#when one would rightfully assume I am not conscious

[trans-xianxian]

I hate moving but I can nawt Wait to be out of this apartment 😭

[barnabyleeofslytherin]

Now I know this one'll come as a shock to everyone(haha), but I don't post on this blog much anymore. And I know very well that I don't owe any of you apologies or really explanations for that manner, since, as I'm sure you're all aware, JKR isn't a very good person, and it's reasonable to assume that, many people would wanna distance themselves from her and her work after some not-so-recent thing's she's said and done.

But I would still like to simply come out and generally share the reasons why I'm not quite as active on this blog as I may once have been. I'm on mobile and I haven't slept for about 24 hours(it's around 6am), so I apologise for mistakes and formatting;

First and foremost, I, the Mod, am a gay man. I had started this blog almost as soon as Hogwarts mystery came out (some time around May of 2018 iirc, when I was graduating highschool), and back then I was maybe one of a small handful of gay men in the entire fandom. Back then, being what felt to me, like the only gay man surrounded by a sea of heterosexual and bisexual women felt very alienating to me. I had wanted to interact with people who, like me, were also gay men. I was happy to interact with people who viewed themselves to be women too, of course, but I was often made uncomfortable by these individuals due in part to them being very pushy towards me about how they wanted to date Barnaby.

Second, I'm a Trangender Man. Regardless of if JKR really actively despises my specific group in the transgender community or not, isn't up for debate. She's expressed her opinions on Trans Women, and I stand with my trans siblings(the transgender version of TERFS excluded, I believe they're called Transmeds?) Because of this, I cannot in good conscious, continue to support JRK or the Hogwarts franchise as a whole.

Third, I'm in my early 20s now. When I made this blog, I was a few months off of graduating high school, and a whopping 17 years of age. I'm going to be 21 in less than a month, and I wholeheartedly believe Barnaby and Co. to be children. Hell, they're around 16 in the game now last I'd heard, and while the legal age of consent in Alberta Canada states that 16 year olds can date up to 5 years older, I still cannot force myself to see these children as anything but children. I've lived a lot more life since I first played the game, there's such a gap of life experience between me and an 18 year old of today. These kids are barely older than my little brother. And with there being so much focus on the romantic aspect of the game(again, from what I've seen), I can't comfortably continue playing. (<- Read through it again and I wanna add on to this, I just do not find children attractive in the slightest, as I'm a normal person, who rightfully hates p*dos, and I will block anyone who claims it's okay to be romantically attracted to a child. From a survivor of childhood s*xual ab*se, it's not okay.)

Fourth, my interests and life have changed a lot since I was 17. I'm not interested in Harry Potter anymore, I'm not interested in working with animals anymore. I still love animals, but it's not a career path I want to work. I'm hoping to be a Certified Embalmer within the next year and a half. I just want to pursue adulthood, and become healthy again. I'd even started seeing a therapist before the pandemic to work though my survivors guilt and more. There's a new addition to my family coming later this July(child of my cousin), and one of my Uncles was found dead at 35 literally yesterday (June 20th 2021). I need to be here for my family, and running this blog when I was still active had become a chore.

Sometimes when I get a new notification from this blog, I'll consider deleting it, but this blog was a major part of who I was for about a year. I don't want to just delete it and act as though Harry Potter and the blog weren't major parts of my life, because they were, but they aren't anymore. I plan to leave this blog up, but not use it anymore, as I'd been doing for however many months by now. I will still follow some of my old friends who I'd met through the fandom, because I appreciate the friendship they provided me.

Thank you for bearing with the bone tired, and likely nonsensical ramblings of an almost 21 year old ex-RPer. I mean no harm nor offence to anyone with this post (except jkr) and I genuinely wish everyone still here all the best.

I will be scheduling this post to repost every 6 hours for the rest of today and tomorrow (June 21-22), sorry if it clogs your dashes, I'll tag it with "Scheduled post" for you to block.

~Mod Bennett, the only mod of this blog.

[sepublic]

Luz’s Self-Punishment?

           I actually think that like Lilith, Luz has a tendency to overtly punish herself for mistakes, she’s just… WAY more productive and efficient about actually fixing the situation, even at the cost of herself- Maybe even especially because of it!

           I say this because Luz makes the understandable mistake of crashing Owlbert, who was fully willing to indulge in Luz’s antics during Escape of the Palisman by taking her to the Glandus game. And obviously Owlbert is also justifiably hurt and maybe reluctant to reconnect with Luz… But it’s also worth observing that Luz is clearly beating herself up mentally over her mistake, she doesn’t hesitate to throw herself into the Bat Queen’s trials and even risk her life to rescue Owlbert!

           And, obviously- Luz is a very impulsive kind of person in general, incredibly brave, and would do anything for her friends. But I am concerned about Luz possibly beginning to see herself as like, a burden, or even someone who keeps hurting people even when she tries to help them… Especially when they tell her not to. Take for example, Luz turning Willow’s memory photo back up because she still wants her and Amity to reconnect… and it leads to Willow’s mind almost being destroyed. Luz’s efforts DO pay off in the end; However, Wing it like Witches has Luz recklessly challenge Boscha to a Grudgby game, over Willow’s honor.

           That’s fine as it is… But the problem is that Luz says that Willow is challenging Boscha. And I think this is a scenario where Luz legit thought she was doing what was best for Willow, that this was of course what Willow wanted… And while she was justifiably mad, I think Luz may have projected some of her own anger onto Willow by assuming she felt the same way, while also seeing an opportunity to play out her Azura fantasies through a Grudgby match; Hence why moments before Boscha drops trash on Willow, Luz looks VERY intrigued by Amity pointing out that Boscha only listens to Grudgby… Amity wasn’t at all suggesting Luz challenge her to a game, but Luz is remembering that Azura movie she brought up earlier, and getting ideas.

           So when Luz does recognize she made a mistake… I think she’s just a tad too eager to both take on ALL of the responsibility and repercussions, but also doesn’t do too much to vouch for herself when Boscha starts attacking. Now, you could argue that this is just Luz being kind of impulsive and thoughtless, not thinking of herself in a genuinely forgetful way, while also not anticipating Boscha to be THAT intense; But I have to wonder if Luz will sometimes shoulder the blame and burden of her mistakes too much. Just as Amity did when she cut herself off from Grudgby after accidentally injuring Boscha and Amelia that one time… And it’s interesting that Luz is inspired to take all of the blame after Amity recounts this story; And it’s Amity who realizes what’s up and thus goes out to get Willow’s help.

           Or, take Witches before Wizards! Luz enrolls in Adegast’s Quest, wanting to play out her fantasies, and does so on her own, on her own terms… Ideally only Luz should be in danger, if any comes around; And yet Eda and King still get involved to rescue Luz, and Luz finds out that her getting into this quest was what endangered them in the first place, because she was meant to be a hostage! Then we have Agony of a Witch; Eda tells Luz to just mind her own business and be happy, and not concern herself. But not only is Luz legit scared for Eda… She also expresses a desire to ‘pay her back’, as if Luz thinks the happiness she provides isn’t enough. As if Luz feels she’s inadequate, perhaps a burden…

           Which, matches with Luz being the child of Camila, who’s single and occupied with the VERY time-intensive job of being a nurse, and is already stressful as-is. I think Luz quietly taught herself to not try to be a burdern on Camila… Or at least thought that was what she became, when her mother agreed to send her to Reality Camp. This is her mom, who objectively loves her and is supposed to, and likely was the only one supporting and indulging in Luz’s interests for her entire life. So when Luz DOES meet Eda and King, Willow and Gus, or Amity… While she’s still very much herself in a lot of ways, an utter weirdo and a cryptid;

           I AM concerned that Luz is going to be too conscious of the impact she has on others, a bit too much. She went ahead with trying to help Eda’s curse despite Eda telling her not to… And it led to a disastrous heist at Belos’ castle that led to Eda being captured and losing all of her magic, permanently. Luz let Willow and Gus help her in the heist, and they got in trouble as well… And I’m afraid that maybe Luz is beginning to think that any time she tries to help others, she just makes things worse. And/or, Luz feels like she should do things on her own so her loved ones don’t get involved… But even when she tries to in Witches before Wizards, her actions directly lead to Eda and King being captured.

           Am I saying Luz is a bad or thoughtless person? Absolutely not- She can be a bonehead sometimes, but all of her mistakes are completely understandable. Luz needs to remember that a lot of her friends chose to get involved for Luz’s sake, they mutually care for her and vice-versa, she is by no means a burden and her own presence lights up their world. Eda reassures Luz that she chose to sacrifice herself for the girl, and hopefully the advice will stick there… But even so, Luz is a fourteen-year-old who was ostracized for a LONG time.

          She’s no doubt been conditioned to think of herself as a screw-up who hurts people… Hurts her mother by lying to her, Luz should’ve been honest when she had the chance; Hurting Amity by accidentally reading her diary when she just wanted to be friends… Making a statement that Viney and the others justifiably take out-of-context, but Luz interprets this not just as Viney and the others being valid in their initial fears; She thinks it means she HAS done wrong and hurt people, and so she accepts Viney’s rejection without a second thought and really lets it get to her.

           I’ve seen others speculate that Luz has Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, and I really think this could be the case? Luz normally is herself, but lately, when things suggest otherwise… Luz starts to doubt her world-views, at least in application to herself- For others she’ll always vouch for them! But it takes a lot to love oneself… Take for example, Luz clearly berating herself for being too forward with Amity when she tries to initially approach her in Lost in Language, perhaps acting on some confirmation bias; That if Luz fails, then clearly this means she shouldn’t have tried in the first place, and of course nobody is interested in her.

           Luz knows to unapologetically be herself and encourage others to, and then fully support them… But does she expect a lot of support herself? Is Luz resigned to the idea of being rejected either way, so she just goes ahead with who she is… And just waits to see what people DO respond to her, without getting her hopes up? Luz gives it a try, see what happens- And if they don’t respond, alas. If they DO respond… New friend, and Luz can get a bit carried away. Like her plan for Willow to sneak into Hexside and get a better grade… Luz was also legitimately altruistic, but I certainly hope that Luz doesn’t blame herself for getting Willow into trouble, especially since Willow ended up in the Plant Track because of her. Like Eda, Luz has accepted being herself unapologetically and not needing the approval of others- But Eda was also clearly lonely for a while too, having to wait for fellow weirdoes to resonate with her and reciprocate. For Luz, I imagine it’s a very different scenario with just passively waiting for someone to respond to your open invitations about who you are…

           …VS actively WANTING someone, wanting them to accept you, etc., hence Luz’s apprehension about confessing to Camila. And maybe this could lead to some dynamic between her and Amity, where Luz doesn’t know how to handle actively desiring a connection with a specific person that may or may not fully reciprocate her… Luz loves intensely and affectionately and she focuses on making others happy so they don’t suffer like her; Is there the fear, the resignation that they won’t return the same? And that’s okay because they’re already doing so much for Luz just by tolerating a screw-up like her and her mistakes…? Coupled with how stressed Amity is and the abuse she has, and Luz might be afraid that Amity won’t ever feel the same way- So Luz should just be content with what she has, and then not move forward. Don’t get her hopes up.

           Believe me, I don’t find this at all contradictory with my past takes of Luz as being someone who constantly asks why can’t she have it all, both for herself and others… I think she’s rightfully defiant and demanding in that self-respecting way, thanks to Eda especially. But when it comes to emotional love and whatnot, that kind of intimate connection, unconditional kindness and favors… I’m not sure if Luz ever expects that from others, nor does she ask it of them? It’s of course because she’s so kind and selfless towards people, her own demands and challenges towards the system are also into consideration of others just like her.

           But maybe it’s because Luz is partially demanding because she sees it as helping others in a roundabout way… Or she’s only ever like this with strangers, with people she expects to already not think much of her, to not accept her, so Luz doesn’t have too much qualms with trying to be all perfect and subdued for them… But for people who DO accept Luz, it suddenly feels like a lot of pressure and responsibility, because she’s not used to this. She doesn’t want to screw it up, making friends who like her, because this is so rare, and it requires a lot more mutual reciprocation from others, VS an attempt to change the system or fight against the law, cause a prison break, etc.

           Luz seems like the person who can handle learning a lost form of magic, fighting monstrous demons, all that jazz incredibly well; But when it comes to navigating actual emotional relationships, Luz has a lot more difficult navigating. Sometimes she copes with her fear by just going for it, sometimes she forgets about it entirely in her eager excitement, getting her hopes up… But in general, I don’t want Luz to think that she actively causes trouble for people, and that she hasn’t done enough to deserve the people who actively choose to be around her; Much less Luz’s potential apprehension about not being enough for someone she ‘forces’ interaction with because she wants to be with them, like Amity. I think Luz’s growing mistakes and incidents could contribute towards a growing sense of being a screw-up in her own way… And when you’re an insecure teen, you tend to forget about and disregard your good actions in hindsight, even as you’re performing them.

           While Luz’s efforts do sometimes pay off, it’s usually after something goes wrong and everyone grapples with the situation. Sometimes Luz has to wonder if it could’ve been done in a much better way, and if her friends had to do too much heavy-lifting to make things right, to pick up after Luz’s mess- Like maybe her friends could’ve just fixed this on their own, it was only Luz getting into a mess that made them get involved sooner rather than later. The thing about Luz’s mistakes is that a lot of them are understandable, or while bad, nevertheless escalate past a point she could’ve feasibly expected, so maybe she’s being too hard on herself for the consequences.

