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jennyboom21 · 1 year

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Dianna Agron is running late — she’s stuck on the subway. I have no problem believing this because I am on the exact same train a few cars away, as we learn when she sends me a heads-up text. My phone slowly receives a selfie of Agron waving through a grainy train window, face curtained by long light-brown hair, along with another message about how tickled she is that we’re sharing a classic New York experience. And it’s one we continue when we finally make it to The Odeon, the iconic Tribeca bistro. “It's been a staple since the 1980s, which is what I love about this place,” she says in her lilting voice as we mull over the menu. “This is a place that was happening when I was born and didn't even know that it would be waiting for me when I moved to New York City.” We get two dirty martinis and a plate of fries before gleefully cheering to being in our 30s. “I love this time, though,” she adds.

Agron has been thinking a lot about her 30s, and not just because we’re meeting up two weeks before her 37th birthday. Her new movie, Clock, out now on Hulu, is a sci-fi horror film that explores the immense societal pressures women, in particular those without children, face in that decade of their lives. But the film’s messages about making your own choices also resonate within the arc of her career. Agron spent six seasons on the pop culture juggernaut that was Glee — and enduring the intense public scrutiny that came with it — before more recently finding acclaim with a string of indie movies like Shiva Baby and Novitiate. With Clock, Agron pushed herself again. There are big action scenes (hanging from cliffs, elbow-deep gore), as well as dark emotional depths (involving painful family secrets coming to life). “Collected experience really does add up,” she says. “And I think that the life I've lived the last 10 years in some ways has been more magnificent and more challenging than my more formative years.”

Lanvin coat, SKIMS bra, Talent’s own trousers, Pamela Love earrings

Agron never thought she’d try her hand at horror, but the Clock script hit too close to home to resist. She plays Ella, a 30-something who doesn’t want kids but eventually gives into the pressure of prying family and friends and enrolls in an experimental clinical trial, under the leadership of Dr. Simmons (Melora Hardin), that promises to help women who don’t experience having a biological clock. “The moment I turned 30,” Agron says, “the amount of questions that I felt were far too personal — and from truly everyone — just intensified year by year.”

Even for an actor who came up in the Perez Hilton era of celebrity blogging and is used to skirting prying questions, Agron still finds herself surprised sometimes. Just last year, she was on a red carpet at the Tribeca Film Festival promoting the sci-fi drama Acidman when a journalist asked her out of the blue if her mother’s name, Mary, would be “top of the list” for her. “I truly had no idea what she was talking about, so I asked for clarification and she said, ‘The top of your baby list,’” Agron says. “I said, with all of the kindness, ‘You have no idea what my personal journey is. And I'm quite surprised that you asked me that at my workplace when I'm here to discuss a film that I'm in.’” The message didn’t land. “She had no remorse. She just bopped along to the next question.”

Michael Kors Collection clothing and belt, Agmes earrings

Clock only took on more meaning throughout production. Agron was in Texas shooting the last day of principal photography when the draft Supreme Court opinion overturning Roe v. Wade leaked. “It did not feel good, that's for sure,” she says. “But then felt in some ways good that we were making [a movie that speaks] to some of the perils of being a woman and making choices that are more aligned with your own sense of self, as opposed to making choices for other people.” She dips a fry into one of the many condiments we’ve ordered. “All it takes is a film or a piece of journalism [for people] to open their eyes to different experiences that they could never imagine for themselves and have no personal touch points for. As a woman and one who very much loves women and loves the immense and enormous abilities that we have to carry so much, I wish that we had to carry less.”

When writer-director Alexis Jacknow was looking to cast Ella, she knew what she wanted: “It was very important to me that that character just already have a natural, grounded nature, a gravitas to her.” And she knew right away after meeting her that Agron could deliver. “There was absolutely nothing she wouldn’t do,” Jacknow says. “She pushed me, and there was just no hesitation on her part. She showed up every single day, 110%, and gave us everything.”

That is not an exaggeration. During one scene, Ella cracks open eggs into a frying pan and begins to eat them raw with a spoon. Jacknow didn’t want anyone to flaunt food safety guidelines, but Agron thought the only way to sell the scene was to actually do it. “Beef tartare, a whiskey sour,” Agron says, listing all the indulgences with raw ingredients she already enjoys. (There are reasons those are safer than raw eggs, but just go with it.) Jacknow proposed a compromise: Agron could put the raw eggs in her mouth as long as she spat them instead of swallowing. Agron agreed — or at least pretended to. “I winked at our [director of photography] and motioned at him like, ‘Don’t cut,’” she says, laughing. “I go to pick up the egg, I swallow it and go to take another bite. And I just hear, ‘Dianna, what the f*ck?!’”

Dries Van Noten clothing, Khiry earrings

Agron hasn’t always felt such autonomy in her career. When she was in her early twenties, she booked a role in a “big studio film” that, though ultimately a positive experience, involved an eye-opening screen test. “It was like, ‘We don’t like her hair like that, we need her to be more girly. We don’t like those clothes,’” she recalls. “I kept getting moved off set, changed, put back on stage, taken off again. I didn’t feel that I had any say in the matter, even if I had suggested something nicely. I was just a product at that point.”

Glee did not exactly help things. Agron says she was the last person cast for the show and describes getting the job as nothing short of fate. She grew up watching musicals with her mother in hotels on account of her father’s job as a manager at Hyatt. “Look, I moved to Los Angeles and I set out to find a musical. They were my absolute bread and butter. I told anybody that would listen to me, ‘I really want to do a musical,’” she says. “And [agents] were like, ‘No, try to be on Broadway.’ I just had this staunch faith that I was meant to be in Los Angeles and I would find a musical. And then it happened.”

But while she credits the show with changing her life, the show’s explosive popularity tested her boundaries. “There was a moment in time where there was not only a lack of acknowledgement in respect to personal space, there have been times where I've been put in a headlock and kissed on a plane. There have been times where mothers were grabbing you by the arm to meet and take a photo with their child,” Agron says. “There were so many personal attacks in a way that are just truly not what you do to a human. That feels specific to that time and that intensity of the feelings that people were feeling watching the show.”

So she moved to New York in 2016, eager to escape Los Angeles and its “predatory nature of people with lenses down there that just doesn’t exist in the same way in other places.” For a few years, she split her time between London — from 2016 to 2020, Agron was married to Winston Marshall of British folk-rock group Mumford & Sons — but now calls New York “my only home.” “Following my personal life is really not going to yield anything that interesting,” Agron says of public attention. And it’s true, the few times I tactfully (I hope) bring up topics that might lead Agron to open up about other aspects of her personal life, she gently deflects them. It’s clear she’s figured out a way to maintain her privacy while still being incredibly personal in the context of her work.

In New York, she’s able to follow her muse more freely. She’s reconnected with music through a string of residencies at the famed Café Carlyle, where she’s performed jazz standards and ‘60s covers. She served as a producer on Acidman and would like to do more behind-the-scenes work. And she’s relishing the chance to be a “waving the Jewish flag” kind of actor, choosing projects like Shiva Baby and As They Made Us that let her honor and explore her heritage. “I went to Jewish weekend school and Wednesday school for my entire upbringing up until my Bat Mitzvah and spent a lot of time with Holocaust survivors,” she says. “So it was a weird experience to then have many people say [in Hollywood], ‘You don’t look Jewish.’ It is weird to have somebody deny you your own personal experience.”

Next, she’ll make her return to television with The Chosen One, a multilingual adaptation of Mark Millar’s American Jesus comic book that follows a 12-year-old boy who gains the biblical powers of Jesus after a freak accident. She’s bonded with the younger actors on the show who have asked her for career advice — a full-circle moment for the now bonafide industry veteran. They’ve even watched Glee and marveled to Agron about how young she looks and seems. Her response? “I am!” she says, laughing.

By this point, our martini glasses have long been empty. Neither of us want to brave the train again, so Agron walks me up the street and, like a true New Yorker, gives me directions with a McNally Jackson tote slung over her shoulder. She gives me a hug, then turns to head deeper into Tribeca, forging a path all of her own.

#this could explain Taylor’s delayed tweet lol #Dianna Agron x photoshoot #dianna Agron x bustle 2023 #dianna Agron x fashion #swiftgron

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ailani-reillata · 3 months

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The Acolyte - Chapter Five: The Peacekeepers

Oc Centric - Multichapter - 6.9k - Rated T

Summary: The Separatist Crisis has reached its peak. War looms throughout the galaxy, casting a dark, bloody shadow over the thinning ranks of the Jedi Order. The end of civilization has already started. This is the story of Jedi Acolyte Ailani Réillata. Her end has just begun.

Previous Chapters: Prologue, Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four,

AO3 Version

(Please see the AO3 version for the full list of tags and warnings BEFORE reading.)

———

"Truth enlightens the mind, but won't always bring happiness to your heart."

It was dawn.

The Jedi temple stood in the blazing glory of the Coruscant sun, soaked in golden hues that reflected off the pristine marble flooring.

Ailani wished the halo of morning would end, for it was too beautiful a day for deeds as dark as this.

She had grown up in these Council Chambers; she had lived, listened, sat, and waited. She knew these walls, this daylight, these Masters. Though she had never fit in here, she had known life here. Yet at that moment, standing in the doorway, Ailani Réillata felt like a stranger. The room looked different. Everything looked different.

Maybe she was just different.

One week since Geonosis and two days since she departed from Kamino, yet it all felt like lifetimes ago. Frozen moments and speeding cycles. Geonosis was so far away, so distant, and yet so close. She could still feel the burning hot sand and the sticky blood, but at the same time, it was almost as if it had happened to someone else, something else, like a story she had heard, or like trying to remember a dream she had never had.

Kamino, however, lingered closer in her mind. The cold ocean waves covered the memory of desert sun and stinging sand. Besides her encounter on her first day, the following rotations passed without much interaction, so had Ailani let herself sink into the endless void of the labratory. She watched out her window and raced the raindrops. She compared notes with Master Ti. She filed reports. She assigned battalions to newly appointed Jedi Generals. She wrote down the numbers of the clones that did not make the cut. She stayed up late on secure channels, recording all she had learned about the floor plans and the factories for Master Adi Gallia and her information network.

None of it sat right, forming endless mundae circles in her mind as the rain covered her and eclipsed Geonosis. Numbers. Names. Jedi. General. Awake. Dreaming. Splattered armor paint. Pristine white walls. Clinical trials. Battlefield training. The scent of blood and sand. Cleaning chemicals that made her head spin. Spy games. Blaster bolts. The constant rains of Kamino had drilled these ever-present parallels in her mind. The rain made her mind wander. The rain blended each day into the next. The rain gave her too much time to think. And the endless identical faces had begun appearing in her dreams, carrying weapons and speaking with the voice of the High Council.

