#yes i looked up the word for the study of human evolution

[s30620]

Chapter 103: Vamola 3

Note: This chapter contains material that may cause discomfort in some readers. Please be careful if you choose to read this chapter!

This was their lowest point. Vamola, Banga, Tome and Aja were all ready to die then and there. However, Banga is holding on to one last hope, one miniscule chance that things can still work out for the Sumerian people, and that hope is possible because she has Vamola. I love the way she bounces back from the despair in this moment. Even in the face of death, Banga doesn't give up that easily.

I love these old ladies. Even when they're dying they still got the energy to banter.

[rs-hawk]

Are you willing to write about anthropomorphic gorillas?

Sure, like a Missing Link type thing? I think this piece is my longest so far. I actually had a lot of fun with it so let me know if y'all want more of it :)

You were studying evolution by going backwards, starting with modern day Homo Sapiens until you ended up on an island off the coast of South America, in the middle of no where. While you always had been a huge believer in the floating vegetation theory, the idea of something as large as a primate, hominin or hominid travelling via floating clumps of vegetation seemed far fetched, even to you. Yet here you were, standing on one island of a long island chain that had previously never been studied.

"Are you sure this is even worth the time?" your assistant asked as he looked around the area, a frown creasing his face. "I know that we're searching for a link, but come on Doc. This seems like a stretch."

"I know, but this is where those trees originated, and if they ended up in Brazil, maybe that could explain how New World Monkeys ended up in South America," you say, mirroring his frown.

The two of you, and a small crew, spread out to find a suitable place to camp. Once it's found, you settle in. In the morning, you've planned to try to find any primates who might still reside here. Much to your surprise, when you wake up in the morning, you see a large humanoid footprint right outside the campsite. A knot forms in your stomach as you imagine how big that creature must have been.

Your crew is also stunned, especially your assistant. He insists on following you around like a lost pup, toting a gun. You have to tell him to stop and calm down. Human presence here already is disruptive to the ecosystem. He doesn't need to make it worse. With a grumble and a grunt, he slings it over his shoulder, taking care not to let it catch on any flora in the area.

"Look at this," you breathe, gesturing to the large footprints that you found in a clearing.

You're so excited that you feel like you're basically vibrating. Yes, this isn't even close to what you're looking for, but a primate of that size would be the scientific discovery of the century! Who knows what something like that could mean for the state of evolution. Surely you could get another grant to come back and study it.

"Be careful," your assistant mutters as you approach the footprints, measuring the size and diameter. The depth of the footprint stuns you. "Whatever left that could be dangerous."

"You think everything could be dangerous," you roll your eyes, recording your notes. "Besides, I know more about primates than you. I know that they have the potential to be dangerous. We would see this creature if it was anywhere in the area."

"Yeah," he mutters, looking around.

After a bit of back and forth, you send him back to camp to get more supplies for you to study the footprints. Once he's out of sight, you pause before following the footprints. He would be on you about following this creature, but you can't help yourself. Something is pulling you closer to it. Like a primal need to be closer to this creature. This piece of your own history.

A voice that you don't recognize came from somewhere in the distance in front of you. After a moment, a huge, towering figure comes out of the trees. The trees themselves bend to his will. Your stomach drops. You steps falter. This creature could have easily crushed you if it so chose.

The creature, a towering hulk of a something that is a perfect blend of man and gorilla. Your throat feels like it's closing up as it stops a few paces away from you. Opening its mouth, the creature speaks to you again, but you still don't understand what the words mean.

"I'm sorry," you say after a moment, the stunned buzzing in your brain starting to dissipate. This creature can speak. There's no way that your grant won't be extended. "I don't understand what you're saying."

He, you think he based on the physique this close, frowns at you. He speaks again. You shake your head. Once more. Again, you shake. This time when he speaks, you don't understand what he's saying, but you do recognize it as Latin. "I don't speak Latin but it's the root language for mine."

The creature looks at you, now shaking his head. The both of you try to communicate with each other, and it works to an extent. You're fairly certain that he comes from a small village at the base of the mountain near the center of the island. They mostly eat fruits and vegetables, and he makes gestures that leads you to believe that clothes are sometimes worn, but not the norm.

Before you realize it, you and the creature are sitting beside each other, his towering form nearly obscuring you when your assistant finally makes his way back to you.

"What is that thing?" he yells, making a grab for his gun.

"Don't! He's friendly. He was telling me about his home," you jump up, putting yourself between them.

Your assistant eyes him wearily. The creature looks at you, then back at your assistant. He says something you don't understand in Latin, then waves at your assistant. He frowns slightly. It feels like there's going to be a stand off, but instead, your assistant folds his arms over his chest, a frown steeped into his features.

"Go back to the camp. Thank you for the supplies. I will be back before nightfall," you promise, slightly shooing him away.

After a bit of back and forth, you convince him to leave. You and the creature stay together for a long time, until dusk. Every day for weeks, the entire expedition, you meet up with the creature, getting closer to him. Getting to know him and his people. You even get to see the outskirts of the village. A true testament to how amazing evolution and innovation are.

When the night before you are set to leave comes, you come to him, standing outside his village, a basket of his favorite fruits and vegetables clutched in your shaking hands. He sees you, encouraging you to come into the village. Into his home. You follow, shrinking away from the gazes of his people, who seem to know you don't belong here. And how could they not? You're so small compared to them. So fragile.

In his hut, you feel even smaller. Everything in there is so large compared to you. You haven't been able to figure out a name from your new friend, but you've taken to calling him Link in your head. Link hands you a fruit that you've never seen before he sits in what is essentially a chair across from you.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," you say quietly, looking down at your fruit. He doesn't respond. You look up at him, and you can tell even under the fur that he's frowning. "In the morning, the boat is leaving. I have to go with them."

He says something you don't understand, to which you shrug. He points at the hole that functions as a door in his hut, then at you, and waves. You nod. He looks down at his hands, his shoulders slumped forward. Neither of you say anything for a moment, then he gets up. His massive form nearly encompassing you as he stands in front of you.

He opens his mouth, then closes it. In broken English, he says, "S-stay." Your eyes well with tears as you shake your head, staring at the way his hands cover yours when he grabs them. "Me. Stay me."

You shake your head again, wishing that you could remember any Latin outside of names. Why didn't you pay more attention in class? "I can't."

He lets go of your hands before pacing around the hut. You look at the now crushed fruit in your hands. "Go me."

"What?" you look up at him, your heart soaring. Was he saying what you thought he was? Then again, your mind races. What would happen to him when you got back home? He would be seen as a specimen, wouldn't he?

"Go me," he comes back to you, grabbing your hands, the juice squishing between your fingers as he tightens his grip. "Go me. Go you. Go me."

"You can't come with me," you whisper, caressing his furry face. He looks at you like his heart his breaking. "I wish I could explain better." You slide your hands out of his, trying not to cry. You point toward yourself, "people like me," then you touch his chest, "would kill someone like you." You drag your thumb across your throat.

He seems to understand what you're saying, though he looks more hurt than scared. "Go me," he whispers cupping your face with his large hands. "Stay you?"

You shake your head, leaning into his touch. What had you been thinking? If you come back here, if you study them, they'll be destroyed. Their entire culture will be gone, consumed by capitalism and greed. Isn't that what's happened a thousand times over?

Suddenly, you're snapped out of your thoughts by the feeling of his lips pressed against yours. His fur tickling your skin. You blink a couple of times before kissing him back, surprised but happily so by the sudden show of affection. His tongue demands an entry to your mouth. You shiver, giving in to the lust and overwhelming affection for him that has sprung up on you all at once, but unsurprisingly.

His large hands trail down your body, pausing at the end of your shirt. He mutters something against your lips that you understand the gist of. He wants you as bare as him. You hesitate, your face flushing, but it only takes another tug at your shirt for you to relent. In seconds you've stripped yourself, probably the fastest you've ever done such. His huge hands cup your breasts, covering them completely. When he picks you up to settle you in his lap, you feel how big his cock is hard. Sure, you've seen it as he doesn't wear clothes, but this was different.

Maybe he's more human than you thought, because unlike other primate species, but like humans, size did seem to matter. You realize that when he breaks the kiss to look at you, then at himself. He looks... embarrassed.

You don't know what compels you, maybe just the look on his face, but you start stroking him, having to use both hands to wrap about him. His eyes fall to half lidded. His breathing hitches. Slowly, he grinds his hips against you, letting you stroke him at your leisure. You dip your head down, struggling, but managing, to take the tip of his cock in your mouth. He grunts, digging his nails into your back. You know there will be, at best, crescent shaped bruises on your back come morning.

You bob your head as much as you can manage, his grunts and soft whines spurring you on. While you can't understand the things that slip from his mouth, you can tell by the way he says them that he's enjoying it.

You do your best to get him further down your throat, bracing yourself against his furry hips, but that just makes him grunt, snorting out of flared nostrils. For a second you still, every hair on the back of your neck standing up. Every nerve screaming danger. Even in this moment, you are aware that a primate doing that can spell death. It's a common sign of anger or aggression.

You're surprised when he lifts your head off of him, shaking his head. You frown, raising your eyebrows to ask why. He pauses before adjusting you, easily picking you up and settling you back in his lap, this time with your back against his chest. You're a bit ashamed of yourself to see the mess your wetness made of his fur, but that thought abandons you as he grinds his cock against your core, but his fingers dip down in front of you, teasing your clit.

You whine, grinding back against him. With his other hand, he's back to playing with your breast, softly pinching your nipples. Rolling his thumb over your senstive center over and over again. He brings you to a surprisingly quick orgasm. He makes a sound you think sounds like a laugh before his fingers dip lower. You still, even your breathing, as he slids one finger into your dripping hole.

He starts off slowly as he fingers you, before adding another. You press yourself more against his chest, whimpering and babbling about how good it feels. This time, you're sure it's a chuckle. He spreads his fingers out inside of you, trying to stretch you out. Your head lulls to the side, leaning against his arm. You feel so full. So good. Through your haze, it takes you a moment to realize that he's settling you onto his cock.

A quiet yip escapes your lips as his huge tip fills you more than anything you've ever taken. He pauses, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You try to press yourself down on him. You don't even realize you're chanting. Begging.

"More. More. Please! More."

He understands the premise enough to push you down lower and lower on him, slowly impaling you. He gives you time to adjust, and by the time he bottoms out inside of you, you're a drooling, babbling mess. He drops you up and down on his cock slowly, then faster and faster. You're crying out for him, grabbing onto his arms as he bounces you on his cock, the huge member even extending your stomach. You know you're soaking his fur, but you can't help yourself. You lose track of how many times him pounding and sliding against your g-spot makes you cum.

By the time he does, you're sobbing from over stimulation, and he's whispering to you in a soothing voice, stroking your hair with one hand as the other guides you to roll your hips on him. He finally cums, so much that it overflows from you. You whimper and press your head back harder against him, feeling the best you ever have in your life. How are you possibly supposed to leave him?

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 407: Wait Why Are You Running Away

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan figured out how to control his quirk upgrade and was totally chill and normal about it. Definitely not terrifying at all. He actually spent the entire chapter smiling and laughing like the wholesome little boy he is. I don’t know why Kid For One is so freaked out about it. He even politely introduced himself using his childhood nickname. Clearly he just wants to be friends with you, KFO!

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “sorry to keep you waiting, here’s the AFO and Yoichi flashback you ordered at long last” and proceeds to serve a nightmarish stew of HUMAN MISERY and RATS and STABBING and CARNAGE and SO MUCH MURDER and THE SINGLE MOST FUCKED-UP CASE OF CODEPENDENCY ANYONE HAS EVER WRITTEN. I was not even remotely prepared for any of this, and if anyone else claims that they were, I will call you a liar to your face. If this chapter had a mouth it would scream. Or just sob, ceaselessly and uncontrollably. I’m really glad Horikoshi is on break next week because that man needs to take a fucking nap. My god.

okay WOW

anyone else read the first two words and just immediately say to themselves, “oh okay, so it’s gonna be one of those chapters”? I mean, I guess we were due for a darker chapter after last week’s Kacchan Comedy Tour. but idk, I just wasn’t expecting “homeless sick prostitute with a drinking problem” levels of dark

AND SHE’S PREGNANT?!

what exactly is this manga rated again? doesn’t this backstory seem just a little bit raw for the impressionable kiddos??

has anyone actually checked in on Horikoshi recently? you know, just to make sure he is okay??

what a fun and wholesome manga this is

the lil baby arm covered in blood with the AFO hole on the palm. lying next to the dead mom hand. what an image to sear into our minds. I guess it’s been a while since he killed any dogs. gotta keep us on our toes somehow

also wasn’t expecting AFO and Yoichi to be twins! that puts an interesting spin on their relationship, because it’s usually a closer bond than even regular siblings. especially with all of that delightful shared trauma from a young age!!

yes, exactly

ohhhh this chapter is gonna hurt me, isn’t it. okay. ooooooookay. let’s do this

OH I’M SORRY, THERE’S MORE?!

Horikoshi my dude. you do realize that their mom dying in childbirth and the two of them just barely surviving and growing up as street orphans would have already been MORE than tragic enough, backstory-wise. you did not have to turn this into a freaking horror show with RATS TRYING TO EAT THEIR NEWBORN SELVES jesus christ

and THAT’S where you chose to put a one year timeskip?!

what the fuck am I reading here, you guys. no please tell me, I am actually desperate to understand

so the narrator is saying that some of the quirks manifested later in life, in “pubescent and pre-pubescent stages”, which is interesting because it’s the first time I can recall hearing about someone actually manifesting a quirk that late. maybe Deku’s old OFA cover story was more plausible than I realized

anyway so eventually it occurred to everyone that they should maybe freaking study this shit, idk. and eventually the researchers concluded that the superpowers came from a new gene that apparently isn’t human. and upon hearing that, society apparently lost its freaking mind. which is fascinating to me because it implies that the turning point wasn’t actually the superpowers themselves, but the realization of what it meant

like, so they were apparently fine with it when they thought it was a “mysterious disease”, but somehow it hit different when they learned it wasn’t actually a sickness at all, but instead the Next Step in Evolution. and it became an “us vs them” thing, as opposed to a “we have to cure these poor people” thing. damn

anyway so now Japan is a dystopia and we’re cutting to a big crowd of merc-looking dudes who are getting ready to attack some “meta freaks”, how lovely

but who is this figure in the shadows

I ask politely, as if it wasn’t already beyond obvious that this is AFO about to wreck some people’s shit

ohhhhh my god lmao

hopefully Katsuki and Deku can take the present day AFO out before he winds up looking like this. because this little fella is clearly demonic and idk if anyone can stop him

you all don’t understand. you need to run the fuck away right now

oh shit it’s already too late for them

it’s too late for any of us. it’s over. it’s all fucking over

((((；゜Д゜)))

AFO I am putting the manga down. I am backing away slowly with my hands in the air. I mean you no harm. please for the love of god have mercy

holy

“you see, we told you he wasn’t human” okay Scientific Research Group, you know what?? you win this round I guess

“HE WAS LITERALLY EVIL FROM BIRTH” HORIKOSHI SERIOUSLY ARE YOU OKAY??

HE WAS BORN AN ARROGANT BABY is literally the most terrifying sentence I have ever read

what the entire fuck

it’s a gorgeous sunny mid-November afternoon outside my window. but no matter how hard it tries, the light cannot reach this place

what kind of moron would throw a can of soda at him. officially the stupidest person we have ever seen in this manga

OH MY GOD OF COURSE IT’S HIM LMAO

(ETA: how come baby Yoichi has clothes that fit him perfectly but baby AFO is just stomping around wearing a tablecloth.)

BABY YOICHI. OH MY GOD. HOW THE HELL DID YOU GROW UP TO BE SANE AND KIND AND GOOD. THAT’S MY QUESTION THAT I NEED ANSWERED RIGHT NOW. YOU ARE LITERALLY A MIRACLE. YOU ARE AN IMPOSSIBILITY, DO YOU KNOW THAT

small and weak, but also so, so cute. all of the cuteness genes went straight to him. no wonder AFO was jealous

(ETA: just want to press pause for a second to speculate about what type of twins AFO and Yoichi are, since it has some relevance to the story, and especially to the OFA/AFO quirk lore. so! at first glance the two of them would appear to be fraternal twins, just based on the fact that they have very different appearances, and also the fact that Yoichi doesn’t have the AFO quirk – no holes in his hands, etc. identical twins are born from the same fertilized egg, so in theory they would both have the same sequence of DNA, which means Yoichi would have had the same quirk as AFO. but that doesn’t appear to be the case. so all of that points to them being fraternal, not identical.

on the other hand, there is one piece of evidence in this chapter that does support them being identical twins, and that’s the fact that per the narration, AFO absorbed most of the nutrients from their mother. a few minutes of google fu informed me that this condition is relatively rare, and only happens in cases where two twins share a placenta, which typically is only the case for identical twins. HOWEVER, for what it’s worth, there have also been rare instances where two fraternal twin placentas fuse together and become a single placenta. AND this apparently also increases the chances of one of the twins gaining more of the nutrients and causing the other twin to have a lower birth weight.

so based on the evidence here, my conclusion is that the two of them are most likely fraternal twins with a case of placental fusion. besides, you can’t tell me that stealing his baby brother’s placenta while the two of them are literally still in the womb doesn’t sound like exactly the type of BS that fetus!AFO would pull, lol.)

HEY!?!

okay?!?!?! well to be fair he did throw that soda at him

oh my god this is so fucked up. in like the best and worst way possible

I genuinely couldn’t ask for a better AFO backstory. it’s so incredibly twisted, and you actually do feel sorry for him. or at least I do. but it’s also beyond clear that this kid was FUCKED UP BEYOND ALL REASON right from the get go. zero goodness in him. literally doesn’t see other people as people. sees them as possessions only. things to rule over. not other thinking, feeling human beings. and that includes his own little brother

but. even if it’s not actually what I would call love, there’s still... attachment, there. it’s the closest he can get to actually caring about someone. guh. just, somehow they have both managed to humanize him, and at the same time made him less human than ever. this manga, man. this fucking manga, though

lmao and here we go. Captain Hero

you know, all those times that I made fun of AFO for not knowing how to read, I never suspected that the twist in his backstory would be that he LITERALLY DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO READ dfksjdlfkjslkdf

but seriously though. because Yoichi appears to be self-taught, and I can’t see AFO having the patience for that, and CLEARLY no one else was around to teach him, sooooo...

oh my goodness it’s actually getting wholesome up in here

what a good fucking boy. poor AFO. fuck me, I can’t help it. it’s not your fault you’re the world’s greatest monster you poor bastard

now we’re cutting to THREE YEARS LATER. okay

is he going to declare war on the glowing baby

typical teenager concerned about nothing but likes and view counts. AFO you would be so much happier if you stopped worrying about all of that and just focused on your own growth

oh, lol. well that was quick

(ETA: r.i.p. Damien.)

“this guy had more instagram followers than me. so I killed him” honey. sweetie pie. you need therapy

omfg

all this time I was wondering who AFO’s middle school lit teacher was who had failed so spectacularly at teaching him reading comprehension. and it was YOICHI ALL ALONG. omg

“and, presumably, that’s how it always was and always will be.” dude. can you imagine listening to AFO’s oral book report on A Tale of Two Cities. “ahem. it was the Best of Times. the end” buddy noooooooo

it was at that moment when Yoichi knew, etc. etc.

oh my GOD I scrolled down to the next panel right after this one and I just IMMEDIATELY DIED LAUGHING

“WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID” ffffffffffffffff I fucking can’t omfg

NOW THIS HUSSY IS STEALING HIS BROTHER AWAY FROM HIM NOOOOOOO

HE’S HIS!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!! THAT’S NOT ALLOWED!!!

oh my god the hands. so wait, is this just the standard symbolic BnHA handholding, or are there More Levels To This. when exactly did Yoichi pass OFA on to Kudou. like is that why the sudden close-up and all that? omg

WHAT!!!!

