#this to an extreme that’s like…..almost alienating to a degree because 99% of the time it’s about fanfic and that inherently means fandom

[gold-wolf-soldier13]

honestly genuinely think a lot of writers here on tumblr have lost the plot more than a little. like if your writing for external validation, ie begging for comments and reblogs or saying kudos/likes mean less, i really believe you need to take a step back and reexamine your relationship with your writing. of course we all love to hear how much someone likes our work- we’re human- but the incessant posting and polling about comments and how “no one comments anymore” is starting to give entitlement. you aren’t owed engagement. just because you’re choosing to put the your work out to the public sphere, whether it’s here on tumblr or ao3 or wattpad or literally anywhere, for free and explicitly for others entertainment doesn’t mean they- the strangers on the internet- owe you anything. they don’t owe you a like, a comment, a reblog, a favorite, a bookmark- they don’t have any obligation to you. if you’re posting and immediately concerned about engagement metrics you’re no better than any tiktok or instagram content creator.

[deadbiwrites]

99 Drunk Balloons

(For @nieladasdenani )

Okay, so look.

Kara’s not, like, a prude when it comes to alcohol. She’s down for sneaking a nip of Alex’s whiskey, if only to laugh at her sister’s indignant squawking when she spots Kara’s plunder. She’s cool to drink ridiculous, fruity nonsense with Nia, and to crack open a beer with Clark after choring (read: heckling him from the porch with Lois) on the farm. She’s especially fond of wine with Lena, the way her eyes get brighter and her laughs louder and her lips wine-stained and irresistible- not that Kara is really all that resistant to those lips, anyway…

So yeah, Kara’s no teetotaler. She can handle her alcohol, no problem.

Obviously.

Alien booze, however… she doesn’t have a ton of experience with that. She’s only ever really tried it the one time, and Mon-El had given her the strongest possible shot (like an asshole), and the resulting awful hangover had kinda soured her to the whole thing.

But Lucy is in town for the night, and she’s managed to smuggle not only herself and Vasquez but a bottle of alien booze out of the desert base, and she’s so proud of herself for it that Kara knows that the gig is up before it’s even cracked open.

 

Lena’s stuck at work, because… something. Kara didn’t- she was paying attention, okay? It’s just that none of the words sounded like real words. But the gist of it was that Lena’s not coming. Which is cool, she’s busy and important and she’s always trying so hard to be everywhere for everyone else that Kara doesn’t have it in her to be upset. Even when it’s, like, super lame.

Ha! Super lame!

“What was that, Kara?” Lucy asks with a devilish grin.

“Nothing. I’m just funny,” Kara informs her, taking another (less than) dainty sip of her drink.

“But are you funny on purpose?” Alex muses.

“Everything I do is on purpose,” Kara sniffs, promptly spilling her drink across the table. A bit fuzzy, but still clear enough to feel the weight of stifled giggles and knowing smirks, Kara rights her empty glass and nods. “See? I was finished with that.”

“Oh my god, she’s wasted,” Nia cackles, delighted.

“I am not!” Kara shouts, instantly shushed by her giggling friends. “I am soberly perfect.” Kara’s brow crinkles, and her head tips to the side. “Oh, wait, no…”

“Oh, honey,” Alex coos at her, pulling Kara snug against her side. Kara briefly considers shrugging her off, but being cuddled is like, her favorite thing in the world, so she decides to roll with it. “Where’s your wife?”

Kara huffs loudly. “She’s not my wife.”

“Not yet,” Lucy says. “What is it, three more weeks?”

“Four,” Kara corrects with what is definitely not her ‘dopey Lena smile’, shut up, Alex. “That’s why she’s stuck at work, I think. Doesn’t wanna worry about stuff before the wedding. Except for, like, the wedding. Hey, d’you think I could get her to do the Cupid Shuffle with me?”

“Only if it’s horizontal,” Lucy says seriously. Kara nods thoughtfully at this.

Alex snorts wine out her nose.

 

The night continues, the drinks keep flowing, and now they’re all laughing and no one seems to really know why, exactly, but they also can’t stop.

Kara’s butt is vibrating, currently, which is at least a small part of why she’s laughing, because it tickles and oh. Oh! It’s her phone! She fishes it out with no small degree of difficulty.

“Kara’s pants! How may I direct your call?” she chirps.

There’s a soft laugh in her ear. “Hey, love. Are you having fun?”

“Lena! We’re having the most fun of anyone! Alex spat wine everywhere, and Nia might be- yup, she’s asleep. Nia! But yes! Hi! Hello! How is your work going?”

Lena snorts. “It was fine, I’m done now, just about to get in the car and head home.”

“Yaaaaaaay!”

“Have you been drinking a little?”

“Nope! I’ve been drinking a lot,” Kara says with a grin.

“Do you want me to come pick you up on my way?”

Kara positively beams. “Heck yeah, please! Vasquez left, and Nia is asleep and Lucy said something about ‘paratrooping’ that made Alex all red and spit more wine…”

Another snort. “Alright, I’m on my way. You’re at Alex’s, right?”

“Yup! Oh hey! I didn’t tell you the best part!”

“What’s that?”

“I get to see you!”

There’s a huff of what Kara knows after several years to be fondness. Or exasperation. Really they’re one and the same, in her experience. “Oh, lord. You’re a flirty drunk, aren’t you?”

“I have no idea! Am I? And is it working, because I would not mind seeing a boob this evening. Would probably really make this night a ten out of ten, for me. Because boobs are great. ‘specially your  boobs. Like, wow.”

“Gross, Kara!” Alex yells, shoving Kara sideways so she flops off of her sister and onto the floor.

“Ow.” Kara turns on her best puppy eyes, though they’re wasted on the non-video call. “Alex hit me.”

“I’m sure she’s sorry.”

Kara hums suspiciously before whisper-shouting, “Are you sorry you hit me?”

“Nope!” Alex says, swatting her on the butt.

“She’s not sorry at all!” Kara gasps. “She hit my butt, and I did not like it! Why do you like that?”

There’s dead silence on all sides before Lucy rolls her head enough to give Alex a shit-eating grin. “You owe me $50.”

“My ears!” Alex wails, immediately grabbing the nearest bottle and upending it into her mouth in the quest for amnesia.

“Okay, so… that just happened. I’m gonna come up to get you, and then we’re gonna go home and I’m gonna not see your sister for a few days. Okay?”

“Okay! She’s mean, anyways.”

“Yes she is.”

***

Lena knew what she was walking into. She’s dealt with drunk people before- she’s been a drunk person, probably with far more regularity than is entirely healthy. She’s handled drunk girlfriends, even.

However.

Drunk Kara is another matter entirely.

 

“Baby!”

This is Lena’s only warning before her arms are fully of a warm, wiggly, very drunk Kryptonian. Lena manages to catch Kara and herself, barely, only stuttering half a step backward at the impact. “Hi there.”

Kara snuggles deeply into her embrace, pressing her face to Lena’s neck and breathing deeply. “Y’smell so nice. How d’you always smell nice?”

Lena coughs, fighting the good fight against the flush creeping up her neck. She ducks her head to the side, smiling sheepishly and giving the still-conscious occupants of the room a wave. “Hello.”

Lucy offers her a lazy half-wave and Alex glares while Nia snores away. “Hey hey, Luthor. Gonna take her home?”

“Well I’m not flyin’, that’s for sure,” Kara laughs, and Lena suppresses the urge to shudder as Kara’s hot breath puffs against her neck.

“Can’t have Supergirl knocking a jetliner out of the sky,” Lena says with a smile. “That’s a lot of paperwork for you.”

Lucy waves that away with a slow grin. “Nah, I’d just make Alex do it.”

Alex, without looking over or breaking the seal of her lips on the bottle, stretches her leg out, plants her foot firmly to Lucy’s side, and shoves hard, sending Lucy flying.

And with Kara now mouthing wetly at her neck and murmuring things in Kryptonian that she’s extremely glad only she can hear, Lena gives them a parting wave and starts to struggle her way down the hall with Kara’s weight heavy against her side.

“How are you so heavy?” she groans playfully, shifting a bit so Kara’s arm is thrown over her shoulder and hers is wrapped snugly around Kara's waist.

Kara pouts at her, the new position preventing her from being able to reach Lena’s neck with her mouth. “You saying I’m fat?”

“I don’t think anyone on Earth could call you fat. You are shockingly heavy for being as thin as you are, though. I wonder if your bone or muscle structure is denser than ours? Or if it’s a result of Earth’s gravity…”

Kara’s pout deepens. “Sounds like you’re calling me fat with science.”

Lena huffs at her affectionately. “Don’t be a brat. Did you have fun?”

Kara’s face lights up. “We had so much fun! We played games, and Nia learned why she shouldn’t play shot poker with Lucy and Alex, and it turns out that Lucy mixes really good drinks with the stuff I drink- d’you think she practiced? I bet she practiced. We should go ask!” Kara turns on her heel, only stopped when she feels Lena tug her backward by a belt loop. She tips her head back until she can see her upside-down girlfriend- nope! Wait! Fiancee! “No?”

“No. Not unless you want to learn what paratrooping is,” Lena chuckles.

Kara’s nose wrinkled. “I prob’ly don’t.”

“Probably not.”

“Can we get balloons? I just- I really think I need to get a balloon, y’know? You ever just really need to have a balloon?”

Lena grins. “I can’t say that I have, but sure. We can stop and get you a balloon.”

“You’re the best fiancée anywhere, ever. And I’d know, ‘cause like, I’ve been to other anywheres and other evers. And yeah, you definitely win the fiancée contest. By a mile. Because nobody else got their fiancée balloons.”

“Deeply impressed that you managed to say fiancée correctly three times when you can’t walk straight.”

“That’s ‘cause it’s fun to say! And fun to think! We’re almost married! That’s nuts! Who said we were allowed?”

Lena pops onto her tiptoes to plant a sound kiss to Kara’s flushed cheek. “We did, I think.”

“Oh, yeah, right. We’re so smart, for doing that. ‘Cause now you’re my fiancée. Which is fun to say. Know what else is fun to say? Balloon. Balloon, balloon, balloon. Y’ever do that thing, where you say a word so many times that it doesn’t even sound like a real word anymore?”

“Synergy. Margins. Quarterly…” Lena laughs as they finally, mercifully reach the elevator. “Pretty much any time I have a board meeting, at least one word sounds made up by the end.”

“That makes sense. Hey! I bet I can be a balloon!”

“What do you- Kara!”

Kara grins down at her, hovering a foot or so off the ground. “This is fun!”

“Kara, you can’t be a balloon right now, what if someone sees you?”

“They’ll think they’re drunk.”

“That only works when they are drunk. Right now the only drunk one is you.”

“’m not drunk, you’re just blurry,” Kara giggles. “Cute blurry.”

Lena hooks her finger through Kara’s belt loop again when she starts to float too high, relieved when it brings her closer. “Can you be a balloon closer to the ground?”

“I dunno, ‘m just a balloon, Lena, duh.”

Lena snorts, tugging her into the elevator when it arrives, resigned to her fate. “You’re a very talkative balloon.”

“Am I being a bad balloon? You gonna pop me?”

Lena raises an eyebrow. “Is this… supposed to be a euphemism?”

“What’s a euphonium?”

“Right, not a euphemism, got it.”

Kara blinks at her, eyes too-bright in that way they get sometimes when she’s overtired (or, apparently, drunk). “Am I annoying you?”

“No more so than usual,” Lena grins. At Kara’s crestfallen look, she pulls her close until she can wrap her in a proper hug. “You’re not being annoying, love, just funny. And I’m really happy that you had such a good time with your friends, especially since I feel so bad about bailing on you last minute. I’ll carry you home any day of the week, Kara Danvers, because I love you.”

“Even when I’m bein’ a balloon?”

“Nobody I’d rather have on the end of my string,” Lena confirms, thumb tracing over the braided metal band of Kara's betrothal bracelet.

Kara nods with a big, goofy smile, pressing a kiss to Lena’s mouth that tastes… not quite like anything Lena’s ever tasted before. Something sweet and sticky and not exactly unpleasant. “Awesome. Love you too. Can we still go get a balloon?”

Lena laughs loud and bright in the tiny, snail’s pace elevator. “We can get you a dozen balloons.”

