection. Adverse selection pretty much goes like this: a healthy person feels no need to buy healthcare because they are; a sick person will buy healthcare when they are, well…sick. Sick people drive up the cost the and then the healthy people aren’t in the market to help bear the burden of the cost, which is why we end up with huggggeeeeee medical bills. 

Pete’s Public-option helps get around these costs because the government can eliminate intermediary costs (which are like 2Billion (i think I havent checked the #s in a while), and it allows those who like their plan to avoid the taxable income issue (if an employer includes insurance benefit as part of a work-hire-package, the cost of that insurance plan isn’t taxed by the government. if they mandate a new Bernie plan, some of the income might be saved in net, but the rest is now taxable, and this tax once added to the additional necessary tax increase to impliment is the problem. Plus it creates tax bracket movements which can substantially increase tax rates compared to before. I know this sounds I’m by no means a teacher, so it’s a lil hard to explain but might be making some videos on it for our econ department and if they get posted I’ll share the link if you’re interested. 

On black voters: 

An anon pointed out that some of the claims in this part were just...based in ignorance and actually I agree. I’m going to look into this more & update my knowledge on the subject.

On the Green New Deal: strong disagree, the green new deal is SO inefficient, too vague in definition, and lays out a set of goals but with no clearly written, step-by-step plan to get there. The entire ‘how to’ is missing. It’s not cost effective. It’s not issue-specific so much as a re-structrue of the government which is just…..not feasible? A theory is great, but I’m more interested in actions that can actually be passed into law so they can have a real effect, instead of just being some ‘what-if’ scenario which won’t likely ever play out. 

On donations: he’s the least wealthy candidate by like 400% OC he’d take donations I personally don’t give a shit about campaign donations, because if we try to expose the shady shit every candidate has done with regards to it we’d be here until the general election (Warren I’m looking at you)

My problem with Bernie is that he forgoes taking actions that can easily get accomplished in favor of his perfect ‘what-if’ scenario, and that ends up with nothing being actually passed. Like, I’d rather have a watered down version passed into law than his idealistic policy which remains nothing more than a fantasy. Think of it this way: i want guns banned, but that isn’t going to happen in the forseeable future. I have two options: I can change track and argue for universal background checks, or I can scream until my head hurts that we should ban guns. If I scream, nothing is going to change republican positioning. But if I go the magazine path, I might be able to get some on board with the idea and sure we still have a long way to go, but at least a some of the legislation enacts help and now we have a point to build off of. That’s better than sicking to the full “no guns” and thenh having nothing get done. 

also i have personal grudge because his staff holds some of the literal worst people I’ve ever had to work with, and I have met people from Ted Cruise’s office….on the hill it’s pretty much understood that staff is a mirror reflection of how congressmen run their office which…YIKES. saying they are horrible is an understatement oh my god

[mosylufanfic]

If you're still taking prompts: “Come on, give me one good reason not to jump in the lake.” Cisco to Caitlin?

I actually wrote a good portion of this back when you requested it, in March or so. Then I forgot about it until just recently, when I felt like writing a fun, fluffy summer story and went, “wait, didn’t I have one of those already?”

So finally, here it is!

Life’s a Beach

Cisco stared longingly at the blue, blue water. “Come on, give me one good reason not to jump in the lake.”

“Cryptosporidium,” Caitlin said, flicking her towel out with a snap of her wrists. “And giardia intestinalis. Both of them are extremely nasty parasites, transmitted through the fecal-oral route.” She looked up and down the beach. “With the number of families here today, at least one kid is going without their diaper. Guaranteed.”

He stared at her. “The fecal-oral route - is that what I think it is?”

“Almost certainly. Also, we have to keep an eye out for nefarious activity,” she added, struggling with a giant beach umbrella.

“You could have opened with that one,” he said, going over and taking it from her. The button was very stubborn. He swore, smacked it with his palm, and the umbrella almost took his nose off when it sprang open. He swore again. “In fact, you could have closed with that too. I only asked for one.”

She took the umbrella back from him and stuck it in the sand. “You still would have argued with me for the next ten minutes. This way, no argument. Sunscreen?”

“I’m good. I got the spray-on stuff.”

She flicked open the bottle with a little snick and started rubbing sunscreen into her legs. He tried not to stare.

He was pretty sure Iris had just been kind, sending them to do recon on the beach where a lot of people were reporting large amounts of missing money this summer. They didn’t even know if there was a meta behind it. But it was a gorgeous, sunny day, just on the edge of hot, and they got to hang out at the beach.

So he wasn’t complaining.

Although the fact that he was hanging out at said beach with Caitlin was causing some issues.

He was supposed to be looking for suspicious characters, but he kept getting distracted by Caitlin in her sunglasses and floppy sun hat and thigh-length black net cover-up. Cover-up was a wild misnomer, because it was basically covering nothing and distracting him with constant glimpses of pale skin.

Or maybe he was just incredibly distracted by her lately.

He didn’t know where this all had come from. Sure, he’d always thought she was beautiful - come on, he had eyes - but lately, it was awfully hard to remember that they were good buddies and no more, when he wanted to touch her and look at her all sorts of places that a good buddy had no business touching or looking.

He busied himself with shaking out his own beach towel and settling himself in the warm sand. He told himself not to stare at the movement of her hands, and the places her hands moved over.

A rustle of cloth made him look up involuntarily. The cover-up was sliding down Caitlin’s arms as she shrugged it off. She let it slip to the beach towel and glanced up at him.

He scrambled to find something to say that wasn’t I think my brain is running out my ears. “Hey. That’s a new suit, isn’t it?”

“Mhmmm,” she said, rubbing sunscreen down her arms. “My old one is about done for. What do you think?”

“It’s nice,” he said airily, sliding his sunglasses back up his nose.

Nice was the understatement of his life.

The last time he’d hung out with Caitlin at the beach, she’d had a sensible red one-piece. This was a green bikini, and clearly the reason her not-cover-up had kept showing skin was that skin was mostly all there was to see. Smooth, creamy skin, a few little moles that looked like dots of chocolate he wanted to lick, the curve of shoulders and legs and hips and stomach.

Stop, he ordered himself,

When she started dabbing sunscreen on her chest and throat and the shadow of her cleavage, he felt pretty proud that he only had to remind himself not to stare at her three times.

He realized that she was saying his name. Had been saying his name for a minute or two now. “Huh?”

“I said, can you get my back?”

Could he rub cream into her nearly-naked back, running his hands over her sun-warmed skin, down the line of her spine? Well, sure, he could. Whether he should was another question.

“Please?” she said.

“Okay,” he said because he was weak, and she was tilting her head and making puppy eyes the way she did. God, he was so weak. “Turn around.”

“Hmm?” She was looking over his shoulder.

“Turn around.”

“No,” she said suddenly. “Come around behind me.”

“What? I’m right here, I - ”

She tipped her sunglasses down and glared at him. “Come around behind me, I said.”

If puppy eyes made him weak, her glare turned him into the puppy.

He came around to sit cross-legged behind her, focusing on the nape of her neck, with the soft little baby hairs curling against it. Yep. This was going to be exactly as bad as he thought.

She handed the sunscreen bottle over her shoulder to him. “Is my phone in my bag?”

“Uh,” he said, rooting around. “Yeah. Here.”

“Thanks.”

He squirted sunscreen onto his fingertips and dabbed it against her shoulder blades. Oh man. That was actually worse. Not only was it supremely inefficient, she wiggled as it tickled her, which made him think of tickling her in other situations, and no, no, stop.

“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea. Why don’t I just spray your back? With my sunscreen!” he added hastily. “It’s the spray-on kind.”

“What SPF is it?” she asked, fiddling with something on her phone.

"Twenty-five? Maybe thirty.” He thought it was overkill putting sunscreen on himself at all, but Caitlin and Iris had teamed up to terrorize him with statistics on skin cancer in people of color, and he wasn’t about to sit through that twice.

“In this sun, I’m going to broil like a lobster with anything less than fifty, trust me,” she said. “Just get a big glob on your hands and stroke it all over my back, okay?” She sounded distracted, looking off at something behind where he’d been sitting earlier.

He breathed through his nose and squeezed the bottle hard. A giant splat of sunscreen landed in his palm. He rubbed his hands together and settled both of them flat on her back

She leaned back into his touch and in spite of the hot sun, he broke out into a cold sweat.

“Cisco,” she murmured. “Do you see that?”

“Uh-huh,” he mumbled. "What?”

How was he supposed to look anywhere with her skin under his hands?

“That,” she said. “Straight ahead.”

Straight ahead was a scatter of freckles to the left of her spine. He wanted to trace them with his fingertip, make them into a constellation.

“The ice cream seller.”

“I’d love some ice cream,” he mumbled. Anything cold. Cryptosporidium or not, the lake was starting to look more and more appealing.

“His customer just handed him a fifty-dollar bill.”

“Must be nice.”

“No, and he got a handful of change back.”

Cisco blinked. Everyone knew shit was overpriced at the lake. That’s why you brought your own treats. But close to fifty dollars for three ice cream cones? He squinted at the stand. “Don’t suppose that’s gourmet ice cream?”

“It would have to be infused with gold flakes to cost that much.”

“How are you seeing this?” he asked. The ice cream seller was a good hundred yards away.

She held up her phone, set to video mode. “That super-zoom app you developed. Very handy.”

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. What do you think, some kind of mind control?”

Cisco watched the ice-cream buyer come back their way, trying to hold all three cones. “Maybe, but he doesn’t seem that out of it.” He noticed the guy glance up at Caitlin, look away, and then look back.

He couldn’t blame him one bit.

