#this need mass report i'm going to explode | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shoresoftheshadowlands · 9 days ago

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This is misinformation please stop spreading it for fucks sake I'm sick of people spreading this goddamn proven false conspiracy theory on my dash there are NOT missing votes. They are being counted. Goddamn it. You're making us all look like Stop The Steal morons. We are better than this. This is also old news I've seen this post for almost a week now. There's also now a fucking Elon 'stole' the election conspiracy going around now too and it is just as false. I'm sick of reblogging it with the accurate info and I'm sure my followers are sick of seeing it too. You all need to STOP. You need to ACCEPT. We lost, Okay? it was NOT a landslide, recent tallies prove that. I'm so tired of repeating myself but I want people to understand they are being made fools of by hopes and denial when we need acceptance and resistance now.

youtube

The title on this one and the thumbnail are slightly misleading but Lawrence goes into the numbers on how this wasn't as much of a landslide as it is being portrayed as, current as of yesterday. It's worth the listen, about 15 minutes of your time.

I will post this ONE more time for the people in the back. I am exhausted. This is not being 'defeatist', this is being realistic and accepting. There was no fraud last election and there wasn't major fraud in this one. There were some idiots who burned some ballots, WAY LESS than many reported (None in georgia btw). Most were saved by anti fire mechanisms in the ballot boxes, only some 450 ish were lost and people were contacted to 'cure' those.

The count is STILL ongoing- That's why we don't know yet the entire house and senate.

Please people I am begging you all to use your heads. I know it is tempting to want to believe this couldn't possibly have happened but it did, and we need to move on from here. A lot of places are already vouching to resist Mr.Dump in every way they can, even refusing to mass deport even if ordered. If we're all stuck on the conspiracy theories how are we going to pay attention to what's actually happening right now and resist it?

I haven’t really seen any of the more recent U.S. election news hitting tumblr yet so here’s some updates (now edited with sources added):

There’s evidence of Trump cheating and interfering with the election.

Possible Russian interference.

Mail-in ballots are not being counted or “recognized” in multiple (notably swing) states.

30+ bomb threats were called in and shut down polling stations on Election Day.

20+ million votes are still unaccounted for, and that’s just to have the same voter turnout as 2020.

There was record voter turnout and new/first-time voter registration this year. We definitely should be well over the turnout in 2020.

U.S. citizens are using this site to demand, not only a recount, but a complete investigation into election fraud and interference for the reasons stated above:

Here is what I submitted as an example:

An investigation for election interference and fraud is required. We desperately need a recount or even a revote. The American people deserve the right to a free and fair election. There has been evidence unveiled of Trump cheating and committing election fraud which is illegal. There is some evidence of possible Russian interference. At least 30+ bomb threats were called in to polling places. Multiple, notably swing states, have ballots unaccounted for and voting machines not registering votes. Ballots and ballot boxes were tampered with and burned. Over 20 million votes that we know of are unaccounted for. With record turnout and new voter registration this year, there should be no possibility that there are less votes than even in the 2020 election.

Sources (working on finding more links but if anyone wants to add info, it’s appreciated):

FBI addressing Russian interference and bomb threats:

Emails released by Rachael Bellis (private account, can’t share original tweet) confirming Trump committing election fraud:

Pennsylvania's Centre County officials say they are working with their ballot scanner vendor to figure out why the county's mail-in ballot data is "not being recognized when uploaded to the elections software:”

Wisconsin recount:

[ID:

Multiple screenshots and images.

The first is a screenshot with a link and information for contacting the White House directly regarding election fraud. The instructions include choosing to leave a comment to President Joe Biden directly and to select election security as the reason.

The screenshot then instructs people to include any or all of the following information in a paragraph as a comment to the president:

32 fake bomb threats were called into Democratic leaning poll places, rendering polling places closed for at least an hour.

A lot of people reporting their ballots were not counted for various reasons.

This all occurred in swing states.

This is too coincidental that these things happen and swing in his favor after months of hinting at foul play.

Directly state that an investigation for tampering, interference, fraud is required, not just a recount.

The second image is from the FBI Twitter account that reads:

The FBI is aware of bomb threats to polling locations in several states, many of which appear to originate from Russian email domains. None of the threats have been determined to be credible thus far. https://t.co/j3YfajVK1m — FBI (@FBI) November 5, 2024

The next four Gmail screenshots of an email sent to Rachael Bellis from Chris T. Spackman that read together as follows:

Dear BELLIS, RACHAEL E., The Dauphin County Board of Elections received a challenge to your absentee ballot you applied for in the November 5, 2024 General Election. The challenge argues that a provision of the Pennsylvania Election Code takes precedence over the federal Uniformed and Overseas Citizens Absentee Voting Act (UOCAVA), which requires states and counties to permit U.S. citizens who move overseas to vote by absentee ballot for federal offices based on their last U.S. residential address.

The full text of the challenge that was filed appears below this email.

You may respond to the challenge in any of the following ways:

1. Call the Bureau of Registration and Election at (717) 780-6360;

2. Email a statement to the Bureau at Election [email protected]. Any statement you submit regarding the period during which you lived in Dauphin County, any family or connections that you still have here, and why you are now residing abroad would be read into the record.

3. Appear in person at a Board of Elections hearing scheduled for Friday, November 8 at a time to be determined in the Commissioners Public Hearing Room, 4th floor of Dauphin County Administration Building, 2 S 20d St, Harrisburg, PA 17111. The meeting is also likely to be livestreamed on Facebook on the Dauphin County channel.

Sincerely,

Christopher T Spackman

TEXT OF CHALLENGE BEGINS

Dear Dauphin County Board of Elections,

I am submitting this challenge to an absentee ballot application pursuant to 25 Pa. Stat.

3146.8(f).

25 Pa. Stat. 3146.8(f) Any person challenging an application for an absentee ballot, an absentee ballot, an application for a mail-in ballot or a mail-in ballot for any of the reasons provided in this act shall deposit the sum of ten dollars ($10.00) in cash with the county board, which sum shall only be refunded if the challenge is sustained or if the challenge is withdrawn within five (5) days after the primary or election. If the challenge is dismissed by any lawful order then the deposit shall be forfeited. The county board shall deposit all deposit money in the general fund of the…

The rest of the forwarded email is cut off.

The last image is a screenshot of the official statement from the Centre County, Pennsylvania Board of Commissioners released on November 6, 2024 that states:

Centre County Working with Ballot Scanner Vendor to Export Election Results.

(Bellefonte, PA) -Centre County Elections Office is working continuously to provide mail-in ballot data in order to post unofficial results.

To this point, all ballots have been scanned, including all mail-in ballots.

Centre County's Election team and IT team have identified that the data are successfully being exported from the mail-in ballot scanners, but that the data is not being recognized when uploaded to the elections software.

Centre County's Administrator, John Franek, Jr. stated, "We have not stopped working, and we will continue to work until unofficial results are posted and reported to the Pennsylvania Department of State."

As a next step, Centre County has begun working with the equipment vendor to adjust configurations to make the two systems-the mail-in ballot scanner and the elections software where data are uploaded -compatible with one another.

We will provide updates as we make progress.

/end ID]

#Once more- With passion #Youtube

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burntblueberrywaffles · 11 months ago

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My 2023 recap (but it's through all my favorites posts I've made this year)

Part 2! (part 1 here)

Aug 14th

Me @ the prequels haters:

Aug 14th

Aug 18th

He did it for me specifically and I thank him every day ❤��❤️❤️❤️

Aug 20th

Me progressively spiraling in my latest sw posts:

Aug 26th

Discovering you’re ace is wild cause like, you guys were serious when you said you wanted to fuck that character/celebrity?

We weren’t just exaggerating and being silly?? UH???

Aug 27th

Watching the end of ROTS: a moodboard

Aug 30th

Having a R2d2 and C3po cameo might be the laziest form of Star Wars fan service but you know what that shit work my dumbass goes “OMG it’s R2 and threepio 🥺🥺🥺” everytime

Aug 31st

Tumblr staff be like: somehow they’re still using desktop, lets add an evil clown

Aug 31st

“I want the main character to end up with this person, even though I hate one of them who sucks and doesn’t deserve to end up with such a good-”

My brother in Christ call me crazy but I don’t think you actually love this ship. Read an x reader or x OC fanfic at this point jfc.

Sept 4th

Me sending a feedback report to complain every time tumblr makes another idiotic change:

Sept 10th

I’m always so scared to assemble it

Sept 15th

I love doing research, I am not tearing my hair out (lying)

Sept 21st

Im so good at forgetting my blorbo is a child murderer you wouldn’t even believe

Sept 29th

Lowest luminosity setting is not low enough why is my iPhone a fucking beacon of light burning my retina with the force of a thousand suns

Sept 30th

Me every few months:

Oct 4th

Oct 18th

Me reading fanfic titles on ao3 after first becoming a Taylor Swift fan:

Oct 28th

My boy was so sleep deprived this would have fixed him.

Oct 29th

Can’t believe you hate on my ship just because it’s toxic, unhealthy and has disastrous consequences for everyone around them. Grow up. 🙄

Nov 11th

I have beef with TCW Anakin

Nov 14th

When people go “ew why would you be into this ship when it’s toxic and problematic” and I’m just

Sometimes you don’t need another reason than "it makes my brain go brrrrr” it’s fiction babes it doesn’t have to be good or healthy ❤️

Nov 15th

I thought “oh it would be fun to randomly send a kitten picture to this one mutual” and then I went insane 🧍‍♀️🧍‍♀️ sorry about that besties

(this isnt a good post but since i'm making this as a 2023 recap I want to commemorate that time I sent kitties to all the beloved mutuals LOL)

Nov 18th

I love these “what do you most associate with [insert US state]” polls bc my non-American ass is always:

Baby I literally have no idea what you’re talking about ❤️

Nov 17th

hate when people are like “why would Padme be into cringefail Anakin it’s so unrealistic”

Like, um, CLEARLY she saw his pathetic weepy eyes and immediately decided she wanted to fuck that. What’s hard to understand.

Nov 20th

I think when you break up with someone their memory of you should be wiped men in black style thank you

Nov 22nd

Philosphy class be like

Nov 25th

Me when the known mass murderer starts murdering

#you’re telling me my genocidal babygirl is in fact genocidal???

Nov 26th

The thing about philosophy class is that most of these dudes you have to learn about just suck.

“Ohhhh humans only use each other and every relationship is only built on the potential advantages you can get from it” So your heart has never exploded thinking about how much you love your friends?? Sounds like a you problem.

Nov 28th

Snow being judgmental and having a constant sense of superiority…. brother you can’t even buy a new shirt HUMBLE YOURSELF

Nov 28th

Me starting the Ballad of songbirds and snakes and reading snow’s inner monologue: this guy sucks lmao I will NOT be rooting for him and Lucy Gray to be together 🙅‍♀️

Snow:

Me: oh goddamn it

Dec 1st

“I liked this thing before it was cool!“ Boohoo you’re not special. You just stumbled upon it before other people, congratulations.

"I still like this thing after it was cool, now that public opinion has shifted from being overly positive to considering it bad and cringe” now that takes strength. Courage. Who I aspire to be.

Dec 3rd

Snow: is always nice to Sejanus, helps him distribute food to the tributes, offers him a seat, gives him advice, CALLS HIM HIS FRIEND, save his life-

Also Snow: wtf this bitch thinks we’re friends????