 

(Kara remembers none of this the next morning, and emerges from their bedroom squinting and questioning the large bouquet of balloons emblazoned with messages ranging from 'It's a Boy!' to 'Get Well Soon!'.

Lena is only too delighted to remind her.)

[tardis-sapphics]

Ooh you said you were open to Thasmin prompts so may I suggest Thasmin + ice cream?

you guys seem to like your ice cream prompts don’t you

‘I can’t believe you got an ice cream van.’

The three of them are standing outside of Graham’s house, in various states of disbelief. Parked on the curb sits the Doctor’s new… acquisition, a monstrosity on the eyes, the gaudiest type of van to ever roam the streets of Britain.

‘I can,’ Yaz responds to Ryan’s open-mouthed utterance.

The Doctor, it seems, has bought an ice cream van that has intensified its own nature. Gone are the pretty pinks and the calm orange pastels of years before; this van boasts of at least seven different colours, all bold and bright and beautiful, splashed all over its exterior. On its front and rear twirl different cartoons, from iconic Looney Tunes characters to cartoon aliens that Yaz has never seen before in her life. She thinks she glimpsed a Scooby-Doo on the other side, too, but none of the rest of the gang. On the serving side of the van, the ubiquitous ‘Mr. Whippy’ logo takes up most of the room, a typeface copied on the front of the van. On the roof, two ginormous painted metal ice creams spin on an axis in tandem.

Yaz doesn’t even want to consider how obnoxiously loud the ice cream van’s jingle will be.

The Doctor has never looked prouder, of course. Her arms are wider than the sun as she shows off her newest hobby; her grin deep-set and all-encompassing. Her eyes crinkle with delight. She can barely contain herself.

It makes sense, Yaz thinks, that she would take this mission to the next level. Her exasperation is quickly dissipating: it’s easy to forgive the Doctor for her wild plans when they make her smile like that.

‘I…’ Graham stutters. ‘Doc, you’ve genuinely made me speechless. Proper speechless.’

‘Ey, and that don’t happen too much, does it?’ Ryan grins to Yaz.

‘It’s just…’ They wait, curious, as Graham tries in earnest to find the words appropriate for this moment. He constantly has to adjust his crossed arms, his eyebrows getting more and more furrowed. The Doctor has started lowering her arms by the time he reaches the right response. ‘H…How?’

Yaz shrugs. That’s fair.

The Doctor has endeavoured to inspect every inch of her new van, checking, no doubt, for any improvements she could make. ‘If you must know, I have a mate up in Leeds who sells them.’ She disappears behind the back of the van, though her voice still carries. ‘I say mate. I mean acquaintance.’ A pause. ‘I say acquaintance. I mean someone I met.’

Yaz hums. ‘You found it on the internet, didn’t you?’

The Doctor’s head pops up to the side, and she points a finger at Yaz. ‘But she were very lovely, I’ll have you know! She were dead pleased, said she don’t really get customers anymore. Unless, of course, they’re from—’

‘The United Federation of Ice-Cream Creators,’ the three humans echo in unison.

‘See; you’re learning!’ the Doctor crows, and appears only to disappear again, into the van to inspect its contents.

Buying an ice cream from the ice cream van in summer was a highlight of their repeated childhood memories, no matter which generation they belong to. Graham swears up and down that the vans haven’t changed much since he was young, though the ice cream van could park anywhere back then, unlike now with all these cars clogging up the streets. For Ryan, ice cream vans always indicated refreshment after playing out with his mates – he of all of them would appreciate the cool refreshment after all the hard work. Yaz’s prevailing memory is of her local ice cream van man: a walking Italian stereotype who refused to call any of the girls by a name other than Rebecca or Jessica. At several points throughout her childhood, Yaz was called both Rebecca and Jessica during one single purchase.

It’s with these memories in mind that they follow her into the van – not only because they tend to follow, but because, they, too, are curious. Stepping closer to peer inside feels like a betrayal of the childhood mystery, but they’re pulled to it regardless.

It simply looks off-white; functional, extremely claustrophobic, and a little underwhelming. But if the expression on her face is anything to go by, it’s the Doctor’s idea of paradise.

Yaz is the first to step inside. She’s the first to follow; she always has been. In the cramped line the space inside the van allows, Yaz becomes situated against the Doctor, pressed up close and comfy. It’s a happy coincidence that the Doctor’s arm has to reach over her shoulder to point at the whippy dispenser and the empty cardboard boxes waiting to be filled with 99 Flakes.

The Doctor choosing to rest her arm on Yaz’s shoulder afterwards is not such a coincidence. Ryan and Graham are taking the time to do their own preliminary investigations, passing comments to each other in the light tone they’ve both grown to depend on from one another. (This isn’t without difficulty, though. Graham is desperately trying to decode Ryan’s rhetorical question of whether screwball ice creams ‘deserve rights’.) Knowing the other two are distracted, Yaz takes the time to sink into the feeling of the Doctor around her, letting her head rest on the Doctor’s. She smells like honey, and engine oil, and peppermint. They breathe in together and revel in the feeling: the both of them free to display affection like this. Finally, finally.

It evolved slowly, intensifying, like taking a deep breath. First it was the handholding, electrifying when sparse and comforting when established; long looks and good-natured teasing were followed by hugs, and longer hugs, and holding on. Then came the peak, lungs filled with anticipation – clandestine kisses shared in the dark and in the quick moments. Settling into rhythms and understanding each other in ways they wouldn’t have otherwise.

Yaz knows what the Doctor’s lips taste like in the morning, and the exact way she likes her tea. She knows that the Doctor is ticklish on the insides of her elbows and the undersides of her feet. The Doctor has read and reread Yaz’s favourite childhood books, Philip Pullman’s His Dark Materials trilogy, just so she can match Yaz’s pace and fervour whenever it is somehow brought up in conversation. Almost every time the Doctor holds Yaz’s hand, and especially when they’re alone, she’ll make the effort to flip her hand over and kiss Yaz’s palm with a tenderness that makes the other woman tremble.

In other words, Yaz is absolutely head over heels for the Doctor. And she’s pretty sure it’s being reciprocated, too.

Not that they’ve really verbalised what this is. Hand holding and kissing and genuine comfort is one thing; giving the dynamic foundational support is another. It’s the question that’s kept her awake almost every night since, but Yaz doesn’t want to break this. The Doctor tends to be slow on social cues, and Yaz doesn’t want to rush her.

The Doctor might just not be into labels.

‘What d’you think?’ the Doctor murmurs.

Being pulled out of one’s deliberations gets no less jolting – it does, in fact, take Yaz by surprise to a higher degree thanks to the Doctor’s proximity. Her lips are close enough to Yaz’s ears that she’d hear the Doctor whisper even over the din of the van’s engine. It does wonders for a part of her she’s not at all prepared to dwell on in an ice cream van. It’s this reminder – that the Doctor’s talking about a flipping ice cream van – that brings her to her senses.

‘I think you’re an idiot,’ she replies, bring up a hand to hold the Doctor’s hand so leisurely draped over Yaz’s body. The Doctor’s hands are cool, reassuring, where her own burn hot. ‘What happens if we’re still monitoring the Federation for longer than a week? Won’t you have to take it back and lose your cover?’

The Doctor frowns, an expression that moulds her lips into what Yaz and Ryan fondly call a “scronch”. ‘Why would I be taking this back if I bought it?’

Yaz sighs.

‘Doctor, I swear to—’

Quite a lot of Yaz’s life sounds like something out of a conspiracy theorist’s overactive imagination. Thankfully, the Moon landing was not faked; and the world, she can confirm, is overwhelmingly round – but she can personally attest to aliens walking amongst humans on Earth. And more besides.

Sometimes it’s so crazy that she can’t quite believe it herself.

If you told her two years ago that the ice cream van industry was being targeted by an alien species determined to steal the original Mr. Whippy recipe from Earth and claim ownership of the delicacy throughout the known universe – she would’ve laughed you out of the room.

But, well, here she is. Trying to stop ice cream thieves.

Ryan and Graham were assigned the roles of faithful customers, parading the scorching streets of Sheffield in order to build a rapport with the city’s ice cream sellers. All those pound coins being spent (mostly Graham’s) have, eventually, paid off: they’ve compiled an effective list of who they believe to be local Federation colleagues, aliens the four of them should attempt to befriend in order to get inside information.

It’s up to the Doctor and Yaz, then, to sell the alibi – and plenty of ice creams in the meantime. While it’s the Doctor who mans the van first and foremost, Yaz joins her when police work isn’t demanding her attendance. The ice cream selling is much more preferable to patrolling the county in a roasting police uniform.

Summer 2019 has been swinging, temperature-wise, from the boring to the truly worrying. In a week where the weather has alternated between torrential rain and record-breaking heat, the two women have had a wildly varying record of success. Sometimes they’ve sat with the serving window up to see no passers-by in sight. Not that they would be able to glimpse them, anyway, behind the incessant raindrops splattering the serving window. Other times, they’ve had impatient queues consisting of the entire park they’ve visited: harassed and harangued parents struggling to keep their kids happy in the sweltering heat; groups of kids in vital need of sustenance after all their playing; older residents cashing in on the opportunity to indulge in nostalgia. Such is British weather.

The Doctor has taken to selling ice cream like a duck to water. She may not be socially tactful, but her enthusiasm around people more than makes up for it. She makes the process of making ‘Mr. Whippy’ ice creams into a show for the kids to enjoy. She juggles the ice lollies before presenting them to her amused customers, despite the little space the ice cream van provides. She can be heard whistling the ice cream van’s jingle, ‘Greensleeves’, even after her work for the day is done. There’s a knack to ice cream selling, Yaz believes, and the Doctor has it in spades.

Sometimes they even forget they’re meant to be keeping a lookout for the Federation. It’s so easy to slip into this routine, switching between serving the public as a police officer and serving the public their much-needed ice cream. Spending her time with the Doctor, floating around each other in the van guided more by the touch of fingertips on familiar clothes than by sight; it feels like something they could get settled into.

Apparently it shows.

They get looks, the Doctor and Yaz. Very specific looks. Yaz is not often in the back of the ice cream van whilst the Doctor is serving, but whenever she makes her way down, hands on the Doctor’s back as she moves, she’ll sometimes catch a glimpse of recognition from the customers. The ice cream van is a two-way mirror through which society can look at itself – the Doctor and Yaz get a feel for the surrounding community, and the customers, too, get a feel for them.

Sometimes they’re parents, surprised to see such tenderness between two women. (Sometimes their acknowledgement is one of distaste. Not always, but sometimes; Yaz does her best to stare back, to make them uncomfortable.) Sometimes, they are gay couples, and the look passed between them is one of solidarity more than anything else.

Sometimes they’re just curious kids, learning more and more about the world each day.

‘Are you two girlfriends?’

Wearing a football shirt drenched with sweat, the girl stands and waits patiently with her mother for a well-earned 99 Flake.

‘Idha!’ the mother scolds her.

Amongst the recognition of her own mini heart attack, Yaz estimates that the kid must be about 9, no older. There’s no sort of disdain coming from her. She’s just a curious little girl.

Still, that doesn’t make answering her question any easier. Honestly, Yaz was just in the back to pinch a 99 flake. That mission has backfired massively. Her heartbeat picks up.

She knows what she’d like to say. She knows that whatever answer is given now will determine the answer to that question for a while yet.

Yaz presumed the Doctor was too busy concentrating on perfecting the twirl of the ice cream to pay attention.

But the Doctor takes her by surprise. One perfect ice cream is presented, Flake squished in, with an equally made-up smile. As Yaz opens her mouth to speak – to say what, she doesn’t know – the Doctor jumps in.

‘Me and Yaz? We’re partners in crime, we are,’ she responds, with a wink. ‘Not literally. She’s a police officer, you know.’

Partners in crime. Right.

(She can’t help but notice the disappointment fizzling in her body.)

This seems to placate both child and mother long enough for the significance of the question to be forgotten. They pay for the treat – the girl utters a very polite, ‘Thank you, miss!’ – and leave.

Yaz is returning to the driver’s seat to eat her Flake in peace, but the Doctor catches her eye for just a second as they manoeuvre around the small space. The Doctor’s gaze is acquiescent; filled with a longing Yaz can’t quite place.