           I think Lilith is someone who also has an issue with this, as does King- And both have learned to confront that they cause messes that they didn’t intend, but still contributed towards. Of course, King is way more adjusted than Lily… And I can see Lilith and Luz potentially bonding over that feeling of being ‘cursed’, like any attempt to make things better for others just causes problems… And they’re already so much of a liability and a burden as-is. Even when they do things alone and for themselves, issues for their loved ones can develop as a direct result… So maybe they should just cut ties? To protect the ones they care for… Besides, their loved ones probably don’t need them THAT much anyway, their friends are too cool for losers like them.

           I kind of feel like Luz and Lilith could have a potential issue of really undervaluing themselves and their achievements… That when they do bring them up, they don’t really mean it and it’s just a shallow attempt at making themselves feel good- But deep inside they know it means nothing. Lilith knows that being Head Witch of the Emperor’s Coven means nothing, not without Eda’s approval, and especially because she got it as a hand-me-down from Eda… But she still boasts of it anyway to invite other witches, and to lie to herself. If Eda contrasts with Lilith and can teach her sister to engage in some self-love… Then consider that Eda does the same to Luz; And what this could say about Luz and Lilith as two people on the receiving end of Eda’s support, who have a lot to learn and benefit from Eda and already have.

           Maybe Luz expects herself to do a lot, because she recognizes that she IS a lot… So she tries to take advantage of this, and tries to compensate for past failures, by doing something good with it. This isn’t to say that Luz never acts in her self-interest, ever, because she’s still a fourteen-year-old kid with a loving and supportive family, who’s allowed to have fun and has still had genuinely positive lessons and growth in the Boiling Isles… Any issues she suffers in the Boiling Isles, if Luz gets them, would’ve been less worse than that of the Reality Camp, minus the physical harm bit of course. But that doesn’t seem to register to Luz that much because that’s not what really matters to her in the end.

           Regardless, I’m afraid that Luz is going to pick up on the idea that each time she innocently tries to go forward and do something for herself and/or others, without their permission… It just makes things worse, forcing others to not only fix the problem, but also make things better so Luz doesn’t mess up again. In other words, Luz probably thinks her friends are doing all of the actual work in making things better, which could play into how Luz thinks the world of her loved ones and is incredibly supportive of them. Perhaps she thinks they’re way cooler than her, too cool for Luz… It’s not too much of a prevalent issue NOW, I think, but it could be in the future. Luz could begin to wean herself off from doing what she enjoys, just for herself, because she thinks she’s a screw-up…

          And then her friends have to reassure her otherwise about everything, that even if Luz seems to be a disaster-magnet, it’s part of the charm and not her fault, she shouldn’t hold herself back! If anything, Luz should keep weaponizing her chaotic energy, making the most of what she has as always! Considering the school system that Luz grew up in, and how she’s ND-coded… I wouldn’t be surprised if a lot of schools really punished her and forced Luz to dwell a lot on her mistakes, without much room for productively fixing things; It’s a common neurodivergent experience to be unproductively yelled at for messing up, and then to internalize that. And it could contribute to Luz focusing on what she’s done wrong over what she’s done right. If Amity is learning to love herself, then… I sincerely hope Luz isn’t contrasting, by learning to doubt herself. Especially since the Boiling Isles has been almost objectively superior to the Reality Camp; Because there, she would’ve REALLY internalized even worse lessons, and not gained any of the good ones.

           Now, maybe I’m looking too deep into it; But hey, what if I’m right? At the very least this provides food for thought… You may as well take a chance, because what do you have to lose if you’re wrong- Nothing! But if you don’t try, you could lose the opportunity to really think and enjoy and anticipate something… And be right, or wrong- Either way you had fun!

[ruakichan]

Self-vent ahead!

I hate being “a creative.”

I’ve been drawing for about thirty years, most of that in fandom, and it’s utterly, hopelessly de-motivating to see that nothing has actually come from all that time. (Is this my mid-life crisis lol?)  No improvement, no following, I couldn’t even make money off my work if I tried (still living off my savings right now, for those that are aware I quit my job during the rona shutdown), no sense of lingering pride or accomplishment when I manage to squash down the loathing enough to finish a piece. I’ve watched my artist friends rightfully gain traction and blossom, while I shrivel.

All those pretty little puff pieces you see about how “work hard to improve!” have absolutely no idea what it’s like to be in the stratum known as complete banal mediocrity. You hit a wall that no amount of “working hard” can overcome: the wall that separates the talented from the hacks.

And squished right against that wall are the mediocre: good but not good enough. Only noticed because maybe they fill some niche until someone better comes along. They throw themselves against that wall in hopes of overcoming it, but never look up to see how high it really is.

A bad artist will always improve. A mediocre one just suffers diminishing returns.

My best friend, with good intentions, got me a very nice Cintiq for Christmas. He spent a lot of money he really shouldn’t have. He’s a “creative” too, so he understood some of what I was going through, and thought this would cheer me up, give me a boost. Thought maybe it was my outdated tools (over a decade old) was holding me back.

I accepted it because he was very proud of his grand gesture, but I wish he didn’t. I feel obligated to use it, to draw, to be continually disappointed, to continue to disappoint others. And on the rare occasion I do something I am pleased with the final product of, I hate it so, so very much the next day, and the masses agree, as the reception is silent.

Being an artist inherently has a streak of exhibitionism: what you draw is a reflection of your thoughts and perception of the subject matter, and when you post it publicly, you are asking for validation of that image.  Being able to appeal to a broad spectrum of people is a talent on its own: any popular meme or illustration becomes that way because people go, “yes, I can relate!” in some fashion. Empathy is incredibly important in any creative work.

But when the reception is silent, it’s hard to tell where it is you failed: the subject matter? the appeal? the skill level? everything? Do I fail at connecting with people despite being able to do it very well IRL? Is my art style just that unattractive? Is it my skill level, flat and uninspiring?

I know what I hate about my work (everything), but I don’t know what causes others to recoil from it, except to maybe give a pitying glance over but not enough to go ‘yes, I can relate!” and share it with others. So I can only assume it’s for the same reasons why I hate it: everything.

Perhaps my loathing for my art comes through in the image, which in turn elicits a similar reaction in others. I feel ‘this is ugly’ and others pick up on that and react in kind.  There’s something to be said about how people can pick up on your body language and confidence in face-to-face conversation; perhaps this is the same with art. But what about the work I do that I’m proud of, which gets even less reception?

During the initial drawing process, I do very much love art. I do like the act of ‘creating.’ I’m happiest during this point; I like brainstorming or daydreaming, doodling and laughing at my own bad jokes. But the longer I stay with a piece of work, the more critically I look at it, and the more ashamed I am of wasting my time with something that no one can love, not even me. There’s a lot of work I just never finished; there’s a lot of work I just flat out deleted from existence. I’ve been trying not to do this; try to at least post something, finish something, acknowledge that even flawed things have merit, but holy hell, it gets so depressing seeing these malformed things out there in the wild, even if no one else sees them.

When I was first starting out, I didn’t have these sort of thoughts, eagerly, lovingly drawing, proud of every single doodle, sharing them with anyone that would cast a glance my way.  When you’re fresh and naive, you don’t realize how personal art is until you get rejected enough to start to become self-aware of your own flaws: like how children can be so unabashedly carefree while adults are acutely self-conscious.

Lately, I hate admitting I draw. I don’t like sharing my art freely. Even the brief moment I got validated—being a winner in some contest for some game—I immediately wished I could take that image away so people wouldn’t see it cause I threw it together to get the participation prize.  “This isn’t representative of what I can do!”  ... but maybe it is.  After all, it won, where others I labored over haven’t.

Social media definitely hasn’t helped in this day and age, where you’re aggressively bombarded with how well you succeeded or failed.  I shut down my Twitter for this reason; it was absolutely soul-crushing to see anything I do die in the ether, because I wasn’t good enough. All these followers, but no response?   It’s better just to hide them under the bed, than look at your own failures.

So now I spend a lot of time going “why bother” when it comes to creative endeavors as I try to come to some final acceptance of my own mediocrity.

Why bother?

The images are prettier in my head.  They don’t need to be realized because I can’t convey them in a worthy manner that people would want to see. If after nearly 3 decades, I haven’t been able to surmount that wall, I need to accept that this is the end of the road.

Why bother indeed? There are many more talented, able artists to provide beautiful works.  I want to freely consume them without thinking about where I failed.  I can only look at art in areas I don’t draw in; it’s the only way I don’t immediately want to break my own hands.

Anyway, long vent, but it’s been building up since I got that Cintiq. I don’t talk about this much because people hate hearing about it. They don’t want to see your anxieties.  You have to be *~strong~* and *~confident~* as an artist, and it’s “”””””cringe””””””” to have any doubts about yourself. They don’t want to see “I’m not happy with this, but here it is” attached to something you did. They call it “fishing for compliments,” without realizing there’s a lot of baggage attached to a lot of artwork that they, as the viewer, don’t see.

That when artists post art, they are literally putting themselves up on display. They wonder where they can improve in their work, they wonder about the reaction to their art.  These things don’t exist in a vacuum, independent of each other.  Art is inherently exhibitionist.

It’s why I’m the least suited for it, and I wish I could go back in time and tell my younger self to go collect stamps or something. What a waste of a life.

[trillhouse-lh]

Mask

The Avenue. One of the most prestigious clubs in Great Lake City, a local legend in the nightlife scene. Those who weren't living it up on the dance floor mingled near the bars, combatting the pulsing music with casual conversation and laughter. The atmosphere, as always, was electric; to one man however, it was little more than an annoyance. Just endless, meaningless noise.

He kept his distance from the throngs of partiers, seated at a booth with a glass of scotch-Johnnie Walker Blue Label, at $65 a shot-which he sipped at slowly, looking out upon the herd with disinterest. Practically attached to his side was a younger woman, a blonde bombshell of the caliber that most men would kill for. Young, shapely body, luscious lips, tight sequined dress that left little to the imagination… and of course, a head full of air. She leaned into the man's side, checking herself in a pocket mirror and freshening up her cherry-red lipstick. Once she was sure she looked perfect, she closed the mirror with a snap and placed it in her pocket book.

"I wanna dance," She said. Her boyfriend didn't respond, nor did he give any sort of indication that he'd heard her at all. The woman frowned and gave his arm a little tug. "Babe, I wanna dance."

"I heard you the first time," The man grunted. "I'm not in the mood." His companion gave an almost childish pout.

"But I am. You promised we could dance…"

"Later, then." He said cooly. The woman sighed and crossed her arms, giving the busy dance floor a longing gaze. The man didn't care. He simply sipped his drink, his attention focused nowhere in particular. Most would assume that his pensive stare was that of a man lost in thought, but that was far from the case… he was simply existing, present in body but not in mind, barely even cognizant of the beautiful woman latched to his side. She was meaningless to him, after all; just another idiotic young tart barely out of high school, all too happy to leech off an older, wealthier man rather than make something of herself. She was no different from those who had come before, nor those who would come after. Good for a bit of fun and nothing else… to be used and then discarded once he'd had his fill.

A toy. Nothing more than that.

"Babe, come on," She huffed, giving his arm another tug. "It's a nightclub! Are you really going to just sit here all night?"

"I said, no."

"But I'm bored!" The young woman whined; it was clear from her tone that she was starting to get frustrated with her boyfriend. "I want to dance now-"

"Go, then." He said plainly. "I'm not stopping you."

"Ugh!" She scoffed and turned away from the man. "You've been a real jerk lately, you know that?!" She waited for a response, but received little more than a vague grunt of irritation. "...Fine. Fine!" She snapped, pulling away and sliding out of the booth. "I'll go dance by myself, then. Come find me when you're ready to stop being-"

"Won't be necessary," The man cut in, leaving her words to die on her lips. "You go right ahead and enjoy yourself. I trust you'll be able to find someone looking for an easy fuck." She stared at her boyfriend in disbelief, as though she'd somehow misheard the man's words.

"E-excuse me…?!"

"Do I need to simplify it for you?" He muttered. "I'm tired of you. Fuck. Off." The woman glared at him in silence, her body quaking in indignant rage. Nobody had spoken to her like that before… what man in their right mind would reject her? She grit her teeth and reeled back, her palm open to deliver a forceful slap.

The man caught her by the wrist without even looking.

"Ow!" The woman hissed, trying to pull away from the man, but he didn't loosen his grip in the slightest. On the contrary, he only squeezed tighter, so tight that the woman swore she could feel her bones creaking. "Y-you're hurting me," She gasped. "L-let me-" Her protests faded to a faint croak as, for the first time since they'd arrived that night, the man looked her in the eye. His gaze was cold, empty, devoid of life… as though there were simply nothing behind those gray eyes. No compassion. No anger. Nothing. It felt like he was staring into her soul, daring her to make a scene. Finally he let go and the woman grasped her aching wrist, shrinking back under his icy gaze. She lingered only a moment before her lip started trembling and she turned, hurrying off to God knows where. Not that he cared; he simply scoffed as she ran away, and with that little annoyance dealt with he turned his focus back to the crowd. None seemed to have noticed what happened, or at the very least if they did they knew better than to do anything about it.

With that, the man simply continued sipping his drink as though nothing had happened at all. It was nothing new, after all… he'd kicked far, far better women than she to the curb before, and he had no doubt he'd do so again. It was all part of the game, and it was a game he knew how to play better than damn near anyone.

It was also a game that he'd grown tired of as of late.