#babyboy you are so stupid

Dec 4th

Me when I see my friend sadposting: I will smother you with kisses and love. Do you need me to kill someone btw

Also me, when I’m sad posting and friends send me encouragements: Friend??? 🥺 Friend cares about me??? 🥺🥺 friend wants to cheer me up? 🥺🥺🥺

Dec 7th

Tumblr rn feels like a landlord trying to make its tenant leave by not fixing shit and cutting utilities, but unfortunately for everyone involved, I am a rat

Dec 10th

No but seriously no one should try being tumblr famous, this website is for one thing only, and that’s having a silly time with your friends and mutuals 😤

Dec 12th

If your mutuals don’t say hi in the tags when they reblog one of your popular posts from someone else then what is it all for

Dec 12th

“Ew liking unhealthy ships is so toxic-”

“Actually toxic ship are INTERESTING unlike those boring healthy ships that have no flavour-”

Meanwhile me, who can appreciate and enjoy any ship dynamics:

Dec 18th

I’m like an old man shouting at clouds except I’m a 20 years old trying to make everyone listen to La Lumière by pomme asdagshdjfk

#I don’t think anyone is buying what I’m selling but I shall keep trying 😔

Dec 20th

Snow when being friendly to Sejanus results in becoming friends with Sejanus

#bro was really like: you’re telling me the person I’ve been treating well and interacting with regularly thinks I’m his friend??? #and that everyone else also think we’re friends???? #like yeah bby that is how friendship works ❤️

#burntblueberrywaffles #end of the year recap #2023 recap

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lewis-the-quack · 1 year ago

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- Yes. Has it been in your possession the entire time? Would you remove your shoes? - Remove your stinger. - It's part of me. I know. Just having some fun. Enjoy your flight. Then if we're lucky, we'll have just enough pollen to do the job. Oan you believe how lucky we are? We have just enough pollen to do the job! I think this is gonna work. It's got to work. Attention, passengers, this is Oaptain Scott. We have a bit of bad weather in New York. It looks like we'll experience a couple hours delay. Barry, these are cut flowers with no water. They'll never make it. I gotta get up there and talk to them. Be careful. Oan I get help with the Sky Mall magazine? I'd like to order the talking inflatable nose and ear hair trimmer. Oaptain, I'm in a real situation. - What'd you say, Hal? - Nothing. Bee! Don't freak out! My entire species... What are you doing? - Wait a minute! I'm an attorney! - Who's an attorney? Don't move. Oh, Barry. Good afternoon, passengers. This is your captain. Would a Miss Vanessa Bloome in 24B please report to the cockpit? And please hurry! What happened here? There was a DustBuster, a toupee, a life raft exploded. One's bald, one's in a boat, they're both unconscious! - Is that another bee joke? - No! No one's flying the plane! This is JFK control tower, Flight 356. What's your status? This is Vanessa Bloome. I'm a florist from New York. Where's the pilot? He's unconscious, and so is the copilot. Not good. Does anyone onboard have flight experience? As a matter of fact, there is. - Who's that? - Barry Benson. From the honey trial?! Oh, great. Vanessa, this is nothing more than a big metal bee. It's got giant wings, huge engines. I can't fly a plane. - Why not? Isn't John Travolta a pilot? - Yes. How hard could it be? Wait, Barry! We're headed into some lightning. This is Bob Bumble. We have some late-breaking news from JFK Airport, where a suspenseful scene is developing. Barry Benson, fresh from his legal victory... That's Barry! ...is attempting to land a plane, loaded with people, flowers and an incapacitated flight crew. Flowers?! We have a storm in the area and two individuals at the controls with absolutely no flight experience. Just a minute. There's a bee on that plane. I'm quite familiar with Mr. Benson and his no-account compadres. They've done enough damage. But isn't he your only hope? Technically, a bee shouldn't be able to fly at all. Their wings are too small... Haven't we heard this a million times? "The surface area of the wings and body mass make no sense." - Get this on the air! - Got it. - Stand by. - We're going live. The way we work may be a mystery to you. Making honey takes a lot of bees doing a lot of small jobs. But let me tell you about a small job. If you do it well, it makes a big difference. More than we realized. To us, to everyone. That's why I want to get bees back to working together. That's the bee way! We're not made of Jell-O. We get behind a fellow. - Black and yellow! - Hello! Left, right, down, hover. - Hover? - Forget hover. This isn't so hard. Beep-beep! Beep-beep! Barry, what happened?! Wait, I think we were on autopilot the whole time. - That may have been helping me. - And now we're not! So it turns out I cannot fly a plane. All of you, let's get behind this fellow! Move it out! Move out! Our only chance is if I do what I'd do, you copy me with the wings of the plane! Don't have to yell. I'm not yelling! We're in a lot of trouble. It's very hard to concentrate with that panicky tone in your voice! It's not a tone. I'm panicking! I can't do this! Vanessa, pull yourself together. You have to snap out of it! You snap out of it. You snap out of it. - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - You snap out of it! - Hold it! - Why? Oome on, it's my turn. How is the plane flying? I don't know. Hello?

@you-need-not-apply been a while so here <2

PLanEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

#i am lewis #awoken my beloved #stink bug tones #i am lewis asks

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mcurnful · 2 years ago

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Unnecessary force. That’s the whole reason she was here.

The particular subject doesn’t seem to entirely comfort her.

“Before I was in SOLDIER, I was a medic. Combat medic, I guess, that’s about the last time any of this was truly fair.” She breathes out a joyless laugh, mostly to fill the silence.

“They sent me… recently… on a mission with the young woman who’s filling my shoes—an infantrywoman named Jean.” It’s only then that she admits to what happened, albeit gingerly. Her eyes were directed at the floor, instead of at her superior.

“And I… broke her nose.”

She wrung her hands together, the sound of the leather in her gloves amplified in the quiet room, dampened only slightly by the whirrs of technology in the building and buzzing lights above the two of them. To say she regretted it would be a complete understatement. “We didn’t fight. I don’t go around Infantry to show them how strong I am—that’s not what happened. On our assignment, there was a mech… Someone hacked into it, or someone who went rogue did something to it to make it attack us. Hell, maybe it was a test.”

She was stalling, she knew it, and she was trying not to. But it wasn’t a normal occurrence.

“Everything went… right. We defeated it, but… I guess those things have an auto-destruct sequence I didn’t know about. It was going to explode, so I jumped on her. Tried to cover her with my body. She would have gotten hurt, and it would have been terribly bad, so…”

The thing she never anticipated was the new limits her body had. “I pushed her to the ground and.. I’m SOLDIER, so I’m stronger… and bigger than her. Her nose was the first thing to make contact after I landed on her.”

Jean told her she wasn’t going to report it, and she didn’t. But Dietrich was her superior, so she could easily be written up for using her position to bully new recruits. Even if it wasn’t true, after the mass desertion, every SOLDIER member was under a certain deal of scrutiny.

And if Jutta was to stay within her custody and go to the same school, Dietrich needed to keep her position, no matter what happened.

“And the Company wrote me up. Excessive use of force in the presence of a subordinate. They’re... taking it out of my paycheque. But I’ve been told I’m fortunate, I didn’t get written up for an assault because it was... well, an accident.”

Even though she knew Jean would have been critically injured otherwise.

"I'm not happy about what happened. Obviously, I'm not proud, either."

❛ fairness is for happy people. ❜ for angeal — @mcurnful

Displeasure and disagreement are palpable from the immediate furrow of Angeal's brow even if he does not offer a snappy retort, mind deliberating over the sentiment provided as his hands remained busy, putting away the loose equipment left behind by those who'd been using the training rooms earlier.

What was it that nagged at him so, hearing it put like that?

Deed finished, he would turn to face the other SOLDIER with one hand on his hip, pensive frown still in place — to any that would know him, this look often meant to be wary of what responses you gave, as a lecture on morals and responsibility was often soon to follow because that was what this was about, ultimately… in his eyes, at least.

And if he had a chance to instill some of either into anyone at all, he would take it every time. SOLDIER may be Shin-Ra's sword and shield, but if you wanted to be more than a mere weapon, you had to work on your self-image - because even when you 'make' it, corporate vultures and the innate violence of the job would be sure to try to wear it down.

A fighter with no honor is no different from a monster.

"The world may be unfair, but that doesn't mean you can't and shouldn't strive to challenge the odds for those that come after you." Except… that wasn't what she was talking about, was it? He knows, his mind still mulling over it, but he does not allow himself to acknowledge it further. "As for it being strictly for 'happy people', pulling from my own history I can tell you that kindness and fairness can often be found in the most unlikely of trenches - because it is only by being brought down to the lowest levels of our egos do we treat each other with the dignity we are all innately owed."

A hand goes to rest on his chin, then, a wave of retrospection washing over him as he thought deeper into the issue and his own experiences — was this over resentment? He could understand the case, if so, having had to work through his own feelings before joining the corporation, especially when it pertrained to being friends with Genesis and dealing with the clear disparity between their lives before their pararel paths conjoined.

"Is there something in particular bothering you, to bring this up?" The question is not accusatory, merely curious and inviting, prompting Dietrich to speak up if it would help. He was the one SOLDIERs would most often turn to in search of help or guidance for a reason, after all.

#vctlan #sorry for the delay!!

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xpao-bearx · 4 years ago

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《Original post here》

Part 2 HERE

SUMMARY: [Supernatural TWD AU] In which Negan is a kinky incubus, Rick Grimes is your secret guardian angel, and Daryl Dixon is a gruff monster/demon hunter. Three drastically different men who can only agree on one thing: making you theirs.

PAIRINGS: Reader x Negan, Reader x Rick Grimes, Reader x Daryl Dixon (Polyamorous Ships)

RATING: Mature/18+/Romance & Smut. Please be prepared and do NOT report.

NOTE: This is actually my first time ever writing an xReader story series as well as writing on Tumblr (I usually only write on Wattpad). As such, it probs won't be perfect though I would SERIOUSLY appreciate your *respectful* feedback and support!

I understand writing xReader content can get a lil tricky, so please just keep in mind that not everything Y/N says or does would be something that you'd do IRL or even approve of. Also, sometimes I may not help but put a teeny bit of myself in Y/N...

Lastly, I recently got back into the TWD fandom after a looong ass time and I'm taking a while re-watching the whole show. So I apologize in advance if my portrayal of any of the characters are rusty or I may not remember too much of the events from the show, but I promise to do my very best and hope y'all enjoy~!! \(^o^)/

DEDICATED TO: The wonderful @blccdyknuckles and @negans-attagirl 💖

"Heavenly Sins"

Part 1

The sounds of laughter and easygoing chatter filled your ears as you walked closer to the church, a light breeze blowing through your F/C floral dress and the sun blinding your eyes. It was Sunday, most residents of the small town of Alexandria having gathered for mass.

It was a day like any other; peaceful and happy, children giggling and chasing each other around as their parents socialized outside before church could start.

Your heels clacking rhythmically on the pavement, you were just about to enter the building before a familiar voice called out.

"Y/N!"

Spinning, a huge smile instantly reached your ears as you saw none other than Carl Grimes waving enthusiastically at you as he jumped out of a car. From the driver's seat, his father soon followed as he stepped out.

Rick Grimes--dedicated sheriff of this fine town. His usual uniform forgone, instead replaced with a casual navy coloured suit. His baby blues met your E/C, flashing you a bright smile of his own that rivalled the sun itself.