‘Was that—?’

The Doctor’s words are cut off by the thump of a small child managing to catapult themselves straight into the ice cream van.

 Alone time, when the great British public have not deigned the two women with their presence, is preferable for interests other than sugary cold treats. Especially when the clouds are dumping a month’s worth of rain in about three hours.

She’s been trying her hardest not to be distracted these past few days, but it’s easier said than done when it’s just been the two of them in this van. Their duty to the public comes first, of course, but in the midst of many an explicit look, Yaz has never been happier to forget her promise to serve the public their ice cream.

Besides, making out with the Doctor is so much more fun.

It’s a very middling Friday; after the ridiculous heat of Thursday, the temperatures have comparatively plummeted to around 21 degrees. The clouds overhead have sent kids running indoors, nervous about the deluge to come. A few brave souls have wandered on parched pavements, though; a couple of them have even wanted a cool treat.

Yaz’s shift doesn’t start until 7pm, so she’s free to assist the Doctor in her ice cream escapades for three more hours or so. On this slow day, she’s been the one doing the driving whilst the Doctor busies herself with stock-checking or fiddling with this strange handheld invention the Doctor has brought on board.

She can’t really understand it. There are at least three levers, and a winding gear. It has what Yaz can only conclude is a dog cone fixed hastily onto one of its ends. Whenever she has tried to ask what on Earth the entire contraption may be, the Doctor has been far too preoccupied to answer.

‘What are we even gonna do when we uncover the Federation ice cream sellers?’ she wonders. She has to make her voice loud over the sound of the engine, kept on even when they’re stationary in order to keep the ice creams cool. Getting out of the driver’s seat, she steps into the serving area to find the Doctor bent down, inspecting her rapidly depleted supply of strawberry syrup. The dog coned invention languishes at her feet, bleeping infrequently.

‘I dunno, really,’ is the Doctor’s reply, her voice stretched by her movement as she stands back up. Leaning with one hand on the van’s windowsill, she continues, ‘I’m definitely reporting them to the Shadow Proclamation, though. There are about 300 different laws on the issue of original content being stolen from species who haven’t developed enough to defend their planetary property – the Federation are breaking every single one of them.’

Coatless, with sleeves rolled back, she looks just a little more unkempt than usual, frazzled in the best way by a new hobby keeping her busy. She’s positively glowing – not from the regeneration energy, this time – and Yaz is a little more than attracted to the sight.

Yaz has to swallow it down. ‘But what about in the meantime? Surely the threat of the Shadow Proclamation won’t stop them from continuing their business right now?’

‘You’d think that, wouldn’t you?’ the Doctor muses. It’s hard, in a small space such as this, getting somewhere with so much energy, but Yaz can only describe her movement as floating – getting closer and closer to Yaz. ‘But no. The Redeto know just how little power they have in the universe. Stealing a soon-to-be popular recipe will pay off big time if successful, but the repercussions are huge. They know the stakes here.’ The Doctor shrugs. ‘Maybe if I promise I won’t rat them out.’

‘That’s if they give you an audience,’ Yaz points out. It’s a strong point, but it peters off into nothingness now the Doctor has moved so close. Their noses are almost touching. Yaz can see hazel green; wide pupils.

Her heartbeat is off the charts.

The Doctor doesn’t bother to attempt a corny line. There’s no need now she knows Yaz is unofficially, but totally, hers. Instead, her indication of intent comes in the form of nervous hands, swooping up to caress Yaz’s face. Everything is still new; with warm touch, Yaz’s skin is set on fire.

She is the one to push forward and press their lips together. It’s such a relief, every time, like breathing out after holding her breath for too long. They gasp for each other in between kisses and Yaz can feel it, that mutuality, that simplest of desires, to hold and be held. Her hands slip down the Doctor’s mustard suspenders, and she thanks her lucky stars that this feeling – this experience – is something she gets to indulge in. She’d be thankful for an only time. She’s lost count of how many times they’ve kissed now, and she grows every day in her gratitude.

She’s lost all sense of the outside world – just pressing herself further into the joy of it, the relief that comes with knowing the Doctor still wants to kiss. She’s quite forgotten that they’re stood at the serving area, kissing slow then fast, hard and tender, with open mouths and roaming hands.

She wishes she could do this all the time.

There comes a point where attention must be paid, however, to something else other than the Doctor. At a slow moment within the kiss, the Doctor stills and stalls in her previously successful endeavour of pushing her hands underneath Yaz’s jacket. Yaz immediately pulls away, regretting the absence of warm hands and confusion starting to crease her brow – until she hears it too.

Another engine. She tries to calm her heartbeat.

‘Is that…?’

‘Probably.’ The Doctor swallows, attempting to compose herself. ‘We’ve got company.’

Peeking through the serving area’s closed window, they can see an idling ice cream van. The décor is much duller than the Doctor’s – practical, toned down and perfect. It’s a perfectly respectable paint job for a perfectly respectable person – and that would be fine, of course, if it weren’t for the fact that the person in the van is very much not a person. Not a human person, anyway.

Yaz recognises the van right away – one of the people on the list. Ryan and Graham have known about this Redeto for a while, and they tasked Yaz and the Doctor to keep an eye on him. Apparently, they weren’t subtle. The stern, dangerous look on his face is indication enough. To his left, another person bends forward and makes himself known.

Two of them.

Knowing your cover might be blown is different to actually having your cover blown. Yaz keeps eye contact with the Doctor as their expressions slacken with dread. Was it their discussion? Was it Ryan and Graham? It doesn’t particularly matter.

The Redeto are not known for being considerate.

‘You alright to start driving the van?’ the Doctor asks politely, a light confidence in her voice that would be reassuring were it not for its total falsity.

Yaz gets to it. Their moment of being together is over, very over. With no small feeling of reluctance, she disentangles herself from the warmth of the Doctor’s body and makes her way to the driver’s seat, nearly tripping over the Doctor’s contraption as she does.

Almost three years of driving has prepared her enough for the small feat of piloting the ice cream van. Thereabouts, anyway. The van lurches into motion as soon as she eases her foot off the clutch and she grimaces, embarrassed. But they’re on their way.

The other ice cream van immediately follows.

Yaz swallows. They’re definitely within the realms of being chased now. This is new to her; she’s usually the one pursuing, checking for escape routes to block and ways to guide the target into stopping. On the flipside, the mounting pressure is starting to get to her.

She would not want to be in the shoes of a criminal, Yaz thinks. It’s bad enough being pursued by an ice cream van.

She takes a deep breath and presses down on the accelerator, hard. The van groans in response but reacts as best it can. It unsettles the Doctor’s balance in the back of the van.

‘Keep going, Yaz!’ she shouts, the bleeping from her invention almost a second rallying cry. ‘We can try to evade him!’

She’s on the flipside – but, Yaz realises, she can use that to her advantage. Her knowledge of Sheffield’s roads is bone-deep; better, she imagines, than an alien following the popular routes where customers would most likely be. She finds an opening and makes a sharp turn, the tyres screeching and the ice cream machines rattling raucously. Terraced houses whizz by; Yaz catches a glimpse of a mother in pyjamas putting out the bins; her eyes wide, her mouth open at the sight before – and then after – her.

This sort of scene would usually be accompanied by a dramatic film score; a heart-raising drumbeat, maybe a few electric guitars. Instead, the street is treated to the shriek of ‘Greensleeves’ as the ice cream van thunders past.

‘Yasmin Khan, you are my hero!’ the Doctor praises. ‘Nice job. Time to head for the TARDIS, don’t you th—’

‘Doctor, he’s back,’ Yaz interrupts, catching sight of him in her wing mirror. Just because she turned so quickly, it didn’t mean he couldn’t catch up. He must have found a shortcut too, she thinks. Damn. She switches gears to accommodate for the upcoming hill. A red light flashes into existence at the top of it, and a three-car-long queue has built up.

‘You’re kidding,’ she whispers. She has to stop. She is, after all, a law-abiding citizen – and a police officer. She’s the last person to defy a red light.

Waiting for the amber light gives the Federation ice cream van enough time to catch up. As they line up in adjacent lanes, the Redeto in the driver’s seat turns to look at Yaz. Yaz looks back, a disapproving frown planted very firmly on her face. And his smile widens into a smug. Weirdo, she thinks.

The green light returns, finally, and they are restricted by the cars in front for a little while. But, once more, as soon as Yaz sees an opening away from the queue, she takes it – tyres screech and the Doctor is thrown into the 99 Flakes box. The Federation van follows suit, and gains steadily as they run through a green, an amber, another green. Their van has more horsepower, the two women come to realise; once again the two ice cream vans line up. Yaz goes into another gear and speeds up, pushing past the speed limit, but it’s not enough to lose them.

The driver smiles at her again as he winds down his window. Yaz grumbles under her breath. Then the passenger leans forward again, this time having procured with a rather gun-like weapon.

She gasps – ducks her head. Just in time. The shot goes over her head, singing a couple of her hairs – and breaking both windows of the van’s driving compartment. It shatters with a high-pitched sound, and Yaz yelps.

The van veers to the left but she rights it. ‘Doctor, do something!’ she shouts over the noise of the engine. ‘He’s shooting at me!’

‘Yes, I saw!’ the Doctor shouts back. Yaz swerves the van onto another street – another residential area. Mercifully, there are no kids playing. The turn upsets the Doctor’s journey to the driving compartment, but with her free hand she holds onto the passenger seat.

The Redeto’s weapon, it seems, needs to power up again. Yaz takes the moment to glimpse at the Doctor – sleeves rolled up past her elbows, blonde hair flyaway, a few strands falling down past her forehead onto her face. There’s an intensity in the way she’s set her jaw. As she winds up the invention tucked under her arm, her right arm’s muscles tense and relax.

Yaz finds it amazing how, in the middle of being shot at, she still finds time to be wholly distracted by how impressive the Doctor looks.

Then they’re shot at again – the Doctor jumps back, Yaz compressing herself into a crouch – and she focuses on the task at hand. Namely, driving. They soar over a speed bump and the shock of the landing is particularly hard. Something in the back of the van breaks open. They return to a wider road. Still, the Federation van keeps up.

‘Now, Doctor!’ Yaz yells.

The buzzing of the Doctor’s contraption gets more and more frequent until it blends into one sound. A whirring starts up, like a whistling kettle, and the Doctor’s grin gets wide.

‘Show time,’ she breathes.

With a couple of steps, the Doctor places her body in the way of Yaz, so neither Redeto can destabilise the womens’ van. Hoisting the contraption onto her shoulder, she points the cone-end forward at the Redeto drivers and yanks down a lever. White hot light surrounds the machinery.

‘Oi!’ the Doctor shouts. ‘Stop shooting at my girlfriend!’ She presses a button, and a stream of white light gets propelled towards the Federation van.

Yaz and the Doctor speed away, but in the wing mirror, Yaz can witness what the contraption has done to their pursuers. The white light envelopes the surfaces of the ice cream van; with the two men stuck inside, they are caught in the consequences. The van completely freezes – momentum dissipating in the afternoon air – and nothing escapes. Not a sound, not a single movement. Hair does not sway. Arms do not collapse. The steering wheel does not turn.

They are simply suspended.

The sight of them in her mirror gets smaller and smaller, until they become inconsequential. Nothingness has never seemed so explicitly still. Yaz turns another corner and eases the van into a more residential-friendly speed. At this pace, the incessant ‘Greensleeves’ blaring through the ice cream van’s speakers feels less frantic.

Yaz huffs out a relieved breath.

‘Aw, mate,’ the Doctor beams from beside her. ‘I was hoping that would work.’

Yaz doesn’t want to entertain the alternative. ‘Wh-what was that?’ she asks. Her eyes are still on the road; even though the Federation van has been… apprehended, she still wants to get them as far away as possible.

The Doctor jumps into the passenger seat, already investigating the state of her contraption. The whirring has stopped, the light disappeared; the beeping, at least, is much more regular now. ‘That was a makeshift Time Stop,’ she explains. ‘Does what it says on the tin. I need this to reverse the effects, so they continue to be exactly how they were in the moment they got stopped, but by that time we’ll be much better prepared for them.’ She winds it up, and it bleeps at her. ‘I know, I know! Look, we’ll charge you when we get inside the TARDIS, alright?’ With that thought, she looks up at Yaz. ‘Can you head there now?’