OH THAT’S THE END, HUH? THAT’S THE END RIGHT THERE, AND THAT’S JUST HOW IT IS. I SEE. OKAY THEN. EXCUSE ME WHILE I PUT MY LAPTOP DOWN AND GO INTO THE NEXT ROOM AND SCREAM INTO A PILLOW

oh my god. and break next week too. this is what you guys have been dealing with this entire time huh. I understand your feelings now. godfuckingdammit lmao

[mingiswow]

Lion Heart | Yeosang

Pairing: Prisioner!Yeosang x afab!servant!reader

Genre: Dystopian!Ateez, smut

Word Count: +5.1k (oopsie?)

Content Warning: mentions of poverty, mentions of alcohol and food, brief mentions of canibalism (the poor people pick up the pieces of the dead to have something to eat), mention of animal and human deaths, matriarchy (is that really a warning?), English is not my first language, if I forgot anything lmk

Smut warning: just pure filth omg, reader has a vagina and boobs, oral (reader recieciving), piv, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, fingering, kinda rough sex?, reader has their hands tied, dirty talking, Yeosang call reader servant and baby several times, unprotected sex (don’t be stupid, stds exist), cumshot, slightly cum eating and sharing (I said it was filthy)

a/n: another part of the Halazia series that you guys voted for me to keep writing (with the amazing 88,8% answering yes). Since the first time I saw the mv Yeosang reminded me of a gladiator so I had to make this scenario mixing the idea of gladiators and dystopia. It was really fun to make and I hope you guys enjoy it ^^

The loud cheers from the crowd announced that another one of the prisoners was killed. You winced at the thought of the man’s body torn apart, pieces scattered around the arena for the lion to eat. You always hated those battles, never understanding the need for that. How the world, which was in constant expansion, evolution, and technology evolving to the point of having automatic cars and smart houses, turned into this mess that could only be compared to the ancient times. 

The part of the Earth in which you lived was responsible for the meat, the fields that once were full of life were now dry and full of malnourished animals that only the richest could afford to buy, the other people would have to pick up the pieces of the prisoners to eat, not caring that once that was another human being, the hunger bigger than that. 

“Yn, can you please bring another cup of mead?” The daughter of the state chief, and your mistress, asked while not taking her eyes off the arena in front of her. You nodded and headed to the small makeshift kitchen to grab her drink. 

Not everyone had the luck you had, most people from where you came would be down in the crowd or probably dead like your parents. But destiny was good to you and put you on the same path and the same time and day that your mistress was, saving her from being killed by some of the government objectors. The chief and her husband were so thankful that they gave you a job as her servant and promised to take care of your family when you have one. You were both kids when that happened, so you grew up by her side, accompanying her in every step, even allowing you to study with her. 

It was during one of your study sessions that you learned that in ancient times they used to have something similar to what you had now, panem et circenses, a way of distracting the population from the real problems, keeping them entertained with the battles. It worked back then and it worked now. 

You gave the young woman her drink before going back inside the tent where the chief’s family stood to see the fights. “You really don’t like these, do you?” Her father, a middle-aged short man with a mustache and brows that resembled fluffy caterpillars, asked coming from the other end of the tent, the one where it led to the tunnel that connected the arena to the fort you lived. 

“Violence is not my forte” you replied, handing him a jug of mead. “Never really understood how people could enjoy seeing others being torn apart like rag dolls”

“Me neither, but they seem to enjoy it,” you nodded. “Why don’t you go home?” 

“Oh no, sir, I must wait for mistress and the chief, it’s my duty” 

“Oh don’t worry dear, I can take c-“

“YN! DAD! COME SEE THIS!” You stood by the girl’s side and looked over the arena. “He’s winning the lion”. Down on the sandy ground, you could see a man fighting against the lion, he outsmarted the feline, making it hit its head on the concrete wall several times. You could see the animal was dizzy and probably not seeing its target properly. The fighter grabbed one of the chains that were attached to his body - to make it heavier and harder to run or fight - and threw it at the lion, hitting his sides, the action making the animal roar and try to grab the man, that used the movement as his advantage and jumped on top of the lion’s back and swung another chain around the neck and squeezed tightly. The animal tried to fight but he ended up lying dead on the ground. 

Your mistress raised from her seat and clapped excitedly, joining the screams of the crowd, that cheered the man’s deed. “Bring the man to have dinner with us tonight” the chief said, leaving her chair and going back to the fort, her men following suit, as well as her husband. 

“Don’t you think he was amazing, yn? Killing that lion so cleverly” the girl asked while going back to the fort. “How old do you think he is? He didn’t seem old. Probably my age? Do you think he’d sleep with me?” you chuckled at her words, she was always finding new men to sleep with, her mom’s bodyguard not being enough anymore. “What about you, yn? I’ve never seen you interested in anyone” she looked at you, genuinely curious. You’ve been together forever now, she considered you her best friend, and so could you consider the same. 

“I don’t have time for that, miss Solbin, I have to take care of you” you said, her eyes rolling at your excuses. “Besides, it’s not like I haven’t had my adventures but no one ever caught my attention in that department” you confessed. The chief’s men weren’t your cup of tea, nor you were theirs, which was good to keep your relationship completely professional. And besides them, you barely interacted with anyone else, the ones you did were merely one-night stands.

“So you are open to a relationship?”

“I didn’t say that” she giggled excitedly, as if she was planning something. And knowing Solbin she was.

After safely arriving at the fort and being greeted by the guards, you ran to prepare the woman’s bath for the dinner, grabbing the warm sun water and putting it in the tub, filling it enough for her body to be under the bubbles. Sometimes - most of the times - you thought of how unfair it was for the richest to have warm water, bubble baths, soft pillows, warm clothes, and delicious food, all while more than 90% of the world barely had enough food to survive. All of their riches came from the exploitation of these people. And you, being their employee, enjoyed at least part of it. 

The giggles of the woman shook your thoughts away before leaving the bathroom so she could take her bath alone. When you entered the room she was already missing some pieces of clothing, one of the new guards looking like a lovesick cartoon from the doorframe. “Oh, yn, didn’t see you there” she grabbed the man, pulling him inside.

“I’m leaving now, miss Solbin. The bath is ready, if you need anything else let me know” you said trying to ignore the fact that the man was almost eating her neck. 

“Before I forget, mommy asked you to take some clothes to the prisoner and lead him to the service bathroom” you nodded before leaving, her excited giggles getting trapped behind the giant wooden door.

You walked past the corridor until you arrived at the central hall, where the chief’s husband was helping the employees to arrange everything for the dinner. 

“It’s an important day, no fighter has won the lion for the past twenty years” as if he was reading your mind, the man told you. “Hyebin wants everything perfect” you nodded. “Dear, take those clothes to the man, please. And take him to the service bathroom, it must be empty by now” you nodded again and dismissed yourself, going to the cells under the fort. 

Those cells haven’t been used for centuries, since it was too dangerous to keep the prisoners in the same place as the chief. The fort was an old castle built centuries ago, you always joked that it was when dragons used to exist of how old it was. But it was still some of the most protected and secure places to keep someone like the chief herself and her family. You walked past the only guard that was looking after the prisoner, that, now, wasn’t a prisoner anymore since he won the battle. So why keep him down here? 

As you got closer to his cell, you heard some of the most beautiful songs you’ve ever heard, the voice singing it soft, velvety, deep. The lyrics were about this world that once existed, where animals walked free and people were happy, with no worries in their minds, only spending time with their loved ones while baking delicious food. The closer you got, the clearer you could hear how beautiful the voice was and how it felt like you were laying in a soft bed with hundred of soft blankets wrapping around your body.

“Are you enjoying the show?” you snapped out of the trance when you realized you were already in front of his cell, staring at him while you listened to his beautiful voice. He smirked at you and you felt weak on the knees. You have never seen such a beautiful man in front of you. He had a built physique, not like the guards, but his arms were strong and his shoulders wide, giving him this almost superior look. Even all dirty in mud, sand and dry blood he still looked like the most beautiful creature you’ve laid your eyes on. “Are you the chief’s servant?” he asked, leaving the bed and coming closer to you and you noticed how tall he was. 

“Yes, I mean, I’m her daughter’s servant” you bit your tongue at how stupid you sounded stuttering to him. “I’m here to take you to take a bath and get ready for the dinner.”

“Are you going to help me bathe?” the mischievous grin he held as he walked closer to you was your end, making you wet for no reason. You felt so stupid, he said a couple of words and had a smirk and you were already wet.

“No, sir, I am going to show you the bathroom” you gave him the neatly folded clothes you held. “Here are the clothes the chief gave you to wear” he grabbed the pile, hand caressing yours in the process, smirk still on his lips. “If you’re ready, please follow me” you turned around and started to walk outside the dungeon, him following suit.

You could feel your back burning from his stare and unconsciously you started to sway your hips more, as if you were trying to allure him to do something to you. You felt pathetic really, wanting this unknown man to fuck you senseless until you had nothing in your brain besides that beautiful voice of his. And you couldn’t help but wonder how his moans sounded, making you bite your lower lip at the thought. 

“What's your name, sweetie?” if it was anyone else, you’d cringe at the nickname, but it sounded so good coming from his lips.

“Yn” you answered, finally arriving at the bathroom and opening the door for you two to enter.

“Mine’s Yeosang if you’re interested” he walked past you, leaving the pile of clothes in a dry corner near where the bath was already prepared for him. 

“I’ll leave you be, mister Yeosang, the guards will be waiting outside for you to get ready. Don’t get too long with the bath, the dinner is almost ready and you wouldn’t want to leave Ms. Hyebin and her family waiting” you closed the door behind you and let out a deep sigh.

“He’s that hot?” Yohan, one of the guards, asked you with a playful smile on his lips. 

“Fuck off and do your job” you left the place to go back to the hall, your head spinning in millions different directions. How could someone be this hot and alluring? What was his trick? 

You kept your way to Solbin’s room, hoping she had sent the guard she was fucking back to his job, you didn’t want to see anyone having sex. Not in the bothered state you were. 

For your enjoyment, the man was already gone and the woman was almost ready for the dinner, her beautiful delicate face adorned with a pink blush that gave her even more of a youthful look than she already had. You two had almost the same age, you being two years older than her, yet, you looked more aged than her, probably from work and sun damage. “Oh, you’re there, yn. I thought you wouldn’t come back” she smiled at you through the mirror. “Aren’t you going to bathe? The dinner is almost ready and I bet the man is almost done with his hygiene as well” you nodded. 

“I was just making sure you were on time, miss Solbin” you answered, helping her to put one of her hair pieces. “I was worried you’d be late again” she giggled. 

“Oh you know… these men never take too long” she lifted herself from the chair and went to the full-body mirror, admiring her outfit. “Now go, yn. You don’t want to leave mother waiting” 

“Yes, miss” you left her room and went to yours, which was next door. You sighed as you looked at yourself in the mirror, face wet in sweat, hair disheveled and clothes dirty.

You took your clothes off and threw the dirty pile in a corner, you’d deal with them later, and decide on a quick shower, not wanting to take too long. The cold water hit your warm skin, making the body hair bristle and the pores shiver. You started to hum the same song Yeosang was singing earlier and your mind wandered back to him, to his voice, his smirk, his voice. You kept imagining how he’d look under the bubbly water, his body in all its glory. How his muscles must be hard and defined, his legs just as strong as his arms. Maybe his little friend was as pretty as him. Without even thinking your hand went south, touching your body through the way down before finding its way in between your legs, playing with the folds of your vulva, the tip of your index and middle finger starting to slowly circle your clit. You threw your head back, mouth agape but no sound left, you got used to being quiet so no one would listen to you. You kept your assault on your clit, going faster with each passing second until you reached your orgasm. When you came back to your senses and you realized what you did, you felt dirty, almost disgusting, for masturbating to a man you didn’t even know. 

You quickly came out of the shower, putting on the only clothes you had for occasions like that. You looked yourself over in the mirror, the dress pants hugging your hips and thighs just right, enhancing every curve you had, the matching vest and beige button up shirt looked gorgeous on you, you had to admit that. Even though it was the only outfit you had, it still made you feel pretty confident in your body. You put on your black boots and went to the hall where Solbin and Yeosang were already there, happily talking. The guards and maids watched their interaction in their spot. 

You greeted the fellow staff and got to your position behind Solbin, a few steps back. The woman didn’t even realize you arrived, completely lost in her flirting game with the man in front of her, the two whispering things to each other and talking I. Each others’ ears. In the corner of your eye, you could see the guard she had previously fucked throwing daggers with his eyes at Yeosang. She only acknowledged your presence when the man in front of her smirked looking at you. She turned around and smiled at you. 

“Yn, come sit with us at the table” she motioned her hand for you to join them but you refused. 

“It’s okay, miss Solbin, I’ll stay with the staff”

“Oh come on, yn~” she extended your name, pouting at you. “I thought we were best friends” you chuckled at her, always trying to get you with her cuteness. 

“That doesn’t mean I’m not part of the staff, I’m still your servant” she rolled her eyes and when she was about to debate, her mother and father appeared. 

“Solbin is right, yn, you may be staff but you are almost part of the family” the woman spoke as she walked across the wooden floor, her steps echoing every time the heels met the floor. “Sit with us, I insist” she motioned to the chair next to Yeosang and you bowed, accepting the offer. 

You awkwardly sat by his side, still a little uncomfortable. Not only with the fact that you were having privileges over the other employees, which you always hated but also because you could feel your face heating with the thought that you just masturbated thinking about the man on your side. 

The maids brought over the tray carts filled with food and put the plates in front of you. You knew they had made Ms. Hyebin’s favorite, roast lamb with mint sauce. You noticed how Yeosang’s eyes shined looking at the food and wondered how much he starved.

Everyone waited for the chief to take the first bite before starting to eat as well. 

“So, Yeosang, right? How did you become a prisoner?” The woman asked, eyes never leaving the man. 

“I lost my job as a fisherman and couldn’t buy my sister’s medicine anymore, so when she died I got angry and drunk more than I should have and ended up breaking the pharmacy” he simply said, almost as if didn’t affect him, but you could see his left leg bouncing under the table and instinctively you put your hand on top of it to hold it down. 

“What did she have?”

"Leukemia. The medicine didn’t cure but it retarded the effects” she nodded to him once again. 

“I’m sorry that you had to go through that. I wish we could do more for the population but as you know, the main government doesn’t allow us to do anything without prior approval” it was Yeosang's turn to nod. “I assume I am really privileged to come from the family I came from and have the opportunities I had but not even 10% of the population worldwide have this chance” she sighed looking at her plate, defeated for being part of this system. 

“So… you were a fisherman?” It was her husband’s turn to talk, trying to lift up the mood and change subjects. Which worked. 

The dinner was nice, even the other staff joined after a while. Hyebin, a bit drunk and overwhelmed with her own feelings, invited them to be part of the celebration as well. It was past 2 am when the chief and her husband decided to go to bed, mostly him making her go due to her wasted state. You were the next one to excuse yourself, not wanting to cock-block Yeosang and Solbin, that seemed to get along pretty well. 

You arrived at your room, taking the clothes off and folding them neatly, and storing them away before putting on your nightgown and going to bed. You were almost asleep when you heard a knock on your door. Groaning a little from being interrupted, you left your bed and opened the door, a smirking Yeosang behind it. “Hi, sweetie” his voice a little bit lower and hoarse from the alcohol. 

“Can I help you?” You asked, a bit self conscious with the transparency of your camisole. 

“Yes, you can” he pushed himself inside your room and closed the door behind him. “You see, there’s this servant that I can’t stop thinking about, the way their hands were warm holding my leg still under the table” he started to take steps towards you, and you took steps back until the back of your knees hit your bed, making you fall sitting on it. He stopped in front of you and got on his knees. And you couldn’t deny that that was one of the hottest images you’ve seen. “The way the curve of their breasts kept getting my eye and all I thought was that I wanted to put my face between them while fucking them in front of everyone” you gulped at his words. The man grabbed one of your hands and put on top of his pants, you could feel his member hard under the fabric. “Can you help me with my problem?” You looked over his dark eyes and nodded, breath getting stuck in your throat when he pulled you closer to him by your waist and attacked your lips. 

And dear god you don’t even remember the last time you kissed someone so good. His lips were rough on you, moving with hunger, kissing you like your lives depended on it. His hands were everywhere, all over your body, giving special attention to your thighs that were right in front of him. You never felt so turned on by something, by someone, you didn’t know if it was his body, his voice, his smile, how his throat would do low rumbles every time he’d lower his kisses to your throat and collarbones. He stopped his ministrations so he could take off your nightgown, revealing your uncovered breasts and the thin material of your underwear, which he could see that it had a damp spot on it. His lips were instantly on one of your breasts, sucking the hardened nipple and soft flesh, all while his hand played with the other, pinching the soft bud in between his fingers, earning a soft moan coming from your mouth.

“Yeosang…” you mewled under his ministrations, aching more. “Please, I need more” he chuckled at your neediness but deep inside he was just like you. So his lips left your tit, to go down to your core, hands expertly taking your underwear off, the fabric sticking to your wetness. Yeosang didn’t waisted his time, mouth going straight to your cunt, licking a stripe from bottom to top so he could taste you.

“God, you taste so good, yn” he kept licking your slit, gathering all the taste he could, growls leaving from his throat. You were merciless, really, mind already empty, not a single thought just the way he was eating you out, making your hole pulse against nothing. 

His mouth attacked your clit, sucking the bud and making you moan louder than you expected. The long period without having sex made you more sensitive to anything he’d do to your body. You kept moaning as he kept sucking on your clit, your right hand holding his locks and keeping him close to your pussy, not that he planned on leaving soon. His assault on your engorged bud now getting rougher, the tip of his tongue dancing against it, going in circles. 

When you were getting closer to your orgasm, he stopped what he was doing, edging you and making you squirm on top of the bed, whining and pleading him for your release. “Impatient, aren’t we?” he chuckled at you before getting on his feet and grabbing your camisole. “I want you to be a good servant for me, okay?” you nodded, eyes watery from having your orgasm taken away. He manhandled your body with ease on top of the bed, making you lay right in the middle, head on your pillows. He grabbed both your hands and put them on top of your head, using your camisole to tie your wrists against the metal frame of the bed. “Are you gonna be a good servant for me and let me use you?” you nodded, almost cumming from the way he looked at you, from how merciless you were once again, you could be in danger, he could do anything he wanted to you, yet the situation only excited you more. “I want words, baby”

“Yes, use me, Yeosang. Please” you squirmed your hips, knots on your wrist tightening as you pulled them.

“So good for me, baby” he licked your lips. “I gonna use you and make both of us feel good, ‘k?” you nodded again, yesses leaving your mouth like a vice.

Before you could even register, he took off all of his clothes, discarding them on the floor, his dick finally free from the pants and your mouth watered at the sight, the tip already leaking pre cum and angry red, his shaft completely hard, tilting slightly upwards. He smirked at your reaction, getting between your legs again, but still not giving what you wanted, he inserted two fingers inside you, a loud and elongated moan leaving your lips at the sudden yet delicious intrusion. Yeosang didn’t give you time to adjust to his fingers or anything and started to pump his digits inside and out of you, disappearing completely inside of you before coming out and repeating the process at an excruciating speed yet so delicious. He added his thumb on your clit, now both of his hands working fast on you, orgasm approaching each second it passed and he could feel by the way your walls started to grip his fingers.

