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#i have to wonder if the rules our current system uses is worth listening to or following if it doesnt have our best interests in mind. u an

kapitaali · 3 years

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The New Hippies

THE NEW HIPPIES: The work abolition movement, anarcho-primitivism and biodynamism as ways to combat climate change

Essay for the course LOGS13b The Strategic Role of Responsibility in Business by Teppo Saari

Introduction

The course LOGS13b The Strategic Role of Responsibility in Business had the students think about and discuss the various ethical dimensions in business, moral dilemmas and choices to be made that a decision maker in business world come across every day.

This essay is motivated by our case study with a headline ’Investors urge European companies to include climate risks in accounts’ (Financial Times 2020). In this essay I will explore values and ethical principles that I see as the solutions to our case study and climate change in general. This is not to say that I could stand up for them in business world. Ironically, my main thread and leitmotif here is the untransformational nature of capitalism and business world. Thus, standing up to the values I will discuss here means doing less business, not more.

This essay is divided in three parts: problem – reaction – solution. These three parts will talk about the chosen values and ethical principles. They are by no means new: pragmatism – The Golden Rule – parsimony & naturality. They just seem to be in conflict with our modern way of living.

Thinking pragmatically about the problem

As part of our course assignment, we got to read about a group of investors managing trillions of dollars worth of assets who urged European companies to include climate risks in their accounts (Financial Times 2020). Scientists have warned us for decades, that pumping extreme amounts of CO2 into our atmosphere will result in melting of the polar ice caps (Mitchell 1989; Jones & Henderson-Sellers 1990), which will raise the sea level and drown some of the coastal cities (Peters & Darling 1985). Finally, capitalists are acting responsibly!

It would seem that capitalists actually cared for the planet and not just their profits. Or would it? Maybe they are scared of losing their future profits, and this kind of media escapade would bring back public trust and confidence in the system. It would be a sign that capitalists can act transparently, openly, accountably, respecting others (O’Leary 1993). But is changing the allocation in your investment portfolio really a sign of empathy? Would there be other ways to better express empathy in business?

Shareholders are interested in the risk their assets are facing, not necessarily in the welfare of the people. Investors acting virtuously can be just virtue-signaling or pleasing other elements in the society to take off media pressure and negative PR from them in a conformist way (Collinson 2003). Maybe they are just greenwashing their own conscience. Why is George Soros’ climate buzz astroturfing industrial complex (Morningstar 2019a) financing Greta Thunberg to do public PR campaigns targeting the youth? Maybe there is money in it. It is unlikely that it would have been dubbed ”A 100 trillion dollar storytelling campaign” without some particularly good reasons (Morningstar 2019b).

But there is something else in it too than just money: power and control. The person who gets to limit choices gets to dictate what kind of choices remain. And if a person has that kind of foreknowledge, then that person can be two steps ahead of us. And being two steps ahead of us means securing future profits. Including climate risks in accounts will imply controls. Controls are imposed on accounts, but ultimately it will mean controls imposed on people and their daily activities. Workers are the ones who will naturally suffer the consequences of management decisions. In this case management decisions are ’urged’ externally, from the owners’ part. After all, it is the corporations that are producing most of the climate change effects, in terms of pollution and greenhouse gases (Griffin 2017). People doing their jobs, working everyday, producing things but also at the same time producing climate effects. I would still love to hear politicians use more terms such as ”pollution” when talking about these issues. For it is unclear how reducing carbon emissions will reduce overall pollution that is also a contributor in the destruction of our environment (see eg. Bodo & Gimah 2020; Oelofse et al. 2007). Issues like microplastics, holes in the ozone layer, biodiversity loss, acid rains and soil degradation need to be talked about just as much, if not more so.

The problem is simple: too much economic activity producing too much climate impact, mostly pollution and greenhouse gases. Solving the Grand Challenge (Konstantinou & Muller 2020) of our time is harder if we wish to keep the fabric of our society intact. There’s a clear need for dialogue among stakeholders (Gardiner 1996), but how is it a dialogue if people are not actually listened to and don’t get to say how things will progress in society? What I am proposing is a meme-like solution that has the greater impact the more people adopt it. My solution is: stop working. Produce less. Stop supporting systems and mechanisms that produce climate effects. Stop supporting the mechanisms that don’t listen to your voice. Disconnect from the Matrix. Working a dayjob is one of these mechanisms. Although many people have realized the benefits of working from home (Kost 2020), a lot more needs to be done. Remote work is not available to everyone. Not all jobs are remote work.

Bob Black (2021) in his texts has advocated for the total and complete abolition of work. Stopping working naturally does not mean stopping doing things, it will merely mean stopping working a job, a concept which itself is a social construct. Black’s theses are simple but powerful. Working is the source of all ills, it is not compatible with ludic life (allthemore so in 2021), it is forced labour and compulsory production, it is replete with indignities called ”discipline”: ”surveillance, rotework, imposed work tempos, production quotas, punching -in and -out, etc”. Black does not only describe the negative ontological aspects of working, he goes deeper and invokes many familiar names of Greek philosophers:

Both Plato and Xenophon attribute to Socrates and obviously share with him an awareness of the destructive effects of work on the worker as a citizen and a human being. Herodotus identified contempt for work as an attribute of the classical Greeks at the zenith of their culture. To take only one Roman example, Cicero said that “whoever gives his labor for money sells himself and puts himself in the rank of slaves.” His candor is now rare, but contemporary primitive societies which we are wont to look down upon have provided spokesmen who have enlightened Western anthropologists. The Kapauku of West Irian, according to Posposil, have a conception of balance in life and accordingly work only every other day, the day of rest designed “to regain the lost power and health.” Our ancestors, even as late as the eighteenth century when they were far along the path to our present predicament, at least were aware of what we have forgotten, the underside of industrialization. Their religious devotion to “St. Monday” — thus establishing a de facto five-day week 150–200 years before its legal consecration — was the despair of the earliest factory owners. They took a long time in submitting to the tyranny of the bell, predecessor of the time clock. In fact it was necessary for a generation or two to replace adult males with women accustomed to obedience and children who could be molded to fit industrial needs. Even the exploited peasants of the ancient regime wrested substantial time back from their landlord’s work. According to Lafargue, a fourth of the French peasants’ calendar was devoted to Sundays and holidays, and Chayanov’s figures from villages in Czarist Russia — hardly a progressive society — likewise show a fourth or fifth of peasants’ days devoted to repose. Controlling for productivity, we are obviously far behind these backward societies. The exploited muzhiks would wonder why any of us are working at all. So should we.

Black notes that only ”a small and diminishing fraction of work serves any useful purpose independent of the defense and reproduction of the work-system and its political and legal appendages”. In similar vein, the late but great David Graeber saw the futility of most work. Calling this phenomenon ’bullshit jobs’ (Graeber 2018), Graeber sets out to describe what many of us are familiar with: we do useless things to make ourselves feel useful. Because modern society legitimizes itself with having people ’do’ stuff and not ’be’ a certain person. How can you (objectively) measure being? You can’t. But doing, that you can measure. This measurement then qualifies you as a member of society: productive, doing your part (an idiom that is a perfect example how you can’t escape the doing paradigm on a societal level). Graeber’s definition of a bullshit job is: if the position were eliminated, it would make no discernible difference in the world. In many cases these types of jobs are found to be supporting some kind of buraucracy, reporting, assisting decision makers, etc. Our current Matrix has its ways of creating more of these with the clever marketing concept called ’value’ (Petrescu 2019). They don’t make a difference, they create value.

Why would you want to overload the world by doing things that you nor most everyone else see no point in? Why would you waste your time doing pointless things? The easy answer to these questions is ’subsistence’. But there are many other ways to live on this planet. If you keep doing what the society tells you is acceptable or convenient, you will shut your eyes from the problem at hand: climate change.

Legitimizing anarcho-naturism as a solution with The Golden Rule

Our responsibility is to ourselves. We can not properly be held responsible for anything else. Yet the system of representational democracy does just this, holds us collectively responsible for many things, borrows money from creditors with our names on the loan collectively and then makes us pay for the loans. The way this Matrix works is yet another reason to disconnect from it. Or at least stop supporting it as much as possible.

The Golden Rule states: ”Treat others as you want to be treated” (Gensler 2013). From the perspective of climate change, it can first seem curious why you would quit your job and head for the hills. After all, we are facing a global issue here. There are people in need for help and I am running away? But I would see it as a way to get around our predicament. The Golden Rule can be also interpreted in Kantian way as the categorical imperative, particularly its first formulation: ”Act only according to that maxim whereby you can at the same time will that it should become a universal law”. This formulation is somewhat more proactive in nature. It talks about acting, doing things, and doing things is what is appreciated in our society, even when your goal is to exit the society.

Why exit the society? Is it enough to just quit your job and find something else to do, something that is more fulfilling and not bullshit? What an excellent question. Long before the advent of smart phones and 5G and DNA-vaccines, this question had been brought up to the table. In the 1800s, people were realizing the negative impact industrialization was having on society at large. People were rooted out from their family homes in the countryside, forced to move to a large city to look for a job, crammed into small apartments with dozens of other workers, coerced into working long and hard days at factories to make a living. The lowly misery of these people attracted the attention of a certain Friedrich Engels, who felt their situation was not adequate to make up for the suffering they had gone through. He meticulously described the working conditions of the English working class in his ”The Condition of the Working Class in England” (2003 [1845]), originally published in German. Sociology as a science was established by Karl Marx, Max Weber and Emile Durkheim to study these changes. Slowly but surely, the influx of people into cities started to cause issues, something that mayors and other municipal representatives had to start taking care of. Planning and zoning were given a lot more attention, since the earlier modus operandi of old European cities had been rather laissez faire (Sutcliffe 1980).

Against this backdrop of massive societal change, people started to question the changes and their direction. Are we really nothing more than slaves, just working in a different environment? Slavery might not be the right word or context here. Many people believe to be free, govern themselves and their property, and yet their daily actions and options to choose from seem to be eerily limited. They have only so many choices, most of which seem somehow related to running their errands. A more appropriate term, with all its connotations, here would be the Greek word ananke, ”force, constraint, necessity”. Like a force of nature, progress towards modernity necessitates that people leave their family homes and go work in large factories, compulsively manufacturing endless amounts of products, some of which are necessary, others merely decorations, and some just pointless.

Many names in 19th century New England worked upon a vision for the future society at a time when unprecedented changes were taking place and the standard of living was rising faster than ever before. The Transcendental Club was a group of New England authors, philosophers, socialists, politicians and intellectuals of the early-to-mid-19th century which gave rise to Transcendentalism, the first notable American intellectual movement. Transcendentalist believe in the inherent goodness of people and nature, but that society and its institutions — particularly organized religion and political parties — corrupt the purity of the individual. (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy 2003; Sacks 2003.) Transcendentalism is a unique mix of European Romanticism, German (particularly Kantian) philosophy, and American Christianity. The impact of this movement can still be seen in the many flavours of American anarchist and radical Christian movements.

Out of the ranks of Transcendentalists rose a couple of names that can be viewed as the progenitors of modern anarcho-primitivism and natur(al)ist anarchy. Ralph Waldo Emerson was the central figure of the Transcendental Club, who together with Henry David Thoreau critiqued the contemporary society for its ”unthinking conformity” and advocated for “an original relation to the universe” (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy 2003). Emerson’s Nature (2009 [1836]) poetically embellishes our view of the natural world, while Thoreau��s Walden; or, Life in the Woods (1995 [1854]) is a call for civil disobedience and revolt against the modern world. Another influential natur(al)ist writer has been Leo Tolstoi whose name is frequently mentioned by anarchists. Tolstoi himself was a Christian and pacifist, and his writings have inspired Christian anarcho-pacifism that views the state as ”immoral and unsupportable because of its connection with military power” (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy 2017).

Before the Transcendentalist movement, Europe experienced similar trend in philosophy with Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s natural philosophy. Rousseau touched upon many subjects: freedom, free will, authority, nature, morality, societal inequality, representation and government. Like Transcendentalists, Rousseau held a belief that human beings are good by nature but are rendered corrupt by society. ”Rousseau clearly states that morality is not a natural feature of human life, so in whatever sense it is that human beings are good by nature, it is not the moral sense that the casual reader would ordinarily assume” (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy 2010). Rousseau’s work is relevant to many of the social movements that currently fight against COVID restrictions, vaccination agenda, building of 5G antenna towers next to where people live, polluting the environment, systemic poverty and general disconnection from the natural world. Rousseau, although regarded as a philosopher, saw philosophy itself negatively, and to him philosophers were ”the post-hoc rationalizers of self-interest, as apologists for various forms of tyranny, and as playing a role in the alienation of the modern individual from humanity’s natural impulse to compassion” (Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy 2010).

Rousseau’s days did not see capitalism as we see it now. It was later Marx (influenced by Hegel, who in turn was influenced by Rousseau) that put together a treatise that considers the societal change we have seen ever since from industrialism and circulation of capital. But Rousseau’s thoughts about the social contract (1968 [1762]), “child-centered” education (Rousseau 2010), and inequality (Graeber & Wengrow 2018; Rousseau 2008) are still relevant today. Especially when we are faced with many societal forces that are contradictory in nature, each of them pushing us into certain direction, demanding our attention, wanting us to change our beliefs about that one particular aspect that connects with other aspects and forms the Matrix of our reality.

We are once again facing a similar situation as the people did back in the days of the first industrial revolution. Now the industrial revolution has reached its fourth cycle, unimaginatively called ”Industry 4.0” (Marr 2018; WEF 2021), where machines are starting to become autonomous and talk to each other. I used to think technology was cool, and went to work for Google. But at Google I learned that technology is not cool, after all. Not until technology becomes completely open source, it will be used by massive conglomerates to build autonomous weapons systems (Cassella 2018; Johnson 2018) and the industry will keep paying ethics researchers to keep writing arguments for them (Charters 2020). Even though I could work for an industry that, given the current trajectory, will be among the biggest producers of CO 2 in the future Vidal 2017), the idea that I would work for an industry that sees weaponizing their products as the grandest idea of mankind’s future is still gnawing.

Because, it is all just business (Huesemann & Huesemann 2011):

One of the functions of critical science is to create awareness of the underlying values, and the political and financial interests which are currently determining the course of science and technology in industrialized society. This exposure of the value-laden character of science and technology is done with the goal of emancipating both people and the environment from domination and exploitation by powerful interests. The ultimate objective is to redirect science and technology to support both ordinary people and the environment, instead of causing suffering through oppression and exploitation by dominant elites. Furthermore, by exposing the myth of the value-neutrality of science and technology, critical science attempts to awaken working scientists and engineers to the social, political, and ethical implications of their work, making it impossible or, at the very least, uncomfortable for them to ignore the wider context and corresponding responsibilities of their professional activities.

It all seems to be connected with state imperialism and the military-industrial(-intelligence) complex. Lenin’s statement (2008 [1916]) equating capitalism with imperialism still prevails this day: ”imperialist wars are absolutely inevitable under such an economic system, as long as private property in the means of production exists”. The conditions change, but the war machine keeps on churning (soon with autonomous weapons!), with wealthy but crooky investors financing projects that are even more dystopian (Byrne 2013). We may remember what president Dwight D. Eisenhower said about the military- industrial complex (NPR 2011):

”In the councils of government, we must guard against the acquisition of unwarranted influence, whether sought or unsought, by the military-industrial complex. The potential for the disastrous rise of misplaced power exists, and will persist.”

It is exactly these kinds of doomsday scenarios that inspire people like Theodore John ”The Unabomber” Kaczynski. Kaczynski, famous for sending mail bombs to various university professors around the US, holds a doctoral degree in mathematics. (Wikipedia 2021.) Kaczynski was bullied as a child, and it has been suggested that he was part of an MKULTRA experiment in college (The Week 2017). Kaczynski did not send his bombs haphazardly. He wrote long theoretical pieces to justify his actions, most of them being thematically anarcho-primitivist. In 1995, after sending several bombs to university personnel and business executives in 1978-1995, he said to ”desist from terrorism” if he got his text published in media outlets.

In his Industrial Society and Its Future (Kaczynski 1995), a 35 thousand word essay published in The Washington Post, which the FBI gave the name ”Unabomber manifesto”, Kaczynski attributes many our societal ills to ”leftism”. In the manifesto Kaczynski details how two psychological tendencies, “feelings of inferiority” and “oversocialization”, form the basis of ”the psychology of modern leftism”. Feelings of inferiority are taken to mean the whole spectrum of negative feelings about self: low self-esteem, feelings of powerlessness, guilt, self-hatred etc. Oversocialization is the process of socialization taken to extreme levels:

24. Psychologists use the term “socialization” to designate the process by which children are trained to think and act as society demands. A person is said to be well socialized if he believes in and obeys the moral code of his society and fits in well as a functioning part of that society. It may seem senseless to say that many leftists are over-socialized, since the leftist is perceived as a rebel. Nevertheless, the position can be defended. Many leftists are not such rebels as they seem.

25. The moral code of our society is so demanding that no one can think, feel and act in a completely moral way. For example, we are not supposed to hate anyone, yet almost everyone hates somebody at some time or other, whether he admits it to himself or not. Some people are so highly socialized that the attempt to think, feel and act morally imposes a severe burden on them. In order to avoid feelings of guilt, they continually have to deceive themselves about their own motives and find moral explanations for feelings and actions that in reality have a nonmoral origin. We use the term “oversocialized” to describe such people.

Kaczynski goes on to describe how this oversocialization causes a person to feel guilt and shame for their actions, especially in the context of performing as society expects them to perform. He writes how this concept of oversocialization is used to determine ”the direction of modern leftism”. Further on, Kaczynski describes how modern man needs goals to strive for, to not run the risk of developing serious psychological problems. This goalsetting activity he denotes ”power process”. But these goals can be real or artificial. Setting a goal is “surrogate activity” if the person devotes much time and energy to attaining it, does not attain it, and still feels seriously deprived. It is just a goal for goalsetting’s sake, the unfulfilled other side of the coin of power process. Kaczynski then connects these concepts to the many societal ills (excessive density of population, isolation of man from nature, excessive rapidity of social change and the breakdown of natural small-scale communities such as the extended family, the village or the tribe) by describing how modern society, with all its marketing and advertising creating artificial needs, disrupts the power process, mankind’s search for itself and meaning-making in life. He sees social hierarchies and the need to climb up them, the ”keeping up with the Joneses”, as surrogate activity.

”Because of the constant pressure that the system exerts to modify human behavior, there is a gradual increase in the number of people who cannot or will not adjust to society’s requirements: welfare leeches, youth gang members, cultists, anti-government rebels, radical environmentalist saboteurs, dropouts and resisters of various kinds”. This gradual increase, then, the system tries to ’solve’ by using propaganda, ”to make people WANT the decisions that have been made for them”. In regards to technology, the ”bad” parts cannot be separated from the ”good”, and thus we are constantly facing the dilemma between technology and freedom, new technology being introduced all the time, and new regulations being introduced to curb the negative effects of the technology and at the same time stripping us of our freedoms. Kaczynski concludes, that revolution is easier than reforming the system.

Later, Kaczynski released another of his anti-technological theses. In Anti-Tech Revolution: Why and How (2015) Kaczynski presents a ”comprehensive historical analysis explaining the futility of social control and the catastrophic influence of technological growth on human social and planetary ecological systems.” This time Kaczynski talks more about how to start an anti-tech movement and how to keep it going. The text reads like a mathemathical proof of sorts, it presents ”rules”, ”propositions” and ”postulates” why the technological system will destroy itself (eg. Russell’s Paradox resulting in chaos in a highly complex, tightly coupled system) and why a successful anti-tech movement needs clear goals to avoid some of the errors revolutionary movements have made, which are elaborated in the book. Violence is not offered as a solution in the book, it is seen more like a mishap of sorts, a suboptimal outcome of a revolutionary movement. But it talks about power. Kaczynski got to learn the hard way how the feeling of powerlessness breeds desperate actions that would have been otherwise unnecessary. The book also talks about climate change and related issues, from a mathematic systems theoretical point of view.

Institutions that are in the business of social engineering and behavioral modification, such as the Tavistock Institute in the UK or the CIA in the US, would have us believe that Kaczynski’s actions were ”defences against anxiety” that can be seen as ”withdrawal, informal organization, reactive individualism and scapegoating” (Hills et al. 2020), and to some extent this is true. But Kaczynski interprets the actions of these institutions stemming from technological progress in our society Kaczynski 1995):

117. In any technologically advanced society the individual’s fate MUST depend on decisions that he personally cannot influence to any great extent. A technological society cannot be broken down into small, autonomous communities, because production depends on the cooperation of very large numbers of people and machines. Such a society MUST be highly organized and decisions HAVE TO be made that affect very large numbers of people.

This uniformity of a large hierarchical modern society then forces its will on people (Kaczynski 1995):

119. The system does not and cannot exist to satisfy human needs. Instead, it is human behavior that has to be modified to fit the needs of the system. This has nothing to do with the political or social ideology that may pretend to guide the technological system. It is not the fault of capitalism and it is not the fault of socialism. It is the fault of technology, because the system is guided not by ideology but by technical necessity.

We have once again encountered ananke, necessity. Now, if we consider ourselves as the lonely decision makers in this society, what could we do? We can try and fight fire with fire, but such fights end up producing only pain and casualties (Taylor 2013). Anarcho-naturists and anarcho-pacifists understand that (unnecessary) fighting in most cases does not work. Sometimes fighting is warranted, but it is beyond the scope of this essay to examine those cases. Sending bombs to people’s offices may get you some attention and even make somebody quote your manifesto in an essay, but it is not solving the issue, something which the Unabomber addressed in his later texts. If working a job indirectly supports the military-industrial complex NewScientist 2011), what good does it do? The military-industrial complex is the biggest source of pollution in the world (The Conversation 2019; Acedo 2015), detaching yourself from this complex is imperative. Even if they would manage to convince us with their psyops that they are willing to change and that climate change is an important issue (Ahmed 2014), it would still be the biggest polluter that is controlling the conversation. It has even been suggested that they are behind this climate buzz (Light 2014). Is your job doing that much good in society that it outweighs the cons? If I need to act responsibly, but cannot fight the system nor conform, while at the same time keeping in mind our looming climate disaster, the only reasonable and peaceful response is to exit the system altogether.

Biodynamism’s naturality and parsimony

Owning responsibility and transforming the world implies taking some kind of action. We have already seen how feelings of powerlessness and lack of self-worth can lead to destructive actions. But there are an unlimited amount of actions that can be taken, that are not based in feelings of powerlessness but empowerment.

Exiting society might sound like a lonely project, and some people might rightfully feel lonely when all their peers still want to live in the illusion. But it does not have to be so. A lot of soul-searching needs to be done, and that is usually done in privacy, focusing upon oneself, but beyond that there are ways how to go off-grid and drastically reduce your carbon emissions.

One of the key concepts that will be our guiding principle here is degrowth (Paulson 2017), which ties into values such as organicity, naturality and parsimony. We will want to have less production of artificial things, and more organic and natural things. By artificial we mean long supply chains and many phases of production with modern high technology that produce a large amount of climate effects. By natural we mean using primitive technology, mostly all-natural or recycled materials and something that can be produced even alone, given enough time. Primitive technology does not exclude electricity, it just means producing it differently.

Rudolf Steiner, Austrian philosopher, social reformer, architect, and theosophist, the founder of Anthroposophy and a great reformer of science in matters of spirit, started the first intentional form of organic farming, known as biodynamic agriculture, after he had given a series of lectures on the topic in the last year of his life. (Paull 2011.) Steiner had many spiritual experiences during his life, which lead him to start the Anthroposophy movement. He wanted to apply the scientific process into spiritual realm, inquiring it as it would be as real as our material world. Inquiring this spiritual world helped him access knowledge he claims to not have been access otherwise (Steiner 2011 [1918]). Anthroposophist self-inquiry can be seen as Foucauldian ”technology of the self” that ”provide an intervention mechanism on the part of active subjects, injecting an element of contingency to everyday encounters and alleviating the determinist effect that technologies of power would have otherwise” (Skinner 2012).

