#which everyone knows is really a 'paying people properly shortage'

[getdownsaturdaynight]

If I disappear from the net for a few weeks, I’m either immersing myself fully in Cult of the Lamb, or I’m playing VLR an eighth time. Or getting through the 30+ albums on my music queue. Or... sleeping. I like sleeping. Sleeping’s great.

[eldritch-spouse]

Can i ask for even just a little crumb of things about monell? I am a total simp and i need to know more.

I will give you my first newborn if need be

[I don't want your newborn anon, but you will be notified in case I require future sacrificial lambs.]

It's actually "Morell", with an r, kind of like the "morel" mushrooms (I'm so original, yes). I'm very glad you asked about Morell because he's one of my sickest monsters, which also means I will have to warn you before diving into this.

TW: Consumption of humans; Knives and sharp utensils; If you make vore jokes I will clap you.

(Minors dni)

Morell, as you may already know, is working at The Clergy's Eye as the head chef and manager of Floor -1, where the restaurant is usually located (sometimes it's Floor 1, you never quite know since The Clergy is a living, shifting structure). Before he was recruited into the establishment, Morell was known for being an exquisite cook around densely monster-populated areas of the world. He had a personal mission to try and subsequently mimic every dish out there. Truly, there is no monster out there with half the culinary devotion of this mushroom miracle.

However, no one innocent ever ends up working for The Clergy, and Morell is no exception to this golden, unspoken rule. He may be an optimistic, loud sweetheart and worm his way into the hearts of many people, but the lad has some very peculiar tastes that can only ever be sated in the right place, surrounded by people of a similar nature. You see, Morell has cracked the code. Why the best type of meat out there is none other than the one found around the bones of humans! He's made enough meals to confirm that's objectively the case. Point here being, not everyone is very accepting of this discovery the monster made, and as such, not many places are willing to hire him now that his little dirty secret is out.

The Clergy however, sees endless potential in Morell's human delicacies. There's no shortage of creeps who agree with him, people who can safely indulge in their darkest wants inside the establishment. In all his professional life, Morell has never felt quite as appreciated anywhere else as he does in The Clergy's Eye- Where people can truly see the beauty of his work.

If you thought that was bad, then you'll surely hurl at the notion that, mayhaps, Morell gets a little too into the cooking process. Going as far as to get off on it alone. He just really enjoys his craft, you know? There's nothing quite like getting a plump, ripe human delivered to his kitchen, the fear in their eyes. Don't worry, he's nothing if not gentle, you won't feel a thing babycakes... Unfortunately, year after year of cooking humans for the pleasure of others has made the mushroom monster unable to properly behave himself around non-monsters. He'll casually quip about how juicy you look and maybe even grab you around the same way you'd inspect a piglet in a farm.

There's a way to survive being in his clutches, but if I told you that now it would kill the fun, wouldn't it? Try and guess, it's not very complicated.

Fun facts:

Morell's favorite cleaver is called "babygirl", he's quite attached to it;

Probably the most amicable member of The Clergy, always available and ready to work. Avoids drama;

Gets along very well with Gallon, in spite of the two having radically different personalities;

Pay him well enough and he'll cook a monster, no questions asked.

[lesbemums]

Honestly, the amount of time I spend talking and stressing about sperm is ridiculous, especially for a lesbian!!! Straight people, and especially the majority that don’t have fertility issues, have no idea how good they’ve got it.

My wife and I have both always wanted 3 children. However, making our son cost us around £8000. We both work full time and our jobs pay enough to live on, enough to put a way a bit of money each month, we’re comfortable! But it’s just not cutting it when it comes to saving for a second child. We’re worse off now than when we didn’t have a kid, our outgoings are higher having an extra person to feed and clothe and entertain. We’re running a second car and had to take a loan out to buy that second decent car when my old one broke down suddenly. I worked out that at the rate we can save, we can only do IUI twice a year. And it has a success rate of max 20%. How depressing is that? If we wanted to do IVF, it would take us YEARS to save for it. We really hoped we could have a two year age gap between our first two. And the third? We’ve pretty much had to give up on the idea of a third.

We’re in the UK so we don’t have things like insurance, all of our costs are out of pocket. The NHS won’t help in our area until we have 6 failed IUIs under our belts, that will cost us roughly £18,000. Whereas a straight couple has to try via the conventional method for 1 year and fail to get pregnant. Which is FREE. I get that they can’t automatically help us just because we lack sperm but it’s very frustrating.

I was really hoping to be able to afford to try twice more before the end of the year but the costs just keep adding up and making it less likely. Thanks to Brexit, there’s an extra 20% VAT on all things imported into the UK from Europe. Our sperm is shipped from Denmark due to the UK’s shortage, which means roughly an extra £200 per vial of sperm we ship over (we already pay 20% VAT on the sperm when we buy it as well!!!). (I totally voted against Brexit btw and feel even more justified in doing so now.) It also costs €300 for shipping. My wife’s blood test checks ran out in June so we’ve got to fork out for those to be done before our clinic will do my IUIs. Once we get the sperm shipped to our clinic, they will charge us £400 to store it. Currently they’re still charging £100 per COVID test as a precaution (over-cautious in my opinion), so if they don’t get rid of those by the time we try again, it’ll cost us £200 per cycle as they require 2 each time. So it’s not just the £1000 per vial of sperm and £1500 per IUI cycle. It’s mounting up.

My mum and step dad have been really great through all this. They gave us money to help out before we made our first, that bought my wife’s first properly reliable car (and a bit extra when we couldn’t quite swing it), they bought our travel system for kiddo #1 which was pricey! And they’ve already given us £2000 to make #2 which is gone already after the first attempt and all pre-testing that I needed. They’re going to help out again in a few months by paying for a round of IUI too, which I’m so grateful for. But still I’m not sure we can afford the 2 rounds by the end of the year! I’m now even at the point of considering asking for help from other family members. I’ve literally never asked for money my whole life.

I’m really reluctant to have to do any fertility stuff January - March because of the sporadic but often quite bad snow that we’ve got the last few years. It’s a 60 mile drive to our clinic and I had a car accident due to the snow in 2018 so I have major anxiety about driving in the snow. And my wife has major anxiety about motorway driving after a lorry knocked her off the road shortly after my accident. So driving around that time is not ideal. But can we afford the tries we’re hoping for before that? I don’t know.

The next stress is our sperm donor’s stock is running out. Every time I look it’s gone down, and in fact since I last looked, it’s gone down by about 30 vials. There’s only 60ish left total, 23 left of the MOT20 that we buy. The other vials are an extra €400 as they’re MOT30. We’re buying 2 vials for our 2 attempts, but will have to keep a check on them and buy more if we can if it gets crazy low. We really want to use the same donor if we can, so our kids can at least be genetic half siblings. Our donor has no quotas left for UK, which means that there are 10 families that have bought sperm from him in this country. That’s not counting how many from Europe where they don’t have a cap in most countries. So the remaining sperm could sell out FAST with that many people using it!

With the sperm stock being so low, we’ve decided only 2 more IUI attempts and then it’s time for IVF. We’re hoping to avoid having to do something so invasive but we can’t afford to keep trying IUI if the sperm is going to run out. We can’t afford to buy that many vials. The only hope we have of doing IVF is taking out a loan. This stresses me out further since we already have a loan for our car and our outgoings are high. When I’m off on maternity leave, most of that time I’ll only be paid statutory maternity pay which is about £150 a week. It’s good that we get paid, I know a lot of countries don’t get that, but with that much of a pay cut, we’ll be living pay check to pay check, and if we take out loans, I don’t know if we’ll even be able to get by.

If I could live my life without ever having to hear about straight people getting knocked up by accident, that would be great, thanks! It’s so hard to not have access to sperm. Also, if people would stop telling us that there’s ‘no good time to have a kid’ and that everyone thinks they won’t be able to afford it (when they’re clearly not thinking about the fact that we’re concerned about the cost of MAKING a child, not keeping one alive).

All I want is another child, my body knows it’s time, I’m yearning for a baby that doesn’t even exist yet. Waiting is killing me, and not knowing how much time it will take is the worst. And the ultimate agony is knowing that we can’t just keep trying. It feels like we’re in the process of trying since our first failed IUI in May, but each month there’s no chance of success. Every month when I start getting PMS symptoms, the very same symptoms as you might get in early pregnancy, I get sad because I know it’s just PMS. There’s no chance of a baby.

I just want my baby.

[elwingflight]

Coronavirus: Information & Guidelines

What you can do now, and what to prepare for

There seems to be a lack of what-to-do suggestions on tumblr beyond handwashing, so I thought I’d put something together. I’ve never actually encouraged people to reblog something of mine before, but this might be the time. To be clear: I am not personally a public health expert of any kind. Both my parents are (epidemiology/global health degrees, worked for CDC) and I’ve run this by them. My information is coming from disease researchers on twitter and official public health guidelines online. Sources at the end of the post. This is mostly directed at people in countries where COVID-19 has been reported (I’m in the U.S.), but is not *yet* widespread in the community. Written Mar. 1st 2020, last updated 3/9 (shorter, helpful twitter thread here, helpful NPR article here)

General Info

Firstly, a lot of politicians are *still* trying to sugarcoat things, but it should be clear by now that the new coronavirus is spreading widely and will continue to do so. Because of the incubation period, and in the U.S. at least the delay in testing, the number of cases is almost certainly going to increase rapidly in the near future no matter what we do now. Official government sources are helpful, but its also good to look at what experts on viral epidemics who aren’t directly government-affiliated are saying. Their agenda is purely informing the public in the most constructive way possible, without politics getting in the way.

Two key points- COVID-19 can have a long incubation period (the time from when you catch the virus to when you start showing symptoms) and most people don’t get severe symptoms. Some are entirely asymptomatic, but most people get typical flu-like symptoms. Specifically, the early symptoms to watch out for are a fever and dry cough (meaning, a stuffy nose is probably just a regular cold). Its possible but unlikely to transmit the virus while asymptomatic, most transmission happens when you have heavier symptoms.

The most vulnerable people are the elderly (~ over 60) and those with preexisting health conditions (i.e. cardiovascular disease, respiratory condition, diabetes), or a simultaneous infection with something else (NOT kids in particular!) So far the mortality rate has been about 1-2% (compared to 0.1% for the general winter flu - yes, this really is worse). However, that might be an overestimate, both because people with mild cases aren’t getting tested (the denominator should be bigger), and because the early situation in Wuhan, where a lot of our numbers come from, was especially bad in regards to availability of healthcare.

This is an emotional, difficult situation. Don’t panic. The world didn’t end in 1918, and its not going to end now. But it is very serious, and we need to be thinking about it rationally, not pretending everything is just going to be okay, or uselessly pointing blame. Take care of your mental health, and check in with each other. Epidemics test our generosity and selflessness. Those qualities are needed right now, but don’t neglect yourself either.

What You Can Do Now

There is stuff everyone can do both to prevent yourself from getting infected, and to prepare if you do. ***The big picture to keep in mind is that the biggest risk of epidemics is that they overwhelm our system, especially our healthcare system. What I mean by this is that our society is built to deal with a certain volume of things happening at once- people buying groceries, getting sick, etc. If we suddenly all rush to do something, we overburden these systems and they won’t be there for the people who need them most. Therefore our goal is to slow down the spread of disease, buying time and lowering the overall burden on these systems. This is called “flattening the curve”. It looks like this, and I cannot stress how important this is.***

A very helpful thread on preparedness

Staying Healthy

Like similar viruses (think colds and flu), COVID-19 is mostly transmitted from person to person, usually by close contact but sometimes from an infected surface. More here.

Wash your hands. Everyone has heard this one- 20 seconds, soap all over your hands, wash the soap off. If you can’t wash your hands use an alcohol-based hand sanitizer (at least 60% alcohol). But handwashing is absolutely better. Also- cough into your elbow/shoulder, not your hand, and avoid shaking hands- try elbow bumps or maybe a polite nod instead! If you’re handwashing so much that you’re hands are threatening to crack and bleed though, consider washing more strategically or using hand sanitizer instead.

In combination with hand-washing- stop touching your face, especially while out! This takes practice, everyone does it all the time without thinking. A good practice is to avoid touching your face while out, then wash your hands thoroughly as soon as you get home.

Similarly, avoid touching surfaces as much as possible! Particularly bad are door handles, elevator buttons, that kind of thing. The virus can probably (based on studies of related viruses) last a while on these. Regular gloves can help a bit. Use a tissue then throw it away, use your elbow, etc.

Do Not buy face masks! There’s mixed evidence on whether they’re at all helpful when used by the general public to prevent catching a virus, but actual medical professionals who need them are facing shortages (that’s probably part of why so many healthcare workers got sick in Wuhan), so our buying them up is really bad. The only times you should be wearing them is if you yourself are sick (they do help then!) or if you’re looking after a sick person. Seek instruction in that case in how to use them properly. (Thread on why buying those fancy masks is not good).

If COVID-19 is in your community, try to stay 6 feet from people, which basically means going places as little as possible. See below.

Planning Ahead

Its also a good idea to prepare in case you need to self-quarantine. Self-quarantine is necessary if you’ve potentially been exposed to COVID-19, or if you’re sick but not enough to need to go to the hospital. Follow local guidelines- if there’s lots of transmission in your area, nonessential workers will probably be advised to stay home as much as possible.

If you’re able, get medication now. Don’t go crazy and buy out the drug store, just a reasonable amount. Try to get at least a month’s worth of any prescription medications. This can be hard at least in the U.S. - your doctor may well be able to prescribe more, but insurance companies and drug stores can be terrible. I’ve found trying a different drugstore can sometimes help. Try your best. They may also be reluctant to prescribe more to avoid causing shortages. Idk what the right answer is here.

Don’t go crazy and buy out the store, but start getting a little extra shelf-stable or frozen food. Even some root vegetables that will last a few weeks. You want enough for 2 weeks in case of self-quarantine, but you do NOT want to empty out stores. Panic buying is definitely a stress on the system. Just add a few extra things each time you shop. Don’t forget about pets. You can always eat the food and replenish it over time.

Make a plan with your family/community. If someone gets sick or needs to self-quarantine, is there a corner of the house they can stay in? Who can take care of them? etc. I haven’t focused on plans for schools/religious communities/workplaces etc but those are very important too! This is one place where keeping an eye on local and national news is important. In the U.S., for example, school systems are planning ways to make food available to kids if they’re not going to school.

If COVID-19 is starting to spread in your community, think about how else you can be a good community member. Cancelling nonessential doctor’s appointments, surgeries etc may be very important, for example. If schools are closed, can you help out neighbors with childcare? Do you have a cleaner who may need to be payed in advance if there’s a quarantine?

If You Might Be Sick/Need to Quarantine

See likely symptoms above. Remember, normal colds still exist, and if you go to the doctor for every one of those you will overwhelm the system.

Don’t just go to a hospital! Call ahead to your doctor/clinic/hospital and get instructions on what to do. Getting healthcare workers sick is something we really want to avoid. That said, DO get tested as soon as possible, and act as if you are contagious. The health coverage situation is the U.S. is not yet clear (and ofc its not something the current admin is eager to clarify). Hopefully testing will be covered financially by the government, but I can’t promise that at this time.

In the meantime, stay home and quarantined if you show any symptoms of illness if you possibly, possibly can. This is especially difficult in the U.S. if you don’t have sick leave/childcare, but please. Do your utmost.

Look after yourself. Skype/google hangouts/etc is great for keeping connected. Have some chocolate/chicken broth/other sick foods ready.

The Big Picture

Coronavirus/COVID-19 has not been declared a pandemic yet, but it probably will be before long. This is almost certainly going to get worse before it gets better. We don’t yet know if warmer weather will slow its spread, and a vaccine will probably take about 1-1.5 years to be developed and tested. As I mentioned before, the best thing we can do to keep the world working, minimize mortality, etc is to slow the spread as much as we can, and minimize the strain on the system. Hospitals are going to be overwhelmed. There aren’t infinite unoccupied beds or ventilators, or people to operate them, and supply chains could get disrupted. Thinking about these things is scary, and it will take time to adjust to what’s happening. Start that process now, and help everyone you know reach the point where they’re able to act, not panic. Another reassuring thing- if we slow the spread of COVID-19, in addition to fewer total people getting sick, you will soon have people who are recovered and almost certainly immune. These people will be invaluable as helpers in their communities.