He'd learned from a young age that the world's pleasures belonged to those willing to take them. It was something his father had quite literally hammered into his skull as a child… in truth the sole thing he was grateful to the piece of shit for. The strong came out on top, while the weak were rightfully trampled underfoot. So he became strong. He rose to the top while his father fell to the bottom… meeting his end at the bottom of a staircase, his neck broken after the drunk bastard took a tumble.

A tragic accident, of course.

Since then, he had come to live by those words. He rose to his station. Money, power, good looks, women, he had it all. That which wasn't given he was all too happy to take. Those who challenged him would soon come to regret it. And yet, through it all, he maintained his public image… that of a legitimate businessman, gentleman, and generous philanthropist. Because he knew how to play the game. He knew how to get what he wanted, and was willing to wear whatever mask he needed to do so. As such, winning over brain-dead bimbos like her was child's play. And much like a child's plaything, he was growing increasingly bored. Perhaps it was time to mix things up a bit.

The man scanned the crowd, his lifeless gray eyes flicking between the offerings with little apparent interest. The club attracted a fairly diverse crowd, from young to mature to everything in between. Some were there with friends, others to meet new people, and of course there were those just looking for some company for the night… hussies, as far as he was concerned. He had little time for them.

...Oh?

The man stopped, his gaze lingering on one figure in particular. He could see her through the crowd, standing at the bar in an attractive blue dress and a lovely pearl necklace. She seemed to be glancing around, as though looking for someone, and as she turned her head he took a moment to study her face. She was a beautiful woman, not too old nor too young; her makeup, while tastefully applied, was just excessive enough that it was clear she had something to hide. No doubt she was starting to show her age and feeling particularly self-conscious about it.

Next, her body language: she was shifting in place anxiously and looking around, chewing her lower lip with a forlorn expression. She was upset, clearly. Her hands? No ring. Unmarried and aging, how sad. Her drink? Cranberry juice, from the look of it… not a drinker. Recovering, perhaps. Still, very peculiar for a non-drinker to be standing around at a bar unaccompanied. Perhaps she was waiting for some friends to return? No… she looked too upset for that. Nearly heartbroken, in fact. As if to confirm his suspicions the woman took out her phone and checked the time, taking another futile look among the crowd before sadly putting it away. Though his expression remained impassive as ever, his mind got to work piecing together the puzzle. This woman intrigued him. He would have her. And in a matter of seconds, he'd worked out how. With that, he polished off his drink and slid out from the booth, flexing his neck before straightening out his posture. As he weaved his way through the crowd, politely apologizing to those around him, his lips curled back in a friendly smile and his glare softened into a gentle gaze that made his cold grey eyes almost seem like a sparkling blue under the lights.

He put on the mask.

The downtrodden woman stared idly into her glass, lightly swirling it and watching the cranberry juice ripple within. She should have known this would happen… he'd been so non-committal when they'd set things up, but she'd been foolish enough to convince herself things would be different this time. Well, no point in lingering here alone… she may as well pay for her drink and head home to drown her sorrows in a pint of ice cream. She tried getting the bartender's attention, only for some red-headed seductress to call him over for another round. The woman sighed again and took a sip of her cranberry juice. Typical.

"Guy stood you up, huh?" The woman was snapped from her self-pity by a low voice beside her. She glanced over, finding a stunningly handsome man leaning on the bar. He was tall and barrel-chested, with perfectly-styled blonde hair and a strong jawline. Clean-shaven. Well-dressed. Million-dollar smile. For a moment, she was simply taken aback by his sudden appearance,

"I… excuse me…?" The man raised his palm and let out a chuckle.

"Sorry if I'm being presumptuous. You just looked like you could use some company, that's all," He said. "I'd offer to buy you a drink, but…" He flicked his eyes towards the cranberry juice, and the woman seemed to snap out of her stupor.

"Oh, um… n-no, it's quite alright," She said with a small smile. "You're not wrong. On either front, sadly." The man frowned and shook his head in empathy.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Can't say I haven't been there myself…" He muttered before that charming smile appeared once more. "Well, if it's not too bold of me to say, anyone who would leave a woman like you hanging must be out of their damn mind." The man shot her a wink and her cheeks flushed a light pink.

"Oh, stop…" The woman said, giggling into her palm. The man chuckled again. She took a moment to study him, taking in his chiseled features and masculine physique. He almost felt like a model straight out of GQ, the epitome of class in addition to his naturally good looks. Not to mention that he seemed to be an absolute gentleman to boot… and, perhaps most importantly, he seemed interested. She averted her eyes and took another sip of her drink, her cheeks reddening by the second.

"You know…" The man said as he pushed away from the bar and glanced over towards the dance floor. "I may not be the guy you're here to meet, but-"

"Yes," The woman blurted out, to her chagrin; she clammed up as the man looked back at her with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk, and cleared her throat before continuing. "I-I mean… I'd love to dance, if you're offering." The gentleman smiled and gave a small nod.

"It would be my privilege. Shall we, miss…?"

"Lori. Lori Loud." She said with a bashful smile, extending her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you…"

"Chester Richards." The man said with a broad, gleaming smile. He took her hand gingerly and gave it a gentle shake. "The pleasure's all mine."

[sotorubio]

Thank you so much for answering in depth but omg I totally forgot that Alexia and Arthur were a main couple. I completely repressed that. Yeah also not a good couple because of the cheating. I didn't left them out intentionally.

I definitely understand all the points you mention and agree!

I don't even remember much of elus conflict in later seasons (haven't watched watched the seasons, just kept an eye on it). I remember there was a lot of drama and a kiss? And misscommunication I think. Have the grown from it?

And I am also not that on the Basile Hype train. But he is a good bf to Daphne.

You probably have talked about it before but do you think the other skams manage their romance better? Like davenzi, crisana..? Especially in concern to if they are a healthy couple etc.

Would you consider all evaks instalove? Because their relationship is very fast moving forward?

OMG ANON RELATABLE we should all repress the hell out of alexia & arthur lbr smdjskjd n don't worry i didn't think they were intentionally left out i just assumed they weren't worth mentioning smhflshdkd

understandable! the main conflict w elu esp in s6 was lucas being a bit hostile toward lola while eliott was friends w her, he was "jealous" & afraid lola n eliott would "drag each other down" bc they're both mentally ill, that was a looot of drama (which is a whole another convo abt the ableism of the situation...) also lucas was self conscious in arthur's season bc "eliott has more options" & eliott had a weird speech abt ✨acceptable cheating✨ which was kind of a inner conflict for Lucas but we never saw eliott's reaction to that as far as i know. which was actually the main problem all these would've been great talking points but they were all "solved" (aka everything was suddenly fine n it was never mentioned again) off-screen, so have they grown from it? well that's the message the show wanted to send but we literally never saw them grow or even solve these things so.. also somehow the kiss did in fact exist but was a none issue bc i guess eliott kissing underage girls is just fine by lucas 😗

i definitely think the other remakes (at least españa w viri x hugo, norandro & crisana and druck's couples especially davenzi) have much better development on that part & most importantly they maintain those relationships well! my favorite example is the problems cris n joana have continued to have irt joana's MI bc they show that it's not always easy n they r a complex couple but they present it so healthy! cris never blames joana or tries to baby her but is still rightfully frustrated when things r hard. we see their relationship on the side but it isn't reduced to that lovey dovey utopia where nothing is never wrong + when things r wrong we get all the necessary information via the main character that cris is friends with (amira or nora depending on the season) or through the social media, which means the conflict solving is clear n thorough. we don't have to guess if they're still fighting or how they managed to make up! this is mostly bc the conflicts r kept realistic n down to earth instead of drama seeking "spectacles" for example: joana isn't relapsing out there partying when she shouldn't be n cris doesn't have to pick her up from a police station, instead she just has worse days w her MI which is much more sensible to work through as a couple off screen in a "tell, don't show" kinda way. that doesn't work w bigger, more surprising issues. the healthiness there comes from the fact that the show explicitly states that they have sorted out their problems n alludes to how they did it & when it happened whereas France did. virtually none of that

also for davenzi i might be biased bc they're my fave evak but they definitely seem to have a similarly healthy n developed relationship!! david doesn't have an (established) MI so there aren't as many conflicts related to that but they're both v distinct characters that have a developed personality outside of the relationship. also they r just the perfect example of best-friends-in-love + a realistic teens-experiencing-first-love trope. their season had other issues but i think that the relationship itself definitely wasn't one. it wasn't so much of a ✨soul mates that will endure anything by the force of destiny✨ but more like They're teens who caught feelings for each other n they're a bit confused in their first relationship but they're making it work via communication n care!

also for if all evaks r instalove i think to an extent they r. for example most of them say "i love u" SO early which i don't vibe with at all. and a lot of them have this "meant to be" trope around them from the start instead of just a naturally developing romance. but since the evak season is mainly a romance plot (yes there r other important themes such as internalized homophobia & mental illness but the plot line follows the progress of a romance n it's a central part of the season) it's more understandable to move faster bc u have the time to expand on the relationship n kinda explain the feelings aka the relationship still grows on the audience along the way. but compared to smth like lola's seasons where the central theme is loss of a loved one & addiction, instalove just comes out of nowhere n has no chance to be expanded on since it's not a main theme of the season n has little screen time. this is what usually makes it boring or one dimensional at least for me! but also i'm not trying to rly defend the evak instalove either altho i think there is this difference. like it still pushes me away from og evak & elu a little bit + even crisana at the start of their season even tho i think it's more tolerable & understandable than in other seasons

[viovivii]

Why having a strong dad is IMPORTANT. Every girl needs a strong daddy in their life ❤️ good book. p.s DONT FUCKING BE A DEAD BEAT

this was a good read:

Chapter 1 – You Are the Most Important Man in Her Life

I’ve said this before, but scary. I am also the most important man in my wife’s life, but she was able to make a conscious decision to choose me. Not my girls, they are simply stuck with me!

Meg states that in her practice she has seen many young girls doing terribly unhealthy things to see if their fathers will notice. Young girls crave a father’s attention and love.

Dad’s don’t need to change who they are to be great dads. They need to invest in the relationship and understand what the world is telling your daughters through TV, the internet and their friends. Your job is to protect them from the ugliness that is out there and they naturally look to you to do that.

Next, Meg shares some scary statistics. Here are a few:

What is taught in sex ed. It is ridiculous. Make sure you understand what your school teaches.

One in five Americans over age twelve tests positive for genital herpes.

9% of girls fourteen to seventeen years old experience unwanted sex, primarily because they fear their boyfriends will get angry.

5% of high school girls have had sad, hopeless feelings for longer than 2 weeks. Many physicians call this clinical depression.

6% of Caucasian, 20.7% of Hispanic and 12.4% of African American females have made suicide plans in the last year.

8% of high school students drank alcohol before the age of thirteen.

7% of high school students have used some form of cocaine.

Kids spend 6.5 hours per day watching media of some form.

Kids with TVs in their bedrooms watch 1.5 hours more TV than kids who do not have TVs in their bedrooms. I’m sure this stat would hold true for smartphones.

Meg goes on to cite numerous statistics about how families can win the war against media through strong relationships with their kids. We can win this fight!

Chapter 2 – She Needs a Hero

Despite whatever outward impression she gives, your daughter’ life is centered on discovering what you like about her and what you want from her. She cannot feel good about herself until she knows you feel good about her. She does not want to see you as her equal. She wants you to be her hero. Someone stronger, steadier and smarter than she is.

The only way you will alienate your daughter is by losing her respect by failing to lead or failing to protect her. If you fail to meet her needs, she will find someone who will. That is where all the trouble can begin.

One of the best things you can do as a father is to raise your daughters’ expectations about life. Let her know that she is God’s masterpiece and that she will do great things in this life.

Deep down, we all want authority and rules in our life. We may instinctively want to buck authority, but when our world starts to fall apart, we run to the person who is that authority in our life.

Meg also suggests putting your expectations for your children in writing, now – while they are young. Teenagers are excellent at tangling your thinking. Write down your rules now. Laminate them, carve then into stone

Chapter 3 – You are Her First Love

You are her first love. You have other loves in your life, but she does not. Every man who enters into her life will be compared to you. If you have a good relationship with her and her mom, she will choose boyfriends who will treat her well.

Always be positive. Admire her deep, intrinsic qualities. Always keep the bar high. She will live up to the standards you set.

As she grows older, don’t assume she is capable of making good decisions. Protect her so she is in a safe place to make poor decisions – kids always will make bad decisions. It is how they learn. Enforce curfew. Girls with a curfew know that someone cares and is waiting up for them at home.

Pay attention. Listen closely. It takes time and patience, but it will build bonds that will last a lifetime. Start daddy-daughter times when they are young and stick with it. Teenagers need you more than at any other time in their life.

If you stay with her, look at her and keep listening to her she will always come back for more. She will feel more attractive and rightfully assume that boys that don’t want to be with her have a problem (because you are smarter and wiser than they are). This is a very good thing.

Chapter 4 – Teach Her Humility

“Humility is not thinking less of ourselves, it is thinking of ourselves less.” – C.S. Lewis

“It is not about you.” – the first sentence of The Purpose Driven Life by Rick Warren.

Humility is hard and it must be modeled. It is the starting point for every other virtue. Humility means having a proper perspective on ourselves, of seeing ourselves as we really are. It also means knowing that every person has equal worth.

Take pride in her accomplishments, but don’t go overboard. Always recognize the accomplishments of her peers as well.

Make sure that she knows that her accomplishments do not define her. Her maker already did that. Trying to define ourselves with accomplishments and stuff is a never ending trap. Give her a firm foundation of who she is in God and it will serve her well forever.

Don’t let the world revolve around her.

