#i understand the reasons she had -mostly economic- but at the same time I think I didn't have time to be and dress as a girl

[shy-forceghost]

I just realised that maybe me buying t-shirts and socks from the kids section is the counterpart of my mom lending me her (grown woman) clothes when I was nine.

#I was nine y.o. dressing like 30 #and now I think about it and realised I grew up too fast in that aspect as well #i understand the reasons she had -mostly economic- but at the same time I think I didn't have time to be and dress as a girl #Also I grew up in the early 2000s so you can imagine what kind of clothes I'm talking about #anyway dinosaurs and space-themed tshirts and hoodies rock!

[more-than-a-princess]

Closed, plotted starter for @quickdeaths !

With a frustrated groan, Sonia yanked open the double doors to the Jabberwock Island's movie theater. The third island, barring the hospital, was a mostly quiet, deserted sort of place: the majority of their day-to-day activities were confined to the main and second islands. So she had expected to have one of the three places she could most often be found on the collection of islands that made up Jabberwock to herself.

Crossing over the threshold and greeted by the faint scents of mold, caramel, and curry, she was in desperate need of it. Each week, the awakened and healthy (at least moderately: they could clean, feed, and dress themselves) former remnants were assigned meeting times with a member of the Future Foundation. What amounted to be part-therapist, part-guidance counselor, the Future Foundation were meant to advise them on how to navigate the state of the world, cope with the atrocities they'd committed virtually and in reality, and come up with a plan for after Jabberwock Island. While in theory the option was there, to live their lives out on a secluded island for the rest of their days, the Future Foundation could not assist them indefinitely. Supplies would become scarce and help would be nearly non-existent: it was better, they thought, that the former Remnants of Despair be instilled in society and begin repaying their debts and embark on the most normal lives they could possibly have.

Everyone, it seemed, except Sonia.

"Who does he think he is, the head and final say of the entire organization!?" She spat to no one in particular. "He never actually considers that I might be an asset to the Future Foundation's operations." Letting the doors slam shut behind her, she glared down at the paper in her hands before tearing it into strips, crumpling them into a ball, and throwing it into the rubbish bin. It was excessive, yes, but she didn't often have a vehicle to exhibit how much she despised her weekly sessions. Each Remnant was paired with a member of the Future Foundation for the duration of their stay, and it was Sonia's utter misfortune that, apparently, only Byakuya Togami could stomach dealing with her. Aoi Asahina had been too soft-hearted, taking pity on the former princess and her reliance on various substances, her insomnia, and how useless she felt at anything beyond being royalty. Kyoko Kirigiri had given up when she hadn't been able to reason with her, and Makoto Naegi was often too busy to speak to any of the Remnants besides Hajime.

In turn, that left only Byakuya Togami. Seemingly devoid of a proper beating heart in favor of efficiency, duty, and responsibility, he was the only one willing to chastise Sonia for her habits and unwillingness to embrace what she was: Queen of Novoselic. He was also the only one to, time and time again, deny her requests to join the Future Foundation. The crumpled-up ball of paper strips had been the most recent incarnation, where she had detailed the various services she had to offer the organization: translation, interpreting, a vast knowledge of law and economics, leadership experience. Anything that involved her not being sent back to Novoselic.

Something that, no matter how hard she pleaded her case, the Future Foundation insisted there was no place for her. Fuyuhiko, she heard, had experienced the same, though he seemed to accept it. But she was adamant: she was certain that sending her back to Novoselic would be sending her to her death, if the news reports from Europe were anything to go by. She would've gladly signed away all of her family's wealth to those already there, looking to rebuild, but the constant reminder that it wasn't just money, it was guidance and an understanding of how the nation was run, was crucial. Frankly, Sonia didn't think any amount of guidance would be useful if there were daily protests demanding the Future Foundation deliver her home, or at least her severed head.

Beyond the threat of her own life, she had her reasons: the reason being, apparently, very close to awakening from his pod. Torn between anger and anxiety, she'd decided upon the few things that could distract her in a state of sobriety: a film in the theater, a visit to the library, and something terribly indulgent from the Hotel Mirai kitchens, in precisely that order.

What she didn't expect was that she wasn't alone. Traipsing up the stairs to the projection room for the theater's sole screen, she stopped short at the doorway: Yaguchi, either selecting one of the reels from the shelves or debating about how to put it in the projector.

"Y-Yaguchi," Sonia half-stammered, half-coughed. There would be little she could do to hide how she'd flung the door open with a firm slam, her hands in balled, clenched fists, or her brows that, for the past hour at least, appeared to be permanently furrowed into an irritated expression. "I am sorry, I did not know someone was intending to use the theater. No one really comes here, especially during the day. I can find a film on disc in the library to take back to my cabin instead, so you may watch your film in peace."

Peace was precisely the last thing she felt, anyway. But she'd find something to lose herself in, so that, for a little while at least, she wouldn't scream something she didn't mean to the entire Future Foundation. "If you need assistance with the projector though, I can help you," She sighed. She'd turned her heel and then remembered that, out of everyone, only she and Hajime had figured out how to set up the reels precisely, to best preserve the film inside. "You will not be able to watch any of the films in this theater otherwise."

#quickdeaths #post neo world program verse #(I hope this is okay! Let me know if you need anything changed)

[turtlemagnum]

i think the main reason i've (mostly) abandoned the ideas of "left wing" vs "right wing" is how broad and basically useless they are unless someone believes Exactly The Same Shit As You, which basically nobody does. i've seen everyone from (the american conception of) liberals, to marxist-leninists, to nazis described as "leftist" by various people, and frankly i dont consider those to really share much common ground. hell, even words like "liberal", it means a very different thing to a communist than it does to a conservative, much less from country to country (to my understanding, most countries outside of the US define it closer to the original meaning, for example). which isn't to say that i don't have my own ideas about what these words mean, it's just that i know intimately that most people don't, and likely never will.

this is why i like to just say what i think without ascribing labels to myself. if, for example, i considered myself an anarchist, the second you tell someone "i'm an anarchist" they already have their own ideas about what that means, and will just fill mentally fill those in and likely ignore what you're actually trying to say. there are certain ideologies that people commonly don't really perceive as ideologies with an actual degree of complexity or nuanced beliefs. for example, i couldn't tell you how many times people use the word "nazi" to just describe literally anything they dont like. when my old apartment complex banned people from using their own grills, i saw a little bit of writing on one of the notices: "guess we're living in nazi america, now...". obviously, the nazis never banned goddamn grills. that is unequivocally not a belief that the nazis even came close to holding, and when analyzed seriously this statement is utter fucking balderdash. but the person who wrote that, they didn't conceive of nazism as an actual belief system with stated principals and beliefs, to them it just means "i dont like this".

now, to be clear, i'm in no way saying that nazi beliefs were good or justified. i'm just saying that contrary to popular belief, they had an actual philosophy that the average person could internalize and conceive of. a deeply contradictively and horrific one, of course, but the second we conceive as a group of not having anything worth analyzing is when we give up on understanding it on any deeper level. and frankly, i think that understanding fascism and how it functions is a good thing, because then you have a better idea of how to counter it, and how to not unintentionally fall into it. abhorrent ideas are, in my opinon, unequivocally still worth analyzing and understanding, because i find there's rarely something as informative to making things better as understanding why something fails.

i remember this one time, my mom called trump a communist. after i questioned her a bit, i managed to ascertain that what she meant was just that he was an authoritarian. now, not to tip my hand too much, but personally i wouldn't consider former US president donald trump to be a communist. bold stance, i know. i had a similar exchange why my grandpa where he called trump an anarchist, and then also a fascist. i gotta wonder, what does the average person really think these words mean? personally, judging by how my grandfather called trump an anarchist, i wouldn't believe him to have any coherent idea of what anarchism as a cluster of ideologies to actually mean beyond perhaps "likes chaos". i'd contend the same about my mother and communism, given how communism is an economic theory that, depending on who you ask, isnt inherently authoritarian or libertarian, or in my experience some would posit is inherently anarchistic in nature. again, i'm not saying what i personally believe; i'm just saying that i conceptualize of different political philosophies with a bit more nuance than the unsettling common american idea of "socialism is anything i don't like. the more i hate it, the more socialist it is" (you can replace the word "socialist" with pretty much any ideology outside of the overton window, sadly that's how they tend to use it)

all in all i'd consider arguing politics in terms of what label(s) you specifically identify as is essentially pointless. if you call yourself a socialist as thanksgiving, your disphit aunt probably isn't gonna agree with anything you say as an inherent function of the centrist mind. if you'd just actually explain what you actually believe, particularly if you used the right words, you're hell of a lot more likely to change hearts and minds. they probably wont agree with everything you say, but they're infinitely more likely to actually put thought into actively considering what you're saying

[avoutput]

The One That Surprises You || How High We Go In The Dark

I read in spurts. I will do 10 or 15 books in a year for a few years, then none for a few years. I have been in a slump post college. I tend to think of “reading books” as reading Fiction. In the world of Non-Fiction, I mostly read about the American experience, with a focus on Economics and, independent of that, Black and minority lives. Reading Non-Fiction is study, reading fiction is a mixture of all facets of life, of various levels of pleasure and analysis, of the subject and ourselves. When I read Fiction, a film plays in my head. I even read the book as if narrated by a disconnected voice of authority, the characters slowly coming to life as amalgamations of my favorite actors, their voices ranging from classic characters like Sam Malone, Marge Simpson, Darth Vadar, Wednesday Adams, and Spock. The fog in my brain clears and light hits a silver screen, projecting the words of the author turn for turn. That being said, this is my very first book review. I experimented once with music review with The Weeknd’s “Starboy'' and I felt horribly inept at truly understanding what music was trying to accomplish. I fear that this outing might be the same by the end, but in the spirit of the subject of this review, I will tread foriegn ground for, if no one else, myself. “How High We Go In The Dark'' by Sequoia Nagamatsu took hold of me in a way that I have never found in modern literature, and I want to warn you that it isn’t for the faint of heart, but that it is also for people whom’s heart is weakened and needs to grow three sizes.

