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senatushq · 1 year

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NAME. Sofia Catalina “Cat” Fernandez AGE & BIRTH DATE. 27 & August 16th, 1995 GENDER & PRONOUNS. Female & She/her SPECIES. Human. OCCUPATION. Student & Waitress FACE CLAIM. Selena Gomez

biography

( tw pregnancy ) Humans are curious creatures. Sofía knew that all too well being raised by a mortal mother and lycan father; her surroundings differed much from her paternal side of the family. Rather than embarking on a journey to the Baltic Sea, she stayed put in Rome temporarily, the location where her parents briefly intertwined, eventually finding her way back to her mother’s native city —- Guadalajara, Mexico. Discussions with her father were sparse mainly due to his commitment as alpha. From a very young age, Sofía became aware that residing in Mexico was for her best interest specifically out of protection as her paternal relatives didn’t want her exposed to unnecessary harm. Sofía remained protected through cordial relationships her father developed with a pack of lycans near Jalisco, Mexico, popularly known information to her mother, but not to her. Each milestone achieved had the eyes of lycans gazed on Sofía. From having bits of lycans as classmates to her mother’s own best friend hitched to one, protection was ensured in any way possible.

Visits to her father during summer breaks always enthralled the young child, though it’s the presence of her older half sibling, Adamo Fernandez, that overwhelmingly captured her interests. The dramatic age difference brought forth a parental instinct infused with sibling love, and given that Sofía birth was a surprise, she cherished the brief yet meaningful time spent with the lycans once a year. On the contrary, in Mexico, her upbringing was relatively quiet. Much of her time was spent attached to the hip of her mother and grandparents doing refined activities. Sofía thoroughly enjoyed baking, swimming in the ocean year round, and even uniform shopping for primary, junior, and secondary school. Enjoyment was found through simplicity.

She also excelled in sports, particularly football, naively hoping to join Mexico women's national football team until a sprained ankle damaged her lifelong goal, pondering elsewhere on how she can establish herself as an adult career-wise. Overall, Sofía’s mother didn’t have to deal with any theatrics raising her due to her ability to conduct herself. Often, words of praise sung through Sofía’s phone line from her father when greedily missing him, reminding the male figure each time, “Te echo de menos”, and him returning, “Yo también te extraño, te va bien en la escuela” —- the most the alpha can echo in Spanish. Her perspective of adulthood changed upon graduating high school at the age of seventeen, loomed with pregnancy. She hadn’t expect it, although it’s fair to say she wasn’t the most responsible hormonal teenager on the streets of Mexico.

Much of the responsibilities lied on her; the pampering, purchasing of clothes, and even doctor appointments were typically attended by only Sofía, her grandmother, and mother. Understandably, her former partner opted to find stability in schooling than parenthood, but a moral obligation to take care of your child shouldn’t slip from that. Sofía felt defeated, attempting not to crumble because of her lack of independent stability, yearning to stay afloat to provide emotional and physical support for her child. Word travelled fast across seas, surprising her father in a pessimistic manner. Although supportive, the alpha expected a little bit more from the teenager, but still prided himself as an abuelo, a role he took significantly. What Sofía failed to realize is that her childhood lover derived from a famed pack in Mexico, raised as a lycan as he was a lycan himself. The undisclosed information didn’t come to light until well after Sofía gave birth, stumped by the inconspicuous behavior of her mother, former partner, and her father. It’s an understatement on how much she struggled over the possibility of primarily raising a lycan as a child, yet Sofía was determined to make things work for the sake of not repeating the same mishaps her mother marginally made.

For the next few years, Sofía juggled through various careers to provide a comfortable living situation with the financial help from her maternal family. All the while, as she reached her mid-twenties, the young adult desired a change in atmosphere to better not just her life but the life of her child, Ángel. Sofîa’s outlook on her future featured her as a nurse, tending to others in the way that she witnessed from care providers as she eased her son into the world. To be an OB/GYN attender boosts her ambitions tremendously. Although she kept heavily in contact with her father upon the birth of Ángel, her relationship with Adamo differed; they solely communicated through written letters and video calls because of their different schedules, a method Sofía slowly grew to despise. To fly back and forth every few months for her child to have a relationship with their uncle is tiresome, she wouldn’t dare place the burden on him, greatly appreciating the communicative effort given.

An opportunity to attend nursing school in Rome gave the brunette hope. With almost all of her years spent with her mother, she inquired about a lengthy stay with Adamo to cohabitate while completing her studies. When his affirmative words expelled, in a hurriedly manner, the human booked a one way ticket to Rome with Ángel without looking back, unaware of the obstacles unlatched in Bel Paese.

personality

+ dependable, openminded, trustworthy – impatient, indecisive, aggressive

played by rain. est. she/her.

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florence-pew · 3 years

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The fact that every single woman in GoT - except Gilly - who gained power over the course of the show only did so by shedding each and every traditionally female attribute she had (romance/tenderness/familial ties/motherhood/etc) tells you all you need to know about how the writers couldn’t write a ‘strong female character’ (gag me) without stripping them of their humanity first

#this is coming from a sansa Stan #I hollered when I saw my girl walking in armor to her throne #but at a distance the move feels...#too easy?#too expected?#sure you can be queen!#but not until you shed every last scrap of humanity and family connection and romance you once wanted #and yes obviously romance is going to be tough even impossible in her situation #but that doesn’t mean that sansa can’t wrestle with this?#be frustrated by it?#even yearn for her once naive simplicity #but no #that’s too complicated for these dudes #slap her in armor! she’ll be alone and stalwart forever!#got #I’m still mad obviously 🙄

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philippmichelreichold · 4 years

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Analog Science Fiction Science Fact is the oldest surviving Science Fiction magazine. As Analog's (then Astounding's) editor, John W. Campbell ushered and nourished the Golden Age of Science Fiction. Campbell insisted on science in Science Fiction. Today, Analog still contains hard science stories and has a regular Science Fact feature. I had not read Analog in years, and am absolutely thrilled with my first issue in far too long. In a world where I feel I would be better off without a television, It's refreshing to find drama and suspense that does not reek of violence, and comedy and humor that is not redolent with obscenity/profanity. At a time when the Discovery Channel has reached new lows in pseudo science, it is encouraging to read science popularizations that are actually based in science. The underlying motif to this issue is doing the right thing. In Buddhist terms-- Right Action. Of course, reasonable beings may disagree as to what Right Action might be in a given situation. And sometimes one learns after the fact that one's action was not the best choice after all.