Chapter 5 – Protect Her, Defend Her (and use a shotgun if necessary)

Let her know that she is beautiful.

Hug her. It is that important to her. Tell her you love her and how precious she is.

Every boy that dates your daughter needs to know he is responsible to you.

Be aware of the mixed messages she will receive about sex from school. Make sure that your message is the final word on the subject.

She might hate you for this in the short term, but she will thank you for protecting her and she will tell you that sooner than you might expect.

Chapter 6 – Pragmatism and Grit: Two of Your Greatest Assets

It’s OK.

Men are pragmatists. They look for solutions – often when our wives and daughters only want to be heard. Don’t negate listening, but your family needs your pragmatism, your realism, your solutions.

Daughters can become only one of two types of women; princesses or pioneer women. Praise the Lord he brought me a pioneer woman to marry. That gives our girls a much greater chance at becoming pioneers themselves.

Princesses believe they deserve a better life and expect others to serve them. Pioneers know that their hard work is how they achieve improvement in their lives. They are in charge of their own happiness.

You must teach your daughter to be a pioneer. The other option is not good and can lead to a host of bad decisions later – like marrying for money and stability.

Grit – Your family needs and deserves your best. As men, we often use up the best of us at work and have little left for home. That is not acceptable. We must get our heads right and game faces on for the job (the most important job) that waits for us when we walk in the door to our homes.

Divorce – It is the central problem that has created a generation of young adults who are at higher risk for chaotic relationships, sexually transmitted diseases and confusion about life’s purpose.

Don’t get confused and believe that going to church will keep your family together. Turns out the divorce rate in the church is about equal to that of the non-church going world. You must live out your faith at home and fight to keep your family together.

When your life nears its end your family will be your greatest accomplishment, not any businesses or buildings you may have built.

Chapter 7 – Be the Man You Want Her to Marry

Think about the standards you’d like your daughter’s future husband to meet. Pretty high, right? Do you live up to those same high standards?

It’s tough medicine to swallow, but we likely have higher standards for our daughter’s future husbands than we maintain for ourselves as husbands to their mothers. We’ve got a ton of great excuses. Work is so hard, I have so little time for me, blah, blah…

Are you always patient and kind? Are you an encourager? One day you will be walking her down the aisle to marry a man that will be very much like you. It is the way women are made. They are drawn to what they know.

Show your daughter that your relationship with your family is more important than possessions and expensive vacations. Make the family your priority.

It is a great strength to live knowing that if you lost every material possession, you would still have a life worth living!

Let her know that you will disappoint her. You’ll try very hard not to, but you will. You are human.

Chapter 9 – Teach Her to Fight

Women are emotional. This is truer for teenagers. They have emotions and impulses that must be kept in check or bad decisions will be made. As the Dad, you can help her make good decisions and make bad decisions safely through your direction and authority.

You understand how to battle impulses. You’ve won some battles and probably lost plenty. Your daughter does not know how to battle her impulses yet. That is why she needs you to make her life a safe place to learn these hard lessons.

Choose your battles carefully. Never budge on honesty, integrity, courage and humility. You can let a lot of the other stuff go.

Your daughter’s brain and her capacity for rational thought will not be fully developed until her late teens or early twenties. This is when she needs you most. Don’t get her to 16 years old and assume she is fully qualified to make great decisions.

Chapter 10 – Keep Her Connected

You, Dad, are the most important person in your daughter’s life. Keeping your family together and spending time together as a family is what will help your children avoid the traps in life (sex, drugs, alcohol, gangs). It has been proven time after time. Families that stay together have more successful kids.

Give your kids experiences. Hang out with them, have fun and be a great example. Get away from all the screens, get outdoors, have adventures, have conversations.

Hopefully, this book will help. Maybe this quick summary will encourage more dads to read the actual book (you really must – it is that good).

To all you Dads, fight the good fight.

[josiebelladonna]

@nirvhannahcornell i am beginning the process of watermarking my drawings, beginning from two months ago, i.e., my mermay drawings and the ones you stole from me. i have blocked you from viewing my art blog - i’m sacrificing reblogging art from there onto here and i also am not posting any more art on main here because it’s blatantly obvious to me that you don’t give two fucks about an artist’s well-being. 

if you seriously believe that i’m doing all of this because of “guilty conscious”, to say you are sorely mistaken is an understatement.

i’m doing this to protect myself. my craft. my life’s work. protecting myself from people like you who like to manipulate and play the victim and believe your own petty squabble for absolutely no reason.

i’ve talked about ignoring trolls and cyberbullies in the past but i can’t ignore you. it’s directly threatening me, my livelihood, and my reputation, while taking other souls down with it as collateral damage.

i mean, it’s bad enough that i’m having to go out of my way to make an uproar about art theft when all everyone seems to talk about is anti-bullying (while being inexplicably passive-aggressive about it, what the fuck?), when art theft in this day and age is a very specific form of bullying. but as far as i can tell, the only one i have to make a stink about is you.

i gave you every opportunity to stop this by going quiet and watching to see what you would do in the future, because i’m not going to lie... this terrified me a bit. i started experiencing anxiety this morning because i started wondering what you might do with me and my art. but since you’re choosing to be a complete broken record about everything and spreading lies and cheating by knocking all the pawns over to go after my king and queen, i’m going to make the most out of every bit of this because you are robbing me of what’s rightfully mine all because of my desire to change my main url to something i love with a passion.

like i said, i have a weird respect for people who keep me on my toes. i really do. want an example that doesn’t involve you (unless you really are that deaf)?

last night, almost out of the blue at around the eight o’clock hour, the hit counter in my blog description showed me something... rather interesting: 3 people (not counting myself) viewing my blog in the wake of everything and my talking about it on instagram the other night. someone viewing from the l.a. area, someone from upstate new york, and someone from around the new york city area.

it could only lead me to assume one thing and one thing only, especially in the wake of a certain someone liking my drawings and his following the instagram tag of his own name. if you know anything about them, and i’m assuming you don’t...

i-

i have anthrax on my side. you don’t.

don’t believe me? click on that link and check out the graphs and map trackers for yourself. obviously i don’t direct proof but it’s easy to come to that conclusion given the events that went down this spring and knowing a little about them in the process.

also, don’t forget: you’re making that url name a thing whether you like it or not. it’s a pseud on my ao3. it’s my registered name on the sketchbook project.

that was a name i made up for myself and you took it away like it was nothing. it’s obvious that i mean nothing to you seeing as you have absolutely no remorse for what you’ve done to me.

you want to pose as me and call me a liar, but look at what you’ve done to me. look at what you’ve done to that name. you made it into an interesting subject to talk about over a dinner party!

you could continue to do all these things but bear in mind that the joke’s on you. everyone knows me as both nirvhannah as well as josie.

you forced my hand. you’re not getting away with this. you’re not burying me alive and getting away with it. you’re not giving me a fit of anxiety so intense that i feel psychosomatic pains in my chest. i don’t deserve to lose almost 14 years of cartooning and i don’t deserve to feel pain to a melodramatic, angry person who feels the need to screw me over out of unwarranted spite.

no remorse or not.

look at what you have done to me.

now do me a huge solid and

get the hell away from me and leave my friends alone.

[varibean]

figuring out how to fit

chapter 2! read chapter one here or here

Guy hadn’t realized that Sam’s shirt was, well, a shirt until two weeks of living with him. 

They had fallen into a rhythm of sorts after a short time. Guy would wake up first, get the morning chores done, then Sam would be quick to follow to make breakfast. Sometimes he fixed two helpings of green eggs and ham and other times he would make Guy and oatmush drizzled with honey and topped with a strawberry because, while it was true that Guy did like the green dish, sometimes it was just a bit too much of a good thing for him. After eating he’d go off to work, leaving Sam to fill his day with whatever he pleased.

When he came home it was the same checklist as the morning but in reverse. Dinner would be fixed, dishes would be put away, depending on Sam’s earlier activities the apartment would be cleaned as they saw fit, they’d sit down and watch a show, and then the two of them would go to bed with Sam curled up against Guy’s side in a peaceful sleep. 

That rhythm was disrupted slightly one night when the temperature rose so high that even the most air conditioned complexes were slightly damp with heat. It was an unexpected heat spike, with no one in town prepared for the weather and what it would bring. All day at work there had been nothing but air conditioner and ice maker repair for Guy, making him rightfully tired and a good bit sweaty when he returned home.

The heat was so bad that even Sam, ball of energy that he was, was lethargically laying on the couch as Guy stepped through the threshold. 

“Oh I’m sorry, didn’t realize you were so busy. Should I come back later?” Guy said, sarcasm and humor dripping from his voice. 

To his credit, Sam actually managed a drowsy, half hearted raspberry in Guy’s direction before flopping back against the couch once again. 

The night moved slowly as ever. The two lazily made dinner and ate without much of their normal chit chat. Both were too hot and too worn to even bother with the dishes and after an icy shower for Guy followed by a cool bath for Sam, they decided to head off to bed without much of their usual nightly fanfare of cleaning and watching tv. It was fine by Guy, who wanted nothing more than a long night of sleep.

As he was getting himself tucked in however, Sam did something he’d never seen the slight Who do before. Sam reached down to the hem of his shirt, which Guy had always just assumed was part of the pattern of his fur, and lifted it above his head.

“It is definitely waaaaay too hot to sleep in that thing. I’m gonna have to wash it tomorrow just to today’s funky flow off of it.” 

Guy only half paid attention to the words Sam was saying. His eyes were fixed on the other’s form, more accurately, his stomach. The fur on Sam’s chest faded in color as it got closer to his center. The bright and vibrant yellow fading to a calm and mellow shade of itself. It looked softer as well compared to the rest of himself. But the real attention grabber was the star, a light white color that almost faded in with the rest of the yellow, but was just bright enough to be seen, that was placed on his belly.

Without thinking about the words, Guy opened his mouth to state his observation.

“You’re part Sneetch.”

The words were blunt, with a hint of awe at this new fact that he had just learned about his best friend. 

For a second he worried that he had said the wrong thing as he noticed Sam’s face blush a light pink in the fading light of their moonlit room.

“Uh, yeah I guess I am. I mean, I never really bothered to check with one of those Who-N-A test thingies but I sure do have the star!” Sam puffed up his form slightly and positioned his hands in a display like form for his star. 

There was something stiff about his movements though that had nothing to do with the heat. 

“Come on over here.” Guy said. 

Even with the boiling heat Sam still gladly flopped onto Guy as if the Knox was a bed, his back pressed against the chubby comfort of his friend’s body. 

In turn, Guy wrapped his arms around Sam. His fingers went to the soft pattern now on display and was pleased to find that the downy feather like texter was as fluffy as it had seemed from afar. 

“Sam, your mom, was she also a-?”

“No. I mean, not that I could remember. Maybe she was half Sneetch or something but if she was I don’t remember it. I think I must’ve got it from my dad, whoever he might’ve been.” 

Talking about Sam’s parents was always a hard subject. It had gotten easier with time, Sam always making plans to find her and recounting the few and far between stories of what he actually remembered about her to Guy. 

The room was silent for so long that Guy thought for a moment that Sam had managed to drift off to sleep without his knowledge but he could feel the conscious breathing of his friend’s body against his own as they sat there; the kind of breathing that was too precise and even to be accidental. 

“Back at the orphanage,” Sam started again suddenly, “the Sneetch kids would pick on me. The ones without stars said that I wasn’t good enough to play with them. And the ones with stars said that since my star wasn’t green I didn’t belong with them either. After that nobody wanted to play with me because if the Sneetch kids thought you were weird, everyone thought you were weird. So I started wearing a shirt to hide it. Seems pretty stupid to still do it now, I mean, I guess I just got used to it. Hiding it.” 

Every fact Guy learned about Sam’s life before him hurt. How anyone could be so needlessly cruel to him seemed so absurd. But that thought just led to him thinking about his own behavior to Sam before he let him in and that hurt even more. 

“They were nothing but a bunch of yipping stuck up snobs. They wouldn’t know a perfect star if it hit ‘em right in their beaks.” 

With the moon fading behind wisps of clouds Guy couldn’t see Sam’s face, but he could just tell that the other was smiling. 

The heat didn’t seem as unbearable anymore as Sam cuddled further against Guy’s fur. And when Guy finally fell asleep, it was with his hands tightly clasping Sam’s as they rested against the soft fluff of the star on his belly. 

_________

The morning proved to be much more bearable than the night, with the previous temperatures cooling off drastically. It was still slightly unpleasant, but with the right attitude almost unnoticeable. 

When Guy got up and ready that morning he elected to again forgo chores in favor of making breakfast. He wasn’t as good at cooking as Sam was but after a while he found himself becoming halfway decent in the kitchen.

He cracked the eggs, cooked up the ham, and buttered himself oat toast to go right as Sam woke up. He was sad to see that he had his shirt on once again, the golden white star covered up by the sunshine yellow fabric that faded in nicely with the rest of his fur. 

“Well good morning and a rise and shine to you Mister Master Chef! I thought I smelled something utterly delectable cooking.”

Guy rolled his eyes at Sam’s cheery compliments. He didn’t doubt that Sam meant them with all of his heart but he always layered the flattery on thick. 

“It’s just frying up eggs Sam. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out how to do it.”

“No but being a Master Inventor must help the process. You’ve got the nimble, inventive hands just ready to...do whatever it is that inventors do to make a good breakfast!.” 

A plate was placed in front of Sam as Guy held himself back from rolling his eyes again. Twice in one minute couldn’t be healthy for his eyesight, he mused. 