Now that the practical stuff is out of the way, I want to say from a U.S. perspective that yes, our lack of social welfare other countries take for granted is going to hurt us. Lack of access to childcare, no guaranteed paid sick leave, and of course expensive healthcare are massive problems that will make it much harder to limit disease transmission. Help each other in any way you can, and vote for candidates that support implementing these policies! And of course, watch out for propaganda of all kinds, whether its using the virus as an excuse for racism, calls to delay elections, etc. So far my biggest concern is a lack of willingness to admit how serious this is, but we can do this. Lets put extra pressure on politicians to be honest and change policies to actually help people. But, yes, lets also stay united. We need each other now (just, you know, 6 feet apart).

A few sources

In general, the Guardian is a great, free, reliable source of news. In the U.S., NPR (website as well as radio) is another great source. The Washington Post and Seattle Times have made their coronavirus-related coverage open access, not sure about other national newspapers.

twitter thread from World Health Organization (WHO)

U.S. Center for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) COVID-19 homepage (not being updated in some ways it should be, like total # of tests)

A reality check from some non-Governmental experts (basically, what governments don’t want to say yet, which is that this virus is going to spread, and the goal now is to infect as few people as possible, as slowly as possible. Read this.)

Why you should act now, not when things get bad in your area (we’re always operating on outdated information)

If you want the latest technical info, The Lancet (major medical journal group) has all of their content compiled here, open access.

I can do my best to answer questions (i.e. ask my dad) but those or other reliable, readily find-able sources should have you pretty well covered. Do let me know if anything on here is wrong or needs to be updated! Stay safe, stay positive, we can do this.

[stealingpotatoes]

First Meeting

Ao3 link

Summary: Alexi Mayhew meets Empress Emily Kaldwin for the first time. But it doesn’t really happen how she thought it would.

(nb: Going off extra lore stuff, Alexi and Emily were close good friends when they were kids, so I thought I’d write a little thing on smol Emily & Alexi meeting cause ya know… why not? Also realised I never posted this to tumblr so... here it is now!)

---

Alexi hated getting dressed up. Back in Potterstead, she almost never had to get all dressed up formally, but she’d barely lived in Dunwall more than two months, and it already felt like she’d been to more formal things here than she had in her whole life before moving here. And in Dunwall Tower -- because that meant they were at the Empress’ court, apparently -- Alexi had to be even more formal. Her almost-floor-length green dress was too stiff and her mother had done her hair up with too many pins. Alexi hated it. 

And they were at a boring meeting or talk or something. But the Empress wasn’t even there, because they were actually seeing her this evening, so really Alexi didn’t even need to look ‘nice’ until then. She didn’t even know what they were doing in Dunwall Tower, really. Her parents owned shops; they weren’t nobles.  

But one thing Alexi did know was that she was unbelievably bored just standing there. So she had slipped out of the room, taken her hair down, and began wandering about the Tower. None of the guards seemed to pay her much mind, so she guessed that she was allowed to. She eventually wound up in a hallway with a bunch of paintings along the walls. Some of them had various Emperors and Empresses, some of them were just random places or maybe events. Alexi found herself particularly drawn to a large painting of an Emperor in a formal-ish military outfit, holding a sword in the air in a very commanding way while on a rearing horse, with parts of a battle going on in the background. Alexi began imagining herself as this great general-Emperor. 

Alexi was so caught up in the painting that she didn’t notice the sound of someone running down the hall until it was too late. The second she turned around to see what was happening or who it was, she was met by the full impact of someone running into her. Alexi painfully fell straight on her butt.

After a second, she opened her eyes to see a young girl with short-ish black hair, probably about eleven or twelve- Alexi’s age, quickly pushing herself up from the floor. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry-- I didn’t see you,” The girl, now standing, extended a hand to Alexi.

Alexi took her girl’s hand, and she helped pull Alexi to her feet.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry.” Alexi said, moving her braided hair behind her back and dusting herself off, “Though, maybe look where you’re going next time?”

“...I had to check if I was being followed!” The girl exclaimed, “But- yes, sorry, I’ll… do that.” She rubbed her arm sheepishly. 

Now that they’d both stopped moving, Alexi had a better look at the girl in front of her. She was taller than Alexi, a little lanky really, and wearing an expensive-looking black trouser suit with fine silver embroidery and white trimmings. Her hair had been messed up, probably from the speeding down the halls and the running-right-into-Alexi. 

“Who might be following you?” Alexi asked. 

The girl tilted her head to the side, “Um- a few people...” she paused and looked Alexi up and down, “I don’t think I’ve seen you here before?” 

“This is my first time in the Tower” Alexi fiddled with the fabric of her skirts a little, “I’m here with my parents. We’re supposed to be meeting the Empress later today or something.”

The girl looked at Alexi thoughtfully before smiling like she knew something Alexi didn’t, “Why aren’t you with them?”

“I was with them, at some really boring meeting-talk-thing. But it was um-- really boring. So…” Alexi shrugged, “I thought I’d explore.” 

The girl laughed a little, “There’s no shortage of boring meetings in Dunwall Tower.” 

“Do you have to go to those things with your parents too?”

The girl did that smile again, “Something like that…”

Alexi ignored how vague the girl was being, “Um- what were you running from?”

“My lessons.” 

“Oh- That explains why you were running so fast.” Alexi said, smiling. Did people have lessons in the Tower? 

The girl giggled. “What’s your name?” 

“Alexi Mayhew.” Alexi said proudly, “What’s yours?”

“Emily Kaldwin.”

It took a second for the penny to drop. Alexi knew that Empress Emily was her age, had black hair, and she had a rough idea of what the Empress looked like from newspapers and various images. Maybe she just wasn’t actually expecting a child, someone like her -- maybe she’d imagined someone more like the paintings around her, all regal and not running down hallways at great speeds. But Alexi really should’ve noticed it sooner. 

This realisation must have shown on her face, because Emily giggled a little. 

Alexi’s brow furrowed, “Um- Do I have to call you Your Majesty? Or bow…?”

Emily seemed to think about it for a second, “Technically yes, but you can call me Emily.”

“ Phew. Well uh-” Alexi put her hand out, quickly recovering- “it’s nice to meet you, Emily.”

Emily looked at Alexi’s hand, slightly confused, for a moment, before suddenly shaking it, “It’s nice to meet you too, Alexi.”

Neither of them said anything for a few moments, and Alexi found herself looking at the painting that they were both standing under again. 

Emily glanced up at the painting too, and then at a clock near them, “Do you want to see some actual fighting?” 

Alexi nodded enthusiastically. 

Emily gestured for Alexi to follow, and led her along two halls, until they reached a window seat. Emily climbed into the alcove on her knees, before looking back and gesturing for Alexi to come up, “Come on!”

Alexi pushed herself onto the window seat to kneel next to Emily, and looked out the window. Alexi put her hands to the window sill. Below them, the Dunwall Tower guards were sparring with each other in the training yard. There were maybe 20 guards, plus a captain walking in the space between the sparring matches, yelling things Alexi couldn’t hear. They were all duelling with swords- properly fighting

“ Cool, ” Alexi grinned.

“I know,” Emily said, still staring out the window. 

The guards continued to duel below. They were all good duellists, which made sense, seeing as only the best of the City Watch guarded Dunwall Tower. It was impressive to watch all of them fight. 

“I want to be able to fight like that,” Alexi said, not taking her eyes off the

“Me too,” Emily said, a little quieter than before. 

“When I’m old enough, I’m going to join the City Watch.” Alexi turned to Emily.

Emily faced Alexi, “Maybe I’ll see you training out here soon.”

“Yeah! And you- when you learn to sword fight too.”

Emily chuckled a little, “I don’t think the City Watch will let me spar with them.”

“Why not? It’s technically your training grounds, right?” Alexi twisted her hand on the sill in Emily’s direction. 

Emily tilted her head and smirked, “I suppose so.” 

Alexi turned back to the window and stared at the guards, still duelling. But she saw Emily looking at her in her peripheral vision and turned her head to face her. “What is it?” she asked, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. 

Emily half-shrugged, “Everyone’s usually so weird around me. But you’re… not. You’re different.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Alexi asked, cautiously. She was pretty sure that she was ignoring every single piece of ‘etiquette’ she was meant to know, but etiquette was dumb, so she didn’t care. 

“Oh- no! Definitely not. No, it’s a good thing.” Emily smiled reassuringly.

Alexi smiled back, “So what’s weird? Do they ”

Emily returned to looking out the window and Alexi did the same. “No, people just act like I’m made of glass or-- Woah , did you see that?!” Emily asked.

“See what?” Alexi looked between the guards. 

Emily pointed to a guard on the floor, “His opponent just dodged him perfectly and did this uh- leg swipe, and floored him! It was awesome!”

“Maybe he’ll do it again--”

“Emily?” A man’s rough voice came from the end of the hall, interrupting Alexi.   

Emily glanced behind her before looking back to Alexi, annoyed, and huffing, “Callista got Corvo to find me.”

“As in Corvo Attano?” Alexi asked, eyes widening.

Emily nodded. 

Alexi knew she’d get to see Corvo Attano today, because the Royal Protector was almost always with the Empress. And if Alexi was being honest, she’d been way more excited to see him than she had been to see the Empress. Because- well, Corvo Attano was a legend! Alexi had heard that he could fight ten armed men at once, with just his bare hands . And that he was the best swordsman and hand-to-hand combatant in all the Isles. And that last year, he’d escaped Coldridge Prison (Coldridge! Nobody escaped Coldridge!), saved Empress Emily twice, taken down the evil Lord Regent (and those other bad people who ruled for like 2 days afterwards) and cleared his name, almost entirely by himself! Earlier, Alexi had almost been hoping that some assassins or something would show up when she was meeting the Empress, just so she’d get to see him in action. And so everything would be less boring. 

Emily got down from the seat and Alexi followed suit. 

As they got down, a man in a long dark blue coat with gold-yellow trimmings walked around the corner. “Emily-” he said, seeing them and picking up his pace a little. He stopped when he was about a step or two away from them. 

Alexi looked up at the man in front of her. She could definitely believe that he’d done all she’d heard. He was so tall as well. There was a sword at his belt- well, a sword hilt. It didn’t have a blade, which was weird. 

Alexi stood up a little straighter. 

“Corvo, this is Alexi Mayhew. Alexi, this is Corvo.” Emily said, gesturing between Alexi and Corvo. 

Corvo gave Alexi a nod and a smile in place of a greeting. Alexi copied him and smiled and nodded back, hoping she didn’t look too in awe. 

Corvo turned to Emily, “You’re meant to be in lessons, Your Majesty.”  

Emily huffed and dropped her shoulders, “I know, I’m coming.”

“Miss Mayhew, do you need someone to escort you back to your parents?” Corvo asked, looking at Alexi again.

Could he read her mind?! Or… was it just his job to know everything that happened in the tower…? Probably the second one. “I um- yes please.” Alexi said, fiddling with her dress again. 

Corvo gave her another single nod, before turning away slightly and making eye contact with Emily. 

Emily moved next to Corvo, “It was nice talking to you, Alexi.”

“You too!” Alexi smiled.

With that, Emily and Corvo turned and began walking away. Emily smiled and waved over her shoulder as they walked, “See you later!”

Alexi waved back. 

-

“You took longer than usual,” Emily said once she and Corvo rounded the corner. 

“You two sounded like you were having a nice talk. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Then why did you?” Emily looked up at her father. 

“Because you’re supposed to be in lessons, and you can’t keep Callista waiting forever,” Corvo said, glancing down at Emily. 

Emily let out a little ‘hmph’ and continued walking, “Can I see Alexi again? I liked her.”

“You’re meeting the Mayhews later today.” 

Emily tilted her head, “Alexi said something like that.” She was glad that at least Corvo remembered her schedule and knew what was happening. Emily knew she didn’t most of the time. 

Emily and Corvo walked on for a bit before Emily spoke again, “You know, really I was performing my Imperial duties by showing Alexi around.”

“Oh? Well, right now, you need to perform your Imperial duty to go to your lessons.” 

“Not if I run off again,” Emily said with a sly grin. 

Corvo put a hand on Emily’s shoulder -- gentle, but firm enough to stop her from moving off too fast -- and looked down at her with an amused expression “ Lessons. ”

Emily sighed, “Fine.” 

[theofficersacademy]

Northeast of Garreg Mach lies Ailell, Valley of Torment. Most know to steer clear, and for good reason: these barren lands full of flame and ire are inhospitable at best, and downright deadly at worst. And yet, there are those who have made for themselves a home nearby, and make of the valley and what scant resources it provides a modest living. These are the monks said to have long used Ailell as a training ground.

TEAM MEMBERS

Ylgr, Rhys, M!Kris, Salem, Merric Constance, Bernadetta, M!Kana  Serra, Celica, Marth, Marianne

TEAM TAG: #LabyrinthValley2021

Locations:

Seitra: The quiet, religious village of Seitra, nestled just beyond the valley at the mouth of the river feeding into the bay. Its people live a predominantly ascetic lifestyle: they take not more than they need. What necessities they cannot gather for themselves, they acquire through trade. Up until somewhat recently, the village had been united… but now they are split into two factions: the Devout, and the Heretics.

The SS Ambrus: Ailell may or may not have been filled with water at some point - at the very least, that is one of the many rumours surrounding the shipwreck sitting abandoned on the outskirts of the Valley of Torment. While much of the ship has fallen into disrepair, there are a few pieces left remarkably well preserved, seemingly made of a foreign material and inscribed with strange symbols. The locals give it a wide berth -  some say it even glows at night…

People of Interest:

Kassian Wright, aka Kass: Seitra’s fearless leader. He showed up out of the blue one day spouting what must have sounded like wisdom and, seeing it as a sign from their beloved Seiros, the villagers bestowed upon him the mantle of leadership. Some have come to regret such a course of action given the man’s unconventional manner but they keep this judgment quieter than not. He has been missing of late, but it’s fine. Perhaps he is simply on an extended trip into the valley, off to meditate and offer up his prayers for divine guidance.

R’wena Llmlasca: Head of the so-called Heretics faction. Gentle but steadfast to first appearances, she is more than capable of snapping a man in two. She blames the Devout for Kass’s disappearance, but isn’t likely to share much more than that… at the least, not without a drink or ten in her system. She is fiercely protective of those she has taken under her wing, and is wary of the new extremes the Devout are reaching in their worship of Saint Seiros. Rumour has it she is rather infatuated with Kass, but no amount of drink will see her admitting this as truth.

Argeldt the Holy Fist: Head of the self-titled Devout faction. At a distance, he might seem a frail old thing, hardly worthy of the name bestowed upon him in his youth. To underestimate him however is to do so at one’s own peril. The Devout he commands are growing restless, and seek to rise to ever greater heights in their quest to prove themselves worthy of Seiros’s blessing. The conflict between the two groups has yet to fully come to a head, but that is most likely because Argeldt is R’wena’s father. How long remains before the precarious balance tips?

Things to Do:

Get to know the locals! Most of what they need they can get from the bay or the plains near Seitra, but what they cannot they venture into town to trade for… and in order to acquire aught of value to exchange, the monks delve into Ailell to scavenge. Their quarry? Precious metals, rare, hardy plants, or even piping hot lava... Anything goes. Might be they’d appreciate a fresh set of eyes to scout new prizes worth exchanging.

While some monks may hunt for treasure, others prefer to track live prey. Whether it’s capturing rare lizards that scurry between patches of lava, or the flesh and bones of the monsters that call Ailell home, there’s no shortage of suitable goods. If you’re lucky, you might even run into a lava worm. There is no higher honour than besting one of these, although rest assured the locals will offer stiff competition.

Join the Heretics for a lovely afternoon of song and prayer to the Saint. Of course, there is much to be done, so as soon as they are finished, it’s back to work for most. Some, however, stay behind to chat with the potential new blood Garreg Mach has dropped at their gate. While the monks of Seitra are content with their minimalist lifestyle, that doesn’t mean they can’t show you how they go about making small gifts for friends and family. It is their way of appreciating nature’s wonders and sharing Seiros’s bounty with all, and they are glad to impart such teachings with others. The most important part of the process? Keeping whoever you’re making your gift for in mind as you work.