Rejiggering the Thingamajig by

Eric James Stone

is a

wonderful story

about doing what's right. Never thought I'd read a story where a Buddhist T. rex was the protagonist. Bokeerk is a wonderful character, and her companion for her mission, a sentient gun, is a delight. The gun reminded me of the talking bullets in

Who framed Roger Rabbit

or Yosemite Sam. To get home to her children's imminent hatching, she must follow the Eightfold path. Neptune�s TreasureBy Richard A. Lovett is an AI story. Floyd has an AI living in his head name of Brittney. Reminiscent of the movie

All of Me

, only set in

Neptune

space and without Steve Martin and Lilly Tomlin. Floyd and Brittney have serious personal/autonomy issues. The science of the story is wonderful-- mass drivers and recovery vessels. And space bicycles as well. Also spracht Strattman

Thus Spake the Aliens

by H. G. Stratmann is a story about saving the world, complete with large red Doomsday-cutoff-switch-button. These aliens are in the same business as Clarke's

Others

with a more up close and personal approach. And they are quite implacable about weeding if the need arises. To say the story is rich in allusions to other works would be a vast understatement. The connection between the title of the story and of Richard Strauss's song, widely acclaimed for its use in

2001

, could not be an accident.

The key to the story is a problem that is not often addressed, or more to the point-- it's largely ignored. There is a dead line for establishment of a real presence in space-- the point at which we exhaust cheap, abundant sources of energy. Somewhere before we reach that point is the point where a struggle ensues for control of those energy sources that remain. Whether or not civilization survives that struggle will have little impact on what happens next. No alternative, renewable source will be able to fill the gap that will be left with the depletion of fossil fuels. Nuclear power will remain expensive, dangerous, and will only postpone the collapse. Fusion will remain as elusive as a will-o'-the-wisp for some time. We have gigatons of Hydrogen, but fusion's most

promising process

relies not on Hydrogen but Lithium. Even if a Lithium-to-Tritium plant started working tomorrow, we have no way of foreseeing the consequences of eliminating any particular element from the biosphere and would need to work with highly radioactive Tritium.

Unless Stratman's aliens show up soon to terraform Mars and Venus, and hand us the keys to the secrets of the Universe, tough times are ahead of us. We will have to use less energy per person or reduce the number of people using energy. We would eventually return to subsistence farming with limited manufacturing powered by wind and solar power-- essentially back to the 17th century. Perhaps the answer to the

Fermi-Hart paradox

is that no civilization has been able to solve the energy crisis and overcome the energy gap. (It takes a huge amount of energy to go from planet to planet. Witness the huge fuel tanks of the Saturn V's needed to send

Apollo

to the moon.) Even if one used

the Orion nuclear pulse drive

to establish a local system space program, the unavailability of cheap, abundant energy would make it difficult to maintain the necessary level of technology. Once nuclear fuel became the mainstay of the economy, space exploration could be sacrificed as having a lower priority than meeting needs back home. Perhaps we are not the first civilization to see the stars not quite in our grasp and then to watch them slip away forever. The Possession of Paavo Deshin

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

has a profile in this issue of Analog. I'm impressed by the thoroughness of her stories. Rusch builds her characters in a believable and sympathetic manner that leaves me yearning for more.

Possession

is one of her

Retrieval Artist

� stories. Retrieval artists are bounty hunters in a convoluted universe, and Miles Flint is among the very best. Paavo was adopted after his birth parents fled to evade some outstanding alein warrants. But his birth parents have made sure they can keep in touch, naturally.

Paavo's birth parents are Disappeareds-- essentially outlaws in the old sense of the word. Flint is hired by not one but two clients to locate the birth parents. His adoptive parents are well to do, powerful, and tainted by underworld connections. And they adore Paavo as if he were born to them. Maybe more so. Rusch make quite plain her view on the subject of birth parents that re-enter a child's life wreaking havoc as they assert their rights. She equates them with terrorists, while Paavo's adoptive father is in his eyes, regardless of how others see him, the ideal and epitome of fatherhood.

(Uncle Orson review of the Retrieval Artist stories.)

Shame by

Mike Resnick

Lezli Robyn

is a fairly straight forward example of what not to do. Given the colonists's mindset and attitude toward Satan, their actions should not have been unexpected. Perhaps that's the real shame of the story-- that as atrocious as the colonists's appear to the author and to his moral authority figure, given human nature they were unsurprising.

Simple Giftsby

Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

is a story about the stereotypically greedy corporation out to profit on the simplicity's and naivety of the primitive, non tech natives. What could be more innocuous than a race that closely resembles (in appearance) the

Who's of Whoville

. The ethnologist and linguist sent to learn about the alien's language and culture implore the company to slow down on making a deal with the aliens and are disregarded as obstructionists. The outcome is inevitable, but the suspense building makes it all worthwhile. On Rickety Thistlewaite by

Michael F. Flynn

is about the prison that is public service. Making oneself indispensable can be very rewarding and satisfying. Then it becomes an obligation not taken lightly by those who depend on you. As Harry Mudd exclaims to the

Enterprise

command team in

I, Mudd

. . . . A War of StarsDavid L. Clements writes a crisp and interesting story about questioning values and making choices. The concept of intelligence housed in celestial bodies-- the cores of planets and stars-- is reminiscent of

Rogue Star

in the

Star Child Trilogy

by Frederik Pohl and Jack Williamson. I would have hoped though that anyone advanced enough to use stars as weapons would also be advanced enough to not do so. Perhaps I'm just excessively naive.

Copyleft of my material

Essentially, my work is Creative Commons Attribution-Required, Share Alike.

Adapted from their Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0) license summary--

You may Share-- copy and redistribute the material in any medium or format Adapt-- remix, transform, and build upon the material for any purpose, even commercially. I cannot revoke these freedoms as long as you follow the license terms. Attribution-- You must give appropriate credit, provide a link to the license, and indicate if changes were made. You may do so in any reasonable manner, but not in any way that suggests that I endorse you or your use. No additional restrictions-- You may not apply legal terms or technological measures that restrict others from doing anything the license permits.

Providing a link to my source document should suffice in attributing me. Where any condition(s) I place conflicts with the

Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0) license, my condition(s) shall prevail.

ISFDB unless otherwise indicated and are copyrighted unless otherwise indicated.