"For your sins, you must be sacrificed."

Over and over. Again and again. Dream and reality. One and the same.

Ailani had never imagined missing the ever-changeable noise of Coruscant, the busy and restless bustling, but while on Kamino, she had finally understood the appeal of a never-sleeping planet. When you never slept or sat quietly, you never had to face the sound of your breathing. So Ailani had looked forward to returning to the city. But the place she knew, the faces she knew, the city she saw, it had changed. She had not appreciated it before; now, when she had missed it, it was gone. The busy city sounds had melted into war, worry, and fear.

Part of Ailani longed to return to her room so she could read the holocron of prophecy and search for answers she could not find anywhere else. The words were confusing, and the orange light dizzying, but at least part of it was certain. At least it gave her one truth. Her dreams were visions, and she was not useless. At least she wasn't useless when she was dreaming.

"For your sins, you must be sacrificed."

She longed for something to hold onto, for even the Council chambers were not immune to the shift in the universe. Before Ailani stood in the same twelve chairs that had always sat there—though the faces in the chairs had changed as Jedi rose and fell, even then, the Force itself, the room itself, had never changed.

Until today.

Ailani walked along the walls, slipping into her small station near the door. Even that seemed different, though it looked as it always had. The red cushion and curved armrests mimicked a Council chair, and yet the tiny desk attachment allowed her a place to rest her documents and datapad. It looked the same. Everything looked the same.

Nothing felt the same.

The temple halls seemed so empty lately, for although the details of war had not been settled, many Jedi had stayed behind to secure Geonosis, including Barriss.

Ailani sat anyway, sinking into the no longer familiar chair, as she let her eyes scan the room for distractions.

Not everyone had arrived yet, but the room was filled with prospects for people-watching. Because for each Jedi Master, there was also a Clone Commander. So few had been allowed in this room, so few outsiders had seen these walls, and yet now, in the new galaxy she had come home to, everyone acted as if the addition of soldiers was not strange. Or perhaps they were masking it better than her.

In reality, Ailani knew that these men, these clones, were not outsiders; they were not mere soldiers or mere strangers. These men were the foundation on which the Jedi would build their holy church of war. The Command Clone who served the Jedi Council were the baseline, the very bones of the war effort. They were the beginning of the Jedi's end to war.

Ailani watched a few of them stand together in a loose formation, speaking low with voices cracking behind the synthesizer of their helmets. They were acquainting themselves with training stories and jokes she could only half hear, feeling out the territory as they prepared to trust these strangers with the same face. What an odd feeling that may be, Ailani mused, not knowing someone yet knowing their eyes as your own.

Most of their helmets were unfamiliar to her, though some markings rang familiar in some distant part of her mind. She had helped assign most of these clones to Council members. Yet, every identification number had blurred together after a while, and their names had never been revealed in official documents. She had learned in her brief time on Kamino that names were usually gifted after one finished training, and rarely, names were given after a defining life event.

Not that there were many of those on Kamino. At least, not that she had seen.

Some names were simple; they played on one's identification number or personality, and yet some names only made sense to the clone's close friends or squadron, named after an inside joke or a moment of triumph. But these gifts, these names, did not exist officially. Ailani had been too quiet, awkward, and reserved to ask for everyone's names. Not that she liked calling them by numbers, but she preferred not to speak to anyone.

Besides Shaak Ti stood the commander of the Kamino guard, a clone Ailani had met before but whose name escaped her mind now.

Master Yoda was accompanied by Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard, adorned in red. He would not serve under Yoda, for the Grand Master of the Order did not take on a Padawan, much less an entire battalion, but Commander Fox was to serve the Chancellor, and it seemed like that was a fact that Master Yoda wished to keep an eye on.

The other helmets were utterly foreign to her, and they stood away from the Jedi, giving Ailani no clues about their battalion or role. There was another clone in red, two in green, and another with small lines of maroon. Ailani swallowed hard. There were too many people. Too many names. Too little explanation. No one was speaking to her.

The Council members always had matters to sort before the official meeting began, questioning each other's minds and attempting to gauge the soul of the others before a point ever reached the floor. So, it was not unusual to sit alone as they mingled.

The clones seemed to have more pressing matters than entertaining some Acolyte. The few who stood in this room would be more than clones; they would be as one, just as the Council was one. Secrets would be shared in service of their Jedi, knowledge of the order would be shared, knowledge that would never be repeated.

Much would be hidden from them as well, just as much was hidden from Ailani, and yet Ailani knew that while the bond of secrets kept one close, the isolation of not knowing drew people even closer—the bond of being left behind. They did not need to know who she was. Their lives would not rely on knowing her. She was not even a captain, or commander, or…. Ailani let the thought disappear into obscurity, shaking her head.

She did not want anyone to talk to her anyway. She enjoyed quiet time before meetings; she enjoyed people-watching and sitting silently. She had always enjoyed the silence and how she could fade into the wall—the reassurances in her head rung hollow.

In truth, she did not like how much she had been forced to live in her head. When she was younger, Ailani had once convinced herself that she could turn invisible on command for an entire week. All she had to do was sit perfectly still, and eventually, she would fade from view and melt into the background noise. The thought was ludicrous and innocent in a way that all childhood ideas were, and yet, at the time, it felt logical and magical. She would spend hours sitting in the corner, legs curled into her chest, watching people pass by without a smile. It made her giggle at first, as if she was in on a joke, a game no one else knew how to play. She was winning. Yet, at the end of that week, Ailani remembered meeting the eyes of the cleaning maid, who proceeded to smile at her. All at once, Ailani realized she had never been invisible, merely unwanted.

Sometimes, Ailani still pretended she could turn invisible, for it was much easier than the truth. In her heart, she knew this was one of those moments, yet she dismissed the thought and did a mental headcount instead.

Yoda. Depa. Fisto. Ti. Saesse. Windu. Fox. The Kaminoian Commander. The clone in red. The two clones in green, the clone with hints of maroon.

Only six Councilors were missing. Only six clones were missing. Fifteen minutes until they started.

Ailani shifted uncomfortably. She felt as if she had been awake for days, the rain of Kamino echoing in her mind, the threads of morality twisted around her heart, and the Council room was so full, and it was all so much—

The doors behind her opened, and the room shifted.

“Koh-to-yah, Ailani.” Master Plo. His voice was like sunlight bursting through the rain and noise that had consumed her mind. To untrained ears, the wheeze of his mask may have made his words appear cold, but to Ailani, to ears that had known this Kel Dor since birth, Master Plo Koon was like the sunlight of Naboo.

Ailani held back her heart as it attempted to leap from her seat and instead turned to face her Master calmly. He was wearing his formal robes, but on him, they never appeared like layers of civility but robes of warmth. Layers and layers of warmth. Despite the situation and the mask, Ailani could feel the gentle heart of home settle in the air around her.

Behind Plo Koon stood Commander Wolffe. His face was hidden from her, set behind a maroon helmet, but the blossom of his sense pried through the cracks of plating, stormy and set. Suddenly, it was as if Ailani could smell lavender and orange blossoms.

He was taller than she remembered.

It had only been a few days since she had seen him last, yet their encounter had never left the forefront of her mind, and neither had the aftermath of it all. He hadn't told on her. He hadn't told anyone. At least, it never seemed the Kaminoians knew about her prying. He hadn't told them.

Ailani supposed they would both have to keep secrets for the Council now. Perhaps he was merely practicing.

"Good morning, Master." Ailani replied, offering a strained smile to Plo, "It is good to see you."

It was good to see him. The entire Council had raised her, yet certain members had found her heart much easier than others, and now, at this moment, Ailani was thankful to be known in a room full of unknowns.

"It is good to be back, young one." Master Plo said, then he quickly gestured to Wolffe, ever the polite Master and including everyone, even in conversations they did not seem ready to have, "I am told you are already acquainted with Commander Wolffe."

Ailani nodded, "Yes, aside from the Geonosis assault, we were reacquainted on my Kamino assignment." She looked at Wolffe. "How do you do?"

"Enjoying Coruscant." He said, voice mechanical and utterly devoid of anything even resembling joy.

"Sounds like it." She replied flatly.

Master Plo laughed, finally relaxing Ailani's shoulders, "It is good to see you, Ailani." And for a moment, she believed him; she felt that someone was happy to see her again. It made the noise of the city planet fade slightly.

But only slightly.

"We have a few minutes before we begin. Ailani, why don't you familiarize yourself with our new commanders?" Plo Koon suggested, placing a kind hand on her shoulder. His sense was gentle, but he used the same tone he had used when she was a youngling and had to be brided into doing her chores, "It will be good for you." Before she could respond, he was gone, leaving her alone with Commander Wolffe.

They fell into silence, the air thick with something strange. It wasn't tension or unease but...but something else. Something Ailani could not name. Briefly, she wondered if he was trying to make her uncomfortable on purpose by remaining quiet. He had been more than witty and talkative the last time they had spoken.

Ailani relented, resorting to the only words that came to mind, "How do you do?"

Instantly, Ailani kicked herself mentally. She had already asked that. Was that really the only conversational point she knew?

Wolffe faced her, helmet unreadable, "I thought we were already reacquainted?" He retorted, and even with the mechanical filter, Ailani could hear the smile.

Yes. The silence had indeed been a game. Yet this time, they were in Ailani's arena, and she had never lost a game of wits on these marble floors. Well...she had rarely lost a game of wits on these marble floors. Master Windu was a worthy adversary.

"Perhaps I want to be reacquainted a third time," Ailani said.

"Right," He replied, still smiling and calm, "And that has nothing to do with the fact that you don't know anyone else here?"

"And what about yourself?" She snapped back, her voice slightly too tense and accusatory. He had stricken a nerve she did not know was exposed.

Yet as quickly as it had been revealed, Ailani soothed the ache and took a deep breath. They were just joking. That is what people did: joke with each other.

Wolffe fell silent at her words, relenting or unwilling to push her further.

Great. Must she ruin everything with her temper?

Suddenly, the doors opened again, and Master Obi-Wan entered the room, shuffling softly, followed by a clone in bright golden armor.

The clone was an eclipse. His sense was burning light, scorching like the sands of Geonosis, casting shadows across the landscape with towering height. The Force sat about him like a kyber crystal, with raw strength and power hidden behind a metal casing. His shadow fell over Ailani, and for a moment, she forgot all social error and strain, and she could not breathe.

Wolffe turned to face Ailani, seemingly oblivious to the sense, and though his mask hid much, it could not hide the smirk that rippled through Ailani's mind. "I know him." He said pointedly and walked away to meet the golden clone. His words snapped Ailani from her mind, settling the strange place in her heart that now felt overwhelmed by shifting pulls in the Force.