He leaned over Caitlin’s shoulder, maybe a little closer than he needed to, and said,  "Hey, wave him over.“

"Sir,” she called out. “Excuse me!”

As most female-attracted types would when a gorgeous brunette in a bikini waved at them, he detoured. “Yes?”

She took off her sunglasses and smiled up at him. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he said, smiling back.

Caitlin put the earpiece of her sunglasses in her mouth. “Can I just ask how much that ice cream cost?”

She was practically fluttering her lashes. What the hell? Was she flirting with this jerk and his drippy ice cream?

Clearly the jerk thought so, because he answered, “Oh, like, four-something. You want me to go grab you one? I’d be happy to.”

“And what did you pay with?” Cisco asked.

The guy looked over at him, frowning. “What does that matter?”

“Just doing a poll,” he said, scrabbling for a believable story. “On how many small vendors accept credit card.”

Ice Cream Guy looked skeptical. The chocolate cone began dribbling down over his knuckles.

“It’s for CCPN,” Cisco added, because hanging out with Iris had taught him there was some magic in the vague promise that you’d see yourself in the news.

“I paid cash.”

“What denomination of bill?” Caitlin asked.

He frowned. She leaned back, stretching out her bare legs, crossing them at the ankle and wiggling her toes with their gold toenail polish.

Cisco resisted the temptation to grab her cover-up and throw it over her, because they were her long, sleek legs and her cutely polished toes and she could show them off if she wanted to. Also, the frown was easing off Ice Cream Guy’s face.

“A five,” he said. “I remember because I didn’t think I had any fives in my wallet.”

She looked over her shoulder at Cisco. “Thanks so much,” she said. “You’ve been so helpful.”

“Bye,” Cisco added, because Ice Cream Guy showed signs of lingering, maybe asking for Caitlin’s number or something. And that was happening over his dead body.

He reconsidered. Not dead. He’d done that, 0/10, would not recommend. Maybe his extremely unconscious body. It wasn’t happening, was his point.

Because they had a meta to catch. Yeah. They didn’t have time to waste on some horny fool lusting after Caitlin.

Good reminder.

“What do you think?” Caitlin asked him in an undertone as Ice Cream Guy departed, shoulders sagging, ice cream melting faster than ever. “Could that be where people’s money is disappearing to?”

They’d thought it was a pickpocket, but after seeing that - “Leprechaun gold,” he said.

She gave him one of her patented Caitlin Looks. “Leprechauns?”

“No,” he said. “Leprechaun gold. Oh come on! I know you read Goblet of Fire.”

“The money’s not dissolving,” she pointed out.

“Right, but he is deceiving them. Making them think they’re giving him a way smaller bill than they really are.”

She scrunched up her face in thought. “Do you have any big bills in your wallet?”

“Got a twenty.”

“That’ll do. I think I want some ice cream.” She got up, dusting sand off her butt. Her cute round butt, barely covered by that damn bikini, and the sand stuck to her skin like a dusting of sugar …

“Cisco?”

“Huh?”

She gazed down at him, straightening her sun hat and shrugging into her cover-up. “Are you coming?”

“Yep,” he said, scrambling to his feet. “Yep, right there with you.” Right, they had a job to do, which didn’t include drooling over one of his best friends.

Iris looked up as they breached into Star Labs. “Hey, guys, good work.” Cisco had texted her from the beach while Caitlin was turning the Illusionist - “no, Cisco, we’re not calling him the Leprechaun, pick something else!” - over to the police.

“Thanks,” Cisco said. “Guy had made an easy thousand dollars or so this weekend already, screwing with people’s perception of the bills they were giving him. It was hard to catch him because he switched up what he was selling.”

Iris nodded. “People generally don’t remember the person selling them something, just what they bought. Sorry your beach day was interrupted, though.”

“Eh,” Cisco said. “Too hot anyway. I’m going to go get something cold. Real cold.” He headed off, his flip-flops thwacking against the tile floor, leaving Caitlin and Iris in the cortex.

Iris asked Caitlin, “You said you got video?”

“All on here.” Caitlin passed her phone over, and Iris hooked it up.

She glanced over her shoulder as the video started uploading, and asked in a lower voice, “And how did the bikini work out?”

Caitlin scowled. “Less well. I don’t think he even noticed I was wearing it. And not in the I’m thinking about you naked way. More like the you’re a piece of furniture way. He gave the damn umbrella more attention.“

"What, really? Did you try the sunscreen trick?”

“Yes! And I flirted with someone else, right in front of him. See, right there!”

Iris watched Caitlin-on-the-screen cock her head and smile at the man with the three ice cream cones. “That didn’t work?”

“He just kept asking questions about the case. I think I screwed up when I mentioned intestinal parasites.”

Iris hummed. “On the one hand, that’s generally not regarded as sexy. On the other hand, if he was going to be put off by disgusting medical facts, he wouldn’t be your friend.”

“I want him to be more than my friend, though.”

Iris patted her shoulder, one eye on the video. “I know.”

“Maybe it’s time I faced it,” Caitlin said sadly, plopping down at the desk and resting her chin in one hand. “We’ve just been friends for too long. He’s never going to see me in any light other than platonic.”

On the screen, Caitlin got up and went striding toward the ice cream vendor. Cisco was so busy staring at her that he tripped over the umbrella on his way to follow.

Iris raised a brow. “Are you sure about that?”

FINIS

[whimsicaldragonette]

Romancing the Sorcerer’s Stone (Part 9 of 24)

Part 1~ Part 2~  Part 3~ Part 4~ Part 5~ Part 6~ Part 7~ Part 8~ Part 9~ Part 10~ Part 11~ Part 12~ Part 13~ Part 14~ Part 15~ Part 16~ Part 17~ Part 18~ Part 19~ Part 20~ Part 21~ Part 22~ Part 23~ Part 24~

-Part 9: Golden Snitches-

April 2000 — Cachora, Peru

It takes them a few days to make it back to Cachora, where Bill books them a room at the Hospedaje Sayhuite and insists Harry stay there and recuperate. He pops back to his office to grab a few things and square things with his boss, and, true to his word, is back within the hour. Harry breathes a sigh of relief when he glimpses the familiar red hair out his window.

“That was fast,” he remarks as Bill walks in. “What did you tell her?”

“Hmm? Oh. Ariana. Well,” he grins, “essentially I just called in sick. What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”

Harry smirks at him. “Smooth. So, did you get them?”

Bill holds up two large duffle bags in answer. He rummages through one for a moment and then hands Harry a much larger and stronger version of the bag the medallion rests in and tells him to put both medallion and bag into the new one. That accomplished, he casts a few more diagnostic spells and then quickly wards and locks the room.

“Now,” he says, turning back to Harry with a grin, “the fun begins.”

—

Five hours later, they both slump exhausted against opposite walls, coated in sweat and no small amount of blood. The medallion lies on the floor between them, at the center of a series of concentric rings. Nearly all the rings have been broken; only the central ring, representing the deepest curse, is left. Harry smiles faintly at Bill. “Ready?”

Bill salutes him with his wand. “Ready.”

They cast together, twin beams of white light arcing toward the circle. It flares briefly white-hot and then fades.

Harry raises an eyebrow at Bill. “Done?”

Bill nods, letting his head fall back against the wall with a quiet thunk. “Done. You can break the circle now.”

Harry does, holding his breath as he does so. The medallion winks up at him innocently. They work their way systematically through their entire combined repertoire of diagnostic spells; all come back clean. Harry wipes a tired hand across his brow, running his fingers through his dust-grimed hair.

“Fabulous,” he says, yawning widely. “I need a nap.”

“Best put away Malfoy’s bauble first,” Bill says, laughing. “Would hate to see it walk away after we put all that effort into it.”

Harry slips it back into his pocket, offering the bags back to Bill.

He shakes his head. “I think you need them more than I do. I’ve a spare set back at the office, anyway, and this’ll give me an excuse to requisition a new one.” He pulls an exaggeratedly mournful face. “Alas, this one met a tragic end on my travels.”

“Thanks.” Harry yawns again, wincing as his jaw cracks. “Ow. I’m for bed, then.”

Bill nods. “We’ll need to arrange muggle transport back to London, you realize? I think we’ve weakened the magical dampening field, but I don’t trust this thing in the international floo.”

Harry sighs. “Yeah. Hope you’ve a few more days to be ‘sick.’”

Bill chuckles. “I’m sure I can manage.” He rummages in his bag for his pajamas and heads toward the shower, then turns back. “Hey, Harry?”

“Hmm?”

“You won’t get in trouble, will you? With Malfoy, I mean. For removing the curses?”

Harry shrugs. “I’ll handle him. I know you couldn’t in good conscience let something that Dark loose in the world, and I couldn’t either. I don’t think it will be a problem.”

—

May 2000 — London, England

“Of course, it took more than a week to get back,” Harry finishes, lips twisting in disgust. “Muggles and their bloody inefficient travel systems.”

He leans back in his chair and takes a sip of wine, keeping his face carefully composed as he eyes Malfoy with sharp eyes. He’s still not sure what Malfoy will think of the whole endeavor.

Malfoy opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again, closes it, and finally takes an overlarge gulp of his wine and nearly chokes. Once he stops gasping, he pulls a wry face. “You made the best choice possible under the circumstances,” he says, mouth twisting like he’s sucked on a lemon. Then his face hardens. “But I’ll be accompanying you on your treasure-hunting jaunts from now on, and that’s not negotiable. Honestly, Potter. What were you thinking? Going alone into the bloody Amazon in search of an incredibly Dark artefact with Blaise and his goons after you? Salazar. You’re lucky you weren’t killed.”