Or, if one prefers, they can join the Devout and learn how worship is really done! Wander over yonder to the back of the village, where their ceremonies take place. Something’s… off about this specific statue of Seiros, properly towering though it may be. Perhaps it’s the tears of red painted beneath the eyes. Or maybe it’s the brambles threatening to choke out the light all about, thick enough to shield from the coastal air. Might be the gravestones scattered at the statue’s base. Anyway. Bad vibes. Oh, and let’s not forget the Crest Beast sitting chained at the altar.

The village children have arrived, and they demand of these strange intruders a tribute for trespassing on their land. This tribute, of course, is to be paid for by way of games: whether it be Extreme Freeze Tag (in which everyone frozen goes after the last man standing - does it pay to win, in this case?), Extreme Hide and Seek (do be sure not to lose one of the kids in a puddle of lava somewhere), or some other manner of entertainment. Oh, and they won’t leave you be until they are satisfied their tithe has been paid in full.

[tepidcope]

I cut myself for the first time today

I’ve wanted to do this for a long time now, but managed to convince myself that I had to wait until I found the perfect knife for the task. Had this mindset for a variety of reasons (not least of which is because of just how sexy knives are), but it only occurred to me today while spiraling pretty badly that I could just grab a razor. It was shockingly effortless, barely had to press in at all with a corner to make a kind-of-clean cut in my thigh. I don’t yet know how to accurately describe the feelings that followed, other than that they were predominantly intensely positive, and that they reminded me of how a friend described being on a concoction of euphoria-inducing drugs during a very tender and passionate night. There’s also a number of reasons as to why I’ve wanted to self harm in this way for so long, but they nearly all stem from the same source. My external circumstances are pretty great, definitely the best they’ve ever been. I’m constantly surrounded by loved ones, have a vibrant social life along with a high paying steady job and promising career. But I’m strangely disabled. My health has been deteriorating for several years now, to the point where I can’t perform a vast majority of tasks. I can only walk or stand for brief periods of time, I can’t sit in most positions, I can’t lay in most positions. I can’t cry too hard, or laugh too hard, or get too stressed, or really get “too carried away” expressing any emotion. I can’t enjoy most of my hobbies, old or new, I can’t communicate in the ways I want, I can’t interact in perfectly ordinary ways with people around me, ways that they all can. I can just manage to hold on to my current job, and I can still help in a minimal way with a small handful of errands, though if my health keeps getting worse then even this might change. The problems that appear in my body accumulate and get worse everytime I try to perform any of these ‘forbidden’ tasks, and it also becomes easier to trigger these problems after every occurrence, a vicious feedback loop. But I don’t know what’s causing all this, despite trying desperately to figure it out all this time. I can’t treat any of the health issues once an episode has started, and I can’t do anything to prevent an episode from starting either, except for avoiding all of the no-go activities. Neither I nor anyone I’ve talked to about this has even heard of a good portion of my symptoms, and online research yields consistent dead ends. I’ve simply had to sit here and put up with my circumstances, watching everyone around me make personal progress, work towards their goals, enjoy life. I’ve done what I can to help people around me, and I’m very happy that they get to have so many positive experiences! But because my body doesn’t let me do the same, it feels like I’m forced to sit on the sidelines, leading me to feel incredibly isolated. Despite this, I can’t talk about certain things concerning my condition to people I know, doubly so if they’re close to me. I can’t talk about most of my thoughts on the topic, I can’t talk about actions I perform to deal with it, like the one in the title. There’s no risk of me ending my life unless certain events happen, but that doesn’t stop the depression and suicidal ideation from getting worse. I don’t think I’m going to end up harming myself in any serious fashion, and I don’t really want to cut myself again, at least for some time. There’s a few reasons why I can’t talk to people I know about most of these thoughts, but one of them is that my friends and loved ones have no shortage of problems and worries weighing them down, making their own lives more difficult than they deserve. I don’t want to add my own worries to their lists, not unless I’m given reason to hope that things can improve for me in the near future. So I’ll post about my experiences anonymously. I’m not really looking for engagement, I just noticed that when I tried keeping a private journal, a lot of what was written I ended up forgetting about. I remember the experiences, but end up forgetting many of the thoughts and reactions I had to them. For some reason I don’t like that. Giving myself the peace of mind to allow for the once in a blue moon chance for feedback to trickle back to me reminds me that I had them, which I think can make them feel more real, and might make it easier to form more salient memories about my personal journey. I already feel quite like a ghost, not yet dead but certainly not living. I don’t want my lived experiences to vanish as well. I’ll end my first post by mentioning there were a good number of firsts today. Many of them weren’t good, but I’ll talk about the one definitely good one. 

As I struggle more and more to perform my daily tasks, I haven’t been able to figure out or implement solutions around them. My income is high and stable, but so is my student debt and general cost of living. I barely have any savings providing for myself and loved ones, let alone extra spending money to renovate this house to be disability friendly. If I can’t do a task anymore, I’ve had to just, stop performing it, and instead rely on the good will of people around me to help me out whenever they have the time and ability. One of the only confirmed diagnoses I have is pretty severe POTS, which is a part of why I can only walk or stand for very short amounts of time. I’ve been taking more baths instead of showers to compensate for this, though it makes washing and properly taking care of my hair much more difficult. Only last week did it click that I could sit in the shower in a chair as long as it was water resistant and could fit, and bought a cheap plastic IKEA chair. Placed it in the tub, sat in it in a few different configurations. And for the first time in so many years, I had a comfortable shower. The light-headedness, dizziness, racing and pounding heart, cloudy mind, all of it was gone and I was allowed to enjoy being in the shower again. The POTS seems to be rather independent of my other issues sadly, and I’ve had it for twice as many years as my other issues, if not longer. And for the first time, I reclaimed a part of my life that has been slipping away from me.  For the first time today I self harmed with a razor, and for the first time in a long time today I got to enjoy taking a shower again.

[ahiddenpath]

Grumble grumble

Gonna grumble about life below the cut, lol!  I’m mostly talking about covid-19 in the states.

A few states have closed down public schools for the next two weeks, which means that many parents are unable to go to work (many daycare centers follow local school shut downs).

My workplace responded by telling everyone who can work from home to work from home.  I am a hands-on lab researcher, which means I must continue coming in.  However, they created a temporary category of leave for folks who have been exposed to covid-19, or who are showing symptoms.  They are paying workers to stay home if they are symptomatic.  So really, this is a generous and effective policy...  Provided people use it properly.

And any system that relies on people behaving sensibly is a bad system.

What people don’t seem to realize- even people who work in pharmaceuticals?!- is that covid-19 symptoms aren’t limited to coughing and fever.  It can also look like the common cold, especially in young, healthy individuals.

I nearly lost my cool yesterday because two of my direct, lab-bench buddy coworkers have been coming to work with cold symptoms.  Another was coughing all day, until people shamed him into going home.  Meanwhile, one coworker was explaining that her husband’s coworker was exposed to covid-19.  I asked why the hell she was here, and she said she’s quarantining on Monday when our telework option officially starts.

Guess I’ll just die potentially become a walking incubator of a disease that could kill other people, then?

Situations like covid-19 call for strict, clear rules stated by the federal government and enforced all the way down.  All travelers from impacted areas must be tested/quarantined.  Telework is mandatory when possible.  Anyone showing any kind of illness symptom must be sent home and put on paid admin leave.  Is this disruptive?  Yes.  Will people abuse it?  Yes.  Will it drastically reduce the scope of the pandemic and save lives?  Yes, so it’s worth it.

Sadly, Trump removed the people who handled the Ebola threat with clear, country-wide enforced rules and...  Never... replaced them.  We do not have much in the way of federal guidelines, leaving state leaders to decide what to do about covid-19.  When Congress tried to get approval for mandatory paid leave for people exposed to covid-19, it was shot down.  We don’t have enough covid-19 testing kits.  Our federal government has done nothing to protect us, even though they had time to prepare compared to China, and even Italy, which is... beyond frustrating.  Beyond the pale, really.

I’m trying to do stuff to help?  I pointed out to my boss that our water bottle filler operates by pressing a lever to release water...  And people press it with the mouths of their water bottles.  He blinked and said, “Yikes...  I dispense the water with my cup, too.”

Humans are humans.  Scientists are also short-sighted humans, just like everyone else.  And if people who have dedicated their lives to creating life-saving medicines can be this ineffective in a pandemic situation...  I dunno, I don’t think the future is looking good.

As for the non-scientists in my life, they’re literally more worried about toilet paper than the disease.  I told my mom that I’d get her a bidet attachment, and she was insulted?  I dunno what it is about Boomers that makes them derive genuine pleasure from hating anything that reduces waste.

If you’re interested, here is what I’m doing to try to stay safe:

-Wash hands with soap and water for 20 seconds, frequently.  Do not substitute this with hand sanitizer.  

-Do not touch your face.

-Sanitize your phone and computer daily with alcohol wipes (Lysol is better, but check your device documentation to be sure it can withstand it).

-Don’t worry about toilet paper, buy a gosh danged bidet attachment.  Also, food and TP shortages are not the problem.  Even in quarantines, food stores should be open.  But, if you buy produce or anything loose that people can touch, clean it thoroughly.  A sick person could have handled it.

-Don’t eat out.  Sadly, food industry workers rarely have sick leave and are forced to come in to work when ill.

-Avoid crowds whenever possible, push to telework if you can, don’t travel.

-If possible, stay home if you have any kind of cold or flu symptom.

-Sanitize your home.  Look, I love gentle solutions as much as the next Millennial, but it’s time for bleach and Clorox.

-If you must report to work, inspect the communal coffee/water dispensers.  Could they potentially spread disease?  If yes, report the concern and don’t use them until they are replaced with safer alternatives.  Also, do not eat food left out in communal areas following meetings.

-(Edit:  I walked back this stance in a new post after talking about this in therapy.  I no longer recommend what you’re about to read in this bullet.  Check the post linked at the bottom of this post for why.)  If your coworker is sick and your company offers sick leave/admin leave, shame them, report them, get them out.  I have coworkers who call this a dick move.  I respond that taking the risk of turning everyone around them into covid-19 incubators soars beyond ‘dick move’ and into the realm of ‘endangerment of the elderly and the immunocompromised.’  (Seriously, at least two of my coworkers have immediate family members who have no immune system and wouldn’t stand a chance against covid-19).

-If you’re in the states, you might not be able to be tested for covid-19.  I really don’t know what you’re supposed to do if you think you have it, other than immediate self-isolation.  Calling your doctor for advice is probably the best place to start.  I would not roll into a medical facility without calling ahead.  There might be infected people there, and they might not even have the kit to test you.

In closing, if you are healthy and under age 65, you will most likely be fine if you are infected at this point in time.  But about 3.6% of the USA is immunocompromised.  About 12% is elderly (over 65).  In 2018, there were 327 million people in the states, ish.  So that’s, what...  About 51 million people at risk in my country alone?  

If the pandemic grows beyond the point where our medical system can handle it, even young, healthy people will be at risk, since people won’t be able to receive proper treatment.

I realize this is scary and disruptive.  I’ve never had trouble sleeping in my life outside of jet lag and situations where I was in too much pain to sleep...  But now I’m struggling.  My costochondritis is having a field day, lol!  

Please, please take care of yourselves and others.  I love you!  Take care.

EDIT:  Hey guys!  So I had a therapy session on this topic, and I walked back my stance on some of these points after she pointed some things out to me.  It’s a fascinating mini case study, so please read it!  Also: please don’t force your ideas of what should be done on other people, like I suggested above, that’s the main thing.

[vaniri]

Eye of the storm [Arthur Morgan x Reader] - CHAPTER 1/2

warnings: tuberculosis 😧 (this fic takes place in the middle of chapter 6), light smut (the good stuff comes in chapter 2 😏), a bit of angst? Just loving our ill cowboy ;_;

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You sighed tiredly, leaning against the Saint Denis Stable wall. It was a hard day and you would be the happiest person alive if it finally ended. First, the stagecoach you tried to rob turned out to be completely empty, as all its passengers (and their precious belongings) disembarked at Emerald Ranch. Later, when you were going back to Rhodes to have a talk with your discouraged friend, who had tipped you off about this "wonderful opportunity", you got ambushed. By the damned Lemoyne Raiders! It wasn't the first time that happened, and you were not alone, but you absolutely hated being swooped by these obstinate morons. The fight was tough, but somehow you managed to survive mostly unaffected. Unfortunately, your poor horse, your beloved four-legged friend, wasn't that lucky and got a bullet.

It didn't look that bad, but still scared the shit out of you. You loved this creature and couldn't even think of losing her. You tended to her wound the best you could, but you weren't an expert, so you decided to take her to the city, where the stable owner could examine her properly.

Now you were watching as the man carefully inspected your horse, saying nothing but getting a bit impatient. He was quiet for too long, you thought, and that made you feel uneasy. You moved your gaze to your girl, standing motionlessly where you'd halted her and letting the owner scrutinize her whole without any objections, like a good horse she definitely was. She seemed calm and relaxed under the owner's touch, but in her eyes, fixed on you all the time, you saw she was just waiting for a sign to leave this place.

In other words: she was behaving as usual. That was a good sign.

"Seems like the bullet just grazed her, it's nothing serious." The owner informed, snapping you out of your musing. "She'll be fine."

"Are you sure?" You approached him swiftly, still uncertain. "And is it the only wound? Those... people who tried to rob us, they were fierce. We got under a spray of bullets in seconds, it's a miracle we got out of there alive."

"Her wound may look serious, but I assure you, miss, that it's nothing dangerous. There's no bullet inside, that's for sure. And I didn't see any other injuries, but I'll check again to be certain. I'll clean this one so it doesn't get infected, but she needs to rest now, at least for a day or two, and she'll be fully recovered soon. Would you like to leave her here for a while?"

You were going to agree, but your answer was cut off by sudden coughing, coming from the street. Your heart lurched with fear as it was growing louder and harsher with every second. You excused yourself from the conversation and rushed out of the building, where you knew your companion had promised to wait for you, after paying a visit to the gunsmith.

You found him doubled over by the stable wall, with one of his hands resting on it for support. The other one was clutching his chest, as if trying to ease the pain the coughing was visibly causing. His fit was violent, but fortunately ended pretty quick, and the man could breathe again. He hawked up what was irritating his throat and spit it out on the muddy sidewalk. Not wanting to look at it, he raised his head and then noticed you, watching him with a worried expression on your face. He immediately wiped his mouth with the back his hand and straightened up, trying to look as if nothing had happened. But you noticed the stain of blood his mouth left on his sleeve.

"Arthur?" You didn't even try to hide your concern. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah. That's nothing." He waved his hand dismissively, covering his spit with his foot. "It's this air. Heavy with smoke from all these factories. It's hard to see anything here, let alone breathe with that shit."

You knew it wasn't the air. It was tuberculosis. It's been weeks since he got the diagnosis. During that time his health was deteriorating rapidly, due to terrible accommodation conditions, severe malnutrition, as money at camp was tight and food scarce, and constant stress and pressure some of the gang members put him under. Mostly Dutch, who was exploiting him as if he hadn't noticed the state his "best man" was in. Granted, Arthur did his best to hide the fact that many actions he used to take almost effortlessly before, now became difficult and exhausted him more with every day; but certain symptoms he'd developed were hard to miss. He couldn't deny he got weaker and visibly thinner. He blamed it on the shortage of food, but the truth was he had problems with ingesting even small meals. He had also trouble sleeping, as his coughing often jolted him out of his slumber, and when it did, his recurring night fever shot chills through his body, keeping him awake. Arthur of course tended to marginalize his condition, assured everyone who asked about his health that he was fine and his debility was just a temporary inconvenience. But you knew the truth, you saw it in his tired eyes and despondent face. Every day you watched him wither, succumb to the disease, and it filled your heart with trepidation.

"Yeah, I can feel it too." You played along, trying to lift his spirits. That illness was not only destroying him physically, but also mentally. "It burns my lungs and prickles my eyes. What an awful district to live in."

"The whole city is awful. When we're leaving?"

"Not so soon, I'm afraid. My horse needs to stay here for a while."

"How's she?"

"She'll be fine, but she needs to rest."

"You'll ride with me, then."