Carl was running towards you now, and once in front he gave you a big hug.

"Settle down, cowboy! It's as if you haven't seen me in forever." You chuckled, ruffling Carl's hair affectionately.

"That's 'cause it did feel like forever." Carl pouted, eventually letting go as he looked up at you.

Before you can reply, Rick patted Carl's head and greeted you. "Hey, Y/N. How are things?" He asked in that endearing Southern accent of his.

"Just fine." You nodded, grinning before you couldn't help but let your gaze wander around a bit. "No Judith?"

It was then that Rick's smile faltered, but just barely. You nearly didn't catch it. "No. She's with her mom."

Rick was divorced from his ex-wife, Lori, after he discovered her cheating on him with his also now ex-bestfriend Shane Walsh. After the divorce, Shane and Lori quickly moved to the neighbouring community of Woodbury together and agreed on joint custody of the kids.

It really made your blood boil; you've interacted with Lori only a few times before so you didn't really have much of an opinion on her...that is, until, you learned what had happened between her and Rick. You knew it wasn't any of your business, but you cared about Rick a lot and he sure as hell didn't deserve to get cheated on.

"Oh." Was all you could say, quite stupidly. Your cheeks reddened, mentally slapping yourself before clearing your throat. "Will I see her in the daycare tomorrow, though?" You were a daycare teacher and even though you loved all of the kids, Judith was your favourite. She was simply such a sweetheart.

Rick nodded, his smile softening. "You got it."

You couldn't continue the conversation as the bells rang, making you jump out of your skin. Carl, noticing this, laughed which made you playfully roll your eyes before slinging an arm around him as all of you went inside.

♡♡♡

You took your place near the back of the church with Carl and Rick. Once everyone was settled and done singing, the service began and Father Gabriel stood on top of the podium. A few minutes into his sermon, the interruption of a motorcycle revving loudly outside sliced through the air. Gabriel flinched in surprise, and it was obvious he was desperately trying to keep his cool. Finally, when it was silent again, you found yourself biting back a smile knowing all too well who had caused the ruckus.

It seems Rick knew, too, judging from how his jaw clenched and his hands turned into tight fists.

The doors were thrown open, making Gabriel flinch once more and some of the congregation turning in the pews to look. But poor Gabriel quickly fumbled with his Bible, raising his voice just a tad to regain their attention.

There was a low whistle accompanying the approaching footsteps, but the congregation did their damn hardest to ignore the latest visitor.

"Damn... I assumed the church would be a lot more welcoming than this." A husky voice whispered, and you at last couldn't hold back as a smile broke through.

"Negan." You whispered back, turning slightly in your seat to see he has taken the spot behind you. His leather clad arms lackadaisically resting on your chair, the musky scent of his cologne invading your senses oh so wonderfully. "Fancy seeing you here."

"What? Is it really that surprising, darlin'?" He grinned, presenting a row of perfectly straight white teeth. "I go to church."

"Not all the time." You pointed out.

"Ah..." He chuckled softly, hazel eyes twinkling. "That's 'cause Father Creepy McGee over there is just that. Creepy. As. Shit."

You bit the inside of your cheeks, suppressing your laughter. True, Gabriel did have his moments, but he wasn't that bad. That didn't change the fact that Negan knew exactly how to tickle your funny bone, though.

He was new to Alexandria. It was a lovely town, but since it was relatively small not a lot of people want to move here not unless it was families looking for their children to grow up in a safe environment. Which was why it was quite a shock to find out that a single man like Negan chose this destination, and even more so when he took everyone aback with his infamous pottymouth and rather inappropriate charisma.

He had moved just a couple of houses down from yours, and you made it your mission to befriend him. Right from the get-go, he had piqued your interest and curiousity. He was different from everyone else--even possessing an air of mystery about him--and that definitely intrigued you. And also, perhaps you were just too nice and didn't want him to feel outcasted. Although, that didn't seem like an issue to him at all.

"Want one?" You were brought back to reality when you saw Negan's hand outstretched with a pack of cigarettes.

"Dude, we're in church." You reprimanded, frowning.

Negan didn't say anything, only cocking a brow and still with that same shit-eating grin. You sighed, finally giving in as you swiftly grabbed one and stashed it away in your purse for later.

"Y/N." You turned to the left, Rick's icy gaze piercing you. "Pay attention."

"R-Right. Sorry..." You mumbled sheepishly.

Carl, who was sitting in the middle of you and Rick, had dozed off. Rick nudged him, but the brunette only groaned softly and snuggled into Rick's chest. Defeated, the sheriff sighed and was just about to listen again to Gabriel before Negan cut in.

"Rick!" Negan purposely raised his voice, knowing it would get a rise out of the other man. "Didn't even see ya there. Howdy, cowboy!"

Rick grimaced, and it looked like he was just going to ignore Negan though he knew that if he did that then Negan would just irritate him even further. "Good to see you, Negan." He forced himself to say.

"Only you can say that while giving me such a deadly side eye, Grimes." Negan snickered. "How have you been? How's the wife?"

Rick flushed, his fists in a tight ball again and it looked like his nails would be digging into his skin. You abruptly swung into action, placing a hand on Rick's own.

"Rick..." You said gently. "It's okay. Calm down."

Rick did, his shoulders drooping as if a heavy weight had been lifted. He can barely pay any attention to Gabriel now, then you suddenly stood up and grabbed Negan's arm.

"We need to talk. Now."

"What, we going for a quickie?" Negan smirked, but that soon faded when he saw your serious expression. He sighed dramatically, reaching his full height as he towered over you before following you out.

At this point, you didn't care if people saw what transpired or would even start gossiping. No one, not even Negan, was allowed to harass Rick. He has helped you through so much shit--more than you'd like to admit--and you at least owed him this much.

Once outside, next to where Negan parked his motorcycle, you exploded. "What the fuck is with you?! You leave Rick alone, or I swear to fucking Christ I will--"

"Woah, woah, woah! Hold your horses, missy!" Negan guffawed, his hands up in mock surrender. "I mean, I like 'em feisty, but goddamn! Watch your fucking language."

"Tch. You're one to talk."

"Did you just scoff at me?" He raised his brows, putting his hands in his pockets as he slowly drew closer to you. A devilish grin tugged at the corners of his mouth, tilting his head slightly. "No one's ever fucking scoffed at me and didn't regret it soon after."

You frowned, letting out a huff as you met his gaze challengingly. "As if you'd do anything to me."

He was silent for several moments before chuckling, leaning back against his motorcycle. "You're right. I have too much of a soft spot for ya." He pulled out a cigarette, lighting it then taking a drag. He drew his head upwards, puffing out the smoke. "Whaddya say we just forgive and forget? I truly am sorry. You can even tell Rick that I am metaphorically down on my goddamn knees begging for forgiveness~"

"I'm not forgiving or forgetting anything until you actually face Rick and apologize yourself." You muttered. And without another word, you spun on your heel and strutted back inside the church with your head held high.

Negan's intent stare lingered where your ass had just been, taking another long drag and letting out a small laugh to himself.

His eyes suddenly glowed a crimson red, a smirk playing on his lips.

Oh, he really did pick a GREAT one.

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adhdanalogbrain · 5 years ago

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How do you convince your parents to get you tested for ADHD, ADD, or anything that follows that? I've asked my mom a lot of times, but she says I'm fine. She doesn't see my behavior at school or in my room though. Any suggestions?

First of all - asking for help is really fricking hard so kudos to you for reaching out, that is awesome of you and you should be proud.

Hokay, so. I’m going to walk you through the process of how to talk to your mom about ADHD, and then we’re going to look at 4 possible outcomes of that conversation and what to do next.

How to Structure the “Mom, I have ADHD” Conversation

We’re going to start by looking at the context of where your mom is coming from, because that is what’s driving how you’re going to talk to her about this. Back in the late 90′s and early 2000′s, mass media exploded with ~Discourse around kids and teens using ADHD meds. Specifically, the belief was that kids were rampantly buying and selling Ritalin/Adderall and using them to get high. The reality was, the people who bought ADHD meds used them... to study for exams.... because they likely had undiagnosed ADHD. But this was a Whole Big Thing for a long time, so there’s an entire generation of people who are programmed so that any mention of ADHD brings up a “404: Drug Abuse!!!” error.

We can get around this.

Here’s my advice for the next time you bring this up with your mom: shift your focus away from ADHD, and center your focus on how ADHD affects your life.

Here’s the structure of your argument:

1. Briefly describe the specific symptom: “I have a really hard time keeping track of all my different assignments and due dates.”

2. Describe what you are already doing to cope with this symptom: “I have a daily planner to write everything in, and a task tracking app on my phone that gives me reminders when something is due.”

3. Describe the problems you are having despite using the coping mechanism already in place: “I have a hard time keeping the planner up to date because teachers will announce changes in assignments or due dates at awkward times, or in the middle of emails, when my planner isn’t open in front of me.”

4. Describe how this symptom, despite your best efforts, is negatively impacting your life: “My history paper last month was docked 5 points for being a day late, I got a 60 on my last math test because I thought I had an extra week to study, and I got an Effort is inconsistent comment on my report card for three different classes.”

Create this structure around the 2 or 3 ADHD symptoms that currently have the biggest negative impact on your life. Describe them to your mom. Remember to keep the focus off of ADHD, and centered around “I am having these symptoms, and I am trying really hard to manage them, but they’re still causing me major problems.”

Then, tell your mom you want professional help to learn better coping skills. Do not mention medication (NOTE: Yes I know you want medication. We’ll get there, but roll with me for now, ok? This is strategy). You can say something like, “I’m doing my best and trying as hard as I can, but I’m spending most of my time and energy dealing with these symptoms by myself. I really think it’s time to make an appointment with the doctor -- before I crash and burn.”

And then: stop talking. Make the ask. Don’t keep adding more and more reasons. Stop talking right there, look at her, and wait for her response. (This, by the way, is also how to do salary negotiation in the workplace)

If Your Mom is a Reasonable, Neurotypical Person

Neurotypical parents do not realize how much mental / emotional / physical energy we expend over the course of the day in order to Cope. You and I, we totally grok “I wanted to do the dishes but I couldn’t because the garbage can was full”, but neurotypical parents need to have it explained to them. If your mom is reasonable, then explaining it this way should help her to realize you’re struggling with a significant problem that you need help with. It might take a couple conversations, but a reasonable person ought to be able to follow the logic.

If Your Mom is a Reasonable Person Who Also Has Undiagnosed ADHD

YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE HOW OFTEN THIS HAPPENS

My friend Jen spent years trying to explain ADHD to her mom, Cindy. She couldn’t figure out why Cindy didn’t grok it, and Cindy couldn’t figure out what, specifically, Jen was complaining about. It caused a lot of tension in their relationship.

And then finally, Jen was describing the extensive way that she was managing a certain symptom, and her mom said, “But I do that, too, and I don’t have ADHD.”

LIGHT BULB MOMENT. Cindy also has ADHD, but she didn’t ever know it. So she thought that everyone struggled with the things she and Jen struggled with. SPOILER: Neurotypicals do not keep 4 different planners and write 17 different to-do lists and then panic because they don’t know what to do when and then freeze up and do nothing.

If your mom has undiagnosed ADHD (or a cousin of it), this could be a reason why she thinks you’re “fine” - because she is “fine”. If you think she’d be open to the, “Uh, Mom, do you struggle with this, too? Because....” conversation, have at it. If you’d rather steer clear, that’s okay, too. It’s not your job to diagnose your mom. Her mental health is her responsibility.