Copyrighted images are presented here under fair use. You would need to contact the copyright holder to use them. They are not covered by my creative commons licensing.

Coverart from ISFDB for Analog 2010 Jan-Feb

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funkymbtifiction · 6 years

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The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society: Juliet Ashdon [ISFP]

OFFICIAL TYPING by Charity / The Mod SPOILERS

Functional Order: Fi-Se-Ni-Fe

Judging Functional Axis:

Introverted Feeling (Fi) / Extroverted Thinking (Te)

Juliet comes alive when among like-minded people; she is tired of her life and has become somewhat apathetic about her writing, until Dawsey writes her from Guernsey – and she senses that he’s someone who “understands” her even though they have not yet met. So she rushes there, to find a sense of like-minded people and soon makes friends with the literary society. She does not easily open up and talk about her feelings for others – she waits for Dawsey to make the first move (even though she expresses her yearning in her questions and her eyes), and she hesitates before breaking up with Mark, once she realizes he’s not going to make her happy. Her inferior Te can be driven to excel, collecting information, solving the mystery of what befell Elizabeth, and ultimately writing her book.

Perceiving Functional Axis:

Extroverted Sensing (Se) / Introverted Intuition (Ni)

She’s opportunistic and risk-taking; her editor tells her he has seen her “go after what she wants,” even when it was dangerous (snatching up her father’s paperweight before the floor collapsed) and so he has confidence she can tackle the difficulties of life. Juliet drops everything on her schedule to flee to Guernsey and live a different life; she abandons her London residence to move there, once she realizes a life of simplicity among like-minded souls is what her heart craves. She sometimes references deep personal meanings and symbolism (“Do you ever feel like you belong to someone you haven’t met yet?”) but largely does not put pieces together herself, and must rely on others to fill in the intuitive blanks for her (she doesn’t speculate on what befell Elizabeth, and rather naively assumes she’ll find her alive).

Hogwarts House: Hufflepuff

Values: hard work, patience, loyalty, and fair play.

Juliet has built up a successful career as a novelist, writing as someone other than herself, and is very driven in her work, but also puts others first, ahead of the “great story,” because she senses how much Elizabeth’s story means to them – it makes her miserable when she cannot write it, because it’s such a terrific tale, but she sacrifices that to serve their greater interests. She admires Dawsey’s ability to raise a child that is not his own, and somewhat envies his simple life.

Enneagram: 3w2 sx/sp

Tritype: 397 The Ambassador [3w2 9w1 7w6]

Juliet is wearing a persona – she chose to write with a different voice other than her own, and it’s only through her experiences with the literary society and in writing her own story that she finds herself and her true voice, and is able to recognize both what she wants and needs in life – which is Dawsey. Though she is hard-working and ambitious, she feels somewhat guilty in showing off her wealth – not wanting to admit how much money she has earned, to flash around her enormous engagement ring on the island among people who have little, or to live in an enormous flat all alone. She spends some of the movie in 9 disintegration – avoiding the unpleasant truths she does not want to face (such as her doubts about marrying Mark) by running away from the problem, and distracting herself with the local mysteries. Her 2 wing makes her eager to help the society in whatever way she can, and hopeful to find a lasting love. Her self-pres is why she doesn’t want to show off – she just is able to work hard.

#the guernsey literary and potato peel pie society #juliet ashdon #official typing #mbti #hufflepuff #isfp #c: isfp #f: isfp #enneagram #c: enneagram #enneagram 3 #3w2 #c: 3w2 #isfp x 3w2 #3w2 sx/sp #sx/sp #397 #isfp 397 #character typing

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abyssmalice · 2 years

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(last brain dump thought about my two favorite dooters aka smol tonia and tol tonia:

i love how, despite both of them having very extreme behaviors and/or ideologies, at the same time - their reactions and thoughts are extremely rooted in some sense of "mundaneness" or "simplicity".

like, smol tonia performs her nonsense as part of a Very convoluted plan with an Absurdly simple aim of going home - to some vague idea of peace and quiet and simplicity. she highly anticipates an extremely ordinary, normal civilian life, even if she has no real idea what that looks like anymore. (and, should she actually get to have that life, she will feel a simmering restlessness all the same.) but even so, she yearns for it.

tol tonia, on the other hand, loves everything, cherishes everything. finds beauty and joy in almost anything and everything. and this has been the case since her distant youth - she was a dutiful sister, a kind daughter, and a loving girl. and that's it. that's all. a simple description for a very, very simple girl who simply loves the world, at the end of the day.

and that's the thing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

once upon a time, at the very very very start, both little tonia and the older tonia were plain, simple, naive and earnest and sweet girls. ordinary girls, mere civilians, mundane individuals in a comparatively extraordinary world. and then, the two were thrust into circumstances that stripped them of their simplicity, of their rather basic backgrounds as unrelated and uninvolved, of having or being nothing extremely absurd or exceptional by general standards.

now the two of them are far from ordinary, far from normal. far from being the average person in some tiny village.

and yet, that's their origins........ and in a way, that origin remains with them. in their simple desires, in their simple ways of seeing and reacting to the world. in little tonia's simple goal of living a simple life. in the elder tonia's simple personality that just loves the world in the most simple way there is.

the two of them are so over the top, but in essence, they are so simple, almost normal. Almost.)

(bonus: this is a fun thought bc i think it pairs v nicely with how i view childe's design; to me, his physical appearance is Extremely normal-looking. he only looks dramatic bc of his eyes but also, to a great extent, his uniform. like take the clothes away and i think he really could pass off for an average guy in the countryside, just as his background states.)

#headcanons | (without love it cannot be seen);#headcanons | (there is no love lost here but me);

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anundertaleoftwosisters · 7 years

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Chapter 15: The Simplicity of Pretending

This chapter has actually been completed for quite some time now, but we held onto it hoping to add more. Instead, we've decided we are going to add two additional chapters to the story.

Also, from these sisters to you, Happy National Siblings Day!

Summary: Time is passing, things are becoming normal again. However, there is a certain unease in accepting things as they are.

Links: [PREVIOUS] [NEXT] [AO3]

Everyone had fallen into a pattern where time became irrelevant. A week had passed. Then another. Then maybe another, but Aly couldn’t be sure of the exact day anymore. What she did know was that, little by little, life was moving forward again. The bruises were lighter, the scars were fading, and her hands had finally stopped shaking.