"We won't get to Beaver Hollow before night and I'd rather not risk getting into another shooting today." You raised your eyes to the sky. There was probably less than an hour left before the sunset, and riding through the Roanoke Ridge forest in the dark, especially when Murfrees were on the rampage, was a death wish. Which was very convenient for you - your current camp was a depressing place, where people only yelled and accused each other of being disloyal, and you took literally every opportunity to excuse yourself out of it. "Besides, you know I couldn't sleep, being so far away from my girl. It'll be better to stay around tonight."

"So we're setting camp outside the city."

"Where, in the bayou? Gators will eat us in our sleep. Or mosquitoes, those nasty little suckers. I'd rather stay here, in Saint Denis."

"I don't think it's a good idea."

"It is. The air is usually better where the saloon is, and a warm meal and some good sleep in a comfortable bed wouldn't harm you." You hopelessly believed that this could somehow improve his condition. Even a little. Because what else could you do for him? "Come on, Arthur. It's just one night, maybe two, in comfort and silence, away from all that bickering at camp. I'll pay for it. And for a bath." You eyed him up and down. "You definitely need one. With a bath lady, if you insist."

Arthur let out an exasperated sigh. He would rather sleep surrounded with gators and mosquitoes than in this damned city, but he knew better than to argue with you, you could be pretty adamant when it came to the matters involving his well-being. Besides, a warm bath didn't sound that bad. Nor did a bed that wasn't an old sleeping bag on the muddy ground. Especially if you would sleep beside him.

"Bath lady won't be necessary."

********************************

You sat on a creaky, but fairly comfortable bed, looking at a clock standing in the corner of your rented room. It's been a while since Arthur had left to take a bath, you realized. Well, he probably needed to do more scrubbing than you could have expected. At least his absence gave you a couple minutes to just sit and enjoy your moment of respite. You could get used to living like this: having a little house, or at least a room somewhere, a quiet and warm place of your own, where no problems of this world mattered. There would be no gangs, no robberies, no obligations to Dutch or anyone else, no bounties on your heads. Just you and Arthur, living your live peacefully together.

Oh hell, the bounty! You should have checked and made sure there was no prize on Arthur's head anymore - for that bank heist the gang had pulled a couple of weeks ago - before you decided to stay here. But you didn't see any posters with his face, or even anything resembling it, on the way to the saloon, and if you remembered correctly, Arthur had visited the city several times after returning from Guarma, without getting arrested. So you could probably assume that Saint Denis had forgotten about his sins. They always did. Still, you'd rather keep a low profile, just for sure.

You flopped down on your back and sprawled comfortably on the mattress, closing your eyes. Your life would have surely been much easier and filled with fewer problems if you hadn't been an outlaw. Not that you really regretted your life choices, you would have been much worse if it wasn't for Dutch and his gang. You should consider yourself lucky; they found you in your darkest hour, took you in, and cared for you when no one else did. They taught you how to survive in this harsh world, they showed you their ways, and let you become one of them. They became your family.

A family that was being torn apart for weeks. Not many things in your life hurt you more than seeing them all like this, at each others' throats and questioning their bonds. Sometimes you felt like everything around you was falling apart. But despite the pain it caused, you had to stay strong, for your own wits and for Arthur, who needed you sane more than anything else now.

"Sleeping already?" Came unexpectedly from the door. You opened your eyes and propped yourself up on your elbows, watching your companion enter the room.

"Almost. What took you so long? I've been starting to worry that you changed your mind and went camping in the bayou."

"Can't say it ain't tempting, but no. I went downstairs, tried to eat something. But" He shook his head with resignation. "you know."

"Yeah, I do. You planning to go back there, or head to bed? Because if the former, I need to remind you that we should lay low, even more than usual. No excessive drinking, no crazy business."

"Going to bed sounds easier."

"Your kingdom awaits, then." You sat up and patted the sheets beside you. "Clothes off. This ain't your cot, you ain't going to bed in these dirty rags."

"Rags, ouch." He feigned a pained expression, but obediently took off his shoes and unbuckled his belt. "These are the finest clothes in this city."

"I see remnants of mud on your knees. And something that looks like dried blood on your shoulder."

And that blood on your sleeve.

"Your clothes may be the prettiest in the state or look like taken off a destitute, you know I don't really mind. But they're still dirty. Off with them, now."

"Fine, fine."

Not giving a damn about decency and averting your gaze, you were watching as Arthur took his vest off and shucked off his suspenders, then slid his pants down his legs and slowly unbuttoned his shirt. You saw that contented smile that tugged at his lips when he noticed how engrossed you were by his little show and you nodded appreciatively, letting him know that you really liked what you had before your eyes. Even though it wasn't the same sight as a couple of weeks ago. Sure, his muscles were still well-defined and his shoulders to hips ratio absolutely breathtaking, as you tended to describe it, but he was noticeably thinner. His union suit wasn't as tight on his body as it used to be. It hung loosely around his certain parts, indicating that the man was still losing weight, even despite your persistent attempts to keep it on a more or less constant level.

"Hey, what are you doing?" He asked surprised when you got up off the bed, at the exact same moment he sat beside you, and picked up the trousers he left on the floor, along with the rest of his clothing.

"Taking care of your rags, so they won't look like literal rags tomorrow?" You folded them neatly and put on the sofa standing by the window. You did the same with his vest, and his shirt you slung over its back. You really tried not to look at that smear of blood on its sleeve, but your eyes darted to it before you could stop yourself.

"I could do this, you know?"

"But you didn't. And if I wasn't here, you'd rather leave them scattered around the room and slip them on as you found them tomorrow. Don't say that's not true, I know you too well, Arthur Morgan. I really do."

You were always around him, since the day Dutch let you in. Something drew you to this violent, but always effective and getting his job done man, he quickly became your role model and you looked up to him in literally every aspect of your new outlaw life. You wanted to be strong like him, intimidating like him, and as good or even better at shooting than him. You were watching him at every occasion, trying to learn and mimic his moves, expressions, his ways with the gun. Arthur wasn't particularly happy that you tagged along with him wherever he went, but you were never intrusive or really bothering him, so he accepted that fact and eventually got used to your presence. Sometimes he even taught you a thing or two, just to make sure you could handle yourself well.

You didn't even realize when it turned into something more. You stopped watching and only looked at him, enthralled by his handsome features. You gave up trying to become like him and just enjoyed the time you could have spent together. You really wanted to know him better but it wasn't that easy, Arthur had built so many walls around himself that going through them seemed nearly impossible. But you were patient. You made him feel comfortable around you; you listened to what he had to say and talked when he wanted to talk. You were always the first to cheer him up when he had a bad day, you took care of him and showed affection when he needed it. You became his real friend, with who he was comfortable enough to discuss literally every matter of his life, or just sit in complete silence for hours. He didn't even realize when he fell for you, but when he did, he didn't fight it, didn't try to push you away, didn't let the fear caused by his previous experience ruin it all. He trusted you and knew that you wouldn't leave his side, no matter what.

You two were officially a couple for quite a long time now, and riding together for even longer. You robbed people together, plundered houses together, stole horses sometimes, and even started some bar fights. Well, usually you did, but Arthur always ended them. You were through a lot, shit like Blackwater included, and you knew you could always rely on each other. The bond between you two grew stronger than anyone could have ever imagined and you considered yourself the luckiest person on Earth for having Arthur in your life.

"I'll try to deal with these stains tomorrow's morning." You promised, a bit tiredly, sitting beside him.

"You don't have to. I can live being a bit dirty."

"Oh, I know. But I'll do it anyway, try to make you look like a decent man. As always, and despite your strenuous attempts to remain a dirty cowpoke. Hmm, maybe fighting with you over that matter became my hobby at some point of my life?"

"You have a very weird hobby then, miss."

"I'm of a very peculiar kind."

Arthur chuckled, lightly, so it didn't provoke any coughing.

"Yes, you are. But you know what? You could be strangest woman in this country and I would still pick you over anyone else." He declared, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer.

A warm smile tugged at your lips when Arthur kissed the side of your neck. He took your chin in his hand and turned your face towards his, made you look him in the eyes. Then, he gave you more soft kisses, first on your forehead, next cheeks, nose, and the last one where you wanted it the most. It always surprised you how gentle that usually tough and violent man could be with you, how passionate this allegedly heartless outlaw became when his lips were on yours. You purred excitedly when his hand left your face and slid down your body, to your thigh, where it rested suggestively close to your crotch.

"I've got the impression you may want something." You remarked, breaking the kiss.

"Really? What gave me away?"

"It was a wild guess."

Maybe his hand, now caressing your heat through the layers of your bottom, was some kind of a hint. Or maybe it was Arthur's lips, working their way down your neck, tenderly kissing and sucking every bit of skin they reached. Yeah, you could definitely tell that he was in the mood.

"...And that's the moment you tell me to back off, ain't it?" He noticed pretty quickly that despite the fact you let him do anything he wanted with your body, you clearly weren't into it yourself. You didn't even touch him once.

"Sorry, Arthur. It's been a hell of a day. I'm exhausted. That would be a real shame if I fell asleep while you was fucking me."

"Something's wrong, am I right, [Y/N]?"

Making love with Arthur was absolutely wonderful. You loved the way he pampered your body, and how adored and wanted you felt under his lustful gaze and tender touch. You loved how he reacted to your displays of affection, how he wasn't scared to open up and show his vulnerable side, and that he let you worship his body. You knew Arthur had his demons, the ones that completely distorted his own body image and undermined his self-esteem. But he learned to believe your words of adoration more than the whispers in the back of his head. He trusted your love more than his intrusive thoughts.

His illness changed a lot in your relationship. Not the way you felt about him, obviously, but how you perceived certain things. You became more observant, more aware of the consequences your actions may have had, and some of them took a serious toll on your man's condition, you found out. Now you had to be a responsible woman and put Arthur's well-being first, take proper care of him before you could take care of his carnal desires. You couldn't recklessly make love every day anymore, as his deteriorating health was putting more and more limitations on his body. It couldn't always keep up with what his mind craved, so you had to be more cautious now.

"I'm sorry Arthur. I'm not in mood."

"It's okay. I understand." He took you in his arms and gently kissed the top of your head.

"I'm just... worried." You tried to explain yourself. "That coughing fit at the stable, I can't push it out of my mind, I don't know why. I know you had them worse before, but this one scared me so much."

"Shhh, I know this whole situation is hard for you, but try not to think about that. I'm feeling okay now. Even more than okay, having you here." He pulled you tighter against his chest.

You calmed down a little, listening to his still strong and steady, but a bit faster than usual heartbeat. You didn't like it when he saw you like that, concerned and unsure. But honestly, you'd rather be sincere with your man than hide your fears away and lie to make him believe that everything was alright. He wasn't that stupid.

"Can we just go to sleep now?" You asked pleadingly. "I'm really tired."

Arthur didn't oppose. After you undressed and put your clothes beside his, he took you back in his arms and lay down on the bed with you on top of him, locked in his loving embrace. You snuggled up to his chest, tucked your head under his chin, and drifted off almost immediately, lulled to sleep by soft music coming from the saloon downstairs.

[zhanna-medvedeva]

What exactly does Zhanna coordinate? Describe that.

Zhanna is the one who, ultimately, decides if someone will work as a prostitute or a B-girl, and where they’ll be placed. This all starts with recruitment, which Zhanna oversees. Working mostly through proxies, she creates relationships with small-time criminal groups in poor cities and towns who are desperate for money. A convenient proxy is usually an international “peacekeeper officer” of sorts, or a few local members of law enforcement. She negotiates the price everyone is offered to find girls who are looking to leave their low stations in life, and helps the local groups - if they’re new to this - illegally transport the girls to either Miami or, now, London. Most of this work is done in Eastern Europe, though as people’s tastes become more diverse, Zhanna has been looking into expanding their range. It’s not limited just to girls that recruiters seek out, but they’re transported in greater numbers.

Recruitment happens on a nearly rolling basis. There’s no shortage of people looking to pay for hookers, and there’s also a lot of prostitutes who are released monthly for two primary reasons: a severe STD or pregnancy. Very rarely are girls actually able to run away, and more often than not if they do, they come back after a few nights of sleeping on sidewalks, going hungry, or trying to find their own clients without protection.

The conditions the girls travel in are entirely up to whatever local people are charged with accruing them. They usually arrive malnourished, filthy, and with visible signs of the various kinds of assault they’ve suffered on the journey. Those chosen to be B-girls are given more time to recover, properly fed and bathed and given a real home to stay in with some other, older B-girls that will show her the ropes of putting on makeup, doing her hair, picking out clothes, and forcing money out of people’s pockets. Those chosen to be prostitutes aren’t given such a luxury, and likely some will only ever see Zhanna once when she gives an enforcer directions for where to take them. 

I’ve written up a separate post on Zhanna’s rules for the B-girl’s, including coordination of their living arrangements and, essentially, their relationships to each other and their clients. She keeps a much closer eye on the B-girls than the prostitutes - they’re considerably more valuable, and also, could cause more damage if they wanted to. She arranges which girls meet with which clients, including some private meetings or meetings outside club hours. There are some B-girls who worked as prostitutes before moving up, and Zhanna still sets them up for such meetings if the VIP men are really willing to pay good money.

When it comes to the girls who work out of brothels or the streets, Zhanna is the one who figures out the best locations for these girls. Zhanna - again, through proxies - instructs the girls on what to ask for and determines the percentage of what they need to pass on to whatever enforcer is in charge of the brothel at that time. Usually in the morning, Zhanna gets an account from an enforcer at each brothel and street, broken down by how many people met with and paid each girl. The amount the girls should’ve handed over is calculated and Zhanna personally makes sure every dollar necessary is in her position. If it falls short, normally the enforcer knows who didn’t pay up enough money. Zhanna then sends them back to get the rest of the money. Weekly, a separate person is sent to collect drug money and “rent” from the girls for whatever space they occupy, even if they sleep on a floor - it’s usually the equivalent of whatever they might have leftover after the mob’s cut is taken out of what they’ve paid.

Any “tips” or “gifts” given to her B-girls are also seen by Zhanna or a watchful bystander and a high percentage of that goes back to Zhanna. Everything is kept track of in old-school accounting books that are kept in a safe in Zhanna’s home. A separate, smaller safe is used to transport the money every morning from the night before to be taken care of by those above Zhanna. 

Zhanna also oversees the conditions of the brothels, ensuring that any issues are taken care of discretely. Though she’s in London now, she still has a strong hold over Miami. She might not be there to get a finger on every dollar, but she’ll start to make monthly trips back to keep an eye on the books being kept by the man that was left to oversee everything there. She speaks with him every night to have him recite all the information to her for her records, too, but she’s nothing if not careful and precise with money. 

There are other things that aren’t necessarily part of the day-to-day that she also oversees. She keeps track of police blotters to see where authorities are cracking down on prostitution and adjusts as necessary, keeps tabs on any new women’s shelters popping up nearby, and attends business networking events to locate potential “VIP” clients to draw into Russian businesses. 

[xaz-fr]

I’ll edit links for previous chapters later but you know how Tumblr feelse about links but they're all in the zs tag

Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancers, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work

@deadpool-scar-bro @golden-lionsnake @unburdened-billy @anonymouseyesamongwalls @knifox @massdestructionn @leprechaunsean @a-gay-lotus

The alternate name for this chapter is “spayar gets roasted by his entire family". Also gods Tassa is so good. I love herrrrrrr

Despite the cold sky outside Spayar could smell the warm spices of his mother’s cooking from downstairs. He kept glancing out his window at the Taldradin, the big clock tower, to keep an eye on the time. He had a meeting after dinner but before fifths and the time was approaching. He didn't want to miss it. While waiting for the right time to leave Spayar was writing in a notebook what his birds had told him in short hand, just for reference.

From downstairs he heard his mother give an exclamation and the excited sound of her voice but not what was being said. Maybe one of her friends was visiting. Spayar only had a dozen or so Dirinian aunties who were immigrants like his parents. But the sound didn't escalate like he expected from a group of Dirinians showing up to talk. So maybe a friend of his siblings.

His door opened without knocking. “Knock before you just open my door Duren- Von,” he petered out when he saw it wasn't his brother come to bother him for riding lessons again.

“Well then don't leave your door unlocked,” Von said with a grin.

“You’re back.” He was wearing his rain coat but it was dry meaning it wasn't raining or he was showing off.

“Yes, for the time being,” he closed the door and stood against it.

“Good news from Maker’s End?” Spayar closed his notebook and quickly wiped off his quill.

“A bit.”