I am a man that loves nothing more than an introduction. I think context is important, and as such, I want my readers to understand how I came across this literary find. In an effort to help a friend, my group of do gooders started a book club. We decided that each person would submit a book and we would vote on the winner. It should come as no surprise that the person who this was supposed to help never actually won the vote, which is to say, we did our best. Despite that, on our third book this year, the winner ended up not liking their own choice, “Age of Cage: Four Decades of Hollywood Through One Singular Career” by Keith Phillips, and vetoed the book half way, which started a whole new round of voting. In turn, she offered up the subject of our review. Now, I voted for this book knowing only the cover of the book, the author’s name, and its title. I literally judged a book by its cover and little else. I had decided, despite all reason, that my friends were worthy candidates of my entire trust and simply have not read the synopsis to any book I have voted on thus far, which is the “American Way”, for never better and always worse. The exception being in trivial matters like book clubs. Personally, I chose this book because the writer’s name shared reference to a grand tree. Little did I know I would be walking into one of the fastest page turners I had read in years. It may have well read itself.

You can put down your aperitif, it's time for the main course. To continue to write this book’s praises, I should first give you a brief outline. The story revolves around a pandemic that initially attacks the lives of children predominantly, but evolves in waves that ripple out into the entire population of Earth, leading to a change that affects the course of humanity for millenia to come. Uncharacteristically for science fiction, this story is driven entirely by the humans that are actually living (and dying) in this world. The narrative structure is entirely in the perspective of the people experiencing it. It is a first-person perspective of the ingenuity and tenacity of the human spirit during the darkest hours. Reading what I just wrote, I am not sure that I would have read this book knowing what it was about, but I hope you will look past my inability to describe this book from a bird’s eye view any better than this. It's possible I have betrayed the very thing that made this book stand out for me personally, the sheer surprise of it. There is much more in its pages, but it begs to be read to be understood. 

I hate to say that I have more concrete examples of what I don’t like about the book than what I do, but to tell you more would be to ruin the experience it provides. Nagamatsu has a style in this book that is so tender, raw, and visceral, you will wonder how someone can speak so universally about the human experience, but be so pointed as to tell a singular experience that is likely completely foreign to the reader. You feel like a spy in a life not your own, but come out the other end calling them your family; reminding you of your mom, dad, uncle, aunt, brother, or sister. Nagamatsu’s strength is in disarming you, alarming you, disturbing you, and comforting you. You will grow by the end of this book, and it's not even “Self-Help”.

Before we get to my general criticisms of the story, I do have one more major praise. I am not Asian or Asian-American, but I really appreciated that many of the characters expressed their disdain when considering living up to stereotypes or their parents expectations. The story focuses on how we pass the torch from generation to generation and how we are often burned by the passing of the baton. I am mixed race, but specifically appear Black (or really any version of Brown and have been mistaken for Egyptian, Iranian, and Puerto Rican in the same day), and living up to both White and Black expectations has always been somewhat of a burden, easier to handle as I have gotten older and more sure of myself, but I still feel pangs of what Nagamatsu’s characters express. To be clear, this isn’t done in a heavy handed way, it’s woven into the story along with all sorts of other aspects to their characters, and it feels done rather deftly. 

Now for our dish best served cold, the critique. Truthfully, I have very few bad things to say that aren’t simply personal taste. As I said, the book was easy to swallow and had me coming back for more. However, what had me coming back was something that ultimately went unsatisfied. Chapter after chapter, there is this lingering sense that you are about to stumble into a true adventure, something that will dazzle you; that the characters are one step away from taking on challenges like Indiana Jones or John-Luc Picard. This may be where going into the book blind led me, rapidly lapping up everything in the book, only to be left thirsty afterwards. Is that the mark of a good book? I can only say that its final pages left me without wanting, happy that I found the bottom of the glass. Because at the end, I realized I wasn’t reading the book I always thought it would become, no matter how close to the end I would get. It was like I was under a spell that was removed only when I finished the book. I am not unhappy, but I still wish the book had turned down those adventurous alleys. For instance, the opening chapter shares a very similar tone to John Carpenter’s “The Thing”, and when the chapter was over, and I returned the following day to read the next, I was shocked that we were going a different way. And this continues to happen, over and over, but I still wanted more.

My final thoughts you may want to skip, as I fear it might give away too much, but personally, this did annoy me. Each chapter leads into the next, often indirectly, but leaving behind breadcrumbs for past or future characters to come. It is almost a series of short stories all told in the same universe. However, because the book is largely in first-person, the characters begin chapters using “I” statements and often takes several pages to even learn who is talking, and thus obscures the connective thread from characters in previous chapters until it almost feels silly that you didn’t see it. I wanted the chapter title to simply say who is talking, right beneath it. I just wanted to escape this nagging feeling like I was missing something in plain sight, or that should be in plain sight.

I apologize for being vague, but I do think that this book is best read to be understood. It feels like a monumental feat somehow, like I hadn’t experienced literature in a long time, or at the very least, in my time. All the great books seemed to have come out before I existed, and the ones that have come out since then, maybe I have never fully trusted. In being surprised by “How High We Go In The Dark'', I feel like I can open up to more modern literature, maybe take the practice of “reading books” seriously again. I either have always read for fun or to be moved; reading something superfluous or reading something serious. I haven’t taken Fiction books seriously because the ones I tend to read aren’t trying to move the reader in any obvious way. I have always left that work up to Non-Fiction. Sequoia Nagamatsu may not be the first or the best in this genre or with this type of literature, but he is the first to make me feel this way, and it never would have happened unless I had been willing to be surprised. To go where I hadn’t gone before. It also wouldn’t have happened if he was any less of a writer, so to that end, I would like to thank him. Do yourself a favor, reader, and challenge yourself to this book. It is often sad, heartbreaking, and scary, but more than anything, it is boundlessly hopeful.  

#Review #Books #Book Review #How High We Go In The Dark #Sequoia Nagamatsu #Fiction #Pandemic #Sci fi #Science Fiction

[tim-hoe-wan]

Thank you for answering and I agree so much with your take! I do think the whole twitter cancelling needs more nuance and context. I also agree these days stans are just using it for their own selfish reason and that's why people tend to not take it seriously, even though the allegations do show these celebs are problematic.

I was conflicted cause I follow plenty of pop culture and stan blogs. I'm 20 years old and when these things come out I usually see older stan accounts mock the whole thing even if what's been revealed show a certain person has done a lot of pretty terrible shit. I get that it's probably because stans are just trying to dig to justify their hate, but at the same time, that doesn't mean the person is ok or in the clear just because the stans are just as awful you know? But of course I try to look for wisdom in the older bloggers but I can't get myself to agree? They always end up giving out a non sequitur argument or call out that our generation is too butthurt or we're just childish. Yeah maybe the stans who digged that whole shit were childish, but that doesn't mean I can't call out the celeb for things they've done as ADULTS. But it's like instead of listening to my side, they just think I'm an immature kid. And ok yeah I am talking about Olivia and I don't even care if she's dating Harry. But I am allowed to be uncomfortable with how performative she is and her Weinstein connections. I've never had an issue with Harry dating anyone before, even Kendall and Taylor. In fact if they're real, I could care less about Harry dating her. I care more about the fact that people are hyping up a pretty horrible person and mostly because she's dating a man they view through rose tinted glasses.

Maybe I'm just lucky my parents never shamed us and in fact encouraged my siblings and I to call out and improve from the mistakes of their generation.

I actually don't get why a lot of the older generation shame gen z for calling out problematic celebrities or in general societal behavior. I know it can look childish at times, but it's not like they were blind on how our generation was shaped. Again I understand all this twitter research is used as a stan war and that makes everyone hypocritical, but I'm also talking about adults who shame the kids for calling out those legendary rockstars being pedophiles, romanticizing hollywood couples like June and Johnny, calling out cultural appropriation etc. Like ok you like their art, but what's wrong with pointing out these are very real toxic behavior and should be called out so as not to be mimicked or emulated.

Just to share in one of my economic history class, my professor talked about the rise of bitcoin and how it shaped our generation. Bitcoin's creation and subsequent popularity was fueled by the 2008 financial crisis and the mistrust of the public towards the government and financial institutions in place. Studying why crypto, however controversial, became so popular is actually a good analysis into why our generation is this way.