If your mom is a reasonable person, you’ll get your appointment. At which point - tell the doctor what you told your mom. Let the doctor be the one to say, “Well, sounds like you could benefit from some ADHD medication,” and let the doctor have the subsequent argument with your mom.

If There’s Something Else Going On

Your mom’s resistance to getting you tested might have nothing to do with you or your symptoms. There might be something else going on entirely, the consequences of which mean she’s resistant to taking you to the doctor. These could include, but are not limited to: she’s already reached her limit on her FSA/HSA, she’s not sure her insurance will cover it, she’s worried about the deductible, she doesn’t want to go looking for a specialist who’s in-network, she’s missed too much time at work for appointments and doesn’t want to miss any more, she has doctor-visit-anxiety, etc.

Some of these reasons are valid. Some of them might feel valid to her, but in reality may not be. If you feel comfortable, you can dig into this a bit, for example by asking her, “What’s the harm in making an appointment with the doctor and seeing what they say?”

If Your Mom Is an Unreasonable Person

Sometimes, parents are unreasonable. They may be unreasonable about one (1) specific thing. Or they may be altogether unreasonable people.

Which means they cannot be reasoned with.

I don’t know how old you are or what state you’re in (and state regulations vary REALLY WIDELY) so I can’t give you specifics on how you can access ADHD treatment on your own. I can, however, give you some suggestions:

1. The next time you go to the doctor for a regular physical, bring it up with them yourself. Preferably when your parent is out of the room (if you are old enough to have a tumblr you are old enough to have your parent leave the room for your physical)

2. Talk to a teacher, counselor, or administrator at your school (who does not suck) and ask them for help. They may know things you and I don’t about how the ADHD diagnosis process works in your state. They may also be able to figure out ways to get you support from the school without an official diagnosis.

(Remember: ADHD management is not just medication. It’s lifestyle changes, it’s getting specific types of help, it’s giving yourself a break sometimes. Yes your ultimate goal is to get ALL the tools you need in order to function at a comfortable level, but getting even SOME of the tools will be so, so helpful).

3. Check The Google for info about what your state requires for an ADHD diagnosis. When I was diagnosed, my doctor gave me a short checklist, I said “I experience all of this very badly,” and he handed me a prescription. When my friend LauraMKaye was diagnosed, she had a vastly different experience. YMMV. (Definitely read that link, though, Laura gives some EXCELLENT advice on navigating a complex diagnostic process)

Important Warm Fuzzy Conclusion

If nothing pans out, and you’re stuck waiting until you’re independent before you can get a diagnosis, well, that sucks. A lot. You shouldn’t have to wait that long. But you are not doomed. (Hi hello we have ADHD we are slightly prone to catastrophizing). There are a lot of ways you can cope with the symptoms of ADHD (the most important, imo, being to pay attention to your SNAP) so that you don’t get overwhelmed. Ask for help. Look up resources. Find what works for you.

I hereby give you explicit permission to give yourself a break. I hereby give you explicit permission to let some things drop. You do not have to give 100% all of the time. You do not have to Do Your Best At Every Moment. Flunk a quiz. Read half the book. Turn in something late for half credit. Take a nap during study hall. Do not drive yourself into the ground trying to prove something to people. YOU matter. Your emotional health matters. I hereby give you explicit permission to put yourself first.

#long post #adhd #askbox

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lairofsentinel · 5 years ago

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i'm looking at the stuff you're showing about chile and tbh. i just. why are cops always on the side of the government, and never on the side of the very fucking people they're supposed to protect and whose money is used to pay them. why do they always beat up people. why are they like that in pretty much every single protest ever every fucking where. literally why. (tho yours are especially fucking bad, they sure as hell are using the fact that it won't get as much reporting or punishments)

In a oversimplified way to answer this: because the system allows the accumulation of power and resources of a small group [rich people, bourgeoisie, corporations, external interests, pick the one you want, in all cases, all of them are part of the 90% of the political system/parliament/executive power of the country, so this idea of democracy has always been a lie] and they are protected by their "dogs" [cops, military shit, soldier crap]. Those dogs are also poor people who are paid to beat, kill, and rape other poor people in order to protect the group with accumulated power/resources.

This show of power is Shock Doctrine in its finest. This is all about keeping the masses filled with fear and paralysed [after all, poor people are a LOT more massive than rich groups and could seize a whole country with a massive coordination of disobedience]. Powerful groups know this. And they FEAR this. This is why they use a lot of money in security that reinforces all types of fears and fear to retributions.Of course, their first step is propaganda.

First, they want you to convince you with capitalist propaganda that this is the ONLY system which gives you happiness if you work hard enough, and "freedom" and "peace" and a lot of crap so you focus on it. You keep breaking your bones with three or more jobs so you can “reach” happiness, eventually, since you are working hard like hell. This system also reinforces the individuality, the self-made man [you need to behead everyone to be successful, no matter the cost] and tries to isolate you [this is why the system hates unions and cooperatives or any action that means empathy and cooperation with others].

A lot of poor people share this idea and defend it. This is explained in a sentence by Simon de Beauvoir: “the oppressor would not be so strong if he did not have accomplices among the oppressed themselves”. That's why they want to engrave such propaganda in everyone, it guarantees “social peace” at the expense of many many social groups under terrible living conditions. However, things can't be endured forever, and they explode. And when that happens, you need to install fear in the masses, in order to paralyse them and make them betray each other [Shock Doctrine again. Remember this doctrine was crafted in Canada and USA around the 50-60's and applied, first, in Birmania, aka Vietnam with the terrible war there, and later in South America under the several dictatorships in the region.]

Latinoamerica never liked neoliberalism. This is why the Plan Condor was applied all over the region: to force the neoliberalism in all of its countries. Chile could return to "democracy" with a neoliberal system around 1990 [check dates, I'm rounding everything]. Chile was a social-democracy before their dictatorship, so you can see why it was needed a dictatorship with gringo puppeteers that wanted to destroy “the red”.[A lot of people will say it was communist or some other bullshit... “opinions” go wild here depending of how much History you read].

During the terrorism of State [please, don't call it dirty war – a terrible translation used in books of History written in English, NOT by chance--, it was never 2 armed sides in a battlefield, it was the state [army] massacring and torturing its population], the level of torture and the torture systems used and the dire perversion in it that our parents suffered is something that I CANNOT explain [not because I dont know, I read a lot of heavy stuff related to it, and I tell you, it's impossible to speak these things without feeling your humanity breaking into pieces]. It's because it's too horrible for someone who is not asking details. If you read Shock Doctrine from Naomi Klein, she narrates the slightest versions of it. If you want to know about it from raw material, check just one page of the book Nunca más (Never Again), a report of how the Gov. went savage against their own people. Chile, Brasil and Argentina have a book of this type narrating the atrocities that each dictatorship did on their people, since in those countries it was where the dictatorship was more brutal.

What these pacos [these military shit] is doing is just reopening the fear of all that [as you can imagine, this is more than simple fear. It’s terror.]. Our parents are the traumatised one, and all of them are feeling the looming threat that it was supposed to be closed by now. There is a deep deep scar in South America social memory on this matter. and they are using it to spread fear, and also, to revive the old methods of torture that latinoamerican millenials only read [after all, our parents were the one who lived those shitty times].

Police and military never were supposed to "protect" people in south america. They are sustained by the gov. to repress people. They are the tool for the foreign interests and the bourgeoisie to control the massive poor people. I want to make this clear: they never were meant to defend people. Like gringo army was never meant to “defend” democracies elsewhere.

Military here [in Chile, in Brasil, in Argentina] were instructed in the 70′s in the School of Americas, a fucked up gringo military school where they learnt all the torture system that they used back then [they kept using it in Afghanistan and in Guantanamo, so it’s not “ancient history”]. It's not by chance that Chile had been sending military in the last 5 or 8 years to the SCHOOL OF AMERICAS again! [now under the fancy fucked up name of The Western Hemisphere Institute for Security Cooperation (WHINSEC) . They are supposed to “teach” our army to “defend democracy and life and freedom” and all that shit. You can see it. Lol. No latinoamerican will believe that shit that says wikipedia about them.

So, you can see the context. Military and cops never were meant to protect people. They have never been trained for that. They are meant to protect the bourgeoisie, the corporations, the big companies that are preying on Chile, on its sea and mining resources, on its water, on its mountains.That’s why this phtoshop is so on spot:

Tell a latino that cops protects them... they will laugh [if they are adult enough to understand the dark layers of our History]

[by the way, just to clarify, I'm not from Chile, but the country beside them: Argentina. Still, everything that's happening in Chile is touching a LOT this side too because both countries share the same scars with the same level of dehumanisation [and to be honest, this country has been boiling shit for a long time and it's just a matter of time to explode too]. I'm just trying to spread the word of my Chilean fellows. And considering how their media blockage is working, I'm afraid many people around the world are receiving a gov. version of the disaster happening there. Something that also happened during the dictatorship times, and before anything, I defend human rights. And what's happening there is a total massive violation of the human rights, and opening festering wounds that are hitting us all.]

#chile #system #fuck the *insecurity forces*

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couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name · 7 years ago

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Molly please grace us with a philly super bowl gothic. I need your input on the state of our city rn because I'm trying to explain it to people and I can't adequately convey the palpable emotion and tension in the air

You need to get into city hall for business, but all the streets are backed up for over a mile. Everyone appears to be just laying in the streets for as far as the eye can see. You shove your way through the masses, determined to get to city hall, but to your horror, you realize that is the epicenter of this madness. People are bowing down in worship to the William Penn statue atop the building. You see Jim Kenney lean out of his office window and smile- he believes this praise is for him.

You’ve had to go to three separate eye doctors, certain something is wrong, something is deteriorating. Why can you only see in the color green? The doctors all assure you nothing is wrong, but you haven’t seen a normal color in over two weeks. All these buildings should not be green, it doesn’t make sense.

You are new in town, and your neighbor comes over to chat with a friendly, welcoming smile.“How ‘bout our Iggles, huh?”. You ask her what she’s talking about, but she merely laughs. “Our crazy Iggles! Youse know what I’m talkin’ ‘bout! Our undadawgs! They’re gonna be champions! Big ole’ Billy’s gonna make it happen furus, I can tell. Love them Iggles! Yo, jeet yet taday?” You are left blinking in oncoming horror, trying to piece these incoherent soundbites together. “Yiz want any cawfee?” You are visibly shaking at this point. What is this woman trying to communicate to you. She sees your tremors and laughs again. “Maybe not cawfee, huh? Well, hey, let’s just head over to the MAC machine by the ac-a-me and then I’ll treat youse to some good ole’ wooder-ice? Yo, maybe we can even grab some hoagies!” She has your arm and is dragging you along with her, her smile still plastered on, somehow friendly and threatening all at once. “C’mon! If we hurry, we might be able to catch the Iggles party down by the furry! GOW BURDS!” You cannot escape her grip and you feel sobs beginning to wrack your body. What is she saying.