“But—“

Malfoy forges on, ignoring him. “Where were Weasley and Granger, Hmm? Don’t you usually take them on your adventures?”

“Not anymore,” Harry says, amused. “Not since school, Malfoy. You know that.”

“Well, yes. Fine. But, surely there’s someone…” His voice trails off as he frowns. “Ha!” he exclaims triumphantly a moment later, “What about that Fiancée of yours, hmm?”

“Ginny isn’t—“

“If you’re about to tell me that she’s too delicate for such things, I’ve a few Bat-Bogey hexes in my past that say otherwise.

Harry grins fondly, remembering. “Still,” he says firmly, “she’s not a part of this. Anyway,” he adds, waving a hand as if to wave the matter aside, “it’s not like she’d be interested.”

“Hmm. Yes, well. Looks like you’re stuck with me then, Potter.”

Harry grins, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Looking forward to it, Malfoy.”

Malfoy nods. “Good. You clearly need someone to watch your back and provide a modicum of common sense. The guide, Potter? Really? That’s a classic double-cross. Blaise could do that when he was still in diapers. Why didn’t you see through it?”

Harry shrugs. “That’s your department, Malfoy. By the way, I’ve been wondering: Why the hell did Millicent run away? By all rights, I should be dead right now.”

“Ah, well,” Malfoy says sheepishly, “she’s afraid of snakes, you see. Terrified of them, actually. She was nearly impossible to be around after word of the basilisk got out second year.”

Harry stares at him. “And you didn’t think that would maybe be useful? Since I’m a parselmouth?”

He shrugs. “Honestly, I didn’t think of it. Millie didn’t talk about it much — a Slytherin afraid of snakes? — And, anyway, it’s not like you go around talking to the things all the time. I’d forgotten you still could, actually.”

Part 1~ Part 2~  Part 3~ Part 4~ Part 5~ Part 6~ Part 7~ Part 8~ Part 9~ Part 10~ Part 11~ Part 12~ Part 13~ Part 14~ Part 15~ Part 16~ Part 17~ Part 18~ Part 19~ Part 20~ Part 21~ Part 22~ Part 23~ Part 24~

You can also read, comment, etc on AO3, FF, or Wattpad

[pokemaniacal]

Pokémon Moon, Epilogue: Responsibility

Beneath the crystal dome at the summit of Mount Lanakila, all is serene; all is peaceful.  The dome sparkles in the midday sun, the air is still, pure white clouds drift softly past the mountain below, and the inlaid Pokéball design on my throne pulses gently with a warm azure light. “…sweet Arceus, I’m SO BORED!”

Around one o’clock in the afternoon, my scheduled challenger shows up. “Finally,” I complain.  “What took you so long?”  Hau rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Eheh… Gramps pulled some new move we hadn’t seen before.  Almost didn’t get past him this time.  Raichu came through for me, though.”  The electric mouse Pokémon hovering at his side crackles at him affectionately, and he pats it on the head. “And what did you learn?” I ask expectantly.  Hau sighs. “Even Kahunas are always learning and perfecting new techniques,” he replies in the sing-song voice of a bored child reciting the moral of a story. “Good.  Now… shall we?”  He grins. “I’ve made it this far and I’m not done yet!  After all, there’s still a trainer standing right in front of me that I’ve got to overcome!”  I grin back. “That’s the spirit!  Now hurry up and get me out of this mess!”

I suppose I didn’t really expect him to win this time.  Hau’s progress has been impressive, I have to admit, but I still don’t think he understands the gravity of what he’s asking for.  As if to symbolise the new level he achieved in defeating his grandfather, he’s added a Crabominable – Hala’s signature Pokémon – to his existing team of Raichu, Flareon, Komala and Primarina.  There is a nagging inelegance in his style, his Pokémon have not perfected all of their techniques, and there is still the barest hint of hesitation between his thoughts and their actions.  I could lecture him about all this, but the fact is, he’s already on the path; he and his Pokémon are going to keep advancing regardless of what I do.  Every time we battle, Hau comes a little closer.  For now, though, he’s still a long way off, and his Primarina’s valiant last stand against my Decidueye ends in defeat.