Mimi had grown complacent, as if she were already forgetting. And Sans was there to replace the trauma with new memories that reminded her what it was like to smile again. Aly could see the two of them growing closer; the way Sans stared at her, or the way Mimi would shyly graze her skin against his bones. Sans was there for her when Aly couldn’t be.

In the days that went by, Papyrus tried to help Aly in the same ways. However, it was impossible to focus on anything but the extra voice echoing across the reverberations of her own words. She dreamt almost every night now. Sometimes they were residual memories, sometimes nightmares. Mimi had even caught Aly’s hands signing in Gaster’s strange language on some nights. However, Aly could tell that there was a reluctance that stopped Mimi from asking about it any further. Regardless of how hard they tried, the tension between them had not completely subsided.

Aly dreamt of his son - sons - and woke up to face them every day; Sans and Papyrus. Why wasn’t that obvious to her before...? Gaster rarely answered her questions about them, so she had learned to stop asking.

She dreamt of parallel universes where everything was the same, but little details weren’t quite right. Sometimes they were nightmares in which Mimi had taken her place.

She dreamt of lives she had never lived - including Gaster’s. The brilliant Royal Scientist that had put science above all else. Eventually he had lost everything to it, too.

...And she was starting to feel bad for him.

Aly watched her dreams as if they were a television show. The more she saw, the more she found herself on his side. She wanted him to succeed. The good intentions were there, but had simply been lost somewhere along the way.

Her soul was almost yearning for these times that she hadn’t actually lived through - a feeling of nostalgia or fleeting deja vu that made her heart ache. Sometimes she would catch glimpses of her parents in these borrowed memories. Unfortunately, there was no easy way to explain these occurrences to Mimi, as much as she longed to share them. So Aly kept them stowed away in the back of her mind, locked tight in her own memories that she was just grateful to now have of them.

Though, these weren’t the only things that plagued her recently.

Aly, seated at the edge of Papyrus’ bed that she had hijacked for herself over the last couple of weeks, flipped through her father’s worn black journal that Gaster had given her. She had read every page multiple times, so much so that the edges of the paper were beginning to fray; the bindings on the book’s spine slowly coming undone.

Part of her still naively hoped that there was an answer within these pages - an answer to anything. But the entries ended just as abruptly as their parents’ existence.

Don’t look for us, the last entry read. It was in her mother’s handwriting, scrawled haphazardly on the same page that detailed their own experiments in soul fusion. Don’t look for W.D. Gaster. You girls will have each other, and that will be enough.

But it was becoming more and more apparent to Aly that it was no longer enough. These pages had been rendered useless now that she had discovered their last message too late.

She unfolded a loose slip of paper tucked in the journal with rough sketches of her parents’ altered extraction machine. She looked at it often, but not too often as to alert Gaster to the fact that she used to wonder if creating another could be used against him. Though he had nothing to worry about now; Aly thought about it less and less with each passing day, surrendering to the impossibility that it would be successful.

Your mother and father were brilliant scientists, Gaster chimed in regardless. I don’t believe any of the Underground would have gotten by in those pivotal years without them.

“Didn’t get them very far,” Aly scoffed.

Perhaps not, but it brought you here. And I am forever grateful for that.

Grateful? That wasn’t a sentiment she knew Gaster to be capable of. It didn’t fit the rest of his disposition, like the wrong piece of a puzzle forced into an incorrect spot.

“I’m glad one of us has benefited from this.”

Gaster was silent for a moment. His responses to Aly’s inherent sarcasm were always the same, so perhaps he was simply trying to find an alternative way to phrase it now.

To Aly’s surprise, he changed the subject completely. Tell me, do you feel any different since that night at the lab?

“What?”

That night, Gaster pressed. Describe to me how it felt when you killed her.

It took a while for Aly’s mind to escape that night. She remembered how the panic felt as her trembling hands texted rapid messages from Alphys’ phone.

Sending Aly your way, she messaged to Sans in Alphys’ stead. Couldn’t find anything of importance during the exam. Everyone is expecting me back soon, so I’ll see you guys when you get back.

She even tried to message Undyne in order to cover all the bases - not that cellular signal to the Surface carried far enough. Regardless, it seemed to have bought her time. Just how much, she couldn’t be sure.

“It… it was unbearable,” Aly’s voice cracked as she answered Gaster. It was a sensation that she had never felt before; something deep in the pit of her soul that knotted her entire chest. “It was almost like suddenly forgetting how to breathe.”

“It gets easier after the first one.” Those were Gaster’s words right after Aly had watched Alphys turn to dust before her eyes. Easier, he said. Easier to watch someone die, or easier to be the hand that killed them?

Turns out... it was both.

The panic lingered through several sleepless nights after Aly had arrived back in Snowdin, reunited with Mimi and the brothers. In the first several hours back, she was determined to somehow gain the control to reset in order to save Alphys from that night, silently running through ideas in her mind about how to take that power from Gaster.

However, it was just as he said. It was getting easier - easier to detach herself. Easier to let Alphys go.

Easier to let herself go.

With Gaster’s guidance on how to deal with the weight of guilt and against what remained of her own moral fiber, Aly had kept herself… busy.

It was harmless at first. Moldsmals in the forest, with no concept of life or death. Aly reminded herself that it was like squashing insects on the surface. However, it began to escalate. Her soul was feeding off of her apathy. Taking the souls of monsters was quelling it; making it feel normal again. Surely there was a scientific explanation behind it that she simply did not understand. But Gaster was confident in it, and it was working. So Aly owed it to Gaster to trust him with at least this much.

My team and I spent a great deal of time researching the adverse effects of Determination in the humans that fell here before their deaths. It was a limited sample size, but there were indeed some patterns worth noting. Most who fell were innocent. However, some of them…

“What are you trying to say…?”

Do you still feel bad about what happened to Alphys? Gaster derailed her once again.

Aly nodded. Of course she still felt guilty. Even though monster deaths were much less jarring than she expected, it was still in her human nature to feel accountable for the choices she made that night.

However, time had begun to heal that wound faster than she could comprehend.

“I do, but… but I feel like I can live with it.” It was as if she could justify it now. After all, she was still here, Mimi was still safe, and they were both stronger for it.

What about killing those creatures in the forest?

“It’s… easier now.” Aly grimaced. Why was she admitting these things?

“Does that make me a bad person…?”

Of course not, my dear.

...How could it not?

This new soul is evolving; finally adapting to its host. And with each soul you take, we, too, become more in sync . How does that feel?