Your dog got loose in the park and you are trying to locate him. But every where you turn, a person is wearing a german shepherd mask. They are standing there, motionless, seemingly lifeless. Unnerved, you carefully maneuver yourself through the crowd, looking for harmless little Chris. You can’t spot him in the horrifying sea of masked men. You need to get out of here. ‘Chris!’ you yell, hoping to attract his attention. Instead, to your terror, every single masked face turns in your direction. It is still terrifyingly quiet. ‘CHRIS!’ you call again, the desperation clear in your voice. The crowd all moves closer to you, the eye holes seemingly empty. Suddenly your little dog bursts through the crowd and happily leaps into your arms. You sigh in relief. ‘Let’s get out of here’ you mumble under your breath, but little Chris puts his paw up on your shoulder, looks you in the eye, and to your immense fear says, clear as day, ‘We can’t leave. We belong here.’ Trying to pull yourself together, you ask the puppy what he means. ‘We Are The Underdogs’. The masked crowd around you begins to chant ‘Underdogs’ over and over as they move in. Your screams cannot be heard over them. Six hours later, you awake in your home, and when you look in the mirror, you discover you are wearing the german shepherd mask. It will not come off no matter how hard you pull at it. You weep, for now you too are an underdog.

People keep screaming ‘Dilly Dilly’. No one really knows why. It’s just kinda happening.

You are in the library alone, late at night, trying to cram for an exam, when you are suddenly approached by the ghost of Benjamin Franklin. He leans against the desk, splashing bud light all over your textbooks, and one glance at him confirms he’s been recently snorting cocaine. ‘Hey,’ he says, ‘If you suck my dick I’ll pull some strings on the other side so the Eagles will kick Boston’s ass’. You groan. “Ben, please, I’m not in the mood”. He raises an eyebrow, ‘Fine, fine, but if they loose, it’s gonna be on you. Don’t you love your family?’. You know he’s right. Papa’s heart couldn’t possibly take another crushing blow. You take a deep breathe to steady yourself before following him into the backroom.

Alien visitations have increased in tenfold since the city learned the Eagles were going to the super bowl. But hardly anyone has noticed, because everyone is painted green themselves. The aliens have been loving all the cheesesteaks.

‘Say Mama’ you beg your child. He should have started talking months ago. ‘Mama’. He puts his chubby little hands on your cheeks and presses his precious face to yours. ‘Are you gonna say Mama?’ you try again. The child blinks, before clearing his throat and saying “In Nick Foles We Trust”. You cry yourself to sleep that night as your husband high fives all his friends.

Every person knows a person who was personally punched by acclaimed actor Bradley Cooper after voicing distaste for the Eagles.

New Jersey, continuing their act of Just Wanting To Be Philly, lights up everything green as well and makes a big show of prosecuting Boston fans. No one finds it cute. They try harder and harder each time they don’t get a reaction. CBS News tries to give them a shoutout to just get the madness to end, but Ukee is interrupted by the ghost of Betsy Ross yelling ‘she doesn’t even go here!’. Adam Joseph writes a think-piece on the whole situation.

Theater-loving fans everywhere scream out as Leslie Odom Jr. appears to be wearing Patriots colors while singing America the Beautiful despite the fact he’s from Philly. Betrayal is in the air.

You have an accident and cut your arm, when you realize to your horror that instead of blood, something green is oozing out of the wound. You scream, scream so much you start up a hacking cough, and are further terrified to find a green haze coming out of your mouth. Someone runs to your aid, and wordlessly, panicked, you show them your injury. They laugh and shrug, sounding relieved. “Oh, that’s nothing, your fine! You know we all bleed green around here!”

“What the fuck is Minnesota?” is a question you grow used to hearing. You aren’t even quite sure you know the answer yourself. It’s irrelevant, anyway, because we all know there’s not really a world outside of Philly.

Every report you see on the super bowl mentions ‘The Philadelphia Eagles’. Every article online, every late night show host, it’s all about the Philadelphia Eagles. You feel your breaths quicken pace, your heart pound, your palms sweat as you press them to your forehead, trying to contain your oncoming panic. Philadelphia Eagles? Philadelphia Eagles? What the fuck is the Philadelphia Eagles? You know only of the Philly Iggles. You were told your favorite team of the Philly Iggles were going to the super bowl. You choke back a sob. Had you bought all this merchandise for nothing, then? Why would someone lie to you like this?

Fireworks have been shot off in every part of the city for the past week, so much so that you can no longer hear properly anymore. You are irrationally ashamed of this, and try your best to keep it a secret. Every time someone tries to talk to you, you just respond ‘Go birds!’. It works flawlessly.

Your father has been barricading the house for three days now, a panicked, mad look in his eyes. You ask him what’s wrong. “This city is going to burn, baby! We have to stay safe!”. You remind him that no one knows who’s going to win the super bowl yet. He looks to you with a broken stare, tears running down his face. “It doesn’t matter, honey, it doesn’t matter- WE ARE ALL GOING TO BURN.”

You smile at the girl wearing an Eagles jersey on the bus, and ask her where in the city she’s from. “Oh, Willow Grove, but-”. Your stare grows cold and uncaring. That’s not Philly. That’s the suburbs. “It’s like, 20 minutes outside it though, it counts. I‘m in the city all the tim-”. You cut her off. She doesn’t belong here. That jersey is not meant for her to wear. “But we’re all really excited for the Eagles in the suburbs, too! It’s all we-”. She falls silent at your glare. The rest of the bus has tuned into the conversation and turn to her with matching looks. She does not deserve that jersey.

Pope Francis glances at his small tv blasting the CBS3 News cast, and sighs wistfully into his bite of cheesesteak. “They used to talk about me nonstop,”. His aids acknowledge his mood. His Holiness sighs again, “If only they knew….that I put in that good word for them. That I made this happen.“ He sighed once more. This truly was a thankless job.

Philly Jesus can be found in a green robe, dancing with passerby near the LOVE statue and taking pictures. The cops can’t even bring themselves to arrest him this time, everyone is relishing in the good mood. The news breaks that the Eagles are in the lead. In celebration, Philly Jesus claps his hands and everyone’s drinks turn to wine. Holy shit, he’s actual Jesus. Unfortunately now the cops have to arrest him for distributing alcohol to minors and for carrying it open in public. This is somehow on brand for the city.

You light an alter in your dark room. On it sits a photo of the entire Eagles team, a box of Quaker Oats with William Penn smiling benevolently at you, a nude of Bradley Cooper, and a picture of Ben Franklin with double blunts in his mouth and gold chains around his neck. You make your promises, and then place your offerings of tastykakes and soft pretzels. Almost as if on cue, green fire works explode outside your window and you here the people in the next room scream ‘TOUCHDOWN!’. You smile. You knew your boys would never let you down.

Your mother is a bad luck charm. You know this, and she knows this, and she is somehow stronger than you in this moment. You are still fighting back tears as she hands you the blade. “It needs to be done. Make it quick, love.” You don’t dare open your eyes as you dispose of the bad luck. You will miss your mother, but the city needs this win more than you needed her.

A terrifying green fog has rolled in over the city, completely engulfing it, it would be near impossible to see through if not for all the fires popping up. No one even bothers to question it. We all know what it means. We all know how this night is going to end.

A lone, majestic, bald eagle will soar over the torn remains of the city one day. It will let out a broken caw, horrified at the sight, blaming itself for all this madness. A single tear will fall from it’s beautiful eyes, and land onto the fallen statue of William Penn. Upon impact, a light will flash through the ruins, and Wawa’s will spring back into the world, the magical tear of the eagle will return people to their sane minds, fixing what it can of the war torn city. Philadelphia will rise from the ashes because of this Eagle Tear. The cycle will begin again.

#philly #Philadelphia eagles #Philadelphia #super bowl #football #asks #molly mumbles

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thedeviljudges · 3 years ago

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I wanted to post the entire article because I feel like there’s some really good stuff in here. Some things are the exact from the Naver article that was posted awhile back, but his mindset on the show??? Incredible.

And the fact that he told the cast this: “I once said something like this when greeting the actors and staff during the overall reading of 'Devil Judge'. 'It doesn't have to be the best or it doesn't have to be perfect, so I hope we can do what only us can do,” is incredible. He just wanted it to be the best they could do without pressure, and I love that.

"A world that doesn't need dark heroes" 'Devil Judge' revealed by writer Yoo-seok Moon [Interview]

[Sports Today Reporter Kim Na-yeon] Writer Moon Yoo-seok revealed everything about the drama 'Devil Judge'. The tvN drama 'Demon Judge' (played by Moon Yoo-seok, directed by Choi Jeong-gyu), which ended on the 22nd of last month, is a drama that throws a message about justice through a live court show in which the entire nation participates in a fictional dystopian Republic of Korea. This is the second drama work by writer Yoo-seok Moon. Writer Yoo-seok Moon, a former judge, announced that he would write without practicing a lawyer when he retired from the Seoul Central District Court in January last year. After his novel 'Miss Hammurabi' was made into a drama in 2018, it is the second drama in about three years. This is the first work he has presented since he came down from the position of a judge. Writer Yoo-seok Moon said, "I was scared to see the world change in an instant due to the corona crisis," and "If this trend that is taking place around the world continues, 'in the future' What kind of world will it be?' I decided to try a kind of thought experiment like a dystopian movie in the near future." Regarding the world of 'Demon Judge', he said, "The nightmare has already reached its peak, and it is a virtual dystopia that has lost even the power to solve problems through healthy solidarity of citizens. It's a very scary and sad world. It's not too late yet, so I wanted to talk about not creating such a world." From 'Miss Hammurabi' to 'Demon Judge', Moon Yoo-seok's own courtroom dramas have become a genre. Regarding the direction of his next work, he said, "I want to write stories of various genres that I love, such as comics, human, thriller, science fiction, and animation, in addition to legal ones." ◆ Below is a Q&A with Writer Moon Yoo-seok ▲ I wonder how you feel about the end of 'Devil Judge'. And I would like to say something you would like to say to the viewers who have given us a lot of love. It's sad that I can no longer see the performances of these great actors every weekend. I was watching in viewer mode. At first, it was conceived as a 20-episode, but if that was possible, I thought that I would have been able to discuss the story more carefully and see more of the actors' performances. Thank you very much to the viewers who supported and joined us. ▲ I'm curious as to the reason for creating a fictional dystopian Republic of Korea. I felt terrified to see the world change in an instant due to the corona crisis. In Spain, where nursing home workers run away and neglected seniors die in mass deaths, economic collapses around the world are exploding, and superpower presidents treat medical experts' recommendations as fake news, and supporters go crazy. and raided the Houses of Parliament. I thought about what the world would be like in the future if this global trend continues, and I decided to do a kind of thought experiment like a near-future dystopian movie like 'Black Mirror' or 'V for Vendetta'.

In such a world, extremist forces are bound to arise that seek to resolve dissatisfaction with reality through hatred and exclusivism. During the 10th part of the Jukchang Trial, there is a scene in which the Jukchang Manifesto is read, and the first sentence is “One person who has faith is equal to the power of a million people who pursue only profit”. This was taken from a tweet left by the far-right terrorist Breivik, who took the lives of as many as 77 innocent people in Norway in 2011. As a result of dissolving the worrying phenomena that are taking place all over the world in this way, overseas viewers are showing positive reactions that they are talking about their own country. As the world's interest in Korean content is high, I think creators should expand their interest in global topics that people around the world can relate to. ▲ I'm curious about the background that created the character Kang Hae, a judge who punishes evil with evil. What was the message you wanted to convey as a result? Mania for Dark Heroes is the rage of citizens at a system that doesn't work properly. The problem is that when that anger begins to run rampant, the media and political power amplify it and abuse it, it becomes a society dominated by violence, extremism and hate. The world of 'Demon Judge' is a hypothetical dystopia where the nightmare has already reached its peak, and even the power to solve problems through healthy solidarity of citizens has disappeared. It is a very scary and sad world in a world where there is no alternative other than the forced prescription of extreme drugs.

