#when they say ‘those who do not learn from history are doomed to repeat it” they def also mean your own life and family history

[hussyknee]

The fact is that an unscrupulous tyrant mobilizes the suppressed fears and anxieties of those who were beaten as children but have never been able to accuse their own fathers of doing so. Their loyalty to these fathers is unswerving, despite the torments suffered at their hands. Every tyrant symbolizes such a father, the figure whom the abused children remain attached to with every fiber of their being, hoping that one day they will be able to transform him into a loving parent by remaining blind.

This hope may have been what prompted the representatives of the Roman Catholic Church to demonstrate their compassion for Hussein. In 2002, I turned to a number of cardinals for support when I presented the Vatican with material on the delayed effects of spanking and asked the authorities there to do what they could to enlighten young parents on this subject. As I have said, not one of the cardinals I approached with this request showed the slightest interest in the universally ignored but crucially important issue of physically abused children. Nor did I come across the slightest indication of Christian charity or compassion in connection with this issue. Today, however, those same representatives are eager to show that they are indeed capable of compassion. Significantly, however, this compassion is lavished not on maltreated children or on Saddam’s victims but on Saddam himself, on the unscrupulous father figure that the feared despot symbolizes.

As a rule, beaten, tormented, and humiliated children who have never received support from a helping witness later develop a high degree of tolerance for the cruelties perpetrated by parent figures and a remarkable indifference to the sufferings borne by children exposed to inhumane treatment. The last thing they wish to be told is that they themselves once belonged to the same group. Indifference is a way of preserving them from opening their eyes to reality. In this way they become advocates of evil, however convinced they may be of their humane intentions. From an early age they were forced to suppress and ignore their true feelings. They were forced to put their trust not in those feelings but solely in the regulations imposed on them by their parents, their teachers, and the church authorities. Now the tasks facing them in their adult lives leave them no time to perceive their own feelings, unless those feelings happen to fit in precisely with the patriarchal value system in which they live and which prescribes compassion for the father, however destructive and dangerous he may be. The more comprehensive a tyrant’s catalogue of crimes is, the more he can count on tolerance, provided his admirers are hermetically closed off from access to the sufferings of their own childhood.

(Source: The Body Never Lies by Alice Miller)

[darkspace7]

Y'all...

Now just a moment here, while I'm usually an exceedingly stubborn proponent of looking on the lighter side of things and that with all the bad that seems to exist in the world there's at least a smidgen of things that make it worth saving.

It's a list of which seems to be growing smaller every single day unfortunately.

Once more I'm genuinely beginning to wonder if anything this god forsaken timeline really is worth saving or if y'all are just aching for the absolution of utter destruction.

Is the call of the void so strong that you all are just hellbent on having everything destroyed by some rancid flavour wannabe Villain-of-the Week preaching 'Peace and Order' while holding a cocked-gun right at your head?

(Most of them don't even have a sense of style for frick's sake.)

This shit's beyond parody at this point and it's kind of pissing me off.

And I swear, if another thing happens (and no I am not actively tempting fate here, because I have a more than healthy respect for the cycle of karma and my own place within this already tenuous balance as well as the sword of Damocles hanging over our collective head) I'm gonna yeet Apollo's Dodgeball of Prophecy back at your fucking asses.

[hiddenbeks]

so many thoughts abt how schewpid the jedi council is in kotor but also not sure if i should write abt any of them before i finish the game because it's entirely possible that i'm still missing some critical information,

[tatisources]

- 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑

❝ Being your friend should come with a warning label. ❞

❝ It’s amateurs like you who give kidnapping a bad game. ❞

❝ Are you mansplaining my power? ❞

❝ Emotion isn’t exactly your strong suit. ❞

❝ I don’t believe in heaven or hell, but I do believe in revenge. ❞

❝ Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it. ❞

❝ There’s nothing quite like the feeling of being proven right. ❞

❝  Because trust and cooperation have always been the hallmarks of our relationship. ❞

❝  Anytime I grow nauseous at the sight of a rainbow or hear a pop song that makes my ears bleed, I’ll think of you. ❞

❝ I’ve learned so much from you. Part of it is admittedly criminal behavior. ❞

❝ Not hugging is kind of our thing. ❞

❝ When the dance floor calls, you gotta answer. ❞

❝ Typically I have great admiration for well-executed revenge plots, but yours was a bit extreme, even for my high standards.  ❞

❝ Except I won’t cry and whine like a child. ❞

❝ I can’t believe you were in a secret society and didn’t tell me. ❞

❝ You brought a gun to a sword fight. Probably the first smart decision you’ve made today. ❞

❝ Emotion equals weakness. ❞

❝ I find social media to be a soul sucking void of meaningless affirmation. ❞

❝ These are all traits of great writers. And serial killers. ❞

❝ Sometimes I act like I don’t care if people like me. Deep down, I secretly enjoy it. ❞

❝ I like to win. Is that so wrong? ❞

❝ For the record, I don't believe that I'm better than everyone else, just that I'm better than you. ❞

❝ Use the words 'little' and 'girl' to address me again and I can't guarantee your safety. ❞

❝ If he breaks your heart, I'll nail gun his. ❞

❝ You guys are making me nauseous. Not in a good way. ❞

❝ When I look at you, the following emojis come to mind: rope, shovel, hole. ❞

❝ You know the old saying, never bring a knife to a sword fight. Unless it’s concealed. ❞