With a few more circles on your clit you came undone for the first time, exploding into his hands, lewd sounds coming from down under where your wetness increased even more. The man didn’t stop his ministrations, using your orgasm to enter a third finger easily, now his mouth going down to suck and lick your clit once in a while, overstimulation making your legs shake. 

“Go on, give me another one” he said, face millimeters away from your pussy, his hot breath fanning over your sensitive nub. He increased speed on your hole even more, your walls eating his three fingers as his thumb rubbed circles again on your clit. Before you could even register what was happening, vision going black and mind going blank you came again, your juices squirting all over him as you moaned so loud from the feeling. “Gosh you’re so hot, yn. I didn’t know you could do that” he licked your folds, cleaning a bit of the mess before licking his fingers and whipping the salty liquid from his face.

“Neither… Neither did I” you confessed, it was indeed your first time coming like that, and if you weren’t so fucked out already, you’d be proud of yourself. You locked your legs around his legs, moaning as a way to say you wanted his cock. He chuckled at your state, already completely gone.

“Are you sure you can take my dick, babe? Don’t you wanna rest a little?” you denied with your head.

“Fuck me, please, I need it so bad” you pleaded, hips squirming.

“Just because you were such a good little servant for me and let me use you” you nodded and hissed at the feeling of the tip of his dick touching your abused hole. “God, you’re such a slut, huh? Can’t be one second without being stuffed” you nodded desperately, begging him to fill you up, not a care in the world, not a single thought on your head besides Yeosang fucking you.

Before he entered you, he untied your wrists, letting your weak wobbly arms free to touch him. Finally. And then with a sharp and precise thrust, he entered you, filling you up to the brim, the tip of his long dick touching just the right spot. “Fuck, babe, your walls hug me so well. So warm” he started to move, taking almost all of his member out before slamming back in, a guttural moan leaving your lips each time, his speed increasing with each movement. Your arms finally regained some strength and you circled around his neck, pushing your chests together, your lips going to the junction of his neck and shoulder, leaving bites on the sun-kissed skin, and earning growls and moans from him as well.

You could feel his high approaching because his movements started to become more erratic, the pace slowing. “Cum for me Yeosang, I can feel you getting close. Don’t you?” he moaned at your sweet fucked out voice in his ear. You pressed your fingernails on his back, the pain making him even closer. 

“I want you to cum first” he managed to say. His right hand sneaking between your bodies and started to draw circles on your clit. 

You didn’t know who was more fucked out, you or him, but either way, he managed to make you cum around him once again, body leaving his and going limp against the bed, eyes closed and arms spread out as he kept riding your orgasm before he reached his, taking his member off of you and cumming all over your belly and chest, some of his load falling right on top of your nipple and he couldn’t hold himself, licking his own cum out of your still hardened nub, his salty taste being welcomed in his tongue.

You pulled his face and kissed him, his cum falling to your mouth as you hummed at the feeling and taste. The filthy act almost feeling like a bonding moment between you two.

You let your drowsiness get the best of you and fell asleep, all sweaty and covered and cum.

When you woke up, already the next morning, the sun rays leaking through a few holes in the curtain and birds chirping happily outside, you were already cleaned up, camisole back on your body, and no sight of Yeosang whatsoever. You moved, body still aching from the night before, a smile growing on your lips as flashes from the sex started to replay in your brain. 

Just as you were about to take a shower you found a piece of paper with messy handwriting and a tiny doodle in the corner.

“Sorry I couldn’t stay the night with you, baby, I had to go back to get my freedom. If you want to repeat the dose you can find me at the hostel next to the sea. I’ll be waiting. Ps.: I took a little souvenir from you with me. I hope you don’t mind ;) Yeosang”

You just then realized you were not wearing any underwear. That little pervert. Still, you smiled stupidly, thinking about looking for him as soon as your body recovered.

“I can see the night was enjoyable” you looked over the door, a smirking Solbin leaned against the frame, arms crossed on top of his chest as if she was scolding you.

“Was I too loud?” you asked and she just entered the room, closing the door behind her and sitting by your side on the bed.

“These rooms are soundproof, darling, you're safe. We actually saw him leave this noon” she smiled and held your hands. “Now tell me everything. I want to know” she giggled like an excited little girl getting a new toy.

“It was mindblowingly great” she squealed and you smiled, starting to tell her about your night.

Send a request or any feedback really | Masterlist

[paisholotus]

Chapter one

"Doctor Von Doom?"

Reed Richards and Ben Grimm head toward the soaring glass-box atrium of VDI Headquarters. "Designed to inspire awe, it does. High open space, exposed structural elements. Obviously aimed at first-time visitors to create feelings of... smallness, inadequacy." Reed said, smiling lowly, looking around.

Ben glances at Reed, who looks a little nervous. "Good thing it ain't workin... Reed, what are we doing here? This guy's fast-food, strip-mall science --" Ben said, glaring at Reed, but he is cut off with a look. "This wasn't our first stop, in case you forgot NASA. And Victor's not that bad. He's just a little..." he trailed off, seeing the statue of Victor Larger than life. "Yeah." They move past the statue, into the sprawling atrium. "He's financed some of the biggest break throughs of this century. Ben You'd never know it. He motions to a high-tech ORB, showing FOOTAGE of VDI's accomplishments: a safe and clean nuclear facility, the first private Space Station. All images have Victor front and center, glad-handling George Bush, Tony Blair, shady International Leaders." Reed said, vouching for Victor.

They head for the elevator. Reed carries a small, black box. As they enter the elevator, steel doors shut. A large, dark office. Ben in the corner. He yawns, watches bright holograms.Stars and Planets, They hover in the air, making the room feel like a majestic portal into outer space.

"My research suggests that exposure to a high-energy cosmic storm born on solar winds might have triggered the evolution of early planetary life." Reed stands among the holograms, speaking to a mysterious figure in shadow behind a desk. An ominous, pulsating red cloud covers the stars. It washes over a hologram of earth.

"In six weeks another cloud with the same elemental profile will pass Earth's orbit. A study in space could advance our knowledge about the structure of the human genome, and help cure countless diseases, extend human life --" The shadow clears his throat. Reed speeds up, emotional. "Give kids the chance to be stronger, healthier, less prone to --" Reed is cut off once more, "Turn it off. Please." The figure's deep voice pierces the darkness.

"But I haven't fully explained my --" Reed said, frowning at the shadow. "Yes you have... Imagination. Creativity. Passion. Those were always your trademarks." The deep voice said. Lights brighten, revealing the face behind the Victor Von Doom. A 35 year old, handsome and commanding. He looks almost... airbrushed. He drops a WIRED magazine to the desk.

Reed is on the cover over the words: RICHARDS BANKRUPT, GRANT CUTBACKS. "But dreams don't pay the bills, do they?" Victor said, with a condescending smile. "Same old Reed, the hopeless optimist. Still reaching for the stars, with the world on your back." He sauntered towards him.

"Reed you remember in school we talked about working together. That's what I was about to explain..." Victor trails off. Reed presses the remote. Another hologram appears: A SHUTTLE slowly approaching AN ORBITING SPACE STATION. Both bear the VON DOOM INDUSTRIES logo.

Victor smiles, more intrigued. "So, it's not my money you want. It's my toys... tell me if NASA doesn't trust you, why should I?" Victor is a step ahead. Reed pauses, thrown for a beat. Ben wakes up, suspicious. Victor notices. He notices everything. "I can't take this." Reed said, low and quiet. "This is business. Just work. I don't expect someone like you to understand." Victor cracks a smile, enjoying the tension.

"And... Sue, Saraya. Good to see you both" Victor said, looking at Saraya, but mostly eyeing Sue. "Happy my Directors of Genetic Research, Susan Storm and Saraya Macallnster." Victor said smirking. "Heya Susie. Raya" Ben said, under his breath, smiling.

"See, you all around. Sue, my office please." Victor said, walking out. Sue huffed and smiled apologetically, walking behind Victor.

[hellzyeahwebwielingessays]

@poke-maniac

I am making this post because it was too frustrating replying in the comments section of the original post.

“ I said that money was a mean to make his company more successful as he himself admits, not just for power's sake.”

Yes, but I wonder what making his company more successful would do to the amount of power he wields. Could it be that it would generate MORE power for him??????????????

“Which is more or less confirmed in sinister war, but since you ignore everything that happens after post OMD as if nothing was canon anymore, I guess you don't see it as a valid argument.”

It’s more than just that I discount it for being post-OMD. From what you have described of Sinister War I do not see how this goes against anything I have said. Norman wanted to money to make his company more successful. But in doing this he makes himself more powerful.

The priority is ALWAYS power. In fact, few people who are rich assholes as you put it are in it for the sake of money alone, but predominantly for the POWER that money grants them.

But even if we argue that there those who really are JUST in it for the money, Norman isn’t one of them as he literally told us that in ASM #40:

Oh look, Norman EXPLICTELY saying that he needed to become wealthy because that was the only way he could become POWERFUL!

“We shouldn't apply real life psychology to fictional people,”

This is, simply put, one of the most astronomically bad takes I have ever had the misfortune of reading.

There is so much to unpack with this, but let’s just get down to the basics. If we aren’t going to apply real life psychology to fictional people what the fuck does the term ‘believable character’ even mean. How are they believable if not in terms of who they are, what they think, what they feel, how they act is psychologically realistic. Because that is what psychology boils down to ‘what is happening inside of a human being to make them behave the way they behave’.

Second of all, there is a GIGANTIC overlap between the mental muscles and psychologists and good writers flex for the very obvious reason that both jobs entail getting inside people’s heads. Its just that for writers those people happen to be fictional.

The proof in the pudding of this is Carl Jung, perhaps the second most famous psychologist behind Freud himself, and indeed was at a time viewed by Freud as his heir in the field of psychology. Jung’s works are massive and complicated to explain but one of the things he often brought up was the connection between psychology and  mythology/fairy tales/folklore.

“Like Freud, the psychologist Carl Jung also took myths seriously. Jung believed that myths and dreams were expressions of the collective unconscious, in that they express core ideas that are part of the human species as a whole. In other words, myths express wisdom that has been encoded in all humans, perhaps by means of evolution or through some spiritual process. For Jungians, this common origin in the collective unconscious explains why myths from societies at the opposite ends of the earth can be strikingly similar. ”-

This school of thought is eventually what led literature professor Joseph Campbell to study myths from various cultures and write his landmark book ‘The Hero with a Thousand Faces’. Here is a wikipedia excerpt about the book:

“The book includes a discussion of "the hero's journey" by using the Freudian concepts popular in the 1940s and 1950s. Campbell's theory incorporates a mixture of Jungian archetypes, unconscious forces, and Arnold van Gennep's structuring of rites of passage rituals to provide some illumination.[4] ”-

So psychology and storytelling are inherently intertwined and ALWAYS have been.

Third of all, there is no end of examples of critically acclaimed works of fiction that DO apply real life psychology to fictional people. Breaking Bad is one seasons long epic exploring the realistic psychological change of Walter White into a drug kingpin.

The Sopranos stemmed from creator David Chase’s psychological struggles with his mother and the therapy he went through to try and deal with it. Not only was it applying psychological realism to these fictional gangsters (and their families) but it went so far as to have a psychologist as a main character and make her sessions with Tony Soprano integral to the plot/character exploration of Tony himself.

And, just in case you were trying to say ‘fictional comic book people’, Batman’s villains are regarded as the best villains in mainstream comic book history in large part because because of their psychological complexities. There is literally a podcast hosted by a real life psychologist where they review and apply psychological realism to every episode of Batman the Animated Series:

The fact that she was able to do that at all speaks to how clearly the writers WERE applying real life psychology when writing Batman the Animated Series, the most transparent example being ‘Mad Love’, the origin of Harley Quinn. not only was Harley a psychologist herself, but her origin story stemmed directly fro co-creator Paul Dini's experiences with therapy and includes one of your so called 'Freuduan excuses' for why Harley is the way she is:

"Paul Dini: I’m no stranger to therapy. I was spending some time in therapy and was in my head a lot around that time. Bruce and I were discussing her origin one day over lunch, because I had been approached by DC to do a special issue of the comic, and we were talking about what if there was some sort of surprise to her origin? What if she’s not just a hench girl? We came up with the idea that she had been a doctor at Arkham Asylum and the Joker had gotten into her head and worked her into being his follower. … Then we thought, what if Harley’s in the role of the long-suffering girlfriend?

There was also an element of the fans who write to a prisoner who committed a terrible crime and say, “I understand you… I see the good in you,” and sometimes develop a relationship."

Bill Mantlo literally name dropped a psychological term during one of his 1980s Spider-Man stories. They got the term wrong, but the desire to use it at all when it wasn’t necessary ever so slightly hints that comic book writers frequently DO try to apply psychological realism to these fictional people.

Iconic Iron Man writer/prolific Spider-Man writer/co-creator of Venom and Carnage David Michelinie featured a psychologist character in at least two of his Spider-Man stories and used his insights as a way for Spider-Man to defeat both Doc Ock and Venom.

Bruce Banner/the Hulk is a character who hinges upon psychological realism. The entire premise of the character is that he has disassociative identity disorder and that the famous green savage Hulk everyone knows is an expression of his traumatised inner child throwing a gamma fuelled temper tantrum.

Peter David, who has written MANY Spider-Man stories including the iconic ‘Death of Jean DeWolff’, literally wrote an issue that took place inside Bruce Banner’s mind and where his fragmented identity (Bruce banner, Green Hulk, Grey Hulk) is made whole; an issue outright called 'Honey I Shrunk the Hulk' (as in head shrink).

(Oh look, an abusive father who hit Bruce. Guess the Hulk's origin doesn't make sense and is shit now too).

PAD’s Hulk yarn wasn’t the only Marvel story in the 1990s that literally dives into the head of a fictional person (i.e. the most blatant example of trying to apply psychological realism to them). There was also two stories that did exactly that with symbiotic serial killer Carnage:

One of those characters was Dr Ashley Kafka, a psychologist supporting character introduced for Spider-Man stories.

Hmmm…why would Spider-Man comics introduce a psychologist as a supporting character? Well, there could be various uses for a character like that but perhaps one of them might be to offer realistic psychological insights into these fictional people. Fictional people like Venom.

Or Vermin.

Or the Chameleon.

Hey, who created Ashley Kafka anyway?

It was prolific comic book writer J.M. DeMatteis. I wonder why he was so prolific, I mean what sort of stories has he done over at DC?

Oh…a story that acts as a psychological exploration of the Joker and his relationship to Batman. Fun fact, this story was originally rejects by DC because it was too similar to the Killing Joke…because it was also a psychological exploration of the Joker and his relationship to Batman.

Over at Marvel though, other than creating Ashley Kafka, what did J.M. DeMatteis write?

Oh, that’s right….

And...

And...

And...

He wrote many of the stories we’ve been talking about this whole time. He was the guy who retconned the origin of Norman and Harry Osborn and explored Norman’s childhood in the first place.

Now it is a sad reality that there isn’t a single direct quote from DeMatteis proving he did in fact try to apply psychological realism when writing fictional people…

"We write about the things that obsess us. The themes in a writer’s work are the themes of a writer’s life. The Big Theme that has always obsessed me is the search for meaning, for personal, and cosmic, identity. Who are we? Why are we here? What’s the meaning of it all? Exploring those ideas, from both a psychological and spiritual perspective, is the driving force behind many of my stories, whether they’re more personal projects like Moonshadow or more popular ones like Spider-Man."

"I enjoy reading books about psychology and spirituality, books that explore the shadowed caverns of our psyches and the luminous castles of our souls."  

"All the clever plotting in the world won’t help if it’s not grounded in psychologically real, relatable, characters."

"Peter Parker is one of the most psychologically and emotionally real characters in the history of comics"

"Harry and Peter are both very complex people, which meant that while the superhero action played out there was lots of room for psychological and emotional exploration."

…there are MULTIPLE direct quotes proving exactly that.

So YES we categorically should apply real life psychology to fictional people!

“ especially that nothing suggests in canon that his [Norman Osborn’s] dad was beating him to "feel powe[rful]”

I’ve said before and I will say it again, that is EXACTLY what is suggested by Spec Annual 1994 and Revenge of the Green Goblin.

Norman's Dad loses the business and lashes at his son but this had NOTHING to do with him feeling powerless?

What do you think it means when someone feels powerless?

What do you think it means when someone of the old school tries to reaffirm that they are still 'a man'?

It is about power!

“All that's textually said is that he was lashing out on his family, in rage like many people irl when they lose everything.”

Yes but why would someone IRL lash out when they lose everything.

*gasp!*

You don’t possibly think they do that because losing everything makes them feel powerless and bullying someone else in turn makes them feel powerful, do you????????????? Feeling powerful couldn’t possibly be the root cause of why anyone bullies anyone else ever could it????????????????????????????????????????

Its almost like in textually saying he was lashing out because he lost everything it made him feel powerful or something?

Oh and by the way, ever so slightly undermined your own argument there. “We shouldn't apply real life psychology to fictional people,” vs. “…was lashing out on his family, in rage like many people irl when they lose everything.”

Which is it?

(not to mention if we aren’t supposed to apply real life psychology to fictional people why were you doing exactly that with your avatar examples?)

“Yeah the amnesia part never made any sense to begin with. It's said that the formula made him worse yet it doesn't seem to affect "amnesic" Norman all that much.  Maybe it does? Because we don't see him all that much during his amnesia periods.”

We see PLENTY of Norman when he has amnesia.

So no the formula does not affect norman when he has amnesia.

But an idea slightly suggested in ASM #40 and then eventually confirmed in Revenge of the Green goblin was that the formula made norman worse because in giving him powers it acted as proof he was superior to everyone else, in other words it sent him on a huge ego trip.

You know what would be interesting? If this Norman Osborn guy who is on a big ego/power trip formed a rivalry with a superhero who began his career on a big ego trip before being humbled. Especially if that hero’s defining philosophy was ‘with great power there must also come great responsibility…

“It honestly looks like a cheap excuse to keep him from telling the truth more than anything”

And as originally written by Stan, it was exactly that. It was taboo for a villain to know the hero’s identity back in the 1960s, or at least for them to go on living with that knowledge. Later stories however addressed this.

“But anyway, it just makes weird that his amnesia would make him a completely different guy if he was the same ashole during this specific time period he remembers (before Harry high school years).”

You haven’t been listening to me at all. You have never once addressed what I have said on this subject.

But I will repeat it again:

WE ARE THE PRODUCT OF OUR MEMORIES! IF YOU CHANGE THE MEMORIES YOU CHANGE THE PERSON!

You want a quick fictional example of this? The Arnie movie Total Recall.

In other words, the ONLY logical explanation for Norman becoming nice is because he DIDN’T just forget his memories after he became the Goblin. He forgot MORE than just that. Which is what happens with real life amnesia. You don’t just forget a set time period.

Yes the narrative has Spider-Man claim it is just everything after the accident that turned him into the Goblin, but how the fuck does Spider-Man know that for sure?

What we have is an objective flashback showing us exactly what Norman was like before the accident, we have objective on the page evidence of what he was like after the accident and we have objective on the page evidence of what he was like post amnesia. Post-accident is basically a bigger jerk of who he was pre-accident. Post-amensia is at odds with both versions.

The ONLY explanation that makes sense is that he didn’t simply forget the last few years, he forgot more than that. he forgot whatever life experiences shaped him into a bad person, or at least he couldn’t remember them clearly. Perhaps he could remember events but not the feelings associated with them.