It's not too late yet, so I wanted to talk about not creating such a world. Citizens do not want those in responsible positions such as politics, justice, and the media to become dark heroes. They just want to do their job quietly and make a world that doesn't need Dark Heroes. Most of those who mistakenly believe that they are forced are actually just vain.

If you think about it, is it really a trial for Joo Han's final trial? In fact, it was nothing more than a live broadcast of the bombing. It is not a legal trial process, and the evidence presented is only a video, but it is not impossible to manipulate. As viewers, we know that it is true from an omniscient point of view, but in the fictional dystopian Republic of Korea? After watching the brief exposure video, the overwhelming majority expressed their consent to the bombing without a due process trial. What if Heo Jung-se tried to punish John’s sympathizers by plausibly manipulating the opposite video with deepfake technology?

The strange thing is that the citizens in the drama are hesitant about the execution of the electric chair in the 14th part because they feel uncomfortable, but they freely agreed with the 16th part bombing. It's just the difference in directness and blatantness between the act of pressing and the immediate pain of the other person, but the essence is the same. As the research results of modern psychology show variously, we humans are surprisingly easy to be guided in a certain direction. That is why we need a system called the rule of law.

In the drama, the villains are executed and the new elites who take their place also show behaviors not that different from before. In the end, it will be slow, but true change will come only when the system is completely changed through the efforts of many people. I think Gaon's monologue, 'What should I do to create a world that doesn't need John', is the true ending of this story. ▲ There were many characters who seemed to have reversed the generally thought of gender roles in the play. Is there any special reason? When creating characters, I completely ignored gender. I don't know if gender has a big meaning except in certain contexts, such as the sexual violence that Jeong Seon-ah suffered from Seo Jeong-hak. Cha Kyung-hee is just an ambitious and powerful person, and Yoon Soo-hyun is just a detective who wants to protect her first love. Both are familiar characters that appear a lot as men in Korean dramas. Conversely, the role of Ga-on Kim is often given to female characters. Characters locked in conventional gender roles are obvious and uninteresting, but I think the bias that all women should be subjective and men can be flat is also contrived. All humans are individual. ▲ While writing 'Devil Judge', if there is a scene where you put a lot of effort or worry, what kind of scene would it be? First of all, it is the death scene of Suhyeon at the end of part 13. John has Isaac, and Gaon has Suhyeon. They are the only beings who gave unconditional love and never let go of life. In the first draft of the script, there was a scene where Isaac tried to take his own life for John. It was because he thought that his father would not abuse John when he was gone. While thinking about how to express such unconditional love, even religious, I wrote a scene where Suhyeon, who was getting shot and died, looked at Gaon's scar on her forehead and said, "Are you okay? It's bleeding." From this tragic death to the end of part 15, when it is revealed that everything was a cruel big picture of Jeong Seon-ah, the play runs towards catastrophe. Like a Greek tragedy, where a cruel fate is met by the incomprehensible whims of the gods. It's not a very prominent scene, but I also remember the scene in the beginning of part 12 where K, who helps John like a shadow, confesses his feelings to Gaon for the first time and tells him that if he stays with him, he will eventually lose everything. Actually, I wrote this scene while thinking about the movie 'Let Me In'. When writing that scene, the image of a middle-aged man who lives with Eli Eli, a lonely vampire, and meets a tragic end, and Oscar, a boy who bears the same fate, comes to mind. ▲ Ji Sung, Kim Min-jung, Jinyoung, Park Gyu-young, Jang Young-nam, Nae-sang, Kim Jae-kyung, Baek Hyun-jin, etc. What if you complimented the actors for their acting? Really, all the actors gave brilliant performances. In fact, 'Demon Judge' is a chaotic story full of heterogeneous elements. In an exaggerated dystopian setting like a cartoon, the narrative of a classic tragedy, theatrical written dialogue, and intentional discomfort and discomfort. It was because I trusted the actors that I was able to put in and push these elements that I like to an excess. Without Ji Sung and Kim Min-jung, who could have saved the unique characters of Kang Ha-han and Jeong Seon-ah? Jinyoung and Park Kyu-young, who brilliantly played a difficult role suffering from a harsh fate, Jang Young-nam, Nae-sang Nae-sang, and Baek Hyun-jin, who played crazy characters by playing villains with different personalities, and Kim Jae-kyung, who played a simple but sympathetic character. , and the excellent performances of all the actors, including the minor actors, filled the strangeness and insufficiency of the script. Thank you very much. ▲ I am curious about the interpretation of the meaning of the ending of 'Devil Judge' drawn by Moon Yoo-seok. Kang Kang escaped from the Supreme Court through the escape route prepared in advance and went to Switzerland with Elijah, and he boldly appeared at the Judicial Reform Public Hearing Hall to see if Gaon was doing well. It's not the end of Gaon's fantasy, but there are viewers who misunderstand that. I would like to take this opportunity to tell you, but John is doing well with Elijah, and we will see him again soon with Gaon. The world doesn't change that easily. ▲ 'Devil Judge' received favorable reviews for opening a new horizon in court dramas. I wonder what kind of drama you would like 'Devil Judge' to remain for viewers as well as the reason for the favorable reviews you thought. The reason for the favorable reception is, of course, the amazing performances of the actors including Ji Sung and Kim Min-jung, and the excellent directing by Choi Jeong-gyu. Cinematographer Pyo Sang-woo's visual beauty and music director Jeong Se-rin's elegant music are also not to be missed. I think that the strangeness and lack of the script were filled abundantly with the talent and effort of these people. I once said something like this when greeting the actors and staff during the overall reading of 'Devil Judge'. 'It doesn't have to be the best or it doesn't have to be perfect, so I hope we can do what only us can do.' I can't wish for anything more if it remained as such a drama for the viewers. ▲ Did you monitor the audience's reaction, and if there was a comment that you remember the most, please tell me. I mainly monitored overseas reactions, and it was interesting because there were a lot of reactions from people from different countries claiming that they were talking about their own country, and I was once again afraid of what direction the world is going in now. ▲ It seems that the courtroom drama of writer Moon Yoo-seok, who is a former judge, has become a genre. I am also curious about the direction of the next work. Before being a creator, I am a consumer who loves all kinds of cultural contents, and I want to write stories of various genres that I love, such as comics, human, thriller, sci-fi, and animation, in addition to court articles. I wrote a dark genre this time, so next time I think it would be good to write a bright, easy and optimistic story.

Ga-On is not alone 😭😭🥺 Writer-nim we need season 2

source

#x #the devil judge #the devil judge meta

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blackjackkent · 10 months ago

Note

How about "Peace" or "Bite" with Aria and Morgana? I have missed them. 🥰

(Send me a pairing and a prompt)

Send me a "Peace" and I'll write a drabble about them spending a quiet moment together.

(Morgana is @morganaseren's OC who we shipped with Aria T'Loak in our adventures in the Mass Effect RP sphere. :) Fundamentally this serves as a bit of a sequel to this drabble.)

-----

Even at low watch, Afterlife is never quiet. The station never truly sleeps, and the low bass thud of the music is like its heartbeat. But it is emptier; the only clientele still sucking down drinks at the bar or leering at the dancers are the true dregs, the underbelly's underbelly.

Aria stands on her balcony looking out over the debauchery; her expression is unreadable. "She was hurt?"

"Cracked ribs. And ancillary electrical burns," Garka says with a slight shrug. "Target had traps laid around their base of operations. Seren wasn't fooled by them, but the hacker triggered them off manually when he realized he wasn't getting away. Fried himself completely, based on the report."

Aria turns her head just slightly to look at him. Garka has served her long enough that he doesn't flinch from her gaze so easily, but even when not directed at him, the fury in her eyes stings like a slap.

"Good," she says coldly.

He feels the sudden, highly inappropriate urge to smile. To do so would be death or something close to it, and yet -- they have all noticed the way Aria's fierce possessiveness has extended to apply to Seren as well since their relationship became a settled thing. This poor bastard who made the mistake of harming Seren made the right choice by immolating himself rather than letting Aria get her hands on him.

"She's getting treated down in the ACC. Should I tell her you're--"

Aria is already gone, moving at a fast trot down the stairs.

-----

"She's sleeping. She can't talk right now," the doctor - a nervous-looking asari with a sharp scar across one cheek - tells Aria uneasily as the matriarch enters the auxiliary control center. No one on Omega likes telling Aria that she can't do something.

But Aria doesn't explode at her, just lifts one painted eyebrow dismissively. "I'm aware. Now move."

The doctor swallows. "She needs time to recover before she can take new orders. Or talk too much."

"I'm aware," Aria says, and there's the slightest hint of menace in the tone now. "Now move."

The doctor's eyes flicker around the room rapidly to avoid fixing on the queen's face. "It would be better if--"

"Doctor," Aria says with exaggerated patience heavy with irritation. "I am not here with another job for her. I am not here to interrupt her rest. I am not here to fuck her, which I can only assume is what you are concerned about. But please believe me when I say that if you continue keeping me from seeing her, you will be a smear on the bulkheads in precisely one minute."

The deep blue of the doctor's skin pales markedly. "Right. Yes. Of course," she stammers hastily. "Uh. Go right on in."

The room where Morgana lies is dark but for the pale glow of some nearby diagnostic equipment, and quiet but for the omnipresent hum of the environmental systems. Aria stops briefly in the doorway, and listens for a moment to that peaceful half-silence, a far cry from Afterlife's heartbeat thump, and watches the dim outline of Seren's chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

In spite of the doctor's concerns, Aria actually doesn't intend to wake her - but Seren seems to register her presence anyway, and stirs, her eyes flickering half-open.

"Hello," she murmurs.

"Careful," Aria says dryly. "The doctor outside seemed to think my talking to you might kill you."

"...worthy death," Seren mumbles with a slight smile.

Aria's lips twitch. She crosses the room to sit down slowly on a chair at Seren's bedside. "Broken ribs, hm? What happened?"

Seren's lips purse in a tight frown and her pale grey eyes close again. "He had two varren with him. They were a distraction. But only a temporary one. And he won't infringe on your territory again."

"I expected nothing less," Aria says, and her tone is uncharacteristically soft. Here in the privacy of darkness, with no eyes on them, she can allow herself the luxury of visible concern for her lover, gratitude for her safe return. With equally atypical gentleness, she reaches out and runs her fingertips along Seren's hairline, brushing a lock of dark hair off her face. With the contact, the empathic bond between them hums to life, communicating all the emotion she still doesn't know how to voice in words. "You did well. And now you rest."

#my writing #drabble #morganaseren #otp: elemental discord #i hope you like it friend!#writing someone else's OC is always a lot of 'what if i mess up' XD

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themrmalice · 4 years ago

Text

Station Lamia Prime

By Malice

Narrated on YouTube by The Disciple: https://youtu.be/dju620v-WAE

youtube

We approached the floating structure, a ring with a large pillar mounted in the center. From it a cacophony of electromagnetic waves erupted through the cosmos, assaulting our ship with near unstoppable strength. Our shields were strong enough to repel most advances, but the waves consistently tore through some sections, deadening rooms for minutes at a time. Death tone plates shimmered in the blue light with a magenta pigment carefully dotting the lower half of most plates.