Yaz nods, and changes direction.

It takes a minute or so of relative quietness – ‘Greensleeves’ is still playing, the twee high pitch fuelling Yaz’s irritation – when her brain catches up fully with the afternoon’s events. The tension of being pursued has melted away to reveal perfect memory.

She jolts in her seat.

‘Doctor,’ she says.

The Doctor jumps. ‘Yeah?’

‘You called me your girlfriend,’ Yaz states, her voice carefully devoid of anything emotional.

‘Yeah,’ the Doctor repeats, and the guilt seeps through. ‘Sorry; wasn’t thinking.’

Yaz keeps quiet, expecting the Doctor to elaborate.

It’s one of the hardest feats she’s ever achieved.

‘Sorry if that made you uncomfortable. Was just caught up in the moment, see. And when they shot at you like that – twice! – it just riled me up. Didn’t think.’ She pauses. ‘Should’ve had the conversation first, shouldn’t we?’

Yaz can’t keep the smile hidden any longer. A quick look to her left secures their eye contact. ‘I liked it,’ she shrugs, and in real time she sees the Doctor swell with delight. ‘You can keep calling me that, if you like.’

‘I will,’ the Doctor beams. She jumps up to attend to the serving area – but not before pressing a kiss to Yaz’s cheek.

The sheer joy of this revelation comes off the both of them in waves. Yaz thinks she may just appreciate ice cream vans a bit more now.

Sometimes her life is so crazy that she can’t quite believe it herself.

[thedcdunce]

Zealot

“They seek to complete Project Reunification. Should that happen, the survival of all mankind will be in jeopardy.” - Zealot

Real Name: Lady Zannah

Aliases:

Lucy Blaze

Sister Zealot

Gender: Female

Height: 6′ 0″

Weight: 120 lbs (54 kg)

Eyes: Blue

Hair: White

Race: Kherubim

Powers:

Kherubim Physiology

Dark Sorcery

Abilities:

Master Martial Artist

Weapons Master

Enhanced Intellect

Weaknesses:

Mental Illness

Universe: Wildstorm Universe

Origin: Born a Kherubim Lord from the planet Khera

Citizenship: American

Base of Operations:

Washington D.C.

Halo Building, New York City, New York

Parents: Harmony; mother

Marital Status: Single

Occupation:

Warrior

Majestrix of the Coda

Assassin

Government Operative

Education: Traditional Kherubim Education, Advanced Coda Training

First Appearance: WildC.A.T.s #1 (August, 1992)

Powers

Kherubim Physiology: Zealot is Kherubim, and a Kheribum noble meaning all her abilities are enhanced to various degrees, extremely long-lived, and nearly immortal. Her vocal cords are highly developed allowing a far wider range of tones than what is possible for a human being.

Enhanced Senses: Zealot's senses are more developed than those of earth humans; most notably her sight and hearing. She is easily at human peak as far as her ability to note detailed objects. Her hearing on the other hand is very enhanced. 

Superhuman Stamina: Zealot has a very high level of endurance. Her body and will are so strong, she will continue to try and fight even against overwhelming odds and when pain wracks every portion of her form. As a note, this isn't invulnerability. Simply a very high pain threshold.

Enhanced Durability: As a Kheribum her skin, bones, and muscle tissues are denser and super-hard compared to a normal human. A regular bullet will not adequately harm her.

Accelerated Healing: She can regenerate damaged or destroyed bodily tissue with far greater speed and efficiency than an ordinary human. She can regenerate from anything, even injured tissue, brain cells, missing limbs and organs. Gunshot and stab wounds, cuts, and broken bones can perfectly heal in a few minutes.

Enhanced Immunity: Her body neutralizes all detrimental contaminants making him immune to all poisons, toxins, venom, viruses, bacteria, diseases, disorders, parasites, allergens, and radiations.

Immortality: As a Kheran, Zealot possesses virtual immortality. Her race is extremely long lived and she has been on Earth for literally the whole of human civilization and is showing no sign of growing old anytime soon. She is for all intents and purposes biologically immortal.

Superhuman Agility: Zealot has a level of agility that is quite literally astonishing. Her agility, balance, flexibility, dexterity, and bodily coordination are enhanced to levels that are beyond the natural physical limits of an Olympic gold medalist, with a quickness far beyond norm. She's capable of feats such as vaulting off of walls, going from flips into a vertical stomp, adjusting her rate and direction when in terminal velocity fall and is essentially, well over Olympic level as far as her ability to flip, dodge, dive, spin and move about. This, coupled with her strength and endurance makes her a formidable fighter alone, not to mention fighting skills.

Superhuman Strength: As a Kheran, Zealot is naturally stronger than a normal human, this ability is further compounded by her extreme level of training and abilities as per her status as Coda Majestrix, and level of experience. She can lift/press up to two tons of weight with effort and in addition to this, knows how to best apply her strength.

Dark Sorcery: For one hundred years, Zealot was in service of the weaver of souls Tapestry. During that time, Tapestry attempted to subvert Zealot into her own image. In that time Zealot became a powerful enchantress with skills and powers nearly on the scale of her teacher; along with the potential to be among the most powerful magic users on the planet. Although later Zealot would purge herself of these terrible abilities, powers she would rarely use. Zealot still has a powerful mystical aura and abilities she demonstrated when she faced Tapestry once more.

Telepathic Communication: The ability to project a dreamy vision of flowing white energy; read minds, view and erase memories of others with or without the person's consent.

Teleportation: She can send herself and/or anyone to anyplace she/they wish to visit without any space/time restrictions.

Mystical Blasts: The ability to generate powerful blasts of arcane force.

Matter Reconstruction: The ability to reconstruct matter such as clothes into a different form and appearance.

Mystical Shields: The ability to generate protective shields of magic

Mystical Manipulation: Twists and subvert other magic's cast at her; return energy projections sent to her back to their source without loss of momentum or power.

Abilities

Master Martial Artist: With weapons that are older then some civilizations and a status that placed her as the head of an order of warrior women. Zealot has literally been described as one of, if not the deadliest assassin on the planet. Her fighting abilities are unmatched among the coda, with and without a blade. And she can hold her own against virtually anyone, including those physically better then her, in one on one and even group combat. She is more than a match for the best of the best. Her range of martial arts knowledge spans almost all arts known to man and include the alien fighting arts of the Coda.

Weapons Master: Her skills with weapons mainly focus on the use of bladed weapons such as the Coda Clef blade and the katana blade; as well as the one and two handed sword. She is also an expert marksman. She is skilled in the use of throwing objects, such as daggers and the bladed weapons connected to the back of her armored costume.

Throwing

Firearms

Swordsmanship

Enhanced Intellect

Occultism

Computer Operation

Criminology

Multilingualism

Medicine

Historiography

Interrogation

Intimidation

Tracking

Survival

Surveillance

Weaknesses

Mental Illness: Zealot hides emotions and is prone to obsessive tendencies.

History

Lady Zannah, also known as Zealot, is from the planet Khera, where she was part of one of the leading political and cultural groups known as The Coda. On Earth, she became a prominent member of the WildC.A.T.s.

On Khera

Zannah was one of the few fertile Kherubim and therefore she was picked to mate with Lord Majestros of the other leading faction of Khera, the Pantheon. In this union she gave birth to a daughter named Kenesha. However, because Zannah desired to be a warrior rather then a priestess like other Kherubim mothers, her mother Lady Harmony declared the child dead, took a lover and claimed her as her own. This meant Kenesha was brought up as her sister and Majestros was told the child had died.

Trapped on Earth

Thousands of years ago Zannah became one of the Kherubims who had become stranded on Earth when the explorer ship she was on crash landed after battling a Daemonite warship. It was only due to her lover Stratos that she was able to survive, as he was able to get her into one of the ships rescue pods. Not long after she joined the earth war between Kherubim and the Daemonites who wanted to take the planet over.

Zannah and the other survivors were scattered, but found they could easily hide amongst the human population. The Daemonites, while less humanoid used their powers of possession and shape-shifting to hide amongst the population. It was then that the next few millennia was spent waging a secret war, unknown to average humans.

Founding the Earth-based Coda

Not long after crashing on the planet did Zannah start to train human females in The Coda fighting tradition. She even took part in the Trojan War on the Greek side. The payment she was to receive was the 99 baby girls to add to her new Coda. During the war she helped the warrior Ulysses come up with the idea for the Trojan Horse, for her part she spared the royal family, so the massacre would not affect the women and children. The rest of the Coda would not allow such a betrayal of the tenants she had taught them, even from its own founder. She also further earned their contempt when she refused to kill her ally Artemis in a duel she had won. She was then cast out into exile.

It was during her exile that she came across the witch Tapestry and was forced into being her slave, in return for Kenesha's life being spared. She was a slave for many centuries through which the witch tried to brainwash her into thinking like her, but Zannah stayed true to herself though wasn't completely the same. It was during this time that she was taught dark sorcery by Tapestry, though because of its corrupted nature she would refuse to use it for many years after she had escaped.

Team One

In the 1900s Zannah took the name Lucy Blaze and joined Team One, alongside fellow Kherubim survivors Emp, Majestros, and John Colt. She would form a short lived relationship with John and they have a child, she then gives the child to a Siberian family for the child's protection. The team battle the evil Helspont on the first mission. Helspont is a Daemonite Lord and has formed a group known as the Cabal, made up of post-humans and Daemonites. The Daemonite wanted to destroy all humans using nuclear missiles so the Daemonites could rule the planet. Team One fought him and one of their members Regiment succeeded in destroying the only missile left at the cost of his life. The team disbanded after.

WildC.A.T.s

Years later, now going by the name Zealot, she came into contact with a human male named Cole Cash. Zealot trained Cole in Coda fighting arts but despite his training he still preferred firearms to edged weapons. Cole later took the secret identity of Grifter. The pair would join forces with Lord Emp in gathering half blooded Kherubim to form the WildC.A.T.s.

During her time on the team she again fought Helspont and his followers. This time he wanted to bring Daemonites to Earth, they foiled his plans. When Voodoo joined the team she also trained her in Coda fighting techniques. It was during this time that Zealot would be brought face to face with her old master Tapestry and the group she had hired. The WildC.A.T.s became involved and the battle even caught the attention of Mr. Majestic and Savant.

Zealot later was involved in the discovery of a crashed Kherubim ship, which the team used to travel back to Khera. Khera turned out not to be the utopian society they had thought it to be, even Zealot was confused as her memory was very different then what she had remembered of her homeworld. Zealot learned along with the rest of the team that the war against the Daemonites had ended thousands of years ago, and they were now second class citizens living in slums and ghettos. Zealot's attitude toward the situation strained her relationship with Voodoo. Also the Coda wanted to kill her hoping she would become a martyr for their cause. Zealot was disgusted and along with the rest of the team returned to Earth. Upon returning they found they had been replaced by a new team. The new team was Mr. Majestic, Savant, Ladytron, Max Cash and Tao. However, Tao was revealed to had been manipulating the team into starting a gang war and she almost killed Tao when they attacked him, but Majestic killed him first. However, it was reveal later that Tao staged his death and had a hypnotized shape-shifter Mr. White in his place.

Wildcore

Zealot was recruited by Department PSI to be a part of Wildcore when they had to deal with a group of aliens known as the D'rahn. She gained intel using a alien database, kept by a group of alien exterminators known as the Puritans. She learned that the D'rahn seek to hunt down earth's Kherubim, during the intel gathering, the D'rahn attack the military base killing the Chasers who protect it. The only people to make it out of the base alive are Zealot, the leader of the Chasers Brawl, and the leader of the Puritans, General Grant. Grant turns out to be a Daemonite in disguise and swears his faction's loyalty to the D'rahn, in turn the D'rahn enlighten them and they become more powerful. Wildcore is able to erase all but ten names of the earth-bound Kherubim, though they are not able to save any of the names left over but one. His fiance Alea is enlightened and she joins Wildcore. At the advice from Ferrian, Wildcore sought for Majestic for help, and their sorcerer ally Azrum to go look for Tapestry to get her help. Majestic joins the battle and kills the Typhon of the D'rahn causing them to retreat. Tapestry is found to have imprisoned Azrum and enslaved Zealot, she then reshapes the world, but Ferrian regains his memories and saves them. In the escape the team loses two members and Zealot left the group.