Steiner’s thoughts about agriculture are still relevant (Paull 2011):

In 1924 Steiner commented that, “Nowadays people simply think that a certain amount of nitrogen is needed for plant growth, and they imagine it makes no difference how it’s prepared or where it comes from” Steiner, 1924b, pp.9-10). He made the point that, “In the course of this materialistic age of ours, we’ve lost the knowledge of what it takes to continue to care for the natural world” (Steiner, 1924b, p.10).

Our current system seems to think exactly in this way, that if we just compensate our wreaked havoc by investing in ’green’ technology (Elegant 2019), it will all be ok and rainbows in the sky. But it will not. No one is even double checking if the companies that say that they are now carbon neutral actually proactively try to make our world greener. They can just buy a renewable energy company and say now we are green and do nothing else. Some would argue that going ’carbon neutral’ like these massive corporations are doing it is not the way to do it: “’green’ infrastructures are creating conflict and ecological degradation and are the material expression of climate catastrophe” (Dunlap 2020).

Steinerian biodynamism ”encompasses practices of composting, mixed farming systems with use of animal manures, crop rotations, care for animal welfare, looking at the farm as an organism/entity and local distribution systems, all of which contribute toward the protection of the environment, safeguard biodiversity and improve livelihoods of farmers” (Turinek et al. 2009). While modern biodynamic studies focus on agroecological factors such as nutrient cycles, soil characteristics, and nutritional quality (Reganold 1995; Droogers & Bouma 1996), Steiner himself was quite metaphysical in his lectures and paid attention to details such as kingdoms of nature, planetary influences, biorhythms, incarnated and environmental ethers, and the Zodiac (Steiner 2004 [1958]; Nastati 2009).

By shifting to more natural ways of living, we may help Gaia (Lovelock 1991; Singh 2007) heal in many other ways than just reduce our climate emissions. By realizing that we are actually living on the skin of a fairly large and complex organism, we will stop treating it as a plain source of material resources, and start bonding with it, tune into its consciousness and establish two-way communication, just like the natives have done in America.

The way of the natives ought to be our current way, since there is no reason why the natives could not guard the lands they have before. One of the greatest fears of people speaking for private property rights is that managing resources collectively would mean exhausting them. There is no Tragedy of Commons. Just because you are materially poor does not mean that you are any less competent steward of land and wealth, as proposed by Elinor Oström (2009). Acting for climate is not an investment allocation problem. The natives need their land back so that they could do their best to fight the destruction of our ecosystem. The Outokumpu supply chain in Brazilian rainforests, Elon Musk and Bolivian lithium mines, Papua New Guinea indigenous conflict, mining in Lapland in traditional Sami herding areas, Australian uranium mining in indigenous lands… these are all pointless conflicts.

There are also many other ways of staying grounded and in touch with nature, while at the same time cultivating sovereignty. Many of these things revolve around feeding the most immediate community next to you. They reflect ideas such as mutuality, solidarity, organicity, and naturality. Permaculture is a term coined by David Holmgren to describe ”an approach to land management and philosophy that adopts arrangements observed in flourishing natural ecosystems. It includes a set of design principles derived using whole systems thinking. It uses these principles in fields such as regenerative agriculture, rewilding, and community resilience” (Wikipedia: Permaculture 2021). Permaculture has many branches including ecological design, ecological engineering, regenerative design, environmental design, and construction. It also includes integrated water resources management that develops sustainable architecture, and regenerative and self-maintained habitat and agricultural systems modeled from natural ecosystems (Holmgren Desing Services 2007).

Earthships are 100% sustainable homes that are both energy efficient and modern. Earthsips are built with natural and repurposed (recycled) materials, they heat and cool themselves without electric heat, they use solar energy to power electric appliances, they collect all of their water from rain and snowmelt, they re-use their sewage water to fertilize plants, and there’s an indoor garden that grows food in vertical growing spaces (Reynolds 2021). Ecovillages are a ”human-scale, full-featured settlement, in which human activities are harmlessly integrated into the natural world in a way that is supportive of healthy human development and can be successfully continued into the indefinite future” (Gilman & Gilman 1991).

Clifford Harper had a set of drawings imagining an alternative in his book Radical Technology (Harper & Boyle 1976). In them, he shows many of the ideas that were themes in the German garden city movement in the beginning of 20th century (Bollerey & Hartmann 1980), such as collectivised gardens, autonomous housing estates, and community workshops. The book introduces us ’radical technology’, which spans basically all of the concepts we have discussed up to this point: organic agriculture, biodynamic agriculture, vegetarianism, hydroponics, soft energy, insulation, low-cost housing, tree houses, shanty houses, ’folk-built’ houses using traditional methods, houses built from subsoil, self-built houses, housing associations, solar dwellings, domestic paper-making, carpentry, scrap reclamation, printing, community & pirate radio, collectivised gardens, collective workshops for clothesmaking, shoe repair, pottery, household decoration and repairs, autonomous housing estates, autonomous rural villages, etc.

These concepts, while they seem simple, are still empowering, they are meant to let people enjoy they fruits of their labour. Last but certainly not least is the concept that all of these things fall under, alternative (or, appropriate) technology. Alternative technologies are those ”which offer genuine alternatives to the large-scale, complex, centralized, high-energy life forms which dominate the modern age” (Winner 1979). Alternative technologies seek to solve the problems technocentric thinking has caused in society: technical scale and economic concentration, level of complexity or simplicity best suited to technical operations of various kinds, division of labor and its alleged necessity, social and technical hierarchy as it relates to the design of technological systems, and self-sufficiency and interdependence regarding the lives of individuals and communities. Many of these solutions have been developed in Africa, where problems have had to be solved, but resources have been scarce in actuality.

Appropriate technology holds great promise in ways that are currently underappreciated in our society (Huesemann & Huesemann 2011):

As has been mentioned repeatedly throughout this book, the primary goal of technology in our current economic system is to increase material affluence and to generate profits for the wealthy by controlling and exploiting both people and the environment. In view of the reality of interconnectedness, this is neither environmentally sustainable nor socially desirable. In this chapter we discuss how to design technologies which reflect the values of environmental sustainability and social appropriateness. We also emphasize the importance of heeding the precautionary principle in order to prevent unintended consequences, as well as the need for participatory design in order to ensure greater democratic control of technology. Finally, as a specific example of an environmentally sustainable and socially appropriate technology, we discuss the positive contribution of local, organic, small-scale agriculture.

Conclusion

This essay has presented the reader with ramblings of a person who is familiar with Critical Theory, who would like to build a stronger connection to nature, and who is having a major identity crisis in life. I have expressed, albeit feebly, my will to emancipate myself, to exit the Matrix. In Finnish they would say ”Sota ei yhtä miestä kaipaa”, and in George S. Patton’s words this expression would be ”Hell, they won’t miss me, just one man in thousands.”

In this essay I seem to have extensively quoted the Unabomber manifesto. This is not to say that Kaczynski had exceptionally good motives or justifications for his actions. He killed many people and is in prison now. Kaczynski’s ideas are not unique. Quoting his manifesto serves merely to prove one point: he is the product of his environment. Mental illness is no longer a taboo and things have progressed somewhat since Kaczynski’s days. It could be argued that Kaczynski’s writings were just projection of his own feelings of shame and guilt he had gone through. But his mental condition, should he be diagnosed with one (Amador & Reshmi 2000), does not invalidate the things he’s written. In many ways his writings are now more relevant than ever. When we have tech billionaires talking about inserting neuralinks into your brain and downloading thoughts straight from the headquarters, we can really see the manifesto dots connecting.

I wish it would have been just the mental load caused by a ’surrogate activity’ of keeping up with the Joneses that was the cause of all this, but no, it’s the real deal now. When we have corporate executives and federal commissions defending autonomous weapons systems and saying building such systems is a ’moral imperative’ (Gershgorn 2021), you know we have reached peak civilization. It’s all downhill from now on. All participation in society will support this moral imperative, and I don’t want to have anything to do with it. While many would get back to nature for reasons of convenience, such as better health, Rousseau himself would have gotten back to nature ”to feel God in nature” (LaFreniere 1990). It is this kind of humanist transcendentalism (not transhumanism) that we will need again, to realize what we have done to our planet, to realize what needs to be done to abolish the war machine consuming it, and to make ourselves whole again.

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willownoir1112 · 3 years

Text

Hello you beautiful people of Tumblr! Wyn here with day two of White Rose Week! I am humbled by the wonderful response my day one submission received, and I hope everyone continues to enjoy as we continue onward!

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Rules

No one, not even a Goddess, can ever predict a zombie apocalypse. But, to a well organized, if overly sugared mind, even a plague of brain eating former people can be survived. And if said mind is kept in check by an equally overly caffeinated, blueberry and cute dog adoring brain, well, even an attack by creatures even the Grimm fear due to not being immune may in fact be survivable.

"Listen up!" Ruby Rose roars as she looks about at the gathered survivors of Beacon Academy, which had been hit hard by the initial wave of the undead. They have all gathered inside the auditorium, which has been turned into a small fortress by the group of survivors in their desperation and fear. "My beautiful white wolf and I have been planning for this since second year, and we've come up with some rules that everyone needs to follow if we're going to survive this."

"Rules?!" Cardin Winchester cries out in terror as he sits next to a boarbatusk that is actually trembling in fear. "What good are rules against things that won't die?!"

Weiss Schnee sighs as she looks at him with sympathy for his obviously missing brain, thus making him a hundred percent safe from the rampaging hordes. "Because if we follow this list of simple rules, we will keep ourselves and others safe, you ignoramus. Or do all of you want to end up like Jaune?" She points out.

Every single head, whether it belongs to a Grimm, a human, or a faunus shakes vigorously. The blonde in question having made the mistake of approaching what they all believed to be a sick little girl. To their horror, they all watched in an odd detached fascination as the child proceeded to knock him down and start feasting on his face, while his screams turned into something that was simply not human.

Then the rest of the zombie hordes descended upon them, which is how they all found themselves inside Beacon's auditorium, which was the closest shelter they could safely reach.

"Any other questions?" Ruby calls out, once again getting vigorous headshakes as well as murmured responses in the negative. "Ok, good! Now, let's get started!" She declares as she turns towards a salvaged chalkboard from an otherwise empty storage room and begins to write vigorously. "Rule number one, Cardio! To escape a pursuing zombie you'll need to out-run it, and that means being in good shape!"

"Welp, I'm doomed!" Automne Ombre from team TAPE declares sullenly, his leader, Tyra, nodding in agreement.

"Rennie, I promise Yang and I will take turns carrying you!" Nora Valkyrie declares as she hugs her best friend, who has a look of acceptance for his fate on his face.

Weiss shakes her head. "Ren, you and several others will need to work on your endurance. Or get very good at climbing trees and buildings."

"Arrrr. Roo, ruff ruff." A beowolf barks out next.

"He wants to point out that several Griffons have been turned as well." The Hound declares calmly from where it sits next to Weiss's twin sister Willow, her new Master.

"It was a pleasure to know you all." Ren deadpans seriously as he untangles himself from Nora. But to everyone's surprise, he suddenly strides to Emerald Sustrai and sweeps her off her feet and into a deep kiss.

"Now that's a kiss!" Ruby declares, while Weiss holds up a sign with a number nine on it. Blake holds up an eight, and Yang enthusiastically waves a ten over her head.

"Ahem, can we continue?" Professor Goodwitch calls out, even as she keeps staring nervously at the scroll held in hands threatening to shatter the device if they hold it much more tightly. "Please, Mina. Please answer me." She mutters.

"Fair enough. Ruby, rule number two please?"

"Number does! Double Tap! When in doubt, don't get stingy with your bullets!" The Reaper declares enthusiastically as she brandishes her Crescent Rose above her head.

"As we have all learned now, most zombies won't die from just one hit unless it's a shot to the head, and it will instead get up in very little time - and will then bite you." Weiss continues as the rabbit faunus fawns over her beloved weapon. "The most effective way to prevent this is to take a second shot or a follow up hit to their head which will stop them from attacking again, and surely one more shot can't do too much harm! For this to work, you will need at least two shots in your weapon at all times so you can double tap without having to worry about reloading in time."

You usually won't get that time!" Ruby singsongs before she returns to hugging her sweetheart.

"Luckily, the second shot should be easier as the first shot should take the zombie to the floor and temporarily prevent the zombie from moving." The white wolf finishes before Gibbs slapping her girlfriend. "Stop that, dolt!"

"And just what are you going to do, Weiss?" Blake calls out as she sits next to Ilia, who is staring in fascination at the full sized Drake that has managed to squeeze into the auditorium with them.

"I'm the first tap!" Ruby declares menacingly.

"And I'm the second, Kitten." Weiss follows up coldly.

"I'm convinced." Yang declares firmly as she sits next to Nora, who is watching in surprise as Ren continues to make out with a still surprised Emerald. "So what's the next rule, sis?"

"Limber Up!" She declares enthusiastically. "Before going into a zombie-infested area, you'll need to prepare for the impending running by limbering up."

Cinder Fall, who is sitting next to a shell shocked Pyrrha, holds up her hand. "Hold up! This one doesn't make much sense!"

Dr. Ara Ebony stands while nodding. "I hate to inform you of this, but despite the common notion that stretching prior to exercise reduces the chance of injury, or prepares you for a run, most modern studies point to muscle and tendon stretching exercises prior to engaging in heavy cardio actually reducing performance and increasing the likelihood of muscle, joint, and connective tissue injury." She explains calmly, getting a groan from the Reaper.

"I told you that was a ridiculous rule, Dolt." Weiss adds in agreement.

"Fine! Forget that one!" She sighs as she looks around. "Then let's go with the Buddy System!" She declares as her grin returns. "You can't always look in front of you and behind you at the same time."

"Even though the common zombie has so far proven themselves to be slow they can still surround you and trap you in a corner, so with the help of a buddy you have a better chance of clearing and keeping an area safe." The white wolf explains as she smiles. "There is also another great reason to follow this rule which would be in case you get an injury the assistance of another person can be perfect for this situation."

Velvet stands and looks around. "And, if you don't want to be with people, It's easier using a handgun to your head."

"We have plenty of them stashed in our dorm room!" Coco adds with a cocky smirk.

"How about sharing some then?!" Cardin cries out. "I don't even own a squirt gun!"

"Apologize to my sister, and we'll talk." Sasha Scarlatina, who is in her first year growls out, her own girlfriend Sarah Arc next to her and already counting her ammo.

To everyone's complete and total surprise, the young man walks to the rabbit faunus and falls to his knees in front of her. "I'm sorry." He declares loudly enough to be heard by everyone present. "I'm an asshole, and I honestly don't deserve a single bit of kindness anyone would show me, but I'm not ready to die."

"Apology… accepted." Velvet whispers, getting a nod from Ruby and Coco both. "Admitting you're an ass is the first step."

"Let us continue." The white wolf looks at her dolt, who nods as she steps forward.

"Don't be a hero." Ruby declares sadly, while looking at the sealed off doors to the auditorium. "It's possibly the most important rule of all. Don't risk your own life just to make yourself look good."

"When taking risks in our new reality, there is always the possibility that you might get eaten alive by zombies. This isn't a risk you want to be taking so rather than trying to go for the "bad boy or bad girl look", Yang."

"Hey! Not during all this crap!" The Brawler calls back.

"Just simply take a step back and keep yourself safe. Unfortunately, you won't make yourself look too impressive if a zombie is currently biting into your arm. However, remember that there are certain circumstances where perhaps this rule should be ignored, so that maybe you save someone who makes staying alive worth it, or making sure that you will still have a partner to back you up later - as they might be responsible for saving your life later. Always follow this rule... except when you shouldn't." Weiss stops and smiles at Ruby, who grins back at her.

"I'd definitely break it for you, Snowflake!"

"I know you would, my dolt."

"Blargh!" Nora pantomimes gagging, getting scattered laughter from the gathered survivors.

"Miss Rose, may I add one last rule?" Headmaster Ozpin, who has silently sat next to a shocked into silence Celestia Peach this whole time, calls out.

"Well sure, Headmaster!" Ruby replies while she looks at the instructor with some concern. "And is Professor Peach ok?"

"She will be fine once she gets the image of Jaune being eaten alive out of her head." He replies as he stands and joins them at the podium. Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of coffee before beginning. "Enjoy the little things. As well as surviving all the zombies which obviously will soon be dominating our world, you'll also need to maintain a happy and sane state of mind by keeping positive."

Glynda nods as she joins him, a rare smile on her face as her daughter Silentia sleeps in her arms. "With the constant stress of staying alive with little time to put down your gun and rest, it's important that whenever you do get the time, you spend it on entertaining yourself. Of course, soon it will not be easy to entertain yourself in any extravagant way such as playing games, playing sports or watching trivid. So instead it's best to enjoy the little things that come your way whether that be having fun with another survivor, enjoying a luxury you come across, lying back and forgetting about all the problems in the world or even just destroying a whole bunch of little things. Without enjoying the little things, it's all too easy for you to lose sanity and peace of mind from the constant stress and pains of staying alive."

"We… We really can survive this, can't we?" Velvet murmurs quietly, getting nods from everyone present.

"We sure can, Velvet!" Ruby declares enthusiastically as she loads a fresh magazine into her weapon. "I'm gonna go set up on the roof and clean out the crowd. Maybe we can make it to the cafeteria before we get too hungry."

"I'll come spot for you, Ruby." Blake volunteers as she stands, a nervous Ilia whining as she clings to the panther's hand. "Stay with Weiss, ok?" She asks quietly, getting a nod in response.

"The rest of us need to prepare to reach the cafeteria. We can use tables to barricade the doors and whatnot." Weiss adds as they begin to busy themselves. But one thought runs through all their minds as Weiss gets them prepared and Ruby and several others begin to snipe the undead hordes...

When happened to them to convince them to prepare all these rules?

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

-Two Years Ago, November 1st-

Weiss Schnee has regrets. Serious, unadulterated, never ending regrets. After attending her girlfriend's seventeenth birthday party, then going trick or treating (which was fun no matter how much she denied it), the two of them settled down to watch Dr. Merlot's Halloween Scare-a-Minute zombie movie marathon.

Under normal circumstances, the white wolf and her red rabbit would have laughed their way through the rediculous, often borderline idiotic movies, but this year? Oh no, this year Dr. Merlot upped the horror and gore factors to eleven, then unleashed them on the pair of overly sugared and caffeinated, overly sleep deprived young faunus women, with devastating results.

Daybreak found the two of them huddling in Ruby's old treehouse in abject terror as they clutched their weapons in hands that have gone numb from the pressure. Neither of them dare to sleep, for fear of an undead horror reaching them and eating their precious overly agitated, far past rational thinking brains.

"Ruby?"

"Yeah Weiss?"

"We need a plan." The white wolf points out as she stares at the trap door to the treehouse, which is currently blocked by a pillar of ice created by her when they fled to the safety of the small hide away in the trees.

"A plan?" The rabbit faunus asks nervously, her finger still on Crescent Rose's trigger and terror in her eyes. Her foot long ears are still twitching and swiveling as she strains all four ears to hear the unmistakable noise of a person's skull being cracked open like an egg to create a zombie feast. "Snowflake, it might be too late for a plan."

"Rules then. Rules we can use to stay alive during the hell of the zombie apocalypse." The white wolf declares as she struggles to both hold her weapon as well as keep her eyes open. "Like a rule about a buddy system."

"You're definitely my apocalypse buddy, Snowflake." Ruby declares as one long ear flops down, the Reaper no longer having the energy to keep it held up in the air. "What about cardio?"

"That is important too." Weiss admits with a yawn as her finger slips off of Myrtenaster's trigger. "And perhaps one about double tapping?"

"Uh huh." Ruby replies sleepily as her other ear falls next, her weapon starting to slowly lower itself to the floor. "And stretching. Don't forget stretching…"

"That's a stupid rule…" The white wolf declares with a yawn as her head slowly makes contact with her taller girlfriend's shoulder. "Think we're forgetting one…"

"It's ok…" The red rabbit admits as her head lowers to sit on her girlfriend's. "We'll think of more later…

#white rose week 2021 #white rose #ruby rose #weiss schnee #my writing #source: zombieland #those rules!#humor

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itsthemoofacewriting · 3 years

Text

Drowning in the night

Among us is quite popular at the moment (rightly so) and it’s Halloween, so I was really feeling this. It pushed aside all of my current WIPs in demand to be written.

There’s a lot of similarities with the game, but I did take some artistic liberties, so don’t come at me. If you’ve never played Among us, it might be worth looking up the rules/gameplay before reading- otherwise a lot of things are going to fly straight over your head. The ship is based on the Skeld map to give you a rough layout, but there are some differences.

Title is from ‘Burning Lights’ by The Weeknd, I listened to this a lot when I was writing.

Summary: The ship’s suddenly breaking down and crew members are starting to behave suspiciously. Bonds are about to be tested as suspicion rises of an imposter amongst them. ZoNami. Among us AU. Rating: M- Horror, Blood, Gore

Can also be found on AO3 and FFN.

Enjoy!

Nami’s looking at the charts on the screen in front of her and frowned. The ship’s slightly off course. She’d plotted that just this morning and the weather nodes hadn’t detected anything for concern, there was no reason for the shift. She shrugged it off. Sure this was the first time it’d happened, but this wasn’t the newest ship anymore. She’d check the weather nodes shortly and keep an eye on things.

For now though, she made the adjustments and as she did, she caught Zoro dozing off at the far wall near the door. He’d been hiding away in here for most of the morning and if she hadn’t already known about him dealing with stray asteroids this morning on his watch, she’d be moaning at him about being lazy. Give it another 10 minutes and she still might.

But then she stopped and gave him an assessing look as an idea came to mind. He hadn’t moved for the last 10 minutes, he was probably in a deep sleep by now, and that thought made her hand twitch for the permanent marker that she knew was in her desk drawer. She’s done it before, and it’d been hilarious. He’d walked around the whole day with a moustache and pirate patch without knowing. Some would say it’s mean but she believed it was fair play.

“No,” he said, one eye cracked open to glare at her.

How the hell did he do that?

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She smiled at him far too innocently, hands behind her back, and his other eye opened to properly glare at her.

When it was clear he wasn’t buying what she was selling, she huffed and turned around to get back to her task and Zoro readjusted to get comfortable again as he let his eyes slip shut.

Nami and Zoro had been travelling together for years, along with Luffy, Usopp and Sanji. Only recently had they been joined by Chopper, Robin, Franky and Brook. In all honesty, Nami wasn’t sure how they coped without them. Running a ship was difficult at the best of times and before, they’d been doing with only five people and no mechanic- Usopp could only do so much. Franky had blanched when he’d seen the state of the ship.

She’d just finished her adjustments when the communicator in her ear suddenly started to screech and it’s so deafeningly loud there’s a moment where she can’t do anything other than clutch at her helmet. From the corner of her eye she can see Zoro having the same reaction, no longer snoozing against the wall.

In the next moment she’s trying to tear off her helmet, except she can’t get the final clip to undo at the back and the more desperate she was becoming, the harder it was to do. Her eardrums felt like they were about to burst any second and there’s tears collecting in her eyes from the pain.

But then it’s over. There’s another pair of hands pushing hers away and smoothly unclipping the helmet. Not a moment later and she’s clawing out the earpieces to throw them across the room. There’s still ringing in her ears but it’s fading quickly now there’s silence.

“You alright?” Zoro’s voice is rough, no doubt from his abrupt wake up call. He’s looking down at her with concern, like it hadn’t just happened to him too and his thumb is wiping the stray tear that fell.

It’s a soft gesture, especially for him, and it’s like it suddenly dawned on him what he’s done. He coughed, face flushing and took a step back, avoiding eye contact. Nami smiled to herself, he was doing more and more things like this lately and it was becoming more apparent why with each passing day.

In the early days of the crew, Zoro and Nami had spent their days viciously arguing with each other and if it hadn’t been for Luffy gluing them together back then, she wondered if they’d still be travelling together now. Their arguing had ceased as time had passed and they’d got to know one another. Now they bickered instead and it’s harmless, even if they do anger the other occasionally give it half an hour and they’re back to normal. It was easy for Nami to call Zoro one of her best friends. Because he is. He understood her and although it worked against her sometimes, she’d have it no other way.

But lately. Lately things had shifted. She couldn’t put her finger on it. More time spent together and soft looks that he thinks she doesn’t see. Yet, it’s hard to tell with Zoro. He doesn’t do anything overly romantic and as for flirting, she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him do it. He doesn’t seem like the type and that’s fine, but it made it hard to be sure. Maybe he just viewed her as a friend, or worse, as a sister. She knew that Luffy did.