“Seriously!?” Hau blurts after we have recalled our Pokémon.  “This is really frustrating, you know?  I seriously tried my hardest!”  I smile at him. “I should hope so; I don’t want to be Champion of this backwater one day longer than I have to!  You are getting better; I promise I’m not just saying that.” “Yeah, yeah, I know.”  He returns my smile.  “And at least I had a blast going all out against you.” “Likewise!  Now…”  I wander to the edge of the arena platform and sit down, legs dangling over the edge, then pat the ground next to me.  “Come on; time for this week’s lesson.”  Hau obediently sits down alongside me.  A thought strikes him. “Say, d’you do this after all the challenges you get?” “No.  Just with you.”  He looks at me in surprise.  “Sooner or later, Hau… maybe sooner than either of us realises… that’s going to be your chair.  I want you to be ready.  I owe you that.”  Hau shakes his head. “This is so heavy, man…” “Being the Champion is.” “Sooo… what are this week’s words of wisdom?”  I stare out at the crystal dome in silence for a while. “We’ve tangled with some more Ultra Beasts since the last time I saw you.” “With that… international police guy, right?  Look-?” “Don’t say it!” I cut him off.  “Don’t you dare say that smug prick’s ridiculous code name; I refuse to dignify it by using it.  Also, I think he can hear whenever anyone in the world says it.”  I glance shiftily from side to side to stress my point. “Uh…” Hau hesitates, confused.  “What am I s’posed to call him?” “…I have a few suggestions, but I think I’d get in trouble with Hala if you ever repeated any of them.  Mr. L will do, I suppose.”  I frown thoughtfully.  “Watch out for that one.  He likes to treat Champions as his own unpaid interns.” “I’ll… remember that.” “See that you do.  Anyway, yes.  We went on several more missions for him and his superior, hunting more of the Beasts that appeared when Lusamine opened that wormhole at the Aether Paradise.”  Hau shudders. “Man, those things give me the creeps.” “That makes two of us.” “It wasn’t more of those scary floating mind-controlling ones, was it?  Just seeing one of them was enough for a lifetime!” “No… no, different species.  A humanoid insect faster than the eye… a bundle of raw nerve cords full of electricity… some kind of biomechanical rocket… and a huge, devouring mouth, consuming everything around it.”  Hau cocks his head, trying to picture them and clearly failing.  “I… could bring one for you to meet, but I’m not entirely certain that would be safe.” “Oh, no no no, that’s fine!” he replies hurriedly, then realises the significance of what I just said.  “Wait… you could bring one?” “That’s right.  My “assignment” was to capture all of the rogue Ultra Beasts in order to prevent them from causing any harm to Alola’s fragile environment.  So that’s what I did.” “Capture!?  Well- well, you’re gonna put them back, right?  Back… y’know.  Where they came from?” “That… may not be so straightforward.  The technology Lusamine used to open her Ultra Wormhole is useless without Nebby, and he seems… reluctant to open another one into Ultra Space.  I’m not sure I can return them to their own dimension.” “Wh- what are you gonna do with them, then?” “Funnily enough, Interpol had no specific plan for that stage of the operation.  What’s more, all the accounts of their previous responses to situations like this are supposedly classified… although, frankly, I doubt they would be much help.”  A thought occurs to me.  “What would you do, Hau?” I ask pointedly. “Me?  Why’s that matter?” “Because the next time this happens, it might be on your watch.”  His eyes widen in panic.  “Take your time.  Try to cover all the angles.  What choices can you think of?” “Um…” Hau hesitates.  “Well, we can’t let them go, can we?  That just puts us back where we started, with a bunch of Ultra Beasts running wild in Alola.” “Mmm.  Quite.” “But…” he continues, thinking out loud.  “Maybe… somewhere else?  Couldn’t there be some other region really far away… somewhere they could live in peace?” “Interesting idea.  I did ask Wicke about that – with Lusamine more or less out of commission, she’s the closest thing any of us have to an expert on the Ultra Beasts’ behaviour and physiology.  She’s looking into it, but she’s not optimistic.  Their metabolisms are wildly inefficient under typical Earth conditions, so they have to eat ravenously just to keep their powers from fading, which wreaks havoc on the local food chains, and the unfamiliar environment provokes a near-constant fight-or-flight response that places them under incredible metabolic strain…” “…huh?” Hau asks in befuddlement.  I remember I’m not supposed to be teaching him Pokémon ecology. “Uh… the point is… we haven’t found any good options.  Not on Earth, anyway – and at the moment, Earth is the only available planet.”  I shrug. “Could you build a habitat?  The Aether Foundation had that awesome indoor Pokémon preserve, yeah?  They could build another one for the Ultra Beasts, to be like their home!” “Mayyyyybe…” I say hesitantly.  “At the moment, Gladion is the acting President of the Aether Foundation, and his partner Pokémon was born to be a “Beast-Killer”… so… I’m not so sure how enthusiastic he’ll be about devoting most of the Foundation’s remaining manpower and resources to building a reservation for the Ultra Beasts.” “Aue, you’re right!  I wouldn’t wanna have that talk!” “I mean, I’m definitely going to talk to him about it!” I add quickly.  “It’s just… going to take some persuasive nuance.  That, and there’s still so much we don’t know about Ultra Space.  It’ll take time to gather data – but we have Professor Burnet, and we have Wicke and the Aether Foundation.  In the meantime, though…” I trail off and shrug again. “I… I guess you could put them in stasis, right?  Like all those Pokémon Ms. Lusamine had in her lab…?”  He shivers at the thought.  “You couldn’t leave them in there permanently… I don’t even like the thought of doing it at all.  But at least it would give you more time to find a new place for them to live, or a way to send them home.”  I nod. “Always be suspicious of “temporary” solutions to hard problems.  They have a tendency to become permanent when no-one’s looking.  But yes, that’s a decent idea.”  Hau nods, and thinks in silence for another minute. “You said you… captured them, yeah?  Like Pokémon, in Pokéballs?” he asks. “That’s right.  Using the Beast Balls that Lusamine developed to catch Nihilego.” “So the Ultra Beasts are Pokémon then?”  I pause. “Hmm.  What do you think?” “Uh… well… they sure aren’t human, right?  So… they must be?”  He thinks it’s a trick question.  Can’t blame him; I ask Hau a lot of trick questions. “Not every living thing that isn’t human is a Pokémon,” I remind him.  “Think of the plants, think of bacteria… the Pokérus, whatever that is…”  I reach into my backpack, pull out an empty Pokéball, and turn it over in my hands pensively.  “According to Wicke, ordinary Pokéballs have trouble recognising the Ultra Beasts as Pokémon.  Their physiology is too different.  That’s why Lusamine ordered the Foundation to create the Beast Balls.” “But you can catch them, right?  And they use Pokémon moves, and they have Pokémon types.” “Yeah, but should we define what is or isn’t a Pokémon based on the relationship it has with humans, and how it fights our battles?  That’s kinda self-centred of us, isn’t it?”  Hau hesitates, but then shakes his head decisively. “Pokémon training isn’t just about what Pokémon do for humans!  It’s about having fun, and being friends, and eating malasadas together on the beach!  You’ve gotta reach out to them, give ‘em a chance to make friends!  Maybe then this world won’t be so scary, and they can live here and be happy!”  I chuckle. “Ever the ray of sunshine, aren’t you?” I say drily.  “Friendship alone can’t overcome the hardships of living in an alien dimension, Hau.  But I suppose it could make it easier.  And much as I hate to admit it, if anyone’s going to try it, I probably have the best chance.” “What, because you’re such an epic trainer?” Hau asks, a hint of scepticism in his voice. “Heh.  I wish.  No, it’s… something else.  Because of our… unique experiences… Lillie, B, Guzma, Lusamine and I are something that Interpol calls “Fallers” – people who’ve spent time in Ultra Space and lived to tell the tale.  We have what you might call the “scent” of the Ultra Wormholes on us, something that the Beasts can sense.  They think we’re a way home.”  Hau looks baffled at first, but then I see a lightbulb go on in his head. “If you remind them of home, you can keep them calm!  You can help them adjust to living on Earth!” “Hypothetically, yes.  It’s worth a try, anyway.  I haven’t actually attempted to communicate with any of the Ultra Beasts in my… care… just yet.” “What’s the worst that could happen?” Hau asks, with the cavalier attitude of someone who has absolutely no idea what the worst that could happen is. “I’m not sure,” I admit.  “But… there was the matter of the Interpol task force’s leader.  The Hoennese woman.”  The change in subject makes his eyebrows go up in confusion. “Oh, right – you said you thought you knew her from somewhere?  Did you find out anything else?”  I shrug. “Well, it was her, all right.  Anabel, Salon Maiden of the Battle Tower, at one point the third most powerful trainer in Hoenn, and rumoured to be a gifted psychic.  Only she disappeared years ago, and as far as I know she’s still listed in her home region as a missing person.”  Hau wrinkles his nose. “Did she run away to join the International Police?  Fake her death or something?” “Not a bad guess, but no.  The truth is… stranger.  Apparently, she is also a Faller.  She disappeared when she ran afoul of an Ultra Wormhole, and was found by Interpol agents on Poni Island, suffering from amnesia.  They figured out what had happened to her when they detected the radiation signature of the Wormholes on her body… but they never told her that.  She has no idea what happened to her.” “That doesn’t sound right at all!  How can they keep that from her!?” “Well…” I begin hesitantly.  “I’d like to say it’s because her own Interpol superiors are concerned about bringing back her traumatic memories, or something… but to be honest, I think they just consider her more useful as an operative specialising in Ultra Beasts if she doesn’t know about her status as a Faller.  Easier to use her as bait.”  Noticing a look of horror on Hau’s face, I explain further.  “These are not nice people, Hau.  They’re on our side, and they’re miraculously competent, with… a certain notable exception.  But they are every bit as ruthless as Lusamine’s Aether Foundation, and they will use you if you let them.” “Aue… this is making my head spin,” he complains.  “And you still haven’t explained what Anabel has to do with you trying to train the Ultra Beasts.” “Oh!  Right.  Yes.  Well… The way the Ultra Beasts react to Anabel, as a Faller, makes me… more than a little nervous,” I admit.  “They were extremely aggressive towards her – as if they thought she was guarding or blocking their way home.”  Hau’s face falls. “So maybe they’ll blame you for them being stuck in Alola, eh?” “And react accordingly, yes.  And there’s something else, a sort of… mental fatigue that Anabel seems to suffer from being around them.  It could just be to do with the length of time she spent in Ultra Space, or even a result of her natural psychic potential, but considering the way Nihilego was able to influence Lusamine…” I realise that I’m speculating more wildly than usual, and shake my head clear.  “I don’t know, but like I said, the idea makes me… nervous about talking to them.” “So trying to train them like Pokémon isn’t a sure thing either…” he decides, summing up the last minute or so of conversation.  I let the silence linger for a while, hesitating to bring up my last point. “There’s another possibility you’re not suggesting.”  Hau just stares in confusion. “I give up, cousin; what’s the other option?”  I look away, close my eyes, and sigh. “Destroy them.”  He stifles a gasp. “What!?  No!  We can’t!” “And why is that?” “They’re still living things, right?  And they’re far away from home and prolly scared of us as we are of them!  It’s not fair!” “All true.  But they’re also dangerous, powerful entities that don’t belong in this world, have already done noticeable damage to every Alolan ecosystem they’ve touched, and could kill Arceus knows how many Pokémon and humans if they’re left to roam.  What if we can’t contain them?  What if we can’t teach them to live here in peace?” “Maybe we can’t, but we have to try!” he protests. “And if we’re wrong, or if we fail?  Who bears responsibility for what the Ultra Beasts do next? “I- I don’t know, but-!  But it’s not their fault either!  Lusamine brought them here; they didn’t ask for that!” “And the people and Pokémon of Alola didn’t ask to be put in the path of a confused and angry extradimensional monster with the powers of a god!  Are you ready to take responsibility for that happening?” “I- no, but- but we can’t kill them just for being lost in our world!” “And would you really stand by that, if your home were in their path!?” “I- I- I…”  He’s visibly upset; his eyes are starting to water a little, and he turns away and wipes his sleeve over his face.  I try to soften my expression, and gently rest a hand on his shoulder.  Hau blinks and looks back at me. “It’s that sort of thing, Hau,” I tell him softly, “that will make you a better Champion than me.”  He blinks, puzzled.  “I considered it.  Interpol considered it.  You wouldn’t.” “You wouldn’t… like… really do it though, would you?” Hau asks.  I pause. “…I might have.  If the other choices had all proven… infeasible.”  I shake my head.  “Do you understand now why I didn’t want this job?”  Hau looks out at the sky past the crystal dome. “…I think so.” “Do you still want this job?”  He says nothing for a long time. “Yeah.  Yeah, I do.  I wanna make a difference in people’s lives.  I wanna protect people and keep Alola safe and happy.  And… I wanna be strong.  Strong enough to do what’s right when it matters… and strong enough to admit when I’m weak.”  I close my eyes and smile.  I think he’s starting to get it.  It won’t be long now. “Responsibility,” I say, leaving the word hanging in the air for a few moments.  “When you have power, no choice is easy.  You can cross terrible lines to protect the people and places you love, or you can risk everything and everyone in the name of doing what’s right.  It’s not up to me to tell you what’s right, but either way, you have to own your choices, because it’s those choices that make you who you are.  When you hide from your responsibility, you hide from yourself.”  Hau frowns. “What does that make you?” he asks.  I laugh. “A coward.  Always have been.”  We sit together for a while, watching the clouds drift by.

“Anyway,” I say, breaking the silence.  “That’s enough about me.  How about what you’ve been doing?  You’re still helping Hala retrain the Team Skull grunts, aren’t you?  How are they?” “They’re all doing really well!  They’re taking to this whole rescue team deal way better than I ever woulda thought for such a bunch of troublemakers.  We ran a practice mission out on Ten Carat Hill the other day and they totally aced it!  Cool under pressure, and awesome team spirit!  I guess they just needed someone to give them a second chance!  One of them in particular.” “Oh?  Who’s that?” “Oh, you know, no one special.  Just your boyfriend,” Hau says teasingly. “He’s not my boyfriend,” I tell him crossly.  “I owe him a drink, that’s all.” “Really?  ‘A’ drink?” Hau asks sceptically. “Well… okay, maybe I owe him two or three drinks, after my coronation party…” “Try six or seven!” “I guess things got a little out of hand…” I concede. “A little?  You challenged Tapu Koko to a fistfight and broke every bone in your hand trying to punch out one of the old basalt idols!”  Hau laughs.  “That was the best part of our whole journey, hands down!” “Yeah, yeah…” I grumble. “And the way B fussed over you for days afterwards…” “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” “Did you know he even asked my gramps to teach him first aid?” “You are making that up.” “Trainer’s honour!” he declares, putting his hand on his heart.  “It was actually really cute.”  I roll my eyes, sigh in exasperation, and try to give him another surly grumble, but end up smiling in spite of myself. “Well, should I pencil you in for next week?  The usual time?” “You bet!” Hau replies.  “So watch out – me and me awesome team are definitely winning the next one!”  I smile at him, and offer my hand to shake. “You’re this region’s future, Hau – may the Tapu help us.”  He takes my hand. “I won’t let you down!” And the funny thing is… I believe him.

