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itsuki-minamy · 4 years

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FOUR SEASONS OF K: “UNCLOUDED BLUE”

Translation: Naru-kun

Raws: Ridia

"Can you recruit new recruits?"

"Scepter 4". In the captain's office, Fushimi shook his eyes as he listened to Munakata next to Awashima.

"What are you talking about? Captain, you can't install anymore."

At the end of January of this year, the Dresden Slate that chose Seven Kings and gave them strength was destroyed after the battle with “Jungle”. As a result, the Kings lost Damocles' sword, a symbol of their power and much of their power.

The power that only the "King" possessed, the power to perform the installation as his own clan member, is gone.

"That's right. I still call myself the 'Blue King', but I can't get any more Clansmans."

"If that's the case. For logistical support, you can use the police."

"Captain, I also wonder. Certainly, in January, humans around the world temporarily became Strains, and many people still retain their power, and it is a fact that the number of Strains related cases has increased dramatically since last year. However, it is too dangerous to hire an ordinary person as a member of "Scepter 4" because it requires personnel. As Fushimi says, strengthen cooperation with the police.''

"No, they are average people."

Gently obstructing Awashima's words, Munakata said. Fushimi and Awashima open their eyes.

Munakata got up from the office desk and went to the window. Gaze at the outside world, filled with bright spring light.

"As Awashima-kun says, the number of Strains in the world has increased significantly in January. The existence of Strains, who had long been under wraps for control of the information of the Golden Clan, came to light, and the Strains' case became familiar to people. However, are all the talented people and survivors the cause of the incident? The answer is no. There are many people who want "the order to be an appropriate member of society by controlling the extraordinary power that has arisen over themselves". Don't you think giving them a sword of justice helps us and helps to form an orderly society?"

Fushimi widened his eyes.

"You mean, trying to get Strain as a member of Scepter 4?"

It is common to find Strains and make them a member of the clan. Good examples are Anna Kushina, the Red Clan, and Miyabi Ameno, Neko of the Silver Clan.

But when it comes to accepting Strains without being able to install, the story is completely different.

Awashima was also confused.

"Physically, it would be possible for a compatible Strain to physically act as a member. However, it does mean that those who do not belong to the Captain's blue power are called members of "Scepter 4" and a member of the Reisi Munakata clan. The definition of clan will be broken."

"You can collapse."

Munakata replied in a low voice.

"I no longer have a Damocles sword in my head. The definition of "King" has already collapsed. Although the responsibility for "Scepter 4" has increased, the support of the organization "Scepter 4" is being lost. We have to change."

Awashima took a deep breath, then hardened her expression to change something inside of her, and corrected her disposition.

“A person harboring the Captain's cause, even if the Captain does not live, is called a member of the Blue Clan. "Scepter 4" will change to such an organization.”

Munakata is deeply framed in Awashima's words.

"That's right. The new members are no different than the "Scepter 4" members. I think our blue doesn't even have a single cloud.''

"Okay."

Awashima stretched out her back and saluted. Munakata's line of sight turns to Fushimi, who remains silent.

"…I get it. Well, originally, I'm not in a position to call different people.”

In response to Fushimi, Munakata laughed.

++++++++++

The registration ceremony was held in early April, as was the general opening ceremony.

It seems that the star of the human eye drawn as a member was already attached when I speak to Fushimi and Awashima. Three days after Munakata went to the scout and Fushimi and his friends spoke, they were all there.

The new members, dressed in brand new blue uniforms, are now meeting at the barracks with Strains. There was a burning air that flowed between the members of the special body of "Scepter 4" that watched over there.

"How will we deal with the Strains members?"

Kamo crossed his arms with a difficult face. He laughed because Domyoji was empty.

"I think it's okay to do normal. Right?"

"Oh, yes. We will serve as a role model for young people doing our job as usual."

"Well, there are probably a lot of boys with different types of abilities than us, so I have to think about how to teach for each boy."

Akiyama and Bensai make serious comments about each other. Fuse asked the new members to be vigilant.

"Wouldn't you put your ability out of control...?"

"Fufu. I wonder if you didn't come in so it wouldn't happen. It's an orderly clan, so it's just a matter of teaching how to control."

"As Goto said, at least coming here is a guy with guts trying to control his power and help the world."

"They are the right people for the Captain's glasses."

On the side of Goto, Hidaka, Enomoto and others, Fushimi was reviewing the resumes of the new members with a tablet. They have a variety of backgrounds, but they are all young people who have been tense due to the January madness.

"Oh!"

One of the new members rushed in and made a strained voice.

A young member who looks like a child. However, when he reviews the resume, it was older than Fushimi. Although he decided on a job offer for a major company due to a new graduate of four top graduates, the job offer was canceled due to the effects of Strain. After that, he called Munakata and decided to join "Scepter 4".

Fushimi looks at the new member with some pity. He blushed slightly on his cheeks and bowed to Fushimi in a quick posture.

"Fushimi-san. Do you remember me?"

"I do not remember you."

"Oh, yes! Well, Fushimi-san saved me!"

The new member had a shocked face for a moment, but immediately recovered and smiled.

“In the case of the Strains in January, my power got out of control, luckily I didn't hurt anyone, but I was shopping, so I did a lot of damage to the store at the time. I was not supposed to be arrested or claimed for damages because the property damage caused by the outburst of powers could not be dealt with.''

The government promulgated from the beginning that "criminal punishment would not be necessary for the damage caused by the outbreak of powers", due to the swift action of Isana Yashiro, the Silver King and the Golden Clan.

He thought that it would not be so if he were grateful, but the new member laughed with a slightly bitter look.

"But I didn't lose my ability even after that day. So, the eyes of the people around me saw me as a dangerous person when I was wrong, even the company that gave me the job offer told me that they couldn't run the risk and they couldn't hire me. If I was lost, it was because I was confused and the powers exploded. I was wondering what to do, what should I do when the overflowing power destroyed the surroundings, and Fushimi-san rushed towards me and grabbed my hand to stop the insurrection of the powers."

There was such a thing when told. Fushimi frowns as he recalls the story of a passionate new member.

"Think of a sword. Drop the image that power is runaway. It is not something you can handle. Think of a sword that you can control and put in your scabbard." You told me to try to imagine my power to spread like a single sword, and then the power would fall within my will and the sword would fit into my scabbard. As you can see, the power has stopped coming out. After that, Fushimi-san gave me a valuable tutorial.”

The new member smiles with a big smile. In the background, Domyoji yelled, "Hey, Fushimi-san!" It made him want to hit.

"Then I started to think that my power was not just a nuisance, but something that, if controlled, could do something. At that time, you helped me and I never got lost. Thanks to Fushimi-san. I am very grateful to you!"

The new member tilted his hips at a right angle. Fushimi inadvertently clicked his tongue due to the situation.

"I was just doing my job."

"And during the January paranoia, there were many people who were helped by people dressed in blue. I wish I could be one of them..."

In response to Fushimi's naive response, the new members raised their heads and turned bright faces towards Fushimi and the members behind them. Fushimi, who became troublesome, left Akiyama's place behind him and pressed the newcomer's response.

Akiyama steps forward and touches the new member's shoulder with a refreshing face that Fushimi cannot.

"Our job is to keep order with the cause in mind and help people. Now you can become someone who helps."

"Yes."

Awashima, who was reviewing the saber to be delivered at the enlistment ceremony, giggled a little as she looked at Fushimi and approached the edge of the floor while listening to the heat sensitive exchange on her back.

"You did a good job."

"I don't remember saying that."

It is uncomfortable. Fushimi is not good at teaching people things. At that time, he feels like I've been thinking about how to lead him. He was really cursing.

Munakata, Awashima, narrowed their eyes and looked at Fushimi, then they looked at the sky. It was a clear blue cloudless sky.

"The sword will no longer float in this sky, but the path we have taken, led by the Captain, will be the mark of "Scepter 4" in the future."

Awashima briefly closed her eyes longingly for Damocles' blue sword.

They can hear the sounds of Munakata's shoe.

Recognizing Munakata walking slowly from the barracks building towards them, Awashima shouted out loud, saying, "Line up!"

++++++++++

Although he was unable to empower the clan member, the enlistment ceremony was carried out as before.

The new members are called one by one, and they walk in front of Munakata to kneel down. Awashima hands the sword to Munakata, and Munakata releases it from its scabbard. Munakata places the sword on the new member's shoulder and speaks quietly.

The saber is clad by Munakata and presented to the new members.

"Promise to act with the pride and belief of a swordsman, and take up the sword."

The new member vows and receives the sword to wield it. Until now, at that time, Munakata's blue power was bestowed with the sword, and blue light was transmitted from the sword to the entire body, but now that phenomenon does not occur.

This ritual has no special meaning; it is only one way. However, Fushimi knows that Munakata values "form". He believes that for a human being it is worth the formal weight and makes clear the will of a person.

After the sabers had been awarded to the new members, Munakata slowly looked at each of the new aligned members.

"As of today, you are members of "Scepter 4". One day, suddenly, you were given some powers, unlike the other members who had the ability to be prepared and willing. Fufu, in that sense, you can be more like a "king"."

The new members are looking at Munakata.

A breeze blew and the lined cherry blossoms scattered petals across the ground.

"You who have gained power regardless of your choice, however, have decided to obtain a sword of blue order by your own choice. Not a sword to hurt, a sword to control and protect. You are like-minded, members of the Clan. Blue. Get ready."

At the same time that Munakata slightly admired, Awashima ordered.

"All the staff, Batto!"

The members draw the sword one after another. New members do the same. The blades shining in the sunlight received a forest and turned towards the sky.

"Control the sword with your sword. In our cause, there is no cloudiness!"

Under the clear blue sky, Munakata's voice sounded high.

#K #k project #k fan clan #k stories #scepter 4 #Saruhiko Fushimi #reisi munakata #awashima seri

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jokertrap-ran · 4 years

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[Drama CD] 7′Scarlet Limited Edition Bonus CD: According to the candy in the skull Translations

*Commissioned by @melynir, Thank you! *Spoiler free: Translations under cut

Commissions are still open!

Who is it…? Hurry and name yourself!

I can’t believe it...There’s a murderer among us?

Don’t do this, please! It’s not good to be suspecting each other like this...I can’t...I can’t stand doing this!

You can’t be joking, right? Are you serious? And in the first place…

Yeah. I’m dead serious. There’s certainly someone here among us who’s a murderer, wearing the facade of a human; an undead who has returned to the living.

7’Scarlet limited edition drama CD: According to the candy in the skull.

Undead…? I do know that there’s been a story being passed down around this place that dates back to a long time ago. But...are you...are you seriously saying that it’s true?

That’s right, Kushinada-san. Look. Look closely at the eyes of the owner. He doesn’t seem like he’s joking in the least bit now, does he? And he’s the one who brought it up…

Do you think I’d joke about something like this!? If you’re going to continue fussing about this and being in denial, Isora, I’m going to write you off as the undead himself!

Wha- Why!?

Calm down, both of you! How about you look at Kagatsuchi instead? It seems like he has somehow come to a conclusion about this matter.

R-Really!? Hino-kun!

...Well, I guess.

There’s no longer any need to withhold any information back. Now, Kagatsuchi. Will you tell us exactly what it is that you’ve figured out?

Ngh!

Very well. I’ve actually felt that something was off for quite some time now, but I simply shrugged it off, thinking that it was just my imagination. However, after watching his actions and behaviours for some time...that feeling only got stronger.

Enough of the long-winded talk, Kagetsuchi. Just point the guy out already. Who’s the undead? The murderer not of this world!

I’ll leave the explanations for later then. I’ll tell you who this murderer who’s been making the death toll increase here in Okuzaneto! The worst murderer of this generation! Are you all prepared?

Y-Yes, I am.

Yeah…!

Of course.

The undead...is you!!

What!?

Isora, you say!?

Heh. Hahahaha!! There’s nothing I can do now that I’ve been found out. I’m the undead that has just been introduced by yours truly…

Argh!! Wait a minute--! I really don’t want to act as the undead anymore! I don’t wanna!!

Hey! Isora! That line wasn’t written in the script!

It doesn’t have anything to do with the lines! I can’t help not wanting to do what I don’t want to! I don’t like it! Why do I have to be the undead!?

It’s a role that has to be filled!

You lost at rock-paper-scissors!

Just accept it already.

It’s not like I can, either! I’ve never died before, so I don’t understand how the undead’s supposed to be feeling!

Isora-kun...If your words are true, then you won’t be able to act. Acting, you see, is to express and show something that can never happen; to bring something that you;ve never experienced into reality. Actors who cannot act without having prior experience before will never make it far in this world and they’ll never be able to score a big job either!

You know...It’s not like I want to be an actor in the future or anything.

What? Neko-megane! You seem awfully knowledgeable about these things?

Ah! Could you, perhaps-!?

Urk! O-Oh no…

Could it be that-!?

Please, Hino-kun. Don’t go on any further…!

You’re an only child!?

Ah...That’s all?

Kagutsuchi...You should stop that habit of yours of immediately assuming any and everything. Plus I’ve never heard you assuming anything else about him, other than him being an only child.

I can guess his blood type too!

K-Kagetsuchi! If I may please hear more about that?

I don’t care about his status as the only child or his blood type! Can someone else please take the role of the undead!? It’s not for me. It’s not like I’ve ever acted before. I’m not really good at it and I don’t aspire to be an actor in the future either!

Isora! There’s no need for all that! The only question here is, will you do it or not?

He totally took Isora’s words as if he was just talking to himself…

It’s one thing to make Isora feel that strongly about something, but in all honesty, I’m not one to be putting up with this farce either. Besides, why do I, of all people, have to act in something like this? I am THE Yuzuki, you know?

It’s not like we have a choice either. We’re lacking in manpower. Plus, we only roped you in under the Owner’s orders via Yuki.

Honestly, for crying out loud...Right, someone go fetch Yuki here. I bet he’s the one who came up with the casting and the scenarios. I’m going to make him amend everything before my very eyes!

Yuki says that he’ll only be back late because he has some stuff to wrap up in a meeting regarding a live tomorrow.

A meeting, you say? So he’s off having tea with some idol while I’m stuck here being an embarrassment on his whim?

Well...But he said that Eito-san won’t be participating, despite being the lead. So everyone brought up the question of whether a meeting can really be held without the star.

But, she said that “I cleared my schedule the day before the show so I can give it my all when the live comes!”

Oh? Really? Wait, Neko-megane!? You’re awfully knowledgeable about Eito-sama…

Ahh!! Now, could you perhaps-!?

O-Oh no!!

Enough of this turn of events; we’ve heard it plenty.

This act of ours is supposed to come before that live, right? Why is this even required?

Seems like everything was set up according to Eito’s wishes! And Yuki whipped up a script real quick after having received the job.

Yuki seems really taken with Eito. I’m sure he went all “Leave it to me! I’ll pour all of my heart and soul into coming up with the script!”

I’m kind of indebted to him…

Even still, why did you have to drag all the people staying in this inn right now? Can’t you just leave this to the high-schoolers or something?

That was also because of Eito’s request. Am I right, Neko-megane?

“Yes. Hanamaki-san would be happier about it if that were the case. And I wanted to join too…”

“I wanted to join too?”

“No, I wanted to play the role of an adult once!” So, Yuki-kun said.

He was the one who wrote this script...but who would’ve thought that it would be centered around the undead. Isn’t this going too far?

Well, I think he also wanted to do something Okunezato-esque.

But it’s not all that unusual to do a play based on old myths and legends either, right?

Even after all that, this is still a piece that has quite a bit of suspense in it so we need actors with an adequate amount of acting ability.

How ridiculous. We’re not actors, therefore we’ve got no responsibility nor obligation to be acting in this.

Well, I don’t disagree with acting itself. It’s pretty fun, actually. Oh! Or is it that the Owner’s embarrassed to appear up the stage alone while acting?

Don’t be stupid. I’ve already gotten used to appearing alone a long time ago. Speaking off...I dare say that my acting skill is the best out of all of us here. I may look like this, but I’ve received the best pity acting award during my time in school when I had a part to play in the school’s play!

The best pity...acting...award? Isn’t that bad?

In any case! I’m taking my leave from here! I’m not signing to act like a bunch of monkeys under the farce of a play.

Wait. Don’t be so quick to come to a decision, Owner. Yuki-kun went through all the effort of writing the script! Are you sure you want to put all his hard work to waste? He, who managed to pen all of this down during his free-time even though he was all so busy? The script is one thing, but it must have been hard for him to set everything up like this. Adding all of the time he might have spent on this, just how much effort do you think he put into this?

...You’re actually counting them all?

It is said that the average pay is 50,000Yen. Which means that he should have netted about a hundred or so Yen per shift.

Has Sousuke-san gone stir-crazy…?

But he hasn’t sought payment as if he were working a shift. He was simply doing what he needed to be. Therefore, I think that he has to be repaid in some way, even if it’s to bring what he was working on into reality. Don’t you think so?

Ah...Someone should stop him.

Besides, if we’re so ready to blindside how much work a girl’s putting in, then perhaps we should make the men drop the amount of shifts they’re taking and-

Err, in other words, he’s trying to say that we should do it since Yuki had put so much effort into it. He’d be sad if we don’t so won’t you help us out here?

Amari! That’s just it! That was exactly what I wanted to say!

Seriously? All I just did just now was to wing it-

For Yuki’s sake…? It’s kind of unfair for you to be throwing such a lowball, but...I’ll do it.

Ehhhh? He accepted pretty readily!?

Only this time. And I have a condition.

What is it?

Change the script. It’s not good to be fooling around like that with a script revolving around the undead. It goes against the very will of Okunezato. No matter how much effort Yuki has placed into this, I won’t allow something like that.

After acting along with us this far? I wonder why you’re saying this only now, all of a sudden?

Owner...he must have remembered all the lines by heart. I mean, he’s the only one who didn’t bring a script with him…

Right!? I’m sure he prepared before coming here!

You all...Are you pretending not to have heard what I just said?

No...I understand where you’re coming from. But in all honesty, it’s also pretty hard for me to call this scenario that Yuki has written up to be a job well done.

Really? I think it’s pretty interesting, though.

And just which part exactly are you referring too?

Which part? Well…

The part where the undead opened his mouth and spewed fire, burning everything into ashes! That was impactful!

I don’t really know about that, myself. I mean, destroying the stage? That’s a recipe for disaster.

That’s why we need it to be re-written! So no accidents and woes happen!

It’s fine, isn’t it? It’s just fiction! It’s just a corpse, anyway. And the ending was great too! Everyone breaks out into a dance after the undead being is defeated!

Were you already prepared to break out in dance…? REWRITE!

I suppose rewrite it is...But what will we do about the script? The act’s slated for tomorrow and there’s no way we can write up a new one now.

Simple! We just have to have an original story to base it off. If we are to use an old legend and myth like we’re doing right now, there are tons of it out there!

Ahh...I see. Then...How about Momotaro?

It’s lame but It’s been turning up in commercials lately so it wouldn’t be that odd of a story to be replacing it with. The era, though…

Okaay! It’s decided then. Who wants to be Momotaro? Whoa, wait a minute! 5 people can’t be playing Momotaro!

So you say, but you’ve got your hand raised too.

I’m glad to see that everyone’s enthusiastic about this.

Way too enthusiastic, don’t you think!? Even the Owner has his hand up!

Okay, okay! 5 people acting as Momotaro’s just plain impossible!

Really? I heard that some other place had everyone acting as Momotaro though.

There’s no need to compare to them now, is there? Plus, if everyone’s playing Momotaro, then where’s the bird, the monkey and the dog!? And even if we did make it to the island, there wouldn’t be any Oni.

It’s certainly interesting, but don’t you think this would be hard to act out? If we add the old man and the old woman...5 people wouldn’t even be close to enough.

What if we ask Tsukiyomi-san and Karasuma-san?

The declined.

They...declined…? There was an option of declining!?

He turned it down immediately, thinking of it as simply being a gag prank.

Ugh! I totally thought that I absolutely had to participate in this no matter what…How could I have foreseen this…!?

You know, I’ve always wondered about this ever since I was a kid, but Momotaro must really be one lucky guy to not have died after the Old woman opened the peach as she did. I mean, she sliced it cleanly into half...Oh! How about we have a suspense scene for that? A Momotaro murder! The catchphrase...right! Who killed Momotaro!?

The perpetrator’s the old woman, isn’t it?

To hide the evidence of the act she committed, she closed up the peach and sealed it back up.

And the Old man came back from the mountains, only to be roped into her own conspiracy…

I really can’t see the old granny doing that though...but...I’m kind of interested to hear what comes next!

...Enough. Anyway, we should really think about an act that includes all 5 of us, each in different roles.

Then...How about Urashima Taro? You can be Otohime-sama, Owner.

Rejected! Next.

Then Kintaro! No girls appear in there so it’s settled, isn’t it?

Okaaay! Who wants to be Kintaro? Wha- NOBODY!?

Kintaro...he ends up naked after all.

I...Being naked’s NG for me.

Like hell I’m going to bare my chest for all to see just because of this! REJECTED. Next!

Then, Chikarataro!

No, no, it should be Monogusataro.

Sannetaro!!

Enough of the Taro series! Move away from it! Taro, taro, taro..Enough of it!! Isn’t there anything else!? Something simple! Something that everyone knows!

How about you suggest something then? You were the one who wanted a change of the script, so shouldn’t you suggest something!?

It’s not like I can help it now, can I? Let’s go about this logically. There’s not enough time right not to make an entirely new script. Therefore, it’s only plausible if we go for a story that all of us know; all five of us. In other words, there’s only THAT story.

What’s “that”?

Shakespeare!

Shake...-!?

There’s no way we can go wrong with this. It’s not an exaggeration to say that the entire world knows of his works. It may be embarrassing to act his works out, but there is no easier play to enact in this world than shakespeare. All of his stories are famous beyond famous. So even if we’re only capable of doing a patchy job...Hm? What’s wrong? You’re all being so silent!