“Tassa said you had success in Alderin,” he said.

“I did,” he beamed at Spayar. Gods he hated Von sometimes when his smile was like a beam of sunlight in fall.

Von made a hand motion by his head indicating Spayar should close the weave on his door. Von couldn't do it himself. He wasn't a weaver like Spayar and Tassa. His magic was faster and more immediate, his weaves being created and dissipating in seconds as a spell rather than a proper weave that lingered. “Oh, so good news,” and he got up to properly close the weave. The room and light grew muted, the view of the Taldradin seemed almost fogged through the glass.

“I have X’vazior’s full support,” Von bursted as soon as the weave coalesced.

“That’s good. But I don't know what fool man would pass up such a promotion.” Spayar sat back down at his desk. “Tell me you made friends in Maker’s End as well.”

“Nothing concrete,” Von grimaced. “It’s difficult to get makers to pick sides.”

“Unfortunate but true,” Spayar frowned even as he nodded. Historically most makers in the south fled to Gorum specifically to avoid being prodded into making instruments of war during a Conflict. One could always count on Gorum to remain neutral and thus untouchable in a Conflict. “But something?”

“Just talk mostly. Most everyone is too busy to talk to the fifth royal child,” he complained.

“But you got X'vazior,” Spayar said helpfully.

“Yes. I sent Tassa along after the first day so we could talk more. I think Tassa gave him the impression I'd kill him if he didn't join me.”

“You would have,” was all Spayar said.

“Yeah but-

“A praetor who knows you're weak is a card you don't want in your hand, Von,” he said.

“I know but…” he rubbed his mouth and it was distracting. “I don't want to be like my great grandfather. He threatened anyone who didn't side with him both before and after his Conflict and basically killed a child of every noble house of everyone who purposefully sided with his brothers. He didn't last, Spayar.”

“And princes who are afraid to make threats to get what they need don't either,” Spayar said. He hadn't forgotten the conversation he and Tassa had had a week ago about Von being too soft, too nice.

Von sighed. “Do you have any information for me?”

“Teldin is living in the Palace now.”

“Sakoth,” Von cursed.

“That’s about how I felt when I found out too,” Spayar said. “Fresh bread is also nearly half a bronze, it's almost impossible to get strawberry bushels and unless you know a guy it's impossible to get flour. It's getting scooped up by all the bakeries around the city.”

“Meat? X'vazior told me it's being taxed higher than salt in Alderin,” Von said.

“Birds maybe. I haven't heard of or seen anyone selling large livestock since I've come back from serving my time.”

“What’s your mother making for fifths?” Von asked.

“Goose? I think?”

“Hmmm…”

“You aren't even thinking about the food shortage now,” Spayar accused him but was smiling.

“What can I say? I like goose,” Von whined. “And it smelled so good. I might have to stay.”

Still smiling Spayar rolled his eyes. “To say it's getting worse as Asurala goes on would not be an understatement,” Spayar said. “Especially since no one likes going out in the rain and people don't want to travel the Lances.”

“Yes. I saw the state of them. I don't blame them.” The Westerlance had been easily traveled by them because they were on horseback but the potholes and ill repaired stone roads would make getting a cart anywhere difficult.

“I think most ranchers are waiting either for prices to go up for their livestock to sell or to hopefully wait out the bad winter with the stock they have now.”

“Neither of which is good,” Von nodded in agreement. “Is my mother in the city?”

“Yes.”

“Oh she's a sakoth,” Von folded his arms. “Last thing we need is everyone here. Tallasala is throwing her naming day party here too!”

“Yes. I'm aware.”

“Teldin, Tallasala, our mother, and I are all going to be in and around Assarus this month. This is-

“A terrible idea?”

“To say the least!”

“What did you and X'vazior talk about?”

“Mostly pleasantries. He told me he'd be able to rally the Second to me without much of a fuss. I gave him that letter Helida gave to me for him. While I was there he drafted one and had a courier rush it up to the Garden. I promised him food.”

“Easier said than done.”

“The treasury is not empty,” Von said. “If Tallasala can get mother to give her money for her stupid naming day party than I can come up with a reason I need money. I did tell him it may take time.”

“Yes… about that,” Spayar said slowly. Von cocked his head at him and Spayar told him about DiSol and the deal he'd made with the Adoshade and about Mali.

Von didn't even remark on it. “Have you gotten word back from Sinco at all yet?”

“No but I told him that he had anything to share he was to message me immediately and I'd pay for the postage to have it brought by wyrm.”

Von rubbed his face with both hands. “Spayar,” he sighed. Spayar hummed at him curiously. “Can your parents just adopt me instead?”

Spayar laughed. “While I'm sure my mother would be thrilled to have another son that doesn't detract from you being a Le’Acard. There's no getting out of that.”

“Yes,” Von said softly.

Outside the Taldradin gave a muffled tolling of the time. “I need to go,” Spayar got up.

“Where are you going?” Von asked but was specifically blocking the door.

“I have a meeting with the new thief lord, the Pale Cross.”

“We weren't done talking.”

“I'll be back.”

“I'm leaving after fifths. I shouldn't stay in the city.”

“Where are you going now?”

“Remember I said back in the west I said I wanted the Drake too?”

“And I told you you were insane but go on,” Spayar said.

“I’m going to the Wyrd.”

“Are you really going to court the Wyrm Lord?” Spayar asked, still trying to get out the door but Von wasnt letting him.

“A little,” Von said. “Mostly I want a personal flighter.”

Spayar’s brows furrowed a little then clarity came to him. “I don't like that guy,” Spayar said.

“You just don't because he and Tassa and insufferable,” Von reminded him quickly. “You know he's nice.”

“Yeah but he's so annoying,” Spayar complained.

“I want you to come with me to the Wyrd,” Von finally got to the point.

“Do I have a choice?”

“Would you feel better about saying yes if I said you did?”

“Fine,” Spayar sighed. “After Asümcest. I promised my siblings I'd take them,” he said before Von could argue.

“Fine. I'll have to change the day of our flight but fine.”

“Which port are we leaving from?”

“The one in Sinoulin.”

“Down there? Why?”

“Because my family doesn't go there and the less people who know I'm taking a wyrm out with my d'aelar the better.”

“I guess. Fine. Tell me the time before you leave after fifths but I really do have to go. Paper lord he might be but you don't keep men who kill for their position waiting.”

“What about me?” Von complained.

Spayar disconnected the weave. Light, sound, and smell rushed back into the space. He opened the door and gently pushed Von out with just two fingers on his chest. “When you finish the Conflict I'll give you more priority too,” he said nicely.

“I’m your domalim, I should always get priory,” Von whined.

Spayar just grinned a little. “I’ll see you for fifths. Don't mess up my bed,” and left Von in the doorway. He didn't need to turn to know Von was grumpily standing there with his arms folded. He mostly didn't look because he knew it would be cute and he didn't need that sort of distraction.

—

It had started to rain while Tassa stood outside King’s Casket in Cat’s Cradle waiting for Spayar. King was spelled the Fed way so everyone knew it was a turn of phrase. There were no kings in the Alliance, not in their tongue at least. To fight against the boredom of waiting under the awning outside the bar she was casually smoking a cigarello of posh, a native central Alliance plant smoked when you wanted to freshen the breath after a long day or you wanted the mouth stimulation of a joint without getting high. It was mostly smoked by children attempting to imitate their parents but couldn't buy actual drugs, people who needed to be the sober member of a party, and people who wanted to quickly freshen their breath. Tassa thought it tasted sort of orangy and with the orange season still some months away it was about as close as she could get to one this time of year. She was blowing smoke through a weave that turned the smoke into the shape of little butterflies to entertain herself while she waited.

Her cigarello was running out just as a buggy pulled up to the bar. The door of the buggy popped open and Spayar stepped out. Tassa took the cigarello out of her mouth and ground the end in her fingers. Spayar paid the driver and quickly got out of the rain to join Tassa under the awning.

“You’re early,” she said.

“I try to be,” he said, self-consciously touching his hair. He'd styled his hair nicely.

“You look like you're going to court,” she said and reached up, messing his hair up a bit with his fingers. It was too perfect, too sleek. “The Pale Cross is from the East, he doesn't trust fancy boys.”

“I see,” Spayar said, patiently allowing her to restyle his hair. She couldn't help but think he needed a hair cut. It was out of style for men to have hair long enough to tie back. It didn't help that Spayar’s wavy curls were thick and difficult to manage. “You done?” he asked as she got distracted thinking about giving Spayar the name of her hair dresser.

“Oh, yes,” she said and pulled her hands from his locks. 

“He have a real name by the way?” Spayar asked.

“Not that I know,” she said. “He showed up calling himself the Pale Cross and we’ve been calling him that since he killed Jakkerty. Sort of rumor is he's from across the Spine, came here to escape a punishment of some sort.”

“You believe it?”

“I think Pale Cross is only as dangerous as he wants us to believe he is. No one questions him.”

“Fear of a knife to the throat?”

“He’s not above violence, no,” she said, pursing her lips. She had seen him threaten enough people to not want Spayar to get too close to him. She certainly didn't want them to become anything. “Also, don't touch him.”

“No? He's not as hands on as you?” and he winked at her. Her heart fluttered a little.

She refocused. She knew better than to get distracted by how cute Spayar was. It had been her undoing more than once. Like getting this meeting in the first place! “No,” she said seriously. “He doesn't like being touched.”

“I don't need to touch him, relax,” Spayar rolled his eyes at her.

“Good.”

“Now we going to keep standing out in the rain, Tassa?” he asked patiently, knowing she'd been stalking.

“I guess,” she swallowed and pushed the door open. 

The bar was warm and dry with a small band playing in a corner. People were singing along. While the purchase of drugs outside of Smoker’s Den was was punishable by such a steep fine most people didn't bother that didn't stop you from bringing your own or from some places just offering it for free with the purchase of a meal. King’s Casket was the former and despite not selling it the place smelled of about six types of drugs. So the singing along with the band was sloppy at best. The bar itself didn't sell drugs or alcohol but rather a specialty to Assarus, a type of fish that was if prepared incorrectly would kill you and if prepared correctly got you high. 

The bar claimed to serve it properly but Tassa had never seen anyone order it since she'd started coming here and she'd spent a lot of time here with Jackertty before he'd been murdered. He'd been as close to a lover as she'd actually allow and that was mostly because it made her job easier. And it got the actual man she loved an in with the thief lord. She'd had worse sex for better reasons and she had no reason to complain. Jackertty hadn't been the best cutpurse in the city for no reason. He had very talented hands. She missed him only because Pale Cross was more dangerous for Spayar’s health. Hopefully that wouldn't be the case much longer.

In a back room was where the thief lord held court. Had been for over a century. Mostly it was a place the thief lord collected their dues from the other thieves, cutpurses and cat burglars in the city. They kept the Guard Commander’s hand well greased with atrins and unless caught in the direct act most thieves were just forced to return the stolen goods and not worse. In return for turning a blind eye most of the time the thief lord was to keep his small underworld in check and not reach their hands too far. It was two large booth tables and a bench along one wall. On the bench was a musician offering good music away from the more rowdy band playing in the main room. On one booth several people were playing a heated dice and card game. 

The other table had Pale Cross and those he decided he liked. The “court”, as it were, hadn't changed as much as they thought when Jakertty died. Pale Cross sat with a slight distance between them and he lived up to his name. He had platinum blonde hair and icy cold white skin with pale blue eyes like ice. Tassa didn't like looking directly into them. He was a surprisingly small man of slight stature and feminine features with full lips, elegant cheek bones, and a soft jaw. If Tassa didn't know better she'd have taken Pale Cross for a woman but he insisted he was a man so who was she to argue?

She looked over at Spayar and saw him take in Pale Cross too. She saw the initial confusion in his brow a moment before he decided that his opinions on the subject were irrelevant.

Tassa motioned Spayar to follow her over to the table Pale Cross was sitting at and leaned on the table a bit, drawing their attention. “Boss, your meeting is here,” she said sweetly.

Pale Cross looked from Tassa to Spayar. He leaned over to the warlock next to him and said something into their ear. They got up and patted Spayar down. “Oh, careful there friend,” Spayar said in his charming way when they patted down his crotch and groin to make sure he had no weapons. They gave him a hard look. “I know better than to bring a weapon to King’s Casket, don't worry,” it should have been patronizing but coming from Spayar it was pleasant, delightful even. She'd known him nearly two decades and she still didn't know how he made a threat sound like a compliment. 

“He’s clean,” the warlock announced and sat back down.

Tassa slid into the booth but Spayar stood, standing opposite Pale Cross where he was cloistered in the middle and back of the booth. “Hello, I don't think we've been properly introduced,” he gave a slight hand bow. “I’m Spayar Hillsman Junior.”

“I know who you are,” Pale Cross said, his voice was high for a man and Tassa wasn't sure if he intentionally pitched it up or down. “I am the Pale Cross, what do you want?”

Spayar smiled in a good mood. “I guess this is just a formality of sorts. I use some of your men for my own services.”

“I am aware of that.”

“And I just wanted to make sure you won't cause me trouble than,” Spayar didn't say it like a threat but Tassa knew it was a threat. Casually she coated her fingers in magic and twirled them under the table. The basic structure of a weave formed between her fingers in case she needed to finish it quickly and cast. 

Pale Cross stood up. They were at least a hand shorter than Spayar and didn't even have half the air to compete with Spayar’s presence. Privately Tassa thought it was rather comical that Pale Cross decided that they were tougher than Spayar. She'd only heard some of the things Spayar had done while serving his time but she knew rooting out Feds had been on the list. “Don’t think to intimidate me,” he said.

“I would never,” Spayar said graciously. “I appreciate your cooperation but I don't require it. Don't misunderstand my intentions thief lord, you work with me: not the other way around,” he casually put his hands in the pocket of his rain coat. “This is Assarus and I don't know what you're people have told you or what you think you are but I assure you it isn't my boss,” he chuckled.

Tassa frowned but also knew everyone in this room. They all, at one point or another, worked for Spayar. And the thing that differed between Spayar and Pale Cross was that Spayar paid and Pale Cross expected to get paid. She knew none of them were more loyal to Pale Cross than money but she was more worried that Pale Cross would get angry. That was how she heard Jakertty had died. He'd said the wrong thing or done something and Pale Cross had stabbed him nine times in the chest with his own belt knife.

“This is my domain, Hillsman. You don't get to talk to me like that here. You're a child and if you aren't more respectful I'll do to you what I did to Jakertty.”

The musician had stopped playing and people from the gaming table were half paying attention. Spayar was still just smiling in casual pleasantry. He sucked his teeth in amusement and stepped up to the table, putting his hands down on the table. “I’m not here to threaten you. I just want us to be friends,” he said nicely. “I like using the thieves in the city as my sources of information. I prefer if we cooperate. It makes everyone happier and everyone makes money. Now don't do something stupid like make me your enemy, Pale Cross.”

“Or what?” he challenged. “You’re just a commoner boy. What could you do to me?”

Spayar stood up and casually held his hand out. To everyone's surprise but Tassa’s Pale Cross’s knife jumped out of his belt sheath and landed tang first into his palm. Elemental warlocks weren't common and people weren't expecting or ready for one when they appeared, much less a mettalurgist like Spayar. Spayar put the point against his palm and casually spun it, it didn't break the skin. “All sorts of things,” he said casually. “I’d like some privacy,” he glanced around the room. The musician was the first to get up and the game was quickly packed up.

“Where are you going?” Pale Cross asked as members of his booth got up.

“There’s something you need to learn, Cross,” Spayar said, still casually playing with their knife. “I’ve been gone for two years but everyone still likes me more than you. Do you know why?”

Tassa got up but didn't want to. She gave Spayar a nervous look but he was just so sure of himself. So confident and pleasant. If she was any less worried she'd have found it really hot. The game table was empty and the other booth was quickly emptying. Tassa reluctantly left the room with the others. “Because I pay,” Spayar was saying as the door was closed, “Just like I will make you if you cross me.”

Tassa immediately put her ear against the door but was rewarded with nothing. “Come now Tassa, you know nothing gets through the door,” Philiphe said.

“I’m worried,” she said.

“About what? I'm glad that kid is back. Uhg that Pale Cross is so pretentious,” Bruna said. “And maybe now we can make some money again.”

She looked at them, “You forget how Jakertty got got?” she demanded.