[uselessnoise]

Calling Donald Trump “Crazy” is Dangerous

... Instead, Consider His Actions as a Strategy and Act Accordingly Calling Donald Trump “crazy” is dangerous in that doing so is willfully ignoring his strategy. “Strategy?” you ask, “what strategy? He’s erratic, irate, and stupid!” Well, perhaps, but I urge the reader to think along the lines of a game.

In a game, be it a board or video game, should your opponent begin to play in a way you don’t understand, it is to your detriment to believe that they aren’t doing what they do on purpose. Often when people hear about AI beating humans at chess, they bring up the human element, the ability to do something unexpected. Then they’ll play against a computer and lose. Why? Because the computer isn’t capable of “surprise” - instead, the computer sees what its human opponent is doing as a legitimate strategy and undermines it and attacks it.

Regardless of whether or not Donald Trump is acting strategically or erratically, it is in the best interest of his opponents to consider it as strategy, to undermine it, and attack it.

As an exercise, let’s look at some of Trump’s behavior and ask ourselves what advantages they might offer Trump. Below I consider a few of these “strategies” and consider their purpose and how they attempt to achieve Trumps goals.

1. Random Action

Donald Trump acts seemingly at random to confuse and bewilder. Consider a game where you are presented with a handful of equally advantageous actions, but your opponent being able to guess your action makes that action much worse (see a game like Citadels). Openly and loudly declaring that you are selecting an option at random, and then doing so, makes it impossible for your opposition to guess which action you chose.

Donald Trump frequently acts like a wildcard, taking to twitter or outburst laden press conferences because doing so makes him look like a buffoon. It makes his strategy (relatively) impossible to guess. If his opposition knew what he was up to, they could guess and undermine his strategy. Is his most recent twitter tirade a new course of action, or just a lark? For Trump, it doesn’t matter, because now every tweet or speech is laden with confusion. Either answer has strategic advantage.

2. Distraction

This follows from #1. While his audience is unravelling the craziness of today’s shitpost-storm, the boring but important legislation is being pushed through Congress, the EPA is relaxing environmental protections, education is being shredded and gutted and so on. By being explosive and virulent, Donald Trump can pull attention to himself while his cronies can pull strings behind the scenes. These cronies of course, are extensions of the man himself - he did hire them, of course.

3. Aggression

Recently, when confronted about his approval rating in the recent “BeachGate” scandal, Chris Christie replied, “Poll numbers matter when you’re running for something. When you’re not running for something, they don’t matter a bit. And I don’t care.” That’s a lesson Trump knows quite well. Cite his approval rating all you like, it doesn’t matter until reelection.

Democrats often point to their oh-so-sacred representative democratic system as if it hasn’t failed them before, believing deep in their hearts that come 2020 a new president will be elected and this will all be a bad dream. Is Trump actually looking to get reelected? Maybe, but he doesn’t need to worry about that now. He can accomplish the most specifically by not thinking long-term. By sacrificing his approval rating, which is utterly meaningless, he can gain advantages where others would be cowardly and cautious.

In Magic: The Gathering there is a phrase people pass around - “The only life point that matters is the last one.” Because, in Magic, there is no half-loss or half-win, being at 1 life or 100 does not determine winner and loser. Only being at 0 life matters. A win is a win regardless of your final life total. By using this idea, Donald Trump need only narrowly avoid whatever his “lose” state is to gain advantage.

A famous Magic: The Gathering example is the infamous card “Necropotence”. For the uninitiated, having more cards in hand than your opponent signifies an incredible advantage. “Necropotence” causes a player to skip their draw step each turn, but in return that player can spend a life to draw a card - as many times as they like. Since a player begins the game with 20 life, they may spend 19 life to draw 19 cards, leaving them at 1 life, but with a massive advantage in terms of cards. With all these cards, the player with “Necropotence” can formulate a win. (fellow Magic players, forgive the simplification).

This is a card in Trump’s hand. Trump can do whatever he likes because he doesn’t care about his approval rating. This is a strategy the Democrats find too risky, and therefore aren’t willing to implement.

4. Redundancy

Some may have spotted my mention of a “lose” state for Trump and come to the conclusion that this means impeachment. Not quite. By having the White House full of Trump look-alikes - e.g. Pence - Trump is able to make himself nearly unimpeachable. Some Democrats have already pledged themselves to impeach Trump, impeach Pence, and just keep impeaching. But an impeachment takes time and energy. While Democrats will be busy impeaching, Republicans and the Right will be busy doing damage. Trump needn’t be in power for him to win, since each person below him is likely to just perform the same actions as Trump himself. By making his cabinet redundant - that is, basically all the same - Trump is able to make the process of impeachment many times more inefficient, many times more difficult, and eventually doomed to failure.

5. Fairness Instead of Justice

Post-Charlottesville, Trump condemned “both sides” - right and left - of the conflict. Trump also called the media’s treatment of himself and the protesters as “unfair.” The trick here is that fairness is not the same as justice.

Consider the case of four diners at a table, one starving, three that feel just fine. In the middle of the table are 100 peas. Fairness is to distribute 25 to each diner; justice is to give the starving person all the peas.

When Trump cites “fairness” he is actively spreading the hurt, redirecting as much of it as he can away from far-right groups while still being “fair.” In political games, this is a common strategy. “Equal” treatment often only means that one group is assigned more hurt or gain than another, with the semblance of this not being problematic at all.

This is why feminists are called “feminists” rather than “egalitarian” - because equality isn’t just. The emphasis is on female liberation rather than making all genders equal. Its why reparations for black communities are important but are labeled as “unfair.” Fairness and Justice are not the same, and Trump knows and exploits this fact while still being able to wave a flag of equality.

Sadly this is just the tip of the iceberg. I’m not the first and I won’t be the last to look at the strategies of the Trump administration. The left needs to visualize these and more to develop strategies to counteract them. The left must themselves become aggressive, seek justice over fairness, eliminate Trump’s smokescreen, and utilize the sovereignty of the people to take down the late-capitalist systems that let Trump come to power. Further, the left must collectively recognize that Trump is the symptom of late-capitalism and nothing more. 2020 is too late, by then the damage will be done and any Democrat candidate will only be able to sew back a few of Trump’s rips, but will still engage in rampant war, exploitation of labor, and the curse of privatization.

Trump is dangerous. Capitalism is dangerous. And ignoring their strategies is dangerous.

[just4programmers]

Coders: Context Switching is hard for both computers and relationships

Clive Thompson is a longtime contributing writer for the New York Times Magazine and a columnist for Wired and now has a new book out called "Coders."

"Along the way, Coders thoughtfully ponders the morality and politics of code, including its implications for civic life and the economy. Programmers shape our everyday behavior: When they make something easy to do, we do more of it. When they make it hard or impossible, we do less of it."

I'm quoted in the book and I talk about how I've struggled with context-switching.

Here is TechTarget's decent definition of Context Switching:

A context switch is a procedure that a computer's CPU (central processing unit) follows to change from one task (or process) to another while ensuring that the tasks do not conflict. Effective context switching is critical if a computer is to provide user-friendly multitasking.

However, human context switching is the procedure we all have to go through to switch from "I am at work" mode to "I am at home" mode. This can be really challenging for everyone, no matter their job or background, but I propose for certain personalities and certain focused jobs like programming it can be even worse.

Quoting Clive from an ArsTechnica article where he mentions my troubles, emphasis mine:

One of the things that really leapt out is the almost aesthetic delight in efficiency and optimization that you find among software developers. They really like taking something that's being done ponderously, or that's repetitive, and optimizing it. Almost all engineering has focused on making things run more efficiently. Saving labor, consolidating steps, making something easier to do, amplifying human abilities. But it also can be almost impossible to turn off. Scott Hanselman talks about coding all day long and coming down to dinner. The rest of the family is cooking dinner and he immediately starts critiquing the inefficient ways they're doing it: "I've moved into code review of dinner."

Ordinarily a good rule of thumb on the internet is "don't read the comments." But we do. Here's a few from that ArsTechnica thread that are somewhat heartening. It sucks to "suffer" but there's a kind of camaraderie in shared suffering.

With reference to "Scott Hanselman talks about coding all day long and coming down to dinner. The rest of the family is cooking dinner and he immediately starts critiquing the inefficient ways they're doing it: "I've moved into code review of dinner.""

Wow, that rings incredibly true.

That's good to hear. I'm not alone!

I am not this person. I have never been this person. Then again, I'm more of a hack than hacker, so maybe that's why. I'm one of those people who enjoys programming, but I've never been obsessed with elegance or efficiency. Does it work? Awesome, let's move on.

That's amazing that you have this ability. For some it's not just hard to turn off, it's impossible and it can ruin relationships.

When you find yourself making "TODO" and "FIXME" comments out loud, it's time to take a break. Don't ask me how I know this.

It me.

Yep, here too 2x--both my wife and I are always arguing over the most efficient way to drive somewhere. It's actually caused some serious arguments! And neither one of us are programmers or in that field. (Although I think each of us could have been.) From the day I was conscious I've been into bin packing and shortest path algorithms--putting all the groceries up in the freezer even though we bought too much--bin packing. Going to that grocery store and back in peak traffic--shortest path. I use these so often and find such sheer joy in them that it's ridiculous, but hey, whatever keeps me happy.