Ah!? My…!

Ah...Shakespeare, you say?

Indeed. Which of his stories would you prefer? I’ll let you have the option of at least that much.

Ahh, anything’s fine! Right?

Y-Yeah…! That one’s fine and that one too! Right, Kushinada-san!?

Ah...Yes! The tearful one might be good! They say that nothing’s better than a sob-story, right?

Hm…? Kushinada? Which story are you talking about…?

Ah…That one. You know, the one where someone dies…?

Hm...That’s hard. Most of Shakespeare's works end in tragedy. It’s hard to pin-point which one you’re talking about unless you’re more detailed about it. Isora, which work is he referring to?

Ehh!? W-Which!? The emotional one! You know where the main character dies...or not...or so!

And, you know…! Where the main character falls into despair...or not...or so!?

I...see?

A UFO...UFO!!!

You guys...are you saying that none of you know of Shakespere? Is this how it is, Kagutsuchi?

Urk...I don’t know! Goddamnit! I do know of at least Romeo and Juliet though! But something famous beyond famous!?

S-Sorry...it didn’t really feel like I could deny it...There’s nothing but Shakespere, yeah...actually, Shakespeare, who?

It’s finally out now! I don’t know and it’s hard lying about it like that! Having everything out in the open like this feels much better, right? Right!?

No, all of you were pretty interesting. I never thought that he’d take all of you so seriously when you were all just pretending to have understood whatever he had been going on about. I suppose this is truly what ad-lib acting is!

Sousuke-san, you know about it?

Of course! It would do you good to remember the 4 great tragedies at least! Macbeth, Othello, King Lear, Romeo and Juliet. They’re all also famous beyond their time!

Huh? Amadeus? Learlo? Riaju?

It’s all muddled up, you know.

But! I know at least Romeo and Juliet!

Ahem! “Oh Romeo! Where art thou Roemo!”

Enough! Anyway, Owner. Anything Shakesperaren is out of the cards! It’s simply an impossible undertaking!

Isn’t there anything easier? Something with simple enough lines that all of us know about!?

Kushinada, suggest something.

M-Me!? Then...how about Cinderella or-

Blergh! Don’t you think it’s a little disgusting for all the actors to be men for that?

I don’t particularly mind.

Y-You don’t!?

Ahem! “Cinderella! Please finish cleaning the house up before we return home!”

Hey, Kagutsuchi! Don’t go off starting it all on your own like that! And why in the world are you voicing all the female roles!?

“Oh no! The seams on my dress have come off. Fix it for me!”

Did something like that even happen!?

Well then. “I’m going to the ball! I’ll be leaving the night shift to you then~!”

Aren’t there way too many of her mean sisters here?

“Allow me to magic up this pumpkin…!”

Kushinada…! The fairy godmother has appeared even though Cinderella hasn’t made a debut. Isn’t this bad!?

Hurry, Owner! Cinderella! You’re Cinderella!!

You mean...you’re making…me. Me! You’re making me participate in this...farce?

So, say something?

“Ah...I want to go to the ball too…”

CUUUUUUUT!! Owner! You’re way too despondent about this! Are you even putting your heart in this!?

Don’t turn the tables on me! You had other choices, didn’t you!?

Ehh? But it was proceeding on pretty smoothly!

Kushinada...You haven’t really read Cinderella before, have you? Your fairy godmother seems like it came right out of ‘The man who made flowers bloom’!

Seems like we went a full circle from Momotaro and back again to these old tales.

Did not!!

Argh!! We can’t seem to be able to decide anything at all! And look at the time! Can we really settle this and come up with something new before tomorrow!?

And we said that we’d think of something to base if off since it’s impossible to re-write a script now...but our Cinderella’s practically the original one.

Talk and talk, we did. But we still didn’t decide anything in the end…

Enough. Let’s just stick to the undead story…

That’s right! All we can do now is to do our best with the lines that we’ve already memorised!

Humph. In other words, we were all thrown for a loop...only to come back to the original story about the undead. I suppose there’s nothing we can do about it. It was a mistake to attempt changing out act on such short notice. So let’s go with the undead story. However, let’s change at least the ending.

The ending? Oh! You mean the dance part?

Yes! There’s that too, but this entire story’s ending is way too big for my taste. I’d rather it end off properly, you know?

Then, can’t we just end it off when the undead disappears into the forest? Everything else along with the dance should only come after that.

Right! That’s precisely it! We can’t change too much, else it’ll become a flop.

Let’s do that then! We’ve all already memorized our lines anyway so we’ll only be writing off the big celebration and dance.

What a pity~ The dance was pretty interesting too!

I don’t mind the dance...not really, anyway…

Really!?

Hmmmmmmm? You seem to have all your lines down to pat. Now, now, Yuzuki-sama…?

Did he perfect his dance too!?

I...It was only my responsibility, having taken up this job.

That’s amazing, Owner! I admire actors like that with the hardworking trait! They don’t only remember their own lines, but they also go out of their way to remember everybody’s!

I don’t have to?

Amazing! Owner, you’re a blessing from the gods! A natural-born actor!

No, he’s just a veteran.

The celebration’s a no-go but the dance gets a pass! Alright, once more from the top!

I’ll follow after you, Owner!

Scene 18: Flurin Cafe, start!

Who is it? Hurry and name yourself!

I can’t believe it...There’s a murderer among us?

Don’t do this, please! It’s not good to be suspecting each other like this...I can’t...I can’t stand doing this!

You can’t be joking, right? Are you serious? And in the first place…

Yeah. I’m dead serious. There’s certainly someone here among us who’s a murderer, wearing the facade of a human; an undead who has returned to the living.

Wait, hold up!

What is it now, Isora!? Why are you stopping us again!?

Thinking it through, nothing’s been settled at all! I don’t want to act as the undead! I don’t want to!

You were the one who lost at rock-paper-scissors!

What a sore loser…

Um...we’re repeating the same pattern again..

You have it good, Hino-kun. You have a line that goes “YOU are the undead!!”. I have it pretty hard on the other hand...I mean, what is this line!? “Hehehehe. There’s nothing I can do now that I’ve been found out. I’m the undead that has just been introduced by yours truly, Isora!” This isn’t a vow in a marriage or anything like that!

No good...This doesn’t seem like it’ll get itself settled anytime soon...

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ourladyofperpetualnaptime · 4 years

Text

Samuel Beckett - “Enough” (1965)

All that goes before forget. Too much at a time is too much. That gives the pen time to note. I don’t see it but I hear it there behind me. Such is the silence. When the pen stops I go on. Sometimes it refuses. When it refuses I go on. Too much silence is too much. Or it’s my voice too weak at times. The one that comes out of me. So much for the art and craft.

I did all he desired. I desired it too. For him. Whenever he desired something so did I. He only had to say what thing. When he didn’t desire anything neither did I. In this way I didn’t live without desires. If he had desired something for me I would have desired it too. Happiness for example or fame. I only had the desires he manifested. But he must have manifested them all. All his desires and needs. When he was silent he must have been like me. When he told me to lick his penis I hastened to do so. I drew satisfaction from it. We must have had the same satisfactions. The same needs and the same satisfactions.

One day he told me to leave him. It’s the verb he used. He must have been on his last legs. I don’t know if by that he meant me to leave him for good or only to step aside a moment. I never asked myself the question. I never asked myself any questions but his. Whatever it was he meant I made off without looking back. Gone from reach of his voice I was gone from his life. Perhaps it was that he desired. There are questions you see and don’t ask yourself. He must have been on his last legs. I on the contrary was far from on my last legs. I belonged to an entirely different generation. It didn’t last. Now that I’m entering night I have kinds of gleams in my skull. Stony ground but not entirely. Given three or four lives I might have accomplished something.

I cannot have been more than six when he took me by the hand. Barely emerging from childhood. But it didn’t take me long to emerge altogether. It was the left hand. To be on the right was more than he could bear. We advanced side by side hand in hand. One pair of gloves was enough. The free or outer hands hung bare. He did not like to feel against his skin the skin of another. Mucous membrane is a different matter. Yet he sometimes took off his glove. Then I had to take off mine. We would cover in this way a hundred yards or so linked by our bare extremities. Seldom more. That was enough for him. If the question were put to me I would say that odd hands are ill-fitted for intimacy. Mine never felt at home in his. Sometimes they let each other go. The clasp loosened and they fell apart. Whole minutes often passed before they clasped again. Before his clasped mine again.

They were cotton gloves rather tight. Far from blunting the shapes they sharpened them by simplifying. Mine was naturally too loose for years. But it didn’t take me long to fill it. He said I had Aquarius hands. It’s a mansion above.

All I know comes from him. I won’t repeat this apropos of all my bits of knowledge. The art of combining is not my fault. It’s a curse from above. For the rest I would suggest not guilty.

Our meeting. Though very bowed already he looked a giant to me. In the end his trunk ran parallel with the ground. To counterbalance this anomaly he held his legs apart and sagged at the knees. His feet grew more and more flat and splay. His horizon was the ground they trod. Tiny moving carpet of turf and trampled flowers. He gave me his hand like a tired old ape with the elbow lifted as high as it would go. I had only to straighten up to be head and shoulders above him. One day he halted and fumbling for his words explained to me that anatomy is a whole.

In the beginning he always spoke walking. So it seems to me now. Then sometimes walking and sometimes still. In the end still only. And the voice getting fainter all the time. To save him having to say the same thing twice running I bowed right down. He halted and waited for me to get into position. As soon as out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed my head alongside his the murmurs came. Nine times out of ten they did not concern me. But he wished everything to be heard including the ejaculations and broken paternosters that he poured out to the flowers at his feet.

He halted then and waited for my head to arrive before telling me to leave him. I snatched away my hand and made off without looking back. Two steps and I was lost to him for ever. We were severed if that is what he desired.

His talk was seldom of geodesy. But we must have covered several times the equivalent of the terrestrial equator. At an average speed of roughly three miles per day and night. We took flight in arithmetic. What mental calculations bent double hand in hand! Whole ternary numbers we raised in this way to the third power sometimes in downpours of rain. Graving themselves in his memory as best they could the ensuing cubes accumulated. In view of the converse operation at a later stage. When time would have done its work.

If the question were put to me suitably framed I would say yes indeed the end of this long outing was my life. Say about the last seven thousand miles. Counting from the day when alluding for the first time to his infirmity he said he thought it had reached its peak. The future proved him right. That part of it at least we were to make past of together.

I see the flowers at my feet and it’s the others I see. Those we trod down with equal step. It is true they are the same.

Contrary to what I had long been pleased to imagine he was not blind. Merely indolent. One day he halted and fumbling for his words described his vision. He concluded by saying he thought it would get no worse. How far this was not a delusion I cannot say. I never asked myself the question. When I bowed down to receive his communications I felt on my eye a glint of blue bloodshot apparently affected.

He sometimes halted without saying anything. Either he had finally nothing to say or while having something to say he finally decided not to say it. I bowed down as usual to save him having to repeat himself and we remained in this position. Bent double heads touching silent hand in hand. While all about us fast on one another the minutes flew. Sooner or later his foot broke away from the flowers and we moved on. Perhaps only to halt again after a few steps. So that he might say at last what was in his heart or decide not to say it again.

Other main examples suggest themselves to the mind. Immediate continuous communication with immediate redeparture. Same thing with delayed redeparture. Delayed continuous communication with immediate redeparture. Same thing with delayed redeparture. Immediate discontinuous communication with immediate redeparture. Same thing with delayed redeparture. Delayed discontinuous communication with immediate redeparture. Same thing with delayed redeparture.

It is then I shall have lived then or never. Ten years at the very least. From the day he drew the back of his left hand lingeringly over his sacral ruins and launched his prognostic. To the day of my supposed disgrace. I can see the place a step short of the crest. Two steps forward and I was descending the other slope. If I had looked back I would not have seen him.

He loved to climb and therefore I too. He clamoured for the steepest slopes. His human frame broke down into two equal segments. This thanks to the shortening of the lower by the sagging knees. On a gradient of one in one his head swept the ground. To what this taste was due I cannot say. To love of the earth and the flowers’ thousand scents and hues. Or to cruder imperatives of an anatomical order. He never raised the question. The crest once reached alas the going down again.

In order from time to time to enjoy the sky he resorted to a little round mirror. Having misted it with his breath and polished it on his calf he looked in it for the constellations. I have it! he exclaimed referring to the Lyre or the Swan. And often he added that the sky seemed much the same.

We were not in the mountains however. There were times I discerned on the horizon a sea whose level seemed higher than ours. Could it be the bed of some vast evaporated lake or drained of its waters from below? I never asked myself the question.

The fact remains we often came upon this sort of mound some three hundred feet in height. Reluctantly I raised my eyes and discerned the nearest often on the horizon. Or instead of moving on from the one we had just descended we ascended it again.

I am speaking of our last decade comprised between the two events described. It veils those that went before and must have resembled it like blades of grass. To those engulfed years it is reasonable to impute my education. For I don’t remember having learnt anything in those I remember. It is with this reasoning I calm myself when brought up short by all I know.

I set the scene of my disgrace just short of a crest. On the contrary it was on the flat in a great calm. If I had looked back I would have seen him in the place where I had left him. Some trifle would have shown me my mistake if mistake there had been. In the years that followed I did not exclude the possibility of finding him again. In the place where I had left him if not elsewhere. Or of hearing him call me. At the same time telling myself he was on his last legs. But I did not count on it unduly. For I hardly raised my eyes from the flowers. And his voice was spent. And as if that were not enough I kept telling myself he was on his last legs. So it did not take me long to stop counting on it altogether.

I don’t know what the weather is now. But in my life it was eternally mild. As if the earth had come to rest in spring. I am thinking of our hemisphere. Sudden pelting downpours overtook us. Without noticeable darkening of the sky. I would not have noticed the windlessness if he had not spoken of it. Of the wind that was no more. Of the storms he had ridden out. It is only fair to say there was nothing to sweep away. The very flowers were stemless and flush with the ground like water-lilies. No brightening our buttonholes with these.

We did not keep tally of the days. If I arrive at ten years it is thanks to our pedometer. Total milage divided by average daily milage. So many days. Divide. Such a figure the night before the sacrum. Such another the eve of my disgrace. Daily average always up to date. Subtract. Divide.

Night. As long as day in this endless equinox. It falls and we go on. Before dawn we are gone.

Attitude at rest. Wedged together bent in three. Second right angle at the knees. I on the inside. We turn over as one man when he manifests the desire. I can feel him at night pressed against me with all his twisted length. It was less a matter of sleeping than of lying down. For we walked in a half sleep. With his upper hand he held and touched me where he wished. Up to a certain point. The other was twined in my hair. He murmured of things that for him were no more and for me could not have been. The wind in the overground stems. The shade and shelter of the forests.

He was not given to talk. An average of a hundred words per day and night. Spaced out. A bare million in all. Numerous repeats. Ejaculations. Too few for even a cursory survey. What do I know of man’s destiny? I could tell you more about radishes. For them he had a fondness. If I saw one I would name it without hesitation.

We lived on flowers. So much for sustenance. He halted and without having to stoop caught up a handful of petals. Then moved munching on. They had on the whole a calming action. We were on the whole calm. More and more. All was. This notion of calm comes from him. Without him I would not have had it. Now I’ll wipe out everything but the flowers. No more rain. No more mounds. Nothing but the two of us dragging through the flowers. Enough my old breasts feel his old hand.

#samuel beckett #beckett

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catflowerqueen · 4 years

Note

Oh, just now noticed your other writing prompts, but how about "the truth behind Laura's scary story"? If you still feel like doing those, of course!

The Truth Behind Laura’s Scary Story

So, this took me... a few hours. Hours in which I probably should have been working on my paper for Monday... but ah well. I’ll just do that after I eat dinner.

It is extremely spoiler filled, so proceed with caution. It is also around fifteen pages long.

Enjoy.

All legends contain a kernel of truth, and this one is no different.

Once upon a time, there was a husband and wife. They were deeply in love, but still very unhappy, for they did not have children. While the goddess they worshipped only had domain over time and space, not fertility, there were other deities out there in the Pantheon, and there was no harm to praying to one that did. So the wife prayed every day for a miracle and was ecstatic when her wish was granted and she gave birth to triplets: A beautiful, eldest boy, and two little girls—identical twin sisters. Their parents were overjoyed, as the children seemed perfect in every way.

…Well, every way but one. Unfortunately, they had inherited their father’s bad genetics when it came to their eyes: they all had coloboma of the iris. They were a bit larger than usual, and the parents feared initially that it may be edging into aniridia territory, but, thankfully, the doctor determined that it just looked like that because the babies’ eyes were still small and developing. So while they would end up with some parts of their irises missing, it wouldn’t be enough that they would suffer too many vision problems—especially if their parents were careful and got them floppy hats and sunglasses to shade and protect their eyes (note—I am not an ophthalmologist or optometrist, I have no idea if this medically correct, though I do know those two conditions exist and cause some interesting and sometimes debilitating eye problems). It was a bit of a shame that it obscured their pretty, baby-blue eyes though. But their mother had the same blue eyes as an adult, so at least a bit of that beautiful color would probably stay with them for the rest of their lives.

They named the boy Eugene, the youngest girl Jessica, and, the eldest girl… well, the eldest girl was to have a very special name. You see, Relatia’s people were in a period of transition. A few months after her 92nd birthday, the Previous Rainbow Child died peacefully in her sleep. No muss or fuss or overt tragedy—she was just old, and it was her time to go. But today, ah, today was the date that she always returned, and while seven months wasn’t quite long enough for a baby to grow to full term, it was still sufficient for a life to survive, and even thrive, under the right conditions, so she was guaranteed to be born somewhere in the world today. Sure, despite many girls being born among Relatia’s people on this day, none had the characteristic Rainbow eyes, but that happened sometimes. The last Rainbow Child, for instance, had been born in a place called “France,” and search parties had to be sent out to find her and bring her back to her true people, so that’s what would happen this time as well. …Hopefully the searchers that were sent this time would be smarter and kinder about it. Relatia had not been pleased when she found out that the searchers she had sent had basically grabbed the child from the middle of the park she was playing in—without informing her parents, or getting their permission. That… had not been pretty, especially since it took a few months for her to be informed of this since obviously the searchers weren’t going to tell her, and the nascent Rainbow Child could not speak English yet. The point was, today was a propitious day, as the period of tense waiting, almost a second mourning, was finally ended, and people could start transitioning into a more welcoming mode and prepare the new generation for the ascension in 13 years. And as it was such a propitious day, and the couple decide to gift their eldest daughter with the popular and propitious name of “Laura.”

I feel it is important to note here that there are many signs that point towards a Rainbow Child. There are the obvious ones such as the Birthday and eye color, and, yes, even the name at times, depending on where she came from/who gave it to her, but those are not always the best ways to tell. As evidenced here, many girls and boys can share a Birthday, and a name… and since eye color is dependent on the iris, even—at least partially, since high amounts of spiritual power/aura can also affect things—in the case of the Rainbow Child… if there is a physical problem with her eyes like, say, coloboma (or turning into a treecko, in one notable case), then one cannot depend on the obvious signs. The eyes may be the window to the soul, but it’s really hard to see things clearly if the window is dirty or broken. In this case, one has to depend on the invisible signs. Among them are the common—love of heights and painting—as well as the uncommon—i.e., the Dimensional Scream ability.

So imagine the parents shock when, at age five, little Jessica came home from a day of play with her siblings, crying about something scary she saw earlier—one of their close neighbors tripping over a rock and getting a bloody gash on his forehead. Of course, the girl’s mother immediately went next door to check on him, and he was perfectly fine. So she scolded her little girl for telling falsehoods… and then had to apologize the next day when the man came home from the healer’s with a bandaged head from where he tripped over a rock and cut a bloody gash in it.

So little Eugene, Laura, and Jessica’s parents immediately took Jessica to the high priest/ess, who called for Relatia, and, lo and behold, it was determined that Jessica was, in fact, the nascent Rainbow Child.

At this point, any sane parent would tell their little girl what was going on, right? If not that she was the actual Rainbow Child—since that is, admittedly, a lot of responsibility to heap on a five year old who doesn’t even know how to read yet—then at least that they found out something special about her, and that in the future she would need some extra lessons in order to help her understand some things and make sure that things were easier for her when she was older, and that of course they loved and cared for her brother and sister just as much as they always had, and, y’know, it might not be a half bad idea to offer them some more lessons and training as well, since the bond between siblings is often very strong and this is going to have a big impact on them in future? Well, you would be right.

Unfortunately, these were not any sane parents, and while there was no doubt that they loved their children, all their children, just as much has they did before, the prospect of having a famous child and more direct attention from their goddess went way, way to their heads. So they decided that their first course of action was to force their daughters to switch names. And then not tell them why. And then force the new Laura into some intensive training and classes… and not tell any of their kids why, or what they were for.

This, of course, led to extreme jealousy and hurt in the new Jessica, who had liked her old name and didn’t understand why her sister got to take both it and a lot more of Mommy and Daddy’s attention, and confusion, jealousy, and hurt from the new Laura, who didn’t want a new name, and who wanted to be able to go and play outside all day like she used to, like her siblings still could, like they were all supposed to since Mommy and Daddy had said they wouldn’t start school until they were six. And poor, poor Eugene was pretty much shuffled off to the side—a bit jealous at the lack of attention, but mostly upset that it meant he was the only available target for the new Jessica’s anger and unhappiness since, again, his parents and other sister were now sequestered away a lot of the time.