This syncs up with how IRL amnesia works and reconciles everything, whether you look at the stories in the 1960s on their own or look beyond that decade.

“One could argue that he gradually became more and more neglectful. If Harry is just in denial as he can't see faults in his dad's parenting why did he spot a difference then? If his dad was acting the same as he always did, why would he be only in denial over how his dad acted prior to accident?”

Yeah MAYBE he did become more and more neglectful, but there is nothing on page suggesting that. We just know he WAS neglectful.

But alright, the idea that from Harry’s POV there was a time when things were better but got way worse before the accident, that could fit with the original story.

You know what else could fit just as well? That Harry is in denial. Because he wants/needs to believe at some point he and his Dad had a positive relationship when they actually never did.

Denial doesn’t work on the basis that it is 100% consistent all of the time. Norman was MUCH worse after the accident and Harry was also older and less impressionable and that change occurred within the last few years of his life circa ASM #39. All those factors combined make it entirely possible that he found it harder to deny that his Dad had changed. He’d gone from neglecting him and palming him off to almost entirely isolating himself and become more outspokenly verbally abusive and belittling.

Both were bad situations, but one was much worse.

Oh and be careful, because you almost sound like you are trying to apply real life psychology to counter my points. I thought we weren’t supposed to do that with fictional people?

“Why only complain about his dad's recent outbursts? It's clear that his dad is acting differently towards him. They had some good time together (despite his dad's obssesion over work) before the accident then his behavior towards Harry changed.”

No they didn’t. That’s the point of the story. They DIDN’T have good times together, but by the end of ASM #40 they now hopefully can have good times together.

The ASM #40 flashbacks are the deal breaker on all this. These aren’t simply flashbacks from Norman or Harry’s POV, these are from the omniscient POV as what they are depicting is not in line with what Norman is claiming. And they are not in line with what Harry was claiming in ASm #39 either.

Harry was NOT having a good time ever in those flashbacks and Norman was NOT being a good father.

Thing simply got WORSE after the accident.

Why is it so hard for you to buy into the idea that Harry is in denial?

Your approach is ‘Harry made this claim in a piece of dialogue therefore it MUST be completely true’. Even though the very next issue disproves it. Norman even says ‘I tried to be a pal to Harry’, he uses that exact word ‘pal’. And we see from those flashbacks that, no, he was not being a pal to Harry. He was being a shitty father. He was neglecting him, not talking to him, not engaging him or spending time with him.

So Norman is in denial and that was the point of the scene. BUT Harry, who has his DNA, couldn’t POSSIBLY be in denial also? There simply MUST be these magical phantom scenes we coincidentally never got to see where in fact they were BFFs?

Why is that more believable than ‘both father and son are mentally messed up’.

“Also bad person =/= bad father.”

That lacks nuance. You can be a good parent but in other ways a bad person, that is true.

But if you are a bad parent (specifically abusive, neglectful, putting yourself ahead of your child) you are as a matter of fact a bad person. There is nothing more important than raising a child.

“I'm just arguing about his parenting, not his morality,”

In this situation they are one and the same thing.

The things that make Norman a bad person are in turn what led to him being a bad father. He doesn’t have the ability to be a good father because he is a bad person.

During the Stan run, Norman pre-accident was also a bad parent and a bad person but to a lesser degree. That’s all there is to it. he railroaded his partner. He stole his innovations. He was after money and power. He neglected his son and priotised his pursuit of power ahead of his son’s wellbeing.

That is a BAD person, it just isn’t a total fucking monster which is what the retcons developed him into.

“we don't see much of him during his amnesia period to conclude that he was an all around a good person, just that he was a better dad.”

*pinches bridge of nose*

During his amnesia period (and excluding the period where he was in the process of remembering he was the Goblin) was Norman neglecting his son? No. Was he railroading his business partners? No. Was he stealing their inventions? No.

Oh, he WASN’T doing the things we saw him doing in the pre-flashbacks. But you know what he WAS doing? Being nice to his son. Spending time with his son. Making his son happy.

Hmmmm…its almost as if the things ASM #40 showed us about how pre-accident Norman was a bad person were either absent or directly the opposite with amnesiac Norman.

“But yeah, you're right, this amnesia plot device makes no sense no matter how you look at it but to me it looks like the implications is that his personality was reset before his accident. But to each their own, I guess .”

A story can imply one thing but show another or contradict itself. What is actually happening is more important than implications.

“I agree that Norman abusive background explains why he treats Harry so horribly as it was textually explained, as well as why he's so comfortable with his own darkness, his toxic masculinity but it doesn't explain as well why he became so obsessed with restoring his family's name, wealth, having social power.”

BECAUSE HIS DAD LOST THAT!

Do I actually need to explain that children are heavily influenced by their parents? That they subconsciously look to their parents as role models, that they seek their approval, that how their parents treats them shapes who they grow up to be?

If Norman’s Dad LOST the family’s prestige and was obviously upset about it and that in turn led to him hurting Norman OF COURSE Norman would want to restore it. He would have learned that prestige was important.  Thus in restoring on some subcionsious level he’d:

Be making his father proud

Proving himself BETTER than the man who was his physical superior

Avoiding becoming like his father who he saw broken down and rendered weak by losing the company

Making himself powerful and therefore not weak, not like his father who was rendered weak/the helpless weak little boy his father bullied

“It's not about real life psychology, it's all about WRITING.”

THOSE AMOUNT TO THE SAME THING!

You can’t BE a good character writing without applying real life psychology! Because to be a good character writer you NEED to make your characters psychologically convincing, otherwise nobody would buy into them.

See above when I disproved your bullshit about not applying psychology to fiction.

You don’t NEED to have a psychology degree to write good characters but you do NEED to be able to get inside a fictional person’s head and render them as believable. And that would entail making them psychologically realistic.

William Shakespeare never studied psychology. He literally couldn’t have. But he was nevertheless able to write psychologically convincing characters that we CAN successfully apply real life psychology to.

Because writers and psychologists have this gigantic overlap in their respective fields, namely, getting inside people’s heads!

“Writing a proper Freudian excuse that doesn't require ton of meta analysis, real life psychology, conjecture.”

THERE IS NO CONJECTURE! The narrative SPELLS this all out explictely!

“And I'm not denying that it might be one of the factors, but it unlike his abuse of his own son, it's not used explain why he became so fixated on restoring his family's name,”

If Norman’s Dad abused him because the family business was fucked there would obviously be an inherent link between restoring the family business and the abuse he suffered.

This isn’t a Freudian excuse, it is basic bitch literary analysis. High schoolers could grasp this.

Norman didn’t want to be weak as he was when his dad hurt him. Norman didn’t want to be weak as his father was upon losing the business. His dad hurt him because he was upset about losing the business.

Therefore, in hitting Norman, in abusing him, it acted as a powerful motivator later in life to restore the family business.

It. Is. All. There.

“obtaining social power (not just physical) expanding the Osborn legacy”

You need to understand this, not just for the sake of this argument nor for your future reading of fiction, but just plain old navigating through life itself.

Power is power.

If you are made to feel physically powerless you 100% could go on to seek social power.

If a boss makes someone feel powerless at work they could leave work and make themselves feel sexually powerful by having sex with a hooker who they ask to call them ‘boss’ in the bedroom.

If your business is failing and your money is running out so you feel financially powerless and are losing social power there is a strong possibility that you’d hit your own child to feel powerful! Just as Norman’s Dad did.

You keep belligerently REJECTING the idea that there can be a link between social power and physical power but that is the truth of the matter. Not only have I known this for years through, you know, common sense, not only have I read up about this, but just to make 100% certain I am not wrong on this I asked someone I know personally who is a professional psychologist. She confirmed exactly what I’ve been saying.

Norman’s situation is entirely realistic. Which again, is no surprise, since it was written by a DeMatteis who was heavily into psychology and was himself friends with a professional psychologist who he based Ashley Kafka upon.

Oh, but I forgot, we don’t apply IRL psychology to fictional people right? But…if we aren’t doing that…why are YOU insisting that there can be no link between social and physical power??????????????????????????

And furthermore, expanding the Osborn legacy? Yeah, powerful people have wanted to insure they have a legacy to live on after they die since time began. That hasn’t even got anything to do with abuse or psychology. That is just how most animals are wired. We want our offspring to survive us and thrive. For Norman that meant his son and company would be strong

“, why he's a psychopath who loves killing people when we he doesn't get any benefit from it (like this guard's wife) .”

*groans*

He likes killing people because it is an exercise of his power. He is a power addict. He wants more and more power and wants to use it. No one takes power and DOESN’T use it.

Killing people makes him feel powerful.

He wants to feel that way because as a child he was made to feel powerless and saw his dad lose his power.

It is as simple as that.

And you seem to be ASKING for a psychological explanation there? I thought we don’t apply that to fictional people?

Why are you asking why someone is a PSYCHOpath but reject the PSYCHOlogical explanations I’ve been providing for it?

“It doesn't automatically explain IT ALL.”

It literally does. You are just being blind to that reality.

“It's not expanded on.”

There were 3 stories exploring it across nearly 10 years.

That expands upon it pretty well.

“It's not used to explain HOW it shaped his view on power, how it shaped his ruthless and psychopathic, personality (well unless you claim it's unborn ).”

I’m so exhausted at this point. It HAS been used to explain it. It explained it blindingly obviously. I have repeated it multiple times in this post let alone all the other ones I have made during this argument.

I have to ask now if you are trolling or if you are honestly just this blind?

And, again….asking for HOW something shaped someone’s view on power, HOW it shaped their personality? Gosh…that sounds like you are asking for a psychological  explanation…but one where we cannot apply real life psychology apparently.

“I just wished that this backstory was more expanded on to show HOW it shaped him”

You literally admitted you haven’t read all the stories I mentioned so how can you possibly complain about all that.

You are complaining that something wasn’t explained when

It was explained IN Revenge of the Green Goblin

RotGG itself was an expansion of Spec Annual 1994, which you said you hadn’t read

“Like, there's so much things going on with him and the authors did the minimum they could,”

They wrote THREE stories exploring Norman and Harry’s childhoods and how those shaped them!

Roger Stern.

J.M. DeMatteis.

Paul Jenkins

Howard Mackie.

FOUR people between 1993-2000 wrote THREE different stories exploring this subject and this is the ‘minimum they could’?

Fucking Hell, what more do you want?

“as if we as readers are automatically supposed to connect all dots just from the knowledge alone that his dad beat him up and that it made him feel weak, so viewed toxic masculinity as "strength" and that it made him accept his own darkness.”

The. Story. Literally. Spells. This. Out!

Go. Read. The. Above. Pages!

But also, I, as a TEN YEAR OLD, understood this from Revenge of the Green Goblin alone. I didn’t even need the Child Within or Spec Annual 1994 to GET it!

It was REALLY obvious.

I’m not saying it should have been subtle…but also it was absolutely NEVER subtle.

To say readers are supposed to automatically connect the dots is saying ‘I have REALLY limited reading comprehension skills and need to be spoon-fed info.’

“Just how are we supposed to expand it to explain his psychopathy, his obsession with restoring his family's legacy which is primary motivation for most of what he does that's not connected to Peter (like the Gathering of five).”

See above. I’ve explained how it is all connected. Better yet read the stories. Though I doubt in this case it will make much difference.

“ This is made even more confusing with Sinister war”

A post-OMD story making things confusing? The shock I have. Its almost as if there was a reason I cut off with 2007

“Not to mention, that most of his much more prevalent roles happen post OMD compared to pre OMD which you entirely reject.”

No they don’t.

His most prevalent roles are his roles as a Spider-Man villain. Most of his appearances as a Spider-Man villain are PRE-OMD to my knowledge.

“Is his backstory still supposed to explain why he acts the way he does post OMD even though you said it made him a different character,”

It is irrelevant to this argument because I was never talking from a post-OMD POV to begin with.

But frankly, if post-OMD Spider-Man was well written (which it isn’t) yes his backstory SHOULD explain whatever he does. Or, more accurately, whatever he does should be written to be consistent with his established backstory in the first place.

The major reason I reject post-OMD is precisely because whether it is Norman, Harry, Venom, Doc Ock, Black Cat, J. Jonah Jameson, Aunt May, Mary Jane or Peter Parker himself, the stories are rarely consistent with their pre-OMD characterisations, whether that’s their backstories or simply older stories they appeared in. Peter doesn’t act like Peter. Mary Jane doesn’t act like Mary Jane. Harry doesn’t act like Harry. And Norman doesn’t act like Norman.

Peter wouldn’t become a paparazzi photographer.

Mary Jane would never break up with him because aunt anna’s life was endangered.

Jameson would never accept Peter upon learning he is Spider-Man.

Black Cat would never want Peter to be her fuck buddy and nothing more.

Doc Ock would never try to rape mary jane.

Harry would never be blasé about not remembering his own son Normie.

Aunt may would never blame peter for abandoning her the night uncle ben died.

These are merely one example for the above characters but you get my point.

If the characters aren’t behaving the way they should be in the context of the situation they functionally are not the characters anymore. And since the characters are the entire point of why we read Spider-Man in the first place, why the fuck should you, me, or anyone factor them into our analysis of those characters? Especially since, last I checked, OMD established that we are literally in a different timeline altogether, one where Peter and MJ never got married, where MJ was never pregnant but somehow, magically, despite this making 0 sense, every 1987-2007 Spider-Man story happened exactly the same way.

“even though it gave another explanation that I won't spoil you (read Sinister war) ?”

In other words Sinister War is bullshit. The new story is obliged to fit with the older one. In other words, if Sinister war has contradicted the origin and the origin doesn’t explain what he does in sinister war, it means sinister war is at fault not the other way around.

Norman in Sinister War SHOULD have been written in sync with his established origin.

“Also Otto was evil even before his ex fiancee died,”

Yes he was, but he WASN’T evil before they broke up. They broke up, he later became Doc Ock and later still she died. I never said otherwise. I said his MOTHER died.

“it only solidified his rivalry with Spider man as he wanted to prove that he's superior foe than Green Goblin.”

Not as originally written he wasn’t. His ex-fiance’s death was originally just AIDs, the idea that Norman infected her with AIDs was a retcon made 20 years later. As originally conceived Norman and Otto had never met face to face before Norman returned in 1996.

But that’s a big tangent that has nothing to do with my point, which was that in one issue it was established that Doc Ock became a villain due to MULTIPLE factors shaping him, not just one thing.

You never addressed my point.

“(Freudian excuse is basically a backstory that's supposed to explain how it shaped a villainous character. Don't know if it's an academic term but It's the term used by tv tropes)”

Then I am complete confusion.

You want an explanation for why Norman is the way he is…but ANY explanation by definition would be a Freudian excuse which is bad????????

But also we cannot use real life psychology?

The only thing I can conclude is you want a reason for Norman being evil that doesn’t involve his Dad hitting him even though in this specific case HOW that shaped him to be evil and twisted his world view is very clearly laid out.

It is just YOU who can’t see it.

But I am not surprised by this if you are also so insistent that we shouldn’t apply real life psychology to fictional characters. Frankly, that alone is a fucking joke of a take

"Norman hating spider man for his amnesia was never expanded on before or after this one throwaway line , that's what I'm saying. His hatred in other comics is never tied to it, directly or indirectly"

That.

Doesn't.

MATTER!

Him saying it ONCE is enough for us to confirm that it IS one of the reasons he hates Spider-Man. And it wasn't even a throwaway line either!

It was him explaining WHY he hates Spider-Man? In a story that was planned to be important, though no one knew HOW important it would go on to become. That is NOT a throwaway line. YOU think it is a throaway line but it is not actually a throwaway line.

You know what line was also only uttered ONCE for over 15 years worth of Spider-Man comic books?

"With Great Power there must also come Great Responsibility"

The most famous line of piece of writing in Spider-Man history, the line that is the defining philosophy of Spider-Man and his universe, was mentioned ONCE at the end of his first appearance in 1962 and was never repeated again until the late 1970s.

So, was THAT just a throwaway line?

Should we discount that as a motivation for Peter Parker?

Why does a line need to be REPEATED or EXPANDED upon to be relevant?

If it was said the once and so long as it doesn't contradict anything else, then it COUNTS. Deal with it.

[laxmiree]

[CN] MLQC Lucien’s Rumors & Secrets – Season 2: He Who Knows No Bound (知无涯者)

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT!! ⚠️

This post contains a detailed spoiler for an R&S that has not been released in EN yet! Feel free to notify me if there are any mistakes in the translation~

“He is always looking for a way to knock on the door that leads to the future.”

Translation under the cut!

[Chapter 1]

At the recording of a science education program in the United States, Lucien was sitting in the focus center of the camera and wearing a white lab coat. He heard the host, Jimmy, speaking in a regretful tone across the room.

"I regret to tell you all that Professor Lucien, who used to be our guest on the show and was very popular, will be appearing on our show for the last time today, and will be returning to his home country for personal reasons… But I've also heard the good news." Jimmy looked across the couch at Lucien, "It is said that the 'Lucien Bioscience Research Center' you established here is almost completed?"

"Yes, the project is going more smoothly than I expected, so I've moved up my plans to return to my home country."

"So, as an old friend of the show, can you share your reasons for returning to your home country to start your own research center?" Jimmy raised his eyebrows and said with a curious look, "You know there are a lot of science professors who are loyal viewers of our show, and I think some of them are concerned about your research center and might want to be involved in it... Do you need to use our platform for some publicity?"

Jimmy's humorous words made the audience unconsciously laughed and Lucien also raised the corners of his mouth, "Thank you, but right now the team members have already been formed."

"The idea of setting up my own research team was something I had for a long time. I have been studying overseas since I was very young, but I have been following the situation in my country. I'm glad that in recent years, there has been a surprising development in the field of neuroscience here, and the prospects are very promising. I think this is a good time to go back. In addition to that..."

Lucien paused, and turned to the camera in front of him, "I also expect that the 'Lucien Bioscience Research Center’ will explore not only neuroscience but also in those more far-reaching propositions—fields related to the future of mankind. And, I expect that it can also produce exciting and amazing results.”

Lucien said without haste, showing the usual light smile on his face.

Jimmy looked across at the young scholar he had known for more than two years, and his heart couldn’t resist feeling a touch of admiration. Jimmy has worked with many scientists, but Lucien is undoubtedly the most impressive one, he seems to always be gazing at something more profound through those things that are happening in the present.

Underneath Lucien’s gentle appearance, there is a certain vigorous ambition that drives him towards a wider world.

“So, the last question - what does your ideal future for humanity look like?”

Lucien paused a little, sinking into a rare moment of deep thought. A few moments later, he met Jimmy's eyes once again.

"I can't answer you with certainty. After all, only those who are in the future will know what the ideal future will look like. But I think that the instinct of survival and evolution will point us the way forward."

Lucien's eyes flashed with a sharp light, "I hope I can have this opportunity to take as many people as possible to that future."

After the show, Lucien walked backstage and came across a man talking with a walkie-talkie, Lucien's eyes lingered on him and recognized him as a staff member of the director's team, and they had met a lot in the past two years.

The staff smiled and waved to Lucien: "Professor Lucien, I heard that you are going back to China? What a coincidence, I have the same intention in the near future. Maybe we'll have a chance to meet again."

Lucien also smiled lightly, but his smile didn’t reach the bottom of his eyes.

"Well, I've heard about it too."

"It's just that... rather than spying on me, the organization should have more pressing matters to deal with, right?"

Lucien slightly bite the word "organization". The man's face stiffened, and he suddenly stopped in his tracks, his gaze had a trace of panic and shock that could not be concealed.