That arbitrary question had been following her for so long. The more Gaster asked it, the more Aly could nearly convince herself that he cared.

It was different now. Aly had time to accept that they were one in the same; her soul was his. His language, his memories, his knowledge had all become hers. And the more she could detach herself from her own emotions, the more she could understand his.

“It feels right.”

Don’t you see what you’ve gained, Aly? It goes beyond sheer strength. You can finally preserve the lost memories of your parents. You’ve given Mimi the happiness of company she’s lacked. Your entire journey up to this point has had purpose.

Purpose. He was right, wasn’t he?

The understanding must have been hard-pressed into her expression. I knew we could make this work. You see the value in our arrangement now too, don’t you?

As much as it pained Aly to admit it, she did. But how was she supposed to submit to this truth when she had spent so much of her energy up to this point fighting it?

“If this is how it’s going to be from now on, then I suppose I never had the choice, did I?”

You still have a choice. Need I remind you that machines can be restored? Aly could feel the tips of her fingertips tingle against her parents’ blueprints from Gaster’s warning. It’s either you, or… someone else.

“No,” Aly said firmly, with a confidence that had been missing before. “We’re passed that, I promise. I choose this.”

I need to know for sure, Gaster crowed. Prove it to me.

***

Mimi set four plates on the kitchen table, evenly spaced and delicately decorated with four sets of silverware. Meanwhile, Papyrus tended to multiple pots and pans simmering on the stove behind her.

“It smells delicious, Paps!” she called out, straightening every piece to obsessive perfection.

“It’s a very special day, right?” Papyrus replied.

Mimi nodded, a smile gently gracing her lips. “To think, we’ve lost track of time so much lately, I nearly forgot about it. I’m sure Aly has.”

“Well, surely a breakfast feast like this will remind her!”

Mimi giggled. “If it doesn’t, I don’t know what will.”

As the duo continued meal preparations in the kitchen, Sans appeared in the doorway, led by the invisible scent trails of food.

“This smells like your best work yet, Paps,” he grinned tiredly, with a hint of enthusiasm. “Must be a special occasion.”

“Good morning, Sans!” Mimi jumped up from her task and immediately greeted him in the doorway with a short, yet affectionate embrace.

Sans wrapped one arm around her, accustomed to this level of physical contact now. “Happy birthday, kid.”

Mimi’s heart fluttered under his touch. Her smile couldn’t help but widen.

“Is Aly still asleep?” she asked.

“Probably. Why don’t you go wake her up?” Sans said as he shuffled towards the pot of coffee sitting on the counter.

Mimi nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right back!”

As Mimi ascended the stairs and approached Papyrus’ bedroom door, the muffled sounds of Aly’s whispering voice grew louder. What started as only being able to hear a few words slowly turned into fuller phrases as Mimi took more steps closer.

“...can’t expect me to do that…”

A pause.

“...going to notice…”

Who is she talking to…?

As Mimi’s hand grazed the door, the conversation on the other side ceased.

Strange.

Mimi tapped her knuckles lightly against the worn wood, but didn’t wait for a response before entering. As she stepped in, she spotted Aly sitting at the edge of the bed, fully dressed in one of Papyrus’ cropped shirts that fell loosely over Aly’s torso, his scarf, and a pair of rolled-up jeans. However, she also noticed that Aly was completely alone in the room.

“Morning, sis,” Mimi cooed quietly.

“Hey,” Aly responded even quieter.

“We… weren’t sure if you were awake yet.”

Aly nodded. “Couldn’t really get to sleep last night.”

Mimi swung around the bed and took a place on the edge of it right next to her sister. “Out of excitement for today, I hope!”

“...What?”

Mimi’s little grin faded with the confusion in Aly’s expression. She really didn’t remember.

“You know… that one day that comes around every year?”

It took Aly a second, but her tired eyes widened when she finally put the pieces together.

“I-It’s our birthday.”

“It’s our birthday!” Mimi parroted with cheerful inflection before scooping Aly into a hug. However, Aly did not reciprocate. Mimi tried to ignore it, only squeezing her tighter.

“I… I can’t believe I forgot.”

“Hey, no worries, sis!” Mimi bounced up from the bed and grabbed Aly’s hands to pull her up as well. “I know it’s hard to keep track of the days down here, but we’ve still got all day to celebrate!”

Aly flashed a hesitant smile from behind the scarf loosely wrapped around her neck. “I don’t know, Mimi--”

“You’re not going to mope around by yourself today,” Mimi exclaimed firmly. “We’re going to get out, go into town, and spend some time together.”

“Everyone in town hates me.”

“That’s not true!” ...Actually, it was a little true. Some of the townsfolk had expressed their concern about previous events. They continued to bring up the times when Mimi was ill, and Aly’s inability to cope with it. Some noted seeing her alone deep within the forest. Others suggested she would… talk to herself.

None of them new Aly like she did, though. Whatever they thought they were observing just wasn’t true - she was sure of that.

...Mostly sure.

“Not everyone can make friends as easily as you do, Mimi.”

“You made friends all the time,” Mimi reminded her.

“It’s different this time.”

“You don’t give yourself enough credit, Aly.” Mimi turned to face her. “You are the most remarkable human being I have ever known. Life right now is… different. But we’re the same.”

Aly grimaced, but remained silent.

Things had been difficult lately. Aly never completely recovered from whatever she had experienced with Gaster - something of which Mimi still had no answers about. Alphys had left them with inconclusive results, and Aly herself insisted that she was fine. But there was a lingering strain between them since Aly returned to Snowdin that first night; a tension that Mimi couldn’t correctly place. However, she made the conscious effort everyday to move forward. After all, she was happy - Aly deserved the same.

“Papyrus made a killer breakfast, you’re going to love it.” Mimi shook off her reservations once again and forced a smile. “Do you remember when we were kids? All you wanted was breakfast for every meal.”

The memory was met with more silence at first, but there was a breakthrough when Aly let out a single, uneasy chuckle. “And you would pretend to want it too so that mom couldn’t refuse to keep making it.”

Mimi laughed. “I realized very quickly that my love for pancakes didn’t stretch as far as yours.”

For the first time in what felt like ages, Aly laughed. It was small, but it was genuine. However, it faded as quickly as it came.

“...Things were so simple back then.”

“They still can be, Aly.” Mimi took one of Aly’s hands in both of her own. It was stiff, reflecting the rest of her sister’s disposition.