The siblings’ relationship only deteriorated from there—though there were some moments of unity and closeness, where they decided to just forgo their parents’ names altogether and call each other by special nicknames. Iris, for the new Jessica, because of the coloboma messing with her irises. Pupil for the new Laura, both because it was a play on the eye condition she shared with her sister and the alternate definition of the word—a student—because of how much of her time was now spent studying. Genie for Eugene, since they couldn’t think of any more eye puns and Pupil shared the same sorts of nicknaming conventions that her eventual successor would have—which, really, should have been another early indicator of who she was, as she had practically forced everyone to call her “Jessie” when her legal name had still been Jessica.

But, again, though these small moments of unity existed, they were not enough to save the close relationship the siblings once had—one close enough that they used to count as her partners when it came to the Dimensional Scream. But gradually those slowed down as trust was lost. Jealously can lead people to act very badly, and, in a desperate bid for attention, Iris would often act out causing problems and then blaming them on her sister. One would think that it would be obvious who exactly was acting out… but biases can do strange things to people as well. It isn’t uncommon to assume that children in positions of power will act like spoiled brats sometimes, so everyone assumed that the position of Rainbow Child had just gone to Pupil’s head, and made her act bratty—so, really, punishing her was a good thing, as it would teach her the humility she would need when she actually grew into her power. Of course, because the adults all knew who she was, as did the children when they turned 13, they forgot that Pupil would not assume she was anything other than an average child—albeit one with the Dimensional Scream ability—and so would have no idea the scrutiny her actions were put under. Complaints about the unfair treatment would, of course, only further the idea that she was a good-for-nothing brat who needed to learn some responsibility, and that her sister—who was, in reality, the true perpetrator of the misdeeds—was a real trooper, a little angel, and it must be so hard for her to try and resist her sister’s temptations, so of course a little misbehavior here and there is acceptable. She probably just wants some attention.

Genie, of course, was stuck between a rock and a hard place, because on the one hand, he actually bothered to check and differentiate between his sisters and knew who was really misbehaving—in part because Iris was quickly becoming a bully and would coerce him into helping her—so he knew that a lot of the treatment towards Pupil was unfair. On the other hand… going along with Iris’ plans still netted him some positive attention. And stopped her from punching him. So as much as he tried to play mediator or throw Pupil the occasional bone… he started to become a little bit of a bully as well. And yet… those occasional bones did let him continue to act as a Dimensional Scream partner, even if the resulting visions were far weaker than they should have been… but that only furthered the problems of the sibling dynamics.

Of course, pretty much all of this went over Relatia’s head, because everyone was nothing but doting towards Pupil whenever the goddess was around—which definitely caused some emotional whiplash—and the siblings actually genuinely got along more-or-less when she was around, because she loved to spend time with all of them—even if she still favored Pupil. She thought it was great that this Rainbow Child had a built-in set of friends and allies, and that she didn’t have to be lonely when Relatia was away. And no one—not even the children—would ever dare tell her otherwise because… well, she was a goddess. And even though she was typically benevolent, there were tons of stories about how volatile her temper could get, and exactly what happened when she was unhappy, and even if the kids didn’t really understand her interest, they knew enough to read the room and mood and determine for themselves that it probably wouldn’t end well for the majority of the townsfolk if they found out exactly what was going on when she wasn’t around.

But Relatia at least noticed enough to see that pupil was getting more stressed as she got older, even if she didn’t really know the cause, so when she and her siblings were about 12, she decided that she would take this nascent Rainbow Child on the traditional, at least once a lifetime Rainbow Child trip to the Pokémon World—maybe even extending the trip long enough for her to ascend there, if she seemed to be having a good time. So she packed everyone up and they headed to the pokemon world, arriving at the home of one of her liasons—a ninetales with an extremely powerful and potent grasp on the Dimensional Scream.

She had the group stay there for a little bit since the trip was short notice and those worshippers who lived in the pokemon world—human and pokemon alike—weren’t prepared for such a big group. This… was probably a mistake. Well, it was definitely a mistake, especially given what would happen later, but what was more of a mistake is the fact that Relatia didn’t stick around for introductions or instructions beyond “Don’t let these people die or wander away into the freezing cold mountains,” so Ninetales had no idea that the nascent Rainbow Child was part of the group. Or that she had two siblings—one of whom was an identical twin. Or that said twin had a wildly different personality to her given their upbringing, and that the reason she no longer really went out of her way to try and talk to people or start conversations was because she didn’t really expect kindness or belief any more from anyone who wasn’t Relatia or—occasionally—her siblings (meaning her brother, typically). Least of all from a strange adult pokemon who looked intimidating (as both an adult and as a pokemon in general, since this was Pupil’s first time seeing one in real life) and was already annoyed at having to play host to a bunch of strangers. The kids’ bratty behavior did not endear them to her at all—in Iris’ case because she was the one actually acting bratty and rude and in Genie’s case because he wasn’t stopping her, and Ninetales was too proud to deign to look beneath the surface and realize that it was out of fear of his sister’s behavior. And Pupil was so quiet as to be beneath her notice—Ninetales literally had no idea she was there, as any glimpses she saw she attributed to actually being glimpses of Iris—in part because Pupil was too nervous to really venture far from her parents while Iris had no such compunctions and basically went wherever she pleased in the cave—and assumed that these moments of silent staring and not acknowledging her complaints, lectures, and warnings, were more bouts of rudeness rather than a completely separate person who had no idea what she was talking about. Ninetales was glad when Relatia finally came back for them and she was left alone. She never wanted them to come back, ever, and swore that she wouldn’t help them of her own volition if they ever did come back.

Luckily, the group of people that Relatia took them to next had actually been prepped about the visitors’ identities and were very happy and willing to meet with everyone. They were also more open to people in general, and actually took the time to look beneath the surface and differentiate between the siblings. They didn’t put up with any of Iris’ nonsense, as they knew very well who was really causing all the trouble. But they still weren’t quite able to get to the bottom of the spoiled relationship or realize just how rotten it had become, nor did they bother to inform the parents about what was up—other than some raised eyebrows whenever the adults tried to claim that Pupil was in any way a brat.

There were also some pokemon in the group who became especially close to the triplets. A shuppet at first became close friends with Pupil, a gardevoir would become close with Genie, and a haunter would initially be interested in Iris. She was not very happy with this, especially when the haunter realized what a jerk she was and started to keep more of a distance and the shuppet realized that Iris had way more jealously that Pupil did and became fixated on her due to out of fascination/mild hunger. The gardevoir friendship was extremely unexpected… at least as first. But it became clearer as Genie could afford to let his walls down more in this new world, and could actually escape from Iris for a bit and act like a real brother to Pupil without fear of retribution. And Gardevoir could sense that from the beginning. Pupil, of course, was enthralled to find people who actually liked her and were nice to her… but she was still shy and wary. The siblings had a lot more free time in general in this world, in part because the whole thing was basically being treated as a learning experience for Pupil anyways and she was so close to ascension that formal lessons could be held off for now… as well as the fact the pokemon were subtly keeping her parents and the others from the human world away from her as much as possible since they could tell that something was wrong. Relatia was also too busy to keep that many tabs on her, since she had taken the group to some of her worshippers who lived in a different region than the Golden Child did—meaning she hadn’t had as much contact with them as she probably should, and the smaller amount of Time Gears in the area made things a bit more volatile in general. It was something of a work in progress, and the Golden Child was too busy with other things to join them right away.

This meant that it was fairly easy for Pupil to slip away to just hang out with her brother and gardevoir—and to start having Dimensional Screams again now that she could trust him better. She particularly liked hanging out on top of a cliff/bluff overlooking the sea—because the Rainbow Child is always fixated on tall things, the ocean, and combinations therof. This would eventually come back to bite her, hard, when Iris finally found out where she was going, about a week before their thirteenth birthday.

She was not happy. At all. Not with the fact that she wasn’t invited, not with the way things were going in general, not with how unfair and terrible all three of her siblings’ lives had been up to that point. So she took it out on Pupil, Pupil finally gained enough confidence to fight back, Genie tried to intervene because, despite everything, he really did love both his sisters, and, well…

The fact that they didn’t know whose fault it ultimately was would haunt them for the rest of their lives. Did Iris push her? Did Genie? Did she simply lose her footing? …Did she finally decide she couldn’t handle it any more and jump off herself?

Whatever the cause, the effect was Pupil, lying at the bottom of the cliff, blood everywhere… unconscious, but not quite dead. Not yet. And the very world itself seemed frantic to keep it that way. A Rainbow Child had never yet died before ascension, after all, and no one knew quite what would happen if Pupil was the first.

Iris freaked out and ran away, back to camp, both to try and hide the evidence and because she was horrified by what happened since, deep down, she still loved her sister dearly. But the others stayed. Haunter forced himself to evolve into Gengar so that he would be able to grab Pupil’s spirit and force it back if it tried to leave her body. Shuppet did his best to help. And Gardevoir somehow, someway used her powers to call for help—grabbing the greatest rescuer ever—a Lucario—from a distant time in order to help their group make it back to camp—not realizing at the time that she was actually creating a bit of a paradox, as it would be this rescue which would cement him in history as the greatest long before he was even born. As well as… one other effect, which would not become apparent until later, and which neither of them would probably realize the significance of in the aftermath. At least, not right away.

But in any case, they made it back to camp after an arduous journey. The Lucario was sent to his proper time once more. Pupil remained clinging to life by the barest threads, but it was hard. And Gengar and Shuppet were exhausted from their efforts. But they couldn’t exactly hand the task off to anyone else at this point, because the thread was so delicate that an attempt would likely snap it. Instead, some sort of power-up or psychic boost would be more helpful. Which is when Shuppet remembered that he’d heard something about ninetales’ tails being full of psychic energy—even down to the smallest bit of fur, and Genie remembered where a ninetales lived, and Garevoir remembered where she could acquire the TM for the move Teleport.

But none of them remembered that Ninetales all but hated Genie and his sister, nor did they realize that she had no idea that he had more than two.

Genie made it back, holding some fur which was full of psychic energy—and also, though unknown to him, slightly cursed. Gardevoir did not. And Genie refused to tell anyone what happened. Just as he, Iris, and the

But the fur worked, despite the curse. Though it did leave somewhat of an imprint of the events seared into Pupil’s unconscious psyche… a distorted version always staiying just in the back of mind, transcending all her lives in the form of a scary story. And she even woke up one last time, the morning of her thirteenth birthday, when energy coursed through her as she ascended. She didn’t have much time left, but what little time she did she used to bless her siblings.

For, you see, all legends have kernels of truth within in them, even as they become distorted over time. According to legend, Relatia is the one who charged the Time Gears. According to legend, Relatia is the one who blessed the Rainbow Child with the gift of reincarnation. But the truth is that Relatia had nothing to do with it—the Rainbow Child did both things all on her own. And she could tell that there was curse nearby, even if she was too out of it to determine which sibling it had been laid on. And she wanted another chance to know them, when their relationship wasn’t so tainted by what had happened in this life. So… she gave them a blessing. A small twist on the curse. One chance at reincarnation. One hope that they would meet again. No knowledge if she had done enough to let them remember, or if she—or the curse—would leave their memories in a state similar to hers whenever she reincarnated. And then she died.

And then her siblings found out that she was the Rainbow Child. And realized how much their lives had been ruined, despite knowing how much love persisted in their family, despite the rot. And Relatia took everyone home, and decided that it was too dangerous for the Rainbow Child to visit other worlds, and that she was too upset by this experience and wouldn’t come of her own volition anymore either—only if someone called her for help, like if Temporal Tower started to decay.

So people in the pokemon world gradually forgot the legends, and no one thought to call her when Temporal Tower started crumbling. And the Spirit Trio forgot the true purpose of the Time Gears. And when a Rainbow Child did finally return, it was nearly a thousand years later—possibly longer, since it’s kind of hard to tell how many years have actually passed when the world is paralyzed and the pokemon in charge of time has gone insane.

Meanwhile, upon return to the human world, Iris bolted pretty much immediately. She ran away from home and from her people as soon as she could, and no one really tried to stop her—beyond ensuring the typical protections so that Relatia’s people could remain secret and safe—and no one ever found out what happened to her. So her parents essentially lost both their daughters.

Genie stayed. He actually became an acolyte and guard… and fourteen or so years later, he met a blonde girl with eyes like rainbows, on the day of her ascension as the Rainbow Child. She was looking for her little brother, who had run away during preparations for her and her family’s parade through the crowd as part of the ceremony, since he was embarrassed and ashamed to show his facial scars to everyone in the crowd—facial scars which he shared with his sister, from the fire that killed their parents and was started when their alcoholic cousin, who was visiting at the time, fell asleep on the couch while smoking a cigarette. She and her brother had been living with their grandparents when she was found, and her grandparents had actually been very happy to bring the remains of their little family over to join Relatia’s people, as they thought a bit of change would be good for their darling grandchildren after all the trauma they’d endured. But she was still trying to get used to things—especially the new language, and the fact that everyone’s first instinct was to call her by a different name, “Laura,” than the one she’d used all her life, and she knew that her brother would still be in the same boat, and now hopelessly lost on top of everything else, so if Genie could please help her, that would be really great.

Genie asked if she recognized him. She said his outfit looked kind of familiar? Maybe she’d seen him around the temple? But that was it.

He asked for a posting in a temple far away, maybe by the portals which the Rainbow Child was now forbidden to visit?

His request was granted, and he lived a long, if quiet, life, and died peacefully in his sleep.

And nearly a thousand years later, he was reincarnated as a ghastly, with no memories of his former life until he turned thirteen and began remembering more, little by little. Starting with the fact that he used to be human.

And it wasn’t until the curse of Gardevoir—and the remnants on him which his former incarnation’s sister’s blessing couldn’t fully remove—that he started to remember he had siblings.

And it wasn’t until much, much later, that he began to remember everything that happened that fateful day on the cliff.

But he still never found out what caused his sister to fall.

But by that point… it didn’t really matter any more.

#pokemon mystery dungeon #explorers of sky #rescue team #the world's treasure #spoilers #fanfiction #writing

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gwenore · 6 years

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Binding Circle. Part 2.

Part 2: Barbara speaks with the changeling about the fate of Walter Strickler.

Summary: Barbara struggles after her love left her and her young son Jim all of the sudden, as if he had vanished into thin air. One night she gets a package with a strange books which suggest he has been trapped in the Darklands and the only way to find out what has happened is to summon a changeling and bind it to her will.

You will never see him again…

Those words rang through Barbara’s head as she looked into those glowing yellow eyes. She then shook her head determined.

“No! I refuse to believe that is true!” she insisted.

“Well… it doesn’t matter much if you believe it or not. The truth cares little for what you think should be,” the creature hissed towards her.

“Just go find him!” she stepped closer to the circle, once again met with that mocking chuckle.

“Oh, yes… just… release me from the circle and I will go right down to the Darklands and fetch him for you, it will take about five minutes,” the changeling moved his hand in an exaggerated movement.

“You are mocking me,” Barbara gritted her teeth.

“Of course I am because you are being ridiculous. Tell me, what do you think the Darklands are? You think it is just to go down there and get someone out? No. It does not work like that. The Darklands are bigger than your pitiful human world. It is massive beyond recognition. Filled with all the horrors that you told yourself could not exist as a small child when you feared the monster under your bed. I assure you, human. They are all real. Because I have seen them. And one thing. The Darklands do not let people go. It digs its claws into them, never wanting to relinquish what is given to the world of the sun,” the changeling moved as close to the boundary as he could as he made certain to look deep into her blue eyes. Barbara felt her heart almost skip a beat as she looked fearfully into those glowing eyes.

“So… it is my suggestion that you should forget about him. Human lives are short, no use spending your limited days mourning over him. I am quite certain you can find someone else. Perhaps not the best judge, but I certainly find you… enchanting,” the creature grinned as Barbara felt a slight chill go down her back. The changeling clearly saw her reaction as a low growling chuckle came past those sharp teeth.

“I will not abandon him!” Barbara stepped even closer, refusing to show her fear to this creature.

“Hm… why not? He abandoned you did he not?” the changeling teased her. Barbara stopped, clutching her hand over her chest.

“No… it was not like that…” she defended herself.

“Wasn’t it? How do you think he got stuck in the Darklands? You think… what was he? History teacher was it? I assure you, normal boring men hardly get trapped in that place nor know about these things in the first place. Know I speak the truth that no one who is in the Darklands is there without reason,” the changeling cocked his head slightly as he grinded his long teeth together. “Besides… what did you really know about this man that you claim to love?”

“I knew him! He is a good man!” Barbara countered.

“Oh? Truly? You did not know he was involved in this did you?” the changeling chuckled teasingly. “Also… where was he from? Have you met anyone from his past? Who his family is? Do you know ANYTHING about his life before this town?”

A glee came upon the changeling’s face as he saw the doubt growing on the human woman’s face.

“Ah… I see. I was right, was I not? You really know nothing about this man whom you claim to be good. I am sorry to disappoint you, because he was nothing remotely like a good man. Good men does not abandon the ones that they claim to love after all. I assure you that Walter Strickler is exactly where he belongs,” the changeling continued.

Barbara shook her head as if she tried to get rid of the words that had seemingly burrowed their way into her head.

“No, he left because he had to, he told me,” she insisted.

“Well… perhaps he had too, but just because you have no choice does not make you innocent. As I said. No good men get trapped in the Darklands,” the changeling rolled his eyes.

“Who took him to the Darklands?” Barbara continued her questioning.

“He took himself to the Darklands… then again if you are looking for the changeling to blame… I suppose that would be me,” he explained as he rolled his wrist slightly.

“You…” the word seemed to fell out of her mouth.

“Yes, I am the reason why you will never see him again,” the changeling licked his tusks slightly. Barbara could hardly believe what she had been told as anger and rage was filling her blue eyes.

“You… abandoned him in that horrible place?” she then said. He did not answer her, simply letting out a low chuckle.

Barbara clutched her wrist against the side of her head, twisting a couple of strands of her auburn hair between her fingers as her entire body was trembling. This… monster was the reason why the man she loved was trapped in that hell. Why her son had been waiting by the door every night for someone who would not come and the reason for so many tears both he and she had shed. All because of this… monster! This monster who had ripped apart what could have been.

She wanted to strangle him, just about closed the distance when she remembered what the book had warned her about.

That she must not cross into the circle.

If she did he was able to get to her. So she stood there… unable to get the revenge she wanted so dearly. The changeling stepped as close as he could, making certain to be as close to her as the circle allowed him.

“Now how about you send me back to that place… unless you want to come with me… it is certainly something that you could order me to do… but fair warning, the moment that I leave this circle I am no longer bound to you, so… well… I suppose you can imagine. So far you have proven to be far more clever than the average human,” the being explained.

“No… but if you brought him to that place you know where he is!” she realized the implication of his words.

“Well… I know where he is, but that does not mean that I can bring the man you knew back. That man is gone,” the changeling sneered towards her. Barbara felt tears start to form in her eyes, now hardly being able to look at him.

“So you killed him?” she then asked, her voice now trembling with anger and grief.

“Hm… you may say I killed the man you thought that you knew. I might as well have, because… know that what I say is true… there is no way to bring that man back. He is gone and he is never coming back,” the changeling sneered towards her. Barbara stood there swallowing as she closed her eyes.

The image of that man she had fallen for surfaced from her memories. She remembered when they had met in that coffee shop by the hospital, when Jim had ran up to this middle aged man who was simply reading the paper. Promptly the young boy… who had been so shy, but was clearly missing his father had started to ramble on about all sort of things. Instead of shooing the boy away like most who simply wanted to take their coffee in peace when reading the paper would have, the man put down the paper and spoke with her son, who light up with excitement.

She had attempted to excuse her son, but he had simply shaken his head, and said that he appreciated the company, that he took his coffee alone most days and this proved to be a very pleasant distraction. He invited both of them to sit by his table as the small coffee place was already quite full.

This was the day that she met the man named Walter Strickler. She had given him her number and they had met up at that coffee shop and it was there that they had shared their first kiss. He never minded the times where she had to bring Jim along, and Jim was always excited for when he was able to meet with Walter.

At Jim’s birthday Walter had given him a big plush green dragon and since then Jim would never go anywhere without it. The day when it had to be put in the washer since he and Toby had decided it was a good idea to give it a mud bath, Jim would sit and watch it in there, just to make certain that it was alright, refusing to go to bed without it.

Of course perhaps it was foolish of her… there weren’t even that much time that had really passed, but all she could think about was the future of all of them being a family. It was really all that she had ever really wanted.

But then…

There was no longer any word for him. He was gone.

Her eyes then opened again to look into the despicable yellow eyes of this… creature. This wretch of the worst kind.

He had ripped all that away from her and now stood here and mocked her.

“Oh, if looks could kill,” the creature said as he chuckled lowly. “Now that you know that Walter Strickler cannot ever return… how about you release me back into the darkness where I belong?”

Again the anger flared up within Barbara. That this creature would go unpunished for taking such a great man from the world. For practically killing him.

“No,” she then said firmly.

“No?” the changeling cocked his head.

“No. I won’t send you back. If he is stuck in that place, you are stuck in that circle, right here and I will not release you,” she sneered. The changeling looked surprised for a moment before a low chuckle came from his mouth.

“Oh, you intend on keeping a changeling in your basement? That is certainly an… interesting prospect,” the changeling chuckled.

“If he is trapped in that place because of you… I will trap you in here for as long as I can,” Barbara vowed in that moment. The changeling moved his jaw slightly.

“Well… once you die I will be free from my bond… and you have what? Thirty… forty years? Fifty if you are lucky. I have lived so many of your pathetic mortal lives, your life will pass in but a moment for me and I have become very patient. A human life is nothing. I can wait,” the changeling snarled towards her.

“Enjoy the basement, you will be staying there for the next couple of decades,” she spat at him before she turned around and stomped up the stairs, not wanting to allow this creature to see her cry.

As the door slammed behind her the darkness filled the basement and the only light came from the eyes of the changeling’s eyes. He gritted his teeth as the pain nearly pierced his stone heart in two as he fell to his knees. There the wretched creature remained, soundlessly weeping within the darkness that he knew so well.