This is definitely a thing that isn't programmer-specific. Learning to let go and to accept that your partner in life would be OK without you is an important stuff. My spouse is super competent and I'm sure could reboot the router without me and even drive from Point A to Point B without my nagging. ;)

However we forget these things and we tend to try and "be helpful" and hyper-optimize things that just don't need optimizing. Let it go. Let people just butter their damn bread the way they like. Let them drive a mile out of the way, you'll still get there. We tend to be ruder to our partners than we would be to a stranger.

That’s part of the reason why I’m now making all dinners for my family ;-)

LOL, this is also a common solution. Oh, you got opinions? Here's the spatula!

What do YOU think? How do you context switch and turn work off and try to be present for your family?

Sponsor: Manage GitHub Pull Requests right from the IDE with the latest JetBrains Rider. An integrated performance profiler on Windows comes to the rescue as well.

© 2018 Scott Hanselman. All rights reserved.

[figsandnewtons]

environmental rambles #1: the market is unequipped to handle the fight against climate change

It just occurred to me that for all I post about politics, I don’t actually post about my area of expertise—that being environmental policy and sustainable measures. And as I’m getting deeper into conversations with people, I forget how much I just assume is known. So here’s a loose series I’m going to begin. I have no outline or general idea about how long these posts will be.

The key issue when tackling *climate change* or environmental degradation (ugh do I have to write a post that explains how this is a real problem? Please no.), and frankly the key issue when tackling anything in this political climate, is money. Because solving any problem usually requires shelling out, and we have a very entrenched economic system where profit is valued above all else. For instance, with healthcare, consider how many conversations there were about the burdens on small to mid-sized business, or costs shifting to states, or how best to implement price controls. It’s the first thing anyone looks at.

Climate change is tough, because our largest sources of GHG [greenhouse gas] emissions are electricity, transportation, and heating. It seems logical to tackle the actual shit we burn to power this stuff, which is why there’s a push for renewables, or for nuclear energy (97% renewable, but that 3% is a Problem). Ditto for mixing our gas with ethanol (there’s claims that GHG emissions are net-zero because corn fields act as carbon sinks, but honestly, corn production in the USA is its own damn topic), or the push to mass transit, telecommuting, the purchasing of off-sets for travel, and electric cars.

Believe it or not, we do have scientific solutions to all of this, at least at some level. We are able to generate electricity through processes that do not emit many or any GHGs (solar, wind, hydroelectric, tidal power, etc., though strengths and weaknesses of all of these is another topic). However, there’s obvious shortcomings in how our electrical grid distributes it, in storage technology, in differing regional capabilities...it’s a whole thing, trust me.

Now, that’s not to say there aren’t challenges to how we currently get delivered electricity, but those challenges have been accommodated by our infrastructure, which is shaped largely by our market. It is more economic currently to keep sending electricity through our shitty and inefficient grid using a Large, Centralized Power Plant™ than it is to implement SMART-grid technology, to have a variety of power sources (geothermal heatpumps coupled with solar panels), and so on. Ever play Sim City 2000? Stick the power plant there, lay down the wires, and you have civilization. Nifty.

On another level, there is nothing that stops businesses from being incredibly unenvironmental in their practices. One example, which I promise I will detail more later, is that properly fertilized soil (soil cows have pooped on) acts as a carbon sink. Yet our current agro system is such that it is *cheaper* to pump in chemical fertilizers (which emits GHGs in their production and are usually quite oil-reliant), to use monocultures for efficient crop growth and harvesting (limiting biodiversity, and creating strains that are increasingly pesticide resistant, thereby needing to up the amount of pesticides used, which also have an environmental footprint), and to stick cows onto concrete feedlots where they are fed with said monocultured corn to get really fat really quickly.

What I just described...there is a ton of environmental damage in this practice, and that’s not even counting methane pockets from all the cows shitting and burping together, or the intense, intense water requirements (and water pollution) of such a system. But these damages, these costs to our environment, are external to our market system.

And that’s the crux of it, the tragedy of the commons, where any shared resource is vulnerable to self-interested behavior, and it’s exceedingly difficult to do anything about it without regulations. In this case, the resource is our entire planet.

These externalities—GHG emissions, biodiversity loss, water pollution, etc.—mean that the company or actor creating the problem is not the one who has to pay for it. So it is offset to someone else, be it the people who have to pay for the water clean-up, or on a larger scale, the economic costs as our planet heats up (droughts, increased extreme weather events, floods, environmental refugees...I can keep going for a while). Therefore, there is no economic incentive for an individual actor to stop doing it, unless there is pressure from clients/consumers (brand reputation risk), or economic risk to their business model as a result of climate change/environmental degradation. These are risks that most businesses do not consider, unless they are specifically asked to do so.

Similarly, there is little economic benefit for individuals to act in the best interest of the environment. Buying offsets for a plane flight is an additional cost to you. Electric cars are often more expensive. Taking public transportation to work is often more expensive or inaccessible to where you need to go. Walking/riding a bike is likely infeasible. There’s exceptions (EnergyStar rated products save in the long-run, just as measures to properly insulate your home or change lighting can improve heating and cooling bills), but overall all, incentives are entirely lacking. Or penalities for bad behavior, though there are exceptions there too.

Gas is soooo expensive in California, and it’s really annoying to pay $20 as a toll when driving into NYC, right? Yes, but this is the kind of shit that’s been implemented to create an economic penalty for acting against the best interest of the planet. The issue is that it’s not consistent across the board, and it’s usually not enough to actually affect our systems, especially when larger standards and regulations, such as our CAFE standards for allowable fuel efficiency in vehicles produced, matter more (and are currently in danger of being stripped away entirely). A good example is how in Southern California people are told to limit showers and restaurants stopped providing water without request to tackle the drought, and yet nothing was done about the intense irrigation needs of farmers. Why the fuck is cotton and rice grown in a desert?!

Oh, because it’s cheap and can be.

So this is sticking point #1 for why climate change feels so unsolvable. Our entire economic system fails to account for this. The “invisible hand of the market” doesn’t have a way of placing a dollar value on environmental degradation. A carbon tax is one solution that could alter this entirely and allow the harm we’re doing to be properly valued. Implementing it across the board...that’s more difficult. And there really would be small to mid-sized businesses, as well as individual consumers, who would be hurt. How do you pass policy that would make our meat at least 3x as expensive? I mean, it should be, it *needs* to be, but politically, how do you get something like that any traction?

There’s no simple answer, other than championing politicians on all levels of government who champion this cause. I’m sure that won’t take too long or anything...

On that cheery note, until next time.

[findingschmomo]

[UshIwaOi] Three’s A Crowd [CH9]

Title: Three’s A Crowd Pairings: UshIwaOi, Iwaoi, Ushioi, UshIwa Rating: T Genre: Polyamory, Romantic Comedy, Angst Links: AO3

“Together they are a hurricane, land drawing the sea, and the sea drawing to the land in a constant swirl. Together they urge Ushijima to think beyond simple plays, reconsider obvious solutions. Together they pull at every part of him, picking away at his defenses. Together.”

Ushijima puts the kettle down on the tray, accompanied by three ceramic tea cups. His hands tremble slightly and he takes a deep breath, pushing it out through pursed lips.

He does this three times, counting as he does so.

He opens his eyes and peers around the corner to where Oikawa and Iwaizumi are sitting. They’re sitting side by side, immersed in deep conversation, nodding emphatically at each other, using their hands to express their points. And laughing.

Ushijima rubs his temples with his hands because he is so utterly confused.

Because he loves that their both so happy, all giggles and smiles, it fills him with an intense warmth just at the sight. He’s not sure why the feeling is so powerful, his friendship with both boys still so fledgling and so fragile. Other things are more pressing then dissecting that. He can’t comprehend how the both of them could have such a dramatic mood shift in so little time.

He feels left behind.

Because he is most certainly not happy at the moment.

He squeezes the handles on the tray, thumb rubbing idly against the smooth metal, preparing himself to enter, to bulldoze right through and make his presence know. To be included.

Before he can, however, he hears Oikawa call out to him, “Ushiwaka-chan! I prefer my tea somewhat warm, so if you can hurry it up please!”

Ushijima hears an audible thump and a high pitched whine, followed by a friendly, “Don’t mind him, he’s a brat!”

Ushijima’s grip on his tray feels more precarious, his hands sweaty on the handles. He takes another breath and steels his face.

He enters into the room, silently placing the tray onto the low table, before sitting down on the cushion across from his two guests. He picks up the kettle, pouring hot water into each cup, nudging it in the direction of its new owner. He then offers up his neatly organized collection of tea bags, unsure what the other teens would prefer.

He grabs his favorite, slipping it into his cup.

Oikawa digs through the packets with a focused, pursed lip. His pink tongue peaks out from the corner and it’s kind of cute, Ushijima thinks. He also thinks about how it tasted, in his own mouth, barely an hour ago. He swallows, eyes looking down at his darkening cup.

Oikawa snatches out a citrus flavor for himself and offers Iwaizumi something a bit more bitter. Iwaizumi takes it without a second glance, an air of familiarity and nonchalance surrounding the exchange. Ushijima can’t help watching the interaction from the corner rim of his glass, and his chest stings. His heart squeezes tight, compacting painfully within his chest.

“What places deliver near here?” Oikawa asks, dipping his packet into the hot water. He doesn’t let the bag simply sink, fidgety hands constantly moving it around his drink. Ushijima finds it incredibly inefficient and impractical.

“My mother should be home soon.” Ushijima responds instead.

Iwaizumi waves his hand, “Oh, we don’t want to be a bother.”