“Enjoy it because that’s the last of it we have. Gonna have to go grocery shopping here soon. I’ll pick something up for dinner tonight so don’t worry about it.”

“I never do.” Although the words coming out of Sam’s egg loaded mouth sounded more like ‘ah nempher dphf.’ 

It was odd how endeared Guy could be with other while egg yolk and ham gravy was dripping down the side of his face. One of Sam’s many charms was that he was the most charming when he wasn’t even trying. 

So, with that thought lingering in his mind, Guy gathered up his toast and his work tools and before heading out the door, leaned down to kiss the corner of Sam’s mouth.

And with that he left, grinning like a cat who caught the canary.

[ikesenlemonadestandstories]

Fantasia

I present to you Kinesis: Chapter 23, please feel free to look for all previous and future chapters on my Master List and under the “Kinesis” tag :) Love you all!

Warnings: none? lmk if you think it needs some

[Nobunaga]

Fantasia

There was a sickening crack as Rhian brought their sword down. For a moment everything was still, nobody dared move. I had caught bits and pieces of their conversation, but not enough to know precisely what had been discussed. This outcome was always a possibility.

There was an anguished cry across the field, and that was all it took to wake everyone from their stupor. Enemies crashed into the center of the chaos, all in an attempt to retrieve the body of their leader. They were much too easy to deal with in their emotional advance, many ran off the moment one of my flames licked at their skin; hoping to find solace in the stream beyond camp. 

I heard the magic pulsing in my ears before I saw it and stepped back, not wanting to get hit by whatever my cousin planned to unleash. I was smart to do so. Their magic rolled over the enemies like a tsunami knocking over any and everything in its path. Those who were left standing cowered as Rhian advanced, sword still sheathed in Gael’s chest. 

“I did not receive the luxury of burying my family, and I will see to it that Olexy does not either.” They roared over the crowd. “Tell him that I am alive and well, that I intend to take back what is rightfully mine! Make sure he knows I am coming for him next!”

Several men, clearly faint of heart took off for the hills, eager to get out of dodge. Some brave few, stood their ground, only to be forced out of the barrier by Rhian’s magic. They had ensured their message would be delivered loud and clear. The tides had turned, this was now a war, but it was one we had hope of winning.

 Once the dust settled and it was clear we were alone once again Rhian relaxed, the buzzing falling to a low hum that could only be heard near the barriers that had been put in place. Slowly Rhian made their way back over to Gael’s body, with a sharp look they placed their hand on the sword. 

“Mitsuhide.” They called over the chatter of our troops. There was a moment of complete stillness before a hole split open beside me and Mitsuhide was spit out.

He balked for a moment before striding across the battlefield, dropping to one knee before Rhian. “How can I be of assistance your Majesty?”

“You can start by standing up.” Rhian let out an exasperated sigh. Dropping to their knees when Mitsuhide refused to stand. 

With a chuckle and the shake of his head, Mitsuhide stood, helping Rhian up. “Impossible as ever I see.”

“At least my temperament is something you can count on.” They quipped, “Much more reliable than my memory.” 

Mitsuhide threw his head back in a laugh, as did many others in the camp within earshot of the conversation. “Well then, I’d say that’s enough pleasantries for the moment. Your orders?”

That was the last of the conversation we heard, a barrier glowing to life around the three of them. Despite the secrecy, I wasn’t worried, Mitsuhide had proved to be trustworthy enough despite his background, and Rhian was competent enough to have formulated a plan. I was certain I would be filled in later when it was safe for information to flow freely. 

With nothing left to do, I headed back towards the center of camp to assist in the cleanup efforts. It was a mess, with the sheer number of holes in our tests bordering on comical and almost all of our supplies having been used as Sasuke’s personal cavalry you would never have believed we won. 

“Sir.” Hideyoshi bowed politely as he wandered around the tattered remains of my tent. “Sasuke’s clean up has begun, and we’ve done all we can to de-escalate the whispers that have started to travel around camp.”

“Well don’t just make that face.” I sighed, watching him fight his grimace. “Just come out and say it.”

“I believe we should route the spy before another counsel is to be held, we cannot risk the leak of any more information.” Hideyoshi held his breath bracing for whatever he thought my response would be. 

“A sound idea. I’ll leave it to you, please include all commanding officers and their immediate subordinates.” I waved Hideyoshi off as he saluted and walked across the camp, I had important business to attend to. I needed a new tent. 

“Sasuke!” I called the young man over, earning myself a scowl from Kenshin in the process. I would apologize for interrupting, but it was much too fun to mess with the God of War. “A moment?”

Sasuke ran over, the trinkets in all of his hip and leg packs rattling dangerously as he did so. He may not need to wear much armor in battle, but I was always concerned he would unexpectedly blow himself or our camp up with all of the contraptions he was inventing. It almost wasn’t a trade-off. 

“What are your thoughts on having your helpers assist us in patching the tents so everyone can sleep more comfortably tonight?” I asked, looking for any sort of facial expression. 

“It sounds like a wonderful idea, though we would have to make sure we had enough sewing supplies. Or, well, I guess I could animate any sewing supplies you have.” Sasuke put his hand to his chin, clearly working on a way to accommodate my request. 

“We have enough injured that repairs to the medical tent should be made a priority. Beyond that, anything we can get done would be helpful.”

“Understood,” Sasuke replied before nodding his head vigorously. “I’ll set the sewing supplies to work and ask that a few of the armaments assist as well. It never hurts to have sharp objects to cut off the yarn and excess fabric.”

I watched in mild amusement as an arm full of spears, a barrel of swords, and every sewing supply in camp took off in a near stampede towards the medical tent. That was sure to be a surprise for anyone conscious, maybe they’ll just assume they’re hallucinating. It was no matter though, so long as it all got fixed. 

[egotisticle]

@kinshiplier:

from here

Ever since he was brought into this world, Google held a self sense of purpose. Driven by his objectives, sometimes blindly–  or at least without regard for any other being he happened upon.

However, he was still part of a bigger machine.    Granted, he felt that he was a far more efficient piece than most others. Still, there were a select two that Google held respect for. It was earned, rightfully so and he was not about to alter his opinion.

Even when hearing those words– the android would keep his proud poise. A light glow to his eyes, searching the other’s expression             as if attempting to calculate the most proper response.

“I realize that you’re not speaking about my internal comp-p-ponents but the simulated conscious that I have cultivated to this pont in time. True, I don’t contain the same range of emotions as most do but I will have to d-dis-disagree with your assessment.”

Placing a hand to his own chest as the G insignia lit up a bit more. “My emptiness, as you say, is merely a part of me.                  It does not completely ᶜᵒᵐᵖˡᵉᵗᵉˡʸ emcompass who I am. To assume that I am soley one thing or another is not something I would think you, of all the others, to suggest. I have always viewed you as a more intelligent being.              Unless, you wish to elaborat-t-te on your assumption.                             If so, you have as much of my time that you require.”

     ❝ You seem to be construing what I said as that of a personal attack when I meant to cast it in no such light. In a certain cosmic sense, are we not all empty? Do we not all  yearn  for fulfillment or the path to self-actualization? You vouch for complexity on an individual level and make no mistake, I don't disagree with you. On a broader scope, however, there is a natural tendency to generalize in order to see the larger picture  -- in order to proverbially see the  forest  for the  trees. To varying degrees, we are  all  empty and seek satiation in one form or another. ❞

     Digressions and musings aside, the suited entity was willing to concede that the word choice did not lend itself well to literal comprehension. To minify complexities and simplify anything was not of symptom of chauvinism or unearthed  melancholia  but rather, a humble flair for the dramatic; nonetheless, the being was only too willing to rectify any misconceptions birthed from the initial comment's  ambiguity.  

     ❝ Perhaps 'incomplete' would have been a better descriptor, but I can't deny my partiality for theatrics or soulful hyperboles. ❞

                    Unblinking eyes flickered over the other in a once over before a twitch of smile caught the light.

       ( WITH A  F R O S T  THAT COATED THE LUNGS AND          CHILLED  THE SOUL, THE VOID WAS THE FINEST          TEACHER FOR THE SUBJECT OF DESOLATION AND          EMPTINESS. 

                     WHO WAS HE IF NOT THE  REIGNING  KING OF A VACUOUS                                      KINGDOM BUILT ON REALITY'S LOOSE THREADS ? )

      ❝ No one is complete, no one is  wholly  satisfied. What I had  originally  intended to lead up to, Google, was a simple question as to what you believe that emptiness could be remedied with -- what you feel is missing within you. With such a logical mind and transparent directives, I confess myself curious as to what  you'd consider those gaps to be or whether you  earnestly  believe that they don’t exist at all. ❞

[sebeth]

Titans: Donna Troy

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

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 Donna, Donna, Donna! I haven’t watched the episode yet but I am psyched for Donna’s appearance.  A founding member of the Teen Titans and a mainstay of the Wolfman/Perez era but Donna is consistently short-changed in media appearances.  

Donna had a few appearances in the Wonder Woman television series, a brief cameo in the Titans: The Judas Contract movie, and was part of the adorable DC Nation: Super BFFs cartoon shorts (available on the DC Universe ap – highly recommended).

Teen Titans and Teen Titans Go? Barely a mention! Young Justice? Nope!

Uncool, DC, very uncool.

Finally, Donna gets her chance to shine!

We left off last episode with Dick, Kori, Rachel, and Gar surviving the traumatic experience of the asylum. But Raven found her birth mom!  And Gar became a killer! Go Titans?!

“Us sidekicks gotta stick together.” – Love Donna and Dick’s sibling-like relationship.  Very true to the comics.

The Joker would be intensely traumatizing for a young teen.  Especially with the added guilt of failing to save his numerous victims.

“Gross. Do you think it’s like thinking about your parents?” – Poor, poor Rachel!

Are Dick and Kori becoming a couple?  Or is this a post-trauma booty call?

Kori seems to be falling more than Dick.  Poor Kori.

Um, is going back to Ohio a good idea?  The mysterious organization is already familiar with that state – the covent was in that area.

I question Dick’s wisdom in leaving the team.  He has to realize the organization isn’t limited to the asylum.  Kori was in Europe investigating the connections the organization in Austria.  Does he really feel its safe to leave an amnesiac Kori and newbies Rachel and Gar to their own devices?  Is it safe to trust Angela at this point?  Batman may be too distrusting but he wouldn’t make this rookie mistake.

Dick also might want to check with Bruce before he offers the safehouse to a bunch of people Bruce hasn’t met!  I can’t imagine it would go well if Bruce found out.  Rightfully so as it is Bruce’s property.

Donna, Donna, Donna! Love her!  She’s already passed Dawn as my favorite female in the series.

It goes Donna, Dawn, Kori, Nuclear Mom, Rachel, Nuclear Daughter, and Amy in case you’re wondering.

In the brief scene, they’ve nailed Donna’s empathy and compassion.  She is the “big sister” of the Titans.  True to the comics, Donna is a photographer.  The jumping of the truck demonstrates her Amazon abilities.

Donna is so good for Dick – within minutes of their reunion, he’s showing off his “game”. And his humor’s returning.  If I didn’t love Donna and Dick’s sibling relationship so much, I would love to see these two as a couple.  Great chemistry!  Unfortunately, Dick and Donna are one of the all-time great sibling relationships in the comics.  

“I so got this.” You so do not!  Comic book Dick would work the room like a champ.  TV Dick – not so much.

We receive background on how Melissa came into custody of Rachel.  Did Melissa know the identity of Rachel’s father?  Or was Melissa always that religious?

“A cult of personality.” – Definitely the Church of Blood.

Are the writers toning down Trigon?  Is he the head of the Church of Blood?  Or is Trigon the god the cult worships? Did Trigon possess the head of the Church of Blood in order to conceive Rachel?

“Don’t ever be ashamed of defending yourself.” – Kori continues the mom role and helps Gar deal with killing the asylum doctor.

“I’m not comfortable talking about this.” – Me neither considering the age difference in the actors portraying Rachel and Gar.  Too bad as the duo is adorable on screen.

Kori is suffering definite trauma from the asylum.  I don’t blame her – being cut open while conscious would be horrifying!

Yep, Dick is the master of small talk!  Is he channeling his inner Tim?

Things are bad when you miss the Penguin.

Kori’s suspicions were both right and wrong.  She’s ramped up from assaulting cops to assaulting federal marshals.  Go big or go home?

“Older, smarter, prettier.” – Tell him, Donna!

Why is Tamaran an offshoot of Sumerian?

Someone should explain to Kori that wearing less flashy outfits may help her blend in.

Um, Kori, exploding the train wasn’t the best move to contain the situation.

How can Angela’s house still be unoccupied? She was held in an asylum for the past five years.  No one is living at the house.  Whose been paying the taxes for the land?  Wouldn’t the state have seized it by now?

“Her mission is to secure the Raven.” Cue ominous feeling,

Drive, faster Dick! Good thing Donna is with Dick.  He’s going to need an experienced power house to take down Kori.

Is the ending a fake tease? Will the next time we return to the series, we see Kori calm down and release Rachel?  Or are we going to see an epic fight between two female badasses (Kori and Donna)?  I’m hoping for option two – at least briefly!

Why has an alien from another planet been sent to “secure the Raven”? Trigon’s influence and conquest rampage spread across dimensions?  I’m assuming the same will be true in the tv series.

Question: Was Kori still enslaved in the tv series?  She seems to be sent to earth on Tamaran orders – not on another alien race’s command. Is she still a princess?  It seems odd to send a princess on this quest.