When Nami nodded in response to his question, it should be awkward, Zoro still refusing to look directly as her and her cheeks were warm from his gentle touch, but the communicators were still screeching, and it could be heard from across the room. Frowning, Nami walked over to pick them up. It’s the first time it’s ever happened in all her time on board and paired with the drifting ship, she can’t help the suspicion that’s brewing.

Maybe their ship had seen it’s best already- a thought that Nami didn’t want to entertain too much. There were so many memories on this ship.

There’s a commotion outside that halted her thoughts, feet thumping through the long corridors and voices calling out to Franky. Zoro’s nodding to her then, gesturing towards the door that they should also go.

Unfortunately, Zoro took the lead.

“How many times do I have to tell you? It’s right out of navigation to get to the cafeteria!”

Zoro turned on his heel and stomped past Nami, face flushed in embarrassment. “I’ve gone that way before,” is his only defence.

Nami rolled her eyes. “You can go that way, but it takes twice as long and, knowing you, you’ll end up taking another wrong turn and do a whole lap around the ship.”

Based on his silence, that is what he’s done before.

She truly wondered about her sanity sometimes, falling for a guy that has no sense of direction. An idiot.

They’re the last ones to arrive when Franky’s explaining the issue. Something about a system that’s probably fried, although he doesn’t understand why it’s happened yet. Just that he’ll investigate and get back to them and that sounded reasonable enough to everyone as they nodded along. Franky collected their earpieces.

“Back to shouting then,” Nami sighed, imagining the chaos and noise this’ll bring. Luffy on the other hand is thrilled, and everyone knows he’ll spend the rest of the day running around the ship.

They’re breaking apart after that, back to their previous activities, and Sanji’s shouting after them about lunch being soon, which immediately stopped Luffy from leaving to tail Sanji back to the kitchen instead.

“I need to check the weather nodes, our course altered for some reason and I need to make sure they’re performing. If they’re not, I can’t anticipate any weather patterns that’d affect the ship’s course,” Nami explained as they walked back to navigation. Although as soon as she did, she realised she’s discussing this with Zoro, of all people. He’s never understood any of this and she’s sure it just goes in one ear and out the other.

Nevertheless, he nodded and wisely kept his mouth shut. At least he understood she’d need someone with her to do that. It wasn’t wise to step outside alone; there were old wives’ tales of people going missing when they went outside the ship alone.

“After lunch. The cook’s bitching at me about cleaning the garbage shoot.” Despite his words, he still settled back down into his previous spot by the door and she knew there’d be an argument kicking off soon if he didn’t move himself.

Before she could tell him as much, the lights above them flickered and there were voices throughout the ship shouting “Usopp” and “electrical”. Usopp could be heard loudly groaning in response and his feet dragging through the ship.

Zoro grunted his goodbye shortly afterwards and Nami shouted “turn right”, but it was too late. He was gone and she knew him well enough to know he’d turned left instead. Idiot.

Nami was typing away at the screen, downloading this morning’s data and making a note to head over to admin to do it there as well. If she didn’t, it was unlikely anyone else would. Although Robin might, she had been known to do it occasionally. That woman was a blessing. Nami honestly didn’t know how she’d survived all this time with those idiots, even if they were her idiots, they drove her insane at times with their laid-back attitudes.

She’s still downloaded data when she suddenly heard a rumbling sound behind her, far too close for comfort, and she jumped, turning as she did but nothing was there. It was quiet for a moment and she could feel a cold sweat breaking down her back. It was ridiculous, she’d always felt safe in this ship but there was something about this morning that was getting to her and she’d never heard that sound before. It happened again and one of the vents rattled.

Not a second later, she was running out of the room, feeling like a spooked child, and swiping her key card to lock the door behind her.

A shiver ran down her spine but before she could do anything else, a blood-curdling scream ripped through the ship. Her head whipped towards the direction and she was running before she could even think it through, she knew that scream anywhere, but she’d never heard him like that before.

“Usopp!”

She was passing through storage when a voice shouted after her. “Nami! What the hell happened?” Zoro asked, catching up to run alongside her.

“No idea. I’m hoping he just electrocuted himself.”

But for all her wishful thinking, Usopp wouldn’t scream like that over something so menial and Zoro must have thought the same as it was written all over his face.

Along the way, they’d picked up Brook and Robin and as they narrowed in on the room, from the opposite direction was Chopper, Sanji, Luffy and Franky.

The door flew open and Sanji was the first to ask, “What the fuck was that?!”

The room looked trashed, wires haphazardly dangling from units or snapped with electricity sparking from them. Usopp was in the middle of the chaos.

“Something grabbed me! It tried to drag me across the room,” Usopp said, his voice shaking and on the verge of hysterical as he sat on the floor hunched over and clutching at his ankle. His face was as white as a sheet.

Despite the state of him, and the room, the crew were aware of Usopp’s rather… theatrical storytelling.

“Sure it wasn’t just a rat? Maybe its tail touched you or something,” Zoro suggested, shrugging his shoulders.

Nami grimaced at that thought but she nodded. “As much as the thought pains me, it probably was a rat. You guys hardly clean very much.” Something she would make a point of nagging them about from now on.

“What’s wrong with your ankle?” Chopper inquired; he’d been quiet thus far but as the ships doctor, he’d noticed Usopp’s odd position.

Usopp cringed as he removed his hands from his ankle and the crew blanched. The yellow of his suit was ripped open and his hands were covered in blood. The skin around his ankle had a deep handprint that cut through the skin. The most disturbing part was the claw marks surrounding the handprint, the skin raw and red around the scratches. Clearly there’d been a struggle.

“Oh shit,” Sanji muttered under his breath, eyes going round.

Because not only was Usopp hurt, but that was a handprint on Usopp’s bloodied ankle.

One that looked very human.

The room suddenly felt far too heavy.

It was then that Luffy spoke. So far he’d been quiet but his frown had only grown. “Cafeteria,” he ordered, his voice firm and a stark contrast from the happy-go-lucky captain they were used to.

“This hardly seems like the time to eat,” Franky trailed off, rubbing the back of his head as his eyes trailed from Usopp to Luffy.

“There’s multiple exit points,” Robin supplied, catching on to what Luffy meant.

That set the mood. Suddenly everyone seemed on edge as the reality of the situation settled. Luffy was being serious. This was serious.

Sanji and Zoro wrapped one of Usopp’s arms around their shoulders and they were hauling him up to follow after Luffy towards the cafeteria. Chopper scuttled after them, saying he’d stop by the medical bay for supplies before meeting them there.

Nami stood there, trying to comprehend just what was going on as everyone filed out.

Robin walking over to touch her lightly on the arm. “If whatever this is was dangerous, it would have killed Usopp on sight without leaving a trace of him,” she reassured.

That at least got Nami out of her stupor and she gaped at her friend in horror. “That’s so dark Robin!”

The atmosphere in the cafeteria was tense, no one had spoken, not even when Chopper had trotted in to start working on Usopp’s ankle.

Sanji broke the silence. “Did you see anything?”

“No.” Usopp shook his head. “One minute I’m elbow deep in wires and the next I’m on the floor being dragged.”

“Full story, go from the start and tell us exactly what happened.”

“Okay, so I’m in the corner because for some reason the wires looked frayed and I thought I heard something but when I turned there was nothing. I turned back to continue but then there’s something grabbing my ankle and pulling me across the floor.” He paused then, his body shaking slightly. “It came from behind and that’s when I screamed. I started kicking and thrashing around, grabbing onto whatever I could and then it just disappeared. It was like nothing was even there in the first place.”

“Where was it dragging you?” Nami asked. She had a hunch.

“It didn’t get very far but I think it was towards the opposite corner.”

“Where the vent is?” She could feel dread filling her… surely not?

“Yeah!”

The crews gaze swivelled on Nami then, waiting for her to explain why she would guess something like that.

“There were weird sounds in navigation and the vents were rattling just a few minutes before you screamed but I ran as soon as I heard it.” She shivered at the thought, that could have been her.

“You think it came through the vents!?” Chopper squeaked, there was vents in the med bay too. There were vents in almost every room and that knowledge didn’t settle anyone.

“What the hell is small enough to fit in there and move around so quickly?!”

“Also, the ship’s behaving strangely. It was off course this morning just after I’d plotted it out, then the communicators breaking and then the lights?!” Nami said and with each passing issue she listed, the feeling of dread grew.

“What are you suggesting?” Robin calmly asked.

There was a moment of silence, because this moment was inevitable, and they’d all been trying to delay it. Where someone would have to voice what everyone was starting to think.

That someone in this crew did it.

“Where’s everyone been this morning?” Zoro asked, solemnly.

Everyone’s rattling off their locations and, so far, they’d all been with each other, apart from Usopp. But it’s then that Nami realised, Zoro had left just before it’d happened. He’d left to go and clean the garbage shoot and by the sounds of it, never made it there as Sanji didn’t say anything about seeing him.

“Me and Zoro were in navigation.” Zoro shot her a look and she’s not technically lying but if she gets found out that he had left briefly, it’d looked suspicious as hell. But there’s no way Zoro did this, one of the foundations of this crew along with her and Luffy, their longest standing member, their second in command, and she’s not about to have people pointing fingers at him.

Zoro’s shooting her looks that she decided to ignore but he doesn’t challenge her. If he did now, not only would he put himself under suspicion, but it’d also take her down with him. It’s the last thing either of them needed.

“Then something else must be on the ship,” Sanji offered, unwilling to point any fingers.

“How? We’ve been travelling for weeks and it picks now? Sounds too sophisticated for something that’s not human and how’s it not been spotted? It’s gone around undetected all this time?” Zoro questioned.

“So what? You’re suggesting it’s one of us? The vents are too small!”

“Unless someone in this room isn’t who they say they are,” Zoro continued and although he was off to the side, he had the attention of the whole crew. “The ship suddenly breaking when it’s been fine all this time and getting around undetected. This needs knowledge, something that can be learned by being around us all.”

“There’s rumours about this. They’ve never been confirmed though because ships and their crew disappear without a trace, never to be seen again,” Robin chimed in and it had Nami, Usopp and Chopper looking at her in terror. Franky shook his head next to her.

“That’s old wives’ tales!” Usopp said, but there’s a wobble in his voice that doesn’t make it believable. “Right?”

“Had to come from somewhere and we did just pick up new recruits,” Zoro said and his scrutinising gaze is aimed at Robin, Franky and Brook.

“You better not be suggesting what I think you’re suggesting,” Sanji growled, no doubt sticking up for Robin.

“Coincidental, no?” Zoro’s eyebrow quirked.

“I think everyone needs to calm down,” Brook said, his hands held up to avoid confrontation.

“So you’re accusing Chopper, too right? Because he’s just as new as the rest of them,” Sanji argued, ignoring Brook, to call Zoro out his favouritism. It was no secret that Zoro had taken the young medic under his wing.

They both started arguing and soon enough, the rest of the crew’s chiming in to either argue for one side or try to calm everyone down.

Nami agreed with Brook. They weren’t going to get anywhere sitting around pointing fingers at each other with no proof. “Luffy, say something!”

Her plea to the silent captain cuts through the argument and everyone’s turning towards Luffy for his verdict. He had yet to weigh in on the argument, but now wasn’t a time for silence. They needed their captain to take charge.

“No turning on each other,” is all he instructed, face serious and arms crossed from his position on the table.

“Luffy-” Zoro started, no doubt about to try and talk some sense into him as second in command.

“What if you’re wrong?” Luffy fired back, not letting up and he made a good point. Not even Zoro would forgive himself if he was wrong.

“And if I’m right?”

“Lot of ifs flying about,” Usopp jumped in.

“We’ll deal with that if the time comes.” There’s a finality in Luffy’s voice that said this part of the discussion was over.

“Franky, what are the routes for the vents?” Nami enquired, eager to move away from that topic. They needed to move forward anyway, not in circles. “Maybe we can avoid them until we find… whatever this is.”

Franky sighed, his shoulders slumping, “I connected them all together a few weeks ago… It made more sense for ventilation.”

Nami cringed in response, it’s a bad answer and one that put him on the receiving end of a few sharp looks. Robin rubbed his shoulder consolingly, but it didn’t do much to alleviate the tension in the room. It was like everyone in the room just put him straight into the number one position for most suspicious and he knew it.

Zoro was about to open his mouth but instead of words it was replaced by an angry shrieking of the alarm and red lights suddenly started flashing above their heads.

“What the fuck is that?”

“It’s the reactor!”

“So it can’t be any of us, we’re all here!” Sanji exclaimed, shooting Zoro a sour look as he spoke and Zoro returned the look tenfold.

“Not the time for that!” Nami barked, in no mood to break up a fight right now.

And then the lights cut out and they were in pitch black for a few seconds before the dim of the emergency lights flickered to life. They were far weaker than the main lights and the result was poor visibility- everything would be so much harder to do like this. The intermittent flash of red didn’t do much to help either.

It was just one thing after another.

“Shit, shit, shit!” Nami presumed that was Sanji based on the language and the chair that was just kicked across the room.

“What do we do?”

“I’m going to deal with the reactor.” Franky shouted, already making his way to the door with Robin on his heels. “The lights shouldn’t go off like this unless there’s multiple breaks in the wires, you need to find where the broken wires are, it’s most likely in multiple places.”

He’s almost gone but he stopped at the door when Nami shouted after him, “Franky, did you fix the communicators?”

“Not well but they’ve stopped screeching, it’ll have to do for now.” He quickly grabbed the small devices from his suit pocket, chucking them towards the crew.

And then he was gone.

“Everyone in pairs, do not leave anyone alone and we’ll meet back here after!” Luffy ordered.

Zoro was instantly by Nami’s side and Sanji looked like he was about to argue until Usopp clung to his side, telling him he needed the most protection out of anyone else. Although Sanji bitched at him to get off, Sanji’s face softened as he looked at the younger man.

“Keep Nami safe, Marimo!” He shouted as he ran with Usopp towards electrical.

“Idiot, he needs to worry about himself,” Zoro grumbled, folding his arms.

“Let’s go, we need to find any wires that are frazzled, we’ll start with the right wing.” She explained, taking off towards the exit of the cafeteria with Zoro hot on her heels. “Well… just follow me, you probably don’t even know where that is.”

“Oi! I know my left from right.”

Nami grabbed Zoro’s hand just as they entered the corridors and as much as she told herself it was so that he didn’t get lost, it wasn’t convincing enough to stop the flush from working its way up her face. Especially when Zoro squeezed her hand in response.

“So we don’t get lost,” she supplied.

Zoro snorted in response but for once, didn’t say anything back.

The peace from this morning was long gone and was replaced with thumping footsteps and shouting as the crew descended into chaos, scattered across the huge ship trying to stay alive. At one-point Brook, Chopper and Luffy ran past them and Nami was left shouting after them because it looked like they were running around with no real ambition.

It didn’t take long after that for Nami to find one of the breakages and she was left gaping at it. It looked like it’d been chewed apart, the metal was torn open with sparking wires hanging limply.

“Focus,” Zoro said, nudging her arm. “I’ll cover you, don’t worry.”

In that moment Nami was happy to have him with her. He kept a cool head in dire situations, and she needed that right now. She needed to not think about someone… something, on their crew trying to destroy their ship and kill them all. She took a deep breath in and a deep breath out to centre herself. Fix the wires first and everything else would come second, she told herself.

She clicked the light on the shoulder of her orange suit to illuminate the wires in front of her as her helmet was still clipped around the belt of her suit. No one had put theirs back on since the communicators this morning.

She was making good progress and she only had two wires left to reconnect when both her and Zoro’s attention was stolen by the communication doors closing just a few feet away. What the hell? No one was down this part of the ship.

The hallway suddenly came alive as doors started closing and opening randomly.

“What the fuck is that?”

“Someone’s tampering with the wiring or the controls.” Dread was building in her stomach; it was one thing after another. They were being sent on wild goose-chase after wild goose-chase- a distraction to keep them busy.

A crackling was heard through her communicator and she was struggling to keep up at everyone’s broken words.

“Someone- admin-”

“Not right- still- someone else-”

“I’m- route,” Brook crackled through and by the sounds of it, he’d be dealing with it.

They could hear feet running down the hall close to where they were and that reassured Nami that Brook was close and that the issue would be resolved soon.

Except that reassurance soon disappeared as Nami heard a familiar sound and it made her stomach drop. As quickly as she could, she was reattaching the last wire and stumbling over her words to tell Zoro what was about to happen. “Zoro, it’s the rumbling of the vents, that thing is on the move. Think of a room for us to hide in without a vent so we can go as soon as I’m done.”

Zoro was quiet for a moment and Nami knew how absurd it was to ask that of Zoro, he barely knew the layout… well, he thought he did, but that was an entirely different issue and Nami couldn’t think of everything herself right now. But then his hand was on her arm, ready to pull her as soon as she was ready.

As soon as the last wire was in place, she was almost pulled off her feet as she stumbled to keep up, running past communications as the door was still closed and into the woman’s room next to it.

Zoro pulled out his key card to close the door after them and she felt her patience thinning when he failed on the third attempt. Third!

“How the hell can you still not work your key card after all this time?!” She whispered huffily, pushing him aside to swipe her own key card and watched the door slide shut.

“Shut up, it’s tricky and you know it!”

“Maybe at first! How long have you been here?” Sarcasm dripping from her voice.

A scream ran through the ship afterwards and it sounded like Brook. It didn’t take long for Nami to piece together. He was in admin. There was a vent in there.

Nami choked on her sob.

Suddenly there were hands on her shoulders, and she was looking Zoro in the face as he peered down at her with a stern expression.

“Pull yourself together. Brook’s tough, he won’t go down easily and even if he does, you reacting like this isn’t going to help anyone,” his voice was firm and he squeezed the top of her arms, she presumed in an effort to comfort her. “Besides, you’re with me, don’t insult me.”

He was trying to reassure her and in doing it in his own weird way, it worked. She felt herself relaxing, well, relaxing as much as she could in a situation like this, and Zoro was rewarded with a wobbly smile. She couldn’t help herself as she pulled him in for tight hug, clinging to him as he gave her silent reassurance, and he hugged her back just as tightly. He was so warm, and, in that moment, it made everything feel better.

After a second, she pulled away to look up at him. “Okay, let’s go! There’s more wires to reattach,” she told him, fire back in her eyes and Zoro smiled at the change.

The doors slid back open and Zoro tentatively poked his head out, Nami followed suit, looking down the other end of the hallway. She frowned when she saw a purple suit at the end of the corridor, what the hell was Robin doing by herself?

Nami nudged Zoro to get his attention but just as she was about to call out to her, the middle of her suit split apart into a mangled mouth and a long, black tongue oozed out to lick the wall.

Nami felt the blood drain from her body. What was that thing?!

And was it trying to find them through taste?!

Nami squeaked before Zoro could clamp his and the thing was whipping around to peer down the hallway. Zoro just managed to pull her back in before they could be spotted as the doors slid closed behind them.

“You alright?” Zoro whispered, his hand still covering her mouth and she realised he was making sure she wouldn’t scream. Nami nodded and his hand fell away.

“I fucking knew it. She was fishy from the moment she stepped on board,” Zoro hissed, his expression furious.

“I shared a room with her,” Nami said, except there was no heat behind her words, only sadness. It was silly, Nami didn’t know her, clearly, but Robin had been her friend and she felt like she was mourning the loss of that.

They descended back into silence as footsteps could be heard thumping closer and Zoro’s hand was over Nami’s mouth again when they stopped outside the door- not that it was needed, she’d already stopped breathing. She wondered if it was trying to taste them again and a shiver ran down her spine. It was a long moment before they could hear the footsteps retreat from outside the door, but they still waited until it was gone to sigh in relief.

“I’m calling it in,” Zoro informed quietly and Nami nodded back at him as he clicked the side of his communicator.

“Everyone, it’s Robin! Keep your distance, she’s the imposter! She’s not human.”

Although Nami could hear Zoro saying it, she was in too close a distance to Zoro to be able to hear what the rest of the crew were able to through the communicator. She presumed from what she heard earlier from the others they would have received a jumbled message.

All they got in response was a variation of, “What-,” “-Robin-,” and “-Here-,” and that confirmed her suspicions.

Nami put her hand on Zoro’s arm to get his attention. “It’s no use,” Nami sighed. “We’ll need to find someone else and spread the word. We need to meet back at the cafeteria. We need a plan.”

This situation was looking grimmer by the second.

Nami stood then, determined to put an end to this as she started to make her way to the door but then Zoro stood and caught her elbow.

“Wait a second.”

And she did.

She waited but he still stood there saying nothing as he peered down at her. He looked intense and for once she couldn’t read the look on his face, it was oddly unnerving. She hadn’t had that problem with him for ages. She raised an eyebrow, challenging him to speak but his eyebrows only furrowed further. What the hell was he thinking about? Since when did he think through what he said?

But Zoro was not a man of words, he’s a man of action, so instead he leaned down to press a brief kiss to her cheek, as if that explained everything.

Nami gaped up at him but all he offered in explanation was, “Should’ve told you a while go.”

She’s still trying to get her brain to work, wrap around what he’s just done and said. She managed to string together words after a brief pause. “That you like me?” She asked tentatively.

He’s stubbornly looking at the wall, his ears bright red and he spat a “Yes!” at her.

“But you didn’t?” She had no idea why she asked that, but honestly, she’s not really thinking right now. At this point, the words are tumbling out her of mouth without any real filter. She’s still trying to wrap her head around what’s happening. This is the last thing she expected.

“Did you hear me say any of this sappy shit before?” He’s still looking at the wall but now he’s crossed his arms defensively.

“Well, you’ve barely said anything now, so it’s hard to say.” If he wanted to be a brat about it, she was more than happy to tease him.

He rolled his eyes at her and finally made eye contact, “Fine. I like you. In a romantic way.”

Very romantic when he basically gritted his teeth through the whole thing. Yet she could still feel a blush working across her cheeks. How is this working on her?

“Why now?” She asked, trying to distract from her reaction.

“Better late than never.”

Something about that didn’t still well with her. Why was never even an option right now?

“So you’re backing down on your word?”

He doesn’t say anything but looked down at her in confusion.

“That we’re getting out of this alive,” she explained and waited for him to catch on to what she’s referring to. She can almost see the moment the bulb goes on over his head.

“No. You’re coming out of this alive.”

Her stomach knotted at his words; he didn’t mean…?

“…But you’re not?” She hesitantly asked, did she really want to know the answer to that?

“Don’t know yet,” he muttered.

This should be a happy moment. The infuriatingly annoying guy she’s liked for a while has confessed, but the reality is they’re currently being hunted and there’s no guarantee any of them will come out of this alive.

But she’d be damned if he went down without her, so in her mind it’s either both of them or neither.

And then it hits her, they may not have another moment together like this.

So for once in her life, she stopped thinking and without hesitation grabbed his face to crush his lips against hers. He yelped at the abruptness, but it was soon muffled. She couldn’t stop the amused smile spreading across her lips at his reaction.

It was by no means the most romantic kiss, neither of them had much experience before this and the mood is hardly set by the looming possibility of death, but Nami regretted nothing as they exchanged clumsy kisses. Zoro tentatively settled his hands on her waist, like he was waiting for her to tell him off, but she didn’t, instead she’s slipping her arms around his shoulders to draw herself in closer. They’re only closed-mouth pecks that occasionally linger for longer but that’s okay for right now, they can hardly start a make out session and honestly, Nami’s not prepared for anything more right now, her stomach already feels like it’s going to burst open.

They broke apart shortly afterwards but didn’t move away from each other.

“Idiot, how long?”

“Hah?” He asked stupidly against her lips.

Christ, what an idiot.

“How long have you liked me?” She clarified.

“Probably from the fifth argument, but I didn’t realise until much later. You pissed me off a lot, but I realised I didn’t want anything else.”

That still told her nothing, they squabbled constantly, but yeah, she could relate. It’d just hit her one day too.

“You wasted a lot of time,” she accused.

“You were hardly forthcoming yourself!”

“Forthcoming? That’s a big word for you, trying to woo me?”