Ushijima raises his palm up, “I have already informed her. She is excited.”

“Don’t normally have friends over huh?” Oikawa teases with a raised brow, grinning around his cup.

“No.” Ushijima agrees, seriously, and it makes the taste in Oikawa’s mouth bitter. He sips his tea, swallowing down the elbow to the ribs Iwaizumi swiftly delivers. He cringes, and tries to play it off as the liquid burning his tongue, and not the jab at his side.

“Thanks for having us.” Iwaizumi says, nodding his head a little awkwardly as he does.

Ushijima stares at him. Stares at the both of them. And he feels the grip on his cup tightening until he’s clenching it in his hands and he has to breathe again to let go. Oikawa and Iwaizumi are looking at him, their shoulders practically touching, their hands practically touching, all of them practically touching until it’s hard for Ushijima to separate the two melting people. And it looks so natural, so easy, and it makes him want to smile slightly, but it also makes him want to scream. He’s never felt so many emotions in his life, never mind all at once.

He neither smiles nor screams. Instead, he lets nothing flit across his face.

Let go.

“You do not have to stay for dinner if you are uncomfortable. Please know I am happy for the both of you.” He murmurs, “I was wrong to ever interfere. I wish you many years of good fortune together.”

Both Oikawa and Iwaizumi flame up at the statement, faces hot, eyebrows high. It’s endearing. They share a glance, and Ushijima is happy he’s settled everything. Now he can move on, to greener pastures, to more potable soil.

It kills him.

“That’s not-,” Oikawa starts, suddenly, bringing Ushijima back to the field at hand.

“That’s not entirely true.” Iwaizumi finishes, scratching the back of his neck. Neither of them are looking at each other now, or at Ushijima. Oikawa is fiddling with the end of the rug he’s perched on, Iwaizumi is busy studying the wall.

Ushijima furrows his brows, “What do you mean?”

“It’s complicated.” Oikawa supplies, fingers digging into the rug.

“We don’t really get it either.” Iwaizumi continues, getting redder and redder. His eyes climb higher as he starts focusing on the ceiling, as if this new angle will make his face return to a less embarrassing color.  

Ushijima is lost again. He tries to search Iwaizumi’s eyes for some sort of understanding, those clear windows never good at hiding anything. But Iwaizumi’s eyes remain locked above, hard to decipher. When he glances back toward Oikawa, he finds him looking at him, but his dark eyes reveal nothing to the taller teen.

“Ushiwaka-chan,” Oikawa starts, brown gaze piercing, “If you had to choose between me and Iwaizumi, who would you choose?”

Ushijima stares right back at him, “It would depend.”

Iwaizumi snorts, and his eyes return to the exchange at hand.

“If I wanted a companion to go hiking in the mountains with, I would choose Iwaizumi.” Ushijima continues, “If I wanted help buying a suit for my cousin’s wedding I would choose Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi laughs again, louder, “Those are really specific instances.”

Oikawa doesn’t get bogged down in the details, “Then, who would you choose to give a kiss?”

Ushijima doesn’t respond immediately, not because he is embarrassed, but because he is thinking. Because at first the answer seems obvious. It has always been about Oikawa, was always supposed to be about Oikawa, so the setter’s name rests on the edge of his lips. But then his eyes catch Iwaizumi, trustworthy Iwaizumi, with his calming gaze, and gruff voice. Iwaizumi who has been there for him like no one else has. And then it is his name ready to burst from his chest.

But then Oikawa flits across his gaze once more. Brilliant Oikawa, daring Oikawa, with the fire in his eyes, and the drive to go farther. Oikawa who has always pushed him to be better, who has always challenged him to think bigger.

And back and forth and back and forth until Ushijima feels absolutely dizzy from it all.

“I do not...I do not know.” He answers honestly. And it feels like giving up, which is something he’s never really done in all of his life. Because he’s always tried and given his all and usually pushed his way through. But this seems insurmountable, not so much like a tall mountain begging to be climbed, but like cupping water in his hands. Because if he grips too hard, it’s inevitable that most of it will slip through the cracks of his fingers.

But neither Oikawa nor Iwaizumi seem surprised by the answer. In fact, Oikawa’s face is smug, and Iwaizumi’s is flecked with a sincere understanding. It winds him. Knocks him down a peg just as the pair are want to do. Because Oikawa is confusing and challenging, and Iwaizumi is faithful and grounding.

But together they are something else entirely.

Together they are seamless, interwoven by a bond unchallenged by time.

Together they are a hurricane, land drawing the sea, and the sea drawing to the land in a constant swirl.

Together they urge Ushijima to think beyond simple plays, reconsider obvious solutions.

Together they pull at every part of him, picking away at his defenses.

Together.

“Both.” Ushijima says, the word slipping out as he’s caught in their clutches, in their mixed gaze. He’s embarrassed by the word, feels his face heat up, if only a little. It makes him sound greedy, but Ushijima knows he’s always hungered for more, whether it be on the court or in life, so maybe it’s not that surprising.

“You just have to have everything don’t you?” Oikawa comments, but his tone is not biting, rather it lilts in such a playful way, tone dancing with his darkened brown gaze. It’s enough to have Ushijima shiver, and Iwaizumi flame up beside him.

“You’re one to talk,” Iwaizumi interrupts, trying to reclaim some dignity, “You’ve never been one to share.”

Oikawa laughs into his hand, a grin tearing up his carefully crafted smug expression, “Iwa-chan, you’re ruining the moment.”

“And you’re making it gross.” Iwaizumi supplies with a huff, “Stop acting like we know more than him.”

Ushijima blinks.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa whines, head tilting dramatically, “You’ve ruined our upper hand! Don’t you know anything about strategy?”

“I know enough to know we should all be on an even playing field if we want this to work.” Iwaizumi points out.

Oikawa purses his lips, but he doesn’t protest, brown eyes glancing back at Ushijima. Iwaizumi follows the gaze as well, offering an apologetic smile.

And Iwaizumi does what he does best; he tells the blunt, frank and honest truth,  “It’s an absolute mess, Ushijima,” he sighs, “We’re all in love with each other.”

Ushijima blinks again, eyebrows furrowing deep crevices in his forehead, “I’m sorry?”

But before anyone can respond, a fourth voice calls through the house, “Waka-chan! I’m home!”  

Ushijima responds automatically, “Welcome home!”

“Waka-chan?” Oikawa repeats, absolutely delighted.

Ushijima narrows his eyes at him, but there is little he can do as his mother walks into the room, clasping her hands together, “Dinner won’t take long to make. Oh, and these must be your friends!”

Oikawa is quick to his feet, bowing deeply, “Good evening Ushijima-san, it is a pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh my, aren’t you sweet?” The woman replies with a smile, “It’s Oikawa Tooru, right?”

Oikawa’s smile doesn’t falter, “The one and only. You’ve heard of me?”

“Oh, Wakatoshi speaks of you all the time! I’m so happy to have you.” She continues without missing a beat, although she doesn’t catch Oikawa’s widening eyes. She cranes her head to look past him, “And you must be Iwaizumi Hajime?”

Iwaizumi blinks rapidly, awkwardly nodding his head, “It’s nice to meet you.”

Ushijima’s mother beams, “Oh you both must be hungry! I’ll work on dinner now. Wakatoshi set the table, dear.” She adds, before slipping back out of the room.

Iwaizumi and Oikawa stare at Ushijima as he rises up to his full height to follow his mother obediently. He meets their gazes easily, “Is there something wrong?”

“How does she know who we are?” Iwaizumi blurts out.

“I tell my mother everything.” Ushijima shrugs, but he pauses a moment before stepping through the threshold, “Forgive me that is inaccurate. I have not told her everything.”

>Senior Citizens<

>Hanamaki Takahiro: ok wtf you guys

>Hanamaki Takahiro: matsun and I have been calling/texting both of you nonstop and you won’t answer

>Matsukawa Issei: maybe the aliens finally got them

>Hanamaki Takahiro: or maybe our friends have finally combusted from their dumbass levels reaching an all time high

>Matsukawa Issei: thats more likely

>Hanamaki Takahiro: hey oikawa

>Hanamaki Takahiro: iwaizumi

>Hanamaki Takahiro: if you guys don’t answer

>Hanamaki Takahiro: im gonna call the cops

>Matsukawa Issei: or worse

>Hanamaki Takahiro: worse?

>Matsukawa Issei: bring in the big guns

>Matsukawa Issei: call ushiwaka

>Hanamaki Takahiro: the shitlord of shiratorizawa himself

“We can’t, really,” Iwaizumi insists after dinner, once the dishes have been washed and the table cleared.

“We have school in the morning and we didn’t bring anything,” Oikawa continues.

Ushijima’s mother is having none of it, and it becomes increasingly clear to the Seijoh seniors where Ushijima gets his stubborn, fierce nature, “Oh it’s not a problem at all! I can wash the uniforms you’re wearing. You can borrow Waka-chan’s pajamas for the night.”

“Kaa-san, they can go home if they wish too,” Ushijima tries, frowning at his mother.

She tuts at him, “It’s much too late for them to make the trek back home! The bus is terribly unreliable at this hour. I am positive your parents would agree, so give them a call and let them know you’re staying the night.”

And so Iwaizumi and Oikawa find themselves ushered into Ushijima’s large bedroom with little choice in the matter. “Waka-chan, go prepare the bath for your friends,” Ushijima’s mother instructs. Ushijima obediently complies without a word. She turns to her guests, motioning to the large closet, “The guest futon is in there, Waka-chan will give you some clothes to change into. If you need anything just let me know. And don’t stay up too late,” she smiles.

The pair nod and she’s gone.