We were basically shaped by the aftermath of 9/11, the 2008 financial crisis, we barely remember what it's like without internet and social media, we don't remember a time when climate change wasn't a big deal etc. Basically, the major events that shape our life would make it understandable why we're cautious and don't trust the government or authority in general. Most of us never had the privilege of never having our mistakes possibly exposed on social media and we have to live through that, it's the normal that we know of. We basically came into an already globalized world and our childhood was filled with fighting for social justice, so of course it's understandable why our generation is much less intolerant of problematic behavior. I mean yeah we need more empathy and nuance with the topic, but it would be great if the older generation would actually meet us in between and see we're just trying to learn from the f*ck ups of their generation.

[x0x016]

Reflection #2 FINAL

 

Department of Ethnics Studies, California State University Stanislaus

Ethnics Studies 4000 Section 001

Professor Christina Acosta

May 26, 2022

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

             

To begin with, my mind isn't embodied for the right term of what is a family dynamic. I know briefly what my parents went through. I cherish the sacrifice of both my parents to have migrated to the United States even if that meant leaving behind everything they ever had. In Enrique’s Journey, it navigated me to think about why my parents left their country. Of course, they had a minimal hope for economic opportunities that someday I would appreciate their hard dedication to sustain the family altogether. They began their lives all from scratch and raised us. As of today, I am proud to be born as an American citizen for several reasons my parents wish they had, instead my father had it more like a prison pipeline life. So, their dreams are passed down to me so that someday I can appreciate them. Some parents do commit the mistake to think it’s alright to buy your happiness. Just like my parents, I let go of my past experiences.

I may have not seen what I came along during my childhood times when there has been the deficit moment that I am going through right now. We could not agree with the decisions we make or how to embrace our emotions with the proper words. I tend to forget the positive side of what my parents offer me such as a decent quality lifestyle, having more advantages to earn a degree, and becoming a true scholar for my Latinx community. Let alone, I suffered as an adult, staring at those four walls I felt my family’s absence and perhaps it’s nothing compared to the strong goodbye that the author Enrique had for his mother after several years she was gone

(Nazario, 2007). His mother sending him money quite wasn’t enough (Nazario, 2007). I missed so many other opportunities just to repay my family’s cultural traditions that shaped me into who I am. If I could go back and give advice to my teenage self, I would have come strongly to reveal my sexual preferences. At the age of sixteen, I knew I was mostly fixated on my first female crush. With females, I felt secure and every once in a while, get those butterflies in my stomach.

This course resonated with me throughout the semester due to listening to the special guest speakers. Most importantly, I learned to come forward as valuating my individual self more than my physical appearance. The volume of their voices helped me realize each family’s dynamic relationships are different. We have a deep complexion to portray beauty in the media, and I wonder sometimes if I caused any embarrassment by making my own life changes and becoming a mother of a beautiful child. After a while, I felt an ounce of guilt, and I was seen a counselor to cope with the postpartum depression that took over me. My mother didn’t want to mentor me nor wanted me to stay at her house until I fully recovered after giving birth. On top of that, I married a woman who then everyone neglected us to be part of many family reunions.

By the time we found out I was pregnant in steppingstones, I knew my instincts kept telling me that I would upset someone, my mother. They all had some wrong perception that I might have cheated on my wife, been mentally tortured, or raped in order to receive a gift given to me from God to raise a child. In reality, they were not well informed like most same-sex couples can make a family by going through artificial insemination without involving any male mate. Because I always wanted to be a mom. I am within the age limit and to me, it was necessary. I just did not want to leave one day without knowing how the process feels to carry a baby inside my womb. Now, through a week of class lecture, an article that was discussed in,

Decolonial P’urhepecha Maternalista Feminist Motherwork and Pedagogy, Gloria Spears-Rico made me understand that women should have a say to do with their bodies and she also experience an analogous situation that my wife and I have led alone in a hospital (Spears-Rico, 2019). We were inexperienced parents without anyone teaching us the ropes. I lived in fear of having a higher risk of dying while giving birth mostly because of my weight (Spears-Rico,

2019). We taught ourselves how to bathe and feed a very delicate baby at maximum during the pandemic. One of the quotes that inspire me is “A mother is not someone who gives birth to a child. A mother is someone who is there for the child -day after day. A mother wipes away the child's tears. A mother teaches and guides the child." And I say this to many mothers out there who cannot have a child in their own wombs. I guess, it is highly expected from my religion, however, I am personally disbelief that only heterosexuals are the main platform to create a family. Therefore, I felt excluded for thinking differently enough to cause shame, especially to my mother.

Being a lesbian was probably less burden to finally confess to my family at first. Then, they had come a long way accepting not just me but also my wife. Then giving her the news, her voice breaks over the phone. And it is not so much the fact that my mother flew back again to

Mexico that has me resentful, is more from the lack of attention she still has for her grandchild.

She hasn’t demonstrated the sympathy that most mothers do to see them grow, therefore, I envy those that do get helped. Finally, I was resilient about these issues because if I had stayed quiet, they might not read any of those signals. I thought once my mother took care of my grandparents, she would request her days off from work for me, instead, she bails out from herself to meet my basic needs. I developed body aches and couldn’t put myself to rest well neither did my wife. We both took turns to meet with our daughter’s cues. Perhaps, in Enrique’s

Journey, Enrique’s mother would have wished to see his son if she were only 15 to 20 minutes away. Mine lives here in California, we are so close, but our differences are what makes all of us distant.

Last week, during a class lecture I liked how I watched Nikki Sanchez’s TedTalk speech on Decolonization, is for everyone. She was so tuned in the way she said, “we are never going to go back and erase that past it has already been done…” I wish to remind my relatives that discrimination exists in all shapes and will continue to do so. I know who I am and where I come from. I am a proud first-generation Mexican American, a woman of color, a lesbian, an educator, and a mother. To disfigure my body was also something that I’m proud of. Underneath it all, my ancestors may not be in favor of the choices I made in my life. I opted out of my catholic beliefs because I perceive the world differently. We’re supposed to be united, yet again we all unleashed our old tradition one way or the other. But my Mexican roots is something I carry in me with so much pride. I know my parents struggled to get here even though we are distant from each other. I will have in mind what was once our country, and we should be treated as we are? We brought memories together where I will always be thankful to my grandparents for being a part of me.

That I won’t ever abandon also, I don’t want to abandon my new interfaith that allows me to love who I choose to be with. Now, everyone seems liberal-minded. In my institution, offers a safe home for LGBTQ+. Your sexual orientation is classified by how you want to be identified in your application. I denied identifying myself as a lesbian again I believe that the university may take away my privileges for professional growth. Even so, it shouldn’t be a requirement to enforce anyone. I do hope to still make a difference in the community.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reference 

Spears-Rico, G. (2019). Decolonial P’urhépecha Maternalista Feminist Motherwork and Pedagogy. In The Chicana Motherwork Anthology (pp. 243–262). University of Arizona Press.

Nazario, S. (2007). Enrique’s journey: The story of a boy’s dangerous odyssey to reunite with his mother. Random House.

Talks, T. [TEDxTalks]. (2019, March 12). Decolonization is for everyone | Nikki Sanchez | TEDxSFU. Youtube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QP9x1NnCWNY

[syyskirjat]

Of course for a full idea of Laura's circumstances, we'd need to also look into the economics and legalities in Styria at the time, and also actually figure out where her father's income is coming from. She already makes a point that the cost of living is a lot lower so we can just accept that part. But what were the inheritance laws like? Because I don't actually know! But I'm sure not all countries worked exactly like Britain where apparently women just could not inherit the estate under any circumstances. So under the local laws or customs, could Laura have hypothetically inherited her father's estate as his only child? I have absolutely no clue.

A lot of the articles I found through some quick googling mostly talk about married women and their husbands but I am getting the sense that in terms of inheriting from one's parents... maybe? I think? It might be the same rules for both male and female children? And I don't think that male primogeniture applies in this case since the estate was bought, not inherited? So unless her father just decides to be a dick about it, I think Laura would be his primary beneficiary? As his only child.

I mean if she gets married, the property would most likely be transferred to her husband by custom, but if it's true that she is able to inherit the estate, that would be a huge advantage to her in comparison to English women. That would mean that she wouldn't have the problems that the Bennet girls had.

(What I was looking up was the Austrian civil code of 1811 (das Allgemeines bürgerliches Gesetzbuch), because I assume that's probably what would be in effect here. But please note that all I have is what I still remember from my three years of German in highschool and Google. I don't have any kind of formal training in law, much less historical law. I really do not know what I'm doing.)

Now of course there's a chance that the estate isn't the primary source of their income. (I mean if most of their land is just forest, it doesn't seem very profitable! And I have no frame of reference for this part!)

If it's savings instead, then I assume Laura would just inherit that too, but maybe it is her father's pension actually, in which case I think that would be bad news for Laura. It would still put her in a similar position as the Bennet girls where her being able to maintain her living standards would entirely depend on her father staying alive OR finding a husband.

But if Laura did have that looming over her future, I'd expect her and her father to be a lot more concerned about her getting married ASAP, which they just don't seem to be at all? So that's another reason to suspect that the pension isn't the primary source of income.

I guess another thing in Laura's favour here is that she's an only child, she doesn't have to split a dowry fund with four other sisters, like the Bennet girls. Even in a worst case scenario she would still have that going for her. And maybe she has some noble connections on her mother's side too.