❝ Secrets are like zombies, they never truly die. ❞

❝ Tears don’t fix anything. So I vowed to never do it again. ❞

❝ Please, flattery will get you nowhere. ❞

❝ I’m not friend material, let alone more-than-friend material. I will ignore you, stomp on your heart, and always put my needs and interests first. ❞

❝ Every day is all about me. This one just comes with cake and a bad song. ❞

❝ Emotions are a gateway trait. They lead to feelings, which trigger tears. I don’t do tears.❞

❝ It’s either they write our story or we do. You can’t have it both ways. ❞

❝ I don’t need your help or your pity. I already have a mother and a therapist. That’s enough torture, even for me. ❞

❝ I don’t bury hatchets. I sharpen them. ❞

❝ Friends are a liability and can be exploited. That makes them weaknesses. ❞

[universe-of-peoples]

Half-baked CHB OC’s PART 2

Child of Ares who is very in tune to other people’s emotions to the point where they know how to either incite a fight or calm a person down with just a few well-placed words. They themself are a very chill person; you wouldn’t guess they would fit in with their hot-headed siblings. But it becomes clear when they leave a trail of people suddenly fighting for no reason, after having been best friends only a moment ago.

Child of Athena with a photographic memory instead of the usual wisdom powers (or maybe in addition to-?). At first no one can guess that they’re any different from their siblings, since they’re just as wise (if not wiser). But instead of relying on magical wisdom powers, they pull wisdom out of all their previous experiences better than the average person could. A mix of “learn from your mistakes” and “those who forget history are doomed to repeat it”.

Child of Dionysus who (upon reaching legal drinking age) just CAN’T get drunk. They’ve tried. It doesn’t work on them. They’re so tired of being the designated driver.

Child of Iris who wears rainbows and bright colors to the point that people in their everyday life begin to think that they’re LGBT. They’re actually straight, but they can’t exactly explain to people that their mother is the Greek goddess of rainbows, so they often find themself in an awkward spot.

Adult child of Tyche (goddess of luck) who owns a casino in Vegas and can control the odds in gambling just by standing in the room. You know the saying “the house always wins?” Yeah, they take that to another level. Super rich as a result.

Child of Hypnos (god of sleep) who’s addicted to caffeine. Energy drinks, coffee, and black tea are a MUST. Their siblings mock them and everyone at CHB is generally confused about them, but if you ask them about it you’ll find that they don’t like sleeping all the time like their siblings do. They need all that caffeine just to stay awake. They act as head counselor of their cabin despite disagreeing with their siblings, but only because they’re the only one awake for head counselor business.

[ziskeyt]

Christie Pits

Today is the 90th anniversary of the Christie Pits Riot. The largest race riot in Canada. Christie Pits is a park in Toronto, Ontario. It's pretty large, and these days is a very active park in the summer and a place for sledding and ice skating in the winter. On this day in 1933 the tensions between the Jews who lived in the neighbourhood around the Christie Pits park and the white Canadians who wished to ally with the nazis, who made up what they called Swasitka Clubs, came to a head during a baseball game. The Jews were joined in the fight by their immigrant neighbours, primarily Italians, who also had come head to head with the white nazis before. These hate-filled Canadians wished to restrict Jews from jobs, education, going to the beaches, owning property, and really, given their alignment with the nazis and proudly waving the swastika flag, we can be pretty sure they wanted us dead as well.

The Toronto Star paper noted that there were ten thousand people who ended up joining the fight.

This is the only photo that exists:

(ID in alt) Christie Pits resulted in one of the first prohibitions against hate speech with the Mayor of the time saying that he would prosecute any future displays of the swastika. If you'd like to read more, Jamie Michaels, who wrote the graphic novel Christie Pits published an article today about the riots:

There was an event today in the park to commemorate the anniversary. As well as a few in May and June, Jewish and Italian heritage months respectively. While I don't know the best way to commemorate a fight like this, remembering that it happened, and why it happened is incredibly important. We're in a time that is very reminiscent to what people were dealing with then; from money seemingly meaning less while everything costs more, to the wealthy flaunting their great discrepancy from the majority, to people walking off work to strike for better conditions. Times of turmoil are times when people will often turn to trying to find a reason for their uncertainty, and as history has taught us, this often leads people to explaining their misfortune by finding a scapegoat -- and that scapegoat is usually Jews. In today's world, there are those who are virulently antisemitic with their whole chests, and those people are easy to point to and say they are what they are. But, we're also in a time where there is a lot of coded antisemitism around, from age-old conspiracy theories, to various racist tropes finding rebirths in memes and "jokes", to character types and appropriation of Jewish culture to make something seem exotic and mystical. You as an individual have the responsibility to educate yourself about racist dogwhistles and coding so you don't go around parroting things you don't believe, and eventually find yourself falling down the rabbit hole of white supremacist rhetoric. They say those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it, but doom makes it sound like something that people aren't able to do anything about it. Learn history. Learn what hatred has looked like in the past and morphed into today. Learn history. You are not doomed and you are not helpless. You too can take part in stopping rising fascism by learning what it looks and sounds like. You have a responsibility to yourself and to the future to learn about where we came from to get to where we are today.

[skaruresonic]

I'm reminded of the split opinion on whether Sonic Gens and Mania are suitable "first games" for people who want to approach the series.