“Yeah but Jakertty was an idiot,” Bruna said.

“Pretty was like his only selling point,” Lassie said. “That’s why you liked him.”

“Marginally,” Tassa said.

“The kid will be fine,” Philiphe said.

When the others dispersed but Tassa stayed by the door until it opened again. Spayar came out, his bottom lip split but in good spirits. “Spayar!”

“Oh, hey,” he said cheerfully, closing the door behind him.

“Your face,” she touched his face gently with her fingertips. “You should go see Mali. What happened?”

“We came to an understanding,” Spayar said. He let her fret over his face for a few more seconds before pulling away. “It’s fine Tassa. Just a lip.” Not just s lip. Spayar’s beautiful lip on his beautiful face.

“And Pale Cross?”

“He sees things my way now,” he said. “That's all that needs to be done here. Thank you for getting me the meeting. I wish it hadn’t ended quite like that but there's no helping stubborn people.”

“And what about you?”

“I told my mom I'd be home for fifths and Vondugard needed to talk to me.”

She sighed. “So leaving me with the mess?”

“Oh, he's not a mess,” Spayar said. “I let him get one punch in because it seemed like he needed it. He's right now.”

“Alright,” she still frowned that his pretty face was ruined. “You’re sure you're okay?”

“Right as sunshine, my lady,” he said in that cute teasing way he did that always made her heart skip a little. “I haven't felt this upbeat since I came back from serving my time.” It didn't take a genius to read between the lines on that one. “You want to come to fifths?”

“You’re inviting me?” Normally Spayar didn't like her around his sisters. Not because he minded but apparently his father had nearly had a heart attack when his little sister Anora had asked him what a whore was after the last time she'd visited.

“Why not? Not like there's anything else for you to do here. Cross is going to be a bit private for a while I think,” he grinned a tad recklessly that with his missed hair she'd given him made him even more handsome. “Besides, you know my addim, she loves when I bring friends over to eat.”

“Can I ask what you did to him?” she asked even as she followed him out of the bar, past the singing stoners.

“Nothing too bad,” was all Spayar said and they stepped out under the awning. By law all buildings had to have at least a five foot across awning that spanned the entire length of the building without breaks. It was to be water proof and do it's best to keep the sidewalk dry during the rainy season. It allowed for fairly easy foot travel which was all you could do in Cat’s Cradle as hireable buggies didn't transverse the little neighborhood, the streets were usually too narrow and winding. That and you were likely to get mugged.

The rain had picked up substantially since the state of the meeting. “But not dead?”

“Gods no. That would make my job far too difficult,” he said and walked on the outside of the sidewalk so any rain would hit him first. She grabbed his arm as they walked and he comfortably looped it through hers. “But he should be much less annoying for all our parties and more so for anyone not me,” he smiled pleasantly at her.

“I think I like post time Spayar even more than pre time,” she said, giving his arm a squeeze. He scoffed but was grinning. “I missed you.”

“Yes, I know.”

“I wrote.”

“I know. I literally didn't write back to anyone. I was far too busy being the errand boy of a war alchemist and trying not to puke at all hours.”

Tassa giggled, “That sounds like some of ours the first time they got on a ship.” They crossed a water logged street, rushing through the heavy rain back into the safety of the sidewalk awnings. When Tassa had first arrived at King’s Casket it hadn't been raining so she hadn't brought an umbrella and Spayar was without his wide hat. She was sure it had been a conscious choice to not carry anything in his person. 

“Yes but this alchemist was trying to induce vomiting. It was quite bothersome after a while.”

“That sounds awful,” she frowned.

“You got used to it.”

“That wasn't all you did I'm sure.”

They stopped at the end of a block and Spayar turned to her, his pretty brown eyes serious. “I did kill some people if that's what you're getting at.”

“In not so many words,” she said. “All Feds?”

“Mostly,” was all he said and pulled her across another intersection. She didn't push anymore. Actual Feylon bandits weren't common but it was never fun to deal with them, same for Feylon pirates who decided to rob from their own countrymen. She'd made enough searing weaves into the skin of her fellow Feylon to not want to talk about it either. 

“Have you heard from Vondugard?” she asked instead.

“Yes. He's joining us for fifths as well.”

“Good news?”

Spayar didn't answer for a block. There was one left and they could see rentable cabbies at the wide intersection where Cat’s Cradle met Swan Box. “I’m very worried,” was all he said.

“Spay…” she frowned but stopped when he gave her a look. “You know.”

“I do.” She hugged his arm.

“What’s your mother making for fifths?” she changed the subject. She hated seeing upset like this. Hated seeing him worried about dying. She wished she’d known him sooner when they were young and she could have pointed right at that blonde brat and gone ‘Spayar doesn't want to be friends with you’. She did not and never would forgive Vondugard for being such an unappreciative jerk about how wonderful Spayar was and how devoted he was. Vondugard didn't deserve him. She did.

She immediately squashed the thought. She wasn't doing this to herself. She knew Spayar’s preferances. It didn't matter what Tassa did or said or how she acted. She could love him to the Shadow Lands and back but he'd never feel the same way. She knew he loved her as his friend but that was all she'd ever be. 

“Goose,” he said.

She wrinkled her nose a little. She wasn't fond of goose. She preferred squab or duck. But she wasn't going to look free food in the mouth. “Sounds good.”

They stopped at the sidewalk by one of the buggies. “Can I give you a ride?” the driver asked.

“Yes, going to Bellringer, Synerstock Street,” Spayar said and opened the door for Tassa. She got into the clam shell shaped cab and Spayar got in next to her.

“What end?” the driver asked, looking back at them.

“Underhill Smithing,” Spayar said. “You know the place?” They nodded. “There.”

“Right away,” and the driver turned back around and clicked to his poor sodden horse. But better the horse than them.

“Cut through Swan Island too,” Spayar said as they started down the road. The cabbie looked back questioning, Spayar just flashed his medalian from inside the breast of his jacket.

“Right away,” the driver turned his horse north immediately instead of continuing easy to go the long way around the lake.

“So that's how you got here so fast,” Tassa said, moving closer to Spayar, partly to get out of the rain and partly because she wanted to. He just put an arm over her shoulders.

“Pays to be me sometimes,” he squeezed her shoulder.

Tassa asked him more about his served time while on the way to the Hillsman home. They ended up sharing a few stories and the driver even added one of his own. Most of Spayar's stories involved getting purposefully poisoned at some point or throwing up. She would have hated being part of his squad.

Finally they arrived at the building and Spayar directed the driver around the side alley to the front door that led to the side yard. He paid the cabbie and Spayar grabbed the umbrella he'd left in his horse’s shed to get them to the door where warm smells were pouring out of. “I miss fifths?” Spayar asked loudly as he closed the umbrella.

“Nope. Just in time!” Anora was sitting at the table already. “Miss Tassy! You came back!” she waved excitedly from the table. Tassa smiled.

“Tassy?” Relora poked her head out of the kitchen. “Tassa, welcome back,” she smiled warmly and Tassa smiled wider. She'd been slightly worried Spayar's parents wouldn't want her to come back after the whole whore situation. “I hope you're hungry, I made goose!”

“Can’t wait,” Tassa said.

“Calli! Vondugard! Come down for fifths,” Relora called in a volume only mother's calling their children could muster. Or Tassa thought so. She'd never met hers. “Spayar go get your father.”

“I’m getting Tassa a chair though-”

“Go get your father first,” Relora said and went back into the kitchen.

Spayar sighed, “Just sit, I'll pull up another chair.”

“Alright,” Tassa said and sat next to Anora who was vibrating in excitement, her big loose curls quivering in their three high tails Relora had put them in. “Hi,” Tassa said with a wide smile she reserved for small children and house cats.

“Tassy, do you want to know a secret?” she asked softly, dropping her voice.

Tassa leaned down a little, “I love secrets,” she said softly.

“It’s about my big brother,” she said as Calli and Vondugard came down the stairs. 

“Oh? Well you have to tell me then.”

“Spayar’s horse doesn't have a name and me, Duren, and Calli get to come up with one,” she said excitedly.

“What?” Tassa was so taken aback she sat up. “Spayar didn't name his horse?” she asked loud enough to be heard. Had she heard that right? What?

“He didn't what?” Vondugard asked, sitting down next to Calli.

“Duren said Spayar didn't name his horse,” Anora said.

“He didn’t— Spayar,” Vondugard barked when Spayar came back in with the other Hillman men,

“What now?” Spayar sighed as he went to go locate a chair of some sort.

“I gave you that mare three years ago what do you mean you didn't name it?”

Spayar looked at his little sisters with narrowed eyes, “I told you not to tell anyone,” he said, only slightly less threatening than when he'd been talking to Pale Cross.

It was completely lost on his sisters. “Anora did it,” Calli said mildly.

“Dooim, Calli is being mean to me,” Anora whined.

Spayar Senior looked at all the young people at his table took a deep breath and just went into the kitchen, talking to his wife in Dirnine. Tassa didn't blame him. “What do you mean you didn't name your horse?” Vondugard demanded.

“I’ve been busy,” Spayar dragged a stool over to sit at the table.

“You’ve had her three years.”

Spayar rubbed his face and looked at Anora, “I am never telling any of you a secret ever again.”

“I was just telling Tassy,” she said defensively.

“The point of a secret is you don't tell anyone. We’re not doing alchemy after fifths,” he said sternly.

“Alright everyone, that's enough,” Relora came out with two dishes of sides while Spayar senior followed behind with the carved goose.

“Addim Spayar and Calli are being mean to me,” Anora whined.

“Honey you did a bad thing telling Spayar's secret,” her heavily accented voice not quite scolding.

“But I was just-

Relora put the food down and went over to her daughter. “How would you feel if Spayar told all your friends about what you did the night he came home? Hmm?”

“I wouldn't like it,” Anora said, puffing up her lips and cheeks a bit in what Tassa thought was a very Spayar-like behavior. 

“Exactly. That's how your brother feels you told Tassa.”

Anora just looked down at her lap, swinging her short legs in annoyance. Relorq got up and sat next to her husband who was half out of his seat putting goose on everyone’s plate. “I still can't believe you,” Vondugard was saying.

“I’m ignoring you,” Spayar said while he did just that and was busying himself with fifths, cutting up the goose and stuffing it and the baked yam into his mouth at the same time.

“Three years, Spayar. Three years,” Vondugard stressed.

“Don’t worry Von, we'll come up with a good one,” Calli said, putting her hand on the irate prince’s arm. 

Vondugard frowned at Spayar before looking at Calli. “I fear what he would eventually name or not name it without you,” he told her.

“We’ll make sure it's good,” she patted his hand and as she did glanced across the table at Tassa. Tassa just rose her brows at Calli. Really? She was doing this? That was all she needed to do and Calli immediately snatched her hand away and Tassa could see the embarrassed flush on her nubby round ears. Tassa knew Vondugard didn't deserve Spayar but over her dead body was anyone ruining that for Spayar. At least Calli seemed aware there was a boundary. Good girl. Neither of the boys seemed to notice.

“Tassy do you not like your food?” Anora asked her, tugging on her sleeve a little.

She looked away from the royal drama baby to sweet Anora. “I was waiting for it to cool down a bit,” she said with a sweet voice and smile.

“De-de,” Anora said making Spayar look at her, his mouth full. “I’m sorry I told Tassa about your horse.”

Spayar side eyed Tassa and then Vondugard, “He would have figured it out eventually. It isn't a big deal.”

“So can you still show me some alchemy after fifths?” she asked hopefully.

“I don't want to,” he said and Tassa put some food in her mouth to not laugh at the faces the siblings were giving each other across the table. Their parents were willfully oblivious (or perhaps very good at faking it) to what was happening and were carrying on their conversation from the kitchen. Tassa couldn't follow because it was in Dirnine. Tassa liked this. She wished it would stay just like this.

[earlgreyandadderall-blog]

What Does ADHD Look Like In Girls? - Things I Wish I Knew Ten Years Ago

Hello world!  

I'm back, as promised, and today I'm going to talk about some stuff I wish I knew ten years ago- ADHD symptoms that are common in girls but often get overlooked. Why, you may ask? Because a teacher or parent normally won't notice that a child is struggling unless it's very apparent – if she is extremely hyperactive and disruptive, for example – or if the child admits that they are struggling. That girl in the corner who's always daydreaming, but still gets good grades? Or the one who has a hard time making friends or making relationships work, but otherwise seems "normal" (whatever that means)? She's going to be passed over while her teacher is busy worrying about the boy who can't stay in his seat for more than five minutes. Plus, girls with ADHD are more likely than boys to internalize their struggles, so if you or your child is anything like me, you might not realize something is off until high school or even later, and even when you do, you might be too embarrassed to ask for help.

If anyone besides my mom ever starts reading this blog, one thing that would make me really really happy and feel as if I've made a difference is if even one young woman out there doesn't have to go through the failed relationships, ruined friendships, and lost semesters that I had to go through before she realizes something deeper is going on than just laziness and being emotional. If you're a girl who often feels like she's getting in her own way and suspects there might be something up, but aren't really sure what it might be, here are some often-overlooked ADHD symptoms that you might relate to.

1.   Daydreaming/Getting Bored in School

As long as I can remember, I've had a hard time paying attention in class. When I was very young, I would get called out for daydreaming all the time. I worked on my French homework in science class, flipped aimlessly through my agenda while the teacher was talking, and doodled all over ever single desk I've ever sat in. In grade five, I got in trouble for – get this – reading a book during a spelling test. Don't ask me how I thought I was gonna get away with that, but I was sooooooo booooooored and the teacher was taking soooooo loooooong to read these words that I knew how to spell in grade one. That's a big reason why inattentiveness in female students often gets overlooked- girls with ADHD don't usually perform poorly, especially in elementary school. Because I was gifted, my inattentiveness was treated as a quirk rather than a problem. I had a handful of teachers who tried to give me harder work to keep me motivated, but more often than not I was left to entertain myself. It always bothered me that kids who needed extra help got IEPs, the latest learning technologies, and one-on-one time with the teacher, but kids like me, who needed an extra challenge, were neglected

 2.     Impulsive Spending

The most important thing to keep in mind when analyzing the behaviour of people with ADHD is that our brains don't produce or transmit enough dopamine, which is the feel-good chemical that controls reward-motivated behaviour. Because of that, we seek out anything that will give us a dopamine rush... the only problem is that those behaviours are usually impulsive. You know the saying money can't buy happiness? Yeah, not necessarily true for ADHD brains. At least for a little while after buying something we've managed to convince ourselves we so totally need, we actually do feel really happy, because we're experiencing a dopamine high. My friend recently got me into doing my makeup properly, and I'm embarrassed to admit how much I've spent at Sephora in the last month.  I know it's dumb, but I do it anyway. Why? Because ADHD brains have a hard time distinguishing what is urgent from what is important. Once I get it in my head that I need that contour kit right now (because what if a surprise event comes up in the next week?), I can't convince myself otherwise. That sense of urgency releases dopamine, which tells my brain that wasting $60 to look more like the MUAs on Instagram will make me happy. And for an hour or two it does!... Until I look at my bank account.  

3.     Relationship Problems

So, dopamine rush-producing behaviours are usually impulsive, right? What does that look like when it comes to romantic relationships? Dopamine-seeking brains love anything that's new and novel, and that includes the first phase of a relationship, when you're sooooo in love and can't get enough of each other. Of course, that phase ends, and neurotypical people settle into a more lowkey relationship just fine. ADHD brains? Not so much. If you don't recognize what you're experiencing as a dopamine withdrawal, you may interpret it is a lack of love from your partner, or as a sign that the relationship is getting boring. I tend to fall into the first category, and people like me can become really insecure thinking that our partner doesn't care about us. We become excessively demanding and need dramatic displays of affection all the time, which naturally alienates our partners. If you're somebody who just gets bored, that can result in two unhealthy behaviours: one, moving really quickly from one relationship to the next and never learning how to be alone, and two, cheating. If any or all of these three behaviours are a pattern in your life, you just might have a dopamine shortage, and are unknowingly looking to your partner(s) to fix it.