Damn. Ailani trailed after him like a lost dog, searching for answers.

Obi-Wan was to Wolffe as she approached, his face bright and warm, "Good of you to join us, Commander."

"Glad to be here, General," Wolffe replied.

"Hello, Master," Ailani said, slipping beside Wolffe and into the conversation. Hopefully, it didn't look too pathetic.

“Good morning, Ailani. I trust your visit to Kamino was successful?" Obi-Wan prompted, still smiling.

He was not a young man, but he was not exactly old either. He was in that strange place Ailani often saw in newly appointed knights, where childhood met power, and one did not know how to balance the two. But whatever he was, Master Kenobi was still hesitant when it came to Ailani. He was like her Master now, but they did not know each other and were unlikely ever to get the chance. Not that Ailani minded. She had too many Council members bossing her around. It would be best if the newest one kept his distance.

But it would also be best if she remained kind anyway.

"Yes, Master. Though I could have done without the rain." She finished the sentence with a sheepish yet entirely fake smile, but he enjoyed playing along.

He chuckled slightly, "Yes, couldn't we all." Then he shifted, gesturing to the clone beside him, "Ailani, this is Commander Cody. Cody, Ailani."

"Hello." Ailani bowed her head low, and Cody merely nodded, barely acknowledging her. He seemed almost dismissive.

Perhaps it was only because Master Kenobi seemed desperate to make her comfortable, but the simplicity of Cody's lack of a greeting felt jarring.

Ailani felt herself instinctively look towards Wolffe, whose blank helmet said nothing in return.

Obi-Wan slid through the social hiccup, ever the easy negotiator. "I trust that we shall have a full house this morning?"

"Yes, Master. Merely waiting on a few stragglers." Ailani said quickly.

"Glad to know I'm not the last one." He smiled but then shifted his gaze, looking about the room. "But I think I'll find my place," He nodded goodbye to them and went to linger with the other Masters.

Cody waited for another few seconds, exchanging silence with Wolffe. Then, after it had stretched to something almost uncomfortable, he too turned away with a dismissive nod and walked to a group of troopers in the far corner.

As far as first meetings go, that had not been her most spectacular disaster, nor had it been her most impressive triumph. At least it was over now. "Now we both know him," Ailani said, turning to face Wolffe with a smile.

He shook his head slightly; whether in dismay or amusement, Ailani could not be sure. "Now we both know him."

Ailani returned to Cody's golden helmet, following painted lines with her eyes. Master Yoda once said that art could say a lot about a person; the weight of lines could carry the weight of knowledge. But Ailani did not know much about art, and she knew even less about people.

But the silence between Wolffe and Cody had been something. They were familiar with each other; Wolffe had said that much outright, but something else was interwoven. Knowing.

In her mind, Ailani recalled something about the familial ties between troopers. Nala Sae said they adapted to their genetic similarities by developing a family bond. Brothers is the word she had used. Brothers.

What must it be like to have three million siblings? How would someone even begin to remember that many names? Not all clones knew each other. That much was simple logic, but still.

Brothers.

That must have been it. Cody and Wolffe knew each other, but not as Commanders or clones. But as brothers. She thought how strange it must be to work with your siblings this closely. An even darker thought dawned on her, clouding her mind. How could someone send their brother off to battle?

"Is he your older brother or something?" Ailani asked, her voice distant as she continued to study Cody's helmet. She was being too blunt, too socially awkward, too—

"Or something," Wolffe replied, not elaborating further.

They lapsed back into silence, hanging around the door and watching new groups file in individually. It seemed he also did not wish to make any more acquaintances today. So many pairs had already seemed to fall into a routine, walking harmoniously and never getting in each other's way. Perhaps it was the aid Force or merely proof of how strict the Kaminoan training protocol was, but whatever aided them, the lack of it in Ailani suddenly felt that much deeper.

Was she the only one who didn't know everyone here?

She had read the memos about clone assignments and vaguely knew the numbers of the men who accompanied her masters, but the number meant nothing. This was life. Life was experience and learning. It was understanding and connection, and she had none of it. All of these beings had fallen into a routine already; all of these people knew how to conduct themselves and introduce themselves. They knew how to live.

How was she even supposed to begin?

Her expression must have been pained, or at least filled with longing, because even as she was still debating, Wolffe spoke again, "I've got training drills after this. I'll introduce you to the boys."

It wasn't an invitation exactly, more like a statement, a casual throwaway line. No feeling would be hurt if she denied it, and there was no pushing or pulling to attend. No stakes .

She looked at him, unsure what emotion was bubbling in her chest, "Okay," Ailani replied, "But I’m not jogging around the barracks for you."

He laughed a real, genuine sound. "We'll see."

The morning bell rang, signaling the end of their conversation and company.

"Places then." Ailani managed.

Wolffe nodded and turned away. Watching him leave was strange, for his departure promised future conversations. Not at another meeting, not for Jedi business, not because she had to, but because he had asked her to accompany him.

It was not like she hadn't associated with others casually before, yet that was different. She hung around the Council members, learning swimming and dancing, sometimes even flying. But they were her mentors; they had to be around her. Other times, she accompanied different Jedi on tasks and errands because the Council requested that she go along, and sometimes, they even required her to participate in casual activities around the grounds. People had tried to get her to socialize, much to her failure.

The only person who even attempted to keep her company casually was Barriss, and even that had blown up in Ailani's face. She never knew what to say or how to act, and she knew Barriss was only trying to be kind. W ho actually wanted to be around Ailani? She did not even wish to be around herself most of the time. Between her rocky origins and her turbulent present, Ailani had always felt that the words "social nightmare" radiated off her like a neon sign. People took pity on her, but it never felt as if someone liked her company. It always felt like a handout, an apology for her origin and cultural isolation. Sad eyes and pitied looks told her that she wasn't alone. Every attempt at kindness felt as though it came with strings.

But Wolffe did not know her past; he did not know anything about her and had asked anyway. Maybe he wanted another subordinate to boss around in training, but even that felt like a step in the right direction.

Ailani returned to her seat and listened to the careful shuffle as others also found their places. The room was silent only a few moments before, and the Force was still.

There they were. The Jedi High Council. Twelve chairs and twelve members. All were perfectly in order, as they always had been.

For a moment, Ailani allowed herself the silence of remembrance as she scanned their faces. These people had raised, looked after, trained, and tried to know her. She had wanted to know them in return, though she knew she had fallen short many times in that area. But they still had a bond that only came from many hours together, even if she didn't always feel it.

Whether in this room or the training arenas, they spent endless cycles in each other's company. Her skill with a blade came from Master Windu, her tendency to curl her legs into her chest when sitting came from Master Yoda, her ability to braid hair into elaborate styles came from Master Billaba, and how many other traits had she picked up along the way? How many of those days were behind them all now?

They all seemed more tired than usual, worn down and worn out. Some even had a rigid formality etched into their form, as if they could sense the exact change Ailani had noted. The galaxy was different now. They were different now. Ailani's stomach twisted.

"Acolyte Réillata." Master Windu's voice pulled Ailani from memory, and she blinked anyway, strange warmth in her eyes.

Everyone was looking at her in expectation. Ailani felt her face flush but hid it with a soft bow of her head as she switched on her datapad.

"It is Primeday, Nelona 3rd." She began, "I call to order the Council of the High Jedi Order, Keepers of the Peace and Servants of the Republic."

The group murmured an acknowledgment, running through the routine as they had a million times before. At least secretary work never changed. It was endlessly dull and consistent. That was a small comfort.

"We shall begin with a census," Ailani said absentmindedly as lights and words flickered across her screen. One small joy she was allowed was the census. Though there was an official order to call their names in, Ailani was allowed to organize the roll call in any way and order she wanted, if only to make sure her Masters were paying attention, "Master Dep—" Ailani lifted her gaze to meet the Master but found her eyes settled on the trooper behind Depa, his helmet blank and yet all-knowing as she continued to stare.

How had she forgotten he was there? How quickly had she forgotten any of the clones were there? How was that even possible? An orange glow lit up in the darkest places of her mind, mocking her with its words. For our sins, we must be sacrificed. Was this a sin? This moment?

She was just thinking of Wolffe and then her Masters, and somewhere in between the two ideas, her head had lost one of the most critical pieces.

For our sins, we must be sacrificed.

She had not even considered how different this meeting would be with their presence. Indeed, she had worried over it, debating morals and guidelines in her head mere moments ago, but the actual application had missed her completely. She had been so absorbed in herself she hadn't even considered it. She had been so worried about everything she had done nothing at all. Again.

Useless .

Ailani cursed herself and quickly began to run through protocol and policy in her head. Was she supposed to ask for the trooper's names as well? Did they have to be marked on the census along with her masters? If she had to mark them down, would she mark their names or identification numbers? She did not want to mark down their identification numbers, but she must do the same if all formal records ran this way. Surely, the Senate would require conformity.

For our sins, we must be sacrificed. Nameless. For our sins, we must be sacrificed. Nameless. The prophecy wracked around in her brain, mixing with the shame and confusion of the moment.

Maybe checking out the holocron again had been a bad idea. She wasn't getting enough sleep.

And yet…was she even supposed to acknowledge the clones at all? There was protocol for guests, but they were not technically quests. They would receive security clearance for the temple today, as well as formal acknowledgment and security assignments and…and…

For our sins, we must be sacrificed.

The silence felt suffocating, and for a brief moment, Ailani thought she might faint. Her face must have been as red as jellyfruit. Here she was again, worrying instead of finding a solution, sinking and drowning in her thoughts instead of reaching for answers. She was frozen.

Suddenly, part of Ailani wished that Wolffe hadn't shown up. They weren't friends; they hardly knew each other, yet the thought of disappointing him was almost unbearable. She needed to get that under control.

Master Eeth Koth spoke, mercifully breaking the silence and providing Ailani with a way out, "If all Commanders present would provide their name for the record, we can assist in making Acolyte Réillata's job easier." He finished his words gently as if Ailani had not completely fumbled her one job. Normally, his easy and calm nature just annoyed her, but at this moment, Ailani had never been more grateful.

"A wonderful idea, Master Koth." Said Master Fisto, giving an enthusiastic and toothy grin. He was trying to ease Ailani's discomfort, looking directly at her with eyes that spoke of nothing but enthusiasm and kindness, but still, the tension did not leave her shoulders. But she blinked away the prophecy.

At least she had an answer, a solution, "Yes, a wonderful idea," Ailani repeated, "Thank you, Master." She thought for another moment, searching for the best way to proceed, scanning her mind for some system of organization.