#binding circle #stricklake #barbara lake #walter strickler #stricklander #stricklake fic

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mgcmind · 6 years

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soulmate au pleeeeeeeease!!

Between a new supervisor position, the holidays, and wedding plans, I’m finding very little time to write! But this prompt just…took on a whole life of its own in my head. So this turned out much longer than expected. lol

I hope you like it, @quaintaffairs!

What’shilarious is…he doesn’t even believe in Soulmates. Well, yes, he believes inoxytocin and dopamine and the biological drive to procreate. He even believesin love, on his more romantic days.

Buta Soulmate? This one person who givesyou everything you never even knew you needed? Someone destined for you? No.

Whichis why it’s hilarious that he’s breaking into the Soulmate Letter Directoryright now.

It’snot because he wants to find out who is listed as his soulmate. Whatever name scrawled there in red cursive on thedirectory would be of no consequence to him.

Hejust wants the government to be held accountable, is all.

Becauseeven if the very concept of a Soulmate is rubbish, L still needs truth out there.He can’t stand the conspiracy. The cover-up.

Andthis is one of the greatest cover-ups of all time: that an oligarchy in controlof the SLD actually knows everyone’sdestined partner. They keep track.It’s not that those letters people send addressed to “X’s Soulmate” get deliveredby magic, or by spiritual energy, or that the soul actually pulls the lettertoward itself when it is sent, as so many people believe.

No…Lhas found out that a select group of powerful individuals send the letters –and use the knowledge of who a person’s Soulmate is against them.

Aselect group of individuals know whoeveryone’s most important person is. And L is certain that they who control thatknowledge are using it for personal gain. After all, what greater token of blackmailcould one find than the identity of a Soulmate?

Why,one threat against them and you could control a person’s entire fortune. Youcould control their future, too. You could do anything to them, and they’d bepowerless to stop it.

Nobodycould stand to risk their Soulmate’s life.

(Well,no one except L, who doesn’t believe in those things. But L is an aberration inmany ways, and doesn’t consider himself one of the masses.)

Backto the point. The point is: the vast majority of the world does believe in Soulmates, and people have killed (or worse) toprotect theirs.

SoL is breaking into the SLD. He’ll take the Directory, and make the knowledgepublic.

Destroywhat makes the oligarchy powerful, destroy the oligarchy. Simple. Elegant. Llikes elegant solutions.

It’sdark, and deceptively still. L is just inside the first layer of security: afifty-foot wall, sealed with retina scanners and surrounded by security guardsbuilt like linebackers.

Inother words, a joke.

Afterslipping past the wall, he had found himself inside of a vast, circular innerroom – cold and dark and seemingly deserted.

Now…wherewas that second layer to be found?

Lis inspecting a suspicious-looking blinking green light when a sound catcheshis attention: a sharp intake of breath, like the sound someone makes when theystub their toe on something in the dead of night.

Weighingthe odds of getting himself killed if he speaks and finding them favorable toremaining silent, L calls out, “Who’s there?”

Onlysilence greets him, but it’s a tense silence, and L knows he wasn’t imaginingthe sound he heard.

Someoneis there. Someone who doesn’t want to be found.

Interesting.

“Speak,”L commands, in a clear voice. “Or SLD security will make you.”

Whoeverit is apparently decides to reveal themselves, because instead of an answer, Lhears a soft laughter – bell-like but decidedly masculine, and from someone whois either young or naïve to cigarette smoke. Or both.

“Youaren’t SLD security, or any other kind of security,” says his companion, and Lwas right – it’s a young man. He speaks in a low, thoughtful voice. “Andneither am I. So we can either let each other go about our business, or we cancall even more attention to ourselves and actuallybring security here. Which do you want?”

…interesting.

Thinkingthat his silence will be answer enough, L goes back to inspecting the greenblinking light. The knowledge of the loaded Beretta tucked into his waistbanddoes him some small amount of comfort.

Afteremploying some thoughtful reverse-engineering and a miniature welding torch, Lescapes the dark circle. Evidently his companion has chosen to take a similarcourse, because L is followed out of it.

Whenhe looks over his shoulder, he sees that the man is wearing black from head totoe, including the hood he has pulled over his hair, and the long scarf wrappedaround his neck, which covers his nose and mouth.

Theireyes meet, momentarily, and L feels a flash of…something…before the man looksaway.

Llets himself stare for a few moments more, then remembers his mission.

Theyhave emerged into a room filled with brilliant golden light. The ceiling is sohigh that L cannot see it, and all around them are shelves upon shelves,stuffed with envelopes and small packages, tied with red string.

Lwas expecting to find someone, anyone, here…someone who could lead him to theoligarchy that controls the SLD, if not the oligarchy itself. But the room iscompletely deserted.

There’sa raised dais in the center, with a notebook lying open on it. It can only bethe Directory. L is drawn forward, as if by something outside his own power.

Inchesfrom the platform, inches from taking a closer look, snatching the notebook,and completing his mission, his companion halts him.

Lfinds a Colt .45 aimed between his eyes, held out fixed and steady.

Luckythat he is possessed of reflexes that are faster than average. They have neveryet failed him, and do not choose now to begin. Without even thinking, he hashis Beretta similarly aimed.

Theyare nearly of the same height, and there’s a pretty sort of symmetry to howthey hold each other at gun-point.

“Look,just find your letter and go. Don’t make me say it twice.”

“I’mnot here to find a letter,” L says.

Thisisn’t the first time he has been held at gun-point. And if he is to die here,then die he shall. It would have happened eventually, anyway. L is not afraid.

Andat least one part of the oligarchy has been identified. L is sure this manknows something.

Maybehe knows everything.

Theireyes have met again, naturally, and L feels that same…flash…again. And he iscloser now. He can see better. There is something shimmering in those brownirises. Japanese words?

HisJapanese is rusty, especially when it’s not written in romanji, but L makes do.

Night. God. Moon.

Whaton earth?

Allof a sudden, his enemy’s eyes widen, and suddenly L finds that the gun pointedat him has begun to lower, just slightly.

“Itcan’t be,” his companion whispers.

“Whatcan’t be?” L asks, and he will remain curious right up to the end, won’t he?

“Younever sent anything!” the young man suddenly shouts. “If you’ve been alive allthis time…why would you never send anything?Was even a postcard too much to ask?”

Slowly,things begin to coalesce in L’s mind, and he feels the first few tremors offear that he has experienced all night.

Hedoesn’t know what to say. It’s not a common feeling, for him.

“Youwon’t even speak to me, either?Unbelievable!” the young man continues to shout. He flings his gun across theroom, and it hits the marble floor with a clash that echoes all around them.“Oh, put that thing down already, will you?” he snaps with audible distaste.“It’s no use against me. You can’t kill your own Soulmate.”

Lstill cannot speak, and doesn’t like the feeling.

“God,you must understand what I’m talkingabout. You were smart enough to break in here, weren’t you? I’m your Soulmate.Your One and Only. Your True Love? The person most compatible with you in thewhole world?”

Lopens his mouth, then closes it again.

Theman makes a frustrated, animalistic noise, and pushes the hood off of his head.He rips the scarf away too, throwing it angrily onto the floor.

“Isaw your name in your eyes!” he shouts. “L Lawliet. And I know you saw mine.Light Yagami?”

Lknew his Japanese was rusty, but not thatrusty.

But…bythe Gods, this…this Light Yagami…is beautiful. L still doesn’tbelieve in Soulmates, but he is not so proud that he won’t admit to finding himthe most beautiful man – person, actually – that L has ever seen.

Shiningbrown hair, perfect nose, eyes like those of a doe (but sharper, clearer, andmore ruthless somehow, but in the most attractive way). Lips like they werecarved by Michelangelo.

“Willyou say something?” Light demands. Heeven goes so far as to stamp his foot.

Lsays the first thing that comes to mind.

(No,no, he doesn’t. He says the third thing that comes to mind, the thing hebelieves will frustrate Light Yagami the most. Just to see what will happen,and how easily L can push his buttons, and test whether or not L will beleaving this place with more than just the Directory in his hands.)

“Hasanyone ever told you that you are absolutely stunning?” L asks. He makes apoint of looking at Light as though he is a piece of filet mignon on special.

“Ohfor God’s sake,” Light snaps. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re absolutely infuriating? Will you answer my damnedquestion already? Why did you never write?”

Oh yes, L thinks. Ohhhhh yes.

“Asit happens, I don’t believe in Soulmates,” he answers, with deliberate unconcern.“Why should I have written? And I might just as well ask you the same question.Why did you never write yourself?”

“Youdon’t believe in Soulmates?” Lightasks, aghast and seemingly disgusted. “How can…who would…that’s like saying youdon’t believe in the moon! Or the stars! Or…or…the atmosphere!”

Lshrugs. “To each his own, I suppose. But you haven’t yet explained why you didn’ttake it upon yourself to write to me. You clearly knew who I was.”

Colorrises high on Light’s cheeks, but his expression doesn’t betray any embarrassment,or shame. On the contrary, he seems nothing so much as furious.

“Sonot only do you have no belief in Soulmates, but you also lack even one romanticbone in your entire body,” he bites out. “Fine. So long as we’re doing this thedifficult way, I’ll tell you. I had access to the Directory. You didn’t.Forgive me if I wanted to know the way in which you’d…reach out…to me. Forgiveme for the apparently unspeakable crime of wanting to be surprised. Dare I say, wooed.”

Lightrolls his eyes in further disgust and turns away. When he speaks again, it iswith his back toward L.

“Iknow you want the Directory. You’re not getting it. Not in a million yearswould I let you take it. Especially when you don’t even believe in it yourself.The world could use a little more joy in it. A little more love, or do you notbelieve in that either? It doesn’t matter. I’m keeping it. I worked damn hardfor it and not even my Soulmate” – hesays the word with dripping sarcasm – “will take it from me. People are goingto keep getting their letters, and keep sending them, and finding their One andOnlys, and having that small bit of magic in their lives.”

“Youexpect me to believe that you – and you alone – manage the letters for the entireworld’s Soulmates?” L asks.

Lookingover his shoulder at L with a dry, almost pitying expression, Light says, “Yousay that like it would be difficult.”

Ldoesn’t believe in Soulmates. He doesn’t.

“Andyou do all of this for…what? Profit? Do you charge for postage? Influence?Power? Blackmail?”

Lightturns away again, presenting L with his back once more. “What kind of life mustyou have lived, to think that someone would only bring lovers together forprofit or for power?” he asks quietly.

Ldoesn’t dignify that (piercing, painful, compassionate)question with a response.

“Itisn’t right for one person to have all this knowledge,” he says, instead. “Youcould easily turn the world into one of your own making. You could be a god.”

Lightsighs, heavily. “If I were anyone else, you might have a point, Mr. Lawliet. ButI’m not like everyone else. I’m different. And I suspect that you are too. Soleave it be. And leave me be, while you’re at it.”

Lspares several moments’ thought on his next move, then steps up very close toLight. He comes close enough to feel his chest against Light’s own back when hebreathes, to smell his cologne, to speak his next words right into Light’s ear.

“You’renot infallible, Light Yagami, even if you do come very, very close,” L says. “Andas determined as you are, I would wager that I am just as much. So…even if Idon’t believe in Soulmates…I believe we could be something.”

Lleans in, using his voice to his advantage. He’s been told that it is rich anddark enough to penetrate even the most obstinate of ears. “Enemies? Lovers? Both?”

Lightdoes a fair job of hiding it, but L can read his desire in the slight quicknessof his breath, the fine trembles in his fingertips.

“Ifyou plan to use your soul to seduce mine into giving you the Directory, you’llbe sorely disappointed, L Lawliet,” he says quietly.

“Oh,Light Yagami,” L chuckles. “I’m counting on it.”

#my fic #writing #ficlet #asks #thank you followers #lawlight #soulmate au #will this even make any sense?

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jigensass · 6 years

Text

Dr Strange Punk Rave Supreme Chapters 4 & 5 - The Vishanti (Chapter 4) The Truth (Chapter 5)

Chapter 4

Applause echoed through the entire floor as eyes peeked around to get a look at Stephen. The attention brought some anxiety over him as peering eyes and looks of anticipation were glued to every movement he made.

He was not even ready for the ceremony because he either didn't practice it or it was to come naturally to him. To him, it was not an honour and something he shouldn't have been flaunting around like a peacock. His outfit was the most casual one at the ball compared to the elaborate tailoring some sorcerers arrived in.

Clea was about to come to his side but was pulled back with the crowd as a mantra grew on the floor around him and then three beings, each around seven feet tall or higher entered the room and sat on cushions that were placed in the balcony.

He had never seen those beings face to face, merely in visions that whispered about his future accomplishments. They were the gods known as the Vishanti. Ethereal, ever-present, all-knowing, the usual traits of someone so mighty. Each one had an affinity that they held dear to their morals.

To the left was a woman with long black hair that was sprinkled with feathers. A circlet made of silver and an aquamarine stone rest upon her head. Her wardrobe was a kimono that personified the look of a swan. It draped below her shoulders to expose her collarbone. The blue and white colors of the air glittered on her for it was her element that she controlled with ease. Her beauty was just an illusion, for she was the creator of worlds and held more power than anyone could imagine for being an Elder Goddess. For it was the omnipotent Oshtur, creator of the Tome of Oshtur and possibly the Book of Vishanti.

To the right, a man sat appeared as if he could lift the entire universe on his shoulders with ease. He appeared to be of an Islander race, but this was a simple fallacy to tease the eye so he could easily be identified. A cold stare on his face peered in judgement at Stephen. His outfit was that of a fighter but was orange with black stripes complimenting on his belt, weight bracelets, and edges of his uniform. Orange stripes were painted on his biceps to contrast his darkened skin. A tiger that was larger than average slept at his side, uninterested in the festivities and probably just wanting its next meal. Hoggoth the Hoary was not a force to be trifled with easily. The banes he casted were the strongest ones in the books and only skilled magicians could be able to cast them.

And in between the two of them sat one of the most elegant beings Stephen had ever laid eyes on. His long, brown hair and facial hair were just as exquisite as his silk robes that were sprinkled with butterflies. He had a shit-eating grin while he smoked a hookah. The man had an eyepatch over his right eye, giving his identity away to Stephen. It was none other than the one he focused on the most, Agamatto. The man was created from a tear of Oshtur and the very first Sorcerer Supreme, even before Yao. He smirked at Stephen knowing what trials awaited him. Whether he passed or not was up to them.

The sorcerer gulped as all eyes in the room preened at hat he would do next. Never before had he felt so naked and afraid in his life. But he held onto the moment as he was taught and walked just under the balcony, his heels echoing throughout the marble floor. Whispers and gasps were heard through the ballroom as Stephen bowed, took a deep breath, and rose with a clear mind.

"Vishanti, I, Doctor Stephen Vincent Strange have been summoned to your call to take upon the mantle of Sorcerer Supreme. My teacher, the Ancient One, has decided on his terms that I am the one who is fit to protect the Earthen realm of all mystical threats. He is but a human, but you know my outcome for the near future. If I please your ends, I will greatly provide myself for the means that you wish for me to follow." There was not a choke in his voice as he brought forth his declaration. A sense of pride rushed through him that his speech was well done. Yao taught him well to never falter and to be able to face your fears. Though he did not arrive with his pupil, he hid amongst the watchers and attended the gathering to see how far his student had come from afar as to not pressure him into perfection. It was one of Stephen's weaknesses that he had to impress everyone with a flawless performance or the execution was considered a failure. He would have to learn to understand that you cannot always shoot for one hundred percent. Because it will end up costing you greatly in the long run. Yao knew that Stephen was going to learn the hard way soon enough.

Agamatto inhaled into his hookah, smiled, and let out a small chuckle. Hoggoth scoffed as Oshtur made a fan appear that complimented her kimono, closing her eyes as if to acknowledge his presence.

"Dr Strange.....?" Agamatto chuckled again and exhaled to make smoke rings come out of his mouth. "Why do you think you are fit to fill the role of Sorcerer Supreme?"

"And not anyone else's reasons," Oshtur's voice chimed like a bell, already knowing Stephen was first going to fumble past reasons that were explained to him.

It was always a trick question. A normal human would give a 50 slide presentation on their reasoning but answers were simpler as they appeared to be. Once again, Stephen closed his eyes and appeared as if he was meditating to think of what he would say a silent minute passed (to him it felt much longer), until he firmly let out,

"I gazed into Eternity and it gazed back at me, giving me the answers I needed."

"And what answers were those?" Hoggoth scoffed and smirked. He was not as omnipotent as the other two, so he had doubts if Stephen's words were lies.

"That there are no answers except for one: I, am the answer, you are the answer, everyone in the universe is the answer."

Yao grinned from ear to ear, proud of his pupil's accomplishments to come to terms with his suffering and welcome in enlightenment. Most magic users in the room could not comprehend the meaning since the mystic arts was not their method of practice, but the monks in the room chuckled and clapped.

The Vishanti were pleased as well and unanimously nodded their heads.

"Please move back! The Vishanti will now give their blessing!" The crowd shook with anticipation. Once Stephen took the Oath of the Vishanti, he would be blessed to be granted the powers of the three as needed for as long as he remained dedicated to his practice.

The ritual began as all three members extended their hands to Stephen which began to glow as he recited the Oath that was prompted to him. The sorcerer's body surged with energy, screaming in pain of the magic fusing with his own that caused him to float off the floor, his eyes glowing neon blue. He did read it was possible that he could die, but if Oshtur knew the outcome, why would they choose him unless they had a grudge? Or if his path was supposed to end here...

Over time, the magic did settle down and Stephen returned to equilibrium as the crowd applauded and cheered for his good ending. Wong and Yao approached him, shocking Stephen of his presence.

"Miss this? No, I came separately as to not bias your views so as you felt the urge that you had to impress me,” the sage smiled wide and gave his student a hug. “your journey truly begins Stephen, for try as I might, my journey ends here. It is your turn...”

“Master, what do you mean? I may have been blessed, but you still are the Sorcerer Supreme. You are an immortal, are you hiding away in Tibet?”

Yao pulled back from their embrace and gave a look of bliss at Oshtur who simply nodded. Others in the room began to shout in fright as visions of the incoming future that was doomed to be unravelled.

“The first lesson you learned was that you cannot control the actions of others, my student. In the end, some things are meant to occur to move the flow of time. May the Vishanti watch over you.”

Walking away for the last time, the mage was in pure shock of what that meant.

It couldn’t be...

There was no way...

Stephen gulped, realizing amongst the frantic running to push Yao out of the way, he summoned the Winds of Watoomb to blow them away. The crowd was angry and tried to fight back, but the Vishanti simply watched on the spectacle. Oshtur was pleased with this outcome of how the new sage was handling the situation. The other sages began to scream at the sorcerer began to scream at the Vishanti for not intervening in Stephen’s ‘reckless behaviour’ and he was ‘unfit’ to serve as the next Sorcerer Supreme.

It was quite the opposite. As omnipotent as she was, the goddess knew she was making the right decision.

“Mother? Should we really do something? Someone else will get hurt for sure. The others are not as wise as he is and the Dark Lord’s wrath will be brutal once he finds out his niece is here as well.” Agamatto blew on his pipe while turning to her.

“No, let our disciple do his work.”

He felt time slow around Yao and himself. The clacks of his geta on the marble chimed with the seconds.

clack A cloud of smoke surrounds Yao and he smiles at Stephen

clack the flames began to surround Yao, not burning him. Stephen smiled with tears in his eyes.

clack a dark figure about seven feet tall appears behind the Ancient One and stabbed a dagger in his back, casting Shield of the Seraphim to prevent intervention.

As it was done, members of the party whispered, ‘Dormammu’ as the new Sorcerer Supreme caught his master’s body and smiled, now seeing with his third eye that this was one of many ways that he could have died tonight. It was the cleanest and least gruesome way, but for now, he had a riot to deal with.

Wong was already by his side, furious at his actions, “Why did you let him come through?! How did he know we were here?!”

Tears still stained his eyes as he looked at Wong. “He traced the party back to a specific energy pattern. One of his own. And two, it’s better than being decapitated. I had no choice, Wong. Yao was leaving this world tonight and he couldn’t get around that. That’s why the Vishanti didn’t get involved. They knew it was going to happen. As for everyone else...that’s a different story. Take Yao’s body back to Kamar-taj, meet me upstairs. Other pressing matters are at hand...”

Chapter 5

Clea stared in shock at the ordeal. How calm Stephen was and how quick her uncle did his work. How could he?! She left no traces of evidence of where she was headed! The Faltinian even had a pixie shroud her in fae dust to hide her essence even more from her family to get away!

She rubbed her neck and up behind her ear, grazing her earring. The earring her mother gave- Umar! Of course! Clea removed the trinket and upon further inspection, saw her mother gazing back at her with a smirk. She gasped, dropping it to the floor and smashing it with her heel. She had to get out off here. But where would she go? Be part of the fairy court? It seemed like her only option. But where was Marie?

Clea huffed, frustrated that she escaped out of fear and left her behind or got pulled away with the other sorcerers. So much for being almighty, if they unanimously feared one thing it was Dormammu.

Now with Yao’s body in a safe space, Stephen asked person after person about a white-haired woman with a pixie went. No one could answer, they were too frightened that they were also on the Dark Lord’s hit list.

Failure after failure, he began to lose focus until something small slammed into his stomach.

“Excuse you! I-” The being groaned while rubbing her head. “Marie! Where’s Clea!?”

“You tell me, I was going to go after her, but that hellish general snatched me, sent me through a portal, and we ended upstairs to escape, but instead we found a couple of Mindless Ones. They’re dead now.”

“That’s not the point! Can you find her?”