“Clearly don’t need to, do I?” His voice was impossibly smug as his arms tightened around her to make his point, and it grated her slightly. “Besides, you’re the navigator, aren’t you the one that’s supposed to be guiding?”

“Arse. I can’t do everything, you know. Navigate, repair wires, open doors for you; you have to pull your weight too,” she countered, her smile broadening as he glowered at her.

He didn’t grace her with a response, but she didn’t mind when he pulled her back into another kiss. It wasn’t as clumsy this time, and that was probably because she wasn’t trying to crush Zoro into her face. It was still just as insistent, but they found their rhythm quickly and mouths were tentatively opening for tongues to brush against each other’s. Distantly, Nami wondered if she’d ever be prepared for something like this. Her hands buried themselves into his hair and she stood on tip toes to get closer.

All of that came to a grinding halt as another siren started going off, alongside the reactor alarm and they pulled apart. Nami flushed when she realised just what they were doing, in the middle of a crisis no less. They were making out in the girl’s room whilst their ship was falling apart and being hunted by Robin. She was mortified and when she looked up at Zoro he looked nothing but smug.

She didn’t feel bad about elbowing him in the ribs.

Their communicators crackled to life and they could hear Franky rushing through his words, “Shit- O2- down- someone- fix-”

“-helmets-”

That was only a few rooms away from them and although she hadn’t said anything, Zoro was nodding his head at her. They were both taking their helmets from the belts to put them on but Nami stopped Zoro before he could put if over his head.

“To be continued,” Nami whispered, pressing one last kiss against his lips to make her point, “because there will be a next time.” She delivered that line firmly because neither of them was dying before she could do this again.

He didn’t look convinced but that’s fine, Nami was adamant about it enough for the both of them. They finished clipping their helmets on and it’d be enough to supply them with oxygen for the next half an hour until the machine was working again.

“Roger, roger,” Nami spoke clearly into the communicator, hoping someone caught that.

For the second time, they were peering out into the corridor and they were eerily silent. Nami pushed through any of those thoughts, she’d think about that later, and took Zoro’s hand as they cautiously made their way through the hallways.

The doors behind them suddenly started snapping closed one by one.

And now the doors were being tampered with. It was trying to split them up.

“Run! We’re going to get locked in!”

As they took the last corner, just making it before they were sitting ducks in a part of the hallway with a vent, Nami could see the O2 room in the distance. She watched in horror as the door started to slide close. If she didn’t make that there was no telling if she’d be able to open it anytime soon and before she could think it through, she was dropping Zoro’s hand to sprint towards the door and slide through just as it closed behind her.

Heavy footsteps thumped from the other. “Oi! Are you okay!? Open the door,” Zoro shouted, banging on the door and as she swiped her key card to let him in, her hunch had been correct. It beeped angrily back at her; the door wouldn’t open. She would be stuck in here for the foreseeable future.

“I’m fine! The door won’t open, go find the others. Tell them about what’s going on and fix the door system, I’ll deal with O2.” He stayed silent and she knew he was about to argue with her, so she continued. “There’s no vents in here, I’ll be okay. Go!”

“Shit. Okay.” She couldn’t see him, but she knew he’s be running his hands over his helmet, wishing it was his hair. “I’ll be back as soon as the doors open again.”

And then she heard footsteps running away and she breathed out slowly. She could feel her eyes welling up as desperation set in but then she remembered Zoro’s words from before. It wasn’t over yet and he’d been right, if she got inside her head now, she wouldn’t be able to do this, and they’d all suffocate.

She had a job to do.

Cracking her fingers, she got to work on restoring the O2 and hoping everyone was piecing everything else together whilst she was busy.

Her fingers were furiously gliding over keyboards, bashing in key codes and watching bars slowly fill back up on the screen. Another few minutes and she’d be done- crisis averted. In the background, she could hear her communicator crackling with a few words scattered in but none of it made sense and she couldn’t waste time trying to piece it together.

The doors still hadn’t opened by the time she’d fixed the O2, she wasn’t sure how long she’d been in here, but it’d been a while and it was hard to tell what was going on outside.

This had been the longest day she’d ever experienced so far; it’d all started before lunch and as her stomach growled, it’s just dawning on her that she never got to eat. Oh god, she sounded like Luffy.

From the corner of her eye she could see some empty canisters, she figured she might as well pass some time filling them just in case and it beat sitting around grumbling about eating and unopened doors.

Just as she finished with the last canister the doors were slowly sliding open… except, Zoro’s not back yet and she’s caught between wanting to find everyone and waiting here for him. But then she’s just a sitting duck and the crew might need her.

She steeled herself to go out, but the lights still hadn’t been restored yet, and all alone it somehow felt even darker. Just as she’s about to leave, a spare steel rod caught her eye by the door and she’s picking it up. She had no idea whether it’d work against a thing like that (she refused to call it Robin), but it’s better than nothing.

Her communicator came alive then and there’s a frenzy of voices, she can’t quite pick out everyone but there’s enough voices to at least reassure her that the crew are okay.

“Nami- cafeteria-”

“Idiot-”

“No- engine- Nami.”

… What?

All the voices were talking over one another and with how poor the quality was she’s struggling to understand what she’s being told. From what she’s gleaned from the limited information it’s: go to the cafeteria, avoid the engine room. It’s slightly concerning that there’s still squabbling going on- but in truth, when is there not?

Before she had to make any hard decisions, a green suit comes into view down the hallway and she let out a sigh of relief at the sight of Zoro. He’d come back for her, just like he said, and maybe he’d have some idea about what’s going on.

“Zoro!” She whispered as loudly as she could, running towards him and he turned, his head nodding to acknowledge her. “Is everyone in the cafeteria?”

He grunted as she grabbed his hand and took off towards the cafeteria with him following closely behind. Although he’s normally quiet, he’s a bit too quiet considering the circumstances. She was expecting some scolding over her reckless move earlier.

“You okay?” She looked back at him, eyes quickly scanning along his body and didn’t see anything of immediate worry. Green suit intact, helmet firmly in place.

He nodded back at her and she figured the day must be taking a toll on him. She could certainly relate to that.

Shortly afterward she’s bashing in her key card for the closed cafeteria door but stopped short when it was empty. Where is everyone?

Before she could ask him, she could hear footsteps thumping from behind the opposite closed cafeteria door and she smiled to herself. So they were just early, for once.

As the doors opened, she started to walk forward and went to speak but her jaw abruptly snapped closed. Her eyes rounded and it felt like the floor was falling from beneath her.

She watched in horror as a green suit appeared through the opposite door.

Another green suit.

As in, there’s currently one next to her that she’s holding the hand of and one in front of her, that has also stopped dead in their tracks. They all had their own coloured suits for a reason, so they were easily recognisable with their helmets on.

Oh god. One of these suits is that thing.

And with that knowledge, she’s ripping her hand away from the green suit next to her and walking back slowly into the centre of the room, never turning her back so she can put equal distance between the two green suits and see them without having to turn her head.

From the corner of her eye, one of them moved, trying to slowly walk towards her like you would a spooked deer and instantly she felt adrenaline coursing through her as her body tensed. She’s reaching into her pocket then, pulling out the steel bar to clutch it in front of her.

“Back off,” she tersely told one of the suits

The advancing green suit halted immediately and took a step back, hands raised.

Her mind’s in pieces and she doesn’t know what to do. She’s in control of the room right now, both suits watching her from their positions but she knew that could change any moment and she doesn’t know what to do.

Suddenly the events of the day come rushing back to her.

Zoro had left navigation and then Usopp had got hurt.

Zoro sleeps a lot during the day and does basic tasks, like cleaning the garbage chute and heavy lifting tasks. Something anyone could do.

Zoro can’t open the goddamn doors!

She’d just kissed him- it!

Everything had been a lie.

Who the hell could she trust after this? Zoro was supposed to be it. It!

That thing can clearly shapeshift, going from a purple suit to a green one, but then, who said there’s only one of them?

Then she remembered earlier Luffy and Chopper had been running around aimlessly and Brook had screamed, and he was with them.

Luffy told them not to turn on each other.

Franky connected the vents together.

What ifs are flying around in her mind, as all of these thoughts come together. Seriously, who was she going to trust after this? Everyone looked suspicious.

Her breathing’s erratic and her heart felt like it’s going to jump out of her chest and her stomach’s rolling. Oh god, is she about to have an anxiety attack? Seriously, now of all places?! She’s about to lose her cool and control of the room. She needed to think.

One of the green suits that had appeared from the opposite door is ripping it’s helmet off, throwing it onto the floor, and she’s looking at Zoro’s face again.

“Nami, take a breath, I need you to calm down. A lot has happened since we last saw each other, but I need you to trust me right now and come over here.” His hand’s outstretched towards her but he’s not looking at her, his gaze is locked onto the other green suit that she had just been holding the hand of. Like he’s trying to size it up, to anticipate its next move.

Nami’s eyes flickered between them, sizing both of them up and god, did she want to trust the talking green suit, but how could she?! The other green suit is looking at her blanky, head tilted, and she just needed to confirm something before she made her move.

“Take off your helmet,” she shouted, jutting her steel bar at its helmet.

There’s a second where no one spoke or moved, and it felt like Nami was stuck in one of those crappy western standoffs. The one with the helmet still on tilted its head again and it’s looking between her and the other green suit without its helmet on.

Its hands come up to its helmet and for a moment Nami thought she’d be screwed if it actually took it’s helmet off because then she’s back to square one and the tension in the room can’t possibly get any higher without anything actually happening.

But Nami doesn’t have to go back to square one because it pulled its hands away without taking off the helmet and Nami watched in horror as the mask split apart to reveal a gaping mouth with razor sharp teeth and a tongue that came curling out with saliva dripping from it. It’s similar to what she saw before in the hallway but not even that could have prepared her for seeing it up close.

She’s frozen on the spot and it started to run towards her with what she can only describe as a screech of joy erupting from its mouth as it does. Except there’s another pair of feet running towards her too and she’s suddenly pushed down by Zoro as he covered her body with his. Zoro lifted his hand and the next second the thing is screeching in agony as he set off the blow torch in his hand.

Since when did he have that?

The thing reeled back, hands coming up to cup it’s scorched mouth and tentacles erupted from its back to lash out in its moment of vulnerability. One of them whipped towards them and Zoro’s falling back on her heavily. One look at him has her gasping and trying to sit up to get a better look.

“Zoro you’re eye!” Nami cried out. She didn’t see it happen, but she can see the blood that’s dripping from his eye and her stomach rolled. That’s because of her.

“No time, we have to move.”

And he’s right, the thing was still stooped low, sludge dripping from where it’d been burned but it’d only be a matter of time until it was on its feet again and they needed to regroup.

Nodding, she grabbed his hand and he was hauling her up onto her feet. She pushed him aside as they got to the closed cafeteria door, but her hands were shaking too much and the keypad denied her. She’d swiped too fast. She didn’t dare turn around when she heard a much less pained screech and, thankfully, Zoro didn’t rush her.

Second swipe and they were through the doors, but it wasn’t the homestretch yet. Nami could hear metal being torn apart and better judgement be damned, she turned around.

That thing couldn’t pass as human anymore. At this point it was more mouth than body, claws erupted from the suit and tentacles furiously swiped the air around it.

The next moment is disorientating as she’s suddenly swept from her feet and manhandled to sit at Zoro’s hip on one side. She clung to him in fear of falling off and it’s not exactly the most comfortable or stable position, but it freed her up a bit.

“I can’t drag you about as you stare, you’re too slow,” he explained as he ran.

“Just don’t drop me,” she told him, eyes narrowing in determination. He can run and she can keep it at bay. To his credit, he doesn’t even break a sweat at the extra weight, but she’d give that some more thought later.

The thing started to gain on them, screeching at them and when one of the tentacles came rushing towards them, Nami’s raising her steel bar to smack it away.

What she didn’t expect, was for the tentacle to absorb the bar.

“It took my bar!” She said, outraged.

Below her, Zoro grunted and his free hand is reaching into his trouser pocket. “That doesn’t work on it, use the blow torch.”

When the thing tried again, Nami aimed the torch and watched as the flame licked away at the tentacle, black sludge falling onto the floor below it. It stopped in its tracks then and Nami watched it slowly disappear from view as Zoro kept running and rounded the corner.

“It’s stopped chasing us,” Nami informed him, slightly confused why it’d give up so easily. Then she’s looking at the blowtorch, it either didn’t like fire or the light. Maybe it was both.

Then another thought came to mind. “When the hell did you figure this out?” She couldn’t keep the wonder out of her voice when she asked, she was impressed.

“I told you, a lot happened whilst you were locked in O2.” He took another left.

“Ah, so you spoke to Robin then.” She nodded to herself, the woman was sharp minded and no doubt, with the rest of them chiming in, they’d have worked something out quickly.

“Oi! I worked out that fire might work,” he grouched at her, offended that she was so quick to dismiss him.

“You came to save me on might!?” Of course he’d do something so ballsy and reckless.

“Some gratitude would be nice! What happened with your bar again?”

He had a point. Not that she was going to tell him that.

“I’ll give you that later,” she said lowly. It’s not fitting for the mood at all, but she couldn’t resist and maybe she needed some normality right now when they’re being hunted. Especially when she’s rewarded with an embarrassed flush working angrily up his neck.

“Okay, we can’t keep running around in circles. Where are the others?” He took another left and she frowned. If he wasn’t careful, they were going to end up back at the cafeteria and right now, they had no idea where that thing was.

“In the upper engine. They stayed behind, couldn’t have everyone running around with a shapeshifter on the lose.”

“Yeah, I get that, but why send you?” Yeah okay, it wasn’t helpful in this situation, but she had to ask.

He huffed but stayed silent, only adjusting his grip on her thighs.

“You ran off before they could stop you, didn’t you?”

“That’s not the point,” he replied indignantly, huffing. “Found you in the end, right?” It’s said with too much pride for someone who got lost constantly but she still found fondness building in her chest. Maybe they’re both idiots.

“Not hard when you told me to go to the cafeteria.”

“Don’t remind me, what idiots.” He came to a stop just down the hallway from upper engine and let her down. “We’d trapped it there and Franky had managed to block the vent but with how sketchy the communicators are I don’t even know why anyone bothered mentioning the cafeteria.”

“That vent isn’t blocked anymore, by the way, it got out,” Nami frowned, a thought coming to her, “It found me, I thought it was you, but the weird thing is, it didn’t kill me. It followed me.”

Zoro didn’t say anything in response, but he looked as perplexed as she felt. It’d attacked Usopp on sight but followed her willingly.

Those thoughts came to an abrupt halt though as she properly looked at Zoro for the first time since she’d met back up with him. He looked awful. His left eye was closed, and she didn’t know whether it was to keep the blood out of it or whether the eye just wasn’t there anymore. She couldn’t see the damage with so much blood oozing from the cut.

“Zoro, your eye,” Nami lamented, her hand coming up to cup his jaw and thumb soothing across the patch of cheekbone absent of any blood. She could only imagine how much that hurt right now. And he’d done it for her. The knot in her stomach tightened at the thought.

“It’s fine, stop fretting.” He tried to play it off and his hand grasped her wrist to gently pry it away from his face, but she wasn’t ready to let go of his face just yet.

“We’re not being chased right now; I can fret as much as I like.”

“I’d do it again,” he said gruffly, and it sounded like he was trying to reassure her about the wound so she wouldn’t feel guilty about it, but that didn’t detract from how sweet he sounded.

“Zoro,” she cooed, and he flushed a brilliant red when Nami’s other hand mirrored the action of cupping his jaw.

With her helmet on, she couldn’t lean in to kiss him like she wanted; for his sweet words, for her relief that he wasn’t a monster and that, so far, they were both alive. Instead, she’s leaning into him until she’s bumping her helmet against his forehead. It’s not nearly enough, but for now it’d have to do. He didn’t have any complaints when he leaned into her and his hands slid down her arms to cup her elbows to hold her close.

And that’s how they’re found. Standing around in the hallway, Nami cupping Zoro’s face and leaning into each other, a private moment that was suddenly very public.

“See! I told you I heard their voices,” Usopp stage whispered, eyes wide at the affectionate display.

Both of them paused, a hairsbreadth away from kissing, before whipping around to see Usopp and Sanji peeking out of the upper engine. Sanji looked outraged until his eyes locked onto Zoro’s bleeding face.

“What the hell happened?!”

Zoro groaned next to her. It was truly a testament to how bad it looked for Sanji to show such outward concern. They normally hid their affection for each other behind heated arguments and physical fights.

“Let’s all freak out over Zoro when we’re with everyone else,” Nami ordered. They were still standing in the hallway like nothing was currently happening. Zoro shot her a glare at that suggestion, something that didn’t hold much heat when he looked like that.

When they entered the upper engine room, it was empty. Just as she was about to voice her confusion, Zoro was pushing her towards the little broom cupboard in the corner.

As the door closed behind them, the small bulb in the room illuminated the rest of the crew, who were all looking worse for wear themselves. What the hell had been going on whilst she was trapped in O2?

It was a tight fit, as everyone huddled together, but it wasn’t important as her eyes jumped around familiar faces, taking in each one by one and doing a small role call in her head.

… 7, 8 and “Brook!”

“Brook! I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy to see you before in my life!” She’d definitely trod on someone’s foot to reach him, but she didn’t care as she flung her arms around his neck.

“Yohoho, this sounds like a backhanded insult, but I’ll take it!”

She allowed the hug for a moment longer but then she’s pushing is head out of the way, as he whispered a “so harsh”.

There’s a sudden commotion at the door then and it’s because Chopper’s just seen the state of Zoro. A pink suit is rushing towards Zoro, disregarding the rest of the crew as they start murmuring their own concerns, and he’s slinging his medical bag from his back to the floor to start pulling out things he’ll be needing.

“It’s fine Chopper! Just stick a plaster on it!” Zoro interrupted, swatting his hand to stop Chopper’s panicking as he started to examine the eye.

Chopper squawked at the suggestion and started laying into him, lecturing him about the danger of infections. Seeing as Chopper was no longer panicking and had started to clear away at the wound, Nami tuned it out in favour of getting some information on what the hell was going on.

“Right, someone needs to get me up to speed,” she stated and as an afterthought added, “And why are we huddled in the upper engine broom closet?”

“No vents in here,” Franky answered.

“Also, I don’t think the thing knows this room exists,” Usopp added as an afterthought.

“Not surprising, this is where all the cleaning supplies are and since when does anyone do that?” Nami sighed, but she couldn’t focus on their filthy ship just yet. Well, that wasn’t entirely fair. Sanji and Chopper kept their respective rooms clean, but that was it. The kitchen, med bay and the women’s room were the only clean places on board.

Nami’s comment was ignored as Sanji started to explain, “We don’t know how long its been on board, but Robin thinks it’s-”

“Morph,” Luffy cut off Sanji, looking far too proud of himself. When all she gave him was a baffled look, he explained further, “The thing. Its name is morph.”

As much as Nami was happy to see Luffy back to his normal self, so much so he was naming a blood thirsty monster, it was so incredibly unhelpful in the grand scheme of things. Before she could scold him, Usopp intervened.

“We didn’t name it Morph; you did!” Usopp accused and Nami was glad that he hadn’t become sucked into Luffy’s actions. “I still want Nightcrawler”

Urgh. Forget it. Of course Usopp wouldn’t be of any help.

“What happened to Rampage?” Zoro chimed in.

“No, we ditched that as soon as you left.”

“It was a stupid name,” Sanji sneered.

Nami could only stand there in disbelief and watched as the rest of the crew in front of her started to squabble about what to officially name that thing that was trying to kill them all.

“I quite like Selkie; they used to trick humans by transforming into them before mercilessly killing them. Quite like our situation, no?”

Nami barked a short laugh. Even Robin, her most trusted ally, the woman she could rely on when the boys descended into new levels of idiocy, had been sucked into naming this thing. She even noted that their lives were in danger and was still taking part. Was she going insane?

“Is this what you’ve been doing all this time? Naming this thing instead of figuring out how we’re going to survive?”

All of them looked at her, her voice cutting through their playful bickering and they all had the audacity to look at her like she was the one suggesting names in a dire, bleak situation. Maybe she was insane. She was in their books, based on the looks she was receiving.

“Don’t be stupid,” Luffy said, like he was the voice of reason here. “We did it after, when we were waiting for you.”

Ah yes, of course. She was the issue here.

She should be angry; she should throttle him but the day’s taking its toll on her and all she does is throw her head back and laugh. It’s a hearty laugh, right from her gut and it felt good. This situation is just so laughably hilarious.

“I think she’s lost her mind,” Usopp muttered and Chopper nodded next to him, looking at her cautiously.

Everyone’s looking at her as she started to calm down, wiping tears from her eyes. All she offered as explanation was, “I like the name Morph.”

Zoro caught her eye then and he smirked at her.

Luffy’s cheering then, arms thrown up in the air at his victory as the others mumble and moan about their loss. Apparently, everyone had their own name offered and with Nami voting for Luffy’s it was the clear winner.

“Right, so as I was saying, we don’t know how long Morph- I can’t do it! It’s a ridiculous name for such a serious situation.”

“Maybe that’s what we need right now,” Robin said and Nami couldn’t agree with her more. It’s why she liked it, it’s easier to deal with a shapeshifting monster with razor sharp teeth and tentacles when it’s named something so cute.

Luffy’s frowning, not budging as Sanji looked at him. “I won. Its name is Morph.”

“Nami liked it,” Usopp added and that’s enough to get Sanji talking again, seemingly accepting the name with no further complaints.

“Robin was thinking Morph’s been on board for a while because it seems to know where to go and what to tamper with to break the ship.” Sanji looked towards Robin, prompting her to take over from him.

“My theory is that it’s sophisticated enough to learn basic tasks and work out what we’re doing but Morph can’t learn complex things like language,” Robin speculated and Nami nodded in agreement, remembering Morph’s silence in the hallway. “I don’t think it likes light and that’s the reason why tampered with the lights before appearing fully. Space is very dark after all… and cold.” She’s looking towards Zoro then. “Did your theory work, Zoro?”

Zoro nodded back as Chopper was putting the finishing touches on his bandaged eye. “It seemed to hurt it and it backed off when it started chasing us.”

Robin and Zoro’s conversation held no tension like it did earlier from the cafeteria and Nami’s glad to see it. A lot seemed to have happened since then. No doubt she’d get the details from Usopp later.

“So what are we going to do now?” She’d got enough information about that thing- Morph, she corrected mentally, but now she wanted their plan of attack.

Except her question brought a hush over the crew and she’s looking at each of them to try and figure out what she’s said wrong. Usopp looked pained and Franky’s resting a big hand on his shoulder.

Luffy looked solemn and Nami hated it already, as much as his happy go lucky behaviour might irritate her sometimes, she wanted it back desperately in this situation.

“We’re leaving the ship,” Luffy said.

What? This was their home, where everything had started. “What? How can we-” She started.

“The decision’s been made,” he stated firmly and when Nami looked at Usopp, someone who would definitely agree with her, he looked downhearted but on board. This conversation had already been talked through at length it seemed. “Franky.” And Luffy’s nodding towards their mechanic to continue.

“The ships on its last legs. I’ve just barely managed to hold together the reactor, but we don’t have long, electrics are fried and on top of that there’s a monster out there making it worse,” Franky explained and as much as it pained her, she’d been out there, she’d seen the state of the ship.

“We’d have to find it and kill it, that’s even if it hadn’t tampered with the ship before we do.”

“Even then, something still might trip.”

“It’s too risky.”

Nami sighed and ran her hands through her hair. She understood but it was a lot of take on board. Ultimately, they were right. Their lives would be at risk and she remembered back to earlier when she was uncertain about how many of them were still alive.

She wanted them all to come out of this alive.

“What’s the plan?”

They’re huddled tightly into a circle going through the last few details. Franky and Usopp have prepared the emergency ship, it’ll be tight for all of them, nothing compared to their current spacious ship, but it’s good enough for now. It’s only there until they can land and find something else.

“I’m heading to the kitchen to get supplies,” Sanji informed them and Brook next to him is offering to go with.

“I need to go to the medbay,” Chopper added and Robin’s volunteering to accompany him.

“You need a helmet,” Nami said, pointing at Zoro. His was sat in the cafeteria and its current state was unknown. Everyone else’s were clipped to their belts safely. “If O2 goes out again, you’re screwed.”