They all waited silently, patiently. It only made her more nervous.

"After I call the name of the General you are accompanying, please state your name and rank for the record," Ailani said after a moment, letting her eyes scan the room as she tried to commit each helmet to memory. All she could focus on was the symbol of a red wolf, watching her every move.

"Shall we start again?" Master Plo Koon said, breaking Ailani's trance.

Ailani nodded, mumbled another half-apology, and forced herself to swallow all doubt and despair, "Master Depa Billaba?"

"Present," Depa said, smiling softly. Her eyes offered encouragement, but Ailani could not take it. Then she tilted her head slightly, acknowledging the trooper behind her.

"CC-10/99, Marshal Commander Grey of System Army Delta, present."

The clone's armor was a light green, nearly the shade of Master Fisto's skin in the bright light. His sense was practically unreadable as Ailani's mind fought with multiple emotions, yet one thing was certain instantly: he was loyal to Depa, and she was loyal to him.

"Your name will do fine, Commander Grey. Numbers and systems are not needed." Ailani said though she did not know if that was entirely true yet. Who knew what the Senate would want records of, and who knew how they liked them?

It mattered little, Ailani thought; the Council must continue doing things the Jedi way as much as possible. The current war would take many rights from them, but it seemed the least they could give back was a name.

Grey nodded curtly, and the moment was over.

Ailani continued, "Master Windu?"

"Present." He said smoothly, and his companion stepped in instantly, with just as much ease.

"Marshal Commander Ponds, present."

Ponds had maroon markings like Wolffe, though his hue was slightly more brown and muted. In addition, his armor had no design Ailani could instantly pick out. Instead, red smooth lines ran along the sides of his helmet and torso.

Briefly, Ailani thought he looked like he was bleeding from his armpits. She dismissed the thought and tried to cough through a broken laugh.

"Master Plo Koon?" She said next, and even before he answered, Ailani felt her fingers hover over the letters spelling out 'Marshal Commander Wolffe.'

"Present." Said Master Plo Koon, and he looked to Wolffe with a sense Ailani could only describe as pride.

"Marshal Commander Wolffe," Wolffe said, and for a split second, Ailani swore she locked eyes with him through the dark of his viewscreen.

Ailani blinked it away and moved on, "Adi Gallia?"

"Present."

"Marshal Commander Neyo." Said the man behind her. His voice was cold, even for someone speaking from behind a helmet filter. Ailani wanted to shiver but found herself still as she watched Neyo look at Wolffe. Something passed between them, but Ailani could not catch it. Then it was gone.

The rest of the role call passed in a strange blur. Softly stumbling through names and unfamiliar familiarity, caught on titles and awkward pauses until the record was complete and the meeting could begin.

Officially, the primary purpose of today was to lay the groundwork for the rest of the war, however long it lasted. A loose framework had already formed, System Armies and computer-assigned battalions, but it was all shaky at best and unable to hold for long. They needed a real plan, not randomly selected units, and the world's weight on the Council's shoulders.

But the first thing on the list, the first matter of discussion, would be the heaviest.

"The agenda begins with the matter of appointment." Ailani said, as calmly as she could manage, "The Senate is asking for a more formal resolution involving the Jedi's leadership in the GAR effort. "

The GAR Act had put in place many things, mainly the Senate's ability to assign Jedi roles at a whim. They had voted on the part of General for most Jedi, writing it into Republic law and cheering as the Jedi got no say, yet this had not yet been formally adopted by the order, at least not in documentation. Ailani was sure no one wanted to write down their change from peacekeeper to warmonger.

"With Jedi Knights and Masters alike appointed to the role of General, it seems necessary to appoint their Padawans as well." Master Ki-Adi began, always getting to the point, with or without tact.

The air in the room shifted at his words, and Ailani felt her throat tighten.

They had all read the agenda; they had all known where this conversation would end up. None of them were ignorant or naive. Yet hearing it out loud was much worse than running through it in one's head, and the distaste of war settled on Ailani's tongue like bile.

"That is a dangerous notion." Depa countered, speaking what Ailani felt, "My Padawan is not ready for such a weight. Not to mention the Yavin Code."

Caleb Dume. The boy was only ten yet he was as spry and as mischievous as any Padawan Ailani had ever known. Bright-eyed and eager, attached to Depa's hip at all times. Though most Council members took no Padawan during their appointment, Depa had appeared to manage the transition easily, ever the attentive Master accompanied by her ever-attentive Padawan.

Caleb was merely a boy. He still ran through the hallways sometimes, no matter how often Ailani insisted he would get them both in trouble. He still chewed with his mouth open at dinner, always speaking and telling stories.

Ailani did not know him that well, but she knew enough. She knew he would make a fine Jedi one day, fueled by the love his Master had shown him and the raw talent he radiated. Yet Ailani also knew that Caleb Dume was merely a boy right here and now. Barely a Jedi, not even a whisper of a military man.

And the Yavin Code. What had Depa meant by that? Ailani searched her head, trying to remember the document, but only vague memories found her. It had something to do with the rules of warfare, but it had been long since any Jedi needed such a thing. Ailani made a mental note to review the Yavin Code, and since no one mentioned it besides Depa, she also made a note to send a copy of the document to every Master present.

Not that they would have time to read it anyway.

But despite it all, Ailani knew that Ki-Adi was correct. Caleb would need a title—a military role. The Senate would demand one for security reasons, or they would require the Padawan's removal. Perhaps removal would be safer until they all understood what any formal title would mean.

"None of us are ready," Ki-Adi pushed again, his face grave, "That does not make it less necessary."

Right again. Painfully, cruelly, correct. Ailani suddenly wished to be back in her room with the holocron of prophecy, if only so she could beg it for answers.

"Padawans will need an official security clearance." Ailani interrupted, backing up Master Mundi even though her heart longed to do otherwise. "With the formation of the GAR, my war reports must now be presented before the Senate. We cannot have Padawans listed as mere consultants. If they accompany their Masters on the battlefield regularly, the Senate will require a more formal approach." Her words sunk into the room slowly, agonizingly, brutally slowly. She wanted to add her doubts but felt insecurity was the worst trait she could display.

The twelve Council members present had been appointed for a reason. For their logic, their knowledge, their insight, and their skill. All of these things led them all to the same conclusion, the conclusion none of them had wanted to voice aloud.

"Captains?" Kenobi said after a moment, more debating with himself than with anyone else. He was still so new to the role, working matters over in his mind to find his place. He did not fit awkwardly amongst them, just…uncertainty. There was much doubt in him, though he hid it well.

Ailani answered him even as she could see his eyes far off in space, thinking through his conclusions, "Their clearance should be higher or equal to that of their Clone Commanders." The words fell from her lips strangely. It had made sense when she said it, yet looking around the room, it felt all wrong. Experience made up rank and title; it was true for the Jedi, and still, it must be true for war.

The chipped paint on Neyo's armor said experience. The air around Cody commanded attention. And Wolffe had taught Ailani more about the complexity of their position in two mere conversations than she had learned in a lifetime of classrooms.

Padawans learned. Padawans were children. What right did they have to war, and what right did she have to force them into it?

"Ah." Master Kenobi did not seem satisfied with her answer, yet he said nothing else. If he had a better idea, he kept it close. Ailani suspected he did not. No one in the room seemed satisfied, but Ailani knew they would have to get used to such a feeling.

A long silence dragged across the room, heavy and cold. There was so much to say and yet so little strength to say it. Or perhaps it was stronger for them to say nothing at all.

"We should vote." Ailani said, breaking the air and wishing this all could end before her heart tied itself into too many knots, "This may be a GAR matter, but we are Jedi first."

"Wise, young one." Master Ti said, her voice slow and melodic. Though her tone portrayed ease, no one followed her lead, and they fell silent again.

What Ailani would give them all to speak their mind, and yet how she wished all of them would stay silent and never speak of war again.

"One of you must enact it," Ailani whispered, speaking what they already knew but were too heavy to say.

Slowly, the group nodded. Resigned.

"I move for a motion to promote all acting Padawans to the role of Commander in the Grand Army of the Republic," Ki-Adi-Mundi spoke first.

"I second the motion." Said Master Even Piell, though his eyes did not seem convinced of his words. He was practical and logical but not foolish. He saw the noose they all tied around their necks.

Ailani pulled the ropes. "All in favor, say aye."

Throughout the room, mumbles of halfhearted agreement left trembling lips. Her eyes scanned faces and shaking heads. The clone commanders were so still they could have been statues.

"All against." She said.

This decision would require unity, solidarity, and strength. It would require the cooperation of everyone involved if they were to keep standing. Ailani held the silence momentarily, her gaze trained on Depa. Master Billaba closed her eyes, almost as if in pain, but said nothing.

"Motion passed." Ailani tried to keep her voice from cracking, so her words finished with a dying breath.

The room was silent. The Force was silent.

Ailani's heart had never beat so loud in her life.

But she spoke evenly as if they had merely been debating the weather. Time to play Jedi. Time to be strong. "Next on the agenda is the discussion of initial assignments. Master Kenobi, I am sending you and Anakin Skywalker to Christophsis."

#ailani réillata #begged and borrowed time #writings

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castlesrp · 2 months

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The Cheng Family

Hera : Big Pharma Company

The Cheng family is a powerhouse in the pharmaceutical industry, balancing the fine line of intersections between business and medicine. First Cheng (67) is at the head of the family, tirelessly serving as the CEO of Cheng Pharmaceuticals, a top-tier big pharma company based in the heart of New York City after inheriting the business from her father who instilled a strong code of moral ethics and familial loyalty to the industry that he worked so hard to establish the Cheng name within. Beside her is her husband, First Lu (68), an esteemed scientist in the pharmaceutical world who works as the Lead Researcher and Scientists within the company’s Research and Development division.

The eldest son, First Cheng (47), shoulders the expectation of inheriting the family legacy. Despite being a CEO-in-Training for the last five years under his mother’s watchful eye, he grapples with growing frustration, feeling ready to assume the reins that his mother holds so tightly away from him. His wife, First Cheng (49), is a distinguished neurosurgeon at Mount Sinai Hospital to add another layer of medical notoriety to the family name. The two have three children, a set of twins and a younger daughter.

Next in line is First Cheng-Sinclair (45), a psychologist with a private practice and her husband, First Sinclair (45) and have created a warm and loving home for their two adopted daughters. Stuck in the middle and feeling the pressures of being the middle child is First Cheng (43), serving as the Chief Marketing Officer for Cheng Pharmaceuticals - constantly seeking to prove her worth to her mother and demonstrate the importance of her role in the family business.