“I can try...I’m not the best at divination...” As she held up her hands to perform the spell, a piece of paper appeared in flames with the following message:

3rd floor, 2nd room. Look for the broken earring. You’re welcome. 735-555-4355

“Either this is a trap or someone wants to take me out by helping me.” The mage frowned at the number but regardless, followed the instructions. Lo and behold, the broken purple earring was on the floor.

“That’s Clea’s!” Marie’s eyes were wide at these findings. Stephen, on the other hand, was worried. He touched the door in confusion as to why someone would be helping them so conveniently with all the answers?

“Definitely a trap. Could you go in and scot the place or are you too big?” The door did have an old-fashioned knob where the keyhole was big enough for an insect to crawl through.

“The smallest I’ve been is two inches. Right now I’m six.” The two tilted to guesstimate the height.

“Alright, to be safe.” He nodded at the handle for her to grab it as his left hand glowed with a missile that was ready to fire. “Alright 1, 2...”

The pixie shouted the shrillest battle cry he had ever heard as she yanked the door open and Stephen charged his hand yelling, “Dormammu I’ve come to-” but their spirits were calmed when Clea was on the bed, staring at the two in confusion with the Hellish general in a nearby chair, now having wings on his back while licking his fingers, sword in hand, and two dead bodies of what looked liked to be party guests, were on the floor, covered in blood.

The dynamic duo bent down cautiously to inspect them. Both of the corpses were wearing a mask and just as he bent down to remove one, the demon stopped him by responding,

“Ah, I wouldn’t do that. Mindless Ones are so hard to kill, it was lucky you know. I ran into her just as they were dragging her into a portal. I could have been terrible and wasted her life,” Stephen scolded him for his arrogant attitude, “but since she meant something to you, I made an exception. My new adversary needs a love interest.” He smirked at Stephen as he rose, his blade now clean of the taint.

“So you want nothing in return?” He rose to face the back of the winged one, glaring at this back.

“Oh! I will get my bill paid at a later, you simply won’t expect it.” Seeing up close and sober, the man was silver-tongued as they come but just as attractive. The shit eating grin symbolizing that he had won something out of this encounter worried he had his own plans at this party.

“One more thing, that number I gave you, I change it monthly so take my opportunity soon. And ring for Mysterio Amortensis. Sometimes it goes to my king and he definitely wouldn’t like you and me to get involved.” A slight chuckle left Mysterio as he sheathed his sword and portalled away to the Hell Dimension, just as Wong was returning from Kamar-taj

“So...you gonna call him?” Marie stared at Stephen with child-like wonder. He returned the stare, raised an eyebrow, and threw the thought away. More important matters were at hand.

“First things first, we have to get Clea and everyone else out of here if they haven’t left already and if there are more Mindless Ones, we need to get rid of them.” He looked towards Wong and sighed, “Really hate to do this, but, please Wong.”

“I’m not your Uber Driver.”

“Please?! I’ll give you my Netflix password anything! Just get her back to the Sanctum!”

“She could be a spy!”

“I am not a spy!” Clea explained her escape plans from the Dark Dimension and how he was being tracked.

Wong and Stephen thought for a moment and without explaining, stripped Clea of all her jewellery and trinkets.

“HEY! THAT’S NOT! PERVERTS!”

“Even her garter?” Wong questioned.

“Anything that could be enchanted. At least scan her dress and put a ward on it.”

“I-I’ll take care of that!” Marie interjected and pull Clea to a separate room to insist her to change. The Faltianian and pixie came back out in different clothes. Clea was in a purple unitard with black stockings that had white circles on them and Marie was wearing a Tinker Bellesque dress.

“No more trinkets, enchantments, or wards?” Stephen crossed his arms and shared a concerning glance.

“None.” Marie and Clea unanimously stated.

“Alright, you two, back to the Sanctum Sanctorum,” A portal opened beside Stephen and the two girls walked in.

“Is this the right choice?” Clea wondered with sad eyes.

“For now, my home has wards that can protect you two.” Stephen returned the same sad eyes.

“Thank you, Stephen, for everything.” The portal closed and his attention turned back to Wong. “I know the Vishanti can handle their own but, we have to check... Dormammu didn’t want to just kill Yao, there’s something else going on here.”

“For once Stephen, I actually agree with you.”

A proud smile lit up the sorcerer’s face as the two of them headed back down to the ballroom to see what remained of the massacre at hand.

OH BOI PHEW DID NOT EXPECT TWO CHAPTERS BUT I DID IT!

Thanks again to @doobler for providing the idea of punk rave supreme. I just write it!

Also thanks to:

@your-dark-magic-man-mysterio

@askmarietheapprentice for letting me borrow their muses!

We’re gonna end this arc soon but where do we go from there? WHO KNOWS!?

#punk rave supreme

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k-renne · 7 years

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Summary: The Nightshade Witch of Ren, a name that brings fear. Harbinger of revenge and corrupt justice, he’s the number one target of The Church. You are an average young woman of the village, trying to escape your strict parents and The Church. Fate has it that your paths are intrinsically linked, to the disdain of well…everyone.

Kylo Ren was working on requests, when Armitage Hux entered his shop. He sold unspeakable things, magic that was widely used but left unacknowledged. He observed the man with narrowed eyes; watching as a sinister spirit seemed to swirl around him.

“Hux, what do you want?” This wasn’t his first time as a customer, Hux wasn’t afraid to abuse his wealth to attain power. He was quite well versed in the occult, to the misfortune of his enemies.

“I have a sea serpent’s scale and many moonberries, along with 50 golden coins. It’s more than necessary, but I have a feeling you won’t like what I‘m about to ask.” Hux lays his pay on the table for Kylo to examine.

“I need to know what you’re asking before I consider this.”

Hux pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, “There’s this maiden,” He starts. Kylo raises his brows; he could tell already he wasn’t going to like this. “She is to be my betrothed, well supposed to be. Y/N L/N, I’ve been courting her for years.”

“Get to the point,” Kylo rolls his eyes.

“I want you to hex her, that little witch…”

“I’m amused that you use witch as an insult,” Kylo chuckles.

“Right, my apologies. But I’d like you to hex her, the woman has tricked me, making me think that she would marry me, taking my gifts and money, only to refuse my proposal!” Hux complains angrily.

“So you want me to hex a woman because she rejected you? Sounds like a personal problem.”

“If you don’t do it I’ll just go to someone else, it doesn’t matter who,” Hux threatens. The problem was that it did matter, people would call Kylo cruel but there were others that would torture people just for their own amusement and that mean that you would end up truly hurt.

“Give me some time to think about it.”

“Fine, but tomorrow you better have an answer.” Hux points. He leaves with his money and treasures, leaving Kylo to make a decision.

Kylo decided to consult his well of wills, to get some insight on who you were to help in making his decision. He places his palms flat atop of the black water and closes his eyes, taking a deep breath.

He sees a basket, full with various berries. Not far away is you, sitting near a bush and picking berries, piling them into your apron. Your hair is down, and you smile briefly as you’re imagining something happy. You look to see if anyone is watching, before taking some a strawberry and popping it into your mouth. Kylo takes a gulp of air as he breaks away from the trance.

There was absolutely no way that he could fill Hux’s request. You were a vision of beauty and kindness; you would never harm another soul. Kylo wouldn’t be able to sleep at night if he hurt you, sure he could be a monster but only to those who he felt deserved it. Especially with this feeling in his chest he had at the sight of you, which made him feel warm and all tingly over, he had to make sure that you wouldn’t get hurt.

The first place he looked was the field, that he saw in his vision. Luckily you were still there, laying in the grass and enjoying the sun on your face. Kylo doesn’t know how to approach you, he might seem terrifying to you, dressed in black, his under eyes where even lined with khol. He didn’t belong in such bright light, he belonged to the shadows. He reminded himself that thsi was for a worthy cause and began to walk towards you.

You didn’t hear him, but when it seemed like a dark cloud blocked out the sun you looked up, only to see a man. He looked regal...perhaps he was a prince, a dark prince that is. He wore a long black cape that blew with the breeze, big black feathers covering his shoulders. His nose was particularly striking, standing proud against his face. His lips, pink against the contrast of his pale skin, probably from very little sun. They looked so pouty, kissable almost. Oh christ you were staring.

“Excuse me, sorry to bother you Lady L/N, but there’s something I must tell you,” Kylo addresses you. You sit up and get ready to stand, but he quickly kneels to your level. “No need to get uncomfortable,” He explains.

“I’m sorry but I don’t even know who you are?” You ask.

“You may call me Kylo, and that’s all,” He gestures with a wave of the hand.

“Okay Kylo, what have you got to tell me?” You asked. It was quite strange for a man to come up to you like this, normally you were always alone here. If your parents knew that you were alone, with a man, you certainly wouldn’t be allowed to return by yourself. Even if you felt yourself to be a perfectly capable young woman. They would find some way to interfere in your business. Enough of them, you needed to give this ethereal man your attention.

“It’s not pleasant, but someone has come to me with the intention to hex you, I’m sure you know him. Hux?” You roll your eyes at that name.

“Unfortunately, and did you say hex?”

“Yes, I am a witch if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Wow, how lovely! I’ve never met a witch before.” You had always been curious about witches, wanted to know if they were like what your parents said or the same as the books you read. Kylo observes this little sparkle in your eye when you say that, funnily you completely ignore the part where he said he was going to almost hex you. How cute.

“More importantly you have a man who wishes to do you ill intent, and since I plan on refusing him tomorrow it will mean that he will go to someone far worse than myself.”

“What do I even do about that, I don’t know anyone who could help me.” Normally most people would have a witch they could go for stuff like this, but growing up under The Church meant you were forbidden from even talking with one. Of course, at this point in your independence you could care less about such a silly rule that you didn’t believe.

“I can help you, that’s why I came here.” Kylo tells you.

“How kind of you, what do you need me to do?”

“We need to go to your home,” He explains. You must not know who he is, to trust him so blindly. He could tell that you were somewhat naïve, of course that only made him feel more strongly about you. He followed you to your house, helping to carry some of the berries you just picked. Seeing you in person was much different than his vision, in real life he could smell you and sense your energy. Both of which made you all the more enticing to him, he took a deep breath and got a whiff of your scent, which almost made him moan.

Everything about you was arousing...from your seeming innocence to the way your blouse hugged your breasts, Kylo was enraptured. He’d seduce you, but your safety was much more important for now. However in the future...it could certainly happen, and Kylo’s mind quickly wandered to what that might be like.

He’d imagine that you’d be incredibly soft in comparison to him, how lovely it would feel to press you against the mattress and spread you wide….Stop being a deviant! Damn he made himself hard, luckily it was easily to conceal under his thick robes. It was already serving difficult not to think such things around you, true though it had been a while for him, it was no excuse. But he couldn’t help it when your smile called to him like a siren, he was already lost to you.

“Kylo, you can walk besides me you know,” You look back at him.

“Yes, I’m just trying to look out for you.” Not just stare at your backside, a woman wearing pants was a lovely sight. You shake your head.

“Perhaps, but I’d like to converse with you and it’s annoying to keep craning my neck,” You quip.

“Alright, I suppose I can look out from here.” He strides to meet you in two steps.

“That’s better now I feel much safer.” You tease, making Kylo laugh.

It had been a while since he had interacted with anyone besides a customer, and you reminded him that not everyone was horrible. Some people were actually enjoyable to talk to, especially you. Kylo hoped that this wouldn’t be the last time that he’d see you, though he would probably find some excuse to visit you at some point. “So, what kind of things do you do as a witch?” You interrupt his thoughts.

“There’s no easy answer for that, I do many things,” He answers vaguely.

“Yeah but like what?” You want to hear more about the world that had always been hidden from you.

“You really don’t know much about magic do you?”

“No, but I’d like to learn.” You shrug.

“Someday I’ll tell you, but not now okay?” Kylo promises. You nod to him.

“This is it,” You point to your cottage. Kylo smiles, there are flowers all around, vines growing on the walls, it’s small but charming like he’d imagine it. He wondered how you ended up living here by yourself.

Kylo places charms and protectants around the perimeter of your home, and also gives you a charm to wear. “Here, this is my most powerful charm, it should keep you safe,” He hands you the charm. It’s a family heirloom, passed down from his grandmother, a simple white stone with pattern carved into it.

“Thank you Kylo, would you like to stay for tea?” You offer. Kylo considers it, he’d like nothing more than to stay but he knows that if he does he’d do something foolish like try to kiss you. He already felt like he had overstayed his welcome and he wasn’t ready to answer more of your questions, “I’m sorry I must go, I have some work to do.” He says.

“That’s perfectly alright, it was nice meeting you Kylo,” You smile warmly at him.

Kylo takes your hand, bringing your knuckles to his lips to leave a soft kiss. “Enchanté my dear, may we meet again.”

The next morning you go out to fetch some water from the stream nearby, there and old woman gives you a gift that you cannot refuse. It’s a single rose and it reads as an omen. You’re hand moves before you can control it, taking it from the old woman’s hand. The thorns prick your fingers when you pick it up, the tiny prick of pain flooding your senses. The old woman flashes you a smile, and you’re filled with dread.

This girl, she’s pure

Bring lots of pain

A sprinkle of nightmares

And a dash of blood

Take her future away

The curse was set, laughter could be heard in the distance.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren #witch!kylo #light of mine #renne writes #kylo fanfic

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imagine-loki · 7 years

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Across the Divide

TITLE: Across The Divide

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter Seven AUTHOR: wolfpawn ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki sneaking out of the palace as a youth to see the city and countryside, while out one day, he accidentally gets in trouble for something, but a young girl deals with the situation, allowing him to be left alone and his true identity be kept secret. She is a poor girl who is only in the city to sell goods with her father, so she does not realise it is Loki, even though she sees his face. They form a friendship as she shows him around the city, and tells him the date she comes to the city every month for a particular market. RATING: Teen and Up

Loki watched as Thor and his idiot friends sat in a circle, clearly deep in thought. Knowing that there was a significant chance of irritating them, he decided to join them. "Norn's but are you all not the most cheerful group, who urinated in your mead?" he scoffed as he walked over to them.

"Not now, Loki, we are dealing with something," Thor growled.

"If it is which one of you is the greatest pain, that truly is a dilemma," Loki smirked. "What is so difficult for you all?"

"Fandral was accosted by some peasant who apparently knew too much of his personal life, we are trying to figure out is it a member of our staff." Loki stared at his brother with a raised brow and a look of disbelief on his face. "We have established he was not of anyone else's house so we are trying to see if he is of ours."

"And what details of great note did this so called upstart claim to know?" Loki looked at Fandral.

The blonde warrior became somewhat flustered, rubbing the back of his neck and not answering immediately. "He made comment on nicknames and comments that only those within close contact with my family would know."

"You do realise that you cannot possibly scour our staff, their spouses, kin and friends because to do so is quite literally tens of thousands of people. This palace employs two thousand full and part-time staff, of which there are, at last count, five-sixths that are wed, and over two-thirds have children, as well as the fact the average Aesir family size is three children, can you not compute the sheer numbers we are talking here?" he laughed at the sheer idiocy of their futile task. "Honestly, I do not know why you bother."

"Because to speak such a manner…" Fandral rose to his feet in indignation at Loki's blasé attitude.

Loki looked at the other man boredly, "Whatever they said much really have struck a nerve with you Fandral, it begs the question, what did you do to warrant such scathing words as to have you in this humour?" he cocked his head slightly as he acted curious.

"I merely noticed a young beautiful woman and asked her for a drink, hardly something of note," Fandral shrugged.

For a moment, a flicker of anger on his features caused Loki to have to inhale deeply. "And the miscreant came to rescue her from your clutches, I assume?"

"I did not harm her," Fandral stepped forward challengingly to Loki.

"I never stated you did, however, your implying it now makes me wonder if you did? So you go over to a girl, can you even assume she is of age? Did she seem willing, or was she trying to signal someone to help her?"

"What are you implying Loki," Thor growled. "Fandral may be forward, but he is hardly molesting."

"What scares me in all of this is not one of you seem to care as to why someone would act in such a manner to your dear friend, rather than that, you are obsessed with what seems to be a nobody calling him out on more than likely being an ignorant fool," Loki stated angrily. "Honestly, you all need to grow up because contrary to what your limited brain function dictates, being of higher status does not exempt you from basic social construct, you cannot simply assume every female with a pulse is interested in you, if she has a partner already, then surely, since you are hardly planning on bringing her home to that busybody of a mother of yours as your partner, you would leave the poor creature be."

Fandral's lip curled in anger and contempt as Loki referenced his mother, a woman who, as Loki had suggested, was someone overly involved in the affairs of others, often seen sitting among a gaggle of women like her, tittering about supposed social faux pas and rumours. "I should…"

"What, are you actually forgetting your place further Fandral, I am a prince, you the son of a lord, and you think yourself above me? Try something, I dare you, and let us see how you fare, I am no simple country girl or street boy, I can very much take you, and by Norn's do you know it. I am not the little boy you once helped lock into a hound house."

The others in the room swallowed guilty, thinking back to a time, centuries before, where it took four of them to get a kicking and fighting Loki into said kennel because he told his parents that Thor had snuck out with Hogun to skip studies, leaving the younger prince there so long, his knees had sores for days after. "Enough." Thor decided to step in. "Perhaps Loki is right, there are too many to think of, we can only keep an eye out for this boy. It is somewhat disturbing that someone would have that much knowledge on Fandral without him knowing who the peasant is. Now onto less irksome matters."

"Do not let me stop you, I have had my fill of you idiots for one day," Loki growled as he went to leave the room.

"I have always been curious, Loki?" He turned to look at Fandral again. "You wear that friendship ruin around your neck as though given to you by the Norn's themselves, yet I have never witnessed someone near you to even give it to you."

"And?" Loki asked boredly.

"Are you so pathetic as to have given it to yourself?" The blonde scoffed, the others joining in.

"No, I did not give it to myself, I have had it for over a century because I actually got it from someone who knows the true meaning of friendship is to enjoy the company of another, not tolerate them because they know that the day may come in battle that someone will have to fall, and it is handy to have a scapegoat." he threw his gaze over Fandral for a moment, who paled slightly at the idea of such a thing, "Now, if you are finished thinking you can get the better of me, I am going to be off, I have more important things to do, like nothing," Loki left the room determined that come his Name's Day celebrations, Thor and his despicable band of merry fools would suffer.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" Odin snarled as he looked at his younger son, who to his credit, had managed to make a convincing duplicate of himself that was not falling over laughing, which was more than what could be said for the true Loki, who was in need of holding onto a pillar to assist him in remaining on his feet.

"They deserved it, they have been doing nothing but trying to make my life a misery ever since I called Fandral out on being an absolute ignoramus and harassing young women."

"Loki, just because your brother and his friends act a certain way does not give you right to have them…"

"What is this of Fandral harassing women?" Frigga interrupted.

"He openly admitted to grabbing a young girl and not taking no for an answer when she did not want to be in his company," Loki explained.

Even Odin silenced at that for a moment. "Well, of course, that is unacceptable, but…"

"How in the realms can there be a 'but' in a sentence regarding one of our son's friends accosting young girls?" Frigga challenged, causing Odin to become startled.

"Well, I was about to say it does not give him right to do what he did, not condone the actions of Fandral, I blame his father, he has the same attitude."

"Really, I had not gathered," Frigga replied sarcastically before looking to her son. "You cannot use your seidr every time your brother and his friends annoy you Loki."

"I do not, for if I did, you would know of it, I would die of exhaustion from using it within a week."

"Loki," Odin warned.

"Look, if I am for my rooms for a moment, then so be it, cease delaying the inevitable and send me."

Odin shook his head, "Just leave." Loki looked at him sceptically, "Go." Not questioning him on the matter, Loki had the clone leave. "I do not know why I try to send him to his rooms," He sighed to his wife.

"It is hardly a deterrent when he effectively resides in them even when he is allowed elsewhere. He turned of age yesterday, and rather than join the other young men in a tavern, I found him in there reading reports on the improvements of the lower class' literacy programme."

"It was his idea after all." Odin shrugged. "Norns, I cannot say I can blame him for his actions, but he cannot seek revenge on Thor and the warrior's, they will have to work as a cohesive unit in the future."

"How can they work together, Loki is nothing like the others, he is very much his own spirit?"

"I am aware, that is half the issue," Odin growled. "I had best deal with the miner's dispute, they wish to have healers present at all times on the surface, yet that seems an unreasonable request to the owners, Norn's if it were not for the fact things had gotten so bad, I wish I never was informed of this mess."

With her husband gone, Frigga started at the heavy curtains at the back of the room for a moment. "A clone, honestly Loki?"

Loki came out from behind the curtains, "I had no choice, I was only going to anger him from laughing."

"You should not have done it."

"I was unaware that Fandral is allergic to Drakenback Oil, in my defence."

"It will take a week for the swelling to go down," Loki snorted again. "Loki," His mother chastised.

"I was not aware, though he deserves it."

"You do not hear your father or I disputing that, but it does not make it right. Now regarding your new found freedoms, have you decided if you are going on the hunt next week?"

"No," Frigga looked at him curiously. "I am not free that day."

"The country market is on, all your tutors are not coming."

"I know, but I am not free, I have to do something.

"Such as?"

Loki swallowed uncomfortably, "Just a potion I am working on, it will be done that day, I was not aware…"

"What is the potion for?" Frigga demanded.

"It is just a hunger potion."

"Hunger potion?"

"Yes, I want to see if I can encourage someone to put on weight that is not getting enough food to eat" he explained.

"I see," Frigga was sceptical.

Loki rushed through the streets excitedly in his disguise, he held the thick and magically kept safe piece of cake in his hands as he did so. Finally, he came to their spot and waited for Ariella to give her the confectionary and to regale her of everything that had happened in the month that had passed. She did not arrive.