“If you’re going that way, pick up extra helmets and suits,” Robin suggested and it’s a good idea.

“Someone needs to go to O2 to get backup oxygen,” Franky told the group, the emergency ship only had so much stocked into it and seeing at they’re abandoning the ship, they might as well take all they have with them.

“They’re already filled, I did it whilst I was waiting for the doors to open. Someone else needs to grab them, I’m going with Zoro.”

No one argued that and they’re all nodding. It was in their best interest to have the navigator with the permanently lost. Zoro didn’t argue it, even though he knew the reason behind it but now wasn’t a time for bickering.

“I’m going to the reactor to grab my tools,” Franky said and seeing and Luffy and Usopp are the last ones left, they’re going with Franky.

With everyone allocated to a task and paired off, they all agreed they’d meet back in the cafeteria in 10 minutes. It was a get in and get out job, no side tracking and if a pair didn’t come back- there would be a search party. No one was being left behind. Franky didn’t have many, but he had enough blow torches for one per group, should they come across Morph on their short trip.

It was then that Nami realised they’d been in the small cupboard a while with no disruptions but before she could voice her concern, the reactor alarm was blaring again. She hung her head, it felt like she’d jinxed them.

“That’s our countdown,” Franky informed them. “I stabilised the reactor as best as I could, but we only have twenty minutes before it’s done for. We need to be gone before that.”

With that last warning, the groups are filtering out of the tiny cupboard and spreading throughout the ship. There’s a shout of helmets off until they leave and Nami had no problem with that, it’d take away the element of surprise, because as far as she’s aware, Morph can’t imitate their faces.

Nami and Zoro run next to each other through the corridors with no hesitancy. There’s no time for it and at least they’re armed now. The cafeteria’s empty and neither of them bother to check if Zoro’s helmet is intact- no side tracking. They pass by Sanji and Brook as they make their way into the kitchen. They’re running past admin and they only have to make it through storage to reach the women’s and men’s rooms next to communications.

As they made it into the men’s room, Nami gets a bad feeling. All of this is far too easy. There’re no crackling voices in her earpiece, there’s no yelling or frantic feet and despite the reactor siren going off, it was almost peaceful. It didn’t sit right with her.

“Zoro, I have a bad feeling,” Nami told him as she grabbed a bag to start shoving spare space suits into.

“It’s too easy,” he agreed with her, taking another bag to put spare helmets into and then clipping another helmet onto his belt. “But I won’t complain. Maybe it backed off because we found it’s weak spot.”

For now, she could only agree with him and hope it was just good luck as they moved into the women’s room the other side of communications to repeat the process.

Nami doesn’t have a watch, but as they finish packing, she’s sure they must be getting close to 10 minutes.

There’s a loud commotion towards O2 and Nami and Zoro are shooting each other a look. They don’t need to verbalise anything before they’re running towards the sound- if any of their crew was in trouble, of course they’d rush to help.

Except when they arrive, there’s nothing there. It’s silent. There’s nobody in sight, they can’t hear feet running nearby and there’s no sign of a struggle.

“False alarm, let’s go,” Zoro said and he’s walking towards the door.

Nami nodded and went to follow him out, except out of the corner of her eye she can see a spare O2 bottle. She frowned, she’d definitely filled all of them and she’s not sure how someone had missed that one. Despite the voice in the back of her head that told her ‘no detours’, this technically isn’t one. They might end up needing that and she’d kick herself for leaving it behind.

As she picked it up, it’s far too light compared to the others she filled earlier and when she turned the canister around, the bar’s empty.

It’s then that it all clicked into place; no sign of Morph, the sound of a struggle only to find no one’s here and a strategically place O2 bottle to distract a passer-by.

A trap.

Zoro’s already left the room and she’s running after him, shouting for him to stop, not caring how loud her voice was right now. He’s almost into the weapons room when he whipped around, alert and ready for whatever she’s about to say but it’s too late. The doors between them are closing.

They’re both running but Nami knows it’s useless, there’s no way she’s going to make it through. With the last crack left, she’s throwing through her bag to Zoro and watching the doors shut on his panicked face. She imagined hers didn’t look much better.

Shit. He had the blow torch.

The keypad angrily denied her when she swiped her key card and her stomach’s sinking at the knowledge that she’s truly vulnerable right now.

There’s a loud thump followed by a silent curse from the other side of the door but it barely budged. Zoro’s trying to break down the door. It was no use; they’re made to withstand extreme conditions in the case of an emergency. Nami laughed at the humour, this is an emergency and now she’s in danger because of it.

“Zoro, go back to the cafeteria, drop the bags and get someone. Someone must be back by now. I’ll try the other door to the cafeteria.”

He had no choice but to agree and he left her with a, “Be careful. No reckless moves.”

Too late for that advice, she thought bitterly.

Nami turned to face the dimly lit corridor in front of her. Without Zoro here, it looked ominous, the shadows looked dangerous all of a sudden and every sound had her jumping out of her skin. But the longer she stood here, the longer she’d be alone. She clutched the O2 cannister in her hands for some form a reassurance and, as a last-minute decision, she clipped on her helmet for an extra layer of defence.

She started a tentative jog down the hallway, a stark difference from the quick and confident one she had with Zoro. She stopped at corners to peer around them, to make sure the coast was clear and yes, it did slow her down, but she needed caution right now.

It’s the home stretch when she reached storage and she wondered if her brain was playing tricks on her. Maybe it wasn’t a trap and the ship really was just on its last legs, like Franky had explained.

Just as she’s passing admin, she can hear heavy footsteps from behind her. She’s wanted to continue forward, but it also crossed her mind that it could be Zoro. He wasn’t far from the cafeteria before and if Franky or Usopp was there, they’d have the door opened swiftly.

Tentatively, she backtracked and as she peered around the corner, the relief is almost crippling.

Zoro.

He’s standing in the doorway of storage, looking around for her and then she’s jogging towards him, a cheerful, “Zoro”, coming from her mouth.

The joy’s over when he turned to face her and she’s looking back at two steel eyes. Not a cut or bandage in sight.

That was not Zoro.

She faltered slightly but remembered earlier when Morph had followed her after approaching it like nothing was wrong. She fought down the urge to flee and plastered a wobbly smile back onto her face to continue her walk towards it.

Except this time, Morph’s not curious, Morph’s hungry. It doesn’t keep up the pretence of a human and the moment Nami sees a mouth, she’s flinging the O2 cannister at it and darting away.

“Help, help, help,” she’s pleading into her communicator but its only static that responded back.

She was well and truly on her own.

She doesn’t dare look over her shoulder to see if Morph is chasing her, but her arms are stretching out for anything within reach she can knock over and hopefully buy herself time. As she smacked something behind her, she peeked over her shoulder and terror is almost choking her. Morph’s not close, but it is chasing her as it used its tentacles to propel it forward.

The thumping of her own footsteps is deafening, and her legs are burning as she ran down the empty corridor between electrical and lower engine, but she can’t let up her pace for even a second if she wanted to get out of this alive.

She skidded as she took a sharp turn and it definitely lost her some distance. It’s confirmed when there’s footsteps behind her, heavy and loud, and she can practically feel its breath on her neck. She didn’t dare to look over her shoulder again because she knew she’d be greeted by the sight of Morph practically on her back.

One second she’s looking at the familiar sight of upper engine just in front of her and she’s so close to the cafeteria, then the next she’s eating the floor. The impact has her face crashing into the shield of her helmet and so much for extra protection, she thought, as her nose smarted and started trickling blood.

Her feet are pulled from beneath her and she’s being dragged back. She doesn’t have time to register the pain in her face as she flipped over to watch as the tentacles around her foot pulled her slowly towards the towering monster. Morph’s grown and there’s multiple mouths erupting from the green of the suit

She kicked her free foot out, trying to stamp on the tentacle wrapped around her ankle but it’s quickly caught by another tentacle and then she’s being dragged closer even quicker.

Morph settled over her when she’s pulled underneath it and the weight of it had the air rushing out of her lungs. If it doesn’t kill her quickly, it’s going to crush her instead.

That doesn’t stop her from throwing a fist out to punch its face- she may be about to die, but she’s not dying easily. The image of Zoro’s face distorted from the impact before reforming, but it doesn’t stay that way for long as its face split apart to form a long stretching mouth. A tongue slithered out and licked across all its teeth as saliva dripped down onto the front of Nami’s helmet. It’s enough to get Nami moving as she squirmed underneath it, hands pushing and feet kicking desperately so she can shimmy out.

She cried out in pain when a tentacle from behind it’s back stabbed through her shoulder to pin her down to the floor beneath and there’s a clawed hand digging into the side of her waist. It’s enough to stop her squirming, as tears rolled down her face and her hands are at the tentacle in her shoulder to try and relieve the pain.

But the pain is nothing compared to watching its tongue slink out of its mouth down to her helmet and lick a long stipe across the glass. She’s helpless as the tongue started to undo the latches on her helmet and its claw dug even further into her side, as if expecting her to struggle.

She can’t believe she’s about to die at the hands (or mouth) of something that looked like Zoro. There’s probably something poetic in there but now’s not the time to be thinking about that.

As the last latch clicked loose, her helmet’s thrown to the side and she’s face to face with the monster on top of her (It turned out, Morph wasn’t a suitable name. She wished she’d gone with Robin’s option). Its tongue snapped back to its mouth, but her eyes are screwing shut as it stretched to lick a long path across her neck and face. There’s so much saliva that it dribbled down the rest of her face and she can’t believe this is it, this is her last few moments.

It growled in her ear, but she can’t bring herself to open her eyes, even when she heard its teeth snap just above her. She doesn’t want her last moment alive to be looking at an imposter of Zoro. She’d much rather remember the real Zoro’s dazed face after their first kiss.

But then it’s all gone, the weight’s gone and she’s gasping in pain when the claws in her side and tentacle are ripped out.

There’s a battle cry above her head and she opened her eyes just in time to watch Luffy jump over her body and a massive flame erupt from his blowtorch. She can’t be sure, her viewpoint from the floor isn’t the best, but she’s pretty sure there’s a massive grin etched onto his face as he launched his attack.

She felt like she was hallucinating as she watched the monster reel back and try to avoid the flames as it screeched in pain. She’s sitting up to watch but it’s blocked as Zoro knelt in front of her. His mouth’s moving and distantly she heard him saying that he shouldn’t have left her but she’s too busy looking at his face, soaking in the downward turn of his mouth, his remaining steel coloured eye searching her face and the green of his hair.

She wondered idly if she’s died and this was hell and she’s being forced to watch what her rescue could have looked like if it hadn’t gone all wrong. Zoro did always tell her she was going to hell when she died. She can’t wait for him to join her so she can rub it in his face that he ended up there too.

She’s pulled out of her scattered thoughts when Zoro’s softly wiping at her face with his hands, wiping the saliva on his suit and it’s the most worried she’s ever seen him; his face is pale and drawn. “I thought you were dead,” he breathed out and she came to the conclusion that she doesn’t like that look on his face. “With that thing over you and you were so still,” he continued and he’s still looking at her like she might die any second.

“Get a grip,” is all she told him and it’s worth it because he barked a laugh and it felt like they were back in her navigation room bantering with each other.

“You’re a mess,” he said bluntly and they’re falling back into their normal routine, so she decided not to take offense. His gaze does a circuit around her face, shoulder and side.

“You too,” she joked and although it wasn’t funny, she laughed lightly. Whether it was because she was alive, or he was or that this wasn’t hell after all. Maybe it was all of it.

He didn’t laugh back; the mood dropping suddenly, and she knew it was because he was feeling guilty. That this should’ve been him, not her.

Her hand cupped his jaw and her thumb’s running along the seam of the plaster over his eye. “You’ve done enough, have to do my part too, right?”

His expression instantly told her he doesn’t agree with that sentiment but before he can respond, Luffy’s next to them again.

“We gotta go,” Luffy said, breaking them apart and he’s throwing his empty blow torch down as the black puddle down the hall started to slowly reform. “You can make kissy faces when we’re in the ship.”

Nami spluttered angrily, embarrassed but Zoro just nodded and his hands are under her armpits then to help her stand. She cringed as she jarred her shoulder and pain lanced through her body. Its yet to stop bleeding and if she’s not careful, her orange suit is going to start rivalling Luffy’s red one.

“Put pressure on your shoulder,” Zoro said and she’s being scooped up to sit at his hip again, the wound at her waist facing outward so it’s not angered.

She’s giving him a funny look before cringing as she tried to clamp her hand over the wound on the shoulder that felt like it suddenly had a pulse. Zoro understood what she meant and answered, “Chopper’s lectured me enough, some of it had to sink in.” His free hand smothered over hers to press down on the wound and she’s borrowing her face into his neck at the pain. She almost doesn’t know what to do with herself. He muttered a “sorry” lowly but didn’t let up.

“Luffy, I’m changing my vote, Morph is a stupid name. I’m siding with Robin,” she murmured, exhausted as the adrenaline started to wear off and in need of a distraction herself from her wounds and the monster that was after them.

Luffy laughed brightly as he ran next to Zoro, no doubt happy to see her alive and arguing again. He tried to dispute her change of confidence, but she refused to hear any of it.

Behind them there’s an angry screech, it’s far off into the distance and when Nami looked behind them, there’s nothing there. It’s odd but she couldn’t give a damn right now.

Instead she’s asking, “Where is everyone?”

“On the ship, waiting for us. Franky’s getting everything ready so as soon as we’re there we can go,” Luffy answered.

“Curly cook said we’re not allowed on if we don’t come back with you alive.” Zoro’s doing his best to stop his jog from jostling her too much. It’s thoughtful but honestly doesn’t do very much.

She snorted. “I’m super tough, doesn’t he know?” It’s meant to be a joke because honestly, look at the state of her, but Zoro and Luffy only look at her with pride.

“You did really well,” Zoro murmured and his hand under her supporting her squeezed in reassurance.

The rest of the run to the cafeteria was uneventful and they should probably be questioning that but Nami’s too exhausted to bring it up. She’s hungry, in pain and bleeding. All she wanted to do was lay down and sleep.

As soon as they enter the cafeteria, the crew’s there waiting for them just before the small hallway that’d take them to the emergency ship and their faces shift from anxious to relieved.

It’s a short-lived celebration when the vent at the bottom of the cafeteria exploded open and black sludge poured out.

“You’ve got to be kidding me, doesn’t it know when to give up?” Zoro griped and his grip on her tightened.

They’re being ushered then down the small hallway and onto the emergency ship. Franky and Robin are at the front getting ready to leave and Chopper’s flitting around Nami, working quickly to staunch the bleeding. She wondered just how bad she must look when he didn’t immediately panic at first.

They’re watching as from the outside the black sludge was slowly growing bigger as it reformed, and she wondered if Luffy’s previous bombardment of fire had worn it down.

There’s an explosion in the distance that rocked the ship. Not only has that thing found them, but the reactor it sabotaged earlier has finally packed in.

They’re out of time.

“Uhh, Franky, we gotta go. Now,” Sanji warned as he stood at the back door with Luffy beside him and Zoro left her side then to stand with them just in case.

“I’m moving as quickly as I can!” And it’s true, Franky’s hands are furiously flicking switches and pushing buttons as quickly as he could with Robin co-piloting next to him.

Usopp’s down by her feet tinkering with something and Nami almost wanted to scold him that this wasn’t the time for that, but then her eye caught the ripped up top and fluid-filled bottle.

“Are you making a gasoline bomb?” Nami tiredly asked, her head lolled to the side to watch to distract away from the pain as Chopper worked on her shoulder.

“Yeah!” Usopp said proudly. “I started working on it when we were waiting for you three, y’know, in case.” His hands are quickly working as he soaked the top in alcohol (Zoro wouldn’t be happy about that later) and plugged it into the bottle.

“Franky,” Zoro barked.

“I need another minute! Stall!” Franky barked back.

When Nami looked outside she could see why Zoro and Sanji were panicking, Selkie’s almost fully reformed (Nope, not even Selkie’s the right fit). There’s still hints of different suit colours on its body, around the mouths (Nami shuddered to herself), but it doesn’t bother standing on its feet now, instead using the tentacles and long black nails slide out of its hands. She had no idea how something without a face looked enraged and furious, but it did as it screeched.

There’s a commotion at the door as Zoro stepped out, he’d pushed Luffy and Sanji out of the way and was trying to close the door behind him. Nami tried to get up too, but Chopper’s there to push her back down and it doesn’t take much to keep her down.

“Just go,” Zoro shouted, taking a step out of the ships door and facing the monster that’s only advancing by the second in front of him.

“If anyone’s going to be the knight in shining armour, it’s me!” Sanji exclaimed, puffing out his chest to stalk towards the door. Brook just managed to snag his suit to pull him back in.

Luffy’s frowning and Nami knows it’s because he’s not going to let anyone be left behind. Usopp’s calling towards Luffy as he was making his way to the door with instructions to get him inside and duck on his command. Sanji instantly stopped struggling as he pieced it together.

Not a moment later, Luffy’s wrestling Zoro into the ship as he’s shouting at him and honestly, it’s an amusing sight. Zoro who’s almost twice Luffy’s size being overpowered so easily.

As soon as they’re inside, Usopp’s shouting, “Duck!” and they’re both hitting the floor as Usopp’s lighting the gasoline bomb.

Usopp threw it just as that thing made it to the top of the small hallway and the glass shattered on impact, gasoline spreading over its skin and it’s reeling back as it caught alight, its screeching was almost deafening.

“Close the door!”

Sanji snapped the door shut and then the little ship was blasting off. If the monster hadn’t been hurt enough by Usopp’s gasoline bomb, then it certainly was by the flames that erupted from the back of the ship.

Everybody paused what they were doing, even Chopper had stilled, and watched in silence as they slowly drifted away from their ship. The left side of the ship was slowly melting away as the reactor exploded in on itself and it wouldn’t be long until nothing was left of it.

Nami wasn’t sure how to feel. They’d all escaped with their lives, so this should be classed as a win, but it somehow felt like a loss as she watched her home slowly destroy itself. A few tears were threatening to bubble over at the sight, but she didn’t dare look over at Usopp or Franky.

The feeling was chased away when Zoro sat down next to her, taking her hand and squeezed it.

…

“I still like the name Morph.”

Usopp slapped Luffy.

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

Huge respect for Oda, I hated juggling just 9 characters and he does it with an even bigger cast.

Also, sorry if anyone’s disappointed that there’s no deaths or a ‘real’ imposter. I’m weak. I want happy endings always and I can’t do that if I kill off parts of the straw-fam.

As always, please excuse any errors- especially as I rushed to get this done in time.

Thanks for reading and Happy Halloween!

#ZoNami #ZoNa #zoroxnami #swordgust #opfanfic #opwriting #one piece #zoro #nami

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thehungryplaice · 3 years

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Go Back To The 80s With The Hungry Plaice....

https://www.the-hungryplaice.uk/go-back-to-the-80s-at-your-event

The 80s....What a Decade! I don't mind admitting we are big 80s lovers at The Hungry Plaice, it was the decade of our childhood filled with cheese and the start of the video game revolution and if we could go back in time that's where you would find us, I would love to go back to experience the feelings of being back there but with alot more appreciation for what we had as we didn't have a clue back then how fab that time was. There are loads of 80s revivals around, 80s pop stars relaunching their careers and touring again and TV shows picking up on the 80s themes. We love our 80s vans so much that we currently have two these are our Vintage Fish and Chip Vans Betty and Beryl, we try not to look around and see if there are any more for sale as we would be quite happy to fill up our driveway with more of these beauties!

The 80s was filled with fun, fun and loads more fun from the Neon leggings we all wore to the Arcades full of cool games that we used to play, things back then just seemed so much easier and we were still in the days when it was safe for us kids to be playing out all day without our parents knowing where we were rather than being stuck in your bedroom glued to a game, we enjoyed fresh air and freedom and as long as we were back for tea our parents didn't worry about us. We didn't have rules like we do nowadays, Health and Safety was in it's infancy and as kids we could do pretty much what we wanted, we had metal bars we would swing on in the playground at school with huge concrete stepping stones you'd jump across, I got a scar from banging my nose on one of those in my Primary School and I still think it was character building. At home we had a metal framed bunk bed I'm sure was from MFI, there was a metal netted bottom that the mattress sat on top of, I always used to get my hair tangled up in that and I'm sure I've probably got bald patches from where I had to be cut out to be freed. We had a pampas greenish coloured bathroom set in my childhood home which would be considered Vintage today and lots of brown 80s things around the house like pull down coiled lights in the ceilings. My parents were delighted when they had the chance to put an eye level oven in the kitchen and ditch the freestanding gas oven where you had the grill at the top and try to burn your hands when you were cooking your fish fingers, we did have a microwave at some point and that lead to a rebellion on proper cooking! I remember using libraries alot when I was younger, it was a treat going and picking out books you could take away home, there was a limit to the number that you could have and you had to be careful not to get a fine for taking it back late. Information had to be researched and you couldn't do that from the comfort of home, for school I had to go there to find books on certain subjects and I remember being fascinated when having to use those terminals to look at old newspapers. The music was so much better back then, there was a happiness to songs that just made you want to dance not full of rude words and sexual references like today, we had an array of one hit wonders and big massive stars like Madonna and Kylie, Duran Duran and Wham! The songs still get played today but they sound more superior as we no longer listen to them on cassette tapes.

Cassette Tapes.....they were the days, I forgot how you had to rewind them to the beginning to get to the start and you could use a pencil if the tape pulled out and how there are pauses between songs and of course whilst you can try to to rewind and forward wind you'll never find the start of a song, we are spoilt now that we can do that just by pressing a button. The most embarrassing bit was when I asked my husband if something was wrong with the tape as the pause was going on just a bit too long....he gently reminded me that it was the end of the tape and it needed to be turned over haha!! Of course we all had those high tech Pre MP3/IPod/CD Players to play our music with a set of headphones with the fuzzy ears, my brother had one of the early Sony Walkmans and never let me even see it, I bet that's worth something these days I bought a cheap one off Ebay recently I couldn't help myself! Toys were actual toys there were a few electronic ones around such as Speak & Spell or a talking doll where you had a pull a bit of string and it only said about three words, we really actually played with physical things I had Sindy and some Barbie Dolls in fact I had so much of it I'd carry it all in one of those old large blue plastic shopping bags funny there were sold by Tesco to put into your trolley when they introduced self scanning it seems the technology died a death all those years ago but it now all the range. My brothers had Action Men and loads of model cars, we had a huge floor mat that had map on it with roads and a town that you would drive your model cars around all day on. There were Garbage Pail Kids, Care Bears, Rubix Cubes Train Sets and Scaletrix and as we were a bit more money savvy in those days you'd only get something for your birthday and Christmas not just because your parents wanted you to be quiet!

TV Back in the 80s

When we wanted to watch something on TV we only had a few channels I remember the time before Channel 5 and we had one huge Brown TV in the Lounge where you had to press the buttons on the front to change the channel, I reckon you would have needed a forklift to move the damn thing it was so huge and took up half the room. Days were filled with whatever my parents wanted to watch, there was Rainbow and Playschool when I was little, I remember watching the very first episode of Eastenders (a bad TV habit I dropped a few years ago), programmes were quite limited back then but it wasn't a huge deal because we entertained ourselves as kids, sometimes watching a Film would be a big treat and made special times like Christmas were more exciting sitting down together as a family and watching a film just released on TV that we had never seen before. We didn't mind adverts if we were watching ITV or Channel4 they didn't drag on like you get these days.

I don't remember exactly when Video Recorders came on the market but I know there were Betamax and VHS, we had VHS machine, you could record programmes off the TV and playback at your leisure and you always knew someone who was copying VHS to VHS that would sell you some films. I still used VHS tapes when my daughter was little so they were around all the time I was growing up. Buying a VHS tape was a real treat, you might have been lucky enough to have seen a film in the cinema but there was always a really big delay until they were released on Video or so it seemed. Of course for a really special treat you would go Blockbusters to rent a video but they were quite strict if you forgot your video card I guess computer systems weren't able to let you confirm any of your account details you had!