“We could stay here… like this. With Sans and Papyrus. We can go back to the Surface with them and--”

Aly pulled her hand away. “This isn’t our life to live, Mimi.”

“But it could be. We’ve found a home, Aly. A place where we’re welcome, and loved and…” Mimi paused. “And safe.”

She thought that maybe there might have been a better word to describe what she was feeling, since much of this journey into the Underground had not been particularly safe for either of them. But Mimi believed, with all of her soul, that things could change.

“You don’t have to keep pushing us away anymore, or going off on your own, or feeling like you’re struggling with anything alone.”

Aly walked through the doorway of the bedroom and stopped at the edge of the railway.

“I’ll try, Mimi. For you.”

“Hey,” Mimi called to Aly. “To the ends of the earth, right…?”

Aly faltered, opening her mouth to elicit an instinctual response to the phrase. However, nothing came out before she shook her head and descended the stairs.

The meal, while cut short by a call for Papyrus’ assistance in Waterfall, managed to still be more memorable than Mimi could have ever hoped for. The past several birthdays had been spent on the road. Different city, different set of temporary acquaintances as she and Aly continued steadfast on the search for their parents. This was the first year the twins got to celebrate it in the comfort of a home, with people they cared about.

Papyrus had surprised them with a cake alongside all of their favorite breakfast items. Cake for breakfast… just like when they were kids. Sans took credit for the idea as his contribution to their modest celebration.

Mimi’s bright smile didn’t leave at any point during the conversation, and even coaxed out a couple more of those genuine little laughs from her sister.

For the first time, it really felt like they were healing.

After Papyrus’ abrupt exit, Mimi rinsed off the dishware one by one in the sink before handing it to Sans to dry. Aly had volunteered to bring cake to their friends in town - a surprising, yet thoughtful gesture. Mimi figured that maybe one good day was all Aly had been needing this entire time.

“Do you think Aly liked everything?” Mimi turned to Sans and handed him a fistful of silverware.

Sans shrugged nonchalantly. “I think her reaction was as good as we're gonna get.”

Mimi nodded, but quickly realized that Sans’ statement didn’t actually make her feel much better. “She hasn’t opened up to me about anything yet…”

“I think it’s safe to say that she doesn’t plan to, kid.”

Mimi shot him a look. “That’s not true! We tell each other everything. It’s always been like that…”

Sans sighed, taking the next plate from Mimi’s hands and setting it down on the kitchen counter without drying it before turning to her.

“Mimi, do you honestly believe that Aly is the same person she was before you two fell down here?”

“Yes,” Mimi answered without a moment’s hesitation. “She’s my sister. My twin sister. We have a connection that no one else can ever understand.” She pressed a soapy finger against her chest. “I feel her, Sans. In my… in my soul. Like she’s a part of me. Things haven’t been the best between us lately, but… but she’s still Aly. And no matter what you or anyone else says, I know she hasn’t changed.”

Sans’ expression furrowed. The bones of his carpels scratched the rim of his eye socket as he rubbed the area in weary contemplation. He clearly did not agree with Mimi’s response. However, before he could say anything else, Mimi asserted herself again.

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t need your help, Sans…”

Sans let out a surprised scoff. “Trust me kiddo, I’m the last person in this universe and the next that she would take advice from.”

“I know it doesn’t make sense. But you understand what happened to her better than I ever will, Sans. Whatever awful things Gaster put Aly through…” Mimi paused to compose herself. She could barely stand to think about it, let alone coming to the realization that Sans endured much of the same as well. “Her mind is in a place that I can no longer reach. But you can.”

“This is a mistake.” Sans leaned over the counter and buried his face in his hands. “All of this. You girls shouldn’t still be here. Alphys was supposed to take you-- No, you should’ve left a long time ago. We should have taken you back when you were sick.”

Pain hit Mimi’s heart under the weight of Sans’ words. “...And gone where…?”

“Home, Mimi.”

Mimi shuffled over to the kitchen table. She fell into the closest chair, still facing Sans as he stood frozen at the counter. “Do you… do you want to know what I wished for, Sans? For my birthday?”

“I don’t know what you’re--”

“I wished that we could stay here.” Mimi could feel herself fighting back tears now. “With you and Papyrus. And then when you went back to the Surface, I wished that we could stay with you there too. B-Because… Because…”

When she looked up at Sans and saw the flickering lights in his attentive eyes, she couldn’t hold the tears in anymore.

“Don’t you get it? This is home. You are my home.”

Mimi’s sobs were the only thing to fill the deafening silence of the house for much longer than she was comfortable with. No matter how much time she had spent growing closer to Sans, letting her walls come down still left her feeling so vulnerable.

The silence between them lasted an eternity. She needed him to say something. Anything.

“...Alright, kid. I’ll try to talk to Aly tomorrow. For you,” Sans finally replied. “Just… please don’t cry. Don’t let me be the jerk that made a girl cry on her birthday.”

Mimi couldn’t help but hiccup a laugh through her tears. “It’s still one of the best birthdays I’ve ever had.”

Sans ambled to the chair where Mimi was seated and rested his hand on her shoulder. “...I guess the only thing that could make it better is your birthday wish coming true, huh?”

“We don’t have anyone else, Sans...” Mimi sniffled with her face cupped in her hands. “No one but you and Papyrus...”

Mimi didn’t have to look up at him to feel the shift happening through his emotional barriers as well. He normally always acted so aloof, but surprised Mimi with how much he actually gave in to her requests.

“...Paps and I both want you here,” Sans admitted. “If only it could be that simple.”

“It can be.” The heightened sense of deja vu pulled at Mimi’s words. Sans and Aly had much more in common than either of them would admit. She wiped the tears from her eyes and rested her own hand on top of his.

“I already told you before, kid. As long as you’ll keep me around, I’m not… I’m not going anywhere.”

The butterflies returned. If only there were words to describe how much hearing that meant to her. And although she knew no amount of reassurance would ever suffice, Mimi wanted to at least try to return it to Sans. “Good, because neither am I.”

#undertale #undertale au #undertale fanfiction #undertaken #a tale of two sisters #chapter 15 #undertale oc #original characters #gaster #wd gaster #sans #papyrus #national siblings day

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alittletoomeladramatic · 7 years

Text

worthless

Wait stuck with words now....swear before this during work and during the car ride home I had drafted a couple of things to say at the back of my mind, just waiting to get home to shower and settle down to tumblr this. Now i’m just blanked out with what to say first and how should I begin this.