So it might actually be that even though the Bennets had an income of £2000 per year, which is perfectly respectable for English landed gentry, and Laura's family only has £800-900, which seems to be barely anything by those same standards, due to all these circumstances, Laura's prospects would actually have been a lot better than those of the Bennet sisters. And that's why marriage doesn't seem to be a major concern in her case.

But again, I don't know shit, I don't have the experitise to make this analysis. I'm just guessing based on what little I understand about the economic realities of the era.

#long post

[melohax]

Why Basil isn’t “evil” or knowingly manipulative:

Warning: Major MAJOR Omori Spoilers Ahead

When people aren’t saying Sunny is a psychopath who deserves to be in jail, they’re saying Basil is an evil obsessive mastermind who tricked poor dissociating Sunny into defacing his sister’s corpse.

I’ve already explained before why I disagree with either interpretation but I haven’t gone in depth with Basil’s character. I’ll write about why I don’t think Basil is this dark yandere intentionally manipulating Sunny into dependance on him.

Basil is a tragic character with bad abandonment issues who legitimately wants to help the people he loves most. Unfortunately he also happens to have a broken “normalcy compass” (common in abused and/or neglected children). This means his well intentioned actions are often more harmful than helpful.

Aubrey says during a part of the real world segment that outside our main friend group, she’s always been an outcast. I think it’s no accident that we see in Sunny’s memories that she was the one who introduced Basil to the friend group, implying he’s also always been an outcast like her.

With Aubrey though, we can attribute her outcast status to things like living in the poorest neighborhood in Faraway town while also living in the visibly most worn-down house of said poor neighborhood.

Aubrey has a hoarding alcoholic mother that neglects her and a strict father (Aubrey casually mentions as a kid that her father is weirdly strict about her appearance) who ends up abandoning her anyway. Aubrey’s hot temper doesn’t help either and so even though she manages to be popular and well-loved among her hooligan friends, the rest of the town judges her harshly as if she’s at fault for her horrible life circumstances.

Then we have Basil. Basil’s economic circumstances are visibly better than Aubrey’s and he lives in a nice house surrounded by pretty flowers. Yet even with everything around him (even his appearance) looking so prim and cute, he’s still treated as an outcast.

We know that mentally ill children are way too often shunned by their peers and the adults surrounding them for being “weird” even though it’s not their fault that they have different brain chemistry. Without counting the bullying Aubrey carried out with her friends, Basil was already being ostracized by people outside the main friend group. In one of Sunny’s memories, Basil tells them that he’d always been alone before meeting them.

This lets us know that there’s always been “something” that’s made Basil unpopular with almost everyone. We see hints of why in the contrast between Dreamworld Basil and Real Basil. Whereas Dreamworld Basil is well-spoken, charismatic and cheerful, Real Basil is a nervous wreck that is prone to panic attacks and bouts of screaming. We could say he’s this way cus of what he did to Mari but from knowing Basil’s always been an unliked outcast, I get the feeling he’s not like this only from the Mari situation.

Then we have the probable root of his very obvious abandonment issues: Basil’s parents’ are completely absent save for some pictures in his home. Sunny himself has never seen Basil’s parents in person. Datamining apparently suggests his parents abandoned him when he was a toddler. To top it off, having a constantly ill and mostly unresponsive grandma as his only remaining family doesn’t help with his mental health issues at all, either. No wonder the kid’s clingy.

There’s also the caretaker at his house, who is introduced as Basil’s caretaker, not his sick grandmothers. Basil is at the age where he can legally emancipate himself yet we’re shown he still needs a caretaker to look after him. That Basil needs looking after kinda says to me that he has issues he can’t be left alone with.

So all these paragraphs were to explain the evidence that point to Basil likely being mentally ill since before Mari’s death. Now we get to the parts that make me think he’s been suffering from psychosis even as a kid.

12 year old Basil doesn’t seem capable of understanding the concept of Sunny being angry and accidentally shoving Mari down the stairs. He seems unable to consider the possibility that it was an argument between siblings just at the wrong place at the wrong time, as if that just can’t happen. To Basil, it HAS to be “Something” maliciously causing the incident and/or forcing Sunny to do it.

About the Mari incident and Basil’s fucked up idea: I think a lot of fans forget that first, not only was Basil a 12 year old kid back then (not even a teen yet) but also a lot of the reasoning behind many of Basil’s most important actions seems to be rooted in delusions he genuinely believes.

The same thing happens when the photo album was scribbled over: in his mind, there was no way any of his friends (*cough* Sunny) could have done this. It had to be the same “Something” attached both to him and Sunny that decided to ruin the photos. Basil doesn’t seem to remember doing anything to the album at all.

We could say all of this isn’t psychosis but metaphors for extreme denial instead, like the way Sunny decides things that remind him of The Truth don’t exist (like the closet door).

I don’t think this is all there is to it, tho.

Basil throughout the game tries to guide Sunny to the truth both in Headspace and that the time in his bathroom where he tries to talk to Sunny about the Something following them. Too afraid to hear him out, Sunny runs away instead while Basil screams for Sunny not to leave him again.

This shows imo that Basil’s brand of denial isn’t the same as Sunny’s. Sunny escapes into his own head and pretends everything involving the incident is either perpetually frozen in a time before anything bad happened or that it simply does not exist. He’s all about repression and suppression.

Basil on the other hand, acknowledges that the incident happened but he saw a Something committing the act instead of Sunny himself.

Then, the final battle against Basil confirms to me that Basil’s delusions and hallucinations go beyond denial of Sunny’s guilt.

Even when the truth is finally out in the open for the both of them, Basil still insists it’s “Something” that did everything. He attacks Sunny because he genuinely believes he is attacking Something evil and that this will protect Sunny from it. The most important detail to me: Basil slashes or gouges Sunny’s eye out specifically on the side where Somethings eye peeks out from Mari’s hair.

Saddest of all, we’re never shown if Basil ever managed to realize that there was never a monster doing everything. Although we are shown the burden of the secret is gone in that last scene between Sunny and Basil, we don’t know if Basil ever understood that Sunny wasn’t forced by any monster to kill Mari.

There’s more that can be said but this post already got long af lol. My conclusion is that Basil isn’t some evil yandere mastermind. He’s a sad wreck of a teenager who’s always struggled with mental illness, trying to do the best he can for those he loves while being plagued by nearly constant delusions and hallucinations.

Tricking his best friend/love interest isn’t part of Basil’s modus operandi when a lot of times he can barely tell what’s real and what isn’t.

#omori spoilers #omori #omori game #basil omori #omori basil #mari omori #omori mari #aubrey omori #omori aubrey #mental illness #cw mental illness

[robininthelabyrinth]

I'm pretty sure this is prompt four. Jiang Cheng/Qin Su - Jin Rusong as heir to Lotus Pier

ao3

Jiang Cheng heard the news in pieces, scraps of wild rumor and gossip repeated a hundred times over, but he still refused to believe it until he actually saw the official announcement.

Jin Guangyao had divorced his wife and sent her back to her father’s house, along with their son.

“Is he insane?” Jiang Cheng asked his second in command, who only shrugged helplessly. “Putting aside the fact that I’m certain that he loves her madly, putting everything else aside, Sect Leader Qin is influential and powerful, and a strong supporter of his father – no matter what happened between them, surely someone as pleasant and compromising as Jin Guangyao could find a way to work it out?”

Jiang Cheng had only met Qin Su a few times, always at Jin Guangyao’s side. He’d heard about how she’d fallen for the dashing young man that turned out to be Jin Guangyao and sworn to marry him, no matter the obstacles; he’d heard how they’d managed to overcome every storm, fight the wind and rain, and eventually made it to their marriage bed.

They’d even had a son together, little Jin Rusong; he was Jin Ling’s best playmate.

And Jin Guangyao was kicking him out? Kicking her out?

Absurd!

Who did he think he was?

And yet, contrary to Jiang Cheng’s expectations, Sect Leader Qin did not immediately explode, or, rather, within a few days, he did, but not in the way anyone had expected. Everyone had joked that he would find Jin Guangyao and strangle him, and he really did physically attack someone – but not Jin Guangyao.

He attacked Jin Guangshan instead.

It was as if he’d gone mad, red-eyed like Nie Mingjue in the throes of his qi deviation; he’d charged at Jin Guangshan, his old friend of thirty years or more, right in the middle of Jinlin Tower, and swiped at him viciously with his sword, cutting a gash in his chest as the surprised Jin sect leader darted back too slowly to wholly dodge.

What could be done? The Lanling Jin sect guards could not stand silently by with such provocation – they counter-attacked at once, and Sect Leader Qin did not survive. A little later, and it was discovered that he had never intended on it: his sword was laced with poison.

Sect Leader Qin died, but he took Jin Guangshan down with him the underworld.

The rumor mill exploded.

Everyone was talking about Sect Leader Qin’s motivations – the suspicious timing of the divorce – Jin Guangyao’s now inevitable ascension to the seat of Sect Leader Jin –

Only Jiang Cheng thought about Qin Su, who should have been ascending right beside him. It had been her father that had died, after all.