Completing the family ensemble are the two youngest: First Cheng (41) who works as the Clinical Trial Director for the company and First Cheng (39). A renowned fashion designer who, despite external success, grapples with the perception of being a disappointment in her mother’s eyes for not going into the family business or a related industry, she has recently been in talks with First Whitman (33) and First Whitman (33), possibly looking to combine their talents and resources to create a creative fashion Haus in Manhattan.

First Cheng: 67 Years Old, CEO of Cheng Pharmaceuticals, Michelle Yeoh, Available + First Lu: 68 Years Old, Lead Researcher and Scientist, BD Wong, Available

First Cheng: 47 Years Old, CEO in Training, Daniel Wu, Available + First Cheng: 49 Years Old, Open Occupation, Olivia Coleman, Available ----- First Cheng: 25 Years Old, Open Occupation, Jordan Connor, Available * ----- FIrst Cheng: 25 Years Old, Open Occupation, Chloe Bennet, Available * ----- First Cheng: 22 Years Old, Open Occupation, Natasha Liu Bordizzo * Note: Cheng (25) and Cheng (25) are fraternal twins

First Cheng-Sinclair: 45 Years Old, Psychiatrist, Gemma Chan, Available + First Sinclair: 45 Years Old, Open Occupation, Sebastian Stan, Available ----- First Sinclair: 23 Years Old, Open Occupation, Christina Nadin, Available * ----- First Sinclair: 21 Years Old, Open Occupation, Courtney Eaton, Available * * Note: Sinclair (23) and Sinclair (22) are both adopted

First Cheng: 43 Years Old, Chief Marketing Officer of Cheng Pharmaceuticals, Constance Wu, Available

First Cheng: 41 Years Old, Clinical Trial Director of Cheng Pharmaceuticals, Harry Shum Jr, Available

First Cheng: 39 Years Old, Fashion Designer, Fan Bingbing, Available

#roleplay #jcink rp #jcink #rp #canon rp #canons

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oxbowridgehq · 2 months

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Old wounds open the past that can no longer be run from.

STATS.

NAME: Amina Wright-Jones GENDER & PRONOUNS: cis woman & she/her AGE: 39 OCCUPATION: Doctor AFFILIATIONS: Civilian FACECLAIMS: Gugu Mbatha-Raw

ABOUT.

TW death, murder

Amina is a native of Oxbow Ridge. She didn’t grow up with any siblings, but that didn’t mean she didn’t feel like she had family from those she grew up around. Her father worked closely with the Walkers when it came to training their horses, which is how she spent a lot of her time on the ranch. There was a calmness when it came to working with the animals, which eventually led to her to barrel racing at the age of eight.

There was a thrill that came being on a horse sprinting down the arena and around a barrel, adrenaline that pumped through her veins. It didn’t come without the trial and errors, the trips to the clinic falling off her horse. It was the Walkers that allowed her to follow this dream growing up, that she had somewhere to keep her horse, though she paid them back in coming to help around the stables, doing the grunt work. That is how she met Sterling; not that many would know him by that name.

He intrigued her. Quiet and kept to himself, but that didn’t stop her from getting to know him. It all started as a friendship, where she would keep to her duties at the ranch, but then drag him out beyond the limits of the town, almost keeping them out of trouble. A friendship budded at their age that only blossomed into her first love.

Most were surprised that out of high school she didn’t end up at a veterinarian school, instead, she picked a university close to town where she could study in the medical field. Amina loved animals, but over the years, she found herself helping those that were hurt from the races at the Steveson.

Eight years went by in what seemed like a blink of an eye and she could start to feel a slight strain on her relationship with Sterling. It only seemed to deepen when it came time for placement for residency and she was placed in New York City. Amina contemplated taking a year off and waiting to see if she could be placed closer to home, but then there had been talk about them both going to New York together, that all was left in his hands; hands that tore her heart into pieces.

Amina could recount that night word for word, everything he said to her, the love he no longer had for her and he would never be good enough. It felt like she was staring into the eyes of a stranger that the only option she had was to pack up for residency. It was two months into her residency that she learned she was pregnant. It was the world reminding her of everything she had lost, but a small miracle came out of it.

She met her future husband, Noah, who didn’t turn away when she shared her news and when asked about the father, she lied saying she didn’t know who it was. They married shortly after, before the baby was born, allowing him to have his name on the birth certificate. After their wedding, three months later, Sterling Wright-Jones was born into this world and Amina carried on with her life with her husband and daughter.

Her life wasn’t perfect, but it was her life that she built in New York, never looking back at the decisions she made in life, because there was no room for the past.

Life had moments of cruelty, fourteen years later her husband was murdered right in front of her. It left a hole in her heart and after a few months of trying to grieve and survive in the city, her parents convinced her to come back home. A position opened up at the clinic and she would have a support system to help her through this period of time. Amina hated taking her daughter away from the only place she had called home, but there was no other choice. Sterling protested, but the state her mother was in, she didn’t drag her heels too deep.

Worse than grieving the death of her husband, Amina was going home to a place she had put behind her for fourteen years, where she would have to confront the past she was running from. Would Remy and Sterling ever forgive her if they learned the truth?

#semi appless rp #crime rp #mature rp #dark rp #skeleton rp #oc rp #original rp #lsrp #lsrpg #literate rp #town rp #mumu rp #all.#closed.#original.#civilian.#amina.

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dragoneyes618 · 9 months

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Where and how did the Inhumane Society keep Lizzie captive?

The organization had four willing members and three unwilling members. The willing ones were Hangfire, Stew Mitchum, Nurse Dander, and Dr. Flammarion (it was never explained why the latter two allied with him). The unwilling ones were Sharon Haines, Sally Murphy, and Ellington Feint (and technically Kellar too, for a while).

But after WDYSHL, there were only two willing members - Hangfire and Stew. Nurse Dander, and Dr. Flammarion got arrested and sent to the city to stand trial (or so we're told. I don't suppose it was confirmed if they actually got there?). That leaves only Hangfire and STew, the latter of whom is a boy who can't be much older than thirteen, to imprison Lizzie.

Sharon and Sally obviously weren't helping to keep Lizzie captive, because the only reason they were helping Hangfire in the first place was because he was blackmailing them with Lizzie's safety.

And Hangfire and Stew were busy with Hangfire's plans throughout the series. They both make multiple appearances in SYBIS; clearly, they were not actively guarding Lizzie or whatever.

In WITNDFAON, Sally somehow rescues Lizzie, disguises her, and sneaks her onto the train. She believes that she'll never be free of Hangfire, that he'll likely kill her like he tried to, but she's determined to at least get Lizzie out safely. (Lizzie's acting skills were a lot better than hers, but I think that can be explained away to extreme nervousness and stress.)

But if Sharon knew where Lizzie was, why didn't she try to rescue her before, instead of being blackmailed by Hangfire?

She may only have found out recently, being somewhat affiliated with the Inhumane Society. Okay then. So she managed to rescue her - Hangfire was unaware that his hostage was gone.

But who was supposed to be holding her hostage? Every member of the Inhumane Society was on the train. Lizzie was not supposed to be on it.

Lizzie wasn't in Wade Academy, obviously, since Sharon and Kellar were there. She couldn't have been in the Colophon Clinic, at least not after it was all but destroyed.

Stain'd-By-The-Sea has any number of abandoned buildings, Lizzie could have been in one of those. But who was watching her to make sure she didn't escape? After all, Nurse Dander was with Ellington disguised as Cleo to make sure she didn't escape.

Did Hangfire just keep her drugged with laudanum and locked in a room somewhere without bothering to guard her? Under the influence of laudanum, she wouldn't be able to escape by herself; and, indeed, she didn't, until Sally found her.

#atwq #all the wrong questions #lemony snicket #lizzie haines #sharon haines #hangfire #armstrong feint #sally murphy #dame sally murphy #inhumane society #the inhumane society #kellar haines #stew mitchum #dr. flammarion #nurse dander

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lazaruspiss · 7 months

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Historic Gotham: Part Two

Novick Building: The Novick Building was built in the early 1800s and was part of Alan Wayne's plans to expand Gotham City into a more modern metropolis. It's one of the tallest landmarks in the Old Gotham district. The Novick Building has been used for various purposes during its existence. It was once the home of a newspaper agency, a library, a bank and temporarily housed the Labor Union before they relocated to the West End. It is now used as an office space for various small- time companies and start-ups. I once considered using the empty dome at the top of the building as the location for what later became the Belfry base but decided against it as there are no easy access points and renovations would have been too noticeable. Notes: The Novick Building provides a good vantage point of the Courthouse and City Hall. Can use it to supervise transport for trials.

Gotham City Post Office: The Gotham City Post Office has been open for more than a century, handling everything from letters to ship cargo. It houses over thirty employees and sends out hundreds of mailmen and women across the city every day. The Riddler once used the post office for an intricate scheme using letters, since they can't be as easily traced as digital information. But the workers at the post office went on strike, which made his whole plan fall apart. I later found the Riddler at Robinson Plaza trying to catch birds to train them to be carrier pigeons. I've since made a contact at the post office who warns me of any suspicious activity taking place there. Along with my other contact at the Dixon Docks, we've managed to find and destroy many packages of contraband. Notes: All of my non-essential packages are sent to the post office under the pseudonym Jack Shaw.

Statue of Justice: The Statue of Justice was originally commissioned by the Kane family not long after the foundation of Gotham City. It's located on a small hill, where it oversees Tricorner Island, and is visible all the way from the Kane bridge. The Statue is blindfolded and is holding a sword and scale. Some say it's because it is casting judgment on the city, while others claim it's protecting it. It's become a popular tourist attraction and many shops, as well as the visitor center, have opened their doors on the plaza. Anarky once attempted to topple the statue for a political statement, but Dick and I managed to apprehend him and deactivate the bomb he had planted. The mayor has tried to bring tourists back with promotional events and festivals, but many have been reticent to return since the incident.

St. Swithuns Church: The St. Swithuns Church was built near the shores of the Gotham City Bay to protect ships coming to Port Adams and the Miller Harbor in the 19th century. It withstood wars and storms alike and was temporarily turned into a makeshift clinic after a hurricane caused a cruise ship to crash nearby. Gotham City General Hospital was overflowing with patients and the nuns of St. Swithuns volunteered to treat the survivors who were still being rescued. They saved the lives of over fifty people, including Oswald's aunt, Miranda Cobblepot. Because of this, the church was named a historical site. Some sailors today still go to St. Swithuns before leaving to pray for safe passage. My father would do the same thing to reassure his crew when came the time to test new ship prototypes.