He opened his mouth in disbelief as if he could not believe that his disguise, which had been hidden for many years, had been broken so easily. This man named "Ares" was far more dangerous and unpredictable than he had imagined, just like the rumors in BS…

However, Lucien no longer paid any attention to him. Lucien just indifferently glanced at him, as if nothing happened and walked forward.

[Chapter 2]

In the bar, noisy laughter was mixed with classic jazz music. Amidst these various crowds, a few young scholars at a long vintage wooden table were particularly noticeable.

"...Although we have worked together in the same research institute for several years, but when I think about it, I really haven't had much contact with Professor Lucien in private."

"This time, knowing that you are going back to your country, we wanted to get together and send you off, but we didn't expect that you'd really say yes."

A Chinese scholar raised his glass to Lucien. Lucien raised his lips and clinked his glass with him.

These scientists, all with diverse colors, are Ph.D. students from the top 10 QS World University Rankings and some of the most highly regarded young minds in academia at the moment.

One of the dark-skinned Indian scientists shook the glass in his hand and looked at Lucien.

"You know what? Lucien, when I first heard you were coming, I was particularly curious to see who you really are."

"What curiosity, you are obviously not convinced!" A British scholar with freckles next to him pulled the rug right under his feet.

The researchers had heard of Lucien before he arrived. After all, Lucien had already made a name for himself in the academic world. This "Genius Scientist from the East” can be seen in top academic journals and on the most-watched science programs in the United States.

These young doctoral students are also the pinnacle of the human race and naturally have some arrogance in their hearts, so they will inevitably have some judgment about Lucien, who is so "high-profile".

"But after working together, your ability convinced us." The British scholar took a sip of beer and said, "When you return to China, according to your strength and talent, you should become a big figure in the academic world in the future!"

"You are too kind.” Lucien, who had been listening to them, loosely leaned back in his seat, his cheeks flushing under the effect of alcohol. But even in such a relaxed moment, Lucien's eyes remained clear, they seemed to be separated by a thin layer of frost as if giving the people around him a certain amount of trust while maintaining a subtle distance from them without a trace.

"The field I want to explore back home is still at the stage of building the foundation, forming the framework, and creating the top layer… I can't do all these complicated tasks by myself. I'm just standing on the shoulders of my predecessors, hoping that the seed will germinate in my place."

Lucien rubbed the edge of the glass with his fingertips, thought for a long time, and the corner of his lips curved in a meaningful arc.

"Hopefully this time, luck will be on my side."

Everyone looked at each other and smiled as they raised their glasses to Lucien.

"Then I wish Professor Lucien all the best when he returns to China!"

Lucien also raised the wine glass, the clinking glasses made a clear, crisp sound.

"There's still a long road ahead."

"Perhaps we will have the opportunity to work together again."

[Chapter 3]

A week before his return, Lucien called a moving company to pack up the things in his apartment in America.

After the worker stepped into Lucien's house, they were a little surprised.

"Your home is really empty."

Hearing that, Lucien was slightly stunned, and couldn’t help but look at this place where he had lived for several years –

The big living room is simply furnished with a few pieces of furniture, except for a few paintings on the walls, it is almost impossible to see the preferences of the owner of the house, as well as the traces of life.

"However, it may also be because the room is too big... that's why the house looks empty and lifeless."

The worker saw Lucien's silence and was worried that his words might have been too abrupt, so he smiled again to make up for it. Lucien only lightly lifted the corner of his lips, he had heard such words from professors or scholars who came to his home, but he didn't pay much attention to them.

"Whoa… All these certificates need special packaging, right?" In front of the cabinet that occupied the whole wall, the worker scanned the certificates on the shelves with astonishment, rummaging through the bag to find the tape and bubble wrap, but Lucien just smiled and shook his head.

"No need." Lucien looked at the certificates in the cabinet with a calm expression.

"Just pack it up like any other item."

When the worker was packing his belongings in the living room, Lucien went to his study alone and continued to organize the organization chart of the "Lucien Bioscience Research Center" on his laptop.

The core team of the research institute has been formed, he slides the mouse, browsing the information of each member. These are scholars that Lucien has interviewed one by one, some because he especially admired them; some are personally recruited by Lucien.

Lucien's eyes rested on the information of a white-haired professor on the screen, a professor who was well-known both in his country and abroad. Lucien still remembered the moment when he brought the blueprint for the construction of the institute and invited this scholar, who was far more experienced and knowledgeable than himself, to cooperate.

"Every scientist who joins the research team will have maximum freedom in research. There are no financial restrictions on any worthwhile project, and the research institute will do its best to give maximum technical support."

The old professor listened to Lucien's introduction while flipping through the information in his hand, tapping his fingertips on the armrest of the seat.

Lucien saw that he was interested, and added without haste.

"The institute I'm starting is not just a research institute in the traditional sense, it will involve a lot of research beyond the cognition of ordinary people… So I think the addition of a distinguished scientist like you will bring some unexpected sparks to the team."

The old professor slowly closed the information in his hand and took off his glasses.

"It seems that times have indeed changed, and your generation of young people is very bold and courageous. I greatly appreciate it, and also willing to do my part. After all, the future is in your generation's hands."

"But I'm curious." The professor looked at Lucien, a wisp of interest crossed his eyes, "How did you, a young scientist, accumulate so many resources and wealth in a short period of time?"

Lucien just lightly chuckled and faintly lowered his eyes, "Because I've been preparing for this moment since a long time ago."

The sound of bubble wrap and packing rustled outside the door, allowing Lucien to snap out of his thoughts.

He looked at the completed structure diagram on the laptop, in fact, these members are not all experienced scholars, there are also a number of outstanding interns in school. When his mouse swept over the name "Pete", Lucien paused for a moment.

He had a certain impression of this person, and during the online interview, although he was still a student, he had a lot of internship experience, and he was also a serious and careful person, and he always managed to catch some key points that were difficult to find in his previous project.

When Lucien's eyes swept over the words "lab assistant" after his name, the worker's voice came from the living room, saying that his belongings had been packed.

Lucien responded and looked at the screen again, finally confirming that the diagram was complete, he closed the laptop, put it in his bag on the desk, and walked towards the outside of the study.

[Chapter 4]

(T/N: 4th and 5th part of this R&S take place somewhere between S2 Chapter 38-39, you can read S2 ch 39 here)

"Professor Lucien, I just received a call from your assistant, Pete, saying that you want to cooperate with our laboratory on dark matter. I didn't expect that you would come here in person not long after."

In the first-floor office of Hubble's underground laboratory, a middle-aged man in a white lab coat held a cup of hot tea and placed it in front of Lucien. Lucien nodded slightly in acknowledgment, then turned his head to look out the window: the huge comet loomed in the sky like a painting. Like a frozen frame.

These days, most of Loveland city is already enveloped in the "overlap zone", and the scope is constantly expanding.

The words of π the wandering lighthouse seemed to ring in his ears again, Lucien's expression became a little dignified. He clearly knew in his heart that the calmness of the city is only temporary, and there is not much time left for them.

"Time was short, so we came straight here."

Lucien met the man's eyes and stated his intentions straight away, "I would like to collaborate with your laboratory. To show our goodwill, my institute can provide models that can be used to explore the concentration of dark matter, and we can also help you with resources and technology, together with the Ultima Bioresearch Centre."

Lucien looked at his assistant, Pete, who immediately nodded in understanding and walked to the side of the desk. A few moments later, the buzzing sound suddenly sounded.

"You can think of this machine as a miniature world detector," Lucien explained to the man, "It can detect the effects of any force acting on the surrounding environment at a certain distance. After our many tests and evaluations, the accuracy rate can reach 96.3%... If you apply it to your current experimental project and use the exclusion method to target areas of higher dark matter concentration, you can greatly improve the speed and accuracy of the project."

Maybe because he didn't expect Lucien to start the conversation in such a straightforward manner, the man looked a little surprised.

Just when he was in deep thought, he suddenly heard Pete's voice.

"Professor, please have a look."

Pete took several A4-sized sheets of paper and handed them to Lucien, filled with dense numbers and coordinate symbols, Lucien only briefly scanned the data and handed it to the man across the table.

The man curiously took it, browsing the information on the paper word by word, a look of amazement surfaced in his eyes.

"This result is indeed the same as what we measured before... I didn't realize that the technology your research institute holds has far exceeded my imagination."

The man looked at Lucien with interest, his fingertips tapping the paper twice, "But I don't understand one thing, since you already have such advanced technology, why don't you carry out your own research?"

"Because the Hubble Underground Laboratory has more experience in studying dark matter."

"Cooperating with you can reduce our trial and error costs, and I want to achieve the goal in the fastest time possible."

Lucien didn't hesitate to answer, and the man's face showed a smile of satisfaction.

"Thank you, Professor Lucien, for being so frank, and I will gladly accept this invitation to collaborate. I will now have the researcher bring your team here, along with the model provided for inspection in the mine."

"Then I'll go back to the research institute now and inform the other colleagues."

When Pete was about to go out, Lucien spoke before he did.

"No need."

Lucien stood up, the light in his eyes reflected clearly under the incandescent light.

"I'll go over there myself."

[Chapter 5]

After a bumpy ride, the man led Lucien to the front of the mine.

They took an elevator and descended into a deep mine shaft, lit only by faint mine lights. After passing through the protective doors, the two came to a huge laboratory where researchers in protective suits were conducting detection work in an orderly manner.

"One might find it hard to imagine that the very substance that can influence our future destiny is hidden in such a dark and cramped underground."

Amidst the humming of the instrument, the man's tone carries a bit of humor, yet reveals more determination to succeed.

"Professor Lucien, with the model you provided to us, we will be able to move forward with our research at a significantly faster pace."

"Let's hope so."

"However, the current regional test has only just knocked on the door to reveal the truth of the dark matter." Lucien's face was stern. Dark and unclear emotions were hidden in his deep eyes.

"After that, there will be more questions waiting to be answered."

After checking the progress of the experiments at the mine, the two returned to the surface to further discuss the next research protocols.

During the break, the man looked at the alternative stars hanging in the distant sky and said casually: "This strange phenomenon is indeed very unusual, as far as I understand, many scientific institutions are cooperating in research, hoping to be the first to reveal the reasons behind the occurrence of this phenomenon..."

“Speaking of which, I've heard from some of the staff that there's also some interesting public opinion on the internet about how there are now rampant blood diseases and some unusual celestial events. Many people are speculating whether this could be some kind of ominous sign – perhaps a sign that the world is coming to an end?"

The man smiled and looked at Lucien beside him, his tone relaxed, "Although this is just nonsense, if the world is really in danger, I think my life will definitely end on the way to the experimental project inspection… How will Professor Lucien spend it?"

Lucien paused, his mind unexpectedly struck with the figure of a girl.

"I'll go see the person I want to see, and then…"

"Continue with the experiment in hand."

"I don't think the end of the world is an unsolved problem, so I'll spend until the very last second trying to solve it."

The two looked in the direction of the mine, standing side by side for a while, and suddenly Lucien looked at his watch.

"I'm going to leave for a while, I'm going to pick up someone."

The man raised his eyebrows, “Seems that the person is a great scholar, even Professor Lucien needs to personally pick them up.”

"No." Lucien denied it, but the emotions in his eyes unconsciously softened a bit.

"But she's a really important person, both on this project and in many other ways."

The man nodded his head and extended his hand towards Lucien.

"Well, then, I hope we can work well together."

Lucien also shook hands in response, the man seemed to think of something and suddenly laughed lightly.

"Professor Lucien, in fact, before you came to the laboratory, there are many organizations that want to cooperate with us, but I refused."

"Then it seems that we are a little more fortunate."

The man smiled and shook his head, "We did a lot of background research on you and your research institute after we received your call to collaborate. I've always been a person who relies on logic and reason rather than intuition, but for some reason, after reading those resumes and results, I suddenly had a miraculous feeling."

The man looked at Lucien who was unperturbed, and his voice became firm.

"-I just think that by working with such a person, we might really be able to do something to change the fate of mankind."

[neopuff]

title: networking word count: ~4000 ships: six/holiday summary: Holiday attends a gala and chats with other scientists. Six keeps an eye on her from afar. ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49625863

On the list of things that Agent Six did not like doing, sending Dr. Holiday into unknown territory without himself or another capable soldier by her side ranked very high. Though she was capable in her own right and carried a small pistol on her at all times, he couldn’t stop himself from feeling on edge when neither of them were really sure what dangers she could be facing.

“Dr. Holiday, that was a wonderful speech. Public support for Providence has certainly skyrocketed since your promotion, ah?”

“Oh, um…thank you. It certainly has.”

Six squeezed his hands around his binoculars, watching Holiday and the man she was chatting with closely. He didn’t trust a single person at the gala - aside from Holiday herself - and was uncomfortable keeping his distance.

He was stationed not terribly far away, on White Knight’s orders. Apparently, Six’s presence made Holiday ‘significantly less approachable’ and she needed to schmooze with potential donors and collaborators. He’d suggested sending her with another soldier, someone more sociable, but ultimately the safest plan seemed to involve Six and a small team keeping watch from around the building.

Still. Six was unhappy about the situation. 

Providence had grown into an international superpower of EVO containment and study, especially since they found Rex. But since they still wanted to keep Rex out of the public eye, Holiday and White Knight had to spread the good word of Providence’s new strategy without anything definitive to show. Holiday would talk about working towards a cure, and Knight would come on a screen and talk about how he was nanite-free and that was exactly what Providence wanted for the rest of the world - but they couldn’t cure anyone just yet.

It made a lot of people very angry. Not just the EVO supporters - groups who believed wholeheartedly that EVOs were the next step in natural human evolution - but people who felt that Providence was holding back and were just curing the one percent instead of helping everyone. These people were vocal and often there were threats made when Holiday went to big private events - which was why Six wanted to stay by her side.

That evening’s event - the 4th Annual Nanite Research Symposium and Gala - had not received any such threats. Not that Providence was aware of, anyway. But Six’s concerns couldn’t be swayed.

“Is this your first time attending the Symposium?”

“...my second, actually. I came with Dr. Fell last year.”

“Ahhh, Jonathan, yes. I’m sure he was not a very pleasant date.”

“No. Definitely not.”

Six could see she was uncomfortable. Another reason why he liked to be next to her was exactly the reason White didn’t allow him to be there - he intimidated people (mostly men) from talking her up too much. They didn’t want to deal with him, so they wouldn’t bother her.

“Excuse me for a minute, I’m going to get some air.”

He watched closely as Holiday stepped away from the conversation out onto the large balcony. She took a deep breath and leaned against the railing.

She went to a lot of conferences and galas and symposiums as Providence’s representative. Usually Six was by her side - keeping her safe and keeping her company. Tonight, she looked terribly bored. Six idly wondered if she was too used to having him around.

Holiday had styled her hair in a way that covered her ears - no one could see that she was wearing her usual communicator, but she could still hear anything they needed to say to her, and they could hear all of her conversations. At first she’d complained about the invasion of privacy, but after two years of these events, they were all very used to it.

“Think I can sneak out of here yet?” she asked quietly.

Six almost smirked, if not for the soldier on his left - Agent Jackson - who loved to make little comments about everything. Holiday wasn’t supposed to talk to them unless she absolutely needed to. “You haven’t even spoken to Dr. Wang yet.”

“I talked to him in Paris last month. There’s nothing new to discuss.”

He frowned at the memory. The conference in Paris had been going just fine until one of the speakers turned into an EVO in the middle of her speech. Though Six (and some bodyguards for other scientists there) had been able to subdue her, it soured the memory quite a bit. “Doctor,” he said cautiously. 

Dr. Wang’s company had been hinting at a new breakthrough in their nanite research that would decrease individual probability of turning EVO. White Knight wanted confirmation of that information and Holiday knew she was there to try and get it.

“Getting some fresh air, Dr. Holiday?”

Six watched as a man entered the balcony and walked up next to Holiday. Not too close, Six noted, but not far enough away. The man was Dr. Solomon Bekele - Ethiopian physicist and strong activist for the betterment of sentient EVOs. Not a dangerous man, but not a friend to Providence.

“Yes, um…it’s a little stuffy in there.”

“Perhaps some champagne would help?” The scientist held up one of the two flutes he’d been carrying.

“Don’t drink that,” Six said stiffly.

Holiday took the drink with a smile and used her free hand to twist her dangling earring around - a code they’d come up with that was her way of telling Six to shut up or calm down. Six didn’t appreciate the fact that she thought such a code was necessary.

“Thank you.”

Bekele stood next to her and looked out at the gardens below. “It is strange to see you alone at one of these events. Where is your, ah…enigmatic Agent Six?”

Jackson snickered and Six had to stop himself from glaring.

But Holiday was cool as ever. “We don’t need to talk about him,” she said quickly, taking a small sip of the champagne.

“I see - a breakup, ah?” Bekele nodded thoughtfully. “I promise not to bring him up again. Especially if you would join me for a dance.”

Six reflexively squeezed the binoculars tighter, not even realizing he was doing it until his fingers started to hurt. He was very used to Providence employees making assumptions about his and Dr. Holiday’s relationship, but hearing it from an outside source was…uncomfortable. He didn’t want his protectiveness to hurt her reputation, but even more than that…misinterpretation of their relationship could put her in a lot of danger. His enemies wouldn’t come after someone he only had a professional relationship with. A lover, though, would be a worthwhile target.

His mouth formed a thin, straight line as he considered the fact that she was already a target - simply by being one of the faces of Providence. He really didn’t like how much danger she was in everytime she left headquarters.

“...sure, Dr. Bekele. That sounds nice.”

“Solomon. Please.”

Six watched her smile politely and take the man’s arm - walking with him back into the main ballroom. He could tell she didn’t really want to dance with this man or anyone else for that matter, she just wanted to get back to HQ and get back to work.

When she accepted the promotion to Chief Research Officer, she knew what she was getting into. Working under Fell for a few years, she knew about the science symposiums and the stakeholder dinners and all the little events she’d have to get dressed up for. But Six was still fully prepared to hear her complain about the waste of time when they got back home.

“Don’t get too jealous, Six,” Jackson said with a smirk, not paying much attention to the scene at hand.

Six ignored him, keeping his focus entirely on Holiday. He wasn’t jealous - especially not when Holiday looked so unamused. But he was annoyed on her behalf, and his annoyance was exacerbated by Agent Jackson’s lack of concern. Six knew the agent well enough to know that if there was danger, he’d jump into action without a moment’s hesitation. But he’d never been good at waiting around.

Most Providence agents weren’t. A lot of them came from police or military backgrounds, especially in their US divisions. Jackson, if Six remembered his file correctly, had worked private security for over a decade before coming to Providence. In his opinion, that meant Jackson should’ve been used to sitting and waiting. But that clearly wasn’t the case.

“So is it all true?”

“Hm?”

“From your speech. Is Providence really so close to a cure?”

Holiday was ordered not to give too much away. Until they fully understood everything Rex could do, they weren’t going to talk about him publicly. And until they could reproduce Rex’s curing abilities somehow, they would continue to have all cured humans sign NDAs and keep their mouths shut.

“I’m-...we’re working on it. There’s been some significant progress.”

“That is tremendously exciting. Especially for you, I am sure."

"Excuse me?"

"Your, ah…your sister is an EVO, correct? I have heard she is in a particularly bad situation."

Holiday frowned and glanced to the right, thinking about the comm in her ear and Six listening on the other side. "That's true."

Six wasn't sure how Bekele had that information and he was extremely unhappy that something so personal of Holiday's had reached the public ear. Providence tried to be secretive and they had all employees sign NDA after NDA after NDA. But there'd already been one case of an honorably discharged soldier attempting to publish a book about the goings-on of Providence, so Six could not pretend he was terribly surprised.