I personally don't think so, because the appeal of those games is precisely revisiting old levels in a new format, with a new design: you're not going to get the subtle jokes as a newcomer (and Mania can get very obscure with it). But some do think they're nice pastiches for newcomers to at least get an idea of Sonic's history as a franchise, and it helps that they're both solid games.

I assumed Shadow Gens would be the same, but you make a good point, because this game has an actual story. For veterans, it's more of the same thing, if you know Shadow's story this adds very little new, and it's mostly a repeat of what he already went through in ShTH. But newcomers who want to learn more about the cool black hedgehog from the new movie would still be confused: why did Shadow become a hero? Who is Black Doom, why is he obsessed with Shadow, why does Shadow hate him? Let's not even talk about things like Mephiles' boss fight lol. (although personally I find Gerald's mention of the time portals of '06 rather cute)

So I guess this game is for veterans who just want to soak in the Shadow vibes once more, but this time with Good Writing™

If you based your knowledge only on the information provided by SxS Gens - so no supplementary material, no Dark Beginnings, no manga, no movie, no paratext - you would learn the vaguest and broadest strokes of maybe two games, SA2 and ShTH, at most. But nothing specific.

Everything else would just come off as garbled nonsense. Hell, it appeared that way to me and I've been a Sonic fan for (checks notes) 22 years. God I'm old.

I approached this game not with my purist hardhat on (though that wasn't always the case given some lines here and there lmao) but from the perspective of a newcomer who knew nothing about Shadow's past. If everyone was going to argue that this game's existence is necessary on that basis, I thought, how well would it perform as an introductory piece?

From that perspective, I don't think the game does a very good job in giving us a crash course on Shadow's history. Gerald and Maria do nothing - I hate to say it but they're ultimately window-dressing. They don't accomplish anything that, for instance, a posthumous diary or recording could have just as easily provided.

(Tbf, the NPCs in Gens also pretty much did nothing but cheer Sonic on, but it's not like, given this sheer gravitas as seeing your dead loved ones return to life via the power of timey-wimey shenanigans.)

I was actually surprised at how little plot progression there is, given my previous expectations of there being, you know, a coherent story. The plot doesn't really kick in until you've completed 4 out of the 6 available levels, and by then you've pretty much halfway done lol.

Shit happens in weird, patchwork, nonsensical ways. We get boss fights for characters that don't matter but not a boss fight against Sonic, AKA the guy we play as in Gens proper and in a context that echoes a game dynamic where we get to fight each character as the opponent. Shadow is the ultimate life form who gets his ass handily kicked by Sonic. Maria has a delayed response at the news of Shadow's heritage; she's not instantly shocked the first time, but when Gerald says it for a second time she suddenly becomes distressed. Omega claims they showed Metal "mercy" at the end of Heroes, despite questioning whether he should destroy Metal or Sonic to prove his strength. We have to fight Mephiles even though he doesn't matter because reasons.

Characters appear who aren't relevant to the plot, but are given the screen treatment as though the game expects the player to know who they are and why they might (or might not) be relevant.

---

Who is Black Doom, why is he obsessed with Shadow, why does Shadow hate him?

>>gets Silent Hill 3 flashbacks as Black Doom waxes poetic about "possessing" Shadow

---

Let's not even talk about things like Mephiles' boss fight lol.

No. Let's. :P

Mephiles' boss is one great big time-wasting in-joke that amounts to an MCU-esque "Well, that just happened." I can easily see newcomers mistaking him for one of Black Doom's minions or something, especially given that his boss arena is found in a cave under Chaos Island and not in Kingdom Valley. Because the latter is where you find Metal Overlord instead.

Yeah, this would definitely confuse newcomers.

As I've said before, the game does the "don't think about a polar bear" thing by bringing up the matter of Shadow's blood, only to backpedal immediately afterwards with "his blood doesn't matter, I swear." At times I felt like I was playing Parasite Eve with talk of mutations and what-not.

And like, sure, the game does stress that Shadow determines his own destiny, but if that's the case, why bring up his blood eighty million times? Why turn it into a friggin' gameplay mechanic? The guy turns into a squid FFS

Oh, and I forgot to mention: the light of God that shone down on IDW!Sonic during his Sermon on the Rock also shines down on Maria when she tells Shadow the reason she gave him his name. Just in case you couldn't get The Symbolism. Very subtle, much cinematic, felt like I was playing SA2 all over again.

[billy-royalton]

*slams this fic on the counter* Okay, look. I've been thinking about the parallels between Sam/Tory and Daniel/Johnny for far too long now. And then then season 6 trailer dropped and my brain would not let me know peace until I wrote this fic so I wrote it over a 48-hour period until I could finally get it all out. Enjoy.

AFTERBURNER | Lawrusso, Samtory, Johnny Lawrence & Samantha LaRusso | T | 8,634 words | non-linear narrative & parallels all the way down

The thing about history is we're doomed to repeat it. That's what Mr. Murray says on Sam's first day of AP World History. It's human nature, he says, to make the mistakes of our ancestors. The only way to anticipate these mistakes is to learn of them, learn from them, and hope we can use what we've learned to avoid the same pitfalls as our predecessors.  --- A fic about patterns, trusting, and how history is always just repeating itself.

The inciting incident, like most things in Johnny's life, is a punch to the face. 