#gotham knights #Locations (GK)#Historic Gotham (GK)

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commanderfreddy · 1 year

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the man I am now

(a very long look back at the year)

2022 marks my 10th year on tumblr, my 25th year of life, and the ending of a strange, dark, 33-month winter that I entered too young and emerge from feeling entirely too old.

At the beginning of this year, my dad noticed that he was having some cognitive problems, assuming they were side-effects of the medication he took to manage his oesophageal cancer, and he asked me to move back home to be his carer, since my brother worked and studied full-time and I had just quit my job.

Only now, in retrospect, do I know that there is no world, anywhere in all of possibility, where I said no. It wasn't a choice, no matter how I agonised over it. I got to work and to complaining right away. I handled it about as gracelessly as any human being can do anything.

The week before I dragged all my crap across the city back to my family home, dad had a fall, and went to the emergency room. There, he was diagnosed with a brain tumour.

I think I gave up on my father more times than I can count. So many nights, waiting in an empty house, imagining his hospital bed growing cold.

Because no matter how much good news he wrung from his test results, no matter the optimism his doctors showed, no matter the plans we so doggedly laid, we had been here before.

My mother died on March 25th, 2020, only three months after being diagnosed with lung cancer.

When dad passed, we knew what crematorium to use, where his ashes would join hers in the memorial garden. All of that had been sealed in stone from the moment of his diagnosis. Because no matter how many medical professionals tried to reassure us that my mother's death had been an anomaly, a tragedy, a hideous confluence of malignance - this was our story. We knew every line, every movement, every futile rise and fall, and we played our parts as precisely as ever.

Everyone feels guilty when someone they love dies. I was sure of my role in his death before he even stopped breathing. I can play the innocent, say I was fumbling blindly through a period of life no one ever wants to imagine, let alone live through, but I know better. I knew what I was doing, when I suggested he try a week in the hospice to see how he found it, and so did he. No matter how I phrased it as a temporary stay, an introduction to the facility, he knew what was happening. When we loaded him into the patient transport to the palliative care hospice, he told me he was beginning the first day of the last stage of his life. I told him not to think like that. As though I didn't know. As though there was ever any other path.

Never once this year did I want him to die. Never once this year did I doubt he would.

I remember thinking that if he died before mid-November, my brother could still go on his Europe holiday. And he did, and he did. I remember thinking if I applied for a course in the US, I'd have something to do next year. And I did and I do.

It's not that I feel like I manifested his death personally. Perhaps, if I had gone a different kind of mad, if I had thrown myself at the bounds of this story with all my strength, I might have lucked into something. Stumbled across some clinical trial that might have done something, anything, even if only alleviate the mystery pain in his left hand that remained until he died. But I didn't. I knew, with the same certainty that I was alive, that he was going to die. And so he did.

Do I feel guilty for capitulating to that certainty? For challenging it only superficially, in a useless and often insulting attempt to cheer my dad up? Do I feel guilty for my inability to imagine another story, not even another ending, just a different middle, a final year of life where I didn't set my house on fucking fire, where we didn't snap at each other as the walls closed in, where he made that stupid train, where I did something, anything, except sit in my room and grow less and less solid, until the only ghost left in the house was me?

I don't know what I feel.

Something was my fault. A lot of things were - arguments, oversleeping, buying the wrong brand of rice, the fire (my god my god. All my furniture was thrown out. I live in a room of strange new things, objects that had never been breathed on by my mother. One bedroom in a four room house. Full and empty and full and empty). But something else was my fault, too. Something More.

I think I'll spend my life looking for it, this thing that burdens me, that overweighs my mind and crushes memories beneath its inscrutable mass.

If I knew what it was, I would understand, then. I'd understand it all, who I am, where I came from, where I'm going, what happened to me, who my parents were - everything, all of it will become clear as soon as I realise what it is I did wrong.

What I could have done differently.

I remember, perhaps a day or two before he went into hospice, waking him up from a fitful and unpleasant nap so he could have dinner. He spoke of an argument with me, and I don't even know what he accused me of saying, just that it was so awful, so directly drawn from the very worst parts of my psyche, that I could focus on nothing but reassuring him that it had just been a dream. But the other conversation he recalled, he could not be convinced was a dream. I wasn't there for his last meeting with his oncologist, doing my best to "give him privacy" (slack off) ((hide from reality)), but it was a month or two before he passed. And my dad felt then, with his transfer from oncology to palliative care, that his doctor had given up on him.

I hated to hear him say that, the bitterness and fear in his voice. I hated to hear him say that, knowing I had given up on him first.

But these are the people we are. We are crushed by the weight of life to the shape it has taken so far, anticipating it to continue in much the same way.

Dad had a few genuine high moments of optimism last year, when it was just oesophageal cancer, when it was one foe, as yet asymptomatic, that could be grappled with, one-on-one. But after the brain cancer diagnosis, we couldn't keep the darkness at bay.

My father wasn't a religious man. His mind was his soul. This was the one death he couldn't bear to die.

And so it was the only death that could take him.

He stayed, right until the very end. It was him that I saw, behind eyes he struggled to move, trying to force breath past lips that could not move.

He was so afraid of being Mum. Mum, who, for the last two? - three? - days of her existence, could not respond. Who could be woken, but not to a world she could see or interact with. Whose eyes darted, vague and furious, as she failed to meet mine. She frightened me then, the wild, lost look on her face. And she frightened Dad, who begged me, in his last week of life, to reassure him that he did not look like that. That he was not leaving me in such an ugly procession.

That he could ask was proof enough. And then his voice deserted him, and it was only with his careful, pleading eyes that he could beg.

What a relief it was when I showed him the pictures I took of the lunar eclipse of the night before and he could respond, in genuine, true reaction, surprise and wonder in his raising eyebrows, the widening of his eyelids.

That night they called me in to say goodbye.

I ran 3 kilometres uphill in the dark, wearing a jacket that seemed to float around me, like I weighed nothing, like I was nothing, like I was flying, furling out into the night, moving at last without the burden of breath or need for fuel, simply going as fast as possibly could.

Not fast enough.

When my mother died I was eating a bowl of spaghetti.

When my father died I was waiting for the lights to change across from the train station.

Life ends in much the same manner in which it is lived.

Weeks in the hospital, watching, wondering, knowing, and still I couldn't be there to say goodbye.

Perhaps that's it, the source of the guilt. Perhaps it's just another thing, another instant of existence to regret. Something you can't change.

A choice that isn't a choice at all.

I died this year.

We all die every year: a hundred tiny deaths as strangers forget our faces, as someone stops ordering their tea the way you first recommended it, as you ignore a text from someone for the last time, and your lives forever diverge. No doubt I died this way as many times as usual. But I have, I feel, become something else, too.

Something I don't particularly like, with so many of the same old flaws and failings - oversleeping, failing to think of others, walking in that hunched way that hurts my shoulders, but something new all the same.

When I first started this blog, I was fourteen years old. I was so loud, and I took up all the wrong space, moving in an awkward, unintentionally exaggerated manner, and annoying everyone for it.

Now I go days without speaking. My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth and takes effort to dislodge. Something about my body language makes me hard to see, and I'll stand at a shop counter for eons, always surprising the cashier when they turn around, no inkling that anyone was there. There are few other situations beyond shopping where I will interact with someone.

On Christmas Eve I delivered a box of chocolates to my neighbours, and with their combined six extroverted bodies, was shepherded inside to sit in their sunroom and share a platter of fruit with them. It was such a strange and alien bliss, cold grapes in summer, the gentle licks from their dog, the awkward bend of my legs upon the floorboards as I asked my neighbour what she was studying, only to be overcome with an inexplicable gratitude when she said nursing.

But some of this is old, too. You can go back, dig through my archives, my personal posts, my plaintive adolescent agonies that persist, no matter how I try to articulate them better, that feel just as wretched as when I was fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, eternal, undying.

I've always felt other, separate. It scares me to have proof of it. What then, what now? How do I tether myself to the belief that I am human, that I must be, if only because there is nothing else I could be? I'm no longer anyone's child.

I talked about this with my mother once, saying it was funny that we still call people's offspring their "children" even when they're grown, when they're old, and she said that I'd always be her baby, even when I was old and she was even older. Well I'm young and she's gone and I'll never be anyone's baby again.

I feel the need to disclaim that I'm never gonna kill myself. For a variety of reasons, but lately, most of all, because dying is so fucking difficult. I don't really trust anyone to get it right for me. And that's the scariest part about death. No one dies alone. No matter how long it takes to run up that steepest of hills. It's a process, a long drawn out one, even when the death is sudden and an anomaly to oncologists everywhere. The death begins at a point I can't find, and never really ends. Not even when you're forgotten - you're still dead then and you're still dying, as the universe dies around you. Beyond nights in hospitals and days in legal offices, you die over and over, constantly, in everyone's minds, in everyone's lives, as they become people you can't know, needing help you will never be able to provide, and still and still they carry you with them, your dusk-tossed dust long gone while the spectre of the person you once were to them hammers away in their heart.

I'm not gonna kill myself. I don't think I'm qualified to die.

But I'm not sure I can figure out how to be born again, either.

"Das Ei ist die Welt. Wer geboren werden will, muss eine Welt zerstören" [The egg is the world. Whoever wishes to be born must destroy a world]. I don't know what world I have left to destroy.

I have become strange to myself, to the lonely teenager that first settled into this digital space, even as I have failed to ease any of his pains. I never was cut out to be a carer. I'm forgetting how to care at all. I'm becoming thin (my doctor's worried about my diet but I can't remember to eat) and thinner (sometimes I feel like you can see the world through me, transparent and just as frangible as a window, too). I won't let myself die. But that's all I have. I can no longer think in future tense, not specifically, not beyond the pretentious, sweeping eternalisms I declare in an attempt to hitch myself to something bigger than myself.

Nothing is big enough. Multiplying by zero always gets you to the same place.

I set out to write a summary of the year, to try and get my head around this epicentre of my existence. I'm not sure what I ended up with, or where I am. Certainly not how to finish.

My bad.

When I write fiction, I've had the most success by starting with an ending, and building the most satisfying leadup I can to make it worthwhile. Probably should have done that here.

Then again, this year has shown me all too well what happens when you decide on the ending before your story is done.