Laoling Qin was far enough away from Lanling Jin that they were still mostly independent, and they were close enough to the Qinghe Nie that Jiang Cheng could pretend that he’d only made a short detour on a visit directed towards Nie Huaisang, that notorious purveyor of gossip; luckily enough, Nie Huaisang remembered their old friendship and was more than happy to help cover his tracks.

When Jiang Cheng arrived, the house was already decked out in mourning. Qin Su greeted him, eyes red and swollen from tears.

“I’m sorry,” Jiang Cheng said awkwardly, then flinched when he realized he probably should have said something in greeting first – they really didn’t know each other well enough to skip over all that.

Nevertheless, Qin Su nodded, forgiving him the slip-up before he could even retract it. She was gracious and gentle, kind and quiet, economical and thoughtful – a consummate hostess. The wife of Jin Guangyao could not afford to be anything less.

Former wife.

Jiang Cheng’s gaze danced around the room, searching for something to say, and then abruptly he noticed – “There are two deaths in your household?”

“My mother took her own life,” Qin Su said, her voice dull. She tried to suppress it, but tears gathered in her eyes again. “Shortly before…”

Whatever it was that Jin Guangshan had done that had driven Sect Leader Qin mad, it had involved his wife, Jiang Cheng thought, and then abruptly he turned pale as he put two and two together. He’d never doubted that Jin Guangyao had adored Qin Su, so why would he divorce her?

Unless…

Jin Guangshan had a reputation.

Qin Su laughed a little, a bitter sound. “Everyone will know, soon enough,” she said wisely, seeing that Jiang Cheng had figured it out. “I don’t blame my former husband at all; he acted as he ought to in every respect. It’s only my poor A-Song…I can’t imagine what his life will be like from now on.”

Jiang Cheng looked helplessly at her. To lose not only your parents, one right after the other, but your husband, your reputation, and next even your son…

“Marry me,” he said suddenly, and Qin Su stared at him. “If Sect Leader Jin’s assault were recent rather than ancient, it would have provoked the same result. The only reason anyone might suspect the truth is because of the timing of your divorce – if there’s a reason given for that, people won’t think twice about it.”

His words had come out all in a rush, smashing together like stones tossed around by a waterfall; he hadn’t thought of the idea until right this moment.

“Are you suggesting I admit to adultery?” she asked. Her eyes were as round as the full moon.

Jiang Cheng shrugged, a little helpless. “Your reputation is gone,” he pointed out, wishing he knew how to be kind or tactful. “Adultery or incest – it’s the same either way for you. But for A-Song…”

To be the son of an adulterous woman was disgraceful, but such things happened and people generally looked the other way, as long as the real father was powerful enough.

It was better than being a child of incest.

“But what of your reputation?” she asked. “Sect Leader Jiang, you can’t. I won’t let you injure yourself for my sake.”

“Not for you,” he said, though maybe it was, just a little bit. The loss of your parents, the loss of your whole life, everything you’d ever believed – who could understand that better than him? “For A-Song. He’s Jin Ling’s best friend.”

Qin Su had always been kind to Jin Ling, he thought. She didn’t need to be, could just tolerate him the way most people in Jinlin Tower did, but she really seemed to like him…

It occurred to him suddenly that Qin Su met all of his requirements for a bride: a beauty from a good family, obedient, economical, with a mild personality who wasn’t too loud and wasn’t too talkative, who was good to Jin Ling…

“How’s your cultivation?” he asked abruptly. “Do you know how to cook?”

“Mediocre,” she said, blinking at him. “And I’m better at baking, I think. I like making sweets.”

“Good,” Jiang Cheng said, relieved. “That’s – good. I’m glad. Will you marry me?”

Qin Su bit her lip. “Let me think about it?”

Thoughtful, he added to the list. Cautious, not reckless.

“Take all the time you need,” he said.

She came back to him two shichen later. “What happens to A-Song?” she asked.

“I’ll adopt him as my own,” Jiang Cheng said. “Or he can keep the surname Jin, if you prefer. And if Lianfeng-zun agrees, which I think he will – it’s his birthright, after all.” Too many times over. “Jin Ling lives with me sometimes; they can grow up as cousins, the way they should.”

Qin Su nodded, lips trembling a little. “You won’t regret this?”

“I might,” Jiang Cheng admitted. “But I’m probably not going to marry anyone else, and I’m willing. Are you?”

“I am,” she said, and smiled at him. Her eyes were still red, and the smile shaky, but it was something. “Thank you. I…no, never mind.”

“If we’re going to be married, you’re going to need to learn to ask things of me,” he reminded her.

Qin Su wiped her eyes. “Yes, but there’s asking reasonable things, and then there’s asking to alert my former husband before we announce our engagement.”

“Oh, no, that’s a great idea,” Jiang Cheng said, immediately relieved. “If there’s one thing Lianfeng-zun knows, it’s how to manage an announcement of that sort of magnitude. We should definitely tell him.”

Qin Su’s smile this time was stronger.

Nie Huaisang pulled a few strings and got Jin Guangyao to come over to the Unclean Realm, and when he walked in and saw Qin Su, he flinched. Jiang Cheng could see on his face that he still loved her, and he felt bad for him – not enough to stop, but still.

“I see,” Jin Guangyao said, hearing the plan. His expression was surprisingly neutral – thoughtful, but not as upset as Jiang Cheng would have expected. “It’s not a bad idea. And you don’t even need to admit to adultery, either.”

“We don’t?” Jiang Cheng asked, surprised.

“We can say that my marriage with A-Su broke down after my father’s actions - painting them as recent, rather than ancient,” Jin Guangyao explained. “I didn’t feel I could oppose him, she had no choice but to do so – it was an irrevocable breach. You came to comfort her, having met her during your visits with Jin Ling, and her sect is in need of support…you can say it developed naturally from there. It might not work to quell the rumors, of course, but it would at least provide a way to save face in public…Leave it to me.”

“Thank you, A-Yao,” Qin Su said quietly, and he smiled at her, pained.

“Just be happy,” he said to her, then looked at Jiang Cheng. “Treat her well.”

“I will,” Jiang Cheng promised, and took her by the hand. “I swear.”

-

It was a few years later. Nie Huaisang sat beside Jiang Cheng.

“I think he killed my brother,” he said, playing with his fan. “I’m going to destroy him.”

Jiang Cheng stared at the newest memorial tablet in the Lotus Pier, his hands clenched into fists with knuckles turned white.

“Good,” he said, voice savage. “I’ll help.”

#mdzs #jiang cheng #qin su #jin guangyao #nie huaisang #my fic #my fics #I'm sorry

[recurring-polynya]

*sees you like Discworld character, sees you like Renruki* how do you think a Discword Renruki AU would look?

Unfortunately, a Discworld Renruki AU is simply impossible, at least for me. The problem, you see, is that I crib my entire characterization of everyone out of combinations of Discworld characters. I get a lot of positive comments about my characterization of Byakuya and Renji, but I will tell you my secret. In fact, I made you a diagram:

Renji is six feet tall and red-headed and has a lot of muscles. He has an innate sense of right and wrong, he wears his heart on his sleeve and he has bags of krisma. But he also comes from the streets and he will break the rules if he needs to, and he would understand the Sam Vimes Boots Theory of Economics in his soul (or soles, as the case may be). 

Byakuya is rich and powerful, a Son of the Seireitei, but he doesn’t have the kind of power Veterinari has, he’s not a machinator. He really is sort of a man on the street, trying to keep the peace and sighing a lot. I constantly have Renji pulling one over on him by affecting an act of guileless goonishness, just like Carrot does to Vimes. Also, Byakuya would kill a king if he had to.

I admit, I also occasionally throw in a bit of Sybil when I am writing Byakuya-at-home-- he’s as noble as you can possible get; he’s good at being noble and knows how to work the system, but he would really just rather be at home with his dragons orchids. Also, he is easily charmed by dirtbags. 

Byakuya and Renji must be in the Watch, there is no other possibility, but the nobility in Discworld are disgusted by the Watch, except for Vimes, who came about his nobility illicitly. Rukia is mostly Angua, except when she’s Susan Sto Helit. She can’t work for Byakuya, but also be his sister. It just doesn’t work. 

(In other parts of town, Urahara is somehow simultaneously Moist von Lipwig, Rincewind, and Cut-Me-Own-Throat Dibbler. All four Karakura kids smush together to form Tiffany Aching.)

I think the problem is simply that Discworld is a tremendous work of character writing. You could easily drop an OC in there somewhere, but I can’t do an AU where I replaced the characters, because Discworld is its citizenry.

Now, what would work is dropping Discworld characters wholesale into the Bleach universe. The Watch could just form a Fourteenth Division, except that Detritus and Littlebottom would have discovered the murdered Central 46 roughly 28 hours before Hitsugaya and Matsumoto did. Vimes would punch Byakuya in the jaw in the middle of a Captains’ Meeting for trying to get Rukia executed in the first place. Nobby would somehow managed to lift the Hougyoku off of Aizen as he was escaping to Hueco Mundo.

Edit (because I forgot): The Ramkins would be the heretofore-unnamed Fourth Noble House. Sybil loved Hisana, and has a good relationship with Byakuya because she Gets Him, even though Sam still wants to wring his neck 90% of the time.