Before the twerp manages to land it — right into Johnny's mouth pow! right in the kisser! — it's just a game to Johnny. Here's this skinny kid moving in on his girl, sticking his nose where it doesn't belong, like a gnat in the sand just buzzing around. And Johnny, sure, he toys with him. Dances around him and lets him try to land one. But it's only when he manages to get a good one in there that Johnny sees red and nothing else. Because who does this kid think he is? Who does this kid think Johnny is? Doesn't he know who he's dealing with here? He can hear Kreese’s voice in his head: the enemy deserves no mercy. And Johnny doesn’t know who this kid is by name but he knows he’s just made a new enemy.

So Johnny shows him. With fists and kicks and a hard landing with a mouthful of sand. Forces him to cover up the dark bruise around his eye with a pair of aviators on his first day of school. Hide those Bambi soft brown eyes from Johnny's field of vision before he can even think about losing himself in them. 

That one punch sets each of them forward on a trajectory they are powerless to change. Their moves are now set in motion, each one preordained: LaRusso ducks left and Johnny swings right, LaRusso runs and Johnny chases. The interference by deus ex sensei only prolongs the inevitable moment: the pivotal accident that the tournament is only a few weeks away. That Kreese will do anything to win, even asking Bobby to fight dirty and deliver that crushing blow to the knee: it’s all a set up for the perfect storm that ends with Johnny’s face getting kicked by what shouldn’t be a long graceful leg but somehow it is. A beautiful kick. And if Johnny’s going to get kicked like that, it had better be a beautiful one. 

Johnny finds himself wondering what would have happened if that fist never swung his way. How different 1984 would have ended. First ever three-time All Valley Champ. Would Daniel LaRusso have found karate without punching Johnny Lawrence first? Would Johnny have found Daniel some other way? 

It's useless to wonder what could have been but Johnny does it anyway. He wastes years on it until one day he’s forced to walk into LaRusso Auto and sees the smug, charming, ageless face that’s plagued him all this time. Another hit, this time a hit and run, that resets the board and puts them in motion again. 

Three and a half decades later, LaRusso swaps a punch for a kiss — another pow! another pop in the mouth! — and just like that first night, Johnny doesn’t see it coming until it’s already happened.

He doesn’t see red but he does strike back. Uses his hands to tell LaRusso just what Johnny thinks about that, one with a grip on his jaw, the other threading through his stupidly soft, dark hair. Pushes him up against the wall of the dojo because this is just another fight that Johnny’s going to win.

LaRusso pulls back with puffed up lips and heavy dark eyes. His hair’s a mess and his grin is infectious. 

Another inciting incident. 

[ivorydice]

Writing Meme: First Line Patterns

Rules: List the first line of your last 10 (or however many you have) posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

I was tagged for this by @amiyade and @avianscribe a little while ago, thank you!! <333

Without further ado:

Noctis walks through the Citadel corridors until he reaches the heart, then he slows his pace. | crystalline

He shouldn’t be out here in the city. | neon lights

A flash of red, and the world spins. | redshift

He should have seen it coming a mile away. | Fade

They say those who fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. | when the stars collide

Ardyn had the same dream he had been having for two millennia. | The Memory of You

“When's your birthday?” | i'm longing to linger till dawn, dear

The house seemed to have every cliche Noctis could think of, and he wasn’t sure if it was something to be impressed by while simply carrying on with their job, or if they should actually follow Prompto’s paranoid rambling advice and turn around to leave. | Flesh Damage

It was ridiculous. | And Dream of Sheep

They’re dealing with a sudden ambush at Wennath Riverhead when everything goes to hell. | Pins and Needles

Some of these are so old, I'm cringing (affectionately) lmao. But I think my first line pattern is I just try to sound as mysterious and interesting as possible haha - definitely in more recent years anyway. I know I've been very conscious of writing advice posts/articles that go on about how the first line is an important hook. So I do try to make it as interesting as possible and try to get the vibes of the fic across immediately lol.

I have no idea who has been tagged for this, but I'm gonna give no pressure tagging to: @wrencatte @kaelinaloveslomaris @omgfloofy @zanarkandfayth @marmolita @every-lemon and anyone else who wants to do it!

[gingus-doon]

omfg i always manage to mistakingly think there is nothing left to Know that will shock me and make me reconsider concerning feminist and queer histories but oh my mother fuckin god yall DID YALL KNOW..ALISON BECHDEL SUPPORTED BI LESBIANS

like i just hhn i wouldve had no idea i would not have even known the concept EXISTED and i, here, stand on neither side as i don't know enough about anything to make a firm point (i lean against but hearing ppl say trans women are facing the brunt of anti bi-lesbian sentiment & the strange insistence on Lesbians Cannot Like Men when trans men in lesbian history, right there-- [how can you say this without undermining trans men's manhood? i don't think you can. hence im content to describe lesbian relationships as those without cis men {though not all relationships without cis men are lesbian relationships, for ex trans gay guys or straight trans relationships} & im not one to brush aside the queer history of transmasc lesboys so easily when i know. So many very lesbian tguys] makes me reconsider)