The pair look at each other.

“She’s probably like ‘I can’t believe my weird son finally brought two whole friends home.’” Oikawa snickers into his hand.

Iwaizumi shoves his shoulder, but not hard enough to budge him, “Stop being an ass.”

“I’ve been on my best behavior,” Oikawa insists, sticking his nose up. Iwaizumi ignores him, turning to the closet to dig out the futon, “What will she think when she realizes what she’s done?”

“What?”

“Forced three teenage boys who all have the hots for each other into a bedroom.”

Iwaizumi hits him with the rolled up futon, shoving it at the squawking boy, “You’re fucking gross.”

“Iwa-chan! That hurts!” Oikawa whines, grabbling with the futon.

“Good.” Iwaizumi snaps, “Now stop being nasty and help me set this up.”

Oikawa grumbles to himself but does as he’s told. It’s a large futon, which is good, since there’s only one for the both of them. Though, they’ve slept in smaller spaces together before, so it’s all par for the course. Iwaizumi doesn’t remember the last time they bothered digging up a guest futon in either of their houses. He’s spent as much time sleeping in Oikawa’s bed as he has in his own.

Ushijima steps into the room as they spread out the futon on the floor, “The bath is ready, who would like to go first?”

Oikawa jumps up, “Me!” He grabs the towel in Ushijima’s arm, “Oh, Iwa-chan, I guess this means you have to call Auntie about sleeping over here! Have fun!” and he dashes out the room.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes.

“Is this alright?” Ushijima asks.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi says, “Don’t worry about it. Thanks for letting us stay over.”

“It is not a problem. My mother is very excited.”

“She seems great.”

“I love my mother very much.” Ushijima nods. Iwaizumi can’t help the smile that cracks his face. Ushijima feels his hands clench at his sides. He turns away to dig through his closet, “I forgot to give Oikawa a change of clothes.” He mutters.

Iwaizumi waves his hand, “No worries. He’ll just come over here and whine about it.” He lies down on the futon, stretching out on his stomach.

Ushijima hesitates, after assembling two changes of clothes for his guests, just a simple T-shirt and shorts, “Iwaizumi, about...about what we were talking about before. I’m still-”

“Let’s wait til we’re all together again, to talk about it.” Iwaizumi interrupts, “It’ll be easier that way.”

Ushijima nods, albeit a bit disappointedly. He sits down on his bed, wondering what he should do with himself.

Iwaizumi has picked up his phone, most likely to call home but he stops mid swipe, “Fuck.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Our friends are freaking out.” Iwaizumi sighs tiredly, “Ug, i don’t want to deal with this right now. If some unknown number texts you ignore it, ok?”

>Senior Citizens<

>Iwaizumi Hajime: hey we’re fine

>Iwaizumi Hajime: you can stop spamming our phones now

>Hanamaki Takahiro: HE LIVES

>Matsukawa Issei: how’d things go with oikawa?

>Matsukawa Issei: or did you kill him and thats why he isn’t responding

>Iwaizumi Hajime: he’s fine his phone is off

>Hanamaki Takahiro: sounds like something a murderer would say

>Iwaizumi Hajime: plus he’s the one who should kill me

>Iwaizumi Hajime: since i treated him like dirt over a misunderstanding where he was actually looking out for me

>Iwaizumi Hajime: the jerks too sweet for his own good sometimes

>Iwaizumi Hajime: don’t tell him I said that

>Matsukawa Issei: damn someones emotional tonight

>Hanamaki Takahiro: also buddy, heads up but you’re in the group chat so oikawa’s def gonna see that

>Iwaizumi Hajime: fuck

By the time Ushijima showers last, parents have been informed, school uniforms have been put in the wash and everyone has settled into the room in their sleepwear for the night.

“Oikawa, you look hilarious,” Iwaizumi snorts, “You’re swimming in that shirt.”

“Shut up Iwa-chan, I can make any outfit work,” Oikawa snaps back. Ushijima’s shirt is huge on him, around the shoulders, but he rectifies this by angling it for an ‘off the shoulder look’. Iwaizumi refuses to say it looks good (even though it does) so Oikawa decides to fight fire with fire, “At least it’s not a dress on me.”

“Fuck off,” Iwaizumi huffs, crossing his arms. So what if the shirt ends somewhere at his mid thigh, at least it fits him everywhere else, “It’s not my fault you both are abnormally tall.”

“You’re so cute Iwa-chan,” Oikawa purrs, “Are you even wearing shorts under there?”

“I’m going to suffocate you while you sleep.”

“I think you both look handsome in my clothes.” Ushijima interrupts from his perch in the middle of his bed.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi both stare at him, “Oh my god.” Oikawa says while Iwaizumi looks a bit flushed, “I can’t believe you just said that.” He starts to laugh, “How can you just say those things?”

“I am just being truthful?” Ushijima replies.

“Ushijima Wakatoshi, I never thought I’d find your bluntness at all endearing,” Oikawa sighs as his laughs quiet down, “Yet here I am.”

Ushijima squeezes his fingers into his palms, “Can we, can we continue discussing what we were speaking about earlier.”

“Yeah,” Oikawa smiles, and it’s soft, angled to the floor, and it’s something Ushijima has never seen before. At least not directed toward him. He swallows.

Iwaizumi sits on Ushijima’s bed and Oikawa follows to do the same, so they find themselves in a somewhat triangular formation on the sheets. Ushijima sits cross legged in front of them, patient and still.

“So, basically, what Oikawa and I just realized a few hours ago is that, we both have a, uh, crush--“

“Iwa-chan and I are in love with each other,” Oikawa interrupts, ignoring the look Iwaizumi shoots him, “But, we also, are both, kinda, in love with you too.”

“But, that...that doesn’t...” Ushijima frowns.

“Nothing is ever as simple as it seems.” Oikawa murmurs, “I’ve never liked playing by other people’s rules anyway.”

“This is hard for me too,” Iwaizumi says sympathetically, “It’s different, and it’s kinda weird but, that’s kind of par for the course when you’re friends with Oikawa. It takes some time to get used to.”

“But how would this, I don’t understand how it would, I have never...”

“Don’t fry your brain trying to wrap your head around this.” Iwaizumi butts in.

“You said it earlier, you would want to kiss us both, right?” Oikawa reminds.

“I did say that.” Ushijima says.

“Look, we don’t have to figure this all out right now,” Iwaizumi says, “We’ll take it slow. Figure out some ground rules. How we want this to look like. Work it all out together.”

“Together?”

“All three of us.”

“All three of us.” Ushijima repeats, and there’s something sacred about the string of words. Something beautiful and wonderful and filling that he can’t help holding them close. It warms his chest, makes his fingers squeeze his crossed ankles, makes him a silly kind of happy deep within.

“Great.” Oikawa yawns, “Now, I need my beauty sleep so I think it’s time for bed, boys,” He’s about to slip off the bed entirely with his announcement when he thinks better of it, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to Ushijima’s cheek and then to Iwaizumi’s.

Ushijima touches his face, blinking.

“Now me!” Oikawa insists, closing his eyes and puffing out his cheeks a little.

Ushijima and Iwaizumi share a glance, before both leaning forward to give Oikawa a kiss on either cheek. Oikawa absolutely grins at the treatment, “Lovin’ it already.”

Iwaizumi swats him off the bed, standing up himself. Oikawa tuts from below, “Hey, we’re making this up as we go, but I think this means you both need to kiss each other goodnight too.”

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, and Ushijima thinks it might be to cover up the red dusting his cheeks. Regardless, Iwaizumi leans down to press his own kiss to Ushijima’s cheek, “Goodnight.”

Ushijima touches that cheek now. Iwaizumi looks at him expectantly, but then seems to doubt himself, so Ushijima leans up to kiss him as well, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight!” Oikawa calls from the futon.

Iwaizumi disappears from Ushijima’s view, slipping into the futon on the ground. Ushijima turns off his light and they are plunged into darkness. Ushijima lies down, eyes focused on the ceiling, face warm, but not unpleasantly so.

He can hear the pair mumbling to each other, can hear them move about the futon in a grumbling argument and Ushijima feels restless, caught between the empty spaces in his bed.

It does not take long for him to speak up again, “Oikawa, Iwaizumi.”

There’s a hum from the ground, an acknowledgement.

“Would it be alright if I joined you both on the futon?”

“Get your butt down here.” Oikawa replies unceremoniously.

Ushijima complies without any hesitation, sandwiching himself between the two with as little ceremony as Oikawa’s words. It’s a tight fit, but Ushijima doesn’t mind having Oikawa pressed against his left and Iwaizumi to his right. And the pair don’t voice any misgivings for the arrangement. If anything the shift a bit closer.

Oikawa even brings his leg up and across Ushijima’s frame. Iwaizumi lifts his head, “Oikawa, I swear to got get your ice feet off of me.”

“You can’t use Ushiwaka-chan as a shield from them Iwa-chan. It’s tradition you suffer their touch.”

“Ushiwaka, kick him off the futon. My legs aren’t long enough.” Iwaizumi orders.

Oikawa cackles, “Not all of us can be blessed with such long beautiful legs,” Ushijima can feel Oikawa wiggle them as he talks.

There are two more arguments, that follow, each causing the pair of boys to snuggle closer and closer to Ushijima, legs and arms wrapping around him as if he is the prize to be won from this fight. Ushijima finds it more amusing than anything else. He feels a quiet rumble of laughter ready to burst from his chest, but everyone has quieted down by then he doesn’t want to disturb them. So he swallows it down, letting a silent smile slip onto his face instead.

And he’s falls asleep soon after.

Together.

All three of us.