Coda Revisited

Zealot then returns to the WildC.A.T.s. During a mission involving Daemonite tech being used to turn humans into super soldiers in an Irish village, Zealot tries to save a group of children and is mortally shot. After being shot the village was caught in an explosion and the team believed her to be dead. In truth she was in hiding from various Coda factions, whom she was hunting down in secret, and had a one night stand with a drunken Grifter, who then joined her in her quest. F.B.I. agents soon tracked her down and sends Agent Orange, who unbeknownst to them is under Jack Marlowe's control. The Coda also tracked her down and sends Sarin to capture her, Agent Orange and his agents. Zealot was tortured and about to be executed when Ladytron, under Grifter's control, Mr. Dolby, the Beef Boys and C.C. Renozzo are sent after her. They eventually are freed and the Coda and their base were destroyed.

Kherubim Truth

Sometime later Mr. Majestic requested her help after his time-travel adventure revealed a world controlled by the Daemonites. Zealot, Majestic and Desmond go off in search of a ancient Kherubim tech known as a Planet Shaper. They are attacked by Helspont on their journey. Desmond merged with the device and the they find out that the Kherubim grew in power by enslaving species on planets and taking over that world and that Daemonites were a race that fought back against their control. Soon a rogue Kherubim of the Shapers Guild named Javen arrived. He wanted to use the Shaper and remake Earth into a new Khera and use Majestic's DNA to breed a new race of Kherubims. However, he found that Majestic's body was breaking down due to his dimension and time travel and attempted to take their child Savant as the next best thing. During the battle Majestic made Zealot reveal that she was in fact Savant's mother and he was her father. He then went off to stop the Kherubims forces on his own.

Nemesis from the Past

Some time later a Kherubim named Nemesis made an appearance and it was revealed that she was at one time the lover of Majestic and he used his position to get her trained as a member of the Coda despite her being an Adrastea. Later Zealot and Nemesis became rivals and friends, but because of politics Majestic could not continue a relationship with her and was ordered to mate with Zealot. Nemesis was later framed for the death of Coda members by a Brotherhood of the Sword member named Raven and Zealot swore vengeance against Nemesis, not knowing the truth. Sometime in 2005 Zealot caught up with her, who was killing Brotherhood members. Zealot and the WildC.A.T.s attacked her only to lose easily. She was then bested by Mr. Majestic, who took her to the Halo building where the truth was revealed. In ensuring the battle against the brotherhood Zealot, Nemesis and Majestic made peace with each other and fought side by side, and Nemesis in turn risked herself to stop Raven but is saved at the last minute by Majestic.

World's End

Following after Armageddon, Zealot and the rest of the Wildcats fought all manner of mutations and beasts to bring refugees back to the Halo building in Los Angeles for safety. She and her team were repeatedly, violently confronted by a overzealous Majestic, who wanted the building's supplies of Halo Batteries. After a later hostility with Majestic was altogether pacified, he told the Wildcats that he intended to offer them a chance to live on his Hawaiian kingdom. But disallowed some for being "undesirable", in which Zealot was included for lacking the capability to breed since the birth of Savant. When hearing this, Zealot was especially concerned of her daughter and demanded to know from Majestic as to what happened to Savant since she had left for him. Majestic, however, retorted to the fact that their daughter had always been on her own without the truth of her true parents.

After refusing Majestic's offers and the departure of Nemesis and Backlash, Zealot and the Wildcats were later called from help in Hawaii by Backlash and Nemesis who discretely warn of Majestic. Suspicious, Zealot and the Wildcats left for Hawaii on a feign 'visit'. When Majestic left Hawaii with Spartan to Asia, Zealot and Nemesis silently communicated each other through a training session of the problem. She then realized from Nemesis that Majestic had forcefully kept Savant imprisoned as a breeding mare through test tubes in bringing "pure" Kheran heirs. After releasing Savant, Zealot and the others barely escaped and returned to the Halo building where it was under attack by Daemonites. Zealot and Grifter helped in clearing out the invading Daemonites and allowing the building's refugees to board the MIRV, before everyone escape with the destruction of the Halo building.

Zealot and her team later helped John Lynch and Team-7 in stopping her former teammate-turned villain, Tao, who intended to become a god from stealing the powers of Void, Providence and Max Faraday. During the midst of battle against Tao, Zealot and her daughter Savant were sent by Spartan in recruiting Majestic's help. Upon seeing each other, however, Zealot and Majestic briefly fought each other after the later was still outrage over Nemesis' apparent death until Savant clarified them and informed that Tao was at fault for Majestic's behavior and indirectly responsible for Nemesis' death. When Zealot and her allies gained the power of the Creation Equation and subsequently facing her worst fear, in which Zealot was manipulated into trying to kill her own daughter while Majestic tries to prevent them. Following Tao's defeat, Zealot was granted a new and improve version of her costume patterned after her original attire.

When the Wildcats were looking for The High in Colorado, Zealot and the others were summoned to UnLondon by the Authority and offered the chance of leaving Earth on the Carrier. Zealot decided to stay on the planet and soon joined in the conflict against the militant Knights of Khera, which she greatly acknowledged of their notoriety. She and some of Earth's heroes were sent to the North Pole in succeeding to destroying one of the Knights' terraforming machines. After the Knights' defeat, Zealot and Maul decided to leave the Wildcats after hearing Spartan, who became the de facto leader of Earth's superhumans, of unifying Earth which she vehemently disagreed and preferred on training humanity into a defense force.

Following the three month period of Earth's reconstruction, Zealot claimed African nation of Zanzibar as her protectorate. After this, she recruited willing women across Africa into her own Coda army dedicating to her claim of defending Earth from alien threats. Though her Coda is fewer in numbers, Zealot had Jeremy Stone to artificially impregnate some of her volunteers to produce more female warriors through Kheran technology. This, however, cost the lives of some of the volunteers under the experimentation given that the technology are only specifically suited to Kherubims. Zealot was not concerned of this after Jeremy Stone had informed her of this, much to Jeremy's shock. Eventually, Midnighter, who was carefully concerned of Zealot's agenda since her departure from the Wildcats, investigated Zanzibar and learned of the Coda's fatal birthing process. Ultimately, Zealot and Midnighter engaged in single combat. Throughout their fight, the two were evenly matched as they argued back and forth of their flaws in which Zealot struck a chord in Midnighter in being unable to saved his adopted daughter Jenny Quarx. Eventually both combatants were literally grabbing at each others' throats when Maul, who grew tired of the violence and the guilt for cooperating with Zealot's plan, intervened to stop their fight. As he did this, Zealot was about to slice him out of reflex. Immediately, Maul had no time to avoid this and shrunk down at the subatomic level, in which everyone thought he disintegrated. Zealot was shocked of what she had done, but didn't believe that her sword disintegrated him. She was then chided by Midnighter, who points out that not only did she "kill" Maul but also lost him to maintain the machines for the pregnancies. But Zealot just coolly told him that she and the Coda will move elsewhere and continue their mission in protecting Earth, in which Midnighter vowed that he would follow and stop her wherever she went.

Fun Facts

Since Armageddon Zealot had started a sexual relationship with Grifter.

Almost no one in the Wildstorm universe can beat Zealot hand-to-hand skill wise. Backlash and Midnighter come close, yet in the end, Zealot has weapons older than him and her superhuman attributes. With a sword, she has shown herself to be unmatched.

[the-far-bright-center]

eventually, even stars burn out

“Sometimes there are things no one can fix.”

Over the past couple of weeks, I’ve become increasingly concerned that my days in the SW fandom (or at least, the tumblr side of it) may be numbered.

I very much hope I’m wrong about this. So, on the slight chance that it might help somehow, I’ll try to explain why I feel this way right now.

As most of you know, I have an extremely fraught and complicated relationship with Disney’s so-called ‘new canon’ material, which all began when TFA left me so heartbroken that I’ve been unable to trust anyone at all with Star Wars ever since. I struggle to believe that the Skywalker saga will ever be treated with the adequate respect and care that it requires, and I fear that new material will only attempt to further erode its original mythic meaning....just so the ‘story’ can be continued on indefinitely. It is therefore difficult if not impossible for me to be excited about ‘new canon’ content, because ever since TFA I view every single piece of SW media released by Disney with (imo warranted) mistrust and skepticism.

After a certain SW animated series ended earlier this year, I had thought I would finally be free from the strain of constantly worrying about ‘new’ content. My blacklists covered most of the major things I didn’t want to see, and tumblr’s filter feature seemed to take care of the rest. It still took some careful navigating not to run into sequels-related crap and other random shit, but it was not impossible. I’d breathed a sigh of relief, and carried on minding my own business, living in my SW happy place where the things that distressed me didn’t exist.

But then some news broke, and suddenly, my hard-won calm was shattered. It felt like someone had kicked the heart right out of me. My carefully constructed safe space felt safe no longer. I’d thought the PT and TCW era would be safe from Disney, at least for a while. But I was wrong. It was like all the faint hope I had left for my ability to withstand the current Disney!SW onslaught fled from me in a single instant, and have been in a state of anxiety, depression, and despair ever since.

I’ve been so scared, because the last time I felt this despondent was after TFA, when I honestly thought I would never feel anything warm and light and beautiful about Star Wars ever again. And it ended up taking me YEARS to move beyond that, and to reclaim my feels and to get into the headspace I needed to be in to truly enjoy it again.

And I just... don’t know if I have that kind of energy anymore. The last three years have taken a huge toll (in RL I mean, not just in fandom). On top of my seemingly never-ending mental health struggles, I’ve had some physical ailments that went un-diagnosed for a long time and for which I’m only just starting to receive treatment. I’m always tired, mentally, physically, and emotionally. All of this makes the prospect of going through that same process all over again seem daunting, if not completely impossible.

Because back then, after TFA, when I felt that I’d ‘lost’ the Original Trilogy, I still had other places to turn. I was able to go back in time, and re-ignite my passion for SW again by re-watching the PT and TCW. But now? will those be taken from me too? have they already? is too late ?

(Have I just been delaying the inevitable, all this time?)

Horrible thoughts like this keep coming into my mind. Despite this, I haven’t given up totally...not yet. I’m still hanging on, or at least ...trying to. But in the midst of all this, I’ve been attempting to figure out what exactly is going on here. Why do these things upset me so badly that it causes me such intense emotional reactions? To the point that I can hardly converse with friends online anymore, without fear what they will say? To the point that I can’t even talk to my (very supportive) husband about Star Wars anymore without freaking out about spoilers?? To the point that I even end up feeling suicidal at times? Why does it feel like my whole world is collapsing?

Maybe it’s as simple as the fact that, when I was growing up, ‘Star Wars’ was always, from as long as I can remember, something that was ‘finished’. Complete. It was over. And its completeness was a source of comfort to me from the start. Here was a story that contained darkness and struggle, but which had an ending. And an uplifting, mythic, and spiritual one, at that.  And even later, when I was a teen and in my early 20s during the release of the Prequels, it was still something that had an end in sight. From the beginning of the PT, we knew that once those three episodes were over, the saga would be complete.

And that’s just the thing. With Disney’s Star Wars, there is no end in sight. It is something that, for all intents and purposes, could be dragged on indefinitely. And that thought is terrifying enough to make me start feeling panicky all over again. Years and years of feeling like this, all the time?? Dear Force, make it stop. D:

It’s becoming clear to me that it’s not just about one particular piece of media that I want to avoid. It’s not just the fact that something so close to my heart has at times been treated disrespectfully or even threatened with annihilation, and that I’ve felt helpless to prevent it. It’s not about my various and sundry issues with Disney’s version of SW. It’s not even that I believe that all of Disney’s SW output is inherently ‘bad’ or bound to be terrible just because it’s under the brand of Disney. I mean, I’ve been willing and able to ignore the aspects of ‘new canon’ that I loathe, and pick and choose from the bits that I do enjoy (which are few and far between, but do, occasionally, still exist). And law of averages would suggest there would have to be some decent or even, gasp, quality content at times (see: Rogue One, for instance).