Again, why is Tamaran an offshoot of Sumerian?  Or is Sumerian an offshoot of Tamaran?  Thanagar had an influence on Ancient Egypt in DC Comics (see Hawkman).  Did Tamarans help found Sumer or other ancient civilizations on Earth?  

Historians put the founding of Sumer between 4000 and 5000 BC.  The Greek Dark Ages to the classical Ancient Greece era are stated to be between 1200 BC to 600 AD (approximately).  That means there was several thousand years between the founding of Sumer and the formation of the Amazons in the DC universe.  Plenty of time for the origins of Sumer to be lost to time – even for the immortal and highly learned Amazons.

I demand Donna becomes a regular in the series!  

Up next: Hank and Dawn and Don!  I’m excited for the origin episode even if it seems an odd placement in the series.  It feels as if they are stalling for the last two episode- series finale.  Wouldn’t it have made more sense to air “Hank & Dawn” before the Donna Troy episode? The Titans could recover from the Asylum fallout as we learned the origin of Hawk and the Doves.  Then air Donna Troy and roll right into the series finale.  Oh well, I trust the creators.

Once more – Donna, Donna, Donna!

[beinglibertarian]

Misconceptions About Allowing Teachers to Carry

Individuals and media outlets across the United States are talking about firearms, firearm control, mass shootings, and violence. The debate was given fuel after the Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School shooting, which stripped away the lives of 17 innocent teachers and students.

People are empathetic, emotional, and angry. It is natural whenever any tragic event happens that people want to talk and mobilize. Everyone is looking for solutions.

One of these solutions is allowing teachers to carry firearms to protect students. Congressman Thomas Massie, a representative of Kentucky, took to Twitter to announce his proposal to repeal the “Gun-Free School Zones Act of 1990.”

Butler County, Ohio, Sheriff, Richard K. Jones, is among the many who support allowing teachers to be armed. “I am going to offer free concealed and Carry class free 2 teachers in butler county. Limited number. Details coming soon online. Also training on school shootings,” Sheriff Jones posted on Twitter. “Our teachers start training Monday in firearms ccw. While our gov[ernment] still debates what 2 do we will have trained over 100 school personnel by Saturday,” Sheriff Jones also tweeted.

These solutions don’t come without controversy and backlash. A lot of people support the proposal to arm teachers. A lot of people take issue with the proposal to arm teachers. There is no doubt that there are genuine concerns and questions many parents and school staff have.

There are many sides of skepticism to this proposal. Some libertarians are against the proposal because it will arm hundreds, if not thousands, of government employees. The strongest opposition to arming the teachers comes from the left though. Many can agree that we should seriously consider whether or not we want to arm teachers.

In order to actually make a clear-conscious decision, we must honestly talk about the intentions and consequences of this proposal. However, there is a barrier preventing common ground to be made on the proposal. This barrier is built by strawmen, exaggerated hypotheticals, hyper-partisanship, and basic misconceptions.

As stated before, some of these questions and comments are genuine. Let’s tackle some of these misconceptions.

When people propose the idea of arming the teachers, they are not talking about visiting the local gun shop or armory and stocking the entire bed of a pickup truck with guns and handing them out to every Tom, Dick, and Harry. They are not suggesting that every teacher will have a firearm holstered to their side visible to everyone around them. No one is suggesting that the hallway custodian should sling an AR-15 on their back.

Instead, the proposal is to allow teachers who are already competent with a firearm to be able to conceal carry or keep it in a safe nearby to protect their classroom. The solution isn’t to force a mandatory training course and supply every single teacher with a pistol, but rather provide an option for teachers with a keen interest in protecting the children they are teaching.

Here is some food for thought. Teachers are already obligated to protect the students they are given oversight over. Why not allow the teacher who is competent, or wishes to be trained in compliance with federal, state, local, and school district regulations, the choice to use or acquire a tool that would help them effectively carry out their obligation to defend students? We are talking about choice. Not a mandate.

Let’s talk about the hyper-partisanship or ideologically exaggerated arguments against the proposal.

Democrat Senator Ron Wyden of Oregon is against arming school teachers because, to him, it would admit that school shootings, in the United States, are a normal thing. “I am for teachers teaching,” the Oregon Democrat said Friday, Feb. 23, at a town hall meeting attended by students and the public at McNary High School in Keizer. “I am opposed to arming teachers.” “It’s almost as if these shootings in schools have been normalized,” Ron Wyden continued. “We cannot accept this. We are better than this.”

I call this a hyper-partisan exaggeration because Ron Wyden generally stands with his Democratic peers when it comes to gun control. Ron Wyden supported a ban on high-capacity magazines, he supported the ability to sue firearm manufacturers for crimes committed with firearms, and in 2010, Ron Wyden was given an “F” by the NRA.

Ron Wyden is likely to oppose a solution that would give permission or encouragement to private ownership of firearms. Let’s address his stated reasoning behind his opposition to allowing teachers to carry. He associated the proposal to allow teachers the choice to carry with admitting that school shootings are normal in the United States.

That isn’t the position held by most people who advocate for teachers being allowed to carry. As I wrote above, the proposal is to allow teachers the choice of concealing a firearm.

Democrats aren’t the only ones who oppose the idea of arming teachers. Some libertarians may ask, what about the idea of arming government employees? Isn’t that concerning? This position operates on the presumption that taxpayer money will be used to supply a firearm to every teacher. Perhaps this is the position of some people. However, that’s the wrong way to look at it, and in response, I raise this question. Should a person who works for the government be denied access to own a firearm?

I share the sentiment that smaller government is preferable. A less intrusive and less powerful government is highly preferable. I would personally like to see education privatized or handled locally. With that being said, I think my question stands.

Should we ban a United States Postal Service employee from owning a firearm? Should we ban federal judges from owning a firearm? Does your right to own a firearm end simply because you are a government employee? If not, then why should you not have the option to carry a firearm that you are legally allowed to own?

When Sheriff Richard K. Jones suggested that teachers should be armed, someone who took issue with that used a hypothetical argument in clear opposition to the suggestion.

During the active shooting, the armed guards planted at the school stayed safely outside. This revelation rightfully sparked outrage.

So, with that in mind, how are we to expect art teachers and librarians to protect students when the School Resource Officer wouldn’t enter the building and attempt to stop the shooter? Firstly, the question intentionally implies that teachers and librarians are incapable of protecting their own lives. And the question insinuates that because teachers and librarians are incapable of protecting their own lives, they shouldn’t be able to even have the option of acquiring a tool that would allow them to protect their own lives. The question implies that cops and military members are far better at protecting an individual than the individual themselves.

What about being an art teacher means that you cannot competently use a firearm to protect you and your classroom?

Secondly, the question assumes that in the event of a shooting, teachers are going to roam the halls looking for the shooter. Sure, that is a possibility, but it’s unlikely. What’s more likely is that in the event of a shooting, a lockdown would occur. Teachers would lock the doors, turn off the lights, close the blinds, and guide students to hide under their desk or away from windows.

Of course, this is all speculation, which is why we shouldn’t write legislation based on hyperbolic what ifs. How would a cop be able to tell the difference between an armed teacher and a shooter? Many school districts require teachers and school staff to wear badges or some other form of identification. They also issue passes to anyone who visits the school. Also, hopefully by the time the police show up, the situation would be defused. Furthermore, to avoid any confusion, teachers should be encouraged to protect their classroom or any area they are designated instead of roaming hallways vigilantly.

There’s an infinite amount of questions and concerns. You couldn’t accurately write out every criticism or question about this hot-button issue. It is impossible to appease every single individual across every single ideological spectrum. Those who are anti-gun and ideologically unmovable are unlikely to support proposals to arm teachers.

There will be concerns and questions that are legitimate. However, the barrier built of ideological strawmen and hyperbole won’t go away.

Lastly, the proposal isn’t to arm every single teacher across the country. The idea is to allow competently trained teachers who already privately own a firearm, or would like to own one, to have the option of bringing it to work with them to add an extra blanket of security for our children. The idea behind the proposal is to stop advertising school campuses as a “gun-free zone,” in favor of creating a layer of uncertainty to those contemplating committing a violent act on society.

* Logan Anderson is an Oregonian and free-market advocate.

The post Misconceptions About Allowing Teachers to Carry appeared first on Being Libertarian.

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[baekzhang]

january 19th | misdial

byun baekhyun. reader-insert. voicemail series. 3k words. fluff/angst. au

—it all started with one misdial, and a second, and a third, and...

misdial masterlist + guide | general masterlist 

[2017/01/19] 2.22 p.m.: “The doctors said that you haven’t made any progress and I broke down in tears. Baekhyun was crying, too. Satansoo— I mean Kyungsoo was there, too. He told us that you’ll be fine. He bought flowers for you; I thought it was very cute. I hope you’ll be better soon.”

[2017/01/19] 08.15 a.m.: new message from ‘Byun Baekhyun’

» slept well? « did till you woke me up

[seen: 08.17 a.m.]

» ahhh, i’m sorry!! 😰 » i thought you were already up 😅😅 « mhmmmm sure « well, i stayed awake for long « couldn’t sleep. What about you? You’re up awfully early 

[seen: 08.21 a.m.]

» couldn’t sleep for shit » i also have to go to the hospital in a bit so yeah « to see..him?

[seen: 08.23 a.m.]

» yeah...to see chanyeol » the doctors gave me a call yesterday evening » they told me to go see them in the early morning, so i’ll be there at around 9.30 « why you tho?

[seen: 08.26 a.m.]

» well » i’m his guardian since idk » about 3 years « ohh « i didn’t know that...what happened to his parents?

[seen: 08.30 a.m.] 

» (◼️◼️◼️) « you don’t have to tell me! « it’s probably a too personal matter « i’m sorry

[seen: 08.33 a.m.]

» no, it’s alright » his father died three years ago because of lung cancer » he was...let’s say he smoked a lot, so it was bound to happen » his mother uhhh. Chanyeol hasn’t talked to her in a while. Maybe for about five years now. It’s complicated and idk everything either, but she doesn’t live in Seoul « where does she live?

[delivered: 08.40 a.m.]

« i’m sorry, i shouldn’t be asking these questions

[seen: 08.45 a.m.]

» his mother and his father divorced when he was 15 years old. She moved to the US in the same year and re-married the following year. Chanyeol last saw her at his graduation. Their relationship is complicated, especially because his dad started smoking more after the divorce, so he blames her for his death and didn’t talk to her anymore. Idk if she even cares, she has a new family, another son, so yeah...i am his guardian. Well, me and Kyungsoo

« i see...oh you’re on your way to the hospital now, right? « is it alright if i come later, too?

[seen: 08.55 a.m.]

» i’m on my way to yours, if you want you come with me  » and kyungsoo too ughh « baekhyun « thank you 

[delivered: 08.56 a.m.]

Truthfully, the past week was awful, horrible; and you knew that you deserved all these feelings. Self-pity wasn’t an option even though you’d have loved to embrace it. Someone might think that crying stops when there are no tears left in your eyes. Well, the tears stopped, but not because you lacked water in any sort. The tears stop when you realise that they won’t solve anything. You cried for maybe an entire day, and Chanyeol didn’t wake up. And then your tears stopped flowing and numbness set in. Numbness, guilt and void. 

Quickly, you got dressed. You had showered early in the morning when you couldn’t sleep, so you had that covered already. However, the shower wasn’t as refreshing as it was supposed to be. When you went to your wardrobe and picked a simple outfit—for which you didn’t care too much other than it had to look somewhat acceptable—you almost brought yourself to gasp. 

Large bags under your puffy eyes, dry lips that almost seemed to crack, slight wrinkles and surely the lack of sleep drained you enough to actually grow one white hair: you were a damn mess and the worst about it was that your initial shock recovered soon and changed into the monotony of disregard; you just didn’t care and refused to notice how long your nails had grown, how much weight you lost that you fitted perfectly into a three year old pair of jeans and the greyness of your skin. They just weren’t on your mind and had no purpose there for this moment—the moment, which had been lasting for several days now.

Shortly after you got dressed, the door bell rang and your head slowly jerked in the direction and you approached the door, leaving behind heavy steps. You lived in an apartment complex, third floor, so you gave it your best to wander down the stairs as quickly as possible—the elevator would surely take too long to come, especially at such hour where everyone goes to work and it stops at every damn floor! Admittedly, you weren’t sure why, but your heart rate elevated a slight bit, and you couldn’t tell its source. Fear? Excitement? Surprise? Or was it Baekhyun? 

By the time his name entered your options, you saw him right at the stairs standing there with a saggy posture that might result in a hunchback hump if he continued to strain his spine like that. His hands were stuffed into the pockets of his trousers—just a casual pair of denim—and he kept looking at his feet. You couldn’t his face when you descended from the stairs, just his stance, which probably mirrored yours when you weren’t conscious of it. You were not conscious of it until you saw yourself in a reflection anyway. 

“H-hey.” Your voice was weak and raucous; you hadn’t spoken a single word in days because you had nobody to talk to except for yourself, and there wasn’t really much to talk about to yourself. Baekhyun’s shoulders shrugged quickly in shock to your quivering voice and his eyes found yours: he looked all too wrong and paradox. He had teary eyes, more or less unclear skin and his shirt wasn’t ironed but rather creased to the core—but he smiled at you and you couldn’t help but frown slightly before you attempted to return the fake happiness.

“Hey.” Baekhyun knew perfectly fine that there was no reason for happiness, but he still forced his lips to curl upwards to elicit a mirroring of yours. He managed; it wasn’t satisfying and left him with a returning thought of his best friend and the news that he couldn’t really classify from the tone of the other line—emotionless and unrevealing. The short ride to your home had him probably swallow litres of saliva; Byun Baekhyun had never felt that anxious.