ITS SO FUCKING NUTS TO REMEMBER THAT FEMINIST AND QUEER PPL BEFORE US ALREADY HAD THESE DISCUSSIONS ALREADY SPOKE WHAT NEEDED TO BE SPOKEN IN MANY CASES AND FORGOING THE ADVICE OF OUR FEMALE AND TRANSSEXUAL FOREBEARERS JUST LEADS US TO HAVE THE SAME POINTLESS DISCOURSES ON TUMBLR DOT COM AGAIN AND SEVER COMMUNITY OVER IT AGAIN AND AGAIN OH MY GOD ITS LIKE A CURSE ITS LIKE WE'RE SISYPHUS ALIENATED FROM OUR TEACHERS CONDEMNED TO ROLL THE SAME BOULDER UP THAT HILL

im just going fucking nuts bcauae it's always like this i will cry ahahhh like

LESLIE FEINBERG. HIR PROPHETIC STATEMENT

AND ITS HAPPENINGGGG ITS HAPPENING THERE ARE TERFS AND THE SEX ABOLITIONIST RADICALLY QUEER RADICAL FEMINISM OF OUR FOREMOTHERS HAS BEEN ABANDONED AND NOW NO ONE LOOKS TO THAT ESTEEMED TRADITION BESIDES A FEW BECAUSE EVERYONE HATES TERFS (rightfully so) BUT DONT KNWO THE EXTENT OF RADICAL FEMINISM UGHDHHHG OOHghhuhh OuhchhHHhn SHAKING .

AND I JUST LEARNED ABOUT RIKI WILCHINS AND THEY WERE A TRANSSEXUAL LESBIAN FEMINST!!!!! TRANSSEXUAL LESBIAN FEMINIST A BEAUTIFUL PHRASE AND NOW WERE IN AN AGE WHERE QUEER NON-LESBIANS ARE LESPHOBIC AND DAMN THE ENTIRETY OF LESBIAN FEMINISM WHILE TERFS DAMN THE ENTIRETY OF QUEERNESS AS IF LESBIANISM CAN EXIST WITHOUT IT OR TRANSNESS AND I JUST.........IDK im crying im rocking back and forth i am holding my temples those who do not know their history will be doomed to repeat it truly

[alpydk]

Eclipse (Part 3) - "Wish"

As Elminster left her home, his eyes passed over the traces of the magical essence that seemed drawn to her, a glowing around her that left his heart broken knowing what was to come; another potential that he may have to play the role in guiding, another pawn in Mystra’s games.3

Ao3 Link

She’d had her eyes on him for some time, the young boy with the natural gift of the weave flowing through his fingertips. It had been centuries or what felt like that since such a mortal had shown capabilities such as his, and for some time she gazed at him from the Outer Planes of her existence. Gale of Waterdeep; he had the potential to be magnificent, to be her chosen as Elminster and so many others had been before him.

Mystra watched as he grew from a young boy with guilt-filled tears in his eyes over burnt roses, to when he became a young man, confident and knowledgeable. Blackstaff had been the perfect proving ground for him, allowing him to be moulded into something she deemed useful, something powerful. As he conjured stars and gazed at clouds, she made plans for him, plans where he would protect the weave that he was indebted to. She gave him time to say goodbye to those around him, promises of his return before he reported to her, before she struck.

To love a goddess is what so many wished for and to be loved by one was more than most could even comprehend, but she gave it to him, nonetheless. There was no real time outside of the material plane, only the flow of energy, of their bodies wrapped together, entwined as if they were strands of the Weave itself. Days passed on Taril, but to them it was minutes, decades, centuries, or mere moments of passion and yearning. Times that she’d had before, with so many others, with Elminster, with Kelemvor, and now with young Gale.  

All these moments became the same though, it did not matter the face or the body; with time came unrest. She had given him all she wanted to and yet still he asked for more, more power, more ways to be better for her as she turned her back on him. To be immortal was both a blessing and a curse. Why would they always ask her for more?

She rolled her eyes as he begged and pleaded for her touch again. Like a small creature of Taril, he looked at her through those guilt-filled tears again and, rather than feel sympathy; she felt bothered by him. Like so many others before him, he wanted more than she was willing to hand over; such was the curse of mortals and their ambition.

“You are already enough.” Her words fell on deaf ears as again he tried to ask for her forgiveness. He had done nothing wrong; they had simply done everything they could together and now she was ready to move on, ready to find someone else who could light that dimming spark within her. It was time for Gale to carry out his duties as her chosen, just as Elminster was already doing. Elminster, with whom she had also grown bored with as time had gone by. Time that meant so little to her. Only a series of moments she was doomed to repeat.

She allowed Gale to leave, hoping that he would learn to accept his role. Love was always the worst of the mortal emotions to deal with, another experience she wished she could erase from her own story. If he was but another god, then maybe this would have turned out differently for them both. Gale was certainly ambitious enough, so possibly he could be what she wanted, be the one to keep her spark alive, but godhood would never be granted to him, no matter how much he wanted to impress her. He was just another expendable mortal.

Again, he came back, now with hypothetical situations, what-if’s she could not ignore, questions of the weave itself and its making, of history long buried and forgotten. She disregarded what he said as old mortal legends, of stories of bardic creation with no truths behind them. She would not grant him the power he wanted. He was to remain beneath her, like all others had before him. His role was as her chosen, nothing more, and he should have been satisfied with that.