4.    Word Vomit

It's really hard for me to explain my tendency to over-explain every little thing (ha, that's ironic), especially if I'm nervous about it. Have you ever taken seven sentences to say something that could have been said in one? Found yourself repeating the same thing in different words three times? I find I do this the most when I'm apologizing, or trying to explain why I did something that someone else didn't like or understand. You think you're being helpful, but really you're just annoying the other person. Then you realize how annoying you're being, and apologize for being annoying five times, and now they're annoyed with you for apologizing for being annoying... okay, that's when you know it's time to turn your phone off and cool down. On top of excessive explaining, ADHD brains can get a little word vomit-y when we're talking about something we're passionate about. Just ask my mom- get me on the Israeli occupation of Palestine, or, at the moment, information about ADHD, and you won't get me off it. Sometimes we don't really know when to shut up. If you have a tendency to keep talking even when you know nobody is listening anymore, then you might want to keep reading.

5.    Road Rage

Everybody road rages once in a while (okay, I'm told that not everyone does, but I don't believe it. Come on, how can you NOT scream at the person in front of you going 5 km under the speed limit?) but I legitimately feel claustrophobic and panicky if I'm on a four-lane highway stuck behind a car in each lane going the same speed and I can't get out to pass them. If the person in front of me is doing something stupid, I could literally run them over I get so frustrated, and not just if I'm already cranky- I yell at someone on the road every single day. I'm told this is “apparently” because of our “inattentiveness” and “inability to sit still”, and not because everyone else on the road is a freaking idiot. I don't know if I believe it, but that's what I'm told, anyway. ADHD brains are also more likely to get into car accidents. I've never been in a major accident while driving, thank God, but I'm only 22, and I've had four minor fender benders that, embarrassingly, didn't involve other cars, but me driving into things in parking lots. Once, I just wasn't looking behind me and backed into a pole. Another time, I thought that texting in the Tim Hortons drive-thru was a good idea. You get the idea.

6.   Forgetfulness

Again, everybody forgets things once in a while. But if you're forgetting or misplacing your homework, your car keys, your purse, your work pants (yes, I have actually lost a pair of pants before) every single day, then there might be a problem. Once, I parked my car near campus, spent the day studying in my friends' office, and then got a ride back to my car at the end of the day. My friend Dan was driving up and down the street I told him I had parked on asking me "is that your car? What about that one?" before I realized that I had parked on a different street on the other side of campus. I never thought being a bit scatterbrained was a problem, and if it only happens once in a while, it probably isn't. But all of these symptoms together paint a different picture.

7.    Difficulties With Motivation

I never really enjoyed studying, and I guess I was lucky that throughout grade school and high school, I didn't have to do very much of it. It's not that I didn't like learning, it's just that studying for extended periods of time is so boring. Even in my first three years of university, my super strict immigrant parents watched me like a hawk, so I did what I needed to do, as difficult as it was at times. That all changed when my fourth year rolled around and I moved to Ottawa for an exchange. With no one to stand at the foot of my bed and scream at me until I dragged myself out of it, I just... didn't. It wasn't because I didn't want to, it was just that I couldn't bring myself to. Same went for going to class, doing my readings, handing in assignments, showing up for exams... it wasn't pretty. This can also be a symptom of depression, and many people with ADHD, myself included, meet the diagnostic criteria for depression. The difference is that people with depression can't get out of bed because they're depressed; people with ADHD get depressed because they won't get out of bed.  We aren't lying in bed all day because our mood is low, but because we struggle with executive functioning - motivation, planning, organizing, and self-managing. Those things happen in the prefrontal cortex, and ours are underdeveloped. It can be hard to distinguish where the cycle begins for you, and before being diagnosed, I thought I had depression for sure, but as soon as my psychiatrist explained how ADHD works to me, it fit like a glove.

8.     Starting Projects and Never Finishing Them

This kind of goes hand in hand with lack of motivation, and it's something I've struggled with all my life. It's also one of the very few ADHD symptoms that isn't also a hallmark of something else, like depression or anxiety, so it should be a huge red flag if it's accompanied by some of these other symptoms! Most people tend to procrastinate things they don't want to do, like studying or cleaning their room. A big indicator that you might be dealing with something more than just laziness is when you procrastinate or don't finish even things you actually really want to do. And it's not because you're lazy or don't want to do it, it's because as great as it sounds, you just... can't. If you've ever started a scrapbook and tossed it to the side three days later, tried to start a club on campus but let it fall to the wayside, or created a blog then never actually updated it (I meant to have this posted a solid five days ago, whooooops), then you know what I'm talking about.

 9.       Being Scatterbrained

You're in the middle of a sentence and you completely lose your train of thought. Alternatively, you'll be halfway through a sentence then think of something more important that you want to say and totally abandon the idea you're halfway through and start talking about the new one instead. You interrupt people a lot, because you feel like you HAVE to say the thought that just popped into your head right now, lest it no longer be relevant if you wait five minutes, or even worse, you forget it again in 30 seconds. You're in the middle of an important text conversation but you open Instagram while you're waiting for them to text back... then half an hour later you're creeping your crush's ex's brother's best friend when you realize you never answered that super important text. You zone out while people are speaking directly to you, which makes you look super rude because it seems like you aren't paying attention. Our inability to focus hard on things can affect our lives in ways you never would have guessed- for example, I am terrible at proofreading and finding typos, and the number of assignments I've handed in with words missing from the middle of sentences is embarrassing. If this sounds like you (and if course, if this happens all day every day rather than once in a blue moon, because everybody get scatterbrained when they're overwhelmed), then you've come to the right place.

10.     Being SUPER Enthusiastic... Sometimes

We've already established that ADHD brains can have trouble with motivation and with staying committed to something long-term, but that doesn't capture the entire picture. If you think of depression as basically always being in a low state, ADHD is different in that you sort of swing from highs to lows and back again. Like I mentioned, ADHD brains don't have enough dopamine transmitters, and we kind of get addicted to anything that does produce a dopamine high. So if something does make us happy or excited, we're gonna be the happiest, most excited people on earth. My psychiatrist gave me a situation where an ADHD person might win $5 on a scratch off ticket, but the way they jump up and down all excited makes the people around them think they've won a million dollars. In my case, this often looks like getting really excited about a paper or assignment for a class I'm particularly interested in. I'll take out books from the library and hyper-focus on planning the assignment for about three days... then the whole "starting a project but never finishing it" kicks in, and that's a whole different story...

11.    Verbal Aggression (As Opposed to Physical Aggression)

Although I don't mean to generalize or to imply that every single boy or girl is the same, this tends to be a notable difference between girls with ADHD and their male counterparts. Girls are much less likely to be physically violent, but when you piss us off, or trigger our Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria (that's what my next post is going to be about, by the way!)… watch out. You might get a verbal beatdown like you've never experienced before. This is one of the ugliest and most frustrating things about having ADHD for me. I'll tell the people I love that I hate them, that they're ruining my life, that I wish they were never born; I'll pick on the things I know they're sensitive about and call them every curse word in the book... only to regret it five minutes and sheepishly try to convince this deeply wounded person that I didn't actually mean it. It sucks. Big time.

And finally, the one I really wish I knew all this time...

12.    Being Diagnosed With Something Else

Throughout this post, I've given a dozen examples of the ways ADHD symptoms can appear like symptoms of depression and anxiety. ADHD in girls is notoriously misdiagnosed, and girls with ADHD are three times as likely as boys to be treated for depression before being properly diagnosed. Beyond that, ADHD can be comorbid with anxiety and depression. I've dealt with anxiety and panic attacks since I was eight, and was formally diagnosed with anxiety at 17. When I was diagnosed with ADHD, I was told that I meet all the diagnostic criteria for depression, but it was likely that treating my ADHD would make it go away. My depression went away within literally one week of starting ADHD medication. My anxiety did not go away, but it has been reduced by about 50%. I realized that about half of the somatic experiences I identified as panic attacks were not triggered by mental anxiety but by sensory overload because, as ADHD brains do, I was perceiving way too much of what was going on around me and getting overwhelmed to the point that I would experience panic attack symptoms- dizziness, shortness of breath, nausea, you know the drill. Another statistic that would have made a difference in my life is that girls with ADHD are 2.7 times more likely to suffer from anorexia nervosa than girls without ADHD. I struggled with anorexia from age 16 to 19, so this was quite a shock to discover three years later. There's definitely some cool brain science behind that why that is, so maybe it'll be the subject of a future post!

 If you have any questions about this post, or think that you or a loved one might be dealing with ADHD, do not hesitate to reach out to me with any questions! I also want to stress that this might seem like a lot, and that anyone dealing with all of this crap would stand out from a mile away, but if that was the case, so many of us wouldn’t go undiagnosed until post-secondary. I experienced all twelve of these signs and symptoms, but the only ones that pushed me to see a psychiatrist were relationship problems, difficulty with motivation, and verbal aggression. Most of these things didn’t seem like they were impacting my day-to-day functioning- I get good grades, have a job, and have no trouble making friends. So please don’t get fall into the trap of telling yourself that what you’re going through “isn’t bad enough to be a real problem.” If something feels off, see a doctor, because you deserve to live the best life possible. 

That’s all for now folks! Stay tuned for my next post about Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria.

[burnleyjobs]

5 Reasons Why You Should Use a Recruitment Agency

How Using A Recruitment Company Can Help Your Business

5. Extended Reach For The Best Talent

A recruitment organization will have to get admission to the high-quality brain available; this consists of gettingting admission to candidates that are actively in search of work, as properly as the brain that is presently employed elsewhere.

If you use a Recruitment Agency for  Burnley Jobs, you’re statistically greater in all likelihood to get right of entry to the fine job-seekers on the market; candidates who are actively searching for a new job function are extra possibly to register with a recruitment company due to their efficiency. Most organizations will function job emptiness adverts on a vary of job boards, grasp the logistics and advertising price in the back of the use of everyone - helpful expertise that can solely be accessed from working in the recruitment sector. Finding the proper candidates can from time to time be difficult, clearly due to the fact they can be difficult to find. If candidates don’t function themselves as ‘actively looking for a job’ then they are most in all likelihood to have a trusted, professional recruiter who commits to job functions on their behalf – that’s get entry to to a ‘talent pool’ that can also be unreachable otherwise. Recruitment businesses  - Burnley Jobs have many networks – every marketing consultant has the viable to leverage their networks to assist connect you to the proper people.

4. Saves Time

It’s frequent understanding that in business, time is money; however, if you use a recruitment agency, you are saving time. Recruitment companies shop your enterprise time due to the fact they take care of the preliminary steps in the hiring process. No extra sifting via functions and CV’s, a recruitment enterprise will make certain that the time you spend in the utility manner is spent accurately on viewing these well worth considering. However, it doesn’t give up there; a recruitment company will then timetable interviews and put together the candidates with all the statistics they want – all you have to do is put together and flip up! Recruitment organizations deal with all of the administration troubles such as: communications with profitable candidates and unsuccessful applications, as properly as verifying candidate facts like skills and references. If a enterprise chooses to use a recruitment corporation then they will limit the time and in-house assets wanted for recruitment dedication; this can lead to a faster turnaround in filling vacancies and an expand in the effectivity of the organisation.

3. Additional Services

Recruitment corporations habits heritage tests on candidates, which is fundamental when thinking about practicable employees; this can be surely time eating as it includes following up on references, conducting preliminary interviews and making certain the candidate fits what they promise on their CV. Another cause as to why you need to use a recruitment corporation is due to the fact a commercial enterprise can sense certain that any candidate you meet has already handed the provisional exams as section of the extra services. It’s vital to think about the extra offerings furnished by way of a recruitment enterprise when deciding on which to go with, for example: psychometric tests, contract and everlasting recruitment, government search, venture assist and managed offerings are all really useful services supplied by means of the quality recruitment agencies. VHR gives on-line aviation education offerings for candidates, locate out extra here. If your commercial enterprise has a job function handy with an unsure salary, a recruitment employer is ideally positioned to provide you a correct market price the usage of earnings records, and nearby market knowledge. Most recruitment companies will use websites such as Glassdoor and Indeed to benchmark salaries and anticipated candidate rates.

2. Expertise: Market Knowledge

Often, your candidate necessities might also be precise and challenging to find; this is the place a recruiter’s enterprise knowledge and market understanding proves to be priceless. For example, if you are hiring a supervisor then you may additionally want an specialist opinion and expertise of contemporary recruitment law - the corporation ought to understand all the applicable necessities and legalities applicable. Once you have developed a relationship with a recruitment organization that you trust, your future hiring’s will be simpler as the enterprise will be conscious of the features that are wished to make the proper in shape inside your business. The high-quality recruitment corporations will act as companions and collaborators, and will be your eyes and ears in the market. Recruiters are enterprise experts in their markets and can supply the hiring group normal perception in to what is happening. These recruiters will know: how to attain out to the high-quality handy talent, income rates, profession expectations, cutting-edge hiring complexities, accessible skill-sets and shortages. For example, if there is a conflict to locate the identical best of candidates in different applicable businesses, then specialist recruiters will be capable to recommend on choice solutions.

1. Short-term And Long-term Cost Savings

Recruitment businesses will have allocations on all the pinnacle job boards, so you can make sure that your business’s job advert is in the right region - posting single one-off jobs with advertising and marketing organizations can be expensive. The price of sifting via CVs and conducting preliminary conversations provides up, then again if business’s use a recruitment organisation then now not solely is that fee reduced, however there is additionally the potential for the recruiter to assist negotiate the high-quality earnings (giving each practise and recommendation on what is truthful pay) ensuing a larger hazard in hiring the pinnacle candidate.

Short time period prices saved:

Posting job adverts - fee removed

The in-house team of workers can function their different duties

Reduces attainable extra time expenses (temporary hire/overtime periods)

Reduces the possibility and fee of hiring a candidate unfit for the role

Long time period fees saved:

Reduces coaching charges (some recruitment organizations provide candidates the danger to analyze field-specific rules while looking for a job)

Future hiring prices are decreased due to truthful relationships with a recruitment agent

Find out extra about VHR’s recruitment knowledge and award-winning recruitment services, or examine about the significance of moral recruitment.

[violetsystems]

#personal

It was a productive but discouraging week for the most part.  I received my second dose of the Pfizer shot on Wednesday.  I felt a little more exhausted than usual but I’m fine.  Thursday I had a message in my inbox on LinkedIn about a job.  Two or three weeks ago I had applied for another job which was seen but no reply.  The offer sounded interesting so I replied and they asked to schedule a phone call.  So this was to be the first human interview I’ve had since ten months or so ago.  The recruiter’s prescreening went pretty well.  The first call.  Which means there were a total of about three or four calls in a two hour span.  I’ve interviewed a lot of people over the years but never really had the reason to interview myself.  That happens when you are consecutively employed for twenty years.  So while I am a little rusty, this occasion I had a particularly good opener for a classic question.  What drew me to the job in the first place?  I had a nametag tucked above a cabinet from 2014 that I had forgotten about.  It was from when I attended a lecture by myself about Abenomics and the rebuilding of Japan after the Tsunami.  It was at the Federal Reserve Bank of Chicago.  It’s pretty tight security in that building.  But in 2014 they let a malcontent like myself in there.  At the time I was doing a lot of work which LinkedIn now categorizes as “human rights.”  Mostly volunteering for local organizations like Japan America Society of Chicago to attend these lectures and even helping run a Korean fest with a chamber of commerce after work.  I did all this alone.  Mostly to network and meet new people.  This is back when I thought meeting new people was the answer.  The answer in the interview was a lot shorter but it impressed the screener enough to finish the call and send me the scary forms to fill out.  Then there was a call back.  “I’m so sorry we forgot to talk about wages.”  That really wasn’t my fault.  But that is always the hardest part.  The job offer was a six month contract and not salary.  So I quoted my current hourly rate which was seemingly too high for the recruiter.  So they quoted low.  Which worked out to be about half of my salary last year without benefits.  I still had interest.  It was remote work but I’m literally not very far and fully vaccinated.  I told them on the first call I had a zero trust office network set up for my consulting.  Then the tone started to get weird.  I had sent a 2020 resume because it was the most relevant.  That did not include my current consulting business.  The woman on the second call started to dig deeper after the salary question.  “Can you tell me what you’ve been doing since your last job at the school and why you didn’t include it on your resume?”  I explained that I formed a LLC back in later December and have been working for smaller clients freelance.  She asked me to edit my resume and add this.  She wanted it within the hour so she could “sell me to her hiring manager” properly to be considered for an interview.  I did so.  A third call.  “Can you add specifically the types of computers you supported?”  That was in there.  A request to fill out more scary forms for the federal reserve.  A fourth message.  “Can you add specifically the types of computer you supported at your old job as well?”  It was then I thought something was extremely fishy.  So I apologized and rescinded my offer.  Then I spent most of the rest of the day feeling like a failure.  Discouraging but productive.