We never actually see much of the Kidou Corps in Bleach, and I see no reason why they aren’t just the staff of the Unseen University. Who else would think it was a good idea to give Yamamoto a kidou cannon, but Mustrum Ridcully? (”D’you think we might be able to do a bit of hunting with it? Shoot a Menos, like?”) Akon and Ponder Stibbons would be besties.

Karakura Town, Lancre, same difference. Granny Weatherwax would take one look at the Karakura kids and declare them all Hers. She would also punch Urahara in the jaw. Nanny Ogg goes to Isshin’s clinic for her rheumatism medicine, and also to pinch his ass. Agnes would declare herself a Vizard (Perdita rather likes the idea that perhaps she is an Inner Hollow, despite the fact that she very much is not), and they let her hang around because she has a great singing voice.

Ironically, I cannot figure out where Death fits into this AU, but please enjoy one of my favorite fanfics of all time, where Death adopts baby Rukia. It is exquisite.

#i couldn't manage to fit this in anywhere #but i am constantly striving to make the Seireitei exists as An Entity the way Anhk-Morpork does #i am only partially successful at best but i try #i mean it's a city of inscrutable maze-streets and battle-grid floors it's kind of a miracle i do as well as i do #also every time i talk about rude rukongai songs i am talking about nanny's rude hedgehog song #there you go now you know all my 'writing secrets' #angua is from an entirely different branch of the werewolf family tree than komamura #they get along just fine but get pissy if you get their cultures mixed up #there is NO WAY renji and carrot would not be best friends #carrot would start a seireitei dwarf bread musuem and renji would come and ask polite questions about the bread #search your heart you know it's true

[misseffie]

Is Gendry illiterate?

Short answer: Probably not. 

Long answer: 

I’ve noticed a lot of fanfiction trying to address Gendry’s illiteracy once he becomes a noble. Most fics depict him as being completely illiterate. Some depict him as having some level of literacy, but not enough for his new position. So let’s try to figure it out, shall we?

Part 1: Literacy

We have this assumption that in medieval times no one could read or write unless they were part of the nobility. That is not quite true. Firstly, we have to understand what it meant to be literate by medieval standards: 

“In Medieval times, “Literate” actually meant able to read and write in Latin, which was considered to be the language of learning. Being able to read and write in the vernacular wasn’t considered real learning at all. Most peasants prior to the Black Death (which really shook up society) had little chance to learn - hard labouring work all of the hours of daylight does’t leave a lot of energy for reading or writing.

It’s worth noting, however the panic amongst the ruling classes when translations of The Bible started to appear written in English. This really started in the late 14th Century (about 30 years after the Black Death). The level of panic suggests that the Ruling Classes knew that the numbers of people who could read and write English was far greater than the numbers who could read Latin.”

However, there is no language quite like Latin in Westeros. The closest we come to something similar is High Valyrian. Which noble children seem to have a basic understanding of. We can safely assume that Gendry doesn’t have extensive knowledge of High Valyrian - so he is illiterate in that regard. But I don’t think High Valyrian is as widely used as Latin was in the Middle Ages. It’s also not a language with religious significance. As the Faith of the Seven doesn’t use High Valyrian the way that the Catholic Church used Latin.

So… taking that into account. What I assume that is meant by “literate” in Westeros is being able to read and write in the Common Tongue. 

I will say that even by those parameters I don’t think most of the commoners would have been literate. However, Gendry was not in the same situation as most of the commoners.

Which leads me to... 

Part 2: Socio-economic class in Medieval Times

The level of literacy among the commonfolk has to be examined on a case by case basis.

Literacy among “peasants” varied a lot depending on circumstance. So, for example, it’s not strange that Davos, who was a smuggler prior to meeting Stannis, was illiterate. Or Gilly, who was completely isolated from the world and in terrible conditions.

But Gendry is in a different situation.

As @arsenicandfinelace pointed out in this cool meta:

Gendry was definitely born low-class, as an unrecognised bastard whose mother was a tavern girl (read: one step away from prostitute). But the whole point of apprenticing with Tobho Mott is that that was a major leap forward for him, socially.

As Davos put it in 3x10, “The Street of Steel? You lived in the fancy part of town.” Yes, a tradesman of any kind is leagues below the nobility, and could never ever be worthy of marrying a highborn girl like Arya. But Tobho Mott is a master craftsman, the best armourer in the capital city of a heavily martial country. As far as tradesman go, he’s the best of the best, and charges accordingly.

There’s a reason Varys had to pay out the ass to get Gendry apprenticed there. If he had stayed, completed his apprenticeship, and eventually taken over the workshop, he would have been very wealthy (by commoner standards) and respectable (again, by commomner standards), despite his low birth.

Tobho Mott is a tradesman and a craftsman. He is part of the merchant class. * Merchants are often referred to as a different class from the rest of the population. The merchant class in Medieval Times was closer to the middle class of contemporary times.

“By the 15th century, merchants were the elite class of many towns and their guilds controlled the town government. Guilds were all-powerful and if a merchant was kicked out of one, he would likely not be able to earn a living again.”

Mott would be considered to be part of the merchant class - and not even a common kind of merchant either. He was the best Blacksmith in all of King's Landing, the capital of the Seven Kingdoms. So we can assume that Tobho Mott was a very wealthy and powerful craftsman and merchant.  

“That many 'middle class' people (tradesmen, merchants and the like) could read and write in the late middle ages cannot be disputed.”

I’m not saying that all tradesmen/merchants/craftsmen were literate back then. It was still a smaller percentage than the nobility. Only the richer and more influential of tradesmen would learn Latin. But I think most of them would be literate enough in the vernacular to run a business. Considering Mott’s reputation and his clientele I’m certain that Mott is part of that literate percentage.

In season 2, Arya accidentally reveals to Tywin that she can read. Realizing her mistake she covers up by saying that her father, a ’stonemason', taught her. Of course, I don’t think that completely fooled Tywin but why did Arya say her father was Stonemason. Why did his profession matter at all? Surely it wouldn’t have mattered if he was a fisherman or a farmer... a peasant is a peasant, right?

Wrong.

“The Medieval Stonemason asserts that they were not monks but highly skilled craftsmen who combined the roles of architect, builder, craftsman, designer, and engineer. Many, if not all masons of the Middle Ages learnt their craft through an informal apprentice system”

“Children from merchants and craftsmen were able to study longer and continuous, so they were able to learn Latin at a later age. This way, everyone learned to read and write (some better than others) sufficiently for their trade.”

Stonemasons were the architects of the time and no doubt the top tier was literate.

Many trades (by the 15th C) required reading and writing, so it was taught to apprentices by the masters. We know from apprenticeship agreements that many masters were expected to continue the apprentice's literacy or start it, which makes sense for the wider viability of the trade.

The War of the Roses took place in the late 15th Century. So I’m guessing that that’s the time period that ASOIAF is mostly based on.

Part 3: Level of literacy

I think it’s safe to say that Gendry has some level of literacy. However, his “level” is pretty much up for debate. If he’d finished his apprenticeship it’s likely he’d have a decent level of reading/writing comprehension. However, near the end of his apprenticeship he was kicked out.

I’m not sure how much Gendry could read/write by the time that he was kicked out by Tobho Mott. But he’d already been his apprentice for 10 years (in show canon). More than enough time to get some basic reading/writing/basic math lessons. 

It seems that show!Gendry is more likely to have a higher level of literacy than book!Gendry. In the show, he leaves Tobho Mott at 16, while in the book he is 14. This is just my own impression, but I think his education would be more complete by age 16 than age 14.

Not to mention that book!Gendry is still in the Riverlands and working for outlaws. But in the show we can assume that Gendry has been smithing in King’s Landing for years and it is insinuated that he owns a shop. Meaning he might have reached “Master” status and can take on apprentices of his own. It might seem like Gendry is too young for that. But it’s actually not that strange. 

“Apprentices stayed with their masters for seven to nine years before they were able to claim journeyman status. Journeyman blacksmiths possessed the basic skills necessary to work alongside their master, seek work with other shops, or even open their own businesses.”

Considering that Gendry has been with Mott for 10 years in show!canon, it’s possible that Gendry was a “journeyman” and not an “apprentice” by the time that Ned meets him in season 1. But he might be nearing the end of his apprenticeship in the books.

Guilds also required journeymen to submit work for examination each year in each area of expertise. So, a journeyman who perhaps crafted swords, locks, and keys would need to submit each item to his guild annually for inspection. If the guild approved the craftsmanship of the products, the journeyman could eventually move up to master status.

The process of becoming a master could take from 2 to 5 years. Considering that Gendry is regarded as talented, it’s likely that he achieved this in a shorter period of time. As a journeyman he also needed to work alongside a master for 3 to 4 years before he could obtain master status. Which would still explain why he was so upset at being kicked out by Mott - it’s like someone getting kicked out while they’re trying to obtain a PHD. 

By the time we meet him in season 7 it’s very possible that Gendry is now considered a master of his trade.

He also seems to be making armour and weapons for “Lannisters” which means he has a mostly noble clientele. He probably has plenty of fancy clients asking for custom-made products. With sketches and measurements and all that shit. Which is not surprising since he probably has a de facto reputation simply by merit of being Tobho Mott’s apprentice (lets ignore how dumb it is that no one discovered that Gendry was in King’s Landing since he made no effort to hide who he was or try to hide from the nobility lol).