Okay I got this now..

Sometimes things that people say and emotions that i’m going through make me re-think that if over the years I am getting better at living or worst at. It’s always these vulnerable times I yearn to be alone and miss my grandparents a lot and the simplicity of comfort I get if they were still around. They love me as I am and even if I didn’t turned out to be the Golden Child they had hoped for me to be, they never looked down on me.

“OHH that’s good , thank god can pass that’s good” , I mean since young i’ve always knew I wasn’t the brightest child among my sibling and cousins but i’m pretty sure i’m not retarded. Why is it that everyone in the family just look down on me, even after graduating from University achieving the same degree standard as my Cousin and working in a big corporate firm for 2 years NO ONE ever give me praise for that? They just harp on the past and how I was struggling with studies and failing my subjects. No clean slate given to me at all. Just because I wasn’t doing well and went into a neighbourhood high school, play truant once and always going out with friends after school , everyone thinks i’m difficult to handle?! It appalled me sometimes their definition of a black sheep. It’s a lot of pressure and mental stress growing up in this family sometimes, when I meant family I don’t mean direct but the others. When raising a child not only involves the parents but the whole other people. If they knew about the things I did in my life they must probably think I brought shame to the family.

“Nice..nice..nice..nice” i’m tired of this, these four letter words that I keep getting from people. I know it’s meant to be a compliment and a good thing, but to me it’s just like a slap of reality on my face. So what if i’m nice? people take me for granted and still fucked me over. Guys play with me and fucked me over. There are people out there who isn’t nice as me walk on the grass with flowers growing and when I’m walking on it nothing grows. I’m always a step behind everyone else and I honestly don’t know what did I do wrong to deserve all these pain and sufferings. Why am I never enough or worthy for anyone and everyone else out there could easily pick on the street one and instantly find themselves a keeper. I don’t know how many times today I thought of killing myself, while I was cutting the veggies and was holding the knife I thought about how if i should just stab myself right now or when I was driving and I just let loose of the steering wheel and just die. If this could be the end of my misery.

I bet no one knows that behind my mask lives a cynical girl who doesn’t believe she can have happiness or find happiness. She always knew she wasn’t in place for anything good or anyone good , so whenever someone comes along the way she already knew it wouldn’t last but naive and gullible as she is still falls hard and get herself broken anyways. Then everyone else including her friends have it hard on her about her naive-ness , but you know what it’s not anything I can change really. I so tired of hearing that because I fucking know I’m naive and gullible, but you don’t need to make it sound like i’ve committed a crime or something.

I keep going back to shitty fuckboys again and again because I know that’s the best and closest things I could have. As pathetic as this may sound I know that i’ll never get 100% best ever. I never saw myself as anyone worthy or entitled to someone good because life never treated me that way before. As i’m saying this I feel so sad for myself and why i even bother living this life and thriving so hard for a better tomorrow when there never is for me. Always just short lived happiness. Even with studies no matter how hard i try i’ll never get distinction because i’m just this dumb (like how my family sees me).

I’m so tired, I really am. I know i’ve said this so so many times before but right now I feel like i’ve had it with life and I just need everyone else to stfu and leave me alone.

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philippmichelreichold · 3 years

Link

On Analog January/February 2010

Rejiggering the Thingamajig by

Eric James Stone

is a

wonderful story

Who framed Roger Rabbit

All of Me

, only set in

Neptune

Thus Spake the Aliens

by H. G. Stratmann is a story about saving the world, complete with large red Doomsday-cutoff-switch-button. These aliens are in the same business as Clarke's

Others

2001

, could not be an accident.

promising process

Fermi-Hart paradox

Apollo

to the moon.) Even if one used

the Orion nuclear pulse drive

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

has a profile in this issue of Analog. I'm impressed by the thoroughness of her stories. Rusch builds her characters in a believable and sympathetic manner that leaves me yearning for more.

Possession

is one of her

Retrieval Artist

(Uncle Orson review of the Retrieval Artist stories.)

Shame by

Mike Resnick

Lezli Robyn

Simple Giftsby

Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

Who's of Whoville

Michael F. Flynn

Enterprise

command team in

I, Mudd

Rogue Star

in the

Star Child Trilogy

by Frederik Pohl and Jack Williamson. I would have hoped though that anyone advanced enough to use stars as weapons would also be advanced enough to not do so. Perhaps I'm just excessively naive.

Copyleft of my material

Essentially, my work is Creative Commons Attribution-Required, Share Alike.

Adapted from their Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0) license summary--

Providing a link to my source document should suffice in attributing me. Where any condition(s) I place conflicts with the

Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0) license, my condition(s) shall prevail.

ISFDB unless otherwise indicated and are copyrighted unless otherwise indicated.

Copyrighted images are presented here under fair use. You would need to contact the copyright holder to use them. They are not covered by my creative commons licensing.

Coverart from ISFDB for Analog 2010 Jan-Feb

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philippmichelreichold · 5 years

Link

On Analog January/February 2010

Home (190417@1656)

Rejiggering the Thingamajig by

Eric James Stone

is a

wonderful story

Who framed Roger Rabbit

All of Me

, only set in

Neptune

Thus Spake the Aliens

by H. G. Stratmann is a story about saving the world, complete with large red Doomsday-cutoff-switch-button. These aliens are in the same business as Clarke's

Others

2001

, could not be an accident.

promising process

Fermi-Hart paradox

Apollo

to the moon.) Even if one used

the Orion nuclear pulse drive

Kristine Kathryn Rusch

has a profile in this issue of Analog. I'm impressed by the thoroughness of her stories. Rusch builds her characters in a believable and sympathetic manner that leaves me yearning for more.

Possession

is one of her

Retrieval Artist

(Uncle Orson review of the Retrieval Artist stories.)

Shame by

Mike Resnick

Lezli Robyn

Simple Giftsby

Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff

Who's of Whoville

Michael F. Flynn

Enterprise

command team in

I, Mudd

Rogue Star

in the

Star Child Trilogy

by Frederik Pohl and Jack Williamson. I would have hoped though that anyone advanced enough to use stars as weapons would also be advanced enough to not do so. Perhaps I'm just excessively naive.

Copyleft of my material

Essentially, my work is Creative Commons Attribution-Required, Share Alike.

Adapted from their Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0) license summary--

Providing a link to my source document should suffice in attributing me. Where any condition(s) I place conflicts with the

Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0) license, my condition(s) shall prevail.