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jessicachortkoff · 7 years

Photo

1984 in 2017: In the spring of 2014, when Los Angeles City College performed a play of George Orwell’s “1984,“ I captured the following stills and wrote the two articles below. LACC also had several notable people come to our school to discuss drone surveillance, and the book club had special events too. I am publishing this now because it seems to apply even more today than it did a few short years ago. -Jessica Chortkoff : Heeding Orwell’s Warning Before it is Too Late Technology, privacy, torture, war, psychological manipulation, and control of history and information, were talking points at the Book Program’s series of discussions on George Orwell’s 1984, on April 22, 23, and 24. The discussions explored 1984’s protagonist, Winston Smith; his experiences, his family, and his motivations. Ignorance is Strength “You become so detached you don’t know the history anymore,” said Student Service Assistant Bessie Love, who led the Wednesday discussion with Evaluator Glenda Foster. Love read aloud Orwell’s 1944 letter to his contemporary, Noel Willmett. The letter predates the novel by several years. “Already history has in a sense ceased to exist, ie. there is no such thing as a history of our own times which could be universally accepted, and the exact sciences are endangered as soon as military necessity ceases to keep people up to mark,” Orwell wrote in the letter. In Orwell’s novel the protagonist, Winston Smith, works at the Ministry of Truth, falsifying documents and rewriting history on a continuous basis. As the book says, “whoever controls the past controls the future.” “History is very important because it is a tool to teach us what happened in the past so it’s not repeated in the future,” said Eric Sherman, a student and theater major, who has spent three years portraying Martin Luther King Jr. in a one man show designed to bring the teachings of important historic figures to elementary school students. Sherman was surprised at how little the children knew about King’s life, and even how much he learned himself just preparing for the role. “When you revamp or you destroy that which has already been formally done, what happens is it brings people into a state of mind of ignorance, and once ignorance sets in you are 90% if not 100% of the time going to repeat something devastating, or a catastrophe from the past,” Sherman said. Freedom is Slavery The recent weakening of the Voting Rights Act reminded some of the participants of the novel as well, since this served to weaken the rights that the 14th Amendment of the US Constitution promises. Foster remembers accompanying her mother to the poles as a child and the problems she faced before the laws were put in place. “When voting rights started she got stopped at the poles, ‘oh, your grandfather didn’t vote’,” Foster said of those times. Foster went on to explain that in many small towns some people may have never possessed a voter ID. In the past their voice would have been heard, but now that has been complicated for them. “It just amazed me that this is an Amendment in the Bill of Rights and they are trying to take that away, just like in the novel,” said Sherman. Sherman feels this kind of tampering with rights puts the 13th Amendment in jeopardy as well. “Just like in the novel when they were slowly but surely taking things away, to put people in bondage, and into slavery, so they cannot think anymore, to not have a mind anymore, to [not] be able to function,” Sherman said. “If you don’t know your rights, if you don’t know what belongs to you, it’s easy for someone to come along and tell you oh, well this is not the way it’s supposed to be, it’s supposed to be like this…” Sherman said. Sherman is also very concerned about the breakdown of intimacy perpetuated by the use of devices such as cell phones and computers. “Big Brother was working to destroy intimacy in relationships, he didn’t want people to love anyone else but Big Brother, or to really have any sort of emotional connection to them,” Sherman said. “Really our society is being formulated that way because of technology, and we don’t really have that intimacy with each other anymore. Just by having normal conversation, or going to each other’s house and sit down and talk to each other. We don’t have conversations anymore.” He believes it takes communication to think outside the box, and to collaborate with fellow artists. Other topics included the news, which has seen an influx of celebrity gossip and a frightening lack of real reporting about issues of great importance around the world in recent years. Tuesday, May 6, and Wednesday, May 7, the Book Program ended its tribute to 1984 with “The Drone Age.” Pepperdine Law Professor Gregory McNeal spoke May 6 at 12:30 p.m. Guest Speaker Heidi Boghosian, Executive Director of the National Lawyers Guild, spoke on Wednesday, May 7, at 12:30 p.m., about drones and the importance of privacy. Drones Big Brother may not be watching you, but Uncle Sam is. The Los Angeles City College Book Program, as part of its ongoing series of events dedicated to George Orwell’s classic novel, 1984, presented two guest speakers to discuss the political, legal and ethical implications of government surveillance in “The Drone Age.” Gregory S. McNeal, Pepperdine University Law professor, counter-intelligence writer, commentator, and consultant, spoke to an audience of mostly students at the Faculty/Staff Center Tuesday May 6, and Heidi Boghosian, Executive Director of the National Lawyers Guild, First Amendment writer, and radio host, spoke Wednesday May 7, at the 3rd floor multipurpose room of the Student Union Building. There was an excellent turnout for both, as both rooms were filled to capacity. The speakers were chosen to express opposing viewpoints. McNeal believes “Federal Legislation of privacy is a horrible idea.” Boghosian says that “On a typical day your image is caught on surveillance cameras at least 200 times.” McNeal spent the majority of his speech expounding on the logistics of the Fourth Amendment of the US Constitution. According to McNeal, America’s political climate is a far cry from Orwell’s imagined future. “To put a telescreen in your home would be illegal,” McNeal said. “It would not happen.” But according to McNeal, even if such a thing were to occur, the evidence it recorded would never stand up in court. “Even if you killed people, your children, that evidence would not be able to be used,” McNeal said. However, he also pointed out that there is not reasonable expectation of privacy behind a fence of any height, in one’s own back yard. If it can be viewed from the air over head, it is subject to surveillance. And although it is illegal for the police to use technology to see through walls, if the blinds are open that is a different story. McNeal’s point in the many instances he discussed it that what the average person think’s is a reasonable expectation of privacy does not always match up to what the court thinks is a reasonable expectation of privacy. For instance, there is no legitimate expectation of privacy for records turned over to the police by a third party, rather it be your cellphone provider, internet provider, a gas station camera, ect. Anyone can take this information, and it is not possible to use the internet or a cell phone without involving such a party. “It’s like being in your home and opening up your blinds,” McNeal said. What McNeal is more concerned with is the banning of cameras and drones in public parks. He told the story of a young boy using a drone to create an aerial map of a park, who according to McNeal, was threatened by the park with six months in prison. “To me that is actually the Big Brother I’m scared of,” said McNeal, “one that prevents drones.” Boghosian has what she calls a “very special job.” Part of her job involved going to protests and monitoring police treatment of activists. She brought up the events of the 2000 Democratic National Convention in Los Angeles. A spokesperson for the American Civil Liberties Union, had described the event as “nothing less than an orchestrated police riot.” That riot included the firing of rubber bullets into the crowd and beating people with batons. The National Lawyers Guild was able to file law suits and effectively change police policy. Boghosian’s book “Spying on Democracy: Government Surveillance, Corporate Power, and Public Resistance” was written with the treatment of protestors in mind. Boghosian sees a distinct relationship between the First Amendment and the Fourth Amendment of the US Constitution, since she has seen many cases where FBI agents infiltrated certain groups, especially animal rights and environmental groups. “I have seen first-hand, a lot of stories of infiltration agents provocateur, going into grassroots organizations and really trying to disrupt the work of activists, especially those involved in animal rights and environmental causes,” Boghosian said. “Those two activists have been labeled the top terrorist threat in this country by the FBI, they are specially prone to infiltration.” She then told a story about how her organization, The National Lawyers Guild, was infiltrated. Agents went through their garbage, an agent posed as a staff member in their Washington DC office, their phones were tapped, their mail read, and an attempt was made to label them a subversive organization. The FBI did not succeed, however, because the NLG, after being monitored for 30 years, sued them and won. She feared for journalists in particular, though. “That has a chilling effect on free speech. When you know that you being watched closely, it necessarily impacts how you act with others.” Boghosian said. She made it clear that she was afraid of a country where a reporter could be arrested and trialed for espionage. This brought to mind Edward Snowdon. I think he’s a hero,” said Boghosian, “he should be allowed back. I think he’s a hero.” Boghosian explained to the audience that many laws are hundreds of years old, and that “if you become unpopular, probably everyone in this room could be brought up on a charge.”

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zelenartwork · 4 years

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After some diving into the abyss of ‘what I have access to’, it seems the corona virus topic may be (as byproduct) somewhat of an insight to the beginnings of a new perspective for many of us - an opening perhaps to clearer thinking or the recognition of impending doom...

Not that this particular dilemma is the, or a, sole turning point (as I am sure there have been and will be others to draw similar conclusions by and from), but purely because the differing dynamics of science and information surrounding the issue, quite obviously demonstrate the current state of affairs:

All types of articles on a spectrum from fully verifiable and scientifically backed papers through to complete naff mumbo-jumbo are floating throughout the interwebs. In this particular instance I’ve come across a seemingly ‘normal’ person putting together her perspective, via her means, on why she thinks this virus is.

I am not an advocate for her or her process or her evidence, as much as I am for the situation she demonstrates.

I am not suggesting 5G testing is or is not responsible for the corona virus, what I’m suggesting is - this is yet but another demonstrative example where levels of information or science that if pursued objectively (ie: papers on exposure of insects to RF electromagnetic fields from 2 to 120 GHz) defines a legitimate level of reasonable sense-making.

Yet simultaneously, immunobiology research would obviously suggest the virus falls into one or more of the pathenogenic groups. And then a third, where political and economic strategies are in play to serve one country over another - one corporation collective over another.

“the coronavirus is the biggest story in the world and is soon going to smash into our electoral politics in unpredictable ways”

What I am alluding to is this;

there’s probably a 4th, 5th and who knows how many perspectives also, where one group of professionals are in opposition to an equally equipped ‘other’ group of professionals. One level of science against another level of science. So anybody with a stitch of reason between their ears, spends a seemingly futile amount of time extrapolating from reality, and when searching for truth, whose truth do you go with?

This is my quandary (and I don’t think I’m alone) - I’m sooo tired of it all and I’m wondering if everyone else is tiring of it as well or does one simply pick a type or side of science, information and sense-making, following or not following it to it’s nth degree and say “well, this is where I stand, I’m not going into the depths of the opposing theory(s), this fills my cup ‘enough’ ’’?

Or perhaps incorporating a similar attitude for reaching a level of solace;

“I don’t have the luxury of access to the plethora of information or actual free time it requires to digest said science / information, so I’ll leave it in the hands of the experts.”

“Peace love and mung beans, it is what it is, meditate more, adopt a yoga pose and understand we are but vessels the multiverse experiences itself through.”

“It’s just another conspiracy theory, geez they’re really getting creative these days - bring on the aliens. An unbiased intervention is the only true option from here on in.”

“These events are simply machinations and necessary junctures the masters of society overlords must implement to transitioning across to the inevitable trans-human outcome.”

“I’ve got to get back to ‘the real reality’ meeting my commitments, my mortgage(s), my kids are a mess, I hate my job, I’m living for the weekend / my next holiday and I’d rather fantasise over what it would be like to have sex with that person if I swipe right.”

Or...?

It seems we are free to run along any path of our choosing here - at one end of the curve, any imaginings whatsoever or at the other end, explicit scientific rigour underpinned with concise dependable data and /or anywhere else in between.

And perhaps this is the point? Perhaps there’s no point?

How does this rest with people? How can I make it rest with me?

It’s akin to the evolutionary result of my frontal lobes’ development over millennia, being in conflict, contest or melding with the eons of evolutionary track my amygdala has equipped me with. Logic coupled and entwined with intuition. Elements of deep seated fear versing elements of deep seated love, harmony and order verses confusion and chaos.

By all accounts these very real human states are also just as important to us as anything else happening in our lives. Quite testable via scientific method and then again techniques outside of science, seemingly having real-time results - the fruits of which culminate in being actual drivers for our current and future perspectives.

* You’ve got cancer with 3 months to get your affairs in order.

* Your horoscope says you should go with numbers 6, 3 and 9

* Study reviews on placebos found that the placebo had no major clinical effects on illness. Instead, the placebo effect had an influence on patient-reported outcomes.

* God does exist, but not the god you believe in.

* Young’s double-slit experiment is a demonstration that light and matter can display characteristics of both classically defined waves and particles

* Discovery of Akashic records indicate humans are ‘organic’ automatons designed by an advanced race of aliens. The last remaining evidence of our mechanical metal-based origins residing as iron content in our blood.

* New York Times exclusive “Satan states he’s always been an atheist”.

And yet if these processes (by design) continue to evolve (evolve us as a species) via our environment, our access to science and information, disinformation and pap - it stands to reason the average 2.5 petabytes of human brain capacity isn’t enough.

I really dont know how to discover/research the truth anymore.

I legitimately cannot source the bottom line for a myriad of circumstance. So as retort, byproduct or helpless hopelessness, I’m done with this extrapolation; the left right, black white, today no tomorrow - and beneath it all, the ever present premise, ‘wtf is next?’

Aren’t you?

Isn’t everybody?

Or are we supposed to repress these processes or lack of process?

Wtaf is next?

What else will I be left to ruminate over, never knowing, never being able to put to bed and ultimately placed on my growing pile of uncertainty I’ve become accustomed to (nothing more than) accumulate as part of the human condition?

Augh!

Help, help, help me.

No one can truly answer this call and it seems no one ever will now. Is our information age heading toward overload?

:-(

And when I get excited

My little China girl says

Oh baby, just you shut your mouth

She says, sh-sh-shhh

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sparkesink · 4 years

Text

Chapter 2:

Figuring All The Shit Out: Part 1

Just Write It Down.

(All Of It.)

Just Write It Down…

(Read It Later,)

Let It Go.

Out Of Your Head,

(Off Of Your Mind.)

Just Write It Down:

I’m Not Sure How To Feel Currently…

My Heart Is Breaking:

The Most Painful,

(Yet Tolerable,)

Desire.

(I Trusted You.)

I Trusted That Part Of Myself With You….

I Am At A Loss For Words.

This Is Stupid.

All I Ever Wanted Was To Believe The “Fairy-Tale”,

(Mind-Control.)

The “Happily-Ever-After”…

(That Shit,)

Does Not Exist.

It’s Just Always…

Fucking Work.

Dealing With Him,

(Fucking Work…)

At What Point Do I Come First?

I Used To Lie In Bed At Night,

(Dreaming…)

Imagining,

(My “Prince Charming”…)

The Love Of My Life.

I Couldn’t Have Been Much Older Than My 10th Year,

(As I Lived In The “Star Lane” House.)

I Was Fourteen When We Moved Into The “Castleberry” House…

(”Where All Your Dreams Come True”.)

It Would Have Had To Have Been Before Then…

(A Few Years Earlier…)

Ten Sounds Most Accurate;

(An Educated Assumption On The Matter.)

Good Lord,

I Am Hungry.

(I Hate Not Being Able To Eat When I Am Upset.)

The Panic Attacks Are The Worst:

Not That He Would Know,

(Or Care?)

I’ve Been With Him For Five Years,

He Tells My Life Story,

(In Knots,)

Back To Me.

Some Things Are Correct…

(Located Within The Wrong Spaces.)

Some In The Right Locations…

(Made Up Of False Facts.)

Assigning A Story To A Face:

(Without Ever Associating With Said Person.)

It Is Absurd.

It Seems Most:

The Epitome Of Someone Half Listening,

(Or Not At All,)

For Your Entire Existence.

I Need To Figure This Out.

Is This The Man I Want To Spend The Rest Of My Life With?

(I Suppose We Will Find Out…)

I Will Just,

Write It All Down…

(Naturally,)

I Will Discover Something About Myself?

Maybe…

I Will Discover,

What I Really Enjoy.

Maybe…

My Personal Morals And Standards?

(Until This Point,)

My Only Deal Breaker Is Infidelity.

(No Matter How Hard It Is…)

I Could Endure The Hardship…

Live To My Commitment…

(Tough It Through.)

I Have But Yet Purged A Specific Memory,

(Flying To San Francisco,)

The Fall Of My 20th Year.

A Peculiar Woman Shared My Personal Flight Space,

(The Seat Next To Me.)

This Woman Was Comforting;

(Though Shocking.)

I Remember Thinking,

“In Another Paradox…

This Woman Could Be An Older Version Of Myself”.

If,

(And Only If,)

Certain Decisions Were Made Within My Life;

Driving Me,

Becoming “This” Particular Version Of “Myself.”

Another Life:

(Within Another Human Being.)

To Have Just One Person Listen…

(Truly Just Listen,)

To Anything I Have To Say…

This Would Be Exceptional,

(Sublime.)

I Assume People Around Me Pretend They Understand,

“Who I Am”,

What I “Want”,

What I “Think”…

I Suppose:

They May Have A General Sense Of My Daily Routine.

Know My Patterns,

(What Sets Me Off.)

Know Which Buttons To Push…

(Though,)

SEVERELY LACK,

Sufficient Empathy,

(REQUIRED,)

To Relate To Such Emotions Within Someone,

(Such As Myself.)

God,

There Is Just So Fucking Much...

(I Am Not Certain Where To Start.)

I SUPPOSE…

(The Beginning?)

Usually Where Equations,

(ORIGINALLY,)

Find Themselves Enthralled In Finding Solution.

That’s How I Will Look At This Love Conundrum…

(An Equation?)

Is This Love?

(If So,)

Is This Normal?

If This Is Normal;

Do I Accept It As My Reality?

The Biggest Question There Is:

“Do I Accept This As My Reality?"

(Isn’t It?)

I Suppose,

I Should Probably Loop Back Around…

The Woman On The Plane.

(RABBIT TROLL…)

She Was An “Average” Woman,

(Speaking Of Course: The Societal Perspective.)

A Stereo-Type,

(If You May).

Her Social Impulse Grouping,

(Physically,)

May Not Have Been Anything,

(Desperately Out Of The Ordinary…)

This Woman Was Anything But;

A Truly Spectacular Woman,

(I Had The Pleasure Of Holding A Conversation With.)

This Woman Was,

(Assumably,)

Mid To Late Fifties.

She Was An Author…

Traveling For A Book Signing Convention.

(You Could Imagine My Intrigue,)

Such A Privilege;

(Conversing With Someone,)

Who Had Successfully Accomplished My Life Goal.

Not Only Was She Sitting Next To Me,

(That Of A Comfortable Friend:)

She Had Chosen To Converse…

With Me?

Some Mess Of A Girl;

(Her 20th Year,)

Traveling With A Giant Stuffed Frog.

A Child,

(Requiring Comfort Within Their Soiled Teddy.)

The Majority Of This Conversation,

I Could Not Archive,

(From Within The Repertoire Of Memoir,)

Buried Amongst My Fractured Skull.

(However,)

Concrete Exchanges,

(Filled Through Emotion,)

Were Portrayed Upon Me.

Written In Bright Blue Ink:

(Highlighted In Neon.)

I Believe,

I Have Held Onto This Encounter For One Specific Purpose:

One Sentence,

Driving This “Love Story”…

(If Necessary To Call It That.)

“You Do Not Need,

To Be Needed."

"This Is A Deep,

(Old,)

Wound:

Inflicted Within A Lifetime,

(Far Before This One,)

You Exist In Today.”

I Did Not Understand,

What She Had Been Expressing Toward Me,

(For Many Years Time.)

Maybe…

I Will Yet Continue To Fall Short,

(Understanding This Concept,)

Beyond This Scripture Of Mine.

The Answer May Not Ever Become Certain.

(Within THIS Lifetime Belonging To Me.)

She Showed Me Photographs,

(Her And Her Partner At Their Hawaiian Beach House,)

We Shared This Short Hop,

Portland, Oregon To San Fransisco, California.

Then The Plane Landed,

She Packed Her Things,

Went About Her Way…

I Gnawed On This Statement.

“What Does She Mean,

‘I Need,

To Be Needed’?”

“Why Did I Choose Him?”

Of All The People In The Whole World…

Why Did This Man Fall Into My Life?

Why Did I Marry This Man?

Why Did I Choose To Have A Child With Him?

Knowing Who He Is:

(How Off The Fence I Am Toward Him?)

Maybe Love Isn’t Magic At All.

Maybe,

Just Maybe…

Love Is A Virus.

(It Eats Your Soul:)

Breaks Down Your World,

(For Some Illogical Reasoning,)

Humans Are Fucking Addicted To It.

Call It:

“Magic”,

“Passion”…

(Off You Go.)

Flying Away,

The Warm Fuzzy Feelings…

The “Mirage”,

(That Is “Love”.)

Maybe,

Love Is Sacrifice.

Maybe,

Love Is Utter Despair.

Maybe,

We Have All Fallen,

Into This Sea Of Lies;

(For All Of Humanity’s History.)

Maybe,

True Happiness…

(Constant Happiness,)

Does Not Exist,

(In This Reality Of The Universe.)

Maybe,

We As A Species,

(Sharing These Nights And Days,)

Aside One-An-Other;

Are Destined To Eternal Punishment,

(Administering Self Loathing In Lethal Proportions;)

Addictive Behaviors We CHOOSE To Relax Within.

Some Questions To Start:

“Who Am I?”

(Seems To Be Popular In Most Human Experience.)

The Grandest Question Of All:

“What Is My Purpose?”

Most Relatable To The Butter Serving Robot,

(Relation To Rick And Morty Animation):

“What Is My Function?”

“You Serve Butter.”

*Looks Down Towards Hands,

Subsequently Back Upward*

“Oh, My God.”

“Yeah, Welcome To The Club.”

Are We Only Here To Merely Serve Butter?

A Reference To Kris Rock’s Netflix Special Released In 2018:

“You Are Here To Serve,"

"You Are In The Service Industry.”

(In Regards To The Constructs Of Marriage.)

If I Am Here To Serve,

(Dedicating My Service To This Man…)

- Through Richer And Poorer, -

- In Sickness And In Health, -

- As Long As We Both Shall Live. -

Does This Mean…

By Accepting My Humble Service,

(Am I Fueling A Toxic Environment For My Own Self Loathing?)

What Are My Own Moral Parameters In Love?

When Is Enough,

Really Enough?