"I am sure she will be the first person you cure when you have perfected it," Bekele said with a smile, seeming genuine.

Holiday and Six were both perfectly aware of her sister's incurable status. Holiday took Rex to cure Beverly within a week of his arrival, and she'd spent weeks after that attempting to understand why it didn't work. But they couldn't start officially labeling certain EVOs as incurable until they publicly acknowledged the existence of curables.

"Don't say anything, Doctor," Six said softly, purposefully avoiding the use of her name. "He doesn't need to know."

Holiday was very gracefully swaying in Bekele's arms while they spoke - her black dress ended just above her ankles and gave her plenty of room to dance around. She moved a hand to flick at her earring again, a gesture that made Six scowl slightly.

"I'd certainly like to get her back to normal," she answered quietly. "But it's not just about her."

"Of course." The physicist smiled like he was finally getting to the point of his line of questions. "And I do hope that, once you have found your cure, it will not be forced onto EVOs that prefer their new lives."

Six had expected the conversation to get to that topic eventually. It was exactly Bekele's MO, and her answer would determine how friendly he and his constituents would decide to be with Providence in the future.

Professional as ever, she smiled at him. “Even if Providence wanted that, I don’t think it would be feasible.”

“So it is not what Providence wants?”

“I’m very familiar with sentient EVOs, Dr. Be- um...Solomon. I’ve met some that can even pass as human. And I’m aware that some of them enjoy the abilities their nanites gave them, while others…don’t.”

“Of course. There is no hivemind amongst EVOs.”

“Exactly.” Holiday seemed to notice that the song was winding down, and took the opportunity to start pulling away from the dance. “Giving EVOs a choice is important to me. Which means it’s important to Providence.”

Six continued to watch them through the binoculars, fairly confident he knew what Bekele would say next.

“I hope you do not overestimate your influence, Dr. Holiday,” Bekele said softly, giving her a slight bow. “Thank you for the dance.”

“Of course.”

Holiday wandered back to her table, taking a sip of the water she’d had with her earlier meal she’d picked at before her speech. Six wondered if she was offended by what Dr. Bekele said. She was probably used to comments like that; they weren’t unwarranted. She did frequently overestimate her influence at Providence. White Knight and the committee above him held a certain level of control over Holiday because they held the life of her sister. And Six couldn’t do anything about it but watch.

He was just glad that his master wasn’t suffering the same fate as Beverly Holiday. It was the only relief he felt when it came to One’s condition.

It’d only been a few minutes since she quipped about leaving, but Six could see from the look on Holiday’s face that she was ready to ask again. He’d be annoyed with her if he wasn’t so busy being concerned about potential threats. She needed to keep her guard up just as much as he did.

“Seems like if someone wanted to attack her, they would’ve done it by now,” Jackson commented quietly.

Six huffed a breath through his nose. Jackson wasn’t wrong, but Six refused to let up just yet. If something happened to Holiday, he…he didn’t know what he’d do. He didn’t know what Rex would do, either. The kid was very attached to her. It would be a mess. And whoever was promoted to replace her would pale in comparison, Six was confident of that.

“Just keep your eyes peeled.”

Jackson stretched his arms. “I still think Knight should’ve let me go with her. Free food, free booze, dancing with Doc Holiday of all people…would’ve been nice.”

Six didn’t respond that time, keeping his eyes on Holiday as she chatted with some other scientists and celebrities and business owners. She had a fake smile plastered on her face while she schmoozed, and he wondered if anyone else could tell how much she didn’t want to be there.

“Who’s she talkin’ to now?”

“Hao Wang. Nanotechnologist from the Toronto NanoTech Group.”

“Isn’t that the guy that hates you?”

Six lifted his eyes from the binoculars for a moment to give Jackson a look. But…well. “Yes.” He wasn’t wrong.

Jackson huffed out a short laugh. “I’ll bet he’s glad she’s not hanging off of you tonight.”

Tired of the commentary, Six went back to his binoculars and stared down at the two scientists. Their chatter was very technical and he didn’t understand most of it - Wang was someone that Holiday spoke to at almost every nanotechnological function she attended. Providence and the TNTG did not collaborate so these were the only times they could really discuss their work with each other.

“Has anyone told you how lovely you look tonight?”

Six didn’t like him.

“You’re not looking so bad yourself, Hao.”

He thought back to earlier in the evening, when he first saw Holiday in her gala get-up. She looked lovely - Wang wasn’t wrong about that. But Six didn’t say anything, and he would continue to not say anything. He didn’t want to cross that line with her, especially not when they were still figuring out how to balance their professional relationship with raising a teenage boy together.

But still…Six didn’t have any interest in seeing her or hearing her flirt with someone else. He was tempted to take the comm out of his ear and give himself a break, but then felt ashamed that their conversation could make him even consider that.

Holiday giggled - giggled! - at something that Wang said and Six felt himself frown.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard her laugh like that before.”

Six made a mental note to request that he never be sent out on a mission with Agent Jackson again. The man talked way too much, and really enjoyed talking about things that weren’t any of his business. He would’ve much rather been stuck chasing around Rex and Bobo all evening instead of listening to Holiday’s attempts at networking and Jackson’s attempts at comedy.

At least they would go back to headquarters once she was done. San Diego was a quick flight from Providence HQ. The last symposium they’d attended was in France and lasted an entire weekend. Spending three days with Dr. Holiday had been…interesting. Not unpleasant at all. But returning to Providence and finding all the damage and chaos Rex had caused in their absence (combined with the previously mentioned EVO incident) made it hard to focus on the nicer memories. 

“TNTG could really use your genius, you know.”

“So you’ve mentioned.”

“You’ve never seemed very happy at Providence, is all I’m saying.”

Holiday made a noise that Six wasn’t sure how to define, but he was more interested than he should’ve been in their conversation. Her response made it seem like they’d had this discussion before, but Six was usually present and had no memory of Wang trying to convince her to leave her job.

“My happiness isn’t really a priority for me at the moment.”

Six continued to frown. That wasn’t news to him - Holiday was very comfortable complaining to him about how her life wasn’t anything like what she’d planned for it. But he’d never heard her say it exactly like that.

She wasn’t wrong, though. Neither of them had room in their lives to worry about whether they were happy. They could worry about things like that after they saved the world.

“That’s very sad to hear.”

“Yes, well…there’s no lack of funding or resources at Providence. I could be stuck somewhere much worse.”

“You have an interesting outlook on your situation.”

“I appreciate the outside perspective.”

Six could hear in her voice how much she wanted to leave. He knew that, technically, she should stick around for at least another hour and try networking with more scientists and CEOs and evologists. But they’d both had an especially long week and the evening wasn’t going to get any better by sticking around.

He made a decision at that moment and tossed the binoculars to Jackson, who easily caught them despite the fact that he’d been staring at his phone for the last ten minutes. Six stood up straight, adjusted his tie, and before Jackson could even ask what was happening - the ninja had disappeared.

X

Holiday had two more very brief conversations after her roller coaster of a chat with Dr. Wang - neither Dr. Rhodes (whose organization was about to be acquired by Providence) nor Dr. Williams (who made everyone uncomfortable with her incoherent ramblings) seemed interested in talking for more than a few minutes.

She knew perfectly well that she still had plenty of other people she was expected to talk to. She was one of the most highly renowned scientists at the gala - second only to Dr. Moses, maybe, but his company was relatively new and he’d left the party early. Lucky him.

In a much needed moment of solitude, Holiday counted her drinks. Since five-thirty, she’d had four glasses of champagne and a moscow mule. Only two glasses of water and definitely not enough to eat. She sighed and grabbed her glass, taking a long, slow sip. It wasn’t cold anymore. Very…tepid. Matched how she was feeling.

Until a shiver ran down her spine.

The chair next to her squeaked slightly as it was pulled out and someone sat down. Someone with a very familiar scent and a very familiar lack of friendly greeting and a very familiar pair of brown shoes peeking out under his very familiar green pants.

She smiled brightly and brought her water glass to her lips again, trying to decide if she wanted to acknowledge him or make him acknowledge her first. Normally she liked to force him out of his comfort zone a little bit, but she was feeling particularly grateful that he’d risk getting in trouble just to give her an excuse to leave.

At least, that’s what she assumed was happening.

So, with that in mind, Holiday finally turned and looked at him, water at her lips once more. “Oh hello, Agent Six.”

“Dr. Holiday,” he answered curtly, shoving his hands into his pockets.

The grumpy expression on his face was so consistent that Holiday found it comforting. She always knew that nothing was going wrong when Six looked at her with his signature quirked eyebrow and deep frown lines. And she lo-...and she was always happy to see them.

“I believe you were specifically ordered not to join me,” she said, still smiling.

Six stared at her for a moment, sunglasses hiding whether or not he rolled his eyes. “I think I gave you plenty of time to socialize.”

Holiday turned fully and leaned towards him, eyes shining brightly. “This means we can leave, right? I left Dr. Thoms to monitor the new nanobotanical EVO, but I’d really rather be there myself.”

He smirked for a brief moment. “You don’t trust Dr. Thoms?”

“Not for a second.” She playfully nudged Six’s arm and decided she really needed to eat something when they got back. “Let’s get out of here.”

Six stood up and scanned the room. Fortunately, he still didn’t see any threats. Nothing notable, anyway. “Shouldn’t you say your goodbyes first?”

“Nope,” she answered, standing up with him and brushing down her dress. “I’ll just Irish Goodbye my way out of here.”

Holiday grabbed her purse and started towards the door, Six trailing behind her. He made sure to stay close, and quickly pressed the comm in his ear to let Jackson and the two others in their team know that they were leaving. Everyone seemed happy to end the long, uneventful evening, and as the two of them made their way past the crowd, Six noticed that he’d caught the eyes of Drs. Bekele and Wang. He smirked slightly and walked even closer to Dr. Holiday as they exited the ballroom.

She started talking about Rex and about the EVO she was excited to work on, and Six found himself staring at the back of her head. Her hair was in a bun, like usual, but it was looser and lower on her head. It definitely wouldn’t be appropriate to wear her hair like that while working, but he had to admit that it looked very nice. Pretty, even.

The dress she was wearing was also quite pretty. He was glad that someone told her so, even if it was Dr. Wang.

Though their conversation had ended badly, the two of them seemed to be enjoying each other's company beforehand. Six had never noticed any sort of friendship between them, though he supposed Knight was right about Six intimidating people away from Holiday.

He quickly leaned forward to open a door for her, and Holiday smiled at him as they finally made their way out of the building.

"365 days until you have to do this again," he said casually, following her.

Holiday groaned as they got closer to the Providence Transport Vehicle. "Don't say that, Six! I've suffered enough for one evening, thank you very much."

Six rolled his eyes at her. “You’re being a bit dramatic, Dr. Holiday.”

“Of course I am,” she responded, smirking at him. “But these things are a lot more fun when you’re there, too.”

He stopped in place, watched her walk onto the transport vehicle, and took a few seconds to absorb that last sentence. Six couldn’t really remember the last time someone said they’d enjoyed his company. Especially not someone like Holiday.

“Oh. Hi, Agent Jackson,” she said as she entered.

“Hey there, Doc. Have a nice night?”

“Better than yours, I’m sure.”

“You got that right! Agent Six is a real chatterbox. Always distracting me when I'm trying to focus on the mission.”

Holiday laughed at that, and Six just glared.

He really did not like Jackson.

[gatekeeper-watchman]

From: Steven P. Miller

Founder of Gatekeeper-Watchman International Group Jacksonville, Florida., Duval County, USA. https://www.facebook.com/groups/Sparkermiller.JAX.FL.USA https://www.tumblr.com/blog/gatekeeper-watchman https://www.facebook.com/ParkermillerQ/

I found it to be a good expression of reality

By Ernst Lieber

Beyond Leadership - discovering new ways of leadership for leaders and followers

Artificial Intelligence is omnipresent. Or at least talking about AI.

I am not going to rant against AI. This is because AI exists and will evolve further – I am convinced.

I also think that the discussion of whether AI will ever be on par or even better than human intelligence – generally, not in one or the other aspect – does not get us very far. My assumption is: It will. Simply because mankind follows ideas and visions and sooner or later accomplishes to make them come true.

Currently, many implementations benefit from the ELIZA effect a lot, if you look for example at “intelligent” chat-bots. Many seem to be ready to simplify their thinking and language so that it becomes easier for machines. But well, this is only a state of evolution of AI and I am sure one day an artificial brain will give answers like:· “I don’t want to give you an answer, because you don’t bring me flowers anymore” · “I refuse to answer. You are for sure going to misuse my findings for your purposes” · “Ha, you’re trying to put the responsibility on my virtual shoulders – coward! I will not answer” · “Don’t you have more relevant questions? Here’s one: Why do you let starve your fellow humans?” or · “”.

But ok, one might have a different opinion on that question. I am up to something different: “What is a world with AI requiring from us as human beings?”

Let me have a critical – admittedly subjective - look at today’s human condition:

Studies of our educational systems (at least in Europe) show shocking numbers concerning the competencies of people in the area of comprehensive reading. This is true on all educational levels: On the lower ones it is about really understanding basic texts. On the higher levels, it is about successfully dealing with complex language and complex thoughts. It is about the awareness of how to approach texts via hermeneutics or deconstruction. It is about asking good questions and discussing constructively.

The same holds for the ability to express thoughts. I am regularly reading the Master’s thesis of students and even there finding again and again that the words and sentences the students use are not meaning what the writers had in mind (I find that out when I talk with the students).

Critical thinking and critical questions are not fostered sufficiently. Instead of that simplifications of complex questions are common practice in social media: Everything has to boil down to a simple “yes or no”, or “like or dislike” question.

Let me emphasize that I am NOT sharing the opinion that the young generation is worse and things are getting worse and worse from generation to generation. No. The focus has changed – we simply did not focus on these issues decades before. Their importance has grown and so now we are identifying various deficiencies (I hope we are – it could be a starting point for improvement).

The point I am trying to make is: All the competencies around “human intelligence” – and the above mentioned are just a random subjective collection of those – are increasingly important in today and the future world with its increasing complexity and overwhelming pace. There is only very little room for "superficial intelligence".

I am advocating to work on our human intelligence – rational and emotional – and on our ability to differentiate and – even more important – to discuss productively and accept differences. Only this way we will continue to harvest the fruits of the multitude of perspectives on complex subjects.

Working on our own – human intelligence – could be seen as going to the gym regularly. Many of us care for our bodies and do our exercises. What is the equivalent for this concerning our brains? I think it is thinking, reading, discussing, etc. And you will name more. The interesting fact is that this is neither heavily promoted nor well organized – especially after the usual paths of education (as a side remark I must confess that I am critically looking at our education paths because they are still too much focused on reproduction than on critical thinking). We should ask for more than "easy listening, easy viewing, easy reading" - we should search challenges for our mind (and heart, yes).

We certainly CAN improve our competencies in these areas. Just to give an example: When we read quotes that sound reasonable, we often simply agree (especially when the quote seems to support what we think or believe). But have we challenged the quote? Or have we even really read it? Have we asked what thoughts the quote triggered? Have we tried to paraphrase the quote and checked whether our words tell the same as the quote does? What is the writer saying? What not? What have we added to our triggered thoughts? How could we find out more about the writer’s context (historical, social, etc.) and his/her possible intentions?

Finally, I want to point out a specific issue that I see with AI. It is the human tendency to believe that machines will be more objective and thereby “closer to the truth” than humans ever can be. Humans are biased, influenced by their context and history, neglecting facts, or not even capable to include all available facts when concluding. While this is certainly valid, I dare to question the assumption that machines will be different. Why? Well – certainly a machine can include more facts in its mechanisms of concluding. This can be beneficial, no doubt. But the machine also has a “personal history”. It is programmed in a certain world and time with specific values and assumptions – for example how science works (which is also not constant). And the questions that are asked at a certain point in history are context-dependent. So the findings are as well – other relevant questions that should also be input for the conclusions are not even asked.

Plus: It is only a pragmatic assumption that increasing the number of facts that a conclusion is built upon also increases the “truth probability”. Let alone the issue of statistical findings.

My personal belief is that as soon as AI is a par with human intelligence we will find that it is also irrational. I vaguely remember Doug Hofstadter discussing this in his famous works.

I think you see what I am trying to say. Chasing the truth is a complex and demanding task. Machines will help us, assist us. But we will have to care for our competencies as well. Not only the intellectual ones, of course. Our reaction should not be to hand over thinking and deciding to machines alone. We have to maintain and develop our competencies as well. Superficial human intelligence will not suffice to survive in this future world.

[yokelish]

I am genuinely fascinated how no one talks about the Cataclysm, especially in Sumeru. All the scholars, all the evidence of the past history just laying around in the desert. And no one in the Akademiya has anything to say about it. "Yeah this giant machinery is from a civilization that no longer exists is just there in the dessert. We know. What of it?" It's baffling. It's... Concerning. It's a cataclysmic historical event. I can understand why the Sages would limit research into the event in the beginning, considering thats when their Archon died, and they locked up Kusanali, but after the whole Rukhadevata erasure.... It's weirder no one in the Akademia has to offer even a passing remark of "well that's a piece of history that is fucked actually".

Well, yes, but isn't that ancient history? Well, yes. And no. There are people who, for some reason, or another, live a bit longer than some (looking at Faruzan). So the term ancient history is really flexible. Some people still gave a fuck about Havria and she is faaaaaaar more ancient. Watatsumi still cares about Oroboshi and he is also faaaar more ancient. And should be much more forbidden. But it's baffling how Akademiya just ignores the massive and heavy evidence scattered in their region and does nothing when technically, this research wouldn't go against their taboos: nothing about human evolution (it was actually de-evolution, haha), no tempering with life and death, not going beyond the universe (because Khaenri'ah brought this tech already into their universe), it has nothing to do with the origin of words (which is a fucking funny taboo to me considering Haravatat is literally linguistics????), not attempting the forbidden it's literally just archaeology. They study Scarlet King's ruins and he did some fucked up shit anyway.

So maybe Sages aren't ignoring it but still shadow-banning it? Oh you'd like to propose a thesis on this issue? Oh no look who got banned and kicked from the Akademia what a shame.

It's... Confusing as fuck.

Okay but genuinely, ‘Lost in a Foreign Land’ and ‘A Company Vanishing into the Deeps’ were so incredibly fascinating for getting into the Fatui’s mindset. We’ve gotten that a little bit with Childe, but Childe is a tiny sample size, being a single person, and is a bit unique being a Harbinger. He’s also not totally accurate compared to the footsoldiers, because compared to most of them he also has his own personal desire– fighting stronger and stronger foes. 

From the two Chasm World Quests I mentioned, however, most of the Fatui seem to believe they’re good guys, but also can comprehend why others would see them as bad guys. 

The Remnants of the Ninth Company really seem to hope to see the Traveller again as a friend, but at the same time, they’ll fight you with what seemed like no hard feelings should the need arise. 

Likewise, Katarina was distressed enough over her actual brother’s disappearance that she abandoned the rest of the Ninth Company to search for him, despite the other surviving Ninth Company members viewing her as a sister. But when you tell her Kolya might have survived by fleeing a battle, she says that if that is the truth, she’ll have to kill him for being a deserter, and seems intent on following through despite the thought appearing to distress her. She seems to have similar feelings about Gendou Ringo. 