80s Fashion

Then there was the fashion in the 80s.....wow it was great and brilliant all neon neon neon and bright colours, I had one of those multi coloured white and purple shellsuits and Hi-Tec Trainers. There were punk hairstyles and coloured dyed hair and clothes that didn't match, famous stars created looks from throwing clothes together like Madonna and Boy George. Colours like pink, yellow and blue where everywhere, we had shoulder pads and polka dots, tracksuits and fitness gear, an explosion of trainers and dungarees. There are brands that have come back into fashion nowadays like Kappa and Champion, I wish to god I had kept them all to have them now! We would shop in the local high street and independent fashion shops, I lived in London and would go markets at the weekend, Wembley market was a huge favourite. We had BHS and C&A and a shop called Madhouse in the High Street at the top of the road, I don't really remember when the supermarkets starting selling clothes and the rise of the bigger fashion names back then we were quite limited to only a few shops. I have to mention Woolworths of course, we had one in our high street and I would enjoy just walking around looking at the everything they had including the glorious pick and mix!

Rumbelows.... I remember when you wanted something electrical you could shop at Currys and Comet and even Rumbelows, you always had to go out to buy something and bigger electrical items were never in stock and always had to be ordered and delivered weeks later, we really don't know how lucky we are to have the internet and the ability to order online it saves so much time and give us the freedom of choice to buy from so many different places. Of course the reason we couldn't buy online was because we didn't have the internet in our homes, no mobile phones, I got my first when I was 18 and had to ask permission to call anyone from the house phone, if you wanted to meet your friends you had to arrange it all before you went out and you couldn't check if they were on their way to see you unless you have 10p and phone box nearby. You were lucky if you had a Games Console let alone a Computer....

Gaming in the 80s, well what can I say it put gaming on the map and if it wasn't for those early days I doubt the gaming industry would be what it is today. We had a Spectrum Sinclair 48k first, I'm not even sure what a 48k would be today in terms of processing or storage even a single Word document can be bigger than that. It was bought as a shared present in the family one Christmas and I rarely got to play on it. All I remember is that we had a small black and white TV that we would connect to the computer and you'd have a cassette player connected to, for the Sinclair 128k we had later on I know there was a cassette player connected to the right hand side of the keyboard. Anyway you'd press play and then hear this whizzing buzzing noise whilst the game was loading and the TV would go all fuzzy, sometimes it would take ages and if you had a copy your mate recorded it might not load properly, talk about building your anticipation and then letting you down! The games we had included Daley Thompson, Hungry Horace and Jet Set Willy, I've seen the Spectrum emulator and its a great reminder of the games we had in the days gone by, they now download in seconds....just think what we could have done with all that time we sat staring at a screeching cassette tape player waiting for games to load. We would use the keyboard to play or a joystick if that sort of thing was sold with the Computer you had and your parents could afford one, it was quite easy....left, right, up, down and fire. Us kids would normally have one type of computer, ours was the Spectrum and I know someone on our road had the Commodore and I think there was a Binatone in someone's house, you were royalty if you were lucky enough to have more than one Computer. Handhelds were around then like the Game and Watch ones I don't remember all the different ones they made there were so many sold, we had an early Donkey Kong split screen it was orange on the casing of course I hardly got to play that either, the newer generation of Gaming Consoles like the Sega Megadrive was a big surprise to us kids that you could just put your game in and not long after be playing your game how did that happen! We also had the launch of the Nintendo Gameboy at the end of the decade which changed our gaming lives forever! Another side of gaming that you don't really see today was the Arcades, they were places you hung out with your mates for hours and hours playing Street Fighter and Pac Man, we had a shop on the high street which only had one or two I think it might have been a cafe, when you scored a high score you'd put your three initials in, arcades are mostly for the seaside holidays today full of the boring 2p push machines and fruities, as we know the game industry moved from those high street arcades to bedrooms.... So next time you complain about having to wait whilst you're downloading that highly sophisticated game with the controller I would need a degree to understand how to use think about us kids and our gaming....!

The 80s....wow what a decade

what a time, full of colour, lights and fun, I do wish I could get in a time machine and go back there and have some fun but I know we will never go back to those easy days we will keep moving forwards so instead I'll enjoy our road trips in the vans with the crackling radios....

https://www.the-hungryplaice.uk/go-back-to-the-80s-at-your-event

#thehungryplaice #vintagefishandchipvan #fishandchipvanhire #weddingcatering #weddingfood #corporateeventcatering #eventcatering #1980sparty #1980s

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iamlithiuminati · 4 years

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*Please note, the below are from my personal experiences and opinions. I will not be naming any person or hospital within my stories. I will show evidence, and censor any needed information, to back up my story. Please note, if you are feeling suicidal then please call 911 and speak with an operator as soon as possible. In addition, all artwork is the property of the artist. Some artist’s names cannot be located.*

Amongst my depression, social anxiety disorder, and my supposed “cannabis abuse disorder”, I have recently been diagnosed with bipolar 2 disorder. I had been diagnosed for the past 5 years with major depressive disorder, and social anxiety. Well, since I just recently found out I had bipolar disorder, I didn’t realize my depression medications, that I had been taking for the past 5 years had actually been making my manic symptoms much more severe; unannounced to me. Studies show, if taking depression medication while one has bipolar disorder, it can negatively affect moods. Now, a little background, bipolar disorder is a mood disorder, where an individual cannot control their moods. These moods typically range from extreme highs to extreme lows, to feeling absolutely nothing at all. With bipolar 1 disorder, a person will have more elevated and severe manic moods than depressive moods. Now with bipolar 2 disorder, a person will have more depressive states, and have hypomania states. Hypomania is a milder form of being manic, but still heavily prevalent in the disease.

I always felt there was more than just depression that I was suffering from when I first sought a doctor out in 2015. However, the doctors would never listen to my suggestions. I spoke with many doctors over the past 5 years. The thing that angers me the most is when people ask me “Well, did tell your doctor this?” As that one of the most common responses back I get when talking to people. Yes, I have told numerous doctors about my symptoms and how I was feeling. I was ignored. Yet, because my father would never get tested for mental illness and his side of the family has no history of mental illness, my doctors would never rule me as having bipolar disorder. Which, in my opinion, is very dumb. But who knows more about myself than a doctor I saw 1 time, right?

Why did I feel the doctors were incorrect? Because I watched my own behavioral patterns, personal movements, even speech patterns, and observing my own family members try to find what illness I had so I could eventually treat my madness. I knew depressive people were not so angry and are able to control their moods better. Finally, in July 2020, I told my 6th psychiatrist he needed to listen to me. I was finally diagnosed correctly. He was either going to listen to me, or I was going to become another statistic. I am now on proper medication. Bipolar disorder is one of the most expensive mental illnesses to treat and diagnose. My medical bills prove it. It cost me anywhere from $3k to $6k a year just to treat my mental illness. Without insurance, it would be more. However, at the end of the day. My life is worth so much more than money, worth more than gold, and worth more than medical bills. I am done. I found my voice, and this system better watches out. Because mental healthcare is about to get called out. This is one of the most difficult things I have ever dealt with in my life. This will never end. No. No, stimulus check will help. I have a permanent illness that will never go away, that I have to continuously treat.

Where many people would have given up, committed suicide, and not seen the 6 different psychiatrists, 3 different counselors, 1 – 4-day stay at an inpatient hospitalization for suicidal ideation in 2019, 1 extensive outpatient therapy program designed for 6 weeks – 4 days a week for 3 hours a day, weening on and off several handfuls of different medications, wrong ones, right ones, fucked up ones, a denied trip to the mental hospital for suicidal ideation in 2015, then finally being accepted 4 years later to the mental hospital for suicidal ideation.

Through all these struggles I kept going and going. I kept going with all these obstacles against me, all while still taking care of my relationship, taking care of my mental health while still on the wrong medications, taking care of our children aka dogs, receiving promotions, and praise at work. I held myself together. I felt it all inside, a madness. I wanted to scream, I wanted to run. I didn’t know where to run, or where to scream where no one would hear me. Where no one would worry about me if I just needed to explode. I was constantly putting everyone and everything else besides myself first, and as a priority in life, and it had been eating me up.

Statistics show I already have an average of 9.2 years taken off my life span, due to me having bipolar disorder. Bipolar disorder affects approximately 2.3% of the U.S. population, affecting more women than men. Some of the medication I take that helps treat this illness, also has damming effects to the body, as well. This does not mean only weight gain. But I am referring to the shrinkage, and damage to your central cortex. This can occur if taking certain medications daily, for many, many years. Additionally, 1 in 5 people who suffer from bipolar 1 disorder, will commit suicide, and that statistics doubles for people who have bipolar 2 disorder. Now, you may understand why it is so important for me to keep myself grounded, levelheaded, and away from any negativity.

But, you know what statistics also show? Statistics also show that people with bipolar disorder are more empathetic, more creative, and more talented than other individuals. Research says this is due to people with this disorder using their talents as an outlet of their mania. It kind of helps them speak externally. Carrie Fischer was one of my idols, who suffered from bipolar disorder. If you have time look up her interviews about the manic depressive disorder, which is also known as bipolar disorder.

I have recently found a new light, and I am trying to stay grounded and speak my truth. People have thanked me for telling my story, and I just want people to know that you are not alone. I thought I was alone, left in a very dark place for many years. You can make it, you can and will survive this. On a personal side note, I do take work and my work ethic seriously. Some call me a workaholic, but work feeds my mania. Where drugs, drinking, and social engagement feed other’s mania, work always fed mine. If my story can help someone, touch someone, save a life, make them smile, this is all worth it to me. If I can ultimately erase a statistic of suicide, then that is a life well worth living to me. This is not my journey alone. Yes, this is my story, but there are millions of people across the world that have and are currently suffering.

I found a quote that I’d like to share that I feel perfect grasps at what being Bipolar actually is minorly like, below.

“I have bipolar 2 disorder:

My moods change more often than the seasons, and with that my moods, my energy levels change also. I am either too up, or too down, but I am rarely in between. When I am down, I cannot just snap out of it. I cannot think positively to make it all go away. I can barely pull myself out of bed and into the shower. Being around people is just too hard. I do not always feel sad sometimes I feel nothing at all. It may seem like I am giving up, but this is when I am fighting my hardest, just to stay alive. When I am up, life is wonderful. Nothing can go wrong, and I have all the energy in the world. I want to go out, I want to DO, I want to accomplish. I am confident. I talk too fast, and I think too fast. And it bothers me when those around me cannot keep up. Sometimes I am irritable or snappy. I want things done my way. I want everything done at once. I am impulsive. I like being up more than being down, but I am down much, much more often. The hardest part of the disorder is that I never know when my mood will change. It is a rollercoaster, and it is exhausting to ride a rollercoaster every day of your life. I hide what I am going through in order to make you feel more comfortable, and I am tired. I did not ask for this any more than a person asks for cancer. I fight it every single day. I AM STRONGER THAN YOU KNOW”

I respect people who recognize that they have a mental illness, and/or take preventative maintenance, and take medication for it. That is the socially responsible thing to do. I feel people who do not take medication will ultimately blame their negative behaviors on their illness, and not take ownership, or responsibility. I take medications and I feel alright. Yes, I do not work as fast, and my thought processes have totally changed. But I am still the same person at the end of the day. I have no time for drama or negative people with the limited time I have in this world. You do you, and I will do me. However, the last thing anyone will pretend to be is better than anyone else. Because chances are people aren’t better than anyone else. God knows I am not. You are only as sick as your secrets, and I have none.

I will not be silenced because it may make one feel uncomfortable talking about a subject. Welcome to my life, and the 21st century.

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osmw1 · 5 years

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Dimension Wave Chapter 11 — The Second City

—Ilphy, The Second City

“So, are you the brother of Tsugumi?”

After the hunt, we went to the second city as it was close by. Then, while I was in the middle of splitting up today’s bounty, Shouko interjected with a ‘Perhaps, are you…’ about me and Tsugumi. It’s obvious, eh? Our names, I mean.

“Ah, yeah. She wasn’t a bother or anything to you, was she?” “Not at all. She is a spirited and wonderful girl. We might not have been able to unlock the city without her help in the fight. I cannot thank her enough.” “Oh, I’m glad then. When Tsugumi games, she can get a little carried away. We might meet her some time again, so don’t take it to heart if she rubs you the wrong way.”

I thought they just had fought together as allies, but apparently, they’re acquaintances. Shouko had seen her hunting quite a few times before, so maybe Tsugumi might know of Shouko as well.

Anyway, back to the items. If there’s no need or greed system in an MMO, then obviously, someone has to distribute the wealth to the party. There are even some games that randomly gives the items to each party member. Dimension Wave uses a system that I’m familiar with. But unfortunately, we didn’t get any rare items, so I just send her half of the bounty through the trade window.

“I apologize for putting you through all this trouble.” “Whatcha talkin’ about? I was totally relying on you in combat. This ain’t nothin’ in comparison.” “Well, then, you have my gratitude. This small fortune is all thanks to you.” “It’s worth partying up just to hear that from you.”

Thank you, gutting weapons. Speaking of which, as promised earlier, we decided to never mention anything about how the gutting weapons work. You never know who’s listening in. Still, for any other MMO, there would be strategy guides for FAQs online, so I’m sure it’s available somewhere already. But, don’t forget the “second life” aspect of Dimension Wave.

“Whatcha gonna do now, Shouko?” “Let me see. It has been two hours since, so I shall allocate my Mana then go out again. Would you care to join me?”

I had forgotten about it until she mentioned it. I always forget to spend my Mana. Lemme take a good look at my status since I so rarely open it up. Not to mention, Energy and Mana are both so important to us Spirits.

“Hmm… the sun’s setting soon, so is there a particular reason why you’re going?” “There is a place that is only available from eight—rather, from 20:00 till the morning. It is tremendously efficient, Energy-wise.” “I see… if you’re alright with me holding you back, then I’ll take up your offer.” “It would be my pleasure to go together.”

After a short break, we headed out for another hunt. Before I forget, I open up my status screen. It’d be a pain if I forget to use my Mana.

Name/ Kizuna†Exceed Race/ Spirit Energy/ 19,740 Mana/ 1,650 Serin/ 109,230

Skills/ Energy Production VIII, Mana Production V, Fishing Mastery IV, Gutting Mastery III, Transmutation I

Unlocked Skills/ Energy Production IX, Mana Production VI, Fishing Mastery V, Night Vision I, Helmsmanship I, Naval Combat I, Cleaver I, Speed Gutting I

I’ve got seven skills that I haven’t acquired yet. Helmsmanship and Naval Combat isn’t even worth my time looking at it. Night Vision does exactly what it says on the tin. It would be useful for fighting in the dark. I needed to be active for more than 24 hours at night to unlock it. The remaining two weren’t there yesterday, which means I unlocked them today. Let’s see what they do…

Cleaver I The basic offensive skill for gutting-type weapons. Deal additional damage when severing bones or joints. Consumes 50 Energy per use. Costs 200 Mana to acquire. Unlock requirement: Defeat 100 or more enemies with gutting-type weapons. Upgrade requirement: Defeat 500 or more enemies with gutting-type weapons.

Speed Gutting I A self-buff to gutting-type weapons. For a set duration, grants a self-buff to shorten the required time for gutting. Consumes 100 Energy per use. Costs 300 Mana to acquire. Unlock requirement: Gut 100 or more enemies with gutting-type weapons. Upgrade requirement: Gut 500 or more enemies with gutting-type weapons.

Looks like they’re both skills to be used in combat or out in action. Cleaver is obviously a combat skill and I could even say it’s necessary for battle. It’s always been Shouko activating offensive skills and using her Energy up. Gotta thank her for that later.

Back on topic, I need Speed Gutting too, don’t I? The biggest problem of today’s hunt was the downtime when I’m gutting. Shouko has no choice but to just loiter around. I’ve got no choice to do it considering the money we make from the items, so this skill will help us out, even if only a little. Of course, it’d be useful for solo play too since it would suck to get attacked in the middle of gutting. Yeah, this is necessary.

I acquire the two skills without any hesitation. Luckily, I don’t need to worry about getting both skills since they expend Energy each time they’re activated instead of being a constant Energy drain. It costed me a bit of Mana, but I don’t have enough for any other skills that I want right now anyway. Still, having Energy taking on the role of MP—like it says so in the manual—is pretty great.

I can use my skills as long as I have enough Energy. Having that said though, the less Energy I have, the less effective I would be. It’d be best to avoid recklessly burn my skills. We Spirits really do have to be cautious when in combat. According to Shouko’s experiences, every bit adds up and quickly makes you weaker. Having a large amount of Energy means a lot of HP, so not only would it be natural that we’d be good at tanking bosses, but also be very versatile because of our endurance and attack. The bad part is that we can only expend so much of it. That’s the one bottleneck of the system. Should you be thrifty with your Energy? Should you be extravagant? Well, that’s really the question, isn’t it?

“Now then, since we’re here at the second city, let’s fish at the river until it’s time.

“Sorry I’m late.”

I bumped into an acquaintance along the way and lost track of time. Of course, I already let Shouko know I was going to be a little late, but late is late.

“Oh, no problem at all. Did you run into problems?” “Nah, I ran into an acquaintance is all. I got her use her cooking skills for me though.”

It’s the same girl who I met through Alto. She told me to hit her up when I go fishing. I gave her three fish in exchange for her time cooking.

“A cook, is she?” “Yeah. Here, as an apology for being late. I’ve got sweetfish and trout, both salt-grilled. Which will it be?” “I shall have… the trout.”

After a brief moment of contemplation, Shouko received her trout. Though, sweetfish and trout are in season at fairly different times. Since this is a game, I guess time of year doesn’t matter when catching your freshwater fish. Anyway, putting that aside, I asked around for advice since we were going for a night battle.

“I asked around a little earlier, but is there anything we have to prepare for this? I’ve mentioned it already, but I don’t have much experience in fights. That means that I don’t know much about rules and stuff at whatever hunting ground.” “Right… well, I have brought our light source with me, so we shall be fine on that front. Oh, do you have a coat of some kind, Kizuna? It gets a little chilly at night, so it would not hurt to bring one along.”

While she’s speaking to me, Shouko clasps her hand together to thank me for the trout.

“A coat? No, I don’t have one, I’m afraid.” “In that case, would you like to use one of my old ones? It is a little worn down however. It does confer bonus resistance to cold and, according to current findings, that means it keeps the wearer warmer for longer.” “Can I really?” “Of course. Since I no longer wear it, it has simply been taking up space.”

Then, Shouko sends over a large kimono-style jacket via the chat window. It’s named the “Powder Snow Haori”. It grants a slight cold resistance effect as well as provides defense. Though it looks light, it’s actually got some heft to it. The coat might make me a little sluggish wearing it. I’ll only equip it when it’s cold then.

“Does it look okay on me, even though I’m wearing rather Western-looking clothes underneath?”

I put on the haori and ask for her thoughts. As I mentioned, I’m wearing a black dress called a “Geist Dress”. I chose it because it the simplest thing I could make with the best stats, though it looks quite gothic lolita.

It seems to be exclusive equipment for Spirits as well. The bonus effect on it lowers Energy damage taken. You can’t get effects like this with anything other than clothing, so it makes gutting weapons all the worse. Looking around, you’ll see guys in light armor with a short sword strapped to their hip. I’m sure one of the reasons why not many people use gutting weapons is because they don’t grant much defense. Well, you’d also likely use gutting weapons for crafting, so there’s another reason why.

“If I dare be frank, it fits you better than I had thought it would have. You have quite a fantastical feel to your style.” “Better than you’d thought…? But, thanks. I’ll take good care of it.”

Even if I don’t look good in it, the stats are too good to pass up on. That much is common in an MMORPG.

“Where are we going anyway? Well, not like I’ve been there before, but we might have a better time fighting if we knew what we’re up against.” “You have a point. We shall be going to the Forest of Eternal Darkness, somewhere that can only be accessed at night. Our main target shall be Darkness Lizardmen in there—”

To summarize her explanation, we’re going to a Darkness Lizardmen hot spot where we’ll do well farming Energy. However, the bastard sword–wielding Darkness Lizardmen are both strong in physical and magical attacks, so they’re not exactly easy either. That’s a reason why rarely do people ever step foot in the forest unless they properly spec their skills for it.

Normally, you’d need someone proficient in shields, but we’ve got high enough Energy levels. As well, not only can her folding fan can attack and defend, but it’s very effective at destroying the Darkness Lizardmen’s weapons. That’s why Shouko has chosen the Forest of Eternal Darkness. It makes for a great spot to farm and it’s even doable solo for her.

“Are you okay with me and my gutting weapons? I’ve been told that they’re not all that useful. I’m afraid I’d just be leeching off of you.”

Well, pretty much leeching off her now already, but still. I like to think that I do pretty good damage with my gutting weapons though.

“You still have that going for you. There is no way you would not be useful, Kizuna.” “I see, that, huh?”

Of course, she’s talking about gutting. Seeing how we’re going to somewhere not many go, the drops from the monsters there should fatten up our wallets a bit. I could even use Transmutation on it, so it’s not like I’ve got no choices either.

“Then I’ll be counting on you from here on out.” “Likewise to you.”

And then right after, in this very conspicuous spot, she bows deeply to me.

contents: /prologue/ /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /next/

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robmacz · 6 years

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The Business Trip of a Lifetime - Part 7

I didn’t get much sleep at all. The noise of the cellblock never completely stopped. In a city of steel cages, something is always clattering or coughing or suddenly exclaiming something. I wondered how many bunks had more than one man in them that night, and how many of the sounds came from those bunks. How much could the guards see from outside? The security lights were enough to keep anyone awake. . . But I did eventually drop off to sleep. Then the bell rang and I saw that light was streaming in from the tall narrow windows that were cut, every 30 feet or so, into the opposite wall. The windows were too thick with bars to allow you to see much, but it looked like a beautiful day. Only I was in HERE!

“You awake?” my cellmate said, banging on the underside of my bunk. He got up and walked across to the toilet. I say walked across, but it was more like stepped across, such was the proximity. He got his dick out and took a piss, then he sat down to take a shit. I rolled over to look at the wall as I listened to him dropping his load into the bowl. Then quickly, as he seemed to have a routine, he was washed and shaved and putting on his uniform. “Your turn, cellie,” he said. “And hurry up. Count starts in a couple of minutes.” I managed to take a piss and then washed, using the hard brown soap and the tiny rag of cloth I found by the sink. But I couldn’t shit in front of him. I knew I would have to eventually, but right now it wasn’t going to happen.

As I fastened up my uniform, I heard the bell, this time short and sharp. I heard men in the nearby cells move to the bars, as did my cellmate. As happened the previous night, a guard walked down each tier and counted the number of inmates in each cell. I’m not sure where they thought they might have gone between last night and this morning. This wasn’t a prison film; there was nowhere anyone could escape to. Each of the guards then called in his numbers, and if the count was correct this was followed by a series of loud buzzers and the huge noise of the cell doors on each balcony grinding open. It was like hundreds of iron junk heaps had been set in motion all at once. Each of those piles of junk was a cage for two men.

It was startling to see the bars of our cage starting to slide open. Controlled from some distant point, the steel wall that confined us parted with the kind of slow, reluctant motion that made you wonder, automatically, “What if some day they can’t get them open?” There were convicts marching past us in their striped uniforms. Anybody looks scary in stripes. Except me. I knew that I looked like a clown. “Follow me,” my cellmate said, and I followed him into the black and white army.

As we walked along the tier and down the three flights of steel stairs, no one said anything. There were guards placed at strategic points with their batons in hand, and guards with rifles looking down from a perch up above. There was also, obviously, a rule of silence on the march. The only sound was the clomp of those heavy boots we had to wear.

Once we were on the ground floor we were channeled to the mess hall. This was like being at school and going to the canteen—with a few important differences. The first was the size of the place. It was massive, half the size of a football field, with a roof as high as the Royal Albert Hall. Second, everyone looked exactly the same. Same clothes – black and white stripes. Same hair style – bald. Third, everyone got the same food; there was no choice at this canteen.

I didn’t quite know what it was, it looked disgusting. I followed my cellmate through the process, getting a tray – not a normal tray that you use to carry plates, but a steel tray split into sections. As we queued up to be given our food I could see why. There were no plates. The slop that was called food – chow, as I soon realized it was called inside – was just dropped directly into the tray. You passed through the line—quick, no reason to stop—and a convict dumped something onto your steel substitute for a table setting. Then another convict dumped something else. At the end of the line I followed my cellmate to the table allotted to our bit of the tier—a long steel table with twelve backless steel stools for the occupants of the four cells immediately to the left of ours and the one immediately to the right.