ISFDB unless otherwise indicated and are copyrighted unless otherwise indicated.

Copyrighted images are presented here under fair use. You would need to contact the copyright holder to use them. They are not covered by my creative commons licensing.

Coverart from ISFDB for Analog 2010 Jan-Feb

1 note · View note

philippmichelreichold · 5 years

Text

@Analog_SF January/February 2010 #review #scifi

On Analog January/February 2010

Home

Rejiggering the Thingamajig

by Eric James Stone is a wonderful story about doing what's right. Never thought I'd read a story where a Buddhist T. rex was the protagonist. Bokeerk is a wonderful character, and her companion for her mission, a sentient gun, is a delight. The gun reminded me of the talking bullets in Who framed Roger Rabbit or Yosemite Sam. To get home to her children's imminent hatching, she must follow the Eightfold path.

Neptune’s Treasure

By Richard A. Lovett is an AI story. Floyd has an AI living in his head name of Brittney. Reminiscent of the movie All of Me, only set in Neptune space and without Steve Martin and Lilly Tomlin. Floyd and Brittney have serious personal/autonomy issues. The science of the story is wonderful-- mass drivers and recovery vessels. And space bicycles as well.

Also spracht Strattman

Thus Spake the Aliens by H. G. Stratmann is a story about saving the world, complete with large red Doomsday-cutoff-switch-button. These aliens are in the same business as Clarke's Others with a more up close and personal approach. And they are quite implacable about weeding if the need arises. To say the story is rich in allusions to other works would be a vast understatement. The connection between the title of the story and of Richard Strauss's song, widely acclaimed for its use in 2001, could not be an accident. The key to the story is a problem that is not often addressed, or more to the point-- it's largely ignored. There is a dead line for establishment of a real presence in space-- the point at which we exhaust cheap, abundant sources of energy. Somewhere before we reach that point is the point where a struggle ensues for control of those energy sources that remain. Whether or not civilization survives that struggle will have little impact on what happens next. No alternative, renewable source will be able to fill the gap that will be left with the depletion of fossil fuels. Nuclear power will remain expensive, dangerous, and will only postpone the collapse. Fusion will remain as elusive as a will-o'-the-wisp for some time. We have gigatons of Hydrogen, but fusion's most promising process relies not on Hydrogen but Lithium. Even if a Lithium-to-Tritium plant started working tomorrow, we have no way of foreseeing the consequences of eliminating any particular element from the biosphere and would need to work with highly radioactive Tritium. Unless Stratman's aliens show up soon to terraform Mars and Venus, and hand us the keys to the secrets of the Universe, tough times are ahead of us. We will have to use less energy per person or reduce the number of people using energy. We would eventually return to subsistence farming with limited manufacturing powered by wind and solar power-- essentially back to the 17th century. Perhaps the answer to the Fermi-Hart paradox is that no civilization has been able to solve the energy crisis and overcome the energy gap. (It takes a huge amount of energy to go from planet to planet. Witness the huge fuel tanks of the Saturn V's needed to send Apollo to the moon.) Even if one used the Orion nuclear pulse drive to establish a local system space program, the unavailability of cheap, abundant energy would make it difficult to maintain the necessary level of technology. Once nuclear fuel became the mainstay of the economy, space exploration could be sacrificed as having a lower priority than meeting needs back home. Perhaps we are not the first civilization to see the stars not quite in our grasp and then to watch them slip away forever.

The Possession of Paavo Deshin

Kristine Kathryn Rusch has a profile in this issue of Analog. I'm impressed by the thoroughness of her stories. Rusch builds her characters in a believable and sympathetic manner that leaves me yearning for more. Possession is one of her Retrieval Artist” stories. Retrieval artists are bounty hunters in a convoluted universe, and Miles Flint is among the very best. Paavo was adopted after his birth parents fled to evade some outstanding alein warrants. But his birth parents have made sure they can keep in touch, naturally. Paavo's birth parents are Disappeareds-- essentially outlaws in the old sense of the word. Flint is hired by not one but two clients to locate the birth parents. His adoptive parents are well to do, powerful, and tainted by underworld connections. And they adore Paavo as if he were born to them. Maybe more so. Rusch make quite plain her view on the subject of birth parents that re-enter a child's life wreaking havoc as they assert their rights. She equates them with terrorists, while Paavo's adoptive father is in his eyes, regardless of how others see him, the ideal and epitome of fatherhood. (Uncle Orson review of the Retrieval Artist stories.)

Shame

by Mike Resnick & Lezli Robyn is a fairly straight forward example of what not to do. Given the colonists's mindset and attitude toward Satan, their actions should not have been unexpected. Perhaps that's the real shame of the story-- that as atrocious as the colonists's appear to the author and to his moral authority figure, given human nature they were unsurprising.

Simple Gifts

by Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff is a story about the stereotypically greedy corporation out to profit on the simplicity's and naivety of the primitive, non tech natives. What could be more innocuous than a race that closely resembles (in appearance) the Who's of Whoville. The ethnologist and linguist sent to learn about the alien's language and culture implore the company to slow down on making a deal with the aliens and are disregarded as obstructionists. The outcome is inevitable, but the suspense building makes it all worthwhile.

On Rickety Thistlewaite by Michael F. Flynn is about the prison that is public service. Making oneself indispensable can be very rewarding and satisfying. Then it becomes an obligation not taken lightly by those who depend on you. As Harry Mudd exclaims to the Enterprise command team in I, Mudd. . . .

A War of Stars

David L. Clements writes a crisp and interesting story about questioning values and making choices. The concept of intelligence housed in celestial bodies-- the cores of planets and stars-- is reminiscent of Rogue Star in the Star Child Trilogy by Frederik Pohl and Jack Williamson. I would have hoped though that anyone advanced enough to use stars as weapons would also be advanced enough to not do so. Perhaps I'm just excessively naive.

Copyleft of my material

Essentially, my work is Creative Commons Attribution-Required, Share Alike. Adapted from their Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0) license summary--

Providing a link to my source document should suffice in attributing me. Where any condition(s) I place conflicts with the Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0) license, my condition(s) shall prevail.

Images used in reviews are from ISFDB unless otherwise indicated and are copyrighted unless otherwise indicated. Copyrighted images are presented here under fair use. You would need to contact the copyright holder to use them. They are not covered by my creative commons licensing. Coverart from ISFDB for Analog 2010 Jan-Feb

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