I'm a Derelict, ordered by the cosmological council to investigate this station, Lamia Prime. They mentioned peculiar anomalies that had been previously undocumented were a constant force in this place. Between visionary hallucinations to memetic distortion, this place covered all of the enigmatic anomalies recorded by the council with varying levels of detail. As a Derelict, I was only sent in to investigate and record any findings. A crew of 25 men and women on a small shuttle are to monitor my neurological behaviour, as that is the most prevalent report when passing through this area.

This lone station was a place of vast technological advancement, unrivalled in its prime! Now, it is a ghost of what it once was. There were no signs of external damage, no signs of technological malfunction, no signs of panic or struggle aboard the station. Everyone just disappeared. Leaving only their clothes lying on the ground. Chilling, absolutely, more chilling however is that the reactor is still running without an operator. Unless they developed an autonomous reactor, which is nigh impossible, then this is the work of an anomaly.

The station was in range for the smaller pneumo pod to be shot towards it. There was no technology within the pod itself, only lead plating to protect the contents within from radiation. I climbed into its cockpit, before me was a window, through which I could see the grotesque station listing slowly in a dead orbit. The radio clicked on “You ready?” a female voice blared, “Yep!” I responded, almost excited to enter this stations recesses. The cabin around me, laced with woven cloth to protect the contents from kinetic force, began to expand. These were the “Punch Pillows”, so to speak, and they grew rapidly, surrounding my body in their grasp. Then came the “Punch" a massive plume of pneumatically sealed air exploded from behind the shuttle, and I propelled forward towards the station. Above me, circles of lights turned to lines and the station ahead grew into a vast, rotating mass. I was pulled into it, and I was about to slam into the side when an unknown force cushioned my assault. My window had strings of baby blue constantly crawling from bottom to top. “Don't worry,” the female voice spoke, “Its merely an Electron Field, it will pull you in shortly.” and just like that, it did. I was being guided gently into a small opening near the bottom of the pillar, where I was thrown into a room filled with meteorites and asteroids. Essentially the junk drawer of this station, where it preserves any meteors that come hurling its way towards the station.

The airlock spewed open, and the pressure kicked the door off its hinges, opening my deflating cabin to the meteor storage. I got out, searching immediately for a door to go through. Luckily, there was an illuminated door opposite the entrance. A bulkhead of sorts, clearly where the airlock was. I stammered over to it, carefully weaving through the meteors until I could embrace the handle on the door. To my surprise, it turned without hesitation. Indicating that it was recently used. As it opened I pulled out my Plasma Pistol, standard issue for all Derelict Personnel. Inside was a well lit, glossy surface with dotted dirt patterns all around. I slowly walked in and closed the door behind me, swiftly jolting back and forth as I checked the room for intruders. Nothing found. As the door slid into place, it automatically sealed and fresh oxygen was pumped into the room. I turned up my visor, allowing the oxygen to fill my lungs. I looked down and saw more dirt, once again dotted towards the door out. Cautiously I approached, the glassy texture of this place made the dots stand out to an extreme.

The door slashed open with both sides moving in perfect unison, something now alien to me entirely. Before me was a vast hallway that ran seemingly forever then wrapped around the sides. All I knew was that I was at the bottom of the pillar, and around me stood flat dead black monoliths of incredible size, silent from lack of use. Brushing past one caused its black face to ignite into bluish tones with a blaring sound cascading down the hallways and echoing back to me. The screaming reverberation startled me as it returned and split off into the other halls, disturbingly enough, I could hear other sounds it carried as it passed. The screen spoke an ancient dialect originating in primordial English. I could only make out “Lamia Prime” and “Welcome” from the degraded radio. Beyond it, I saw a large corridor which whipped to the right, interwoven into a hive of lost knowledge. I began my investigation, only to be interrupted by the perfect porcelain white halls having one dark brown interlocutor. More particles leading off from where I came from. Dust from the Meteorites, no doubt. I followed the breadcrumb trail, which traced the halls loosely. Whoever this was, they were disoriented.

Each step into this place was another step into madness, white walls, white floors, white fluorescent lights, with only the light baby blue interjections of screens followed by green and magenta iridescence radiating through the windows. The iridescent glow was hypnotic, perfectly even in its distribution. Wait, green? I thought the star was blue. Taking a slow and cautious step into a small room decorated with dispersed and erratic placement of lab tech, I gazed out the nearby window at the star, which was indeed blue. Looking back at its iridescence, I saw blue and magenta pigment. The magenta was the colour of the nebula, so that's consistent. Perhaps a part of the Anomaly. Down the corridor I heard gas spew as a door screamed open, I crouched and slowly walked towards the sound. All was silent in this moment, I approached, peering through the quartzite glass at a now opened door with a shimmering light exuding from it. My feet squealed on the floor as I motioned towards it, and as the first squeak from my foot echoed from beneath me, the door gently closed.

My radio clicked on, and again I could hear that female voice, “The whole station stood still for a good 5 minutes, what the hell is happening in there?”. Stood still? I thought, how the hell does an entire station of this size stand still then go right back to regular rotation? I clicked my radio, “I believe there is another being aboard this station, dirt tracks have alluded to it, preparing to investigate.” I realized that I hadn’t asked about the station, but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to do it. I opened my mouth and no words came out. Made me shudder. I moved towards the door, which automatically opened upon noticing my movement, I readied my pistol, and stood with my back against the frame. Snapping into place with my pistol aimed into the room, I swiftly strutted in. Nary a sound but the squeaks of my boots and the charge of plasma. The room had no alternative entrances or exits, nothing was there, not even a sign of life, no dirt on the ground, nothing. Everything was as it should be. Noticing this my heart began to pound. Maybe a malfunction? But Thus far I haven't seen the stations infrastructure malfunction even minorly.

The radio clicked again, “Warning, Incoming Magnetic Storm, prepare for Electronics and Machines to begin malfunctioning or turning off entirely.” My heart jumped again, the thought of more of these malfunctions happening was comforting but also terrifying. Almost immediately, the Magenta Hue began to offset the Turquoise, and the Iridescence faded as a massive nebula began to envelope the station. Now, all that shone through the window was Magenta, interrupted by streaks of reddish lightning. Magnetic Storms were no joke, they have blasted whole ships out of the stars. However, this one was different. It seemed almost targeted. The Lighting slashed through the hull of the outer ring, gargantuan pillars of light erupted from within the cloud and plasmatic fire skewered throughout it. It was collapsing! The Outer Ring no doubt acts as a Gyroscope for this damn station, I need to get the hell out of here before the Gravity starts to decay! I bolted down the hall, with the rooms behind me exploding into Magenta tones that roughly splattered against the wall, Panic shrouded me and I began to sprint blindly towards a staircase! I grabbed my radio, almost screaming “The storm is tearing through the station, I need evac NOW!” and almost immediately a calm response resonated from my earpiece, “What the fuck are you talking about Damien? The Storm is oncoming, it's not even here yet! We still have an ETA of 3 hours!” I stopped, no chaos encapsulated the halls behind me. Just silence. I jogged down the staircase I had ran up, and saw that the station was all intact. The radio clicked back “Are you alright? Your neuron activity is sparking right now, perhaps we should evac and get a mag helm for you.” She spoke in a very worried tone. With a shaking voice, I responded, “Yeah, get me out of here.” she responded, “Are you positive? You understand the danger of sticking around, right?” Confusion struck like a bat at the back of my head, “What the hell are you talking about Helen, get me out of here!” I shouted back. Audibly frustrated, Helen spoke, “If you insist then fine, we still have 2 and a half hours till the Magnetic Storm is on us.” Before I could speak, my throat scratched and only a whine was let out. The fuck is going on here? I thought. Guess there's no helping it now. Got 2 and a half hours in hell. Much as I would like to get out of here I would need Helen to send a shuttle here. For some reason, she couldn't hear what I was saying, sounded like she was hearing something entirely different.

I press onward, the clicking and whirring of the space stations electronics began to grow louder. I looked at the iridescence again, the pale blue and magenta hue were even. The Nebulon Cloud that enveloped the station began to grow in size, indicating the Magnetic Storm. I eventually wormed my way through the facilities until I reached a room with a computer that spoke my Dialect. I opened the computer, finding that this station, Station Lamia Prime, was one of a number of stations. It mentioned another, in Belial's Trench, about 10,000 meters down, called Sub Station Lamia. Belial is another Anomalous Planet. Prime is where they all sent their data. Instead of pouring through 13 petabytes of data, I instead searched for a simple map. When i found a file containing Technology Mapping, Room Layout, and eventually a full map, I was worried. There were several recalculation maps, one which stated that floor 133 was above floor 142, and one where floor 133 was in the outer ring, where only floors 200-220 are. These recalculations happened once every week, and a recalc was scheduled in just a few minutes from now! But between all the Recalcs, I found that only 133 changed position, and was rarely in the same place twice. I checked for a room layout of Floor 133, and found that the rooms were under constant recalc too! I found eventually that Floor 133 was where the Reactor was held, which means I have to hunt this floor down to shut off this station.

The Recalc began, and would take an estimated 10 minutes to complete. I wish it would be instant like at Prometheus. This station is responsible for sending a few encrypted messages to Prometheus and a number of other Lifehold stations. But the encryption doesn't make sense whatsoever! Its a basic encryption that a preschooler could solve, but the message is still taking the galaxies best scientists to decipher. The messages are sent to each of the 5 Lifehold stations, sometimes voice codes, sometimes text, and even sometimes Morse Code, a dead format from centuries ago! Thus far they have only determined that it is a 12 word statement, split up into 2 sentences, sent in 5 separate messages. They have only determined where 2 words go, and that is “Send” and “Assimilating” and their placement in the statement. They have deciphered that Send is the first word of the first sentence, and that Assimilating is the sixth word of the second sentence. They sent 3 units of derelicts to Help, with only 2 returning in full health. This station has baffled everyone involved, due to its impossibility of investigation.

The screen beeped, saying that the recalc was done, and that Floor 133 was 3 floors above me. I checked the Layout and the Reactor was on the left, 5 doors down. I practically leaped out of the chair, crouching down, and gliding through the corridor to the staircase. When i reached the staircase, I made careful note of the floor I was on, floor 062. I sprinted up the stairs, the next floor was 063, 064, and 06...2? I checked the floor above me and it was, 063. Wait, what? Hold on now, maybe floor 133 disguises itself as the floor you were just on. Doesn’t explain the next floors repeating though. I opened the door to floor 062, 5 doors down on the left and I was in a Lab Room. I went back to the staircase and began ascending till I was back at floor 062, where i entered again and jogged 5 doors down to the left. Again, the Lab Room! This time, I grabbed a small glass bottle on my way out. Back at the staircase, I placed the bottle on the floor before entering the staircase. I jogged up the stairs, 063, 064, 062 again! I opened the door and sure enough, there it was! The damned bottle! Okay! I thought Lets try going down. I began to descend, going down to... 063. Now I was getting frustrated. I don't have time to play games! I walked over to the edge of the staircase and peered up. An endless flight was above me, same below. I opened the door to 062, grabbed the bottle that happily waited for me, and closed the door. This time, i sat the bottle on the railing next to 062. Keeping an eye on it as I jogged up to 063, 064, and when i reached what was supposed to be 133, the bottle remained where it was. I looked at the sign on the door, and it said, 062. Turning around I saw the bottle standing there. Frustrated I took the bottle and slammed it against the wall, where it shattered, bouncing off an invisible force. I was shocked! I looked at the wall I had thrown it against and placed my hand on it, a pale blue luminance echoed from where my hand had met the wall. I grew curious and began to apply pressure, only to see the sign next to the door begin to distort. It now said 074, and when I tore my hand away it said 062. So that means I ascended 12 floors! I started counting during my descent, passing shards of broken glass 9 times, I eventually reached a point where I was 3 floors above where I began. I pressed against the wall and sure enough, it said 133. The real sign was slightly above where it should be and was ascending. I opened the door to be met with the same corridor as 062. Perhaps I have to distort the energy causing this visual fluctuation?