Conclusion: 

It’s safe to say that Gendry had some access to higher education. He can probably read and write enough for his line of work. It’s likely that his level would still leave much to be desired once he became a noble though. For comparison, imagine if someone left school at age 11 and was then required to write a college-level thesis. So he’d definitely need some “lordly” writing lessons and further education.

Gendry is still wildly uneducated for what he needs to do. So...

This meme is still gold 10/10

* Correction: Though Mott would be considered part of the same socio-economic class as merchants he is primarily a tradesman/craftsman, and would be referred to as such. Since merchants didn’t produce the goods they sold. However they could belong to the same guild, along with artisans and craftsmen. 

#gendry baratheon #gendry waters #gendrya #asoiaf meta #got meta

[nevermindirah]

I've been drafting and redrafting this meta post for weeks now. It's about to be 5781 and my country that was founded on settler colonial genocide and slavery and a deeply flawed but fierce attachment to democracy might go full dictatorship in about 6 weeks and it's time for me to post this thing.

All our immortals are warriors, all have been traumatized by war. But only three of them died their first deaths as soldiers in imperial armies. This fandom has already produced gallons of meta on Nicky dealing with his shit, because Joe would not fuck with an unapologetic Crusader. But there's very rich stuff in Booker and Nile's experiences and the parallels and distinctions between them.

Nile was 11 when her dad was killed in action - that was 2005, meaning she and her dad both died in the same war that George W Bush started in very tenuous response to 9/11. Sure, Nile's dad could have died in either Iraq or Afghanistan, or in a training accident or in an off-the-books mission we won't know about for a hundred more years, but he died in the War on Terror all the same. I had to look it up to be sure because Obama "drew down" the Afghanistan war in his second term, but nope, we're still in this fucking thing that never should've happened in the first place. The US war in Afghanistan just turned 19 years old. A lot of real-life Americans have experiences like the Freemans, parents and children both dying in the same war we shouldn't be in.

I know a lot of people like Nile who join the US military not just because it's the only realistic way for them to pay for college or afford decent healthcare, but also because they have a family history of military service that's a genuine source of pride. Military service has been a way for Americans of color to be accepted by white Americans as "true Americans" - from today's Dreamers who Obama promised would earn protection from deportation by enlisting, to Filipino veterans of WW2 earning US citizenship that Congress then denied them for several decades, to slaves "earning" their freedom through service in the Union Army and in the Continental Army before it. As if freedom is a thing one should have to earn. Lots of Black Americans have the last name Freeman for lots of different escaping-slavery reasons, but it's possible that this specific reason is how Nile got her last name.

Dying in a war you know your country chose to instigate unnecessarily and that maybe you believe it shouldn't be waging is a very particular kind of trauma. It is a much deeper trauma when your military service, and your father's, and maybe generations of your ancestors', is a source of pride and access to resources for you but your sacrifice is nearly meaningless to the white supremacist system that deploys you. That kind of cognitive dissonance encourages a person to ignore their own feelings just so they can function. How do you wake up in the morning, how do you risk your life every day, how do you *kill other people* in a war that shouldn't be happening and that you shouldn't have to serve in just so that your country sees you as human?

We see Nile do her best to be a kind and well-mannered invader. Depending on your experience with US imperialism, Nile giving candy to kids and reminding her squad to be respectful is either heartwarming or very disturbing propaganda. We also see Nile clutching her cross necklace and praying. From the second Christianity arrived on this land it's been a tool of white supremacist assimilation and control, but like military service, it's a fucked-up but genuine source of pride and access to resources for many Americans whose pre-Columbian ancestors were not Christian, and it's a powerful source of comfort and resilience. This Jew who's had a lot of Spanish Inquisition nightmares would like to say for the record that it's not Jesus's fault that his big name fans are such shitty people.

Nile is a good person trying to do her best in a fucked-up world. "Her best" just radically changed. Her access to information on just how fucked up the world is has also just radically changed, because everything's so fucked up a person needs a lot of time to learn about it all and not only does she have centuries but she won't have to spend that time worrying about rent and healthcare and taxes, and because she now has Joe and Nicky and Andy's stories, and because she now has Copley's inside scoop on just what the fuck the CIA has been up to. Like, I want a fic where Copley tells Nile what was really behind the brass's decisions that led to her experiences on the ground in Afghanistan, that led to her father's death, but also I Do Not Want That.

Nile was 19 when Alicia Garza posted on Facebook that Black Lives Matter. She grew up in Chicago well before white people on Twitter were saying maybe police violence against Black people is a problem. She knows this is a deeply fucked up country, and she put on her Marine uniform and deployed with her team of mostly fellow women of color, and maybe she and Dizzy and Jay marched in the streets between deployments, maybe they texted each other when a white manarchist at a protest sneered at one of them for being a Marine. Nile's been busy surviving, and she knows some shit and she's seen some shit but she hasn't had much time to think about what it all means. Now she's got time. And Joe, Nicky, and Andy are willing to listen. (Is Copley willing to listen? I could see that going either way.)

Booker might also be willing to listen. The brilliant idea of cleaning up the rat Frenchman so that Nile can have millennia of emotional support and orgasms sent me down a Wikipedia rabbit hole, and holy shit do Booker and Nile have a lot of shared life experience as pawns of imperial wars. Obviously Booker is white and a man and that makes a very big difference. (Though G-d help me, Booker could be Jewish and France was knocking its Jews around like ping-pong balls in the 18th-19th centuries. Jewish Booker wouldn't make him any less white but it does add a shit ton of depth of common experience: military service as a way for your country to see you as a full member of society who matters, because who you are means that's not guaranteed.)

Booker was hanged for desertion from the army Napoleon sent to invade Russia as part of his quest to control all of Europe. We learn in the comics / this YouTube video that Booker was on his way to prison for forgery when he was offered military service instead of jail time. While we don't know how he felt about the choice beyond that he did choose soldier over inmate, it's unlikely he thought invading Russia was a great idea, given he tried to desert because Napoleon like a true imperialist dumbass didn't plan for how he was going to feed his army or keep them from freezing to death in fucking Russian winter.

I find it very interesting that the French Empire was at its largest right before invading Russia and fell apart completely within a few years. My country has been falling the fuck apart for a while now - see aforementioned War on Terror, growing extremes of economic stratification in the richest country in the world, abject refusal to meaningfully deal with climate change that US-based corporations hold the lion's share of blame for - but between Trump's abject refusal to meaningfully deal with the coronavirus and strong likelihood that he'll refuse to leave office even if a certain pathetic moderate I will hold my nose and vote for does manage to earn a majority of votes, ~y~i~k~e~s.

Our only immortals who have never known a world before modernity and nationalism happen to have been born of wars that were the beginning of the end for the imperialist democracies that raised them, and I think in the centuries to come that's going to give them some very interesting shit to talk about.

Nile's a Young Millennial, a digital native born in the United States after the collapse of the USSR left her country as the world's only superpower. She's used to a pace of technological change that human brains are not evolved to handle.

Napoleon trying to make all of Europe into the French Empire was a leading cause of the growth of European nationalism and the establishment of liberal democracies both in Europe and in many places that Europeans had colonized. Booker's first war produced the only geopolitical world order Nile has ever known and I just have so many feelings ok. Nile the art history nerd is probably not aware of this, and why would she be? This humble meta author is, like Nile, a product of US public schools, and all they taught me about world history was Ancient Greece/Rome/Egypt/Mesopotamia and then World War 2. Being raised in The World's Only Superpower is WEIRD.

Nile the Young Millennial is used to the devastating volume of bad news the internet makes possible. But she has absolutely no concept of a world where the United States of America is not The World's Only Superpower. In order to get up in the morning and put on her gear and point guns at civilians in Afghanistan, she can only let herself think so much about whether that American exceptionalism thing is a good idea.

She's about to spend many, many years where the only people who she can truly trust are people who are older than not only her country but the IDEA of countries.

She's got time, and she's got a lot of new information at her disposal. But there comes a point where my obsession with her friendship and eventual very hot sex life with Booker just isn't about sex at all. Nile needs someone to talk to about the United States who Gets It. Booker the rat Frenchman coerced into Napoleon's army, and Copley the Black dual citizen of the US and UK who's retired from a CIA career that he half understands as deeply problematic but half still believes in hence his mind-bogglingly stupid partnership with Merrick, are the only people on the planet Nile can talk to honestly about, and really be understood in, all the thoughts and feelings and fears and hopes of her experience as a US Marine.

And one more thing before I go get ready for Rosh Hashanah: Orientalism was a defining element of the Crusades and that legacy is painfully clear in current US-led Western military activity in Afghanistan, Syria, Israel/Palestine, you name it. Turns out memoirs by French veterans of the Napoleonic Wars are full of Orientalist language about Russia as well. I am maybe/definitely writing a fic where Booker spends his exile reading critical race theory and decolonial feminism and trauma studies monographs because he can't be honest with a therapist but maybe he can heal this way and become the team therapist his own damn self. I just really need him to read Edward Said and Gloria Anzaldúa and then go down on Nile, ok?