I woke up the next morning to an email in my professional inbox from another person at the recruiting agency.  It was legal in nature informing me I had the option to file a EEO form.  This is tied to equal opportunity insofar that by signing it, the recruiter must by law share with their client all the names of applicants that they screened and probably why.  Do I expect any justice?  Not really.  I don’t know that I would have even been selected if I got the chance to interview.  It is a federal job after all.  The point is that in the eyes of a hiring manager at a recruitment agency, my resume did not seem strong enough.  If learning through failure is apparent, I shudder to think if I didn’t start a company back in December what my next interview would be like.  That is if I even get an interview.  I was reading this morning that HP and HP Enterprise are being hit with a class action for age discrimination.  There’s a lot of reasons for this.  But particularly when it comes to the money game, people fresh out of school are easier to leverage.  Whether it is tax breaks for hiring new grads or simply cheaper salaries with less experience, the agenda is simple.  Save more money so CEO’s and shareholders can get a bigger piece of the cut.  Meanwhile, America’s answer is that it is the perfect time to start your own business.  Then compete with huge sprawling mega corporations and recruitment firms that have galvanized the employment market with their magic show of balance sheets and deductions.  I’m qualified to do a lot of things which is great.  I just bought a drone so I could use the SDK to learn Python and UI design.  These are great things to add to my resume for 2021.  But the likelihood of being employable with no debt to speak of is like kryptonite to the job market.  Much less the fact that my entire professional network is scared to admit I’m alive in fear of them being blamed for favoring their job security over friendship.  I was very lucky to be where I was at when this happened back in July because of the CARES act.  I just finished the personal nightmare side of my taxes from that year on tax day.  There’s still my business to do.  Which if anything I’m more qualified to do these days, it’s your accounting.  Add those skills to the resume stat.  Along with all the computers you supported since before you were born.  Twice.  It still does not matter.  And this is where I hit this insane brick wall.  I try to be acknowledged and useful.  I try to be employable and valuable.  And I am treated in such a shitty and abusive way that I’m starting to wonder if I’m better off behind closed doors.  I have money.  I have deductions.   I have time on my hands to organize my life so I don’t spend unwisely.  I have a roof over my head with a verbal agreement at best.  And I have been living in the oblivion of no one wanting to admit fault or praise since July in varying degrees of comfort.  I’ve had people stalk me in the street because of the companies I’ve invested in like they’re the fucking mob.  I’ve gone through all of this alone while people have peeped over my shoulder.  And I’m supposed to think the law is on my side in a city that shoots thirteen year olds point blank in the chest with their hands up.  If I know one thing, it is what I can rely on.  And mostly that has been my own instinct, wisdom and prudent decisions.  And I know where I’m at at the end of the day.  Pretty much at the end of my rope with the whole process of being ignored and treated like some joke.  Then there’s people who see me in a different light.  A different hue of the spectrum.  Easier to read than my resume after it’s been edited fourteen times that’s for sure.

Things are extremely broken.  Living in a neighborhood and a sanctuary city sometimes you look for the places that aren’t.  Regardless of feeling useless and unemployable, there are times when I feel valued.  Times when people in the street follow me around more so in solidarity than fear.  People who want to be free to express themselves and look the way they feel.  People who don’t want to lower themselves to mediocre standards just to get ahead.  People who want to walk around without being judged by people who never critique themselves.  As fucked up as everything is, there’s another side to this coin.  People do get what I’m about.  That meme about people going to your hood or block and never hearing about you?  You try that shit with me and you are in for a history lesson these days.  There are no shortage of people in Chicago who will tell you all about me.  Some of it is skewed.  Some of it is nostalgia.  And then there’s people in this neighborhood who know all about stuff I haven’t told anyone.  Like I don’t sit on the weekends talking to my friends about who I like or who I think the world of.  I don’t really have the luxury of trusting many people in my situation.  And yet sometimes when I walk out to get groceries or pay the bills, someone is there to say it without even saying it.  That people just get what I’m about without me having to say anything.  Besides three paragraphs on the internet every week or so.  The reason I don’t fuck with people.  The reason I keep to myself.  The reason I don’t really care if you get me or not.  That confidence is something infectious.  That after all the fucking shit I’ve been through I keep it real regardless.  Every year some troll has to prove me wrong and fails.  Every failure proves a very clear point.  The problem isn’t me.  I’m not invisible.  I’m not hard to understand.  I’m not a liar or a traitor.  I’m literally just existing here while people size me up.  Nobody has asked my name or my agenda.  Nobody really has had enough of a human conversation to pry it out of me.  I’m an only child.  I grew up lonely and learned how to survive on my own.  I also learned begrudgingly to stand up for myself.  It doesn’t mean I don’t like society or am anti social.  How the fuck can I be anti social when everyone can’t stop talking about me in public?  I understand people are antsy, paranoid and fatigued because of the pandemic.  But some of us have literally been rolling through this warzone for years.  I’m supposed to feel humbled and privileged to be so lucky to have survived?  Fuck you.  The number one thing con artists try to do is fuck with your confidence.  Because we all know better by this point.  America is not working.  Specifically we can’t when we’re overqualified and a threat to the natural order of whatever corporate scam is going on these days.  The one thing I know is that people with actual money got richer this year.  Stocks, 401k’s, CEO salaries, tax breaks, and whatever else you throw in there.  If I learned one thing from starting an actual business, it’s that the books are overcooked for a reason.  Not that mine are.  Years and years of shady deals are hard to cover up.  Donald Trump took a loss on his business for years and evaded taxes.  I’m technically what they call going concern.  But there aren’t many tax breaks for me as a small business.  Nor is there much money coming in other than what I can hustle out of the market or royalties.  Did I mention I’m royalty?  Not in the Prince Harry sense of the word.  But I do hold the sword and shield up for feminism in America.  That much we’ve learned by now.  That and the glass ceiling is harsher for women than it is for me.  So maybe I’ll sit this one out and let the ladies take control.  In that I know my work is worth something.  Just consider me interning for the movement at the moment.  And make sure you sign that contract in bright pink because I’m not really paying attention to anything in the red.  As far as the federal reserve is concerned, my finances are in the green.  <3 Tim

[mythicalreb]

I don’t think anyone will see this, but I needed to get it out there in hopes of getting it off my mind.

It’s currently 3:30am, as yet I haven’t been to sleep and tbh I haven’t slept “properly” during “normal” bedtime hours for weeks. I’ve been signed off work since the middle of December with stress/anxiety/depression having already had to increase the dose of the anti-depressants I’m taking because like everyone the pandemic has taken it’s toll on my mental health. Unlike many people, I’m not at risk of losing my job and I’m still being paid full pay whilst off sick. Which is nice, but also not nice. It actually makes me feel worse because I know there are so so many people who aren’t this lucky and who are suffering so much more/worse than I am so I know I’m not in any position to be playing the “woe is me” card. But my god do I feel awful. Honestly like such a waste of space.

I know it’s all been brought on by work, and again I know in the current climate I’m just lucky to have a job tbh, but when you’ve been isolating at home since 17th March 2020 and seen no one but your husband and (when the lockdown was eased over summer here in the UK) a hairdresser twice and a chiropractor, it’s a bit much. I was working from home, finishing my shift and doing minimum 2-3 hours extra every single day and even logging in at weekends because we were so short staffed, the team I’m in was being used to cover other teams in my department due to staff shortages but we got no help when we were short. I was the lone member of my team of 6 in for 3 days with no help on one occasion and more than 3 times we were down to just 2 of us. So I was working my arse off, as were the rest of my team and then just before I went off sick there was the final straw. We were down to just 2 of us, we were told we wouldn’t be getting any help because another team had a slightly higher workload than us (although they had a full team in) so we struggled on and did the best we could only to be told it wasn’t enough and it was unacceptable that we hadn’t been able to make all the phone calls to customers on top of our other work that had been allocated to us. It sounds really petty to write it out like that, but honestly that’s what pushed me over the edge - being told that even though I’d done my best, it wasn’t good enough. I was told this in an email by a manager that can’t do my job, who didn’t have the decency to call me back a few weeks prior when I’d left a voicemail in tears saying I was struggling and who, as far as I’m aware, hasn’t even bothered to reply to the email I sent back saying I’m sorry my best isn’t good enough for you.

All this I guess to say, I’m signed off work until the end of this week and I know it’ll all start again if I go back next week so I know I’m not ready to return, but I also feel so guilty about not going back that it’s making me worse and I honestly don’t know what to do.

[nyc-uws]

Why Aren’t We Wearing Better Masks?

Cloth masks are better than nothing, but they were supposed to be a stopgap measure.

Zeynep Tufekci and Jeremy Howard January 13, 2021

If you’re like most Americans, there’s a good chance you’re going to wear a cloth mask today. Doing so makes sense. It remains the official recommendation in the United States, and it is something we’ve both advocated since the beginning of the pandemic. Both of us wrote articles as far back as March urging people to wear homemade cloth masks. We’re also the authors (along with 17 other experts) of a paper titled “An Evidence Review of Face Masks Against COVID,” which was just published in peer-reviewed form in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences. But it’s past time for better solutions to be available to the public.

We first released the paper as a preprint back in April, and it took nine months to go through peer review. We’re happy that it’s published but, to be honest, we’re also deeply disappointed that it’s still relevant. We’d hoped that by 2021 supply chains would have ramped up enough to ensure that everyone had better masks. Cloth masks, especially homemade ones, were supposed to be a stopgap measure. Why are so many of us still wearing them?

Don’t get us wrong; everything we said about the efficacy of cloth masks stands the test of time. Wearing them is much better than wearing nothing. They definitely help reduce transmission of the coronavirus from the wearer and likely protect the wearer to some degree as well. But we know that not all masks are equal, and early on in the pandemic, there was a dire shortage of higher-grade masks for medical workers. During those emergency conditions, something was much better than nothing. There are better possibilities now, but they require action and guidance by the authorities.

Even all cloth masks are not equal. Construction, materials, and fit matter, and these can’t be tracked or certified with homemade masks. Unlike cloth masks, medical-grade masks (also called respirators) that adhere to standards such as N95 (in the U.S.), FFP2 (in the European Union), and KN95 (in China) do a much better job of protecting the wearer and dampening transmission. Ideally, they should also come with instructions on how to wear them and ensure that they fit properly.

Because we have written about masks, we’ve become informal advisers to friends, family, and strangers on the internet. We’re not much help, though. When our friends ask us simple questions like “Where should I buy a mask?” or “Is my mask any good?,” we don’t have great answers. We can mumble generalities: Make sure it fits well; here are some guidelines about layers; try to avoid fake N95s. But if we can’t give wholly satisfying answers to such basic questions, then how is the general public expected to fare?

Tragically, America is swamped with fraudulent medical-grade masks, some of which are only 1 percent effective. Many masks do not have labels clearly indicating their manufacturer. Some official mask-testing methods are inappropriate, including the use of far higher pressure than normal breathing exerts. No reasonable certification is available for the most useful masks generally available to the public. All of this means that everyone has to somehow figure out for themselves which masks are effective.

We routinely get PR pitches for excellent new solutions as well as snake-oil remedies, and we sometimes have trouble telling them apart—how is an ordinary person supposed to evaluate competing claims? When we share our articles about masks on social media, we are asked where to buy proper masks. Not only do we have no answer, but we often find that marketers will answer instead, directing readers to unreliable, overpriced masks. Worse, the supply situation apparently remains so dire that the CDC still “does not recommend that the general public wear N95 respirators,” because they’re crucial supplies that must continue to be reserved for health-care workers and other first responders.

Not all countries have this problem. Taiwan massively scaled up its manufacturing of masks at the start of 2020, such that by April every citizen received a fresh supply of high-quality masks each week, and the distribution system was regulated by the government. Taiwan’s COVID-19 death rate per capita is more than 1,000 times lower than that in the U.S. Hong Kong has been distributing patented six-layer masks (the efficacy of which has been laboratory tested) to every citizen. Singapore is on at least its fourth round of distributing free, reusable, multilayer masks with filters to everyone—even kids, who get kid-size ones. In Germany, Bavaria has just announced that it will be requiring higher-grade masks. If all of these places can do this, why can’t we?

Fixing this problem is more urgent now that a new variant of the coronavirus, known as the B.1.1.7 lineage, is making its way around the world. This variant is believed to be about 50 to 70 percent more transmissible than earlier strains of the virus. Masks are an important part of the battle against this new variant because they decrease transmission by reducing the number of infectious particles spread by a mask wearer (known as “source control”) and by reducing the amount that a mask wearer inhales. The cloth masks that we focus on in our paper do a good job at source control, but on their own they do not protect the wearer as well as medical-grade respirators do. That’s why health-care workers wear respirators, and that’s why leaving existing supplies for them was important early on—they were dealing directly with COVID-19 patients, so they needed the protection. Right now, while the CDC language on supply shortages has not been updated, it’s unclear if that’s because the shortages are really that dire or because this topic has not been paid sufficient attention. In either case, the CDC should update us on the situation. And if, indeed, we are still suffering from shortages, emergency measures should finally be implemented to manufacture such masks at home.

Not having higher-grade medical masks or even reliable, certified cloth masks distributed to the population means more transmission. But that’s not all. If we could confidently tell people that the masks would also help protect the wearer from infection, we would likely get more people to wear them. Appealing to solidarity is excellent (“My mask protects you; your mask protects me”), but being able to confidently add self-interest to the equation would be even better.

Ideally we would have ramped up supply and been able to produce and distribute certified higher-filtration masks to the whole population. At a minimum, we should have created a certification program and a distribution channel that allows people to purchase higher-grade masks with confidence. Even better, we could have distributed them to the public for free like so many other places. It’s not just that many other countries showed us the way: Many experts have been urging a switch to better-grade masks as soon as possible. For example, Abraar Karan and his co-authors wrote on the same topic many, many times, in May, June, October, and even this month. As Karan pointed out to us, the fact that some people refuse to wear masks makes it even more imperative that we distribute higher-grade masks to those willing to wear them.

We need the CDC and the FDA to step up and provide simple, clear, actionable, and specific information that would allow the public to know which masks are reliable and where they can get them, as well as how to upgrade and better wear their existing options. Initial studies suggest that widely available surgical masks, combined with a mask brace, could increase the effectiveness of the surgical masks. Cloth masks can be upgraded with a nose wire (for fit) and a filter insert—and more than 100,000 types of these masks are available on Etsy. A good supply of KN95 masks is available from China, with many supermarkets and pharmacies now selling them for a couple of dollars each. But none of these solutions can work widely as long as the public has little guidance on which masks are reliable and certified.

When, three months ago, one of us found FDA-certified KN95 masks at a local supermarket, she was shocked that they were just sitting in a large bin, next to similarly priced single-layer cloth masks. There was no run on them, because the public was not informed of their importance. When she spread word of the masks on social media, hoping some locals would be able to take advantage of this chance, she was inundated by people asking whether they were fake—a valid concern, given that the country is awash in fake masks. She ended up purchasing a bunch to distribute, an effort that would have been comical if it weren’t so tragic.

One person reached out to say that his fiancée was about to undergo an organ transplant and was expected to do her rehabilitation wearing only cloth masks. A handoff of medical-grade masks was arranged. To an observer, it might have looked like a drug deal: people exiting their cars in a parking lot, searching for someone they clearly had not met before; both looking at the cars around them and their phone until they managed to meet up. Finally, a package was handed over, cash was offered but refused—an agreement was struck to pay it forward with a favor to someone else—and a relieved-looking man took the package back to his car and drove off. But it was much worse than a drug deal, the whole episode proof of a disastrous public-health breakdown in the United States.

Zeynep Tufekci is a contributing writer at The Atlantic and an associate professor at the University of North Carolina. She studies the interaction between digital technology, artificial intelligence, and society.

Jeremy Howard  is a researcher at the University of San Francisco and a co-founder of the Masks4All campaign.

https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2021/01/why-arent-we-wearing-better-masks/617656/?utm_source=pocket-newtab

Read: The real reason to wear a mask

Read: How a bizarre claim about masks has lived on for months