I clicked my radio, “Hey, can you fire a high energy EMP at the lower half of the central pillar? There's some energetic force blocking my progress.” Immediately it clicked back, “Are you sure your okay?” Helen said, her tone was off. “Im fine, why do you ask?” Helen spoke back, “I'm serious, you need to evac, alright? You have an hour and a half until the Magnetic Storm hits, and you don't want to be on board when it does.” I realized that the Anomaly is still messing with my comms. So that's not an option. Then, another idea struck me! I pulled out my pistol and set it to stun, maybe the energy blast from it will be strong enough to distort the field! I pointed it right at the door and began charging. Just before I released I heard a shout, “Don't shoot!” It sounded like it was right next to me! I jolted and released the trigger, it struck the field, a streak of blue tore through the hexagonal field that had encapsulated the entire staircase. Floor 133, finally! But the door was halfway through the ceiling. I couldn't see the button to open it, so I was going to have to go to the next floor. I tried my comms again, “Helen, I just distorted a sort of field, in the stairwell, and I'm about to enter the floor that has the Reactor on it.” I waited a minute, no response. “Hello? Helen, you there?” Again, no response. I turned and was about to jog up the stairs when my foot touched something soft. I looked down to see colourful clothing lying on the ground. My heart sunk when I noticed a scorch mark on the right shoulder. Looking around, there were dozens of clothing sets laid out, shirt above, pants below, like ghosts. What the fuck? I thought.

I slowly walked up the stairs, passing by the shirts of varying colour. None of the others had a mark on the shoulder. Nothing made sense to me right now. When I made it to the next floor, I saw floor 133 was still slowly gliding through the wall, but I could at least access it. I had to kneel to press the button. And when it opened a headache slammed into the back of my skull, like a train it struck again and again. A migraine. Whatever the Anomaly is, I found it. When I hopped into the floor, an icy chill ran up my spine, causing me to reflexively contort. My arms pulled to my chest, and my eyes fixated ahead of me without moving. Now, terror filled my lungs, as I stumbled towards a large observation deck. Before me were shattered fragments of a previous planet, still intact to some capacity. The Nebulon Cloud was far smaller now, and the Iridescence on the ground was a dark blue complimented by a dead Magenta. Now the blue was overpowering the Magenta. This terror was only furthered when I turned around. Hundreds of clothes were scattered to and fro, with the shirts all pointed in the same direction. Towards the 5th door on the left side of the entrance. I walked over silently, I had the innate sense I was being stared at. My pistol drawn, I pointed it towards the door. Now, the clothing seemed to disperse around my feet, clearing a path as I walked. Parting the sea of clothes, I made my way to an inactive generator. I placed my hand on a terminal, and looked at the readings. I couldn’t make out the dialect, but the layout of the readings were familiar, luckily. The Reactors Energy output was above 60% with a 10% usage. I was confused by this, as a Lifehold Station normally has an 80% usage with a 90% output. But the numbers were fading. I looked forward to see a lever, the obvious on/off switch. I moved towards it, only to feel something brush against my arm. I jumped forward and glared back to see all the clothing was now floating, shirts above, pants below, neither were filled with anything! Flat clothing that walked towards me slowly, in unison! I grabbed the lever and they all halted, as if scared to see what would happen if I were to turn the Reactor off. One motioned and I immediately pulled the lever.

As swiftly as the clunk of the energy output shutting off sounded,the entire room went dark, the clothing fell, and the room was filled with the Magenta Hue followed by Red Crackles! And only in those flashes of red did I see black smoky bodies, humanoid, standing where the clothing did! I screamed, fired at one of them, they did not respond, none of the smoky bodies were moving! Despite this, and despite me seeing the bolt of blue slash into the wall, I saw a burn mark form on the shoulder of one of the articles of clothing. I sprinted wildly past all of them, feeling nothing as I ran right through some! Panic filled me again, and the cloud of the Magnetic Storm began tearing away at the room I was in, I opened the door and slid out just as a flash of Red revealed that the smoky figures were all standing around me with arms extended. I slammed into the ground, the smooth white tiles were comforting to me. I clicked on my radio, “Helen, can you hear me!?” I yelled, no response yet again, I ran down 4 flights of stairs, ran into floor 062, which now had clothing in the corridors! Disarray filled the corridor, I heard a loud crash at one end of the hall. The Magnetic Storm was upon us, I saw the cloud ripping at the outer ring. I ran towards the Meteorite Store, only to be halted by a figure holding the same pistol that I use, with it charging and pointed at me. Another Derelict, but, how? Nobody else was sent in! I drew my pistol and pointed it back, mine was still set on stun, but theirs was shrouded in purple. Not a word between us, the figure was feminine, and tears streamed down her face, she screamed at me “Are you one of them!?” I calmly spoke back, “One of who? My name is Damien, who are you?” She shook as I spoke, and not a word was spoken from her lips, but she did peer out the window. With a dead expression, she took the pistol and pointed it to her temple. I quickly shouted “Woah! Wait!” But by the time my words left my mouth, a blast of purple clouds and scarlet streaks soared through her skull, annihilating her head. I looked out the window and saw a flash of red sheer towards my corridor, and I braced for the impact.

A flash of white, I blinked, and I was on the floor, in 062. My nose and ears were bleeding extremely, I groaned and rose to my feet. The first sound I heard was over the radio, “Damien, are you there?! Damien!” I clicked my radio, “Yeah, I’m fine, glad to hear from you. Whats the ETA on the Magnetic Storm?” Helen, who was clearly confused, said “Are you kidding me? The station was torn apart when we left! We tried to wait for you but we took a Mag Blast right to our bow! We left, its been 2 days Damien!” I couldn’t comprehend what she meant, Two days? I clicked back “What are you talking about Helen? How long have I been out?” A moment of silence, then the click “Damien what the fuck is going on!? Been out, you went totally dark! It happened like 30 minutes after you left! How long have you been in there, how long do you think you’ve been in there?!” “To me its only been about 2 hours, Helen! I dont know whats happening, all I know is what I saw!” Helen quickly responded, panic in her voice, “You need to get off that station Damien, I already ordered for its kinetic destruction! They are going to be blasting it in a few days, getting rid of it altogether!” Before I could respond she spoke, “we have 30 minutes to get you out of there, there's another Storm coming in. Are you ready?” I groaned again, “Yeah, yeah I'm ready. I'll head to the Meteor Store.” I began to stumble haphazardly through the halls. When I reached the junction to the Meteor Store, I was about to turn when I noticed that the Dirt Trail lead right to where I woke up. I followed the trail back to find that it lead in different directions. I began that way, figuring I had enough time to quickly find where it went and head back. Stumbling slowly through the hallways, I looked at my watch, which indicated that I had about 15 minutes before the arrival of the storm. 15 minutes? It's only been like 5! I clicked on my radio, “Helen, how long has it been since you contacted me recently?” Helen responded, “It's been only like 10 minutes, Damien. Are you near the meteorite store?” I snapped awake in panic, “Ten minutes!? Helen, my watch says 15 and to me it's only been 5! What the fuck is happening here I feel like I'm losing my mind!” She took a moment to respond, then said “I don't know Damien. When we left the Station was torn to shreds. We would have stayed away if there wasn't another message sent to Prometheus the day after. Another encryption, from this station.” My head swam, the migraine from before returned, “Helen the shit I’ve seen here is nothing like you would imagine! I'm getting out of here.” Filled with determination, I began to careen towards the Meteor Store. I entered the Airlock to be met with a click from the radio again, “Damien you need to get out of there,we can't wait forever!” I snapped back, “Helen whats going on?!” Full realization that I was not perceiving this as she was. No response, but I understood her panic when the airlock doors opened, and I saw the Storm tearing through the ships force field. I screamed into my microphone, “Helen its not real, I’ve seen like 5 of these hit, its not real!” She screamed back “Its fucking real enough! Our goddamn reactor is dead we are using a backup generator, we are getting out of here!” I saw the ship warp out. I closed the airlock door, waiting for the hit. But once again, none came.

Exacerbated, I stood up after waiting 20 minutes, and opened the door back into the station. Where I was met with a bustling corridor filled with smoky people moving in flashes, and only in between each flash did I see clothing. Some stopped and glared at me, and I warily walked through them to the opposite side. Doors opening and closing on their own, parting clothing seas, and smoky figures in between red flashes. I saw the Iridescence, it was flashing between being primarily magenta and primarily blue. I slowly walked through the hall, my shoulders hunched at my sides. Between each flash I admired the colourful array of clothing on the ground, and during each flash I watched as the smoky figures walked right by me. I made it to an observation deck, where I sat down and tried to collect myself. Crimson dotted the ground beneath me, my nose and ears were still bleeding. I heard a voice, “Um, sir, who are you?” I turned around to see clothing on the ground. I got up and faced them, a flash occured and I spoke to the smoky figure, “My name is Damien.” No response. I sat back down when the next flash happened and the smoky figure was no longer there. Eventually, a longer flash of white occured and shrouded my vision for what seemed like an eternity. When it all came to, all I saw outside was a magenta cloud with streaks of red slashing through. Behind me though, was an endless gauntlet of sprinting clothing and smoky figures, complimented by red lights and blaring sirens. The flash happened again, and I saw the Magenta Cloud emitting from the planet, spewing from it. Then, another long flash, and Everything was white again, silent and calm. The nebulon Cloud was rested around the station again. I clicked my radio, “Anyone there?” I said in a tired tone. No response. I looked ahead, and saw a dot of brimming white growing in size. Initially I thought it was a distant supernova, then I thought about it. If this is back to where I started, then this would be the future, right? Then, if its the future, that's not a distant supernova, that's the intergalactic Railgun!

I jumped to my feet and ran down the hall, towards the meteor store. Before I could turn, I saw the same feminine figure from before standing where the hall is. She pointed her gun at me, and had tears streaming down her face, just like before. This time, however, I could make out smaller details. I recognized the face of this woman! It’s Helen! “Helen! Wait! Please!” she narrowed her eyes, and said something in a dead tongue, “Mor Flos Vale”. And before she shot, she crossed her arm over a badge on her shoulder, a red badge on her shoulder with a blue flower in the center, with the words, Flos Occidere. Then she fired, I ducked under the bolt and ran back towards the observation deck, the shot from the railgun was now in the Solar System, and would strike us in just a moment. Behind me, I saw a Magenta hue paint the corridor that Helen was in, she gazed out a window, tears streaming. She brought the gun to her head, and fired. Another storm. I looked back and watched as it swallowed the payload whole, pushing it off its course. Before the storm could hit, and without hesitation, I followed in Helen’s footsteps, I gazed out, shed a tear, and fired a plasma bolt into my temple.

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