This was not a table constructed for conversation. We all faced one way, so that the guards with rifles in the little balcony above would be able to see at one glance what our hands were doing. But JR quickly introduced me to the others. Most had been resident for a while, but one was a new boy like me. I didn’t recognize him at first, but he was the young DUI guy who had been on the bus to the pen with me. It turned out that his name was Paul. He was bald now, and looked completely different from the hot young guy I had seen earlier. And yet, there was still something horny about him. I felt my dick begin to twitch again.

We were not long in the mess hall. A leisurely breakfast was not something they went in for here. As soon as we could be expected to scarf down the “food” we were marched out into the yard. The sun was getting up and you could tell that it would be a hot day. As usual I followed my cellmate, but one of the guards pulled me aside. Paul was culled from the herd too, as were a number of other guys. It was soon apparent that we were the new boys. The rest of the population lined up in groups.

The group of new boys were each given a card stating their labor detail and told to join the appropriately numbered line in the yard. Both Paul and I were given Cleaning Services – whatever that meant. And this was line 2. We joined the line and were marched off to begin our day’s labor.

It turns out that Cleaning Services means scrubbing floors, washing down walls, cleaning windows, etc. So essentially I had gone from being an executive in a nice suit to a cleaner in prison stripes. What a come down! No more people to boss around, no more expensive lunches and dinners, no more fancy clothes and nice shoes. I was now one of those people you hardly notice, the ones who come and empty your bin when you are working late at the office, or one of those who clean the office bathroom several times a day. You see these guys around, but you don’t notice their faces, you don’t see them as people. I was now one of those guys. Even worse, I was a convict.

Paul and I were sent, with five or six other guys, to scrub down the floor of the mess hall. No mops, just buckets and brushes. This was back breaking work, squatting and crawling and reaching. I’d never done so much physical labor. But having said that, there was an honesty to this work. It was a job that needed doing. Not like the business world I had hitherto inhabited, where there was a lot of pointless stuff that I ended up doing with no real purpose. This was simple. The purpose was to have a clean floor, and that was what we were doing.

It also gave me a chance to get to know Paul better. He was still in a mess, and even though Prison had been a shock to my system, I think I was holding up better than he was. He told me that he should have been back in college this week, but he had now lost his place and thought he had ruined his life, At least that’s what his dad had told him. His girlfriend had also dumped him. She had come from a well to do family and she could not be seen visiting a state penitentiary. She would go back to college with the other rich kids and laugh about him in prison. Then they would forget about him.

“So what do you care?” I said. “If they think that little of you they aren’t worth having as friends anyway.” He nodded, but he knew he had thrown away his dreams of a college education and would now end up in some dead end job once he got out of here. If, in view of what J R told me, he ever got out. “Who will employ an ex-con?” he asked.

That hit me. I hadn’t thought about what would happen when I got out. Naturally, I’d be fired right away from my current job, as soon as my boss figured out what had happened. I imagined what the reaction would be, and I winced. And would having a record in the States get picked up by the authorities in Britain? Of course it would. Then would I have to declare that I had been in prison? If so, I would have to start thinking about a very different career to the one I’d had. But perhaps that would not be a bad thing. After all, I didn’t like my job.

As soon as I thought that, I added, “What the hell! I’m already thinking like a convict!” And yeah, it was bewildering. The change from what I had been in the UK to what I was right now. The change from suit to stripes. The change from colleague to cellmate. The change from, “Yes, my job is good. It pays well, and it’s appropriate to my skills. I’m getting on well enough, thank you” to “I didn’t like my job.” Actually, I hated my job. Worse than I hated squatting on the floor of the penitentiary and trying to wash it off. When my new cellmate talked about a sentence of Life, I wondered which one he meant.

We finished cleaning the mess hall at just after 10:00 and started on the guards’ mess room. “Hey boy; you missed a spot” was heard, and we tried to clean that spot. Once finished there we were lined up again for a roll call, out in the yard. Then it was back to the mess hall for lunch – more slop, but as I sat at the table I began to feel one of the guys—one of the guys in the Cleaning detail. I was less nervous than at breakfast and the routine of the day seemed easy to follow. Just as I started to relax the bell went again and we were back to work.

The afternoon consisted of cleaning the guards’ changing room and toilet facilities. Not a nice task, and the guards overseeing us were especially keen that we did a good job, much more than when cleaning an area for prisoners.

About 3:00 a guard stomped in and gave me a card that had LAUNDRY printed across the top and then my number stamped on it and the current time. He gave one to Paul as well. “Be back on the yard by 4 o’clock and report for Count. Move it.”

We wandered for a while, not knowing where the Laundry was, then finally got enough courage to ask another convict – fuck! there it was again--“another” convict; I was a convict now myself! – to show us where it was. He pointed to a squat, ugly building with a peaked roof and a pair of big steel doors, like the mess hall. Inside was a long hallway, with deep scuff marks on the floor, as if thousands of boots had been waiting there impatiently. There was a counter at the end of the hallway with steel bars closed across it and a sign above saying WAIT HERE. I had plenty of time to wonder why we were there and whether it had anything to do with JR, who’d told me that this is where he worked. And sure enough, when the bars opened, the face I saw was JR’s.

(JR continues:)

I don’t mind working the Laundry detail. You wouldn’t either, if you didn’t mind spending your days watching dirty stripes turn into wet stripes turn into dry stripes turn into stripes packaged for pickup. If there’s anything that says Prison, it’s the stripes we’ve gotta wear. When I was on the Outside, I never really knew whether I was fitting in. A lotta gay boys feel like that—LOL! But now I did fit in. I was wearing stripes, so I was a convict, same as everybody else. You wanta fit in, kid—go to the Pen! Also, it gives you a sense of order. Six days a week, a gang of us go out and pick up the laundry bags that the cons hang from their cages. You’ve got your number on your laundry bag; you’ve got your number on every jumpsuit, sock, or pair of shorts inside it; your outfit’s not gettin lost. You’re not gonna escape from your stripes. So after we’ve washed em, we sort em and bag em, and once a week, on pickup day, you line up right here and you get em back.

You see what I mean—it’s a sense of order. You’re issued three outfits, total. And let’s say your laundry day is Monday. You put two outfits in the bag and you’re wearing the third one. Then on pickup day, which in your case would be Wednesday, you come to the window and you grab your bag. You’re pretty well taken care of. And I’m pretty well taken care of too. True, I’m not dressed up in two-thousand-dollar clothes, the way I used to be; this suit I’ve got on, it costs the state about ten. But I’m not here to drag in business for the firm, the way I used to be. Which means that I don’t have to make up a new business plan every three months. Which means that I can’t get fired. Which means that I can’t get out. OK, not a bad bargain.

And right now, I’m feelin like it might be a pretty good one, if my new cellie turns out to be as hot as I think he is. I mean, as hot as I think he could be. He’s still stumblin around like a new colt. But he might shape up. And hey, why do you think I caught desk assignment today? Because the new fish have to come in and pick up the rest of their outfits, and my cellie’s a fish, so I wanted to be on the spot. Help him out. Give him some encouragement, you know. I seem to remember stamping his card for 3:00. Which means he might have found the way to the Laundry . . . right about 15 minutes before now.

So I open the bars and, yeah, there he is. Standin exactly the way I expected—like, Am I in the right place? Why isn’t this counter OPEN? What’s the MATTER with these people? He’s got that Outside look all over him. Pretty funny. I was expecting another dude too, and there he is. Lookin a lot less keyed up. Lookin pretty hot, actually. Sad and confused, but hot. My cellie, I know he’s gay. This one—not so sure.

“Complaint Department,” I say, just to beat down that serve-me-first look on the cellie’s face. “But I’ll bet you’re wondering why you’re here, fish.”

“Uh, yes, I mean . . . yeah,” Mike says, not knowing whether to cop an attitude or not. I mean, I only let him stand there for about 15.

“This,” I say, “is where you are issued the rest of your uniforms: two jumpsuits, two shorts, two tees, two pairs of socks, one cap, one laundry bag. You get your coats when it gets cold. Gimmee your cards, I’ll find your shit for you.” Then I banged the counter shut.

Of course, I let them stand there for another 15. Then I opened up again and threw their laundry bags at em. “Here’s your shit. Don’t worry—it’s all numbered. Won’t get away from you. Or vice versa. Any questions, you can ask your cellie. Now go to the yard and report for count. Here’s your cards; I stamped em.”

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theonyxpath · 6 years

Link

Yes, I’d say the creation of the 2nd Edition of Scion has taken the most thought (and Thoth) of any of our projects to date.

From the years spent iterating the Storypath System that powers Scion, to the years and years we and the Scion community dissected and recombined the first edition rules and setting, to the extensive amount of care the writers and developer Neall Raemonn Price have put into improving first edition in every way they could.

Like the Netjer (Egyptian) pantheon pictured above, all the pantheons have been researched and re-researched and run past experts in the myths and cultures they represent. You don’t in any way need a doctorate to use and enjoy them in your game, but now they more accurately reflect our current understanding of the gods and their cohorts.

Neall goes into this in his interview with Eddy and Dixie on last Friday’s Onyx Pathcast, and it is well worth your time to check it out if you’re a Scion fan. He goes into his thinking on Scion, as well as some of the often torturous steps we have had to take to get the first two game books created. If you’re not a Scion fan, he also reveals how Beckett’s Jyhad Diary was developed and written, and so basically, it’s a great overview of how RPG books are created.

You can check it out on your favorite podcast venue or directly on PodBean here: https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

This Friday on the Onyx Pathcast, the Wraith Curse rears its ugly head, and the gang have to recreate an entire episode where they only mention Wraith in discussing TTRPGs and how they affect our non-game lives. Listen in to find out how the Wraith Curse manifests this time!

Dragon-Blooded art by Yiyoung Li

Now for myself, I too have thought a lot about Scion. From green-lighting the first edition and realizing that without something wahoo going on, the sales distribution system was going to under-order Scion: Hero, (“We need new games to sell!” “Here’s a new one we made.” “Wah? It’s new and has no sales history, how can we order that?”), to getting a copy of the book put into every retailer bag at that year’s GAMA trade show. Retailers who then ordered the game in such amounts that we had to do a second print pretty much before the book hit stores!

I’ve thought a lot about the dedication of the Scion community during the (very) lean years when almost nothing new came out, yet WW‘s old Scion forums were still getting more posts than entire other gaming websites. I read your posts you magnificent bastards, and incorporated that thinking into what we needed to do to elevate Scion for second edition.

I’ve ground my teeth in frustration during the time Storypath was iterating and while Scion: Origin and Scion: Hero have been incubating, and thought long and hard about the iterations and improvements that slowed things down. Were they worth it?

Well, the answer is yes, as far as I can see. Storypath is the simple base 10-sided pool system that can be expanded depending on your table’s interest in more shared storytelling that I hoped for. It is so flexible that we can add tweaks to it to emulate a post-apocalyptic scarcity game with zombies in Dystopia Rising: Evolution, and reflexive and meta humor mechanics in They Came From Beneath the Sea!.

And it enables play from man on the street to god levels of power for Scion and the Trinity Continuum.

VtR2 Guide to the Night art by Sam Araya

Scion has a built-in setting now, with the World, yet it is so designed that you can pull back on that and keep the god stuff hidden, or dial it to 11 and make the presence of the gods even more impactful on our normal world. I thought about whether adding the World was the right way to go – and had probably far more discussions with Neall than he wanted to have about it – but in the end, I think the default setting combined with the very easy options to alter that if you so choose hits the right spot.

It’s there and it’s rich and deep with history, but still open enough that your characters matter. Which is a big part of Scion, as I see it.

And one more thing that I’ve thought about A LOT, and have mentioned before, is that to me Scion is just getting started. The 4 book core of Origin, Hero, Demigod, and God is really the central spine of the possible ways Scion can be played. There’s the “Children of the Gods in Modern Times” that defines that spine, and we can provide a lot more projects that help build on that. We already have the Companion, Jumpstart, Ready Made Characters, and Bestiary being worked on.

But let’s change that to “Children of ____ in Modern Times”, or “Children of the Gods in _____ Times”, and we open up a huge range of possibilities if we start filling in those blanks!

Whew! I get pretty fired up thinking about all that.

Now, on to the Notes from our Monday Meeting today! We talked about:

1- We are all over the place online right now! It’s great! On this Tuesday night at 6pm Pacific US time, Pugmire: Homeward Bound begins on the Saving Throw Show Twitch channel. Here’s the intro video (it is amazing and beautiful!): youtu.be/qMpNHXjbZK8

And the link to their Twitch channel: twitch.tv/savingthrowshow

2- I did a wee little interview that surprisingly covered all sorts of Onyx Path and classic White Wolf stories and yet did not go into my love of pudding. Why is that surprising? Because the podcast interview was for Everybody Loves Pudding, and I was lured into this because I thought I’d be able to expound on the virtues and wonders of pudding. But, even without the pudding, it’s a pretty good chat – the guys were very on target with the questions. Not sure if you can say the same about my answers, but judge for yourself: http://www.everybodylovespudding.com/podcast/season-1-episode-22/

3- Eddy Webb is flying up to my neck of the woods and we’ll be going together to Save Against Fear, the convention that benefits the Bodhana Group, whose mission is to use tabletop gaming in their therapeutic efforts. Links are below in the Convention News section of The Blurbs, but we recently added that I’ll be there on Saturday signing Magic Cards and working on some artist proof sketches. So if you are near there and want your cards signed and to help a great group – come on by and meet me and Eddy!

4- On a related topic, Monica Valentinelli is working with Extra Life on a fundraiser where she’s playing D&D5e to help sick kids. Onyx Path has donated Scarred Lands PDF rewards at various levels of contribution, so here’s your chance to help a super cause and dig into Scarred Lands! https://www.extra-life.org/index.cfm?fuseaction=donorDrive.participant&participantID=326323

M20 Gods and Monsters art by Claudio Pozas

5- If you missed the Prince’s Gambit casual Vampire card game by Justin Achilli Kickstarter campaign, we have copies of the card set available to buy from Studio2 and your local retailer, see below, and the basic set and booster pack will go on sale on Wednesday from DriveThru. The retail card set is all the cards from the Kickstarter in one box, and the DriveThru cards take all the cards and divide them into a basic set, and then the added cards from the KS in a booster pack. And, because we are asked this, Prince’s Gambit is a different type of game than VTES, it is not VTES, was not intended to replace VTES, and lots of us here are VTES fans and glad that new VTES cards are being made.

6- Finally, we have a fantastic sale going on at IPR for our Deluxe and Prestige books from our Kickstarter print-run overruns! Half off until the end of October, it’s our HalfoWeen Sale! The Mummy: The Curse Prestige Editions have sold out as of this writing, which means there are no more of them available for sale anywhere in the world! (Except EBAY, I’m sure. But other than that…)

I’m not finding a clever way to lead in to out tag-line this time, no wait, I just did. Damn:

Many Worlds, One Path!

BLURBS!

KICKSTARTER:

Lo the darkness that lies like a pall over Chicago. The V5 Chicago By Night Kickstarter arises in October!

We’re also working on the Kickstarter for They Came From Beneath the Sea! (TCFBtS!), which has some very different additions to the Storypath mechanics we’ll be explaining during the KS. They take an excellent 50’s action and investigation genre game and turn it to 11!

ELECTRONIC GAMING:

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is now live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is both rolling and rocking!

Here are the links for the Apple and Android versions:

http://theappstore.site/app/1296692067/onyx-dice

https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.onyxpathpublishing.onyxdice&hl=en

Three different screenshots, above.

And our latest, the dice for Werewolf: The Forsaken 2e:

ON AMAZON AND BARNES & NOBLE:

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue you bought it from. Reviews really, really help us with getting folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these fiction books:

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Endless Ages Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Rites of Renown: When Will You Rage II (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Ascension: Truth Beyond Paradox (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: The God-Machine Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Curse of the Blue Nile (Kindle, Nook)

Beast: The Primordial: The Primordial Feast Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Masquerade: Of Predators and Prey: The Hunters Hunted II Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: The Poison Tree (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: Songs of the Sun and Moon: Tales of the Changing Breeds (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: The Strix Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Forsaken: The Idigam Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Mage: The Awakening: The Fallen World Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Masquerade: The Beast Within Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Werewolf: The Apocalypse: W20 Cookbook (Kindle, Nook)

Exalted: Tales from the Age of Sorrows (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Tales of the Dark Eras (Kindle, Nook)

Promethean: The Created: The Firestorm Chronicle Anthology (Kindle, Nook)

Demon: The Descent: Demon: Interface (Kindle, Nook)

Scarred Lands: Death in the Walled Warren (Kindle, Nook)

V20 Dark Ages: Cainite Conspiracies (Kindle, Nook)

Chronicles of Darkness: Strangeness in the Proportion (Kindle, Nook)

Vampire: The Requiem: Silent Knife (Kindle, Nook)

Mummy: The Curse: Dawn of Heresies (Kindle, Nook)

OUR SALES PARTNERS:

We’re working with Studio2 to get Pugmire out into stores, as well as to individuals through their online store. You can pick up the traditionally printed main book, the Screen, and the official Pugmire dice through our friends there!

https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

And we’ve added Prince’s Gambit to our Studio2 catalog: https://studio2publishing.com/products/prince-s-gambit-card-game

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

Here’s the link to the press release we put out about how Onyx Path is now selling through Indie Press Revolution: http://theonyxpath.com/press-release-onyx-path-limited-editions-now-available-through-indie-press-revolution/

And you can now order Pugmire: the book, the screen, and the dice! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/manufacturers.php?manufacturerid=296

DRIVETHRURPG.COM:

The Prince’s Gambit basic card set and the added cards from the PG Kickstarter booster pack will both be available on DriveThru this Wednesday!

CONVENTIONS!

From Fast Eddy Webb, we have these:

Eddy will also be a featured guest (and RichT will be there at some point, too) at Save Against Fear (October 12-14) in Harrisburg, PA. He’ll be running some Pugmire games, be available for autographs, and will sometimes accept free drinks. http://www.thebodhanagroup.org/about-the-convention

Dixie Cochran will be at High Level Games Con in Atlantic City October 12-14, running a Women in Game Design panel, Eddy’s RPG Developer Bootcamp, and possibly making a surprise appearance at another event!

And now, the new project status updates!

DEVELOPMENT STATUS FROM FAST EDDY WEBB (projects in bold have changed status since last week):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep)

C20 Novel (Jackie Cassada) (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 The Technocracy Reloaded (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Tales of Excellent Cats (Monarchies of Mau)

Scion Companion: Mysteries of the World (Scion 2nd Edition)

City of the Towered Tombs (Cavaliers of Mars)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Scion Ready Made Characters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion Jumpstart (Scion 2nd Edition)

Geist2e Fiction Anthology (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Memento Mori: the GtSE 2e Companion (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2nd Edition)

Pirates of Pugmire (Realms of Pugmire)

Redlines

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Night Horrors: Nameless and Accursed (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Witch-Queen of the Shadowed Citadel (Cavaliers of Mars)

Second Draft

Tales of Good Dogs – Pugmire Fiction Anthology (Pugmire)

Oak, Ash, and Thorn: Changeling: The Lost 2nd Companion (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

CofD Dark Eras 2 (Chronicles of Darkness)

Development

Hunter: the Vigil 2e core (Hunter: the Vigil 2nd Edition)

CofD Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

Dystopia Rising: Evolution (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

Night Horrors: Shunned by the Moon (Werewolf: The Forsaken 2nd Edition)

Adventures for Curious Cats (Monarchies of Mau)

M20 Book of the Fallen (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Spilled Blood (Vampire: The Requiem 2nd Edition)

In Media Res (Trinity Continuum: Core)

WoD Ghost Hunters (World of Darkness)

Wr20 Book of Oblivion (Wraith: The Oblivion 20th Anniversary Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

V5 Chicago By Night (Vampire: The Masquerade)

Manuscript Approval:

Aeon Aexpansion (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

C20 Players’ Guide (Changeling: the Dreaming 20th Anniversary Edition)

Editing:

Signs of Sorcery (Mage: the Awakening Second Edition)

Post-Editing Development:

Trinity Continuum Core Rulebook (The Trinity Continuum)

Trinity Continuum: Aeon Rulebook (The Trinity Continuum)

Ex Novel 2 (Aaron Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Exalted 3rd Novel by Matt Forbeck (Exalted 3rd Edition)

They Came From Beneath the Sea! Rulebook (TCFBtS!)

Dog and Cat Ready Made Characters (Monarchies of Mau) (With Eddy)

Changeling: The Lost 2nd Jumpstart (Changeling: The Lost 2nd)

Indexing:

ART DIRECTION FROM MIRTHFUL MIKE:

In Art Direction

Dystopia Rising: Evolution

M20: Gods and Monsters – AD’d and Contracted.

Geist 2e

The Realm

Trinity Continuum (Aeon and Core) – Tracking down Core finals and going over Aeon Sketches.

Ex3 Monthly Stuff

Chicago By Night – KS art finals in.

Pugmire Roll of Good Dogs and Cats

C20 Player’s Guide

Aeon Aexpansion

They Came From Beneath the Sea! – Got KS artnotes out.

Marketing Stuff

In Layout

Trinity Core – Working on symbols this week.

Trinity Aeon – Fancying up my Opnet images.

Ex3 Dragon Blooded

Proofing

Scion Hero – Inputting Neal’s 2nd proof changes.

PTC: Night Horrors: The Tormented – KT has Steffie’s corrections in.

Scion Origin – Doing Neall’s errata changes, and swapping out the font.

VtR: Guide to the Night – Danielle is getting me her p.xx stuff on Monday and I’ll be wrapping this one up for approval by WW shortly thereafter.

Fetch Quest – Package design done

At Press

Monarchies of Mau and Screen – At Studio2. Dice and buttons getting ready to ship to Studio2.

Cavaliers of Mars – Backer copies all shipped out.

Wraith 20th – Printing the Deluxe interior, proofing cover.

Wraith 20 Screen – Printing.

Scion Dice – At Studio2.

Cav Talent cards – PoD proof coming.

Lost 2e Screen – Prepping files.

Scion Screen – Prepping files.

Prince’s Gambit core deck and booster PoD – On sale at DriveThru on Wednesday!

Changeling: The Lost 2e – Prepping files for printer.

TODAY’S REASON TO CELEBRATE: OK, celebrate this one or don’t as you see fit. I know a lot of my South Philly buddies do and will. All I know is today I didn’t get my new fancy brush recommended by Jeff Miracola today because no mail on the Monday holiday. And the last kid has off from school, so I get to hear him shouting at his friends as they multi-play a shooter. Some holiday.

#Onyx Path Publishing

6 notes · View notes

kyndaris · 6 years

Text

Oscillating between Stories

When it was first announced, I knew then and there that Nintendo Switch would be sitting proudly in front of my television. From the publisher that had tickled my fascination with games, I knew that it would be a delight to explore the diverging stories of Octopath Traveler. As news continued to trickle through, my excitement increased until finally I had into it in my hands. For one terrifying moment, I thought that it had been sold out at the JB Hi-Fi close to my workplace. Fortunately, luck was on my side and I returned home to slot the game in place.

Like many Japanese role-playing games of old, Octopath Travler uses a turn-based battle system. From the developers that brought gamers the likes of Bravely Default, it was hardly a surprise that there were barely any changes to the formula that has persisted for all these years. Octopath Traveler, however still managed to bring its own unique twist to the genre: a shield and weakness system. While it took some time to adjust to the new set of rules, I was able to quickly understand the mechanics and used it to my advantage. Breaking enemies became a regular occurrence as it offered up opportunities to deal critical damage as well as stun foes. In fact, it became an integral part to any strategy – particularly against bosses.

The soundtrack also proved to be a highlight, drawing on my memories from older titles in the Final Fantasy franchise. There was one instance when I was sure that a melody had been directly taken from the music I knew and loved, but it was still a thrill to listen to the new arrangements and compositions.

But the real stars of Octopath Traveler are the characters.