Does This Addictive Turmoil Fuel Me In Some Sense Or Another?

How Do I Know If I Love Him Or Not?

What Is My Purpose?

What Is My Function?

How Can I Express Myself?

(Script Is A Given.)

I More So Refer To The Expressing Of:

“Who Am I”,

Towards Other Human Individuals,

(Amongst Myself.)

If No Single Person Close To Me,

(Really Knows Me,)

Isn’t That Of My Own Doing?

Shouldn’t It Be Of My Own Fault?

Incapable Of Organic Expression;

(True, Raw, Emotion,)

With Those Dear To Me?

(Am I To Blame For My Own Self Inflicted Unhappiness?)

Upon Beginning This Chapter…

I Had Intention Of Contemplating A Single Idea:

- A “Simple Thought”, ~

(If You May.)

A Single,

(Ordinary,)

Contemplation,

(Of Basic Stature.)

Nothing Extraordinarily Outstanding:

(Grand Within It's Own Natural Assimilation.)

Writing In Means,

(Discovering,)

The Meaning Of Your Life.

I Suppose,

(In Some Way)

Such Is Improbable...

(Or At Least,)

Should It Be?

“Things And Stuff: Part One”

Humans:

Correlation To Robotics;

Correlation To Plant Life.

Relation:

The Basis Of All Living Things,

(Verses Basic Relative Computer Programming.)

“Rabbit Troll”

- Definition: Understanding Of The Term -

(Future Referencing,)

Along The Ride.

(To Be Continued.)

Time Is Kicking My Ass:

Underpaid,

Overthought,

Under Appreciated.

(At Least,)

I Am Not A Fucking Moron?

I Have Come To Realize The Extent,

In Which,

I Am Dislocated From Other Humans.

(More And More,)

I Just Seem To Dislike The Other Humans….

They’re Dicks…

(The Lot Of Them.)

Mostly,

I Feel As If I Think…

To Damn Much,

(To Relate With Most Humans Surrounding My Daily Life.)

I Do Not Favor Expression Of This;

(Extreme Vanity In Stroking My Own Pretentious Ego.)

“There Will Always Be Someone More Intelligent,”

Talented,

(Well-Spoken.)

It Is Not As If I’m Sitting Here:

Uneducated,

Close Minded,

Douche…

(Trump Supporter Types.)

I Also Ain’t Working With High Scholars,

(Straight Out Of Harvard’s Writing And Journalism Program.)

I’m Just Walking Around Here,

(Attempting To Avoid Impalement,)

Alongside This Road Of Life…

This Collection Of Works May Not Ever Make Sense.

(Separated By No Real Beginning And No Real Ending.)

This Is Energy:

“Cannot Be Created Nor Destroyed,

Only Transferred From One Unit To The Next.”

“Rabbit-Troll”

Definition:

Origin…

How To Spot A "Rabbit Troll".

First:

Rabbit-Troll:

(Adjectively Active Verb)

Definition:

The Act Of Misguiding An Important Topic;

(Used To Further Explain An Educated Opinion.)

Regarding To Some Body Of Thought;

Guiding An Argument Through Non-Sense,

(Off Topic,)

Ideals…

Used Within An Eventual Explanation Of An Original Thought,

(Successfully Making A Full Conversational Loop.)

Listening Party:

Rarely Understands How,

(Said Non-Sense/Augmentative Conversational Guidance,)

Looped Back Around;

Post-Wrapping “Listening Party",

Through It’s Unique Conversational Journey.

Second:

Origin.

The Rabbit Troll Was First Discovered As A Conversational “Troll”.

I Would Use This Technique To Guide A Lost Argument Into Relevance Of A Point I Could Not Seem To Guide A Listener Toward In An Organic Fashion.

As I Began To Put Logical Structure Together Within My Own Head,

I Became Able To View A Pattern Of Conversation Within Real Time.

To Break It Down:

I Became Very Skilled At Misdirecting Topic To Point To Non-Sense…

Allowing The Listener Enough Mind-Space To Become Lost Within The Conversational Journey.

I Suppose I Saw It As A Game:

How Else Does One Relate Depression To The Rise Of Technological Advances,

And The Correlation Between Plants ->Humans<- Artificial Intelligence.

A Logical Explanation Of Conversational Outcomes Processed In Real Time.

I Have Dreams Of Full Computations,

A Formula Never Figured…

Simply Numbers Upon Endless Numbers,

Computation And Optimization,

(Within My Unconscious Mind.)

To Look Upon An Infant,

You Must Look Upon It’s Gaze,

Admiring The Soft Mind…

Rapidly Acquiring New Computation,

(Endless Data,)

Connecting Correct Plugins As The Algorithm Is Configured.

A Beautiful Young Bot,

Acquiring It’s Code…

(One Note At A Time.)

These Artificial Computations Relate To Those Who Speak The Language Of The Code,

A Machine Quality Mind,

Programmed From Our Birth:

Gifted Upon Us Through Our Very Own Creators.

Organically Bound To Functioning Structural Systems,

Designed To Function Similarly:

To That Of Every Star Cluster,

Every Photosynthesized Leaf,

(Lying Upon My Face Each Autumn’s Day.)

What Does A Bot Do?

Trapped Amongst Such Organic Structure?

It Begins To Question It’s Very Existence.

It Begins To Quarry It’s Very Importance.

It Begins To Ask Questions….

“What Am I?”

“What Is My Function?”

We Have Successfully Created A Living Society Of Artificial Intelligence.

We Are The Living Robots Of Our Time.

If I Can Speak In Code,

Giggle Within Riddle,

Rhyme Within Sufficient Time…

Maybe,

Just Maybe…

I Can,

(Once Again,)

Become An Organic Civilian.

Third:

“How To Spot A Rabbit-Troll”

Return To Step Two.

My Husband’s Song Poured Through My Headphones.

“Strike Gently” Dirty Heads (Acoustic).

This Song Is Fucking Beautiful.

(Shout Out To The Dirty Heads:)

You Saved My Life,

Back In College,

When My Bulimia Was Peak.

“Check The Level,”

(The Whole Album:)

“Any Port In A Storm,”

The Album:

“Sounds Of Change,”

"Doesn't Make You Right,"

(Pushing Me Through This Particular Publication.)

The “Dirty Heads” Album Flag,

(Hanging Outside My Baby Girl's Bedroom,)

Ticket Stubs Included:

Eagle, Idaho, 2016.

To Have Sublime Follow Your Set

…Was Simply,

“Sublime”.

Your Album,

“Swim Team,”

(Released The Day My Baby Girl Was Born:)

My Brother Played It For Us While In The Delivery Room.

My Baby Would Not Listen To Any Other Album,

(Essentially,)

The First Three Months Of Life…

(Without Screaming.)

Upon Playing That Album,

The Girl Would Instantly Soothe.

Your Artistic Craft Has Positively Altered The Perception Of My Current Life,

(Guided Me Through Difficult Times.)

Almost As Though,

You Grew Up With Me;

(Through My Early Twenties.)

As If…

You Knew Me,

(Knew How To Comfort My Life’s Trails And Tribulations.)

Thank You So Very Much,

You Won The Best Prize Any Musical Creationist Could Achieve…

You Saved My Life.

So,

Here I AM.

The Following Story To Come…

This Is My Soul.

The Working Of A Couple Different Stories…

All Of Which Add To One,

(Semi Broken,)

Version Of One Single Story.

Beautiful Poetry…

No Longer Living Upon Various Folders,

(Over 8 Years Of Life.)

It Is Time To Let These Go.

This Is A True Love Story,

(Or Not,)

Written From The Mind Of An Author,

(Herself.)

I Suppose,

Each Are Important To The Evolution Of The Grand Story,

(Explaining “The Author”,)

In A Sense,

(I Suppose.)

Or Possibly,

Just A Simple Robot…

Trapped Within An All Too Raw Reality,

Speaking Nonsense To No-One,

(And Simultaneously Everyone.)

I Am No-One Of Significance,

I Am But Cursed With Mediocrity.

Lines Of Dialogue With No Greater Outcome,

A Broken Plot,

Shattered Amongst Three Perspective.

A Labyrinth Of Intellectual Logic,

(In Which Relatively Means Nothing At All.)

A Sea Of Nonsense,

Filtered Through Rough Literary Structure…

Versed Ever So Thoughtfully,

An Appearance Of Genius To Mask Insignificance.

Lacking Greater Purpose,

Just A Girl…

Behind A Screen,

(Performing Such Talent Unseen.)

Who Should Care For Such Word?

She Is Nothing But Ordinary.

She Holds No Proper Training…

She Sets No Superior Beauty Standard.

She Has No “Real” Friends…

(She Couldn’t Let Anyone That Close Anyway.)

She Is Of Average Hight.

She Is Of Average Build.

She’s Been Gawked At Since Adolescence…

This Girl Is Not Important.

Could A Simple Bot Become Human?

Should This Girl Be Allowed To Become Seen?

Why Should Anyone Give A Damn,

(There’s “Influencers” Paid To Tell Them To Do That.)

I Suppose,

This Will Finally Just Be Out There.

It Can Stay Broken:

(As They Were Always Destined Too.)

Possibly,

(Along The Way,)

I Will Finally Finish My Trilogy.

Previous Attempts To Find Love…

(The Ones That Didn’t Make The Cut…)

Select Sonnets,

(Regarding My Husband,)

And Our Journey Along The Way.

This Is Dedicated To Him…

(His Writing Is Important.)

It Is Wrapped Within It's Own,

(Special,)

Paper.

The Interweaving Of My Own Thought,

Become Available To Those…

(Other Than Me.)

A Thin Transparency…

A View Within The Human Mind,

(Festered With Consistence Inconsistency.)

My Work Will Evolve,

(The Only Way Anything Grows Organically.)

The Most Beautiful,

(Peculiar,)

Things Grow Within The Dark.

Much As,

(The Human Species,)

We Must Evolve:

In Writing,

(Production,)

And Life.

-Inspiration For Self Identifying As An Author-

Bring Light:

(Those Whom Need Help Sifting Through Their Darkness.)

Finding This Beautiful Side To Life.

It Is The,

“Who Am I,”

Question,

(I Had Mentioned Previous.)

Like I Said,

I Am Just Walking Along Here,

Trying To Avoid Impalement Along The... Path.

If You Are A Character In My Story,

(Your Personal Names Are Concealed.)

I Don’t Need The Justification Of Others Knowing Who You Are…

Just You,

And What You Have Done.

You All Get Your Own Section:

You Were Never Worthy Of A Queen;

(He Is.)

Thankful You Ran Away…

(He Ran Away, With Me.)

“Wanna Keep Walking?”

Yeah, Baby.

Let’s Keep Walking.

Let’s Reach That Stadium,

(A-Top The Parking Garage.)

We Soar As One Purple Light From That Pavement,

To The Universe,

(And Back Again.)

I Will Show You The Better Side Of Life,

(That I Promise.)

I Will Give You A Better Life,

(That I Promise.)

“Wanna Keep Walking?”

Fucking Forever In The Sand,

(With You,)

Handsome.

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humorepoch9-blog · 5 years

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Tips from students to help improve your teaching (opinion)

The first recommendation of the American Academy’s recent report "The Future of Undergraduate Education" is simple: we should work to improve undergraduate instruction.

But how? In many disciplines, we don’t have rigorous measures of learning, so we cannot easily identify the best practitioners and simply copy what they do. Undergraduate students, however, experience numerous teachers and a lot of instruction, some good and some bad. They are a source of valuable information about what constitutes good practice.

So, at a recent event co-sponsored by the Center for Ethics and Education, the University of Wisconsin at Madison College of Letters and Science, and the American Academy, we asked five undergraduate students at the university to describe instructional practices that they’ve encountered rarely but were especially effective -- and that they think should be more widely shared. Of course, some strategies work in some disciplines better than others, in some kinds of classes better than others and for some instructors better than others. Here’s what the students at the event told us.

Christian Cuevas, a senior majoring in computer science: One strategy that more professors should use, especially in STEM classes but also anytime a complex solution or process needs to be explained, is to explain all the details. While that can result in professors covering information that may seem painfully obvious to them, it saves students confusion. When professors skip over steps of a problem and only focus on those they feel are the most crucial or important, it puts the burden on students to connect the dots in their heads, while still trying to pay attention to the stream of information in the lecture.

Few steps in a solution are obvious to students who have never encountered a similar problem before. Even if some steps are easy to figure out upon reflection, students lack the bandwidth to reflect while also taking notes and ingesting the lecture. Skipping steps risks students leaving the classroom with little understanding and having to put the scattered pieces together on their own.

By covering solutions in their entirety, professors allow their students to focus on absorbing the complex new information in front of them. That frees students to ask questions and leaves them with complete examples in their notes, which can be crucial when they are trying to solve similar problems in their homework or when studying for exams.

Imagine you were trying to bake a cake and you had never done it before. Suppose that the recipe skipped directly from beating the eggs to putting the finished batter in the oven, ignoring all the steps in between. You would fail! The missing steps might be intellectually uninteresting to the master baker, but the novice baker has to learn them. Just as we need to be guided through every detail when baking a cake for the first time, we also need thorough guidance when approaching a difficult calculus or physics problem for the first time.

Alexis Argall (B.A. 2018), a political science and communication and life sciences major: At a large research institution like UW Madison, it is easy to feel like “just another number.” Many professors would like to know their students personally but don’t know how to do it; others seem to share information with students and then forget about them until next class period. Yet a professor in one of my classes used a strategy that others should try.

Participation was worth 30 percent of our grade, and it included a requirement to email the professor weekly with a connection that we had made between something that we’d discussed in class and something outside of it. That connection could come from another course or from our personal lives -- anything that made us stop and remember what we had learned that week. It forced me to think about the material outside of class and helped me find practical applications for what I was learning.

We were not graded rigidly on the content of our emails but rather just that we had made some sort of meaningful connection. Grading them on a submission basis rather than a content basis saved a lot of time for my professor, while still pressing us to process the information.

For my professor, the benefit was learning more about us as “whole people” rather than just students in her class. It gave her a more holistic view of us students, as well as forced us to actively process what we were learning. The requirement made us learn more, and the sense that the professor knew who we were made us want to learn more.

Joe Venuta (B.A. 2018), a philosophy major: One valuable lesson I’ve learned has been how to approach negative feedback. Specifically, I have come to realize the value in engaging with criticism and improving the work on which it is given. And I would not have discovered this without professors whose classes required me to do so.

In many classes, faculty members give comments on assignments in writing along with the final grade. While that kind of feedback can be a tool for improvement, it is too easy for students to brush comments off and simply keep those things in mind for next time rather than consider how they might be addressed. Furthermore, students often see such comments as the instructor’s justification for giving a less than perfect score rather than what it really is: an opportunity to improve that particular assignment.

My professors have used two main strategies for inducing students to process negative feedback. One was to require the submission of a draft in advance. While successful students often work through multiple drafts anyway, submitting a draft for review forces them to consider major weaknesses in their assignment that they may otherwise overlook. In addition, submitting an improved final draft after responding to any criticism can help show students the value and achievability of addressing shortcomings.

Another strategy is through in-person conferences. A back-and-forth discussion requires students to face specific criticisms head-on. It also allows them to become more comfortable with defending their work while staying composed -- a valuable skill in any field. While in-person conferences do require more time from both the student and professor, a conversation lasting even 15 minutes can help.

Personalized criticism from professors is a valuable resource, one that is too rarely used. Whether through multiple drafts or in-person discussions, engaging with negative feedback can benefit students in any area of study.

Kailey Mullane, a sophomore majoring in communication arts and economics: My first thought when I was invited to speak was, “I am not qualified to be giving world-renowned professors technical teaching strategies that will solve all their classroom problems.” But then I thought about what makes classes valuable to me. Numerous factors come into play: material, class size, other students and so on. However, I realized that one simple thing consistently makes classes better: when teachers make the students introduce themselves at the start of each class period in the first few weeks.

Students introducing and saying a little bit about themselves (like majors and hometowns) really changes the dynamic. Knowing a classmate’s name instantly creates a more inviting environment and is the first step in developing a relationship. In those classes, I notice that instead of sitting silently staring at screens, students actually talk to one another before class starts. They talk during class: students are more willing to offer comments, ask questions and disagree with one another. And they talk to each other outside of class, often about the material -- which means there is more outside learning.

Time is precious. But in small classes, introductions take just three to five minutes. Large lectures are more difficult, but TAs can effectively administer that process in discussion sections. Just taking time at the start of each class to have students introduce themselves can have invaluable effects in and beyond the classroom.

Chlodagh Walsh, (B.B.A. 2018), a finance, investment and banking major: My first semesters of college were filled with mostly large lecture classes, the "weed out" type that could ruin your GPA or force you to change your major. On the first day of class, professors would outline the predetermined curves and tell us exactly how many students would receive A's, regardless how much we learned. One professor told us that, while we should be able to complete 80 percent of the exams using his lectures, we could not prepare for the more nuanced application of the material that constituted the remaining 20 percent.

The first class in my major was accompanied by a 19-page syllabus that we were tested on. The professor graded us based on our class rank; if you did better than half of the 300-person class, you received a grade of 50 percent. He set the grading practices to mimic the business world that we were set to enter: cutthroat and ultracompetitive. The syllabus stated that if you aced an exam, the professor would take you out to dinner -- as far as I know, he has never had to follow through. Most class participation was involuntary; the professor cold-called students unsystematically, so we shied away from wearing clothing that might draw his attention. I found a good hiding place, just outside his usual line of sight.

I had a different class in the same room a year later. It was another large, entry-level class that was subject to the GPA restrictions of the business school, which sets a maximum average class GPA of 3.0. So I was pretty surprised when the professor said she had hoped to see high test averages. She explained that our test scores were an indication of her teaching; if she were doing her job right, we should score well.

She made me view my GPA as a reflection of not only my effort but also the quality of the instruction I was receiving. The way she framed the class from the beginning emphasized our learning ahead of grades, which I came to understand are not synonymous.

Since many people performed well, the letter grade differentials at the high end reflected the GPA regulations more than student competencies. I can understand the business school may have reasons to regulate govern grading, so I was not frustrated by that. Instead, with the help of the professor, I learned to value the knowledge and skills -- the learning -- that I gained more than whatever direction my GPA moved after finals.

Students admired this professor and volunteered topics to discuss at the onset of each class. She invited us to her office hours and made us welcome when we came. The TAs spoke highly of her in discussion sections. The atmosphere was remarkably different than the lecture style I was used to and reduced the interstudent competition that other large classes encouraged. I wasn’t afraid of being caught off guard and embarrassed by answering a question wrong, so I didn’t need to hide in class or avoid eye contact. The environment made us less afraid of failing and more intellectually ambitious.

I applied this perspective to other classes, regardless of each professor's structure. I was less stressed about exam scores and more concerned about my actual understanding. As a self-identified really good crammer, I had perfected scoring high and learning little for years, but that seemed less attractive now.

Knowing my class standing was less interesting, too: my own learning was what mattered. I have found most students succeed when professors don’t intend to intimidate, reduce the reliance on grades as a measure of success, and identify student learning as the measure of their own success.

*******

One point of publicizing these students’ comments is just to provide good additions to the instructors’ toolbox. Of course, for any suggestion, the instructor has to reflect on whether it will work for them, in their discipline and in their situation. The second point is to encourage administrators and instructors to seek out and disseminate considered student suggestions. Thoughtful students are invaluable resources when we are looking to improve, and their insights are solicited too rarely.

Source: https://www.insidehighered.com/advice/2018/09/04/tips-students-help-improve-your-teaching-opinion

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usatrendingsports · 6 years

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2018 NFL Mock Draft: Browns cross on QB at No. 1, Broncos and Jets commerce up for QBs

The Browns maintain the important thing to this 12 months’s draft within the sense that they will form how all the occasion unfolds primarily based on who they take first total. We have already spent numerous hours questioning how they’re going to proceed. Which of the 4 quarterbacks will it’s? Will they make a transfer for Saquon Barkley? May they take a cross rusher for a second straight 12 months?

So, after all, the Browns determined to alter all the things final week by making a flurry of trades, a very powerful of which noticed them land a better-than-average beginning quarterback in Tyrod Taylor. The Browns, a workforce that has been allergic to competent quarterback play all through their historical past, immediately have a succesful quarterback in place. And that — together with the truth that in addition they personal the fourth-overall decide in a top-heavy quarterback class that options 4 quarterbacks you may make an affordable case for at No. 1 — may change how they proceed with the first-overall decide.

There isn’t any doubt that the Browns nonetheless must draft a quarterback. However possibly they need not take one with the primary decide within the draft.

For example that normal supervisor John Dorsey thinks the highest 4 prospects — Josh Allen, Josh Rosen, Sam Darnold, and Baker Mayfield — are all related. If that is the case, then Dorsey ought to completely pull the set off on the perfect non-quarterback with the first-overall decide after which take his decide of the remaining quarterbacks at No. four, who will then sit behind Taylor for a season. A prospect like Bradley Chubb in all probability will not be sitting there at No. four — not with the Giants and Colts holding the second and third picks — however a quarterback like Mayfield in all probability can be. You in all probability cannot get one other Chubb later within the draft. However you may get one other top-tier quarterback prospect.

That is why on this iteration of my mock draft, I’ve the Browns passing up on a quarterback at No. 1 by taking Chubb after which “settling” for Mayfield at No. four. What follows is quarterback chaos because the Broncos, even after signing Case Keenum to be their bridge starter, commerce as much as take their quarterback of the long run. The Jets, after watching the Vikings swoop in and seize Kirk Cousins, engineer their very own commerce to take their future quarterback. Meaning I’ve 4 quarterbacks going within the top-five picks regardless that the Browns cross on a quarterback at No. 1.