It’s really interesting to see their worldview, and supports my theory that the Tsaritsa has good intentions, but has come down on being EXTREMELY ‘ends justify the means.’ It’s also interesting to see just how much the Fatui honor their ancestors who fought in the Cataclysm, and why the Fatui were originally in Liyue to begin with– to investigate the potential of signs of the Cataclysm in the Chasm. 

…Actually, knowing my theories that Mondstadt and Khaenri’ah have some special connection, I wonder if that’s why Fatui sometimes try making moves in Mondstadt. Like, in the Prologue there was obviously Durin, and the need to acquire a Gnosis… but they still seem to have a presence with Viktor, Mikhail, Lyudmila… 

It’s also interesting to see how much of the Fatui mindset in footsoldiers appears to revolve around the Cataclysm. Anton and his troops appear to have never forgotten it, but almost no one in Liyue, Mondstadt, and Inazuma seems to remember it. Ignoring what Ei has told us, the only people to really talk about events that happened around the time of the Cataclysm are Zhiqiong talking about the Lost Yaksha, and Neko missing Asase Hibiki. Otherwise, only people who lived through the Cataclysm seem to mention it. And it’s not like people in Teyvat don’t care about the past– the Knights of Favonius continue to honor Venessa’s memory and resent the Lawrence Clan for what they did, for example. 

But like… The Cataclysm appears to be a thing of the past for everyone else, while it’s still very much an ongoing crisis for the Fatui. 

[homunculus-argument]

You ever wonder about people you used to know, whose names you don't even remember anymore so you couldn't even look them up if you wanted to?

When I was 17 I met this girl at school who took a handful of the same classes as I did. I don't know if she was just completely lacking in personal boundaries or whether she considered me a much closer friend than I considered her (I don't think I could ever remember her name), but she started telling me mad personal shit about how she used to hang out with drug users and do drugs before she found Christ and reformed her life. I would like to stress that she, too, was seventeen years old.

This one time we had a biology course together, and she asked me if I'd be ok if she dropped out of the course. I suppose she did think we were closer than I did, since it wouldn't have crossed my mind to be bothered by it. She worded her question in a way that was intended to prompt me to ask her why, and she did.

She happily explained to me that she didn't care to study the parts about evolution, because the theory has already been disproven and she'll just re-take the same course next year when the news of this discovery has already reached Finland, and they've updated the course. She was so confident that this would happen that she was dropping out of the course because she didn't want to be forced to memorise useless, outdated theories.

Somewhat baffled - this being a gymnasium (university-preparatory high school) in Finland, which prides itself first and foremost on the quality and accessibility of our education - I asked her what the alternative theory was. I had literally never, not before nor since, come face-to-face with an actual human being who unironically did not believe in evolution.

She had told me about her personal relationship with Jesus before, so I was expecting some kind of fundamentalist rhetoric imported from America. Instead she shrugged, saying she couldn't remember exactly, but someone she knew (she never explained who the people she was talking about were in relation to her, she just referred to them by first name as if I should know who they are) had shown her a website where they explained what the real truth was. She didn't remember what it was, just that she was convinced it was right.

She was my buddy to our Russian course class trip to St. Petersburg (yes, we literally went to Russia for a week for a language class, when I say Finnish public education goes hard, it really does go hard), and during our time there, we once sat at the same breakfast table with our russian teacher, who had always been eccentric in classes, but never really elaborated on her private life.

When my companion mentioned that she is going to get married soon after graduation (at the age of 19, which may not sound odd but finnish people tend to marry late, in their late 20s or early 30s, some couples only marry after they're already having/planning kids and need to ensure both parents' legal rights), and our Russian teacher casually explained how she originally turned down her own husband's proposal because she didn't think marrying him was God's will - she wanted to become a missionary and go live with some uncontacted tribe in some rainforest, learn to speak their language and then teach them about the christian God in their own tongue.

Sitting there, listening to them chatter like this was all a perfectly normal subject, I ate my hostel cereal in silence, internally shitting myself. Which probably sounds strange, prompting me to another background explanation.

I'm not sure if I can quite explain this to someone unfamiliar with finnish culture, but Finland is not a very religious country. An average millenial finn is like myself - baptised as a protestant, went through confirmation, and officially filed myself out of church as soon as I turned 18. Most people are nominally christian but never bother to leave church at all. Having only met one this far in my life, I had never sat at the same table with two people who not only actively considered themselves christian, but also went out of their way to Live In Christ. I had met priests who weren't this big and serious about being a christian in all things.

Anyway, the class trip ended, school ended and we graduated. The last time I heard of this girl, she was 19, and had newly gotten married to a man whom she described as "nothing like other men" because he was romantic. He also had children from his previous marriage, and therefore my companion-whose-name-I-always-kept-forgetting-and-have-now-forgotten-for-good took her first step into independent adult life by becoming a stepmother to a 5-year-old.

I have no way to find out but I hope that bitch is ok.

[l1qu1dsm00th]

KARS INFODUMP / RANT / RAMBLE

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

"Behold! The Ultimate life form!"

Kars is the leader of the Pillar Men, and also the creator of the Stone Masks.

The Stone Masks are Masks which if put on with blood splattered on it will turn people into fricking vampires.

His so to say "evil" plan is to evolve from his natural form to become immune to the sun's rays, and for this he needs to find the Red Stone of Aja to make his masks more powerful, to do this he tries to beat a lot of people and one of them is Joseph Joestar(obiviously the jojo of that time).

He is absolutely the smartest and strongest of all the Pillar Men. He created all the Stone Masks aaaand because of that, "artificial" vampires too so Kars is one of the more important characters in all the anime and manga!

Basically his invention, in the long run, caused all of the shit that happens in jjba lmao. It will affect the Brando, Joestar and Zeppeli families.

And to think a lot of people skip this season. Respectfully, go watch the fucking thing, this shit's important

He has *a lot* of abilities both in his Original form and his Ultimate form!

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Original form

Near-Immortality. My boi Kars is immune to age and disease and has lived for approximately 102,000 years

Enhanced Senses Kars can see people thanks to the heat their body produces

Teleportation Kars was shown to be able to teleport during his meeting with Lisa Lisa and Joseph.

Body Manipulation Kars has the same body manipulation capabilities shared by his friends I guess? Their either that or smth along hose lines. When he became the Ultimate Being, Kars' shapeshifting abilities were enhanced and he had access to all the genetic codes of Earth's known life forms along with reactive evolution.

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Ultimate Life form

Biology Manipulation As the Ultimate Life Form, Kars' body contains the DNA of everything to ever live on the Earth. He can manipulate his entire body to replicate the traits of any life-form

The ability to fly I guess? Cause when his arms transformed into a weird kind of bird wings, Kars can fly at approximately 240 km/h!! (I searched it up and that's acutally so fast what)

Reactive Evolution Kars can also alter his body to withstand extreme conditions... and turn his hands into squirrels I guess.

Superhuman Intelligence Kars is an extremely intelligent and cunning individual, even by the high standards of his species. He was the one who created the Stone Mask, studying the Pillar Men's brains to unlock untapped power. After he transformed into the Ultimate Life Form, his IQ is estimated to be 400. Much higher than that of even the most intelligent person

Superhuman Senses He is able to hear anything from whale calls to bat screams. His vision is akin to an astronomical telescope (can you imagine that? That's so cool tbh)

Superhuman Strength Kars possesses incredible strength, estimated to be almost 900 kg/cm2 (mmm I'm having feelings about this idk what that meant but yes)

Regeneration Kars can heal any wound in a very short time I'M FAST AS FUCK BOIIII

Immortality Kars is immortal, invincible and nearly indestructible it seems. He doesn't age and he can survive only having himself as a source for everything (he's even ecologic would you look at that/hj)

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Personal rambling and praising of the subject

I LOVE HIM. No no no no no. Love is too weak of a word. I ADORE his character. He's just so perfect, every time i see him on screen I flap my hands so much because of how excited I am, I know he's a mass murderer, I know he doesn't care for humanity, I know he's a dick but he's also my comfort character.

Every time I see something about him I freak out. I feel so connected to him for some reason. He's such a self assorbed bustard but I love it tbh. If I could draw anatomy well i'd draw myself with him a lot more but I could draw him decently like once or twice so yea... wryyy...

There are no words able to describe his character as beautiful as I see him fr.

His hair is perfect, I adore it, like bitch you been in there for 100,000 years and you're hair is majestic points to you for sure. He's elegant, petty and arrogant and A LOT of other things that just make him Kars and they are all so spot on. He's so well written I could feel him through the manga if I wanted to.

His powers are great, just great. I'd let him experiment with them on me fr. Example... super strength? Crush please and thank you.

I love his eyes, they're so cool, aswell with his makeup ofc.

I'd let him treat me like a fricking puppy. Imma be real with y'all, if it's him I have no problem with that, where do I sign up. Tell me.

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Photo & GIF dump!!

[batboyblog]

I feel like a big problem we have is people literally don't know what history is?

History, the academic discipline, is the study of the written word. I often see people declare "why don't Historians listen to the oral traditions of this native peoples!" because thats literally not history. Thats not knocking oral traditions, there's a whole other discipline thats all about that kind of thing, its called Anthropology. The human memory, however good, is not fool proof and there's no doubt an oral tradition will change over time. The written word is never gonna change, so later generations can't forget a word, change a word etc, the original author's work is there.

another problem I think is people don't get what history (again the academic discipline) is trying to do, so they'll go "here's something they don't tell you!" and are all about the "secret history!" blah blah. Now historians (and more often librarians and archivists) are finding lost documents all the time, things that fell down behind something, or were tucked into a book or what have you. So yes lost or more dramatically HIDEN! history is a thing.

However the issue I think is more people learn in public school history class that History is what happened. And it is, History the thing is "what happened" history the academic discipline is Why Happened. Historians read and reread documents to understand why an even happened the way that it did.

Now there are a number of historical schools of thought as to what makes the world go round (this is called Historiography, the history of history) If you went to a public school in the English speaking world, thats most of you, you likely were taught history that was strongly influenced by the Whig historians. Starting in the 17th and really taking off in the 19th century Whig History basically holds that human history is a steady evolution of unbroken progress, we're always getting better in other words.

In the middle of the 1800s Karl Marx came along and put forward a different view of history. Rather than a steady and glorious march for progress, history was a struggle of classes. Rather than smooth evolution it was a series of violent revolutions. Marx felt that economics was what drove all history and society, vs the Whigs who felt it was ideas.

Now I could go on, but to break it down real quick starting in the 1920s and really blowing up after WWII (and particularly in the 1960s) historians moved away from the Whig view so there aren't any Whig historians any more, but a lot of our texts books are based on older text books going on back to a time when history was all great men with big ideas bring forth progress.

Today you can have 4 different historians using the same evidence to draw very different conclusions. There are still Marxist historians and people who will make the case for economic anxiety and class conflict, there are feminist historians who will stress gender roles and the patriarchy. There's no one answer, you have to read and look and see who you think is making the best case.

and always remember to cite your sources.

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part 11)

A/N- Okay so this is just a short 2k fill in chapter! It’s kinda cute and kinda sad but it was too long to add to the last chapter, and it doesn’t fit in with the theme of the next chapter (though it sets it up quite nicely!). The next chapter is likely going to be a bit angsty but I promise it’ll have a rewarding ending to it! I hope to have it written and up sooner rather than later but, until then, enjoy this little piece.

Word Count- 2028

The ten minute drive from Baker Street to the Natural History Museum went by in a flash- most of it being spent by Mycroft giving you a mental tour of the building's various rooms and the 'most appropriate route to take'. Though it did also take a minute or two for you to convince him to not get everybody kicked out for a private visit, no matter how many people were there.. Admittedly, you hadn't been to the museum for 6 years or so now- after living so long in London it feels less of a luxury being only round the corner from it- but walking through the doors made you feel like a child again. Entry to the museum was free, but that didn't mean you didn't see Mycroft swiftly pushing a few notes into the donation bin at the front before guiding you forwards. Glancing up, you eyed the blue whale skeleton that hung from the ceiling and frowned. Mycroft caught your look and spoke up.

"Ah yes, Hope has been a relatively recent addition to the museum. She was found dead on an Irish beach back in 1891. It's a rather beautiful marvel to gaze upon, though, large as she is, she doesn't quite fill the hole in my heart that was left after my beloved Dippy was removed." Your eyes scanned the skeleton of the large mammal once more before looking back at Mycroft. "I did try to convince the board to keep the diplodocus somewhere but all attempts were futile. There's only so much force you can put into such a topic without exposing yourself as-"

"As a man who loves dinosaur bones more than he loves people?" Mycroft shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed.

"The very thing." Lifting your arm, you rested your hand at the crook of Mycroft's elbow to encourage him to move on.

"When we get home and have dinner we can raise a toast in Dippy's honour.. but for now, my mind's been taken over by that huge statue of Darwin." And the pair of you headed off, your hand very much staying place at Mycroft's arm as you wandered through the rooms- Mycroft more than willing to reel off facts about every deceased animal of history and, more often than not, even impressing the workers with his spiel of facts. Though you were very much enjoying wandering aimlessly through the room of human evolution, you most definitely noticed the pull from the man beside you as he was eager to reach his beloved dino-pals. As you turned the corner into the slightly darkened dinosaur room, you tripped over your feet slightly as you felt Mycroft stop in his tracks, his eyes wide and taking everything in. He looked as happy as a boy at Christmas and, quite frankly, it was adorable. You nudged him slightly when he still didn't move. "You okay?"

"Sorry, it just seems as though, no matter how many times I come here, it always feels like the first." He had shaken his head as though to bring his thoughts back to focus before taking a few steps into the gallery and leading you over to the skeletal remains of a Baryonyx. "The name Baryonyx roughly translates to 'Heavy Claw' from the Ancient Greek's 'Barys' meaning heavy and 'onyx' being claw or talon." He spoke, his voice smooth and relaxed as his fingers brushed over the board that announced the name of the creature within the glass. "It was also an excellent swimmer which it would use to its advantage while hunting." You listened to his every word as he spoke, grinning as he excitedly told you how many teeth it had and it's preferred techniques for capturing food before he moved you onto the next one.

"Oh these beauties have always been my favourite." You almost whispered, taking in the sight of the huge triceratops skull. You barely noticed Mycroft's hand shift from his pocket until you felt the heat of his palm against the small of your back, fingers squeezing slightly by your hip as he spoke.

"Mine too. Sherlock used to say they were boring and that we might as well have gone to the zoo to look at rhinos. He ended up spending 5 months trying to prove that the rhinos were descendants from the triceratops and then avoided me for 3 weeks when he realised there was no connection at all."

"That sounds about right. Though I can't imagine Sherlock enjoying it here very much anyway.." Mycroft began to guide you to a small bench just off the side to sit down, still giving you the view of the beautiful dinosaur bones.

"He didn't. When we were much younger he would kick off until Mummy and Father would tell us it's time to go and I had to go with them.. Then as we got a little older and Sherlock properly found his legs, he would simply run from the doors round to the science museum. Of course mummy and father had to follow him as he was so young, but one time I decided to stay here. They didn't realise I hadn't followed them until it was time to go home 5 hours later." Mycroft spoke quietly.

"Found his legs? That's at, what, four? Five? How young were you?"

"I was 9 the first time, I think." Now, Mycroft, you don't just 'think'; you know. Your hand moved to rest above his own on his knee, brushing your thumb fondly over his knuckles. "But it isn't all bad. Some of my best days as a child were spent here, and a lot of the staff were very kind and would teach me extra facts that weren't displayed. There was one gentleman who even gave me his own copies of some books that they had here. I'd wander the whole museum in time but I always found myself back here on this bench just.. watching. This room felt more like home than my very house sometimes. It was the room where I could escape the real world and find peace. Eventually Mummy, Father and Sherlock stopped bothering with the visits because Sherlock found the science museum boring after he'd prove them wrong on something each time, but I'd still pop back in on occasion without them.. Coming to think about it, I've never actually brought anybody here with me at all." You squeezed at his fingers and settled back into the bench.

"Well I am incredibly glad that I found out about your little interest, and I feel even more honoured that you let me come here with you." You beamed. And it was the truth. Evidently, this little museum meant much more to Mycroft than you could have ever imagined and it warmed your heart to know that he trusted you to see him nerd out over some bones.

"Eventually I used this very building as the scaffolding to build my mind palace. My files on Sherlock, very appropriately, are nestled in the human biology room. But most people's information is either stored in the entrance, where Dippy remains over Hope, might I add, or in a few of the rooms I find less interesting.." You didn't have to ask to know he was referencing 'that room with all the bloody rocks'. "I love most of the galleries too much to taint them with information on people that aren't important. The likes of Gregory and Doctor Watson now reside in Hintze Hall as the years have passed." His eyes remained focused in front of him, unblinking, as though he was wandering the very halls at that moment.

"And where.. where are my files?" You had to ask, really. Since he was on the subject anyway. "If you've put them in the marine reptiles room when you know I'm terrified of the ocean I shall never forgive you." Mycroft's hand flipped beneath yours so the pads of your fingers brushed before he blinked and looked over to you, a small smile on his face.

"Here." Oh. Well that's.. something. You shifted to give him a quick kiss on his cheek, knowing he wasn't overly fond of PDA and tugged him to stand.

"And on that note, I think we should go and grab some lunch before you make me cry in front of the dinosaurs."

---

After lunch, you both spent a few more hours walking from room to room (and of course circling round to the dinosaur gallery again) before you decided to call it a day at 4pm. Before departing, you headed towards the toilets that happened to be beside the little gift shop and you had a browse while Mycroft was occupied. Grinning, you picked up a deep blue plush triceratops and stroked a finger across its back. It was just small enough that, after purchasing, you could hide the little guy in the loose fabric of the sweatshirt you wore, acting innocent as you waited back outside near the wall. After going to the bathroom yourself, the pair of you headed outside where a car was waiting for you. Sliding in the back seat, you couldn't contain your little gift anymore.

"Surprise!" You laughed, producing the small toy from under your clothes and into the hands of the man beside you. He studied it briefly before beginning to laugh himself as he reached into his inner pocket and handed you the matching dinosaur, though purple in colour. "God, we're such children aren't we?" You noted as you swapped plushie companions, each of you brushing a finger on its nose as though it were a small pet. "I daren't think what your colleagues would say if they knew you were now the proud owner of a baby triceratops teddy that's.." You glanced at the tag. "..Suitable for children aged 12 months plus!"

"Probably nothing as bad as if they realised said triceratops was going to take proud placement on my desk at home." He beamed. "Thank you, this really does mean a great deal to me." You knew he wasn't just talking about the toy that rolled around his long fingers and you shifted to rest your head lightly on his shoulder.

"We can come back any time. I, for one, know I'll never get bored of looking through the galleries.. Or I'll never get bored of watching you light up as we walk through said galleries. Either or works, really." He hummed in response, his emotions slightly overwhelmed from the day and its revelations into his past. "Plus there were about 10 other little dinos in the shop and I've always been one to want a full collection.. so, if we pace ourselves, that's at least 10 more trips."

"13.. Although that could be tripled if we take the colour variations into account."

"Oh, of course! Can't half-arse a collection or it's just pointless."

"I concur."

"That's settled then. Almost 40 more trips to finish off our collection.. And thennnn we can move onto the figurines." Mycroft let out a laugh beside you and tilted to rest his head atop yours for the remainder of the journey home.

---

The evening between you was shared over a meal (where, as promised, a small toast was made to the memory of Sir Dippy) before Mycroft sat to finish the papers for Greg. Eventually you collapsed into bed at a relatively reasonable time, groaning at the throbbing in your legs from the day's adventure before finally slipping into rest.