Gale, though, of course, was desperate, finding the strand of Weave hidden from all mortals. She watched as he walked down the corridor, his fingers trailing over the dust covered tables, the oak door being pushed open for the first time in generations. She did not interfere as he read the book, as the shadows enveloped his body and he crumpled to the floor in agony. This is what he deserved for his misdeeds, for the greatest of all follies. He screamed, his voice one of nothing but terror as the Karsite weave tore him apart right down to his very essence.

Nothing at all was left of Mystra’s chosen, his body gone, and soul decimated. Gale Dekarios was dead, and there was no possibility of ever bringing him back.

She sighed as she turned her gaze from the closing book. Again, it would be left until another poor soul would find it; Gale was not the first, and as with all mortals, he would certainly not be the last. She sent word to Elminster, a request for a new potential, and observed the drop of his head at the news; so many centuries alive and still he felt for the ones he brought to her.

“Do as you must.” A dismissal of him from her plane of existence as she returned to watching over a projection of a future young girl who polymorphed a beast to protect another. A possible chosen amongst so many soon to be born into existence; Mystra’s magic granted and spread where needed to keep balance. She could sense a familiarity with this one though, a passing glimpse of a moment in time; just another interchangeable face of a loved chosen now gone.

---

“Do as you must.” Elminster had heard these words so many times over the years. Another family to give the news to of the loss of their son, daughter, partner. It never got easier but Gale, Gale was one he had enjoyed watching over, entering his life far sooner than he had others of Mystra’s chosen. Raising him and drinking tea with the boy’s mother. For Elminster, this one was not just another young mage with power and ambition; it was his family. He’d been given the information on what had happened. A lesson is what Mystra had called it, and he had felt the disappointment in all around him. If only he had protected Gale and dissuaded him from Mystra’s clutches, then maybe things would have been different, but there was little point in thinking over what he now wished for.

He first spoke with Morena and watched as she broke down in the only way a mother could do. A desperate keening to have her boy back in her life, a curse towards Mystra and all she stood for. He had wanted to ease her pain but knew that this was something he was unable to do, that the pain she felt was nowhere close to the ache he felt in his bones over this loss. He watched as Tara flew out of the window, most likely in search of a truth she wished she could find, and he longed to give her it; to bring Gale back, or to at least know he had found peace away from the realm of mortals.

The personnel at Blackstaff took the news with dignity, giving silent prayers to their goddess. He’d avoided conveying the exact information to them for fear it would lead to other ambitious magic users trying to retrace Gale’s steps. It was simply an unfortunate accident and one that even Mystra herself could not rectify. They arranged a small collection for Gale’s mother and planned to create a small memorial to him, most likely a painting for their grand walls.

Elminster’s last visit was the one he dreaded the most, to the other student he had watched grow up alongside Gale. She’d been a part of their lives for so many years, meeting Gale on her first day at the Academy as he had threatened to lick the frog from their alchemy class. Elminster had seen the sparks of young love immediately between them, the taunting comments, the blushes and gazes they tried to keep hidden from one another. Even when their relationship became official, he had tried to act surprised for them, asking questions about how long they had known and humouring their newfound love for one another. And yet he knew of Mystra’s demands and so he played his role as expected of him.

She didn’t react to his apologetic words; her face pale and eyes cold. Maybe on some level she already knew as he visited her home to convey what had happened. He gave the same vague explanation to her of what had occurred in the short two months since Gale had left and saw how she simply nodded before sitting down, her muscles growing exhausted against the waves of grief, the mindless turning of the amethyst engagement ring on her wedding finger. He could only give her the words he too had been given when he’d discovered his lover Ammaratha’s methods to bear him a child; “Even the waves of fate can break upon the shores of will.” Gale was lost forever, the fate of their love destroyed by the will of his ambition.

As Elminster left her home, his eyes passed over the traces of the magical essence that seemed drawn to her, a glowing around her that left his heart broken knowing what was to come; another potential that he may have to play the role in guiding, another pawn in Mystra’s games.

---

Gale woke the next morning in his tent at the campsite, his body aching and the orb craving another magic item. He tugged at the ring on his finger, pressing it to his chest and letting his body absorb the traces of the weave, hoping it would keep him going a little longer at least. I spy with my little eye… something beginning with R. Another memory he couldn’t recall: a ring being placed on a finger, tears burning in his eyes, knowing in his heart that something was not right with the moment.

He rubbed at his chest, trying to ease the dull ache that sat there, curious if it was caused by the orb or a remnant of heartbreak he hadn’t felt since Mystra. Though the artefacts were working well, this was not a permanent cure and soon he would have to come up with another solution. His year in the tower had done little to aid in his research. A year, or was it longer than that? He tried to shake off the sleep that was clearly affecting his senses; of course it had been a year. How could he even confuse it with anything else?

He thought over the night before and the sending message he hadn’t received. He had hoped for a reply and yet only restless slumber had been given to him, dreams that made little sense to him and words spoken that only confused him further. His hair lay messily over his forehead as a result and he shook it back, running his hands through it, his mind drifting to a night not long ago with Astarion, where there had been a quiet moment of pale fingertips exploring through dark tresses. Gale wondered if he should try to make things up with him, possibly pay him back by finding a way to remove the taste of the orb from his blood for a short while. If that failed, then wine was always a suitable alternative.