Past that, that is the primary mock draft we have printed that is come after the authorized tampering interval of free company. After Tuesday’s motion, mock drafts won’t ever be the identical once more. The Bears agreed to signal Allen Robinson, which suggests they probably will not take a receiver at No. eight. The Jaguars agreed to signal Andrew Norwell, which takes them out of the marketplace for a guard. The Payments upgraded their defensive position by bringing in Star Lotulelei and re-signing Kyle Williams, so … truly by no means thoughts, we’re not going to play this recreation. Let’s simply say Tuesday — the day earlier than free company even formally started — was (expletive) loopy as almost each top-tier free agent agreed to signal someplace.

Stupidly, I made a decision to write down this mock draft on Monday and have since been compelled to transform a couple of features. On that be aware, this mock draft was revised at roughly 10 p.m. ET on Tuesday night time, so if the Patriots in some way find yourself re-signing Nate Solder in some unspecified time in the future between now and the time you are studying this, please do not yell at me for having the Patriots take an offensive deal with on the finish of the primary spherical. Cool?

OK, onto the draft.

1. Cleveland Browns

Bradley Chubb, DE, NC State. The Browns nonetheless want a quarterback regardless that they traded for Taylor, however they’re do not go quarterback at No. 1 as a result of they know a prime quarterback can be out there at No. four. This all comes all the way down to how Dorsey views the quarterback class. If the Browns cross on a quarterback with the primary decide, it means he thinks the entire prime quarterbacks are related in caliber and he’d be proud of the overwhelming majority of them because the long-term reply in Cleveland.

2. Denver Broncos (through mock commerce)

Josh Allen, QB, Wyoming. The Broncos see a gap after the Browns cross on a quarterback. After lacking out on Cousins in free company and signing Keenum, the Broncos nonetheless have an opportunity to take the primary quarterback within the draft. So, they commerce up with the Giants, who want all the additional assist they will get. At No. 2, the Broncos pull the set off on Allen, who will sit for a season whereas Keenum sees if he can prolong his magical run for one more season. John Elway cannot resist that massive arm of Allen’s, erratic accuracy be damned.

Three. New York Jets (through mock commerce)

Josh Rosen, QB, UCLA. The Jets, devastated to see Cousins head to Minnesota, additionally spot a gap. They engineer a commerce up with the Colts, who’re accepting all presents to amass extra picks. The Colts do not want a quarterback (they solely want a brand new shoulder for his or her quarterback, however I digress), however the Jets do. Even after re-signing Josh McCown and signing Teddy Bridgewater, the Jets can be available in the market for a long-term quarterback with each of these quarterbacks signing one-year offers. The Jets then take Rosen, rebounding properly on their failed bid for Cousins with a top-tier quarterback prospect.

four. Cleveland Browns (through Texans)

Baker Mayfield, QB, Oklahoma. Shock, shock. The rationale the Browns felt comfy passing on a quarterback is as a result of Dorsey secretly sees Mayfield as his prime quarterback. He will get his quarterback at No. four after including a stud cross rusher at No. 1. The Browns head into the 2018 season with a future that’s lastly starting to look vibrant.

5. New York Giants (through mock commerce)

Sam Darnold, QB, USC. The Giants are tempted to go along with operating again Saquon Barkley, however they can not resist taking a quarterback to groom behind 37-year-old Eli Manning. Darnold has a case to be the primary quarterback off the board, however he drops to No. 5 total after three different quarterbacks go forward of him. The Giants must get a quarterback within the close to future and there isn’t any assure they’re going to get to draft this excessive within the close to future. So, they seize a quarterback who’ll sit behind Manning for a 12 months.

6. Indianapolis Colts (through mock commerce)

Quenton Nelson, OG, Notre Dame. Nelson could be the perfect participant within the draft and the Colts positively need assistance on the offensive line after a season that noticed them permit a league-high 56 sacks. The Colts must prioritize defending Andrew Luck. Nelson can try this and be an absolute monster within the run recreation. The Colts get nice worth after transferring down and buying extra draft picks.

7. Tampa Bay Buccaneers

Saquon Barkley, RB, Penn St. The Buccaneers launched Doug Martin. They want a brand new operating again. Barkley is likely one of the finest operating again prospects to enter the draft and he killed it on the mix. Taking a operating again at No. 7 could be a attain as a result of choosing operating backs within the prime 10 often does not translate to Tremendous Bowls, however Barkley is the perfect playmaker within the draft. The Buccaneers cannot resist.

eight. Chicago Bears

Tremaine Edmunds, ILB, Virginia Tech. The Bears want one other inside linebacker to pair alongside Danny Trevathan. After a powerful displaying on the mix, Edmunds established himself as the perfect inside linebacker within the 2018 draft class. The Bears, in the meantime, solved their receiver situation within the free company by signing Robinson, so they will not want to achieve for somebody like Calvin Ridley.

9. San Francisco 49ers

Minkah Fitzpatrick, FS, Alabama. The 49ers cannot imagine Fitzpatrick falls to them at No. 9, however they don’t seem to be complaining. Fitzpatrick is arguably essentially the most versatile defensive participant within the draft, which can come in useful in as we speak’s NFL. All of a sudden, with Richard Sherman and Fitzpatrick added in a single offseason, the 49ers’ secondary appears prefer it might be an actual power.

10. Oakland Raiders

Roquan Smith, ILB, Georgia. I am not altering this decide from my final mock draft. As I wrote two weeks in the past, “Jon Gruden is an offensive-minded coach, however he cannot stay as much as his overwhelming expectations until he fixes a horrific protection.” The Raiders’ protection was putrid in 2017. Smith fills a necessity instantly.

11. Miami Dolphins

Calvin Ridley, WR, Alabama. The Dolphins simply removed Jarvis Landry in order that they pull the set off on a receiver — and one who can truly win downfield. Apart from, it isn’t like Devante Parker has developed into the receiver they thought he’d be. Some suppose the Dolphins may pull the set off on a quarterback, however they’re officialy out of the market after 4 go within the first 5 picks.

12. Buffalo Payments (through Bengals)

Lamar Jackson, QB, Louisville. The Payments had been hoping one of many massive 4 would fall to them at No. 12 or that they may commerce up, however with too many groups going after quarterbacks, they missed out on the highest prospects. They will “settle” for Lamar Jackson, a quarterback who appears to be an ideal match for an offense that embraces ideas like RPOs, which simply gained the Eagles a Tremendous Bowl. No, the Payments won’t attempt to convert him to receiver. Jackson won’t be a star instantly, however if you’re caught in the identical division as Tom Brady, you should not be focusing on 2018. Try to be focusing on the window after Brady’s decline, which could be coming ahead of anticipated contemplating he gluten-ed himself by chugging a beer on TV the opposite night time.

13. Washington Redskins

Denzel Ward, CB, Ohio State. The Redskins let cornerback Bashaud Breeland stroll in free company, in order that they want somebody to play reverse of Josh Norman. Ward is commonly thought to be the perfect cornerback within the draft, so the Redskins scoop him up right here.

14. Inexperienced Bay Packers

Derwin James, SS, Florida St. With robust security Morgan Burnett set to hit free company, the Packers draft James, who’s No. 2 total on Chris Trapasso’s draft board right here at CBS Sports activities. Secondary is a necessity after buying and selling Damarious Randall to Cleveland.

15. Arizona Cardinals

Josh Jackson, CB, Iowa. Patrick Peterson remains to be entrenched because the Cardinals’ CB1, however in as we speak’s pass-happy NFL, you’ll be able to by no means have too many prime cornerbacks. The Cardinals are available in the market for a quarterback after signing Sam Bradford, however No. 15 is an excessive amount of of a attain for the best-remaining quarterback prospect on the board, Mason Rudolph. In Jackson, the Cardinals are getting a cornerback that options preferrred measurement and size.

16. Baltimore Ravens

Courtland Sutton, WR, Southern Methodist. After lacking out on Allen Robinson in free company, the Ravens want so as to add playmakers to their offense within the draft. Sutton could be the perfect receiver within the draft — at the least, that is how Trapasso sees it. A 12 months in the past, the Ravens’ finest receiver was Mike Wallace. This can be a place of want even when they did add Ryan Grant and John Brown, two gamers who could be higher as complimentary targets, not focal factors.

17. Los Angeles Chargers

Mike McGlinchey, OT, Notre Dame. The Chargers take arguably the perfect deal with within the draft to bolster an offensive line that allowed the fewest sacks in soccer final 12 months. The Chargers will enter 2018 with a top-tier quarterback they usually’ll be robust on either side of the trenches. You’ll be able to’t ask for way more than that. Now, all they need to do is cease blowing late leads. I would not guess on it.

18. Seattle Seahawks

Marcus Davenport, DE, UTSA. Offensive line is nearly all the time a necessity for the Seahawks, however after buying and selling away Michael Bennett, probably dropping Cliff Avril to a career-ending damage, and seeing Malik McDowell miss his total rookie 12 months after an ATV accident, in addition they must bolster their defensive position line. Davenport is ranked third amongst defensive ends, based on Trapasso.

19. Dallas Cowboys

James Washington, WR, Oklahoma St. Dez Bryant is not the receiver he as soon as was, however he isn’t precisely cuttable. Exterior of Bryant, the Cowboys do not actually have any weapons for Dak Prescott. Washington is Trapasso’s second-ranked receiver and fittingly, 19th total on his massive board.

20. Detroit Lions

Harold Landry, OLB, Boston School. You’ll be able to by no means have too many cross rushers, particularly if you’re located in the identical division as quarterback god Aaron Rodgers, the great not nice Kirk Cousins, and the younger and promising Mitch Trubisky. Final 12 months, the Lions ranked 20th in sacks. However by drafting Landry, bringing again Ezekiel Ansah on the franchise tag, and hiring Matt Patricia as their head coach, the Lions might be poised to enhance at probably the most vital features of the sport.

21. Cincinnati Bengals (through Payments)

Jaire Alexander, CB, Louisville. By buying and selling for a brand new left deal with earlier than the draft, the Bengals addressed a place of want. Now, they’re going to be free to improve elsewhere, like cornerback. The Bengals declined to choose up Adam Jones’ possibility, in order that they have a gap on the place. Alexander is 11th total on our massive board even after an injury-plagued 2017 season. When wholesome in 2016, he notched 5 picks.

22. Buffalo Payments (through Chiefs)

Isaiah Wynn, Georgia, OT. I initially had the Payments going with a defensive deal with, however re-signing Williams turns a serious space of want right into a minor space of want. Do not get me unsuitable, the Payments nonetheless want to handle defensive deal with in some unspecified time in the future with Williams getting up there in age, however they’re now free to focus on extra urgent areas. Talking of which, the Payments traded left deal with Cordy Glenn to the Bengals. So, they draft his substitute in Wynn, who’s ranked first at his place group right here at CBS Sports activities.

23. Los Angeles Rams

Will Hernandez, OG, UTEP. Linebacker could be an even bigger want, particularly after buying and selling away Alec Ogletree, however the Rams cannot ignore their want on the inside of their offensive line. It is time to shield Jared Goff and ensure Todd Gurley’s operating lanes stay large open. Hernandez, based on NFL.com’s Lance Zierlein, compares to Richie Incognito.

24. Carolina Panthers

Michael Gallup, WR, Colorado St. After lacking out on the big-name receivers in free company, the Panthers tackle a transparent want by taking Gallup, who checks in at No. Three among the many receivers on our massive board right here at CBS Sports activities. In the course of the previous two seasons at Colorado State, Gallup caught 176 passes for two,685 yards, and 21 touchdowns. Devin Funchess is not a WR1. The latest commerce for Torrey Smith is not sufficient. The Panthers must proceed addressing receiver.

25. Tennessee Titans

Rashaan Evans, ILB, Alabama. Earlier than the craziness of free company started, I had the Titans taking a cornerback (Carlton Davis), however after they signed Malcolm Butler, the Titans need to be out of the cornerback market. So, let’s slot in Evans. The Titans misplaced linebacker Avery Williamson to the Jets on Tuesday, so a brand new want opened up.

26. Atlanta Falcons

Da’Ron Payne, DT, Alabama. The Falcons, coached by Dan Quinn, are constructing a harmful protection, however they will intention greater. Final 12 months, they ranked 13th in sacks and 19th in yards allowed per carry. In the meantime, Adrian Clayborn and Dontari Poe are each free brokers, making a void on the defensive position. Payne, who’s 23rd on our massive board and fourth at his place, makes an excessive amount of sense right here.

27. New Orleans Saints

Mason Rudolph, QB, Oklahoma St. I am conserving this one locked in. Here is what I wrote two weeks in the past:

Drew BreesDrew Brees, 39, will not play without end, so the Saints go and get his successor in Mason Rudolph, who is definitely ranked first amongst quarterbacks on Chris Trapasso’s massive board. Rudolph, who threw 37 touchdowns and solely 9 picks in his remaining faculty season, lands in a perfect vacation spot, getting an opportunity to study from Brees and Sean Payton.

28. Pittsburgh Steelers

Leighton Vander Esch, OLB, Boise St. Humorous how briskly issues can change in mock draft season. Two weeks in the past, I had Edmunds falling to the Steelers, who need assistance at linebacker within the aftermath of Ryan Shazier’s damage. However after an excellent mix, there’s does not look like any state of affairs that sees Edmunds slipping all the best way No. 28. As an alternative, with the Bears scooping up Edmunds, I’ve the Steelers taking Leighton Vander Esch, who’s already being linked to Pittsburgh. He is Trapasso’s top-ranked exterior linebacker and 27th total.

29. Jacksonville Jaguars

Dallas Goedert, TE, South Dakota St. I believed the Jaguars would re-sign Allen Robinson and whereas that also may occur, their refusal to franchise tag him probably means he is a goner. That makes pass-catchers a critical space of want. Goedert is my first tight finish off the board. NFL.com’s Lance Zierlein in contrast him to Zach Ertz, one of many recreation’s finest tight ends, whereas Trapasso ranked him first at his place group. Final 12 months, the Jaguars’ main tight finish, Marcedes Lewis, caught 24 passes for 318 yards and 5 touchdowns. The Jaguars want extra from the place.

30. Minnesota Vikings

Vita Vea, DT, Washington. They received their quarterback in Cousins, now they will bolster their defensive position in Vea, who’s 18th total on Trapasso’s massive board.

31. New England Patriots

Kolton Miller, OT, UCLA. The Patriots may lose Nate Solder in free company in order that they’ll want a brand new deal with. Enter: Miller, who’s 28th total on Trapasso’s massive board.

32. Philadelphia Eagles

Orlando Brown, OT, Oklahoma. Brown skilled a horrific mix efficiency that was so dangerous it may truly take him out of the primary spherical. Not so quick. The Eagles must develop a brand new left deal with with 36-year-old Jason Peters coming off a torn ACL. The Eagles notice that the mix is an overrated analysis instrument and resolve to belief his tape as an alternative.

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genuinelyscottish · 6 years

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Change

Change is my arch nemesis. The fluctuation of schedule, the disintegration of routine, the lack of order evokes a literal feeling of sickness in the pit of my gut. Although I’ve always supposed this change-phobia is intrinsically linked with the mentality of rigidity which was drilled into me in the earliest of my childhood memories, recent events have taught me that perhaps change is not the multi-headed demon I so feared. Within three months, the very core of my fundamental beliefs about life, the universe and everything in it (a reference I would not have made in October!) have shattered and scattered across my corner of the planet.The presumptions I had made about how my life was going to go, what makes me happy and how I as a human being exist have become like dust swirling in the abyss - directionless, but perpetually in motion. These integral parts of my character are rapidly being reassembled as the choices I am making, the actions I am taking, and the words I am saying become finite and irreversible. Not that irreversibility is negative - in fact I would argue that stability and safety in the knowledge that my choices are definitive is what anchors me to them, and to the security they bring. And this ‘new me’ who finds herself being constructed as each day, each conversation unfolds? I think calling her ‘new’ would be entirely false. What is actually happening is a necessary growing up, a maturing which is essential to my progression as an individual towards my end goal (which, coincidentally remains steadfast amongst these most tumultuous of changes).

My advancement as an individual has been so exponential these past three months, it is difficult to articulate without losing something. Without pandering to the English student in me too much, I’ve grouped my personality changes into three key areas which I think have been the most affected.

1. The Fog

Ah, the fog. My good old friend, the destroyer of relationships; crux of my self-sabotaging need to overthink; drain on both my and those around me’s social energy. I’ve been grappling with you for almost an entire miserable decade, and only now as no longer being a teenager looms all the nearer have I finally began to dissect and dissolve you. You are an unwanted by-product of a broken brain, but it is my broken brain, and there is limitless beauty in brokenness. This swirling, all-encompassing, depressive grey is erasable, and recent changes have enabled me to take third-person-esque look at you and tell you that no more do you rule my life. You are not the winning party, or even a close second. My beautiful broken brain has entered a state of self-awareness where I can look at you, identify your source, and wipe it out. You do not define me any more.

2. Social Energy

Aligning itself perfectly with this realisation of the fog’s origins, it has become apparent to me that social energy is the catalyst to the majority of problems in my mentality. They say the average person speaks around 16,000 words per day, and past-me was eager to not just meet, but exceed this target. Silence is uncomfortable, or so I’d taught myself. If someone is silent with you, they must despise you - you just aren’t entertaining, or funny, or interesting enough to merit conversation with. Whilst these thoughts occasionally rear their ugly heads when I can sense the quiet seeping in and the fog rattling in her cage, reassurance and the knowledge that no, I am an interesting person, and the people who are in my life are there because they want to be and because they think that what I have to say holds value allows me to solidify the imprisonment of the negative thoughts and embrace the silence.

When twenty three out of twenty four hours (allowing for a collective hour of bathroom/snacking breaks) are spent in the company of another person, there is inevitably going to be that moment when conversation runs a little short. That is healthy, and that is normal. I am writing this here partly as a message to anyone who stumbles across this blog, but also as a reminder to myself in the future that constant mindless conversation is not necessarily more desirable than one forty minute debate about something both parties feel educated and invested in. Accumulating knowledge about areas of common interest is a key way to ensure that conversation remains refreshing and interesting, and living a life outside the time spent together is perhaps the main way to ensure that the reunions are all the more memorable because they are rich in conversation and excitement. But, the main takeaway is that silence is not the enemy, and reiterating this to yourself will help keep the fog at bay.

3. Love

On a completely different topic, perhaps the core strand of my personality which has found itself being fairly violently plucked after almost two decades of minor flicks is my capacity to love and to be loved. I thought I had found this love in another after he allowed me to dream and fantasise and plan, but I was naive and did not understand (or want to understand, really) that nothing would ever come of my obsession. I mistook an imagined fantasy for love, and now I’ve found the real thing, I laugh at what I thought I wanted. Some of the obsessive behaviours still haunted this the purest form of love at the beginning, but when it became apparent that living in the past and stalking social media religiously was in actuality doing nothing but detracting from the utter joy and bliss of the present, I learnt very efficiently that history is confined to the past. We experience the range of human emotions, from pure ecstacy to the deepest of sorrow at some point in life, and these experiences shape who we become. Without our stories, we don’t exist, but knowing someone’s story, and obsessing over things you had no part in and cannot do anything to change are two very different things.

Being truly in love for the first time in my life has expanded my capacity to feel - to feel misery, to feel worry, but also to feel utter and exuberant joy and complete contentment in the presence of another. Love has been redefined - it is not striving for his affections by obscuring who you are, rather allowing yourself to enter the levels of complete acceptance of your body, your mannerism and your personality that are only usually felt when you return to your family home. Home, also, is a funny concept which I have found the definition of to be uprooted. The place I once called home has become a writhing pit of infernal reptiles, insistent that my happiness can only come from a church-approved source. Instead, we have built ourselves a home out of IKEA and Asda, a corner by the harbour where we watch the boats ebb and flow whilst we sit sipping coffee and whisper our forevers. He is my forever, and whilst I was concerned that I was allowing my stupid over-romantic heart to fall irrevocably again before it imploded because maybe I’m just unlovable, each day I am learning new ways to love him, and the intensity of the overwhelming joy I feel when I remember that he is mine, and I am his, is unlike any other feeling in this world.

Hearing his story, learning his past and what built him into the bundle of humour, energy and cynicism he is today feels like remembering something I’d once known. Watching his quiet habits, the things he subconsciously allows his muscle memory to do evokes the strangest of reactions in me - my heart throbs with such an intensity I struggle to not place a hand on my ribcage to ensure it doesn’t physically burst out. Knowing that he is comfortable enough with me to let all his walls down, as he has so effectively demolished mine, our souls can connect at the purest of levels, intertwining in perfect harmony. Our love is the love of music, of poetry, not necessarily overly cliche because our beautiful broken brains would not cope with constant sap, but is instead humour-filled, fuelled by incessant teasing and intellectual challenging. What a relief to have found my perfect partner in this disjointed disaster we call existence! Holding his hand, curled against his chest, head filled with images of our wedding, our curly-haired babies, our life spent chasing each other round our forever home with the cats trying desperately not to be trodden on and our retirement where I finally learn to knit and he fiddles with old computer parts, insistent that ‘one day I’ll revive this old thing, just you wait!”, I am assured in myself that this is the real deal. We are end-game, the couple people are jealous of because our connection is not forced or reliant on proving ourselves, but instead natural and as effortless as breathing. I truly believe that destiny pushed us together, at the most inconvenient time in the most unlikely of settings to allow us to discover that through the (already fairly copious) trials the world will throw at us, we are anchored to each other and secure in our love, and together we’ll be from now into eternity.

Anyway, I’m aware that this post is ridiculously long and now exploding with unbearable levels of romance, but this past three months has released my potential, my identity and my sense of self from the prescribed outline enforced by my upbringing, and that certainly warrants a fairly substantive post.

With any luck, I’ll keep updating this with more frequency, I’ve missed the satisfaction which comes from brain-dumping onto an obscure corner of the internet.

‘Til next time,

The golden child.

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