So what, then, is *really* causing me so much pain and anguish on an almost daily basis? What is making my continued attempts to be part of the ‘fandom’ feel so incredibly futile?? It’s not the additions to canon themselves, but rather the frequency and sheer number of them, along with the fandom reception of these potentially infinite ‘additions’ that are causing me so much turmoil.

In the years since TFA, I’ve attempted to deal with this by viewing Disney’s ‘new canon’ as just another version of an Expanded Universe—in other words, as something optional that is not required in order to understand and appreciate the original, and that only needs to ‘exist’ in my mind and as a part of my headcanon if I wish it to. So, despite how much some of this material hurts me on a personal level, and despite the fact that the sheer amount of it makes it difficult to navigate around, up til now I’ve been able to continue as at least a semi-functional SW fan in its wake.

But lately, I’m beginning to be concerned that this method is not an adequate way of dealing with this. Because, even though *I’m* perfectly capable of ignoring the ‘new canon’ material that I don’t want to see, my need to ignore it makes it almost impossible for me to interact with 99% of the rest of the fandom.

And without interaction, a major component of fandom itself is missing. And it’s that sense of isolation and alienation that is killing me.

While tumblr as a platform has changed the face of online fandom for many (and made it unrecognizable to me in so many ways), I am still very old school in that I believe that the main purpose of fandom is to a) enjoy what we love to the nth degree, b) share what we love with each other, and c) through discussion about our shared fictional passions, create transformative fanworks, such as fanfiction, fan art, edits, fan vids, metas, etc.

This may seem like I’m stating the obvious, but unfortunately for a vast majority on tumblr, “fandom” has become less about the above, and far moreso about keeping up with actors’ and creators’ social media accounts, using fiction as a platform for ‘performative’ social justice in which people show off how ‘woke’ they are, and, worst of all (for me), constantly fixating on announcements, trailers, and news about ‘the next big thing’. It seems like, for many fans, speculation about upcoming releases is more important than enjoying the content that already exists. It’s what they LIVE for. And the minute those new pieces of media appear, everything else that came before is just... forgotten, or cast aside, in favour of it. This leaves me feeling like I’ve been left in the dust. Because, for me, the mere idea of ‘the next big thing’ fills me with nothing but extreme anxiety, depression, panic, as though I have a giant black hole in the pit of of my stomach. I live in utter DREAD of SW news. So my ability to relate to other fans and to interact with them on any meaningful level has greatly diminished due to this factor alone.

In a smaller fandom, where announcements maybe happen once or twice a year at most, I can often weather it. For example, several years ago, I left a fandom for a certain popular tv series, but remained semi-active just for the sake of one particular ship from it that I still loved. I was able to avoid most news and spoilers because it was just one show with one season per year, and that was it. But with SW in its current form, with Disney’s need to pump out new content on what seems like an almost weekly or even daily basis, it’s becoming too much for me to bear.

As I said in a previous post,

 “.....one of my many problems with Disney’s current treatment of Star Wars is that there is such a thing as ‘too much canon’. In the days of the EU, it didn’t matter how much of that was released, because any and all of it could be dismissed at a given time, because it was never official canon. But nowadays, EVERY DAMN THING has a film, book, show, comic series, animated short, video game, etc. about it. And this actually angers and distresses me, because it begins to leave less and less room for headcanons and for fans’ imaginations to run free. When there is SO much ‘official’ canon that it covers all the backstories and little ‘in between moments’, where is the freedom for writing fic and just…imagining things? Star Wars is not Marvel-verse, and should not be treated as such. Not all canon is (or even SHOULD BE) considered  ‘equal’, and this is something that, in pre-Disney times, was understood and respected. The main saga films were canon. That was it. The rest of it fell into various gradations of ‘sub’-canon. And imo, that is how it should, ideally, still be.” 

To have constant ‘additions’ to a canon that is as long-established as Star Wars feels completely disingenuous to me. So each time something new is announced, it feels like a breaking of the fourth wall. A chipping away at my ability to continue *believing* in Star Wars. It feels like someone keeps bursting into a completed story to try to mansplain it to me, saying, ‘ha, just kidding!! it’s been 30 years, 20 years, 10 years, 5 years (etc) that you’ve loved this and believed in this, but ACTUALLY the story is not REALLY over! look over here, we want to make money off you so we’re pretending the story is continuing even though it’s fake and forced!! haha!!!’  

Most of my Star Wars ‘feels’ are predicated upon a very simple premise, and that is the fact that the Skywalker saga (aka the PT and OT), AS IT EXISTS IN ITS ORIGINAL STATE, is the story of Anakin Skywalker, and that it is a complete and coherent myth, and an ultimately uplifting and redemptive tale. Everything I love about Star Wars comes back to Anakin Skywalker, his cosmic role as the Chosen One, and his eventual redemption. The fact that he, through the power of his son’s unconditional love, returns to his True Self, breaks free of his chains and sacrifices himself for his loved one, setting himself and the galaxy free. Everything depends on it, and revolves around it. My love of Anakin and Padme, my love of Obi-Wan and Anakin. My love of Snips and Skyguy, my love of Luke and Vader. My love of the Skywalker family, and their entire PT and OT storyline. And of course, my love of Anakin himself.

And what is more, all of the above is likewise dependent on the fact that the OT generations’ tale is an unequivocally heroic one, and that its heroism is complete and lasting, on both familial and galactic scale. It is not something left unfinished for the subsequent generation(s) to ‘complete’. The original saga as *I* know it does not require the ‘next generation’ in order to make it truly heroic. As I’ve mentioned elsewhere, the tragedy of the Prequels is completely redeemed by the end of Return of the Jedi. It is NOT carried forward as some kind of ‘curse’ onto the next generation. The Skywalkers are representative of the state of the galaxy, and, through Anakin and Luke’s story in the OT, both they and the galaxy itself are  reconciled and made whole again once and for all. That is the entire point of the Chosen One prophecy, and of the metaphysical, galaxy-freeing role that redemptive love plays in the (original) Skywalker saga. If that seems ‘unrealistic’ to contemporary audiences, well, you know what?? Too freaking bad!! Star Wars is not supposed to be ‘realistic’, it’s supposed to be a MYTH.

Take that away, and there IS no Star Wars for me.

And yet, that is exactly what TFA attempted to do. It attempted destroy this basic long-held truth, and with it my ability to love and feel even anything remotely positive about Star Wars,  its story, and its characters. And so it is understandable, I would hope, that ever since then I would greet new ‘additions’ to the original canon with extreme mistrust, skepticism, and even outright despair.

But despite my (imo) perfectly legitimate and justifiable reasons for feeling this way, I still realize that having such, erm, extreme reactions to even the mere prospect of new or additional content is not ‘normal’. ‘Normal’ fans are happy when they get new ‘canonical’ content right?? Unfortunately, I am not and will likely never be able to be a ‘normal’ fan in this way. When it comes to Star Wars, I will never be able to feel even the remotest bit of excitement for any such new canon content. (Which, in this case, more often than not simply means ‘officially sanctioned by a giant corporation, created under a set of confusing, disjointed, and entirely arbitrary standards, and deemed permissible for you to consume and ‘believe in’ as a real version of characters and events’, but I digress...).

Everything I love and understand about Star Wars existed before Disney ‘did’ anything to it, and everything that I still value about Star Wars to this day is likewise not dependent on whatever Disney might try do to it in the present or future. But even though I know this on an intellectual level, whenever there is new content coming out, it nonetheless still feels like a mortal threat, looming on the horizon. It feels like it’s going to try to take away everything I love all over again. And I fall into despair because I honestly lack the strength to fight it.

(Or at least, I lack the strength to fight it alone.)

And so unfortunately, from my perspective (even though I know that of course people don’t intend it to come across this way), when other fans get so excited about the new stuff, and when it seems like they so readily just accept it without question, it ends up leaving me feeling as though I’ve been left behind. As though what *I* love is, in their eyes, not enough. That somehow, the original Skywalker saga is not enough. That loving Lucas-era canon, but not Disney’s, is just me limiting myself or ‘missing out’ somehow. Whereas, from my perspective, the original material IS ‘enough’. It feels complete. It IS complete. Believing it’s not complete seems to me to be exactly what Disney wants people to think, so they can justify all of their never-ending additions, re-writes, retcons, and continuations.

And thus every time Disney churns out more content, and I see people around me acting like this content is not just a fun (and entirely optional) addition, but is rather something essential that all fans ‘deserve’ and need (despite having been perfectly fine without it for years, if not decades), just makes me feel even more alienated than I already do. Again, it’s not merely the existence of the constant stream of ‘new’ content that is killing me, but rather the fact that this content is greeted with elation by what seems to be the majority of fans these days. Yeah I know this makes me sound like I’m just resentful and bitter that other people are happy. Please know I don’t begrudge others’ happiness. Rather, I’m just struggling with the fact that while others are excited, I cannot be, thus leading me to feel isolated and left out.

But since the last thing I want is to rain on anyone’s parade, I try to be sensitive to this. Other than my various early anti-TFA rants (which I got out of my system years ago), for the most part (with the occasional exception), I’ve been keeping mum on these matters. But more often than not, in order not to be a source of negativity to others, I just end up hiding away, not talking to anyone, retreating further and further within myself  to the point that I wonder what I’m even doing here anymore.

The level of pain and anxiety and stress that all of this—from the constant stream of new content, to fans’ reception of it, to my own desperate attempts to avoid and ignore it—causes me cannot be adequately summed up in just a few words. I struggle to convey how I feel to most people because I honestly don’t know how to explain it. I feel ridiculous for even writing it down. It sounds so silly when I type it out, even though in my heart and mind, this is a very real and debilitating issue. Every time something new is announced, I become sick to my stomach, I can’t eat or sleep, I have intrusive, racing thoughts, and I feel that I have to hide out for days, weeks, or even months. I have to limit who I can talk to, and WHAT subjects I can talk to them about. And each time, it begins to feel more and more futile to even bother trying to avoid everything. Like trying to swim upstream, or to remain upright in a tidal wave. It is a constant onslaught, and I’m not sure how much longer I can weather it.

(Yes, there are some underlying mental health issues going on here that no doubt contribute to things on some level. However, it’s a complicated situation, because for many years I have been turning to fandom as a sort of therapy for myself. My most beloved fictional universes, characters, relationships, and stories are a safe-space for me, a refuge I can retreat into when my existence becomes unbearable. A coping mechanism. I don’t use that term lightly either... some days, it literally keeps me alive. And so when that coping mechanism feels like it’s being ripped away, my downward spiral into the abyss is terrifyingly swift indeed. But this is an extremely personal matter, which I won’t go into any further here, because I don’t want to diminish the topic at hand, which is a legitimate and very real struggle of mine, and is something that affects me regardless of the state of my mental health at a given time.)

Just to be clear, I’m not trying to worry anyone. I’m not planning on going anywhere just yet, and hopefully not for a while. This blog is too important to me. The people I’ve met here are too important to me. Star Wars, such as it exists in my heart, is too important to me. Despite the fact that I’m struggling emotionally, and despite the fact that it’s increasingly difficult for me to find content for this blog, I have been determined not to abandon it, and have made sure that I have a queue ready for the days when I don’t feel up to posting.

That being said, I do feel the need to be honest here about just how much of a struggle it has been to hold on, and just how alienated I have felt from so much of what is considered the normal fandom experience. And to express my anguish and despair over the fact that I can never, ever be innocently excited about new content being released in this Disney era. Doesn’t matter what it is, or who makes it. Ever since TFA, I am simply unable to ever feel happy that it even exists in same world that I inhabit. And this makes me fear for my longevity in a fandom that seems to thrive on the very thing that I abhor most and that fills me with constant dread.

While I’m uncertain these days as to whether ‘happiness’ is even possible for me in this physical existence, I do feel that my fandom experience ought to be, at the very least, a source of comfort. But as more and more of my SW safe-spaces are eroded, as more and more words must be blacklisted, as more and more tags become ‘off limits’ to me, I have fewer and fewer corners of this fandom to which I can turn.