#personal #death and dying talk #fred says a thing #this started out as a kind of #2022 year in review #Thing.#but there's really only one thing i can talk about #one framework for the life i have lived for the past 12 months #i really did try to find a hopeful note to end on #but sometimes ambiguity is all the comfort you can get #still its there #in the unknowns and unknowables #potential for something #ill be ok #i dont know how to be anything else

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arjaysingh · 19 hours

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Navigating the Landscape of Medical Education in India: A Comprehensive Analysis of Manipal Tata Medical College (MTMC), Jamshedpur

In the vast landscape of medical education in India, pursuing a Bachelor of Medicine, Bachelor of Surgery (MBBS) is a dream cherished by many aspiring doctors. With its rich history, diverse culture, and renowned institutions, India stands as a beacon of medical excellence globally. Among the myriad of institutions, Tata Medical College (MTMC), Jamshedpur, shines brightly, offering not just education but an experience that shapes future physicians into compassionate healers. In this narrative, we delve into the journey of MBBS education in India, highlighting the significance of institutions like MTMC in shaping the medical landscape.

The MBBS Journey in India

India's MBBS education is characterised by its rigorous curriculum, comprehensive training, and emphasis on practical learning. The journey begins with intense competition as students strive to secure admission into prestigious medical colleges across the country. The National Eligibility cum Entrance Test (NEET) serves as the gateway to these institutions, testing the aptitude and knowledge of aspiring medical professionals. This standardised examination ensures that only the brightest minds with a passion for medicine gain entry into the esteemed institutions.

Once admitted, students embark on a transformative journey filled with challenges and opportunities. The MBBS curriculum encompasses a wide array of subjects ranging from anatomy and physiology to pharmacology and pathology. The emphasis on both theoretical knowledge and clinical skills equips students with a holistic understanding of medical science. Moreover, practical training through clinical rotations in various departments exposes students to real-world medical scenarios, honing their diagnostic abilities and bedside manner.

During their MBBS journey

students also engage in various extracurricular activities, including medical conferences, research projects, and community service initiatives. These experiences not only broaden their horizons but also instil in them a sense of social responsibility and empathy, qualities essential for effective healthcare professionals.

Tata Medical College, Jamshedpur

Manipal TATA Medical College (MTMC) Jamshedpur nestled in the industrial city of Jamshedpur, stands as a testament to excellence in medical education. Established by the Tata Group, renowned for its philanthropic endeavours, MTMC embodies the values of integrity, innovation, and social responsibility. The college boasts state-of-the-art infrastructure, including modern classrooms, well-equipped laboratories, and simulation centres that facilitate hands-on learning experiences.

Moreover, MTMC prides itself on its distinguished faculty comprising experienced clinicians, researchers, and academicians who are committed to nurturing the next generation of healthcare leaders. The faculty members not only impart knowledge but also serve as mentors, guiding students MBBS in Jharkhand through their academic journey and inspiring them to excel in their chosen fields.

One of the distinctive features of MTMC is its close collaboration with Tata Main Hospital, a tertiary care centre renowned for its quality healthcare services. Through clinical rotations and clerkships at Tata Main Hospital, students gain invaluable exposure to a wide range of medical specialties, including surgery, internal medicine, paediatrics, obstetrics, and gynaecology. This hands-on experience enables students to apply theoretical knowledge to real-life patient care situations, thereby enhancing their clinical skills and decision-making abilities.

Research and Extracurricular Activities

Moreover, MTMC places a strong emphasis on research, encouraging students to engage in scientific inquiry and innovation. From conducting clinical trials to publishing research papers in reputed journals, students are encouraged to push the boundaries of medical knowledge and contribute to the advancement of healthcare. The college provides ample resources and mentorship to support student research initiatives, fostering a culture of academic excellence and intellectual curiosity.

Beyond academics, MTMC nurtures holistic development by offering various extracurricular activities and community engagement programs. From medical camps in rural areas to health awareness campaigns in urban centres, students actively participate in initiatives aimed at improving healthcare accessibility and promoting public health. These experiences not only enrich their educational experience but also instil in them a sense of social responsibility and empathy, qualities that are essential for competent and compassionate healthcare professionals.

Conclusion

Pursuing MBBS in India is not just about acquiring medical knowledge but about embarking on a transformative journey that shapes individuals into compassionate healers and lifelong learners. Institutions like Tata Medical College, Jamshedpur, play a pivotal role in this journey by providing a nurturing environment, rigorous training, and opportunities for holistic development. As the torchbearers of India's medical fraternity, graduates of MTMC carry forward the legacy of excellence, innovation, and service, making a meaningful impact on healthcare both nationally and globally.

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brookstonalmanac · 5 days

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Events 4.26 (after 1950)

1954 – The Geneva Conference, an effort to restore peace in Indochina and Korea, begins. 1954 – The first clinical trials of Jonas Salk's polio vaccine begin in Fairfax County, Virginia. 1956 – SS Ideal X, the world's first successful container ship, leaves Port Newark, New Jersey, for Houston, Texas. 1958 – Final run of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad's Royal Blue from Washington, D.C., to New York City after 68 years, the first U.S. passenger train to use electric locomotives. 1960 – Forced out by the April Revolution, President of South Korea Syngman Rhee resigns after 12 years of dictatorial rule. 1962 – NASA's Ranger 4 spacecraft crashes into the Moon. 1962 – The British space programme launches its first satellite, the Ariel 1. 1963 – In Libya, amendments to the constitution transform Libya (United Kingdom of Libya) into one national unity (Kingdom of Libya) and allows for female participation in elections. 1964 – Tanganyika and Zanzibar merge to form the United Republic of Tanzania. 1966 – The magnitude 5.1 Tashkent earthquake affects the largest city in Soviet Central Asia with a maximum MSK intensity of VII (Very strong). Tashkent is mostly destroyed and 15–200 are killed. 1966 – A new government is formed in the Republic of the Congo, led by Ambroise Noumazalaye. 1970 – The Convention Establishing the World Intellectual Property Organization enters into force. 1981 – Dr. Michael R. Harrison of the University of California, San Francisco Medical Center performs the world's first human open fetal surgery. 1986 – The Chernobyl disaster occurs in the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic. 1989 – The deadliest known tornado strikes Central Bangladesh, killing upwards of 1,300, injuring 12,000, and leaving as many as 80,000 homeless. 1989 – People's Daily publishes the April 26 Editorial which inflames the nascent Tiananmen Square protests. 1991 – Fifty-five tornadoes break out in the central United States. Before the outbreak's end, Andover, Kansas, would record the year's only F5 tornado. 1993 – The Space Shuttle Columbia is launched on mission STS-55 to conduct experiments aboard the Spacelab module. 1994 – China Airlines Flight 140 crashes at Nagoya Airport in Japan, killing 264 of the 271 people on board. 1994 – South Africa begins its first multiracial election, which is won by Nelson Mandela's African National Congress. 2002 – Robert Steinhäuser kills 16 at Gutenberg-Gymnasium in Erfurt, Germany before committing suicide. 2005 – Cedar Revolution: Under international pressure, Syria withdraws the last of its 14,000 troop military garrison in Lebanon, ending its 29-year military domination of that country (Syrian occupation of Lebanon). 2015 – Nursultan Nazarbayev is re-elected President of Kazakhstan with 97.7% of the vote, one of the biggest vote shares in Kazakhstan's history.

#Events

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viralwritershub · 7 days

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Comprehensive Cancer Care in Newark NJ: A Beacon of Hope for Patients

Facing a cancer diagnosis is more than just a personal health challenge. It's a moment that repositions the compass of life for the individual and their loved ones, and in this dynamic of uncertainty, the beacon of comprehensive cancer care becomes invaluable.

Newark, New Jersey, stands as a destination where innovation meets compassion, and quality interweaves with convenience in the realm of cancer treatment. Delving into this critical healthcare domain, we aim to unravel the components that make Newark, NJ a trusted hub for cancer care.

Unveiling the Hub of Cutting-Edge Therapies

In the realm of cancer care Newark NJ, innovation takes center stage. Newark has positioned itself as a hub for cutting-edge therapies, boasting top-tier facilities and a team of oncology specialists renowned for their trailblazing efforts. The city's cancer care centers not only embrace the latest medical breakthroughs but also actively drive the evolution of treatment paradigms. From advanced radiation therapy to precision-targeted molecular interventions, Newark's institutions guarantee patients receive premier care while spearheading advancements in the field.

Bridging Excellence with Access

The quest for the right cancer care is often overshadowed by logistical and financial barriers. Newark, NJ, however, is defining a new standard by proving that excellence and accessibility can coexist. The city's oncology institutes boast not just of their high success rates and comprehensive care models, but also of programs that ensure cost is never a deterrence for a patient in need. By partnering with various organizations, these centers offer a spectrum of financial aids, personal care navigators, and support services that bridge the gap between a patient and the care they deserve.

Patient-Centric Navigation: Beyond Medical Treatment

Cancer care is not confined to clinical settings; it encompasses a holistic approach that acknowledges the patient's physical, mental, and emotional well-being. In Newark, NJ, the philosophy of patient-centric care is diligently pursued. This approach involves not only the personalized treatment plans but also support for the patient's family, integrated mental health services, and survivorship programs that advocate continuity of quality care well beyond the disease's remission. The aim is to create an ecosystem where patients feel empowered, informed, and not just participants in, but champions of, their care.

Research and Education: Paving the Way for Tomorrow

Novel cancer therapies grow from the seeds of research. Newark's standing as a beacon of comprehensive cancer care is strengthened by its unwavering commitment to education and research. Here, medical education is intricately interwoven with patient care, with a focus on training the next generation of oncologists with values centered around research and innovation. Be it participating in national clinical trials or conducting in-house studies, the practitioners in Newark are consistently pushing the envelope, making sure that their patients have access to treatment modalities that are at the cusp of breakthroughs.

A Testament to Survivorship and Community Strength

Cancer care is as much about resilience as it is about treatment. Newark's oncology centers pride themselves on fostering a community of survivors, advocates, and support systems. Throughout the city, one can find numerous testimonies of triumph over cancer, each narrating a unique story of courage and hope. The community comes together not only in the form of support groups and survivor networks but also through various awareness and charitable events that not only fund treatments but also spread the message of prevention and early detection.

Nurturing Hope through Outreach and Public Health Initiatives

In the sphere of cancer care, hope is a powerful remedy. Newark's healthcare establishment recognizes this and has designed a multitude of outreach programs aiming to spread the message of early detection, prevention, and the availability of quality care. Through partnerships with community health centers, educational seminars, and proactive health campaigns, Newark is ensuring that no one battles cancer alone, uninformed, or without a chance at early intervention.

Empowering Patients with Knowledge and Advocacy

One of the most formidable tools in the arsenal against cancer is informed decision-making. Newark, NJ, is empowering its patients with the necessary knowledge and advocacy to steer their course effectively. With robust patient education initiatives, including informational materials, one-on-one consultations, and the provision of online resources, patients become integral parts of their treatment journeys, better equipped to make choices that resonate with their values and objectives.