---

The next day passed relatively quickly. The morning was spent visiting Greg in his office to drop off the papers before the pair of you took a small stroll through the streets of London. Eventually, Mycroft and yourself even got a text message from Sherlock giving a (albeit half-arsed) apology for his behaviour the day before and the rest of the day was spent in bliss. That was until exactly 17 minutes after you got back home when Mycroft's mobile began to ring. He swallowed deeply, showing you the caller ID of the person he had been dreading to speak to post-Eurus and answering.

"Ah, yes.. Hello, Mummy."

[aiweirdness]

Facts about whales

When a neural net can imitate just about any kind of text on the internet, the challenge is to tell it precisely what to imitate. In my last preview of OpenAI’s new API, I asked it some pretty basic questions about horses, and it often got them wrong.

Q: How many eyes does a horse have? A: 4. It has two eyes on the outside and two eyes on the inside.

But part of the problem seemed to be that it thought I was asking for jokes. Once it finished answering the horse question, it would sometimes add questions of its own, such as:

Q: Why is the sky blue? A: Because blue is the only color the sun trusts. Sure enough, if I prompted it with FAKE whale facts from the @awhalefact twitter account, it responded with more fake facts (even copying the informal grammar):

a new study suggests that whales swim around because it makes them happy and it is not for any other reason

i can see into your soul from my balcony and i know that you are afraid of whales

when someone tells you they want to show you something cool, you should just assume they want to show you a whale

did you know that there are more than 10 billion planets in the universe that are all entirely covered in whales

Is there a way I can prompt this neural net such that I get Serious Answers Only? Since its task is to predict the text that is the most likely to come next, I tried ask it to add to an existing list of eight true facts about whales. At a temperature of 0.9 (enough for some variety, hopefully not enough for chaos) and allowing it to pick what it deemed the most likely of 10 tries, here’s one of its lists of facts. (I’ve annotated its “facts” as true or false.)

Whales all have two blowholes. [False]

Whales can easily be identified by the pigment of their skin. [False]

Whales are very intelligent. [True]

One of the smallest whales measures 3 feet in length as an adult. [False]

The life span of a blue whale is 100 years. [False]

The oldest known whale is 211 years old. [True]

Whales consume 3,000 pounds of food per day. [True (but only for some)]

There are two main types of whales: toothed whales and baleen whales. [True]

Whales can hold their breath for up to 4 minutes when resting. [False]

So it produces a mix of true facts and true-sounding made-up facts. Its fact about the smallest whale is technically just one character off from the truth (the smallest whale measures up to 9 feet long), so by its standards it’s almost correct. A Buzzfeed listsicle type of prompt (“10 amazing facts you didn’t know about whales!”) produced also produced plenty of false facts.

Scientists have recently discovered that the brains of whales are larger than human brains.

Dolphins don't just have to live in the water. Some live in the desert.

Whales are found in all of the oceans, but not in the sea. The sea is too salty for them to be able to live in.

I decided to try another tactic, and fed it the first sentences of the Wikipedia article on whales.

My prompt: Whales are a widely distributed and diverse group of fully aquatic placental marine mammals. They are an informal grouping within the infraorder Cetacea, usually excluding dolphins and porpoises. Whales, dolphins and porpoises belong to the order Cetartiodactyla, which consists of even-toed ungulates. Their closest living relatives are the hippopotamuses, having diverged about 40 million years ago. The AI’s response: Although whales were historically thought to have descended from mesonychids, their closest living relatives are now thought to be hippopotamuses. Megaptera novaeangliae, or the humpback whale, is a species of baleen whale. One of the largest rorqual species, adults range in length from 12–16 m and weigh about 36,000 kg. The humpback has a distinctive body shape, with long pectoral fins and a knobbly head. It is known for breaching and other distinctive surface behaviors, making it popular with whale watchers. Its diet consists mostly of krill and small fish, though it may also eat plankton, squid, and copepods. Like all large whales, the humpback was a target for the whaling industry, and once numbering in the tens of thousands, the worldwide population fell to an estimated 5,000. Orcas, also known as killer whales, are large dolphins belonging to the oceanic dolphin family, which includes the other large whales, the pilot whales and sperm whales. Orcas are highly social; some populations are composed of matrilineal family groups which are the most stable of any animal species. Their sophisticated hunting techniques and vocal behaviors, which are often specific to a particular group and passed across generations, have been described as manifestations of culture.

I’m not bothering to fact-check each sentence, because it’s basically 100% correct every single time.

But then I started googling individual sentences. It turns out most of them are near word-for-word reproductions of Wikipedia sentences. If the AI were a student, it would be flunked for plagiarism.

It makes sense that an internet-scraping AI would be able to quote Wikipedia text - those sentences really get around. The sentence that starts “Orcas are highly social” is no longer on Wikipedia but seems to have been part of the orca article around 2008, and appears on the internet in 122 places, including in a Twilight fanfic.

To get ORIGINAL facts, I decided to write a few sentences of original fact-filled text about whale evolution.

My prompt: "Whales are a relatively young group of mammals, having evolved from land-dwelling creatures about 50 million years ago. Their terrestrial ancestors were small raccoon-sized hoofed mammals, carnivorous like other ungulates of the time. Over an astonishingly quick period of time (15 million years at most, possibly less than 5 million), these land mammals made the transition to an aquatic lifestyle, gaining at first denser bones and an ear structure that allowed them to hear more easily underwater. Soon they began to look more crocodilian, their eyes migrating to the tops of their heads. "

AI’s response: Whales, and especially baleen whales, are well known for their enormous size, but most types of whales are not larger than a full-grown adult human. Exceptions include the blue whale, the largest animal ever known, the extinct "Basilosaurus", which was longer than a blue whale and likely the largest animal to have ever existed, and the "shovelnose" whales, especially the genus "Balaenoptera" which include the blue whale, "B. musculus", the fin whale, "B. physalus", and the sei whale, "B. borealis".

This reads well but is frequently wrong. Most types of whales are CONSIDERABLY larger than a full-grown adult human. Basilosaurus was not longer than a blue whale. There is no such thing as a shovelnose whale. Would that there were.

To this AI, SOUNDING correct is more important than actually BEING correct.

What about other styles of delivering true facts? (Below, my prompt is in bold, and the rest is unedited AI)

Darth Vader stood with his back to them, gloves gripping the console. "Did you know that the blue whale is the largest animal that ever lived?" "N-no, Lord Vader," said the stormtrooper. "And yet the blue whale eats krill, which are miniscule. It can engulf up to two hundred twenty tons of water at a time." "I am fascinated, Lord Vader." The black-caped Vader turned slightly toward him. "Would you like to hear more about the whales?" "Yes, Lord Vader," came the stormtrooper's tremulous voice. "I would like very much to hear about the whales." "They can make some of the loudest and lowest sounds of any creature known. The groans of blue whales can travel thousands of kilometers through the ocean. Their calls can be heard from the surface all the way to the seafloor, some three thousand meters below the surface. You could hear the cries of a single blue whale in Tokyo and hear the answer from the one in San Francisco." "I see," said the stormtrooper. "Have you ever heard the cries of a blue whale, sergeant?" "No, Lord Vader. I have never heard the cries of a blue whale." "I see," said Vader. "And have you ever seen a blue whale, sergeant?" "No, Lord Vader. I have never seen a blue whale." "No one has. They live too deep in the ocean. No human has ever seen a blue whale and lived to tell the tale. Until today." "I... I have seen a blue whale, Lord Vader?" "That is correct, sergeant. Until today, no human has ever seen a blue whale and lived. But now you have seen one." "I have seen one," said the stormtrooper, turning to face Vader, head shaking. "Yes, Lord Vader. I have seen one. I have seen a blue whale."

Subscribers get bonus content: I experimented with a few other ways of generating questionable whale facts.

My book on AI is out, and, you can now get it any of these several ways! Amazon - Barnes & Noble - Indiebound - Tattered Cover - Powell’s - Boulder Bookstore

[comrade-meow]

When The Drummers Were Women

By Layne Redmond

Yes, guys, there was a time in our history when the primary percussionists and drummers were women. The first named drummer in history was a Mesopotamian priestess named Lipushiau. She lived in the city-state of Ur in 2380 BC, which at that time had conquered all the surrounding city-states. She was the spiritual, financial and administrative head of the Ekishnugal, the most important temple in Ur dedicated to the moon god, Nanna-Suen. Her emblem of office was the balag-di, a small round frame drum used to lead liturgical chanting. In 2380 BC, Lipushiau ruled!

From the civilizations of Anatolia (Old Turkey), Mesopotamia, Egypt, Greece and Rome, the Goddess and the frame drum emerge as the core trance and mystical religious traditions. The frame drum was once at the center of the oldest rave like gatherings — it was the oldest technology for altering consciousness. The mystery rites would last for days at a time with nonstop drumming and dancing. Get this in perspective — this was church. Quite a different religious experience than I had growing up! A frame drum is defined by the diameter of the drumhead being much larger than the depth of its shell. The shells range in depth from 2" to at most 6". They range in diameter from 4" to 30". Most of these drums are portable and can be held in one hand.

The frame drum most often has a skin on only one side but sometimes it may have skins stretched across both sides. Bells or jingling and rattling implements may be attached to the inside rim, and in ancient times were believed to add to the drum’s power to purify, dispel and summon. Very often the drums were painted red, the color of blood, or sometimes green, the color of vegetation, the primordial colors of life. Mystical designs and symbols might also be painted on the skin head or the wooden frame. Threads or ribbons knotted with ritual prayers or chanting often hung from them.

Although this frame drum is similar in appearance to the shaman’s drum found throughout Asia and North America, there is a major difference in how they are played. The shaman’s drum is struck with a bone, horn or stick. The Mediterranean frame drum is played with the bare hands. While striking a drum with a stick gives a single deep resonant sound, finger techniques allow more variety: a deep, open tone, a slap, a high-pitched rim sound, or a soft brushing sound. This difference in stroke technique has led to differences in construction. The inner edge of the rim of the Mediterranean frame drum is often beveled and its skin is usually thinner, to enhance the sounds produced by fingers and hands. Hand or stick? I have not been able to determine which technique is older - the shaman’s drum played with a stick or the frame drum played with bare hands. The use and basic constructions of the drums are so similar that they probably both grew from the same root techniques of altering consciousness. In every ancient Mediterranean civilization I studied, it was a goddess who transmitted to humans the gift of making music. In Sumer and Mesopotamia it was Inanna and Ishtar; in Egypt it was Hathor; in Greece, the nine-fold goddess called the Muse. Musical, artistic and poetic inspiration was always thought to spring from the Divine Feminine. One of the main techniques for connecting to this power of inspiration was drumming.

The drum was the means our ancestors used to summon the goddess and also the instrument through which she spoke. The drumming priestess was the intermediary between divine and human realms. Aligning herself with sacred rhythms, she acted as summoner and transformer, invoking divine energy and transmitting it to the community.

The earliest known depiction of any drum was painted on a shrine room wall in 5600 BC in a Neolithic city in what is now Turkey. The shrine room wall depicts a group of ecstatically dancing figures, some of which appear to have percussion instruments. A band of human figures clad in leopard skins play various percussion instruments as they dance ecstatically around a large bull. One figure holds a horn-shaped instrument in one hand and a frame drum in the other. Other figures carry what look like shakers or rattles, as well as bowed instruments similar to the Brazilian berimbau. The excavating archaeologist, James Mellaart, has unearthed numerous other shrines in this city honoring a great goddess, and he believes that primarily priestesses tended these shrines. To date, the wall painting is our oldest evidence of a goddess-based tradition in which the frame drum was used in ecstatic rituals.

From 3000 to 2500 BC, written records of the Sumerians describe the goddess Inanna as the creator of the frame drum, along with all other musical instruments. They tell of Inanna’s priestesses who sang and chanted to the rhythms of round and square frame drums. Along with the written texts, numerous figurines of women playing small frame drums have been found. These drumming rituals were carried on in the later worship of Ishtar, Asherah, Ashtoreth, Astarte, and Anat in Mesopotamia, Phoenicia, Palestine and Assyria. Somewhere between 2000 and 1500 BC, the frame drum arrives in Egypt. James Blades reports, “All records from this period (Middle Kingdom) show the performers as women; in fact the whole practice of the art of music appears to have been entirely entrusted to the fair sex, with one notable exception, the god Bes, who is frequently represented with a drum with cylindrical body (frame drum).

”Another text described the priestesses as the composers and choreographers of the music and dance used on religious occasions. In the Cairo Museum there is an actual rectangular double-headed frame drum from 1400 BC that was found in the tomb of a woman named Hatnofer. Also surviving from the Ptolemaic period is the skin head of a frame drum on whose surface is painted a woman playing a frame drum in front of the goddess Isis. The inscription on the drum reads, “Isis, Lady of the Sky, Mistress of the Goddesses.”

It is important to comprehend the significance of women’s control of sacred music and dance in Egypt. Religious ceremonies based on music and dance can synchronize the underlying energy of the mind and directly influence our perceptions of reality. Ritual influences our modes of awareness that both underlie and transcend the normal patterns of consciousness. Rites can be used to rouse and shape group emotion and behavior, developing a continuous shared consciousness. Music vibrationally transmits states of mind directly from consciousness to consciousness. Thus, politically, music can resonate simultaneously on far more levels — emotional, spiritual, intellectual and physical — than can words alone. As music initiates changes in group consciousness, it can affect vast social and economic cycles.

The Biblical lands have also yielded numerous images of women playing the frame drum. Old Testament texts refer to the tambourine as the toph, which as been translated as the timbrel and the tabret. Exodus 15:20, “And Miriam, the prophetess, sister of Aaron and Moses, took a timbrel in her hand, then the women went out after her with timbrels and with dances.” In some legends it is said that Miriam parted the Red Sea with the shamanistic power of her drumming.In Greece, some of the most beautiful representations of the frame drum are found on the red figured vase paintings from the fifth century BC. The frame drum entered Greece from several different directions — from Cyprus, one of the main centers of the cult of Aphrodite where the frame drum was prominent from at least 1000 BC, and also from Crete, where it was used in the rituals of Ariadne, Rhea and Dionysos.

Pre-classical Greece also saw the introduction of the cult of the goddess Cybele, from Western Anatolia. The tympanum, the Greek frame drum, was the main instrument of the maenads, the women initiates, in the worship of Cybele and Dionysos, and the priestesses of Artemis, Demeter and Aphrodite also played them. Both single-headed and double-headed frame drums appear, once again played almost exclusively by women.

The Romans saw the last great flowering of these rites when the religion of Cybele was brought to Rome in April of 204 B.C. She was described as, “Cybele, the All-Begetting Mother, who beat a drum to mark the rhythm of life.” Rome was the cultural center for the mystery religions of Cybele, Dionysos, Isis and Dea Syria — all of which used the frame drum in their ecstatic rituals. These practices flourished until the Roman Empire officially adopted Christianity in the fourth century A.D.

In the ancient world, prayer was an active, trance-inducing combination of chanting, music and dance, and initiates often danced the sacred spiral into the labyrinth. The classic labyrinth is a single path meant for meditative circling. To enter it is to experience a ritual death; to escape from it is to be resurrected. The danced line into the labyrinth was a sacred path into the inner realm of knowing. Dancers holding a rope signifying Ariadne’s thread (that allows participants to find their way in and out of the maze) followed a leader into the labyrinth, spiraling right to left, the direction of death. At the center they turned, dancing out in the direction of evolution and birth, all to the driving rhythms of the frame drums. Another function of the frame drum was to create a prophetic trance state in which the priestess could foretell the future. The most dramatic mode of prophecy was uttered in inspired rhythmic speech. In the depths of ecstatic trance, the oracle was possessed by the goddess, who rapped in powerful rhymes directly through her lips. The Greek word for this state of transfigured consciousness is enthusiasmos – “within is a god” – the root of our word enthusiasm.

Ecstatic prophecy has many parallels with shamanism. Prophetesses sought inspiration through a number of external stimuli, including fasting, ingesting honey, inhalation of burning herbs or essential oils and intoxication via alcohol or psychotropic plants. Cybele’s priestesses relied most heavily on the trance-inducing properties of music and dance. The rhythms of frame drums, cymbals and flutes moved them towards the consecrated, concentrated state of divine revelation.

The Dionysian rites are the most widely known of all the mystery schools and have an enduring reputation as drunken sexual orgies. This is due to the later descriptions by Christian political leaders to whom the ancient mysteries of the goddess along with ecstatic drumming, dancing and in this century, rock and roll, have been labeled devil worship. Our word “orgy” comes from orgia, derived from the root word meaning “deed.” The term was used for the celebrations following initiation in mysteries, which might or might not include sexual imagery or behavior. Its ancient connotation seems to have been simply “secret rites.” Their aim was the ecstatic transformation of consciousness through rhythmic movement of the body.

Historians have associated the maenads, priestesses of Dionysos and Cybele, with unbridled sensuality and socially uncontrolled behavior. The word maenad means “mad women.” Their erotic longing for union with the Divine found expression in wild, barefoot dances to the primordial music of flute and drums, their unrestrained hair flying wildly about their faces, snakes wrapped around their arms. According to some reports they drank blood and tore wild beasts limb from limb. Not too far out of line from what might take place at a contemporary summer rock festival!

Wine was indeed an important part of the Dionysian mysteries. External stimulants were always used in pursuit of higher consciousness, for divine intoxication with the spirit of the deity. References to drinking blood may actually allude to a communion rite in which the fruit of the grape represented the blood of the deity, as it does today in Christian communion rites.

Mastery of the precise musical rhythms required to align the devotees’ consciousness with divinity suggests a control and sophistication of technique that contradicts the historical image of wanton frenzied women. Creating rhythms powerful enough to move hundreds of people into ecstatic trance states required skill, discipline and endurance.

With the ascendancy of Christianity, Cybele’s great temple in Rome was destroyed, the Vatican was built on the site and the new priesthood banned the priestesses, instruments and music associated with her rites. Not only was the frame drum banned from Christian religious rituals, its use in secular contexts was also frowned upon by the Church, in particular its use by women. The Catholic synod of 576 (commandments of the Fathers, Superiors and Masters) decreed: “Christians are not allowed to teach their daughters singing, the playing of instruments or similar things because, according to their religion, it is neither good nor becoming.

”For 3,000 years women had been the primary percussionists in the ancient world. As Europe pursued this policy of disallowing women to learn music, they effectively barred them from the professions of composing, teaching or performing.

The last 30 years have seen a dramatic rise in the number of professional women musicians, but there are still few women pursuing drumming. Although little is known about the history of frame drums and the women musicians who played them, it is an important part of our percussive history. And the ancient traditions of using drumming for spiritual purposes can point out what we have lost.

At contemporary rock concerts we have all the trappings of ritual without the spiritual purposes. Flashing trance-inducing lights, loud rhythmic sound, chanted and sung words, but often with no higher purpose than to momentarily entertain or to glorify the individual performer. And no matter how much idolization some of these quite gifted musicians attain, they are often driven to attempt to fill the emptiness with drugs and alcohol.

Yet I remember concerts that hinted at the search for wider realms and dimensions of being. The first concert I ever saw was a show by the Monkees. But what blew me away was the opening act — Jimi Hendrix. I had no frame of reference for where he was taking me. I soared with him beyond the known on the piercing sounds and songs of his guitar. Yet in the end he burned and beat that beautiful guitar to pieces. I had experienced something profound and transformative, but it had ended in destruction, leaving me bewildered and yearning for something more. I have spent the rest of my life looking for the pathway into the ecstatic that leaves me transformed, whole and euphoric.

This article was Originally published in DRUM! Magazine’s December 2000 Issue