I wish things were not like this. I wish *I* were not like this. It would be so much easier if I could just be happy like everyone else. But sadly, it seems that when it comes to being able to participate in and enjoy SW fandom in its current form, something in me is fundamentally, irreparably, broken.

What I hope to accomplish by writing and posting this, I’m not entirely sure. Obviously, I am not trying to make anyone feel bad for enjoying what they enjoy. Nor am I even seeking ‘validation’ on this matter. Because, while there are no doubt others out there who feel similarly (and *big hugs* to them if they do), I am not actually looking for commiseration or to ‘wallow’ in misery at this time. For some reason that just makes things a hundred times worse. Because...I’m still trying to hold out hope that even someone as damaged as myself can nonetheless continue to love Star Wars and even be part of an active online community.

So for now, I just needed to get this off my chest in the hopes that maybe, just maybe, by doing so, I can find a way back from this.  

[pogueman]

What I learned from my first total solar eclipse

I’ve always thought eclipse chasers—these people who spend thousands of dollars flying around the world to spend two minutes looking at a solar eclipse—were a little nutty. I mean, that’s a little extreme, right? If you want to see what a solar eclipse looks like, type solar eclipse into Google.

Of course, I get that an eclipse is supposed to be better experienced live, in the same way that seeing a band perform live is more exciting than listening to a recording. But the way these people talk? “Life-changing?” “Addicting?” “Spiritual?” That, I’ve always thought, was a little much.

A total eclipse of the sun is when the earth, moon, and sun are all lined up perfectly, so that the moon precisely blocks the sun for couple of minutes. (How come its silhouette is exactly the right size to block the more distant sun? Pure coincidence.)

That’s the moment of totality—where the moon is positioned fully between you and the sun, so that all you see of the sun is a ring of fire around a jet-black circle. It supposedly looks like this:

Here’s the kind of eclipse photo we usually see. It’s not accurate. (nasa.gov)

Getting to see a total eclipse is relatively hard. There were just 62 total eclipses during the 20th century. Even then, the moon’s shadow carves out a narrow path, only 70 miles wide, where you can experience totality. (Outside that band, you see a partial eclipse, where you see the sun with a rounded bite taken out of it—kind of like the Apple logo.)

So to experience totality, you have to be in the right place in the right time—and have the right weather.

Experts were raving about how rare and special this week’s eclipse would be. They called it the “Great American Eclipse,” because (a) its path would cross this entire country, for the first time in 99 years, and (b) the total eclipse would be visible only from this country. Totality would pass through 14 states, passing over the home of 12.2 million Americans.

The “path of totality” during this week’s solar eclipse crossed the entire United States. (NASA.gov)

It would also fall during the final days of school summer vacation. In other words, all the planets were aligned for me to make my own first trip to see a total solar eclipse.

Not for my benefit. For my kids. Obviously.

Where to go

NASA’s websites featured some great tools for planning a visit. Almost every state in the U.S. would be able to see some of the eclipse. But we wanted to experience totality if we could.

NASA’s interactive map made it clear that, for us, the closest spot would be South Carolina. So I booked plane, car, and a cheap hotel, and started getting my kids excited.

Three days before the eclipse, though, it became clear that South Carolina was not the place to be this time; almost the entire state would be covered by clouds on the big day!

Of course, a total solar eclipse is very cool even if it’s cloudy. You still feel a crazy rapid temperature drop, see the day rapidly turning into temporary night, and hear animals and bugs going crazy. But you miss the grand prize: Looking into the sky and seeing the eclipse itself.

Well, dangit. Now what?

Well, I’d come this far. I bit the bullet and canceled our reservations.

The next closest spot on the eclipse’s path of totality seemed to be Nashville, Tennessee—a great place for a family trip even without an eclipse. Better yet, the weather was supposed to be clear! Nashville was hosting all kinds of special events. At their science museum, for example, there would be talks and booths and exhibits. At the baseball stadium, the mayor was hosting a massive viewing party.

All the flights to Nashville were sold out. So we flew to Memphis instead, and drove the 3.5 hours to Nashville.

The night before, in our hotel room, my sons (ages 20 and 12) and I planned our strategy. Nashville would experience 1 minute, 55 seconds of totality; but smaller towns 30 miles away were closer to the eclipse’s center line. Gallatin, Tennessee, for example, would have 2 minutes, 40 seconds of totality. Jeffrey, my seventh grader, insisted that we skip the festivities of Nashville and go for the longer eclipse experience.

The closer to the center line, the longer the moment of totality. Gallatin was looking good. (greatamericaneclipse.com)

“You realize that, with all the traffic, we’ll have to sit in the car for two extra hours to get to Gallatin—for 45 seconds more eclipse?” said Kell, his older brother. But Jeffrey was adamant.

The big morning

We arrived at Triple Creek Park in Gallatin two hours before the start of the eclipse. This is a vast public park—acres and acres of soccer fields, baseball fields, field fields. There were lots of people there for the eclipse, but the park wasn’t what you’d call crowded in any sense; finding places to park our car and ourselves was easy.

Here and there, we saw people with telescopes or huge telephoto camera lenses. Everyone was incredibly friendly; there was a sense of shared excitement. The day was blistering hot, so most people found shady trees for waiting.

It was a hot August day in Tennessee, so most of us waited under the trees until the big moment.

The eclipse began at 11:28 a.m. For an hour, it was OK. You could wear your cardboard eclipse glasses, look up at the sun, and see the growing rounded bite taken out of its side. “It’s a Pac-Man,” said almost everyone. Interesting, but slow.

But then, as 12:29 p.m. approached, things began to get wild. We could feel the heat ease off fast, as more and more of the sun got blocked. The cicadas that had produced a loud, steady background rattle all morning suddenly went quiet.

My sons and I, moments before the totality that blew us away.

And then, with a minute to go, the magic began. The whole world began to dim. But here’s the thing—it wasn’t dark like nightfall. This darkness had a silvery-grey tint to it. It was as though someone had put a giant Instagram dimming filter on everything you could see. Completely otherworldly and strange and beautiful.

And then, suddenly, the eclipse hit totality: The sun was completely blocked by the moon. All around us, we could hear people crying out. These weren’t crowd noises like you’d hear at a circus, baseball game, or theater—it was gasps of awe and emotion, a collective sound I’d never heard from a crowd before.

My eclipse app’s guide voice announced that it was now safe to remove our glasses and look directly up at the sun.

Oh, my, god.

While we’d had the glasses on, all we could see was the bright yellow crescent of the sun—and around it, blankness. No color, no detail.

But with the glasses off…!!

Where there should have been the sun, there was a jet-black perfect circle, sharp and laser-cut. Around it was the corona—a blazing intense spill of the sun’s atmosphere. All of it was suspended against a deep blue sky. That’s what I remember: Intense black circle, intense ring of white, intense glowing blue.

Yes, there is color in an eclipse—vivid, iridescent, alien. Almost every solar-eclipse photo lies. All of those Google image searches? They’re baloney. They show a black ball against a black sky, and that is not what it looks like.

I’ve tried to Photoshop the right color scheme into this photo:

This is my Photoshop hack trying to show the blue sky.

We could see some stars—against blue, not black.

Here’s another reason why no photo can ever represent a total eclipse: Because a photo can show the corona only as bright as your screen (or piece of paper)! You don’t get any sense of how stunningly bright and pure and intense that fire is. It’s hundreds of times brighter than your screen.

Our eyes can detect a much greater dynamic range (the scale of brights and darks) than any camera can. What I learned that day is that a total solar eclipse is almost alone among the things we experience, in that you can’t photograph it. To see what it looks like, you have to be there.

When I looked around us, I saw a strange, gorgeous fake twilight. There was what looked like a 360-degrees “sunrise” around the entire horizon, and the sky ranged from dusky blue to deep violet.

When I looked up, though, my heart raced. The intensity, the dazzling colors, the freakishness of that sight—a jet-black hole where the sun should be! I’m not a touchy-feely person by any stretch, but this was a spiritual experience; I was so moved, and I could tell that my sons were, too. I could easily see why ancient civilizations assumed that some god or mystic force was responsible for total eclipses.

(I love this description by retired NASA astrophysicist Fred Espenak, who’s witnessed 27 solar eclipses: “You feel something in the pit of your stomach like something is wrong in the day, something is not right,” he told Time. “As totality begins, and the shadow sweeps over you, the hairs on the back of your neck and arms stand up.”)

I’d been warned not to try to take pictures of my first eclipse; the last thing you want is to miss the magic while you’re futzing with your gear. So during the 160 seconds of totality, I allowed myself about 10 seconds to snap pictures (Sony a6000 SLR, solar filter, 210mm lens). They’re not great pictures—you really need much more zoom—but here’s the idea:

Even my SLR with a solar filter captured only the roughest idea of the eclipse. Remember: The sky was deep blue, not black.

As the moon began to edge out of the sun’s way, we were treated to a moment of the “diamond ring” effect as the sun breaks past the right edge of the moon:

The “diamond ring” moment, where the sun begins to peek out again as the moon moves on. And again: Imagine the sky deep blue, not black. (abcnews.com)

And then, as quickly as it had begun, the process reversed itself. Daylight returned, and the world’s colors faded back in. The temperature shot back up. The crowd cheered. People ran to check their cameras, or babble with their families, or wipe tears from their eyes.

The first-timers, in particular, had been somehow changed. We’d all seen something freakish, rare, beautiful, shocking, historic—and much, much bigger than ourselves.

I had set up a GoPro on a tripod to film the whole scene, hoping to capture the fading light and the sounds of the event. Unfortunately, I was too wrapped up in the event to notice that another guy set up his camera and tripod right in front of mine, partially blocking the shot. Sorry about that, but you still get the idea—you can see the light fall, and hear the crowds and the confused cicadas—in this time-lapse video:

The modern-age eclipse

Actually, this wasn’t my first solar eclipse. I can still remember my parents showing me one in the backyard in Cleveland when I was 7 years old—and using a stack of color film negatives to protect my eyes! (A little research reveals that, first of all, that’s not a safe way to view an eclipse—and second, we weren’t in the path of totality. But I remember everybody being pretty excited anyway.)

What’s different, of course, is time and technology. The internet made planning our eclipse trip a snap—we could see the path of totality and observe the weather. Phone apps guided us through the experience. Those cheap cardboard eclipse glasses made it safe to look up with confidence. Social media made it possible to share the experience around the world in real time—both the exhilaration of seeing the eclipse, and, for some, the heartbreak of being thwarted by unexpected clouds (as Nashville viewers ultimately were).

The next total eclipse will come to the Earth in July 2019, but most of it will be wasted on empty ocean. (You’ll be able to see it in Chile and Argentina, but it’ll be winter time, and therefore possibly cloudy.)

The next one to come to the U.S. will occur in April, 2024—seven years from now. It’ll fly up from Texas to Maine, like this:

nasa.gov

Take it from a guy with a changed attitude: You should try to be there.

I’ll be joining you.

More from David Pogue:

Samsung’s Bixby voice assistant is ambitious, powerful, and half-baked

Is through-the-air charging a hoax?

Electrify your existing bike in 2 minutes with these ingenious wheels

Marty Cooper, inventor of the cellphone: The next step is implantables 

The David Pogue Review: Windows 10 Creators Update

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David Pogue, tech columnist for Yahoo Finance, welcomes nontoxic comments in the comments section below. On the web, he’s davidpogue.com. On Twitter, he’s @pogue. On email, he’s poguester@yahoo.com. You can read all his articles here, or you can sign up to get his columns by email. 

[alisha4real]

Talent Management and the Effect of the Peter Principle

By: Alisha Robert-Novak aka ALISHA4REAL

Every organization of a given type must perform certain functions in order to be profitable. Employers must have the right workforce in order to supply its customers and do its work. For example, key functions of many retail and manufacturing business that provide products and services to customers include production, purchasing, marketing, accounting, sales and customer service personnel. Using such functions as the basis for structuring the organization may, in some instances, have the advantage of efficiency. However, these advantages come with hidden drawbacks, some constraints, and risk.