He led you to his car, a silver Audi A3 from what you could make out, and you darted your eyes, narrowed slightly, to the door of the passenger seat till you bit on your lip and  squinted toward the backdoor. 

“Don’t worry, Kyungsoo can sit at the back,” Baekhyun’s voice echoed in your ears and you nodded, whispering an almost inaudible “okay”.

New Message To: Sly Fox Chanyeol Hey Chanyeol...I’m on my way to you! With Baekhyun, too. We’ll pick up Kyungsoo. I hope you’re up sleepy head! 

“What are you doing?” You shrieked when you heard Baekhyun’s voice; your heart jumped and your eyes were close to bulging out. 

—message saved as draft—

“Checking the clock,” you cleared your throat and glanced at the clock. 09.14 a.m. Baekhyun hummed, the noise made you gulp rather audibly to which he didn’t react and you shifted in the seat, fidgeting with the belt till you ended up resting your head on the window. You didn’t notice it started raining till Baekhyun turned on the windscreen wipers. That and someone entering the car complaining about how it suddenly started raining, although you only perceived that very dazedly. 

“Hello.” Your ears perked up and your glassy eyes blinked, staring at the driver who pointed his thumb to the back where you found another guy; he was Kyungsoo you could tell. “My name is Do Kyungsoo. You must be ____?”

Do Kyungsoo is evil and satanic. If you ever see a little man looking like he comes from Star Trek when looking at his hair, then make a run for it.

Your throat dried out instantaneously. And where the fluid lacked it oozed out where you didn’t need it—you were hit by a wave of cold sweat, which had your chin quiver. “Yes, that’s me,” you replied looking everywhere but into those deep, questioning eyes. 

Kyungsoo was passive. His eyes appeared dull and he was conflicted everywhere he could possibly feel this net of different thoughts and opinions. He was probably in a worse state of complexity and debate than Baekhyun was, and you knew that he was staring at the back of your shielded head. You could feel his eyes on you and you could assume his thoughts very well.

‘She did this to Chanyeol.’

‘It’s her fault.’

Most importantly, however: ‘Why is she here?’

You didn’t feel like searching for an answer, especially not when there was none to begin with. The question to the why would stand without a reply and Do Kyungsoo had to live with it even when he never uttered it, neither did you know if he really thought this. 

Whether the car ride was silent or noisy, you couldn’t tell. You didn’t pay attention to anything but the tightening feeling in your chest and your heavy breathing that almost felt like suffocation. Rain drops slid down the window and everything outside was just hazy. Lightly you could hear the sounds of some casual, jazzy radio music; but nothing you focused on. 

What flooded your mind were the thoughts of what you were about to get informed about—Chanyeol’s condition. Would Chanyeol make it? He’ll be okay, right? Today’s medicine has improved so much, he must be doing well. Neither Baekhyun nor Kyungsoo looked like they knew what was about to happen, they were just as you. And that frightened you. 

The car came to a halt soon and a tap to your shoulder made your drowsy eyes glance toward Baekhyun who stared at you with a sympathetic manner; he whispered, “We’re here.” You nodded and sloppily got out of the car, Kyungsoo offered you a hand to get out of the seat, which you gladly took. It felt weird to be treated with respect when they could easily discard you and use you rightfully as the scapegoat. If you didn’t act the way you did, he wouldn’t have reacted the way he did, which ultimately resulted in his current situation. 

“We’re a little early,” Kyungsoo stated and you looked ahead where the two of them stood; Baekhyun nodded and turned to you with a friendly look that sent daggers toward your heart. Stop being so nice! 

“Shall we grab some food first, or do you want to wait?” he questioned and you licked over your dry lips.

“I’m not really hungry,” you announced and Baekhyun just nodded and waited for you to catch up with him; Kyungsoo walked forward. From you three, he appeared to be the least affected, but maybe he just didn’t want anyone to see what he truly thinks and feels. He was a polite man, unlike how you expected him to be. His stare wasn’t murdering, it just didn’t hold any sort of emotion, just void. One could describe his face to be chiseled, not because he was outstandingly good looking like Adonis, but because he looked the same for most of the time. But you didn’t know Kyungsoo too much, barely ten minutes...but you didn’t know Chanyeol much either, nor Baekhyun.

The tears stop when you realise that they won’t solve the problem. Instead you feel empty and numb. Numbness, guilt and void. Then why is Byun Baekhyun staring at you with watered eyes that offered the reflection of a woman in her early twenties, crying, hiccuping and about to fall to her knees in hurt, shock and mixture of various other emotions? 

“We’ve observed Mr. Park Chanyeol for nine days now and his brain activity hasn’t changed at all, if all it worsened slightly. This doesn’t mean that he will not wake up, but the chances currently aren’t good. We are currently discussing to use artificial respiration to provide his brain with more oxygen to increase the chances of him waking up and reducing the possibility for a long time amnesia.”

“When will he wake up?”

“Amnesia?” Kyungsoo and Baekhyun uttered at the same time, while you just stared to the ground with shaking hands and head. 

“We don’t know when. Mr. Park will most likely suffer amnesia, if he wakes up.” 

And by that moment you screamed it out of your lungs with as much force you could: “NO!”

Baekhyun’s hands dropped and he jerked his head in your direction—he was crying, but tried his best to keep his composure. But you couldn’t. 

If he wakes up. If. 

You stared into Baekhyun’s eyes for five seconds, ignoring any medical bullshit coming from the doctor; then you dashed out of the room and shut it close rather loudly. Chanyeol wouldn’t be disturbed by a loud thud anyways.

[2017/01/19] 10.14 a.m.: incoming call from ‘Byun Baekhyun’

[2017/01/19] 10.16 a.m:: missed call from ‘Byun Baekhyun’

[2017/01/19] 10.17 a.m.: incoming call from ‘Byun Baekhyun’

“Are you...alright? Wow, this is a dumb question. I—I, um, ahh...where are you?”

“I know it’s hard...it’s hard f–for me, too. I just...tell me you’re somewhere safe.”

“Why are you worrying about me?”

“Why? I don’t know...aren’t we friends? Don’t fry worry about each other?”

“You...shouldn’t worry about...me.” 

“But I do...”

“Why? We barely know each other.”

“You’re Chanyeol’s girlfriend. Chanyeol wouldn’t like to see you getting so worked up, right?”

“Don’t you...”

“Don’t I what?”

“Never mind. Where are you?”

“I’m outside the hospital, where are you?”

“At the bus station.”

“I’ll be there in a minute, don’t go anywhere!”

[2017/01/19] 10.25 a.m.: call ended

Baekhyun arrived, truly, a minute later at the bus station and saw you, sitting on the seat with your knees pulled to your chest. You had been crying for the entire time, and throughout the entire call you had been sobbing. He didn’t do any better; his face was filled with confusion and worry. And once he was there he just sat next to you for a couple of minutes. He just sat and didn’t do anything but look forward, to the other side of the road. Baekhyun didn’t quite know what to do, he wasn’t used to worry about someone else, especially not when he wanted people to worry about him, too. He was broke from the inside, especially after this visit. What could he do? Cry? He already did, and found no solace in it. So Byun Baekhyun just stared ahead and glanced in your direction every time your hiccup echoed louder in his ears. 

“Do you feel ready to go back?” he asked in a quiet voice, and your sobs stopped. Were you ready? For what exactly? 

“Visiting hours started,” he added and you swallowed the big lump in your throat. 

“Or I can take you home. It’s raining, I don’t want you to go through the rain.”

“I can use the bus,” you whimpered to which he just nodded. He was about to get up when the bus drove to the station. Surely, it was leading to the direction of your apartment, but you made no attempt to get up or say anything.

“Hey, are you getting or not?” the driver shouted and you shook your head slightly; you whispered “no”.

“We’re not,” Baekhyun coughed awkwardly. He heard you. The bus drove away.

Suddenly, you jumped from your seat and extended your hand to Baekhyun’s, who just shot you a quizzical looks—raised eyebrow, and hesitantly he took your hand in his to stand up. 

“Let’s go..and visit,” you mumbled and forced a smile onto your lips. Baekhyun’s stomach twisted at the sight, but he followed you. 

Flowers. There was exactly one difference in the room. There was a vase filled with flowers next to Chanyeol’s bed. When you entered the room, you saw Kyungsoo sitting in the chair next to the bed; his head jerked toward the door to see who was it, and his eyes shot open in surprise when he saw you and Baekhyun drenched from the rain. 

“I didn’t think you’d find her so quickly,” Kyungsoo said calmly and stood up, offering you his seat. 

“You got him flowers,” you stated and he titled his head, realising after a second what you meant. Oh!

“Yeah, Chanyeol likes flowers, I guess,” he replied and you nodded, grabbing another chair from the table and suited yourself next to Kyungsoo. Chanyeol likes flowers.

“Remember when he was so pissed when you didn’t get him any flowers when he broke his arm?” Baekhyun said calmly, looking toward the flowers and feeling the petal between his thumb and index finger. Chanyeol broke his arm. 

“Yeah, and then I got him orchids and he turned out to be allergic to them. What an idiot.” Chanyeol is allergic to orchids. 

The warmth coming from Baekhyun and Kyungsoo had surprised you from the very beginning, they had not shoved the blame on you. And had finally pieced the riddle together.

“Don’t worry, Chanyeol will wake up. We just have to trust him. He was an idiot for driving so late and for no damn reason, too,” Kyungsoo reassured, his hand was on your shoulder and for the first time you’ve seen just a tiny bit of a smile. 

Park Chanyeol was talkative like no other man you’ve ever met, but Park Chanyeol was also secretive: they had no idea that you blamed yourself, neither did they know why you did so. And you didn’t know if you had it in yourself to speak up. 

[2017/01/19] 02.18 p.m.: calling ‘Sly Fox Chanyeol’

“Hey, this is Chanyeol, I am currently too busy being awesome to answer your call, but you can leave me a message after the beep! [beep]”

[myvoicenottheoneyougiveme]

In reality, in which "this” is most definitely detached but isn’t so purely scientific to have left the elements of the sponsor(s) off the table, that “personal” element suggests what is even being measured.

There are things that happen that I am meant to believe are legitimate interest or investment from others. They come decoupled from any kind of genuine indication that this is so, but you add in reactions to my “rejections” and the way the non-speak “messaging” goes on around here I’m supposed to believe that it’s the case. It’s all framed to me to be the case. I’m even guilted to believe that it is the case. The problem is, that aside from the roundabout quite empty and lifeless “hinting” that goes on, there is absolutely zero indication without all of that that there is any real genuine interest in such a thing. No sparks. No emotion. I mean I’ve seen emotion to the “disappointment” or whatever on rare occasion, but I’ve never once read “interest” in any kind of anything.

Why point all of this out? Because I believe that you my sponsors want more than anything to believe sorry, to prove that I never once read anything in regards to Michelle accurately--never, never once in all the years before “this” and especially after it started. So you puppet and prop up god knows who, anyone and everyone that’s willing to go along and give absolutely every indication “directly out of sight” and under the radar and completely contrary to reality, in an effort to prove that I when given any indication at all will absolutely run with that “invitation”.

I mean it’s all but proven right? You just have to prove it. ...All but. As in you can say whatever you want, but you can’t actually rewrite history.

You want me to latch onto something and decouple it from reality myself and create a fantasy and get all up in my head just so you can show that it’s all me and always was just me.

It’s the supposed “love notes” from total fucking strangers that would get left in the cafeteria. Or it’s the coworker reaching in or rather being the face of the reaching in and touching topics she ought not to touch. Let’s write things on cups. Let’s position the fake cockroaches in every sexual position imaginable. It’s the pointed remarks in conversation to this effect, but oddly all of the sexual stuff both breaking that ice and attempting to disgust at the same time. It’s the people around said person at one time attempting to hint hint wink wink like we’re all playing matchmaker. It’s the pointed “deep disclosure” of this week without the depth or emotion behind it. It’s the librarian taking pages out of your book, out of what happens here in the home too, and being a running commentary on “current events” framing them in such a way. It’s the other in-person attempts at dissonance and the “at my expense”ness that follow anything. It’s the other guy who never wears a cap EVER but suddenly this week because of “baseball” and “brother” and the emotional content of the media I did dare to watch this weekend and make use of my personal space rather than be paralyzed in anticipation of god only knows what will reverberate back at me. It’s the one lady who after I found something profound or in the very least interesting to point out to “you” while cleaning her office--you know the stuff people put on their walls and shelves to show others that says something about them--who has now gone so far out of her way to do exactly the same thing with the knickknacks like I’m supposed to read intent rather than simple harassment and more to the organized stalking. The list is endless. The bullshit “meetings” at the start. The one coworker who would lead the charge for the other. The “friend” officer who would do the same thing. The other officer who lied about having had contact with said “homeless” student after I saw him through the window talking with her, who when I pointed that out to “this” he magically disappeared and was replaced by the even more overt and raring-to-go bully-beat-down type who you had to reassign again to save face...There is a shit storm that’s been raging week after week for months, and your angle of attack may change slightly but your every aim is to paint and to prove and to smear me in any way possible and to, most of all, validate your own victimhood.