[jessequinones]

Writing Lesson: Remembering the Past

I moved from the United States of America to Australia and since then I’ve tried to rewatch some cartoons from my childhood, mainly ones from either Cartoon Network or Boomerang and I can't find them. They're not on any streaming services and I can’t buy physical copies because they’re extremely expensive. Sure Tubi might have some old cartoons such as Popeye or the original Superman, but I didn’t grow up with them. I wanted to rewatch cartoons from the 60s-early 2000s, shows such as The Jetsons, Flintstones, Yogi Bear, the original Animaniacs, Dexters Laboratory, you get the picture.

So why am I bringing all of this up when it comes to writing? Well it got me thinking that yes, while these shows were racist, and aged like milk being left out in the sun, I would argue that it’s still important to rewatch them. Not just for nostalgia shake but as a writer it’s a good idea to remember the past so we don’t repeat it.

I know, “if you don’t remember the past you’ll be doomed to repeat it” but the thing about that saying is, it’s not actually wrong, but I think it get’s overused so no one understands why we say it.

Stories change and evolve over time. The stories we read and were told as kids, might not be the same ones we tell our children because it doesn’t work for them and that’s ok. Stories are supposed to evolve over the years because they show that we as humans are evolving as well. However, if we start to no longer show the past what lessons can we learn to improve?

You see history is a funny thing, if we know our history and the lessons it brings we can do stuff to avoid making the same mistakes as the previous generations. However, if the previous generation's mistakes are lost in time, how can we avoid them if we don’t know what those mistakes are to begin with?

That’s what the saying means. Remember the mistakes our parents, grandparents, great grandparents and so on so we don’t make those same mistakes. This is one of the reasons why every couple of generations society seems to go backwards since the mistakes of the past are being forgotten or ignored and we do them again.

Now I’m not one of those people who think we should stay in the past, life was better back in the old days because let’s be honest, it wasn’t. We were just kids and didn’t understand how the world works. I think we should be able to tell new stories while also not wiping the old ones from existence just because the old ones no longer make money. Of course, they aren’t going to make money the people who like old things are old and there'll always be fewer old people compared to younger ones.

All I'm saying is that if we could keep the old stuff available for as long as possible, we should try and do so. Is the past embarrassing and racist? Yes, but so are we. As a society, many stories are being told that I already know aren’t going to age well in the next couple of decades but we shouldn’t forget about them. Keep learning, keep improving, keep being better.

If you want to reread some old books as a bit of a history project I got some for you. "The Giving Tree", "Gone with the Wind", "Lolita" (my god is that a bad story, why was that ever popular?) "The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn", "Stranger in a Strange Land". I could go on but those are some classic stories that it would be best not to forget about them. It’s important to understand why they were popular and what newer lessons we can get from them.

I also understand history for most people is kind of a boring subject, and while I don’t have advice on how to make learning fun. Perhaps if you’re a writer, and don’t want to read some old books in the genre you writing in, there might be a Youtube video you could put on or something? I’m not asking anyone to do a ten-page history report, just to try and remember some of the mistakes that were being taught in the old days so we could create new and more progressive ones instead of just repeating the same mistakes and never moving forward.

[robocop1906]

We are now living in a time where the village idiot is looked upon as the savior of our country. He's going to save the squirrels from the Liberal Animal Cops who will kick your door down to gain entry in order to assasinate your pet squirrel! Never mind that he has a problem with technical difficulties when it comes to a microphone and has to mime in a fellacious manner. His millions of followers think he's just a regular guy and it's alright to make fun of disabled people and mention to them that it would be Ok if bullets hit the Fake News instead of him. We are now in an alternate universe of thinking. All of this isn't making America Great. It's making America open to Russian Invasion.

#1. Is this a question or just your opinion?

#2. Unfortunately I also agree..we do seem to be living in a time where village idiots have much to large a platform. I believe I may differ as to we class a the village idots.

#3. The squirrel issue is just an illustration of a much larger problem. A State government that has issues with a squirrel kept as a pet( I do agree the guy should have gone through proper established regulatory channels to keep the animals) but not millions of illegal aliens committing crimes within its boundaries is my problem and if they overreact to a squirrel what's next???

#4. He who? Are your referencing President Trump?

- if so

a. I agree the imitation of the reporter was I'm very bad taste; he shouldn't have done that.

b. I would agree- I would rather a bullet hit anyone other than me or anyone I cared about...kinda feel that's a gimme there.

c. I am not familiar with the microphone reference so I can't comment on that one, sorry.

#5. I agree again; we are in an alternative universe of thinking. Again we may differ on the thought process. But I see things that used to commonly be looked down upon openly embraced, long standing values cast aside, love of country scorned, value of life disregard and yes , in my belief system, evil embraced as godliness...oh and tearing down statues is going to make whose life better????

#6. I fail to see how any of this would make America more vulnerable to invasion by a foreign country..... other than from my views where beta males and keyboard warriors who lack the internal fortitude and YES in some cases the actual BALLS...cause you may have heard it's almost stylish these days to have them cut off and sewn on your chest as tits.... where was I ..oh yeah- they lack the BALLS to stand up for their country, community, family and faith to risk their own lives. Maybe if we trusted adherence to some of our founding principles we could become better. Oh, and before some snippy latte drinking retard chides in saying something about racism and slavery were founding principles-- not everything from our history is/was prefect-- but if we tear down those trace reminders, fail to teach it , fail to be able to have civil discussions about them and by all means-- Learn from it so as to never repeat them -- we will be doomed to .

