I like to think that Vulcans who come to understand that Humans just can’t try to process emotions the same way as them, it’s just healthiest to let it out in harmless ways, decide that venting and stuff should be taken just as seriously as Vulcan’s meditation time, and will encourage the Humans around them to complain about what’s upsetting them
People who are used to aloof Vulcans who avoid Humans at all cost running into one comforting a Human
“-and then they said my cheesecake was subpar, and they didn’t even bring a dish!!!”
“The purpose of this event was that every participant brings a food item of sorts, correct?”
“Yeah!!”
“And they did not follow this rule while insulting dishes that were brought?”
“Mostly just my dish but yeah >:(“
“How illogical”
“That’s what I’m saying!!!”
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dawg my body is so ready for seeing your human versions of the gang. like the need to draw these sillies is JUST TOO DAMN GREAT--(please don't take this as "OMG HURRY UP", i'm just very excited to see your interpretations!)
well shit now i gotta buckle down on brushing up + improving upon my human scribbling skills, which - meager to begin with - have deteriorated due to Puppet Disease (and i say this with playful exasperation. i've been needing an excuse to Practice and this is a damn good one)
though i will say! i'll be adhering to the ~canon~ human versions we've been gifted via Clown's pokemon au. ofc since we don't know what Howdy, Poppy, Sally, and Eddie look like, i'll have to think of something myself
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i just can't get over how surreal it is to be teaching the holocaust right now to my 4th grade classes who by and large are learning about this for the first time. (i have four jewish kids across three classes, they all have known for years.) for the non-jewish kids, even the ones who already knew a little bit did not know much until we started this unit. and just like every year i teach this, the question that comes up over and over again, the one that is SO triggering for me and so difficult to keep my teacher cool during, is "why didn't they just...?" and they are young, very privileged kids and they are asking it innocently and they ask it when we study slavery and they ask it when they study the trail of tears and they ask it when we study the dust bowl. why didn't the jews just take off their jackets that had the yellow stars on them. why didn't the dust bowl farmers just buy new houses in a different state and move. why didn't the enslaved people just say no. and worse is the kid i got today, the "well, if *I* were a jew during world war two, here's what *I* would have done."
and today i just got really serious with them and said, "i know that you do not mean it in a disrespectful way, but when you say that you could have done something differently that would have led to you surviving when so many others did not, it is offensive to the memory of the millions of people who were killed when they were doing everything they could to survive. i promise you that there is not a single strategy imaginable that was not tried by someone at some point. some of them worked and some people escaped, because they got lucky. other people did the exact same thing and were caught and killed. we also have the benefit today of knowing what was going to happen. they didn't have that. some people did not want to take actions that today we look back on as heroic because they did not want to break the law. they were law-abiding citizens, even when those laws discriminated against them. some people did take actions and escaped when it was still early enough to do so, and others at the time thought they were overreacting and that it wasn't that bad."
every single day i wonder if i'm the one is staying until it's too late to get out. every single day i look around and wonder if i'm only still here because i think others are overreacting. every single day i worry i'm not learning enough from the past.
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my narrator could definitely look more human or even have a full stylized human look but I think he would hate the idea of looking fully human to any extent. even his humanoid form would originally leave such a distaste for him because the feeling of control resides in not being the human, the player, but instead being the narrative. so it’s more of a ‘I would never stoop to being human to any extent because they are weak and powerless things that barely have any agency for themselves’ kind of thinking that only a certain button could break him out of that line of thinking
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Eurylochus deserves more re-interpretation as a tragic hero in his own right. He so often gets described as disloyal and cowardly but honestly can you blame him! Can YOU imagine if Odysseus was YOUR brother-in-law and you constantly have to be like who put this dumbshit in charge as he gets you all hopelessly lost for three years for his hubris. Eurylochus has a wife he wants to return to back home TOO, Odysseus, you aren’t special, and YOU are the one getting US all caught up in YOUR hubris and godly squabbles. We never asked for this, we told you to Shut Up and you did not listen, and now because of YOU we are lost, stuck, starving, dead, and/or turned into pigs.
Like I would be annoyed and mutinous and suspicious of everything and Done with his shit too.
And I think there could be something tragically, defiantly heroic about going “The gods have and will keep continuing to punish us for Odysseus’s mistakes, because he is our king and we are merely collateral damage to the gods in their punishment of him. So why should we do what he says? Why should we do what the gods say? Has piety saved any of us yet? If our choices are to starve to death here, or eat the forbidden sacred cattle of the gods and face the punishment, I would rather get smited than die from piety to gods who would kill me anyway.”
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﹄ ◇ ; @dnangelic left a prayer
i take it you think i'm frightening? // ALSO ONE FROM DARK
⌜◈⌟ ▌ ── "𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮," she retorts, face still burning with embarrassment at the high pitched yelp she'd let out as soon as she'd realized she wasn't alone.
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞! Sneaking up on young ladies all on their lonesome in the dark and then saying such eerie things; who in their right mind would do that? Never mind that she had been trying to sneak up on him. It was still a flagrant display of appallingly bad manners. And she at least had plenty of good reasons for skulking about. Whoever (or perhaps more aptly, whatever) he is, she hadn't been able to get a clear reading of him during her initial qi scanning. She also hasn't been able to contact anyone through the communication array for the past hour, and without any means of requesting more information or backup, she had to be cautious. What could he say for himself? She had every intention of asking, but she was going to do so fully face to face.
𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐒𝐡𝐢 𝐐𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡. Her breath catches. Wings darker than night itself, each feather a slash of poet's ink. Jinwu. The thought drags her gaze from wings to chest, where she almost expects to find a golden arrow protruding from his ribcage. When she finally meets his gaze, a chill skitters down her spine. Those aren't the eyes of a crow. Neither are they the eyes of a human, god, or ghost. Outside, the wind begins to howl.
"𝐀 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲," she admits, giving a polite nod as if trying to help him save face, "but nothing I haven't seen before. You give yourself too much credit, shuai ge."
𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐝. Shadows of tree branches dance across latticed windows. The wan, milky light seeping in past them spotlights various displays and artworks hung upon the opposite wall. The details of each subject have been blurred into a mess of nothingness. "That's far more frightening to me. Someone did something they shouldn't have or touched something they shouldn't have, and now look at this sorry state of affairs. Ugh. And right when I-- wait. Why are you in here, anyway?" She can only think of two reasons a fellow nonhuman would be inside this supposedly cursed estate of an eccentric collector. Her eyes widen. "Forget uncanny-- you're in trouble is what you are!"
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