...at my expense. Live out a fantasy about yourself at my expense. You have to be one thing in the mirror, that means I have to be the other. I have to be whatever completes that for you. A crusade, not enough that you simply know or feel something in yourself or anyone in your life, no you need to control me and impose it on me and rewrite my lived experience. I am in possession of the one reflection you need more than any other it seems. You can’t have it. What you did to me was more than torturous. You should have let go when I was pulled out and given the resources necessary to no longer be at your mercy. But that reflection on you just couldn’t stand. You wouldn’t stand for it. You would not rest until you became 100% good and he 100% in the wrong (or evil more like).

And I forgot one more, it’s every new semester like every new jury after you throw out the previous verdict. Trading bad science for worse science. The veneer of truth seeking has dissolved and given way to what it is now. The fact is, when your “scientific method” was at its purest and I had little to no idea at all what was going on and I was hook line and sinker in your ploys, you still didn’t get the results you were looking for. No you got more of the codependent behaviors, long before you showed me yourself, Dorothy, what narcissism even meant before I even knew these concepts were a thing. You got every false result and failures to produce what you were just so damned sure of between the two of you, and your own jury, your own writers, your YOUR, YOUR handpicked personally, JURY, YOUR OWN JURY said “we’ve got the wrong guy”. You’ve been trading them out left and right ever since.

The thing about science, even false results are supposed to tell the scientist something. Repeated, repeated, repeated, repeated, is supposed to tell you something. There has to be the possibility for a false result or it’s not science anymore. But you bend and twist and frame and change the game eliminating that possibility anyway, but then you still don’t get it, or you get something that you with the greatest feats of mental gymnastics attempt to shoehorn into a narrative.

You need “this” like oxygen to breath. You need the mirroring. You need it revolving around you. You need the validation. You need to control the narrative. You need to be one thing, and that means you’re going to make me the other thing even if it kills me... and rightfully so, since in your reality, he is, he is, he is, HE IS, HE IS, HE IS AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH, and NO ONE IS GOING TO TELL ME OTHERWISE. HE IS THE EVIL. I AM THE GOOD. HE IS THE EVIL, IM A VICTIM. IM A VICTIM. temper temper temper temper ragefest.

Most everything in this shit storm that happens around me is a (desperate) attempt to show me to be the kind of person that will read something that isn’t there, get it up in his head, and make life hell for someone who never had anything to do with his psychotic reality in the first place. All the signs will then be pointed to one thing being true, except for all of the signs that actually matter. And I’m supposed to run with the mere possibility because it’s so compelling. That gets you the result you want.

This week I suspend better judgement and say, OK, fine let’s just assume for a moment, and within that framework here is where I, myself, stand. ...”Not interested.” ...And then I get more again from her to the effect of “devastation” at my “rejection” of her. ...And then I say, ok, whatever, it doesn’t make any sense, but even if there were chemistry, here’s some qualitative reasons why I would not be interested in a relationship with this person. ...And then next it’s all actions and words on her part to the effect of being creeped out like I’m actually the one coming on and this person wants desperately to be left alone.

Well, I wouldn’t have called even her bit “coming on” but you’ve wanted me to believe that is the case. And I’ve known that you’ve wanted me to believe that. And so, now we’re right back to, “who is ‘this’ for?” Who is it helping? Whose life is it making easier or less complicated? I don’t want drama with people, and I certainly don’t want to be supposedly picking someone up for the let down (which is really actually all your doing in “this” if ever true in the first place).

I know I haven’t given those signals, and I know this person hasn’t truly given these signals. And I know theoretically and from personal experience that such chemistry is a mutual phenomenon regardless of the potential indecisiveness of one party. It’s even possible to crush one-sidedly; conscious preferences are like prerequisite gate-keepers that can inhibit one but not the other on account of them not being shared preferences (and commonalities). But chemistry, when it happens, is a product of two.

...You’re creating these scenarios without said chemistry, but supposedly “saying” all the right things (directly out of sight mind you) (cause I’m supposed to run with the mere possibility and not the overt expression), is a vain attempt to prove that what happened on Tumblr or what happened on Facebook was an entirely one-sided affair and that I’m a danger to myself and others because I just happen to people. If you can prove that, then you can prove that your overreaches and criminal activity and the abuses committed at your hands and the immeasurable harm and destruction in your wake is somehow justified... because he deserves it. The padded room in the mock asylum--a justified ordeal--a justified and right destiny for one so troubled. The end justifying the means.

And your game gets to keep going. You need “this”. You need any result that affords you the supposed right to do as you please. Everything you ever do, is an attempt to secure that and to gaslight me into believing any of it. Erase my own grip on reality and on my own lived experience, so you can rewrite history and I’ll corroborate it for you.

[elenariseventide]

[Collab between @areussunrael and myself! Lead in story thanks to @k-sunrael!]

The familiarity of Quel’Danas assisted him. His birthplace wasn’t one he was unfamiliar with over the decades, or even centuries. Ward after ward, rune after rune, even out in the gardens, the Eventide estate was protected more heavily than he anticipated. He slithered about using the darkness as his ally, avoiding guards one after the other. On top of guile was magic that assisted him. A slight mental suggestion incepted into the minds of his targets helped him avoid those that might cross his path. A premature visit to the bathroom, a decision to patrol down the right instead of the left, small choices here and there that averted interception of his presence helped him land his feet on the outside ledges of the highest tower in the eastern wing.

Luckily for him, the Lady enjoyed a cool breeze coming in from the seaside. He casually walked in the window and didn’t attempt to hide his presence. If he knew she was in there, she knew that he was outside and chose not to act. “Lady Eventide…” he offered in greeting as he sauntered about, a slight limp in his step.

He sniffed at the air behind his mask, a familiar smell of smoke and alcohol wafted about the room. “Is that… a hint of bloodthistle paired with a bit of red wine? Very refined if I say so myself.” Areus commented.

The Matriarch would be found in a rather lounged manner, her feet propped up comfortably and each hand held just as he suggested due to the scent in the air. Her gaze slowly lifted to meet the man’s, head tilting not quite out of curiousity but moreso in approval. The wine stained lips curled into a soft grin as she nodded to a vacant chair to her right, adjacent to the table that held the remainder of the wine and an empty glass.

“Areus.” She stated simply, returning her vintage once more to enjoy the taste. “Refined, indeed. Care to join me? I assume you might be here for a bit, seeing as you took such detail in making it to my chambers in the manner of which you did instead of simply asking for me.”

“I do relish a challenge,” he responded with a hidden smile, “However, I relish an opportunity for drink and conversation with an old friend even more.” The man shifted into the empty seat, pouring a glass for himself next to her. “Remind me to bring you something from my own reserve next time we meet. I suppose I was remiss in planning because I was so motivated to see you.” he responded, removing his own pipe and lighting it with the flash of his fingertips: a simple trick for a spellflinger. He tilted his mask down just enough to situate and puff from his elegant pipe, “For what little it means, I did miss your company, Elenaris. It’s been some time, hasn’t it?”

She retained her gaze toward him for the time it took for the masked figure to find his seat and pour his glass. A simple breath filled her lungs, the rise of her chest preluding to the slow release while her attentions turned once more toward the horizon just on the other side of the balcony. “Ah, Areus, you are quite the charmer, hm?”

A single inhale came as her lips cupped the small pipe between them, the trail of smoke soon following. Lids lowered as she relished in the often frowned upon vice, placing it at her side as she no longer needed it. “It has not been that long, though I suppose if you miss someone’s company then you miss it despite the time.” As the words flowed, she found herself looking over to him yet again. “And yet, I feel as though there might be something you want as a more likely outcome.”

He sighed lightly, taking another puff from his pipe. He reached over to the wine to give a light sip. “You certainly do have taste. I prefer the more bitter stuff though.” he commented. His eyes found hers and and an appropriate reply. He placed the glass back down before he opened his left hand, attempting to hide the wince he held due to the pain at his side. An orb formed within his palm consisting of shadow energies swirling with no end. The energies found form and converted into a raven that flapped its wings. “I understand that you’re delving more into the darker side of our talents. Embracing the shadow. I wouldn’t dare presume my experience is more well-versed than yours into the darkness because each of our journeys are distinct and unique. However… I would caution you as you step closer to the void. That is the purpose of my visit and my desired outcome.” he continued, “The line between sanity and justice become a little more convoluted with each step we take toward that darkness. You are a paragon of Light, as is my brother, his wife, and to an extent their daughter- your apprentice. But… both you and her dance about a dangerous line that’s very easy to cross. She errs on the side of caution. I feel… the draw of power is more prominent in you. You were never one to allow others to decide your fate or strength, where I think Kaevia takes after you and draws hers as well. But…” his voice took a darker tone,  “She is more cautious in delving to the darkness. However, conversely, this would be an appropriate source for you to bolster your own strength… at a price.”

The dim glow of her green hues held over him as he spoke, ever growing interest with each word. With yet another sip of the wine, she found herself chuckling lowly as a simple gesture came in the form of denial. “Oh, Areus, I suppose this is coming from a place of concern?” Her tone was low, dripping with the tinge of sarcasm as she inquired of her friend.

“The public may view me as a beacon of Light, a shining star among the night sky, or even a guiding hand through a bitter and dark path… but that is not what I am and you should be far more aware of that than most. The Light left me years ago, and I in return shunned it from ever having any power over me by any means.” The woman leaned toward him, her weight resting upon her arm that rested against the chair. She reached her own hand outward, after having set aside her glass, swirling it through the gathered shadow energy that levitated above Areus’ palm. “However I am curious, what makes you so sure that I seek to delve further into the void?”

He sighed, “Because, the void calls to you. It calls to those who seek it and embraces them. In the same manner as those paladins and priests who seek to worship the Light find the Light… the Darkness finds those who want it. I know you tread a different path, I was just afraid you’d dive down into it further than most and drown into it. Especially with the draw it has to you. I’ve taken an item that rightfully belong to those who serve my niece, but I felt its hunger. And I felt its desire to connect with you. Nothing good can come from this, but it isn’t my place to obstruct it.” he muttered out as the shadow raven in his hand collapsed, the dark energies spinning yet again to form a simple stone. “Whoever contracted my niece drew her to danger by doing so, I couldn’t let her take possession of it lest I risk it corrupting her. Yet here I am, drawn to its object of obsession and asking you to turn a blind eye, and not accept the voices that escape from it.” The diamond shaped relic spun and shined a purple hue along the runic incantations carved onto the small stone.

Just as quickly as the shadows faded, her eyes fell to the familiar item. The twitch of her lips upward in a smirk came almost unknowingly to her conscious mind, her features slowly turning into something darker. “I told Whitstan not to give it to her, at the very least it fell into better equipped hands.” A silent moment came over the two as she spent the time to take in every little minor detail of the item. “And if I were to agree to your...pleas of concern for my, what would you call it, well being?” The movement of her head to offer her yet another gaze over Areus came in a bit of a jolt. “What would you do to it?”

“Lock it away.” he responded, “It’s too precious and near to the void to destroy. It might be what makes or breaks our war against the Legion, or even further enemies away in more distant stars. I can’t risk it getting into the wrong hands. But… yours, might be the right ones. However I’m sure you sense my hesitance. If it corrupts you, there’s a lot that I imagine I’d be responsible for… for instance…” he paused to take the glass into his hand once more, downing it all in one go. “If you’d lose yourself to the darkness and harm others, their blood would be on my hands. And if ever you became a threat to my niece, no matter how good of friends we may have been all these years… I would have no choice but to silence you, permanently.” he shook his head, “That’s not something I wish for, nor something I wish to be the man responsible for initiating. I don’t mean this as a threat. Please, consider your options before you act in this. That’s all I ask. That’s all I’m here for. The darkness calls for all three of us, even little Kaevia. I just don’t want it to consume you.”

She held her hand just inches away from the relic, her gaze falling once more to it. “Your concern is properly placed, understandable and welcomed even...I suppose, however I feel this is exactly where my path has been leading me for quite some time. As for your plans to remove me from any equation that might bring harm to Kaevia, trust me when I say that I expect you to do so, even go so far as ask for your word to be promised upon in such regard should I fall so far that such a time would come. I leave it to your hands alone, Areus.” Her words were abrupt and harsh as her hand turned to offer her palm upward to him in request. “If curiosities await you, I will be sure to offer what I might find from accepting this into my possessions.”  

A slight dip in his head came from him. Not quite a nod, but rather a resignation. She had entrusted him with something he had hoped to avoid by warning her. Yet at the same time he had asked for this very responsibility by mentioning it. “I would appreciate any insight you might garner… and… I do offer my word for that I would keep that promise. I pray that the day I need to execute that promise never comes to pass.” he responds as he lightly raises his hand with the floating stone in hand to pass off to her gesturing palm.

Feeling the stone fall into her hand, it carried the weight further than what a simple pendant would, though of course it was obvious to the two of them that it was not such a thing. She retracted her hand, bringing it closer to her person before slowly curling her fingers around it. “And as do I, dear friend and I will surely do my best to veer away from that fate for us all.”  With that, she found it in herself to take the chain in hand that held the stone itself and placed it around her neck. “Oh, and of course, should I come across anything...interesting, you will be the first to learn of it.” She added, taking her glass of wine back up and sipping yet again.

He offered a gentle nod as he poured another rather expensive glass from the elegant pitcher. “Well, let’s pray for the best and prepare for the worst. In the meantime, I hope you don’t mind me finishing your costly wine.” he replied, a playful wink offered her way as he took another puff from his pipe. The friendly banter and joking would have to be carried on as long as it could, for this could be the very last moment he held an amicable conversation with the Lady. He was overwhelmed with concern, yet, he held hope. A hope he would pray wouldn’t betray him. Nevertheless, he was prepared to uphold his promise. He tipped the glass toward Elenaris, “Cheers.”