But that's just my old cynical Gene-X reading into what may have been a poorly formed question. And while I may agree Trump, if that is who you are referring to, since I don't think Biden even knows what a squirrel is these days and I believe Waltz would probably shit himself if he saw.one if real life, isn't a perfect man I do believe he actually loves this country, wants the best for it and is the best choice of what we have been given to choose from.

[mazm-imagines]

Erik, why you hold so tightly to your "made up stories hold no value” claim? When I believe you coudl see yourself as to for example Creature from Mary Shelley book called Frankenstein

"Remember that I am thy creature; I ought to be thy Adam, but I am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. Everywhere I see bliss, from which I alone am irrevocably excluded."

The infamous quote from the Creature struck a few chords within Erik. One of the few fictional stories he let himself read.

"Yes, I am familiar with the Modern Prometheus. While I may relate to Frankenstein's Monster, I must say: there is no use for empathy. What good will it do me?"

Erik buried down his heart a long time ago. Even if he yearned to enjoy his humanity, he didn't see the point.

"Even then... when I do pick up a book, it is bound by the author's feeble knowledge of the world. It makes me yawn. At least with reality, there are many wonders to be uncovered."

"Those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it. I would much rather not be doomed."

[thepowerisyouth]

"History is doomed to repeat itself". It always didnt sit right to me. Time to ask myself why and walk through my thoughts

The concept of time really confuses people (as it should), and any science fiction that is showing things like time travel arent really helpful.

Time is fluid in a sense, yes. But its important to note that while we are all stuck on a firey, warming hellscape known as colonizer Earth-- for all intents and purposes for the next 50 years on mortal, warming earth, time is extremely fixed +/- 1 second/yr nuance for really big heavy things on earth

When I'm talking about us mortals stuck on mortal earth-- No, I'm not talking about "Rich men shoot off to space and watch us from their ships" type people. Because 1) I dont count them as a real, feeling human beings while they dont treat me as one (fairness). Those people are monsters trying to abandon the poor in sake of something for only themselves. And 2) time will start behaving differently in space than on Earth, and those differences in technical maths can be a distraction for real Earth issues

What do I mean it can be a distraction? Well.. science that promotes ignorance & bliss under capitalism is mostly the science that gets propogated is what I'm saying. Like trying to convince people a wormhole 5ft wide could appear in front of them and watching people fail to understand time from that confusing, none realistic lens

Time is 1 second. If its been a minute thats an accumulation of 60 seconds. A year is ~525,600 minutes. 100 years is literally 50 million minutes. One after another and only in that direction. During that time, every single person on this Earth felt the effects of that minute the same we do today

There are a measurable, estimatable amount of collected minutes that this earth has been around. As hard as that is to grasp fully since it would be a DAMN lot of minutes. Imagine the 1990s cell bill Earth would get

Likewise, I get frustrated a lot by the mentality that "history repeats itself". I really think people confuse feedback-effect cycling with time accumulation effects and its not at all the same thing

Political idealogical cycles represent a feedback effect. It plays into my argument about "self-destructive vs self-promoting" behavior.

The place where time comes into the argument is only for the trendline of the cycle. This trendline, time, represents an accumulation of all collective learning which has ever happened in history.

Once a collective learns something, there is no going back on that science unless all the believers of it are murdered in cold blood by genociding colonizers

This is your friendly reminder that it is defeatest, self-destructive mentality to say "history is doomed to repeat itself".

Nope. You just love being a negative nelly who votes against progressive change and is observing the world devolving from those actions on a much smaller timeframe than human development has trended these social concepts exponentially upward

"Narrow minded" I guess is fitting here

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

KAEDE AKAMATSU WINS! FATALITY

Also that Monosuke pack hitting hard!

*Says smoking a blunt*

OH CRAP! KUB DOWN! KUB DOWN!

Monotaro! We've gotta get outta here! Retreat!

*Monophanie and Monotaro rocket themselves out of the lab to escape.

Hey! Get back here! We're just getting started!

Don't! ...hah...Don't antagonize them.

I'm not kidding when I say that took basically every last drop of energy out of me.

*Monokid's Exisal, piloted by Sora, turns towards Kaede, and the hatch opens to reveal the phone inside.

Oh, alright...But hey, we managed to fend them off, so that's a plus!

...

*The hatch for Monodam's Exisal also opens, and the bear peers out to look at the remains of his brother.

I'm...I'm sorry Monodam...

DO-NOT-APOLOGIZE. MONOSUKE-HAS-A-TENDENCY-TO-RUN-HIS-MOUTH-LIKE-HE-IS-BETTER-THAN-EVERYONE.

THAT-MOUTH-IS-WHAT-GOT-HIM-KILLED-BEFORE. THOSE-WHO-DO-NOT-LEARN-FROM-HISTORY-ARE-DOOMED-TO-REPEAT-IT.

Yeah...I guess...

Ugh...

Kaede!?

Hah...The room is...spinning...

*Kaede nearly collapses, but Sora uses the Exisal's arm to catch her.

I think her wounds might have reopened.

SHE-WILL-BE-FINE-IF-WE-GET-HER-TO-THE-MEDICAL-BAY.

Alright...But I'M carrying her.

VERY-WELL.

*With the threat pushed back for now, Sora carries Kaede using the Exisal, while Monodam follows.