The Human Touch in Advanced Care

While technology and clinical protocols are advancing at an unprecedented pace, the essence of human touch remains an irreplaceable aspect of cancer care nj. The healthcare providers in Newark infuse compassion into every interaction, recognizing that the patients they serve are more than just cases in a medical journal. It is this combination of advanced treatments and compassionate care that distinguishes the city's healthcare landscape and resonates with those in search of not just cure, but comfort.

An Ongoing Commitment to Excellence

Newark's prominence in the domain of comprehensive cancer care is far from being a static achievement. It is a result of a collective and ongoing commitment by its healthcare institutions, dedicated professionals, and the community it serves.

This unwavering pledge to excellence, innovation, and compassion positions Newark, NJ, not just as a geographic hub for cancer care, but as a beacon of hope for patients and families confronting the challenges of this formidable disease. It is in these halls of healing and support that the city's motto — "Forward, Upward, Onward Together" — resonates most profoundly, illuminating the path for those on the quest for life beyond cancer.

#karp cancer care #cancer care in newark #cancer care in newark nj

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kayleegibsons · 9 days

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Locating OCD Treatment Centers Near Your Area

Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder (OCD) is a mental health condition characterized by intrusive thoughts (obsessions) and repetitive behaviors (compulsions) that individuals feel driven to perform. Seeking treatment at specialized OCD treatment centers can significantly improve outcomes for those affected by this disorder. This guide aims to provide helpful information on how to locate OCD treatment centers in your area, ensuring individuals can access appropriate care tailored to their needs.

Understanding OCD

Before exploring treatment options, it's important to understand the nature of OCD. OCD is a chronic mental health condition that can significantly impact daily life and functioning. Common obsessions include fears of contamination, unwanted thoughts of harm, and excessive concern with order or symmetry. Compulsions often manifest as repetitive behaviors such as washing, checking, or counting, aimed at reducing anxiety or preventing perceived harm.

Researching Treatment Centers

The first step in locating "ocd treatment near me" centers is conducting research. Utilize online resources such as search engines or mental health directories to identify treatment centers specializing in OCD. Look for centers that have experienced clinicians and offer evidence-based treatments for OCD, such as Exposure and Response Prevention (ERP) therapy.

Specialized Clinics and Hospitals

Many cities have specialized clinics or hospitals that focus on treating OCD and related disorders. These clinics often have multidisciplinary teams comprising psychiatrists, psychologists, therapists, and other mental health professionals trained in OCD treatment. Research local clinics or hospitals that offer specialized OCD programs and inquire about the services they provide.

Referrals from Healthcare Providers

Consulting with healthcare providers can be instrumental in finding appropriate OCD treatment centers. Primary care physicians, psychiatrists, or therapists can offer recommendations based on individual needs and preferences. They may have established relationships with local OCD treatment centers and can facilitate referrals.

Online Directories and Helplines

Online directories and helplines can be valuable resources for locating OCD treatment centers. National or regional mental health organizations often maintain directories of accredited treatment providers. Helplines staffed by trained professionals can provide guidance and referrals to appropriate OCD treatment centers based on geographic location.

Insurance Provider Networks

For individuals with health insurance coverage, contacting the insurance provider directly can help identify OCD treatment centers within the network. Insurance companies typically maintain lists of approved providers, including mental health facilities specializing in OCD treatment. Verify coverage and benefits related to mental health services before scheduling appointments.

Community Mental Health Centers

Community mental health centers may offer comprehensive services for individuals with OCD, including therapy and medication management. These centers are often accessible and affordable, providing care to individuals regardless of insurance status. Research local community mental health centers and inquire about their OCD treatment programs.

University Affiliated Programs

University-affiliated medical centers or psychology departments may have specialized OCD treatment programs conducted by experts in the field. These programs often incorporate research-based interventions and may offer opportunities to participate in clinical trials or innovative treatment approaches. Explore university websites or contact relevant departments for information on OCD treatment options.

Peer Recommendations and Support Groups

Peer recommendations and support groups can provide valuable insights into local OCD treatment centers. Online forums or local support groups for OCD may offer recommendations based on personal experiences with treatment providers. Engaging with peers who have navigated the treatment process can offer valuable perspectives and support.

Conclusion

In conclusion, locating OCD treatment centers near your area involves thorough research and utilizing various resources. Understanding the nature of OCD and identifying specialized treatment options is essential for effective management of the disorder. By researching treatment centers, seeking referrals from healthcare providers, utilizing online directories, contacting insurance providers, exploring community resources, and engaging with peer support, individuals can access appropriate OCD treatment tailored to their needs. Remember, seeking help is an important step towards managing OCD and improving quality of life. With proper treatment and support, individuals can learn to manage symptoms and lead fulfilling lives despite living with OCD.

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rmceducation92 · 21 days

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Tashkent Medical Academy

The Tashkent Medical Academy is in the main city of Uzbekistan. It is a top school that is committed to teaching, researching, and coming up with new ways to improve healthcare. The academy was created to train skilled medical professionals and advance medical science. It has become a leader in the field, renowned for its rigorous academics, top-notch clinical training, and top-notch research. Through education, research, and service, Tashkent Medical Academy continues to shape the future of healthcare with its state-of-the-art facilities, distinguished teachers, and wide range of academic programs.

History and Setting Up

Since it opened in 1919, Tashkent Medical Academy has had a long and interesting past. It was founded so that there would be trained medical staff in the area, and it has grown into one of the most respected medical organizations in Uzbekistan. The academy has stuck to its original values of academic excellence, professionalism, and community service over the years. Through education, study, and clinical practice, it shapes the future of healthcare.

The campus and its buildings

To help with its academic and study work, Tashkent Medical Academy is located on a modern campus with cutting-edge facilities. There are well-equipped lecture halls, labs, and medical simulation centers on campus where students can learn how to do different medical treatments by doing them themselves. The campus of the academy also has green spaces, libraries, student dorms, and sports facilities, all of which make it a good place for students to learn, do study, and grow as people.

Offerings in Academic Programs

Over the course of its undergraduate and graduate studies, Tashkent Medical Academy covers a wide range of topics in the fields of medicine and healthcare. These programs are made to meet foreign standards and get students ready for successful careers in teaching, research, and healthcare practice.

Programs for Freshmen

Undergraduate classes at the academy usually last six years and have a tough curriculum that covers basic medical sciences, clinical medicine, and hands-on training. Students learn a lot about anatomy, physiology, pharmacology, pathology, and other basic medical subjects that prepare them for the difficulties of working in modern healthcare.

Programs for higher school

Tashkent Medical Academy offers postgraduate programs for doctors who want to get more training and specialize in addition to undergraduate degrees. There are master's degrees, doctoral degrees, and residency programs in a wide range of medical specialties. These programs help students get more medical knowledge and find work in specific areas of medicine.

Research and new ideas

Tashkent Medical Academy's goal is to develop medical science and make healthcare better, and research and new ideas are big parts of that. The academy is constantly working to solve important health problems, do ground-breaking research in many areas of medicine, and add to scientific knowledge and new ideas. Its research projects include basic science studies, clinical trials, population studies, and community-based research projects. These are all meant to improve patient care and deal with health problems in the United States and around the world.

The faculty and staff

The Tashkent Medical Academy has a great faculty made up of experienced teachers, doctors, and researchers who are leaders in their areas. The faculty members are committed to giving students a high-quality education, as well as mentorship and advice that will help them grow intellectually and professionally. The academy's academic excellence and status as a center of medical education and scholarship are helped by the faculty's knowledge, hard work, and love for teaching and research.

Being a student

The Tashkent Medical Academy has a lively and rewarding student life that gives students many chances to grow as people, get involved in activities outside of school, and make friends. There are many clubs, societies, and events at the academy that help students to pursue their interests, learn how to be leaders, and make friends that will last a lifetime. The academy also offers support services, counseling, and recreational spaces to help students be healthy and do well in school and in their personal lives.

Meaning in Culture

The Tashkent Medical Academy is a very important part of Tashkent and Uzbekistan's culture. It is a sign of growth, modernization, and educational progress. The academy helps protect and promote Uzbekistan's rich cultural history while also encouraging new ideas and high standards in healthcare education and research. The people who graduate from this school are very important to improving healthcare, making communities healthier, and upholding the ideals of service and professionalism.

Important Alumni

Over the years, Tashkent Medical Academy has turned out many accomplished graduates who have made important impacts to medicine, healthcare, and society as a whole. Health care professionals, researchers, teachers, administrators, and politicians in Uzbekistan and around the world are among its graduates. Their dedication to excellence, honesty, and kindness are in line with the academy's ideals, and they continue to improve people's health and well-being.

Partnering and getting known around the world

Tashkent Medical Academy is known and praised around the world for its academic success, study contributions, and work with other universities around the world. The academy has formed partnerships with some of the world's best universities, research centers, and healthcare groups. These partnerships make it possible for students to exchange ideas, work together on research projects, and work together on education and training projects. These partnerships help the academy's reputation around the world, encourage understanding between cultures, and give students and teachers great chances to work together and connect with people from other countries.

Problems and Hopes for the Future

Like all institutions, Tashkent Medical Academy meets problems like not having enough money or resources and having to change with the times when healthcare needs and technologies change. The academy is ready to face these challenges, though, thanks to its hardworking teachers, driven students, and helpful community. It will be able to keep its goal of providing excellent medical education, research, and service. Tashkent Medical Academy will continue to shape the future of healthcare and make a lasting effect on the health and well-being of people and communities by being open to new ideas, encouraging collaboration, and staying true to its core values.

In conclusion

The Tashkent Medical Academy continues to be a model of excellence in medical education and study, training the next generation of leaders and innovators in health care. By focusing on academic success, new research, and community involvement, the academy continues to advance medical science, improve healthcare, and promote the health and well-being of people and communities in Tashkent, Uzbekistan, and beyond.

FAQs stand for "Frequently Asked Questions." Is the Tashkent Medical Academy recognized?

This school is approved by both the Ministry of Health and the Ministry of Higher and Secondary Specialized Education of the Republic of Uzbekistan. What are the requirements to get into the Tashkent Medical Academy's college programs?

To get in, you usually need a high school diploma or the equivalent, to pass entrance exams, and to meet certain academic and language ability standards. Does the Tashkent Medical Academy give students grants or other forms of financial aid?

Yes, the school does give scholarships, grants, and other forms of financial aid to students who qualify based on factors like academic performance, financial need, and more. What kinds of study does the Tashkent Medical Academy do?

The academy does study in many areas of medicine and health care, such as epidemiology, clinical research, public health, biomedical sciences, and more.

#mbbs in russia #mbbs in china #mbbs in bangladesh #mbbsadmission #mbbs in india #mbbs abroad #mbbs

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