At the start of the game you are presented with eight unique stories and a choice. It took some time but I finally settled on Alfyn, the apothecary. While his story was fairly simple, it was tightly focused on his own self-discovery and what it meant to be a healer. I liked how Alfyn’s arc explored whether or not every life was worth living. It was a moral quandary that was reminiscent from Vampyr. In the end, Alfyn was able to find his own answer. Holding tight to the belief that had set him on the very path of becoming an apothecary: endeavouring to assist any and all that are in need.

Yet Octopath Traveler was not satisfied to simply allow players to finish only one story. There were seven others waiting in the wings and in my playthrough, it became a joy to recruit all of the other characters as I explored the world.

The next on my list was the surly thief Therion. Betrayed by his partner of old, Therion continued to ply his trade in the city of Boulderfall until he encountered a challenge he simply could not refuse. Stealthily, he infiltrated the local manor in the search for riches. But it was not to be. Caught and harangued into a deal, he was tasked to retrieve the precious heirlooms of the Ravus family. Suffice it to say, Therion’s arc involved rediscovering the ability to trust others and settling the matters of his past in a nice tidy bow before he set off for greener pastures.

Third came Primrose, the dancer. Her story proved to be quite intriguing. After suffering through countless setbacks and indignities, she managed to uncover a clue leading to the three individuals that murdered her father. Though somewhat cliché, I was enthralled from beginning to end as I tracked down all that had been involved – one of them having also been revealed to be Primrose’s childhood sweetheart. As with every story of revenge, it followed all the familiar story beats one encounters in such tales. Still, here’s hoping that the spark of hope as the arc came to close might be explored in a potential sequel.

H’aanit the hunter was the fourth character to join my motley crew. Skilled at hunting down the beasts and monsters of the world, she sets out on a quest to find her old master (and father figure) after he goes missing. However, their reunion proves to be less than happy. Turned to stone, he leaves a cryptic message to find an old seer. Once she does, she sets out to slay the monster, Redeye, as the only way to lift the curse of petrification. All the while, speaking in a mixture of Middle English and our current vernacular, with the suffix ‘en’ added to every second word.

Ophilia’s journey as the Flamebearer also proved an enjoyable diversion. When her adopted father falls ill, she takes up the mantle of Flambearer instead of her sister, Lianna. Her kindness and selfless nature served as a balm to some of the other stories with its uplifting message of sisterly love. It also helped serve as a case study on how different people handle and process grief.

Nearing the end, I followed the map clockwise and headed towards Atlasdam where Cyrus, the clueless scholar, resided. Taking the role of an investigator, Cyrus was quick to invoke my sympathies towards a Mr Holmes. Although a purveyor of knowledge, Cyrus lacked understanding in the ways of the heart. Still, it was fun to see the great professor bumbling through the confusing mess that is the realm of romance. And trampling over the young heart of his young student, Therese. Still, it was nice to see a game provide commentary on how knowledge should be handled.

Any merchant worth their salt understands the importance of supply and demand. Tressa’s story, however, allowed me see beyond the cold transactions of the everyday. Surprisingly, her path echoed the beats of most generic heroes in role playing games. In fact, inspired by the words of a journal that was gifted to her, she sets out on an adventure to see the world. By the time her journey ends, Tressa has become all the richer, not through coin, but by the experiences and people she has met along the way. This comes full circle when she passes the torch to another hopeful before returning home well-satisfied by her personal ‘treasure.’

Last but not least was Olberic. Having lost both monarch and kingdom to treachery, this mighty swordsman goes on a journey to discover why he wields the sword. Encountering the man that slew his king, he nonetheless stays his hand after a gripping duel and sets his eyes on the true mastermind behind it all. With his purpose renewed, he returns to the village that has become his second home – now able to move on from his past.

While the stories were all fascinating in their own right, like many of the reviewers out there, I was disappointed that they played out as stand-alone experiences for each character rather than being interwoven into a greater narrative. Though they might be members of the same party, none of the other characters participate in the cutscenes except in optional travel banter. These helped flesh out the relationships between them but ultimately left me craving more. I would have also liked Alfyn and Ophilia to find love, but once again my ship was thwarted as the two stated that they were more brother and sister.

Further research on the internet and one YouTube video later, I discovered that all of the individual stories were connected to a grander world-saving plot. However, after watching Journey’s End on YouTube, I was left feeling somewhat deflated about the true ending. Throughout my playthrough, I was able to construct a rough idea about the greater and far reaching threat of the sealed God Galdera from the hints scattered in each of the eight tales, ultimately, it felt as if Ophilia, Cyrus, Tress, Olberic, Primrose, Alfyn, Therion and H’aanit were bit players in another’s story. Namely, Graham Crossford and his son.

Disappointed, I left the end-game side missions alone. Besides, I had already sunk my seventy hours. Spiderman and Shadow of the Tomb Raider were already lurking on the horizon and my backlog was not going to finish itself.

One does have to wonder, though, that perhaps I should consider how I portion out my time. With a full-time job, it has become much harder to finish games. Instead of playing lengthy role-playing games that are my usual bread and butter, I could put that energy into other pursuits…

Nah. That’s never going to happen.

As my favourite NPC was wont to say: I am a one-woman army! Here’s to playing another hundred or so hours in the next rollicking open world. Come at me Assassin’s Creed Odyssey!

#octopath traveler #video games

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barbaramoorersm · 5 years

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November 11, 2018

1 Kings 17: 10-16

In this reading we hear of a widow’s plight, and a prophet’s help.

Hebrews 9: 24-28

This reading points to Jesus’ second coming.

Mark 12: 38-44

Today we hear about another widow who “contributed all she had” to the Temple treasury.

This weekend we remember the end of World War I one hundred years ago. It was such a deadly war with a great loss of lives and the resulting painful struggle many women experienced; widowhood. No social security benefits helped them. So too, when we turn to the Old Testament, we learn that ancient religious leaders called for care for the widow and orphan. They too, in ancient times, faced great hardship and dependence when a parent or husband was killed or died.

In Mark’s Gospel, in just a few verses, we hear three stories strung together. Jesus is teaching in the Temple. This says to me how he valued his faith and how comfortable he was teaching in this holy place. He asked his listeners to be observant. First of the religious leaders, secondly, he urged them to observe the crowds and thirdly, to look at a poor widow.

First, he said, “Beware of the scribes….” That is such a harsh word to use about their respected religious leaders. “Beware!” Why, because of what they appeared to value. Externals. They valued not only the assurance of places of honor, but also their external robes that set them apart. Jesus was saying they were hypocrites. They kept their rules but “devoured the houses of widows”. Now, in addition to the word “beware”, Jesus also uses the word “devour”. They devoured houses of widows, or in a sense “ate” them or “took advantage” of them on some level. Their words and actions did not match. To “devour” a widow’s home is a powerful concept because so many of them had so little. I wonder of Jesus understood this reality because it appears his mother was a widow at this point in his life. And so, in this first story, we are warned about external actions that do not match the call of God. We might ask ourselves if our values and actions as well as our words match these days, when so many feel “devoured” by some systems?

Then Jesus moves to a second story and turns to the crowd. “He sat down opposite the treasury…”. One could see what folks contributed but also one could hear the coins clatter on the reception plates. Many wealthy gave large sums. One could see it and hear it! Now, generosity is wonderful, and these days we are fortunate to have many wealthy men and women give of their fortunes for very worthy causes. But one senses today, from what Jesus was saying, that observing and hearing were important results some donors desired.

Thirdly, as Jesus was watching, a “poor widow also came and put in two small coins worth a few cents”. Somehow Jesus knew she was a widow. She came alone with a small donation. It appears that the wealthy got in line first. Then, we have a startling statement shared by Jesus Christ. “She put in more than all the other contributors to the treasury”. Think of that teaching! He added, that they gave from “their surplus” and she “from her poverty”. �� I was struck by his next statement. This comment brings us back to his first story. She, “contributed all she had…”. I asked myself, “Was she a widow whose house had been devoured by her religious leaders”? Or was she a widow who now was allowing her “house to be devoured”?

She was in no position to give anything, but she did. I wonder if she was bullied into the action. Did she think her salvation was at stake? In other words, was “fear” being used? I do not know, but something moved her to this point. Faith or fear or both. How was she to take care of herself down the road? As we reflect on our own lives and our present culture, we might ask which power moves us? Faith or fear?

What are the lessons this Gospel shares?

This poor widow is an example of “the last becoming first”. She is an example of what has been called, “the upside-down kingdom”. She is an ancient example of the current poor women and children trying to get to our country for sanctuary. She is a reminder of how often the poor are ignored, taken for granted or abused. Her decision to me seems foolhardy, but I do not know her reasons and should not judge her. I however, can conclude what Jesus values and observes.

He observes the religious leaders, the wealthy and one poor widow and comments.

What does he have to say about us these days?

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gilly-psycho-journal · 3 years

Link

This might be a wise place to remind you that the opinions expressed in these blogs are not necessarily representative of WCC and they are not given on behalf of the organisation.

Without further ado here is David Gill’s wonderfully erudite and entertaining responses. Please enjoy!

LD: Why and when did you decide to become a counsellor? DG: After I left Afghanistan and closed the door on my life as a social documentary filmmaker and photographer, I realised that I was still looking to find a way to continue to engage with humanity. To listen and to learn from people. I was looking for a fresh challenge. Three years ago, I had a germ of an idea about wanting to be a therapist. If you’d asked me to give you an answer as to why I wanted to do this, it would probably be much different to the answer I’d give you right now and probably different in another three years. I suppose like everything it depends on who is asking and what I think they want to hear.

Having spent three years in the academic system, I still hold the opinion, despite the over-medicalisation of therapy, that this vocation has room for creative individuals and free thinkers. This optimism is based on delving into the lives of its originators such as Rogers, Freud, Klein, Adler and Ellis and it’s more weird and wonderful leftfield luminaries such as Jung and RD Laing. One thing that struck me about all of these people and what kept me going was that every single one of them at some point was regarded as frauds, charlatans, quacks, counter-culture renegades or just plain bonkers. To a man (and the odd woman) they were all rule-breakers, all of them questioned and challenged the status quo in their desire to unlock the secrets of the human psyche.

LD: What did you do before you became a counsellor? DG: My last quantum leap was a photojournalist and documentary filmmaker, living and working in Afghanistan for seven years.

LD: Why and when did you decide to join the team at WCC? DG: I joined WCC back in February 2019. I found the whole atmosphere warm and extremely welcoming, and without sounding too affected – it has ‘soul’. It’s also very diverse in both practitioners, and it’s client base which is what I am looking for in my private practice. They were also the first people to say ‘yes.’

LD: Is there a certain model of counselling you use in your work? Can you explain in less than 10 words what it means? DG: Integrative Approach – ‘Promiscuous and flirtatious around the psychodynamic, relational and humanistic theory.’ = 10 words – I did it!

LD: How have you adapted to doing your counselling work during the lockdown? DG: Novelist Tom Holt summed it up for me, ‘Human beings can get used to virtually anything, given plenty of time and no choice in the matter whatsoever.’ I accepted the inevitability of going online with a certain grim foreboding. Within weeks I realised that I was spending a third of the session looking at myself. I Googled it and found out it was normal. Then I discovered how to mute my face. Concealment was a revelation. Now there’s a paradox!

LD: Do you feel as though the lockdown has increased peoples’ need for counselling and therapy? DG: The media has been reporting a lot of research highlighting the negative impact on people’s mental health and finding it difficult to cope with the emotional challenges of isolation. Personally, I thought lockdown was enlightening at first, aside from the grim death toll I found exhilaration in its novelty. No traffic, low pollution, endless sunny days. ‘All in it together’ and all that malarkey.

The current lockdown is very different, and I can sense a collective anxiety building amongst all my clients. It is impacting everyone in a myriad of ways, but now I feel as though we are all yearning for things to return to normal. Although as James Hillman said in, We’ve Had a Hundred Years of Psychotherapy – and the World’s Getting Worse, ‘In a world like ours, where what’s considered normal is a sickly compromise between how much boredom you can stomach and how much denial you can defend, new thoughts and explorations are often couched in terms of psychosis’. So maybe it is an opportunity for people to look at new meanings and new beginnings instead of looking back. It could be the jolt some of us require.

LD: What would you say to someone who is thinking about receiving therapy or counselling? DG: Be careful, as Carl Jung said, ‘Be aware of unearned wisdom.’ Searching for the truth is not the same as what’s desirable. My god that sounds enough to scare the pants off anyone. Honestly, it’s great. How about Socrates? ‘The unexamined life is not worth living.’ No, that also sounds quite intimidating. Ok… just do it you’ll never look back. Oh no! That’s the whole point. What about; Be as truthful as possible with your therapist and ask questions. Get stuck in and do the work. It will reward you.

LD: What do you find most rewarding about being a counsellor? DG: The trust that clients place in me and the utter privilege I feel from receiving that trust. James Andreoni claimed the ‘glow of giving makes acts of generosity ultimately selfish.’ In sum; Helping people is a win-win.

LD: What do you find most challenging about being a counsellor? DG: The trust that clients place in me and the utter terror I feel from receiving that trust. Which is good right? Terror broadens the mind. When you’re scared, the stress response induces an adrenaline rush and floods your brain and body with oxygen, increasing your stamina.

LD: What advice do you have for people who are thinking about becoming a counsellor or therapist? DG: Take the red pill. It represents an uncertain future. Living the “truth of reality” is harsher and more difficult than you could imagine. But as Morpheus says in The Matrix, “if you take the blue pill…the story ends.” If you haven’t seen the Matrix, then that won’t make any sense. But maybe this is a trick question because as counsellors we are not meant to give advice. So perhaps I should adopt the Oscar Wilde approach on this one, ‘I always pass on good advice. It is the only thing to do with it. It is never of any use to oneself.’

LD: What’s your favourite technique to keep happy and healthy at home during the lockdown? DG: Cooking hearty soups and getting stuck into a Cold War Steve jigsaw puzzle. Twitter @Coldwar_Steve

LD: How do you start your day? DG: Tragically, like most people, these days, going to the loo and staring at my iPhone.

LD: Which 3 people would be on your guest-list for your dream dinner party? DG: RD Laing, Dorothy Parker and Keith Moon. Although I might be too terrified to attend.

LD: What’s the best book you’ve read in the last year? DG: I’m a Joke, and So Are You – Reflections on Humour and Humanity by Robin Ince & Stewart Lee.

LD: What’s the best advice you’ve ever received? DG: Not sure it is solid advice but more of a statement from Maya Angelou, ‘When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.’ She sounds a bit harsh and judgey, but I get the point. But I think the best advice I have read is that therapists should read more stories, more great literature, more Greek myths. Case studies, diagnosis, theories are great, but a lot of the time we are dealing in fiction. Freud said, ‘It’s how you remember, not what actually happened.’ That’s what clients do. They tell us stories that they have told themselves, and we should be always aware of that.

LD: What’s the most adventurous thing you’ve done in life? DG: Besides embarking on a career in therapy, I suppose it must be going to live in a so-called ‘war-zone’ and eating meat-based Kandahar street food in the blazing summer.

LD: When you were young, what did you want to be when you grew up? DG: In the Navy, but my mates told me that it was a bit ‘gay’. Please don’t blame me. It was Yorkshire in the 1970s in and literally, everything you didn’t like or understand was pejoratively called ‘gay’.

LD: What thing are you most excited to do once the lockdown has finished, and it’s safe to travel again? DG: Travelling on the Central Line in rush hour and licking shop windows outside Harrods.

LD: What are you irrationally scared of? DG: I am scared of faking it and making it. Freud called it ‘success neurosis’, but the great poet Phillip Larkin, said, ‘Life has a practice of living you, if you don’t live it.’ So I try not to be scared of living.

LD: What 3 things would you bring to a desert island? DG: Infinite Jest by David Foster Wallace. I have never managed to read it (the paperback is over 1100 pages) but apparently, it echoes a timeless conundrum: the propensity for humans to distract themselves, often mindlessly, from boredom and the trauma of life. If that doesn’t work the complete audio works of Alan Watts and Screamadelica by Primal Scream and maybe something to play them on if that’s not too greedy.

LD: What does 2021 hold for you? DG: Hopefully spending less time staring into a screen and shouting, ‘Can you hear me?’ However, I must end on another quotation since this interview is drowning in them. ‘If you want to make God laugh, tell him about your plans.’ Woody Allen.

David Gill [email protected] www.gillypsychotherapy.com

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douchebagbrainwaves · 3 years

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HERE'S WHAT I JUST REALIZED ABOUT PROFITS

And yet because of the slow sales cycle. There's so much you can't do that until you actually start the company, the next Steve Jobs, but he was proud that his unofficial title was Cheap Yahoo. The SEC defines an accredited investor as someone with over a million dollars and I'll figure out what he meant. The politicians all saying the same thing. Opportunities like this don't sit unexploited forever, even in Silicon Valley than everywhere else too. Com. And that is dangerous for so many founders that the surest route to success is to be actively persecuted. You may wonder how much of a problem. This is just a matter of pride, and a server collocated at an ISP. Fundamentally that's how the most successful companies we've funded have had a moral courage that's lacking today. But should you start a startup by just writing code.

The reason Florence is famous is that in the head of the observer, not something you can leave running as a background process running, looking for things that are new count as research is so narrow that no one is sure what research is supposed to be created by open source projects, for example, a seed firm should be able to keep up the momentum in your startup. East Coast after Yahoo. But the importance of startup hubs like Silicon Valley benefit from something like the way exercise keeps people young. But hacking can certainly be more of them go ahead and start startups right out of stock that has some additional rights over the common stock everyone else has. But that is not an efficient market, the number that moves is the valuation of our entire company. We had a wysiwyg online store builder that ran on the server, it would seem unprofessional.1 2 fundraising is to get lots of referrals. No matter how much money Yahoo would make from each link.2 The investors who invested earlier at a higher price, but you may lose a bunch of stuff on a table, and maybe turn it into one. You can work 16-hour days to produce the Apple computer for a society that confiscates private fortunes. I realized that though all of them had done many things in their own blog posts.

Is it a problem if customers feel pinched: you may even be the majority. They were professionals working in fields like the arts or writing or technology that the larger environment matters. I am always looking. Suddenly, in a mild form, an example of loving their work might help their kids more than an ordinary employee were asked to do something.3 They send spam because it works. To someone who hasn't learned the difference, traditional philosophy seems extremely attractive: as hard and therefore impressive as math, and math doesn't get stale. It's a smart move. Because people in the world for the better. But it seemed worth spoiling the atmosphere if I could only figure out what lies you were told as a kid I had what I thought the patent was completely bogus, and would never hold up in court. This is the counterexample to the design principle I just mentioned. This kind of work in which people have to be able to say, Frederick's of Hollywood, which gave us valuable experience dealing with heavy loads on our servers. The summer founders were as a rule, the only purpose of correcting them is to discredit one's opponent.4

That is so much better than the others'. Buildings If you go to the public markets. What have other people learned about design? As a Lisp hacker. Though computationally expensive in the general case, if n is the fraction of the probability that the mail is spam. What scares me is that there are more of those to be had each year, the best response is neither to bluff nor give up, but instead to explain how you'd figure out the right thing to do, and there is thus a property of objects as much as painters need to understand these especially productive people. The most ambitious students will at this point attempted certain gambits which I will not describe in detail, except to remind readers that the word Republic occurs in Nigerian scam emails and this spam. You may be thinking, why deal with investors at all?

And he said that little desktop computers would never be suitable for everyone. And since individual performance is so hard to make their own. That's an interesting idea.5 That depends on how well they do are not orthogonal.6 And that is more likely to happen in the Bay Area it's the Band of Angels.7 You could feel like you're flying straight and level while in fact most of the Lisp programming done today is done in Emacs Lisp or AutoLisp. And the things I find hardest to get into grad school or just be good at programming is to find something you can't turn off. By the time you get throngs of geeks. I'm British by birth. Empathy is probably the difficulty of assigning a value to each person's work. Because they can't predict the winners in advance?

You'll also have a provisional roadmap of how to be employees is to hand off the task to companies via internship programs. The ideas that come to them for funding. We're up against a truly formidable headwind—one that has been operating for thousands of years is dangerous. Investors like it when voters or other countries refuse to bend to their will, but ultimately each user should have his own per-word probabilities based on each individual user's mail. Electricity seemed an airy intangible. But Lisp macros are unique. Merchants bid a percentage of their profits? On my list I put words like Lisp and also my zipcode, so that a month was a huge interval. Top of My Todo List April 2012 A palliative care nurse called Bronnie Ware made a list of objects of different types. Actually it's better to start in America because funding is easier to read. I think the difference between them will be a tendency, as a high school kid writing programs in Basic.

What used to be something that is available if you ask a great hacker doing that; and two, even if you only have a few trusted friends you can speak openly to. Recently I've spent some time trying to push your price down. The 2005 summer founders ranged in age from 18 to 28 average 23, and that employers are just proxies for users in which risk is pooled. It sounds crazy, but there's a continuum here. There's still debate about whether this was a proper use of the term recitation for sections in some colleges is a fossil of this. When you're abusing the legal system by trying to encourage startups locally, but government policy can't call them into being the way a jealous husband feels about his wife's previous boyfriends. I've been telling founders that the company was really successful. After a few seconds it struck me how familiar they seemed.8 What's really uncool is to be undisciplined. What are people doing now, everyone will be doing with computers in ten years, thinking that you'll quit and write novels when you have one this has real implications for software design.

Even if you were going back to the problems they solved, look for problems, preferably problems you have yourself. You should respond in kind when investors behave upstandingly too. I've noticed for a long time cities were the only D table in our cafeteria map. How many would have understood that this particular 19 year old Bill Gates. Startups prosper in some places.9 Hacking What should you do in a lot of great things were clumped together in a place that's different from other animals as the anteater. He walks right by them, dressed up as an old man on crutches, and they tend to think of some that aren't the result of some external stimulus hitting a prepared mind. Over time, beautiful things tend to thrive, and ugly things tend to thrive, even though it may take multiword filtering to catch that. Civil War was about slavery; people would be intolerable. Y Combinator is that founders are willing to compromise.

Notes

That's very cheap, 1/50th of a more general rule: focus on users, you've started it, there are certain qualities that some of those most vocal on the expected value calculation for potential founders, because you need but a blockhead ever wrote except for that they don't want to. There is a matter of outliers, and their hands thus tended to make a fortune in the world barely affects me. I.

On Bullshit, Princeton University Press, 1996. Robert Morris wrote the first version was mostly Lisp, you don't need.

But it takes a few of the problem, but those don't involve a lot better to embrace the fact that established companies can't compete on price, and this is: we currently filter at the mercy of investors started offering investment automatically to every startup we funded, summer 2010. And even then your restrictions would have gone into the intellectual sounding theory behind it. E-Mail. But so many different schools of thought about how to deal with slaps, but they seem like I overstated the case of Bayes' Rule.

A round. But one of his first acts as president, he saw that they think the top schools are the only function of prep schools, because Julian got 10% of the problem and yet in both Greece and China, many of the fatal pinch where your existing investors help you in?

No VC will admit they're influenced by buzz. Unless of course, or black beans n cubes Knorr beef or vegetable bouillon n teaspoons freshly ground black pepper 3n teaspoons ground cumin n cups dry rice, preferably brown Robert Morris says that clothing brands favored by urban youth do not generally hire themselves out to do this all the money.

Only founders of Hewlett Packard said it first, and that modern corporate executives would work better, for example. And while they tried to lowball them. How can people who lost were us. If you're dealing with the other hand, he tried to preserve their wealth by forbidding the export of gold or silver.

On the other people who should quit their day job writing software goes up more than 20 years, maybe they'll listen to them rather than trying to upgrade an existing investor, and there didn't seem to them till they also influence one another both directly and indirectly. He did eventually graduate at about 26. They each constrain the other meanings are fairly closely related. Except text editors and compilers.

At the time and Bob nominally had a house built a couple hundred years ago. S P 500 CEOs in the former, because talks are made of spolia. What will go away, and all the time it still seems to have moments of adversity before they ultimately succeed.

Stone, op. Actually he's no better or worse than he was before, but that it's a departure from the Dutch not to quit their day job. So if you're a big effect on college admissions there would be to write your dissertation in the fall of 2008 but no doubt often are, but more often than not what it would have been about 2,000. She was always good at acting that way.

#automatically generated text #Markov chains #Paul Graham #Python #Patrick Mooney #implications #words #cups

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