#nile freeman #tog meta #book of nile #sebastien le livre #the old guard #mine #us imperialism #european imperialism #jewish things #antiblackness #police violence #orientalism

[thewildwaffle]

Shiny Rocks

This story idea was suggested by a user on ao3

Everyone in the Planetary Acquisition Requests Office was stumped. It wasn’t completely unheard of to get requests for planetary resource rights from two or three separate groups at a time for the same planet, but the current situation was barring on ridiculous! Planet AL-471 had been discovered fairly recently. Reports of it were made known publicly across the galactic community, as was standard procedure for a newly discovered planetoid. Since then, hundreds - that’s right- hundreds of resource rights requests have flooded in. After the first dozen or so, Liat thought it was some sort of joke. But the requests just kept coming. In almost no time, they were up to their lateral fins in request paperwork. “We just got three more requests for AL-471,” Makeenitee, a small, multi-legged teyer complained in a high squeaky voice from across the office. A choir of low growls, clicks, and groans quickly followed. “That’s it, this is getting ridiculous!” Bryeabar stood up from her workspace. With her long legs, she crossed the office to Makeenitee in no time. “Where are these even coming from?” The small teyer activated the holographic settings on their datapad to let Bryeabar see. “It looks like a third of them, oh wait,” Makeenitee looked at the data, “no another one just came in. About a third of them are from the Solis 26 Sector.” Half the room glanced at each other with a knowing look. Solis 26. One system in that area had a life-supporting star. Nine planetoids orbited that star. The third one being the infamous Earth.

“So humans.” Liat sighed, stating what everyone had already figured out. “Okay. Who else wants access to the planet?” Makeenitee opened up the files of all the previous requests and scanned through the information. “Looks like an engineering and development guild from the chiatoru home-world, as well as a few requests from the Tret 4 System.” Liat nodded, “So the kloxans and a few bookas. That at least makes sense. Anyone else?” “There are a few more scattered around, but it looks like most of them are from human colony worlds or organizations.” Everyone in the office shared a look again. The question on everyone’s mind was ‘why?’ Why were so many humans wanting access? Why this planet? Without having to be asked by anyone, Liat opened up a new holographic screen on the report of the planet in such high demand. Planet AL-471, thus named because no official name had been bestowed by caretakers as of yet, was one of the newly discovered planets on the far end of charted space. It had been explored by a Galactic Confederation ship. Their exploration crew had managed a planet-side of a small team who were able to take samples from the surface and run seismograph tests. According to their findings, the planet’s composition was approximately 86% carbon allotropes, with the other 14% being made up of a long list of different metals and minerals and trace amounts of gases. As such, it was not a likely candidate for colonization, as it was incapable of sustaining life. It was certainly an odd planet, but the galaxy was full of strange things. “Does anyone know much about humans, or why so many want access to the planet?” Liat finally broke the silence. Heads all around the office started swiveling around to see if anyone would have answers. A wispy form near the middle of the room spoke up. “I think humans are supposed to really like shiny things, right? The planet’s mostly made out of diamond. Maybe they just think it’s pretty?” A murmur of voices and quiet chuckles hummed throughout the office. Liat shook his head and took a closer look at the list of resource rights requests. There were a few names and descriptions of groups and companies that sounded like they could be after the diamond for industrial reasons. They weren’t the majority, certainly, but there was quite a collection of them. There were a lot of other names on the list that he was a bit more skeptical of their reasoning. Was that what they were after? Pretty rocks? It couldn’t be something so simple like that, right? Liat sighed. “First things first, we need to get someone in here that understands humans if we’re ever going to get through all these requests.” It took a while, but after a search through the entire bureau headquarters, an expert on humans was found. Human Roy wasn’t overly thrilled to be pulled away from whatever projects he had been working on back in his department, but he stood patiently enough in front of the office. Liat explained the situation to him briefly and showed him an extensive list of requests. "Can you help us make sense of this? Any insights or knowledge about why so many humans would want access to the planet so badly? It would help us make fair decisions as we accept or reject the requests." Human Roy scanned over the information a few more times. Everyone watched silently, not wanting to miss a word the human could help them with. After what felt like partecs, Human Roy scrunched up his face in an amusing expression. “What did you say this planet was made of again? Diamond?” “Among other things, yes.” “Then that’s why,” Human Roy straightened his posture and crossed his arms over his chest. “If that’s all you need, I have a deadline I need to make.” Liat and the others in the office looked at each other and Human Roy with perplexed expressions. “Wait,” Liat stopped Roy from leaving, “that’s it? That can’t be the only thing? Look at this list! There’s got to be something we’re not understanding here!” Human Roy huffed and turned back to the list. “Look,” he pointed at a few names on the list. “There are a few legitimate requests here. Not that I know all the ins and outs of your guy’s job, but I’d figure some of these are actually wanting the diamonds to use for construction or medical or engineering or whatever uses diamonds can be put to these days. The rest of these,” he ran his hand down to gesture at the remaining names, “Likely want access because it’s a freaking planet made out of diamond. They don’t want resources, they want status.” Liat blinked his stalk eyes slowly. “Status?” “Status. Diamonds have been a status symbol of wealth on Earth for, well, I don’t know, a long time. Personally, I never really saw the appeal. When it comes to fancy rocks, I think garnets and opals are pretty. I mean, sure, diamonds have some cool qualities and properties and whatnot. That’s why there are a few legitimate requests on this list,” Roy gestured to the names he had mentioned before, “But honestly, I’d really scrutinize the rest of these. I’d be interested in what the legit requesters would do with that much diamond.” “So, you’re saying that most of these just want…” Liat paused, trying to process all this. “They don’t even need the diamond?” “Mmmm, no. I’d say a lot of them just want to be able to say that they control giant diamonds on some far-flung planet somewhere.” Makeenitee spoke up from her seat, “But I don’t understand. If diamonds are so important to humans, wouldn’t this planet throw off supply and demand systems on Earth and human colony worlds?” “I have no idea. I’m in the communications bureau, not intergalactic economics.” Human Roy shifted his weight and sighed. “All I know is that back on Earth, diamonds have been marketed for - I don’t know, ever- that they are rare and super precious and everyone needs one and blah blah blah. They’re not rare though. Earth and pretty much all of the colony worlds have plenty of diamonds. Granted, none of them are the size of two continents, but hey,” Roy threw his hands up in what looked like a dismissive gesture, “humans like thinking the pretty rocks they’ve been told are super rare are really important.” He looked around at the office of blank alien faces. “Well, if that’s everything, I really do have stuff I need to finish. Good luck with your list.” And before anyone could ask another question, he was gone. Liat looked around at his coworkers then back to the impossibly long list that was still activated in the front of the room. He wished Roy had been able to give them more information that would help them weed through the “legit” requests and those that he said just wanted the diamonds for status. Still, the insight he gave was… interesting. Diamond was certainly a fairly common material across the galaxy, but it was very useful in many applications and often in demand. He hadn’t realized humans also coveted them so highly for purely aesthetic purposes. “Liat,” Makeenitee squeaked, “what do we do now?” Liat sighed and turned his attention back to the impossibly long list. It looked like it had grown a bit longer in all this. Each one of those organizations listed would need to be researched and be given a thorough background check. Then a series of shortlists would be composed and cross-referenced with each other according to resource requests and allocated resources available on the planet. “We’re going to do our jobs,” Liat finally broke the apprehensive silence. “Everyone, break up into teams of three and we’ll work our way down. Start from the top. The humans have made sure we’re going to be at this a while.”

#humans are weird #shiny rocks #diamond #humans are space orcs #space #aliens #planets #writeblr #original writing

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 149

So, I was super busy on my normal queueing day and wasn’t able to set this up. And by ‘super busy’ I mean ‘doing laundry, weeding flower beds, and taking several naps’, bc I have upwards of 24 niblings and a super-full time job that make me exhausted.

I’m not kidding, I recently told @baelpenrose “I had a birthday party to go to, yes it’s the third Saturday in a row, don’t worry about keeping track because there are SO MANY”. 

What doesn’t make me exhausted? Y’all. The likes, the comments, the reblogs, the ‘hey, this person reads my stuff AND Bael’s stuff’ ( @feral-possums-in-the-bog, @drbibliophile, looking at you in a very loving way). Also the speedrunners... all of you who have ever, at any point, found this fic and decided to read every single chapter as quickly as possible ( and have or haven’t shamed me for needing to update the masterpost or page links), you keep me going like nothing else. I, too, like a good binge read, so I know I’ve done something worth... something... when someone else binges like that.

“So the Ark is semi-organic?” I glanced over and resisted the urge to trail my fingers along the walls of the corridor.

“That would be the closest Terran approximation, yes,” they confirmed. “It is not sentient in any form, but all exposed surfaces, for example, are grown in-place of a material native to our home planet.”

“So cool,” I whispered. “Is there a benefit to that, aside from being more sustainable?”

Noah rubbed two liw alongside their sensory organs, and let out a soft buzz - essentially rubbing their face with a sigh. “It is very rare for any species that achieves sentience to reach a level of technology that allows for faster than light travel without what you refer to as sustainability being included in every aspect of their culture.”

“Oh.” I felt ashamed and focused on my feet for a few steps, paying close attention to the feeling of the deck plating through my soles, any uneven textures that I came across turning into canyons of perception.

“In the case of the material coating the surfaces of the Ark,” Noah continued, clearly picking up on