The Peter Principle is an observation that the tendency in most organizational hierarchies, such as that of a corporation, is for every employee to rise in the hierarchy through promotion and remain employed until they reach a level of respective incompetence. The Peter Principle was laid out by Canadian educational scholar and sociologist, Dr. Laurence J. Peter, in his 1968 book titled "The Peter Principle." Dr. Peter also stated in his book that an employee's inability to fulfill the requirements of a given position that he is promoted to may not be the result of general incompetence on the part of the employee as much as it is due to the fact that the position simply requires different skills than those the employee actually possesses. For example, an employee who is very good at following rules or company policies may be promoted into the position of creating rules or policies, despite the fact that being a good rule follower does not mean that an individual is well-suited to be a good rule creator or enforcer of rules.

This is why talent management plays an important role in the business strategy since it manages one of the important assets of the company—its people. Companies should make the effort to effectively manage the employees to help them develop their skills and capabilities in order to retain them. Talent management is an organization's commitment to recruit, hire, retain, and develop the most talented and superior employees available in the job market. So, talent management is a useful term when it describes an organization's commitment to hire, manage, develop, and retain talented employees.

The field of Talent Management increased in popularity after “McKinsey and Company's 1997 research and the book “The War for Talent” hit the shelves in 2001 and in a period in the U.S. when the article was published by Economic Policy Institute, “The State of Working America 1998-99”, on September 11, 2002, based on “EPI’s flagship book “The State of Working America 1998-99 was released by Cornell University Press on January 1, 1999.”, I found out how this would impact the trajectory of my career for the first time and why I decided to pick the human resource field.

Jobs | Growth down, insecurity up

"The average unemployment rate during the current business cycle has been lower than during any such cycle since 1967-73, with joblessness falling to about 4.5 percent in mid-1998. But even this historic low has not fully restored workers’ sense of job security or reduced the share of workers in contingent and other nonstandard jobs.

·  Displaced workers face difficulties finding new employment, with more than one-third out of work when interviewed one to three years after their displacement. When they do find work, their new jobs pay, on average, about 13 percent less than the jobs they lost, and more than one-fourth no longer have employer-provided health insurance.

·   Work in the 1990s is of an increasingly contingent nature, with almost 30 percent of workers employed in situations that were not regular full-time jobs in 1997.”

Research shows that employing incompetent individuals at the management level is more alienating than being treated poorly and why most companies lose the most talented people. The impact of absentee leadership on job satisfaction outlasts the impact of both constructive and overtly destructive forms of leadership. Constructive leadership immediately improves job satisfaction, but the effects dwindle quickly. Destructive leadership immediately degrades job satisfaction, but the effects dissipate after about six months. In contrast, the impact of absentee leadership takes longer to appear, but it degrades subordinates’ job satisfaction for at least two years. It also is related to a number of other negative outcomes for employees, like role ambiguity, health complaints, and increased bullying from team members. Absentee leadership creates employee stress, which can lead to poor employee health outcomes and talent drain, which then impact an organization’s bottom line.

Dr. Peter summed up the Peter Principle with a twist on the old adage that "the cream rises to the top" by stating that "the cream rises until it sours." In other words, excellent employee performance is inevitably promoted to the point where the employee's performance is no longer excellent, or even satisfactory. According to the Peter Principle, competence is rewarded with the promotion because competence, in the form of employee output, is noticeable and therefore usually recognized. However, once an employee reaches a position in which they are incompetent, they are no longer evaluated based on their output but instead are evaluated on input factors, such as arriving at work on time and having a good attitude. Dr. Peter further argued that employees tend to remain in positions for which they are incompetent because mere incompetence is rarely sufficient to cause the employee to be fired from the position. Ordinarily, only extreme incompetence causes dismissal. I have found this happens mostly in the C-Suite. Those with the most to lose are usually the last ones to leave

Like the provost in this example, the Harvard Law Review published “that many organizations don’t confront absentee leaders because they have other managers whose behavior is more overtly destructive. Because absentee leaders don’t actively make trouble, their negative impact on organizations can be difficult to detect, and when it is detected, it often is considered a low-priority problem. Thus, absentee leaders are often silent organization killers. Left unchecked, absentee leaders clog an organization’s succession arteries, blocking potentially more effective people from moving into important roles while adding little to productivity. Absentee leaders rarely engage in unforgivable bouts of bad behavior, and are rarely the subject of ethics investigations resulting from employee hotline calls. As a result, their negative effect on organizations accumulates over time, largely unchecked.

If your organization is one of the relatively few with effective selection and promotion methods in place, then it may be able to identify effective and destructive leaders. Even if your organization isn’t great at talent identification, both types of leaders are easy to spot once they are on the job. They also produce predictable organizational outcomes: Constructive leadership creates high engagement and productivity, while destructive leadership kills engagement and productivity. The chances are good, however, that your organization is unaware of its absentee leaders, because they specialize in flying under the radar by not doing anything that attracts attention. Nonetheless, the adhesiveness of their negative impact may be slowly harming the company.”

In 2018, economists Alan Benson, Danielle Li, and Kelly Shue analyzed sales workers' performance and promotion practices at 214 American businesses to test the Peter Principle. They found that companies did indeed tend to promote employees to management positions based on their performance in their previous position, rather than based on managerial potential. Consistent with the Peter Principle, the researchers found that high performing sales employees were likelier to be promoted and that they were likelier to perform poorly as managers, leading to considerable costs to the businesses.

Overcoming the Peter Principle was the path I took to get promotions in my career. I made sure that I was adequately trained, managed people at different levels, and received education in my field in the form of a degree and certifications, so that I was always more than qualified for the position that I was applying. Some may disagree with my method but will be impressed at the outcome.

A possible solution to the problem posed by the Peter Principle is for companies to provide adequate skill training for employees receiving a promotion, and to ensure the training is appropriate for the position to which they have been promoted. However, Dr. Peter pessimistically predicted that even good employee training is ultimately unable to overcome the general tendency of organizations to promote employees to positions of incompetence, which he refers to as positions of "final placement." Promoting people at random has been another proposal, but one which does not always create opportunity for success for the company, it increase risk and liabilities, and never sit well with employees.

For more information on how to improve your Talent Management and Acquisitions contact us at www.administrativeresolutionsnetwork.com

Administrative Resolutions Network, BUSINESS TRAINING SESSIONS, can help your organization develop the skills required to maintain business process effectiveness over the long term. Our approach to Business Process Improvement Training can be tailored to your needs by incorporating modules such as the following:

•Basic Process Improvement Concepts

•Analyzing Common Types of Process Mapping

•Facilitating a Process of Marketing and Branding Concepts Workshop

•Identifying Process Improvement Opportunities

•Implementing the Change Management Process

•Monitoring Process Improvement Effectiveness

[livasoar]

Let’s get personal!

1: 6 of the songs/artists/bands you listen to most? Red Hot Chili Peppers, Blink-182, Real Friends, This Wild Life, Gideon & Green Day

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be? I want to meet my half-brother, I just don’t know if he would want to meet me.

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17. “First of all, I told my mom I would never cry when people left the show...”

4: What do you think about most? Too many things.

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say? “What’s happening?”

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on? With

7: What’s your strangest talent? I don’t think I’ve discovered it yet.

8: Girls… (finish the sentence) rule?; Boys… (finish the sentence)drool?

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you? Yes, I have.

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar? I don’t usually do that.

11: Do you have any strange phobias? Trypophobia; look it up.

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose? Yes, when I was younger

13: What’s your religion? I don’t have one.

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? Walking, observing my surroundings & taking photo’s.

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it? Behind the camera.

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band? I have a favorite band from every genre; not one single favorite. But if I really have to choose, I’d say Real Friends

17: What was the last lie you told? I told my grandma that I didn’t get another tattoo, when I actually did.

18: Do you believe in karma? Indeed.

19: What does your URL mean? It was just an old nickname I had in middle school.

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength? Greatest weakness, I hate feeling forced or pressured to do something. Greatest strength, having control of things in my life.

21: Who are your celebrity crushes? Jesse McCartney, Taron Egerton & Chloe Grace Moretz 

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping? Nope

23: How do you vent your anger? I don’t usually get angry a lot, but when I do I cry.

24: Do you have a collection of anything? I used to collect buttons as a kid. Now I collect crystals & rocks.

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online? It depends on who I’m talking to. 

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become? Most of the time yes; occasionally no.

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love? I hate the sound of someone grinding their teeth. I love the sound of food cooking haha!

28: What’s your biggest “what if”? What if I’m just wasting my time again?

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens? Yes and yes.

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm. Right arm touches a pillow, left arm touches a table.

31: Smell the air. What do you smell? The roast in the crock pot

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to? I’m not entirely sure, nothing comes to mind.

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast? East Coast

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender? There are so many! Anthony Del Grosso, Tyler Joseph, MGK, Mod Sun...<3

35: To you, what is the meaning of life? Doing what you want and saying what you feel to create your own happiness, regardless of what that looks like to others.

36: Define Art. An expression of happiness, humor, life, love and everything in between; through every individuals eyes. 

37: Do you believe in luck? Eh, more or less.

38: What’s the weather like right now? 20 degrees and snowing!

39: What time is it? 5:45pm

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed? I do drive, I haven’t crashed per-say. But one day about a month ago, it started snowing out of nowhere and the roads got really slippery. My car spun completely around and I ended up on the other side of the road in the ditch. 

41: What was the last book you read? “The Summer I Turned Pretty”

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline? Yuck, no. Diesel is fine though

43: Do you have any nicknames? Yes; Liv, Livie & Bee to name a few

44: What was the last film you saw? Underworld: Blood Wars

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had? An almost broken hand?

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly? Yes

47: Do you have any obsessions right now? I’ve always been obsessed with decorating.

48: What’s your sexual orientation? Bisexual 

49: Ever had a rumor spread about you? Yup

50: Do you believe in magic? Oh yes

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong? Yes I do

52: What is your astrological sign? Virgo

53: Do you save money or spend it? A little bit of both

54: What’s the last thing you purchased? Dinner at Cracker barrel 

55: Love or lust? Love

56: In a relationship? No I am not.

57: How many relationships have you had? 5

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue? Some days I can, some days I can’t. It’s weird lol

59: Where were you yesterday? Home, my mom’s, America’s Best, Price Chopper and Cracker Barrel.

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you? If there is, I can’t see it.

61: Are you wearing socks right now? Yes

62: What’s your favorite animal? An octopus

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you? I don’t go out of my way to get someone to like me. I just like to be myself and see who comes my way. 

64: Where is your best friend? Living in Florida.

65: Give me your top 5 favorite blogs on Tumblr. I don’t know.

66: What is your heritage? I’m American, my mom is Scottish.

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM? Talking to Eric.

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name? Sawyer

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off? Yeah

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend? I think so.

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do? You’re nuts if you think that I’d jump in the canal after it. I’m not trying to be a hero. I’d call police and let them take care of it.

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid? I would tell my best friend, no one else. I would live everyday as I normally would, I would try to maybe even travel. I don’t think I would be afraid. 

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love. Trust

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it? Ooo there are so many. Hmm... “Out Of Her Mind” - Blink-182 or “One Week” - Barenaked Ladies

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number? 8893

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship? Trust, openness, communication, honesty and doing everything wholeheartedly 

77: How can I win your heart? Everything in my answer to #76, plus pizza.

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity? In a sense, yes.

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far? Letting go of the things in the past.

80: What size shoes do you wear? Usually 9, depending on the shoe.

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone? I’m going to be cremated, not buried. But if I did have a tombstone it would probably say something about coffee or pizza!

82: What is your favorite word? Rad

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart. “Of Gold”

84: What is a saying you say a lot? “Okie dokie” 

85: What’s the last song you listened to? Santeria - Sublime

86: Basic question; what’s your favorite color? Purple

87: What is your current desktop picture? A purple patterned background

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be? Donald Trump

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on? There aren’t any, there is no point in lying.

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do? Tell them to leave, or offer them some food.

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power? The ability to read minds

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again? Doing something fun with my grandpa.

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? Something that happened like 4 years ago, I’m not gonna go into details though.

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be? Hm, I don’t know...

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go? I would either go to Florida to visit Jonathon or to England to meet my family on my mom’s side.

96: Do you have any relatives in jail? Not that I’m aware of.

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car? Yepper

98: Ever been on a plane? Yes

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say? I don’t have anything to say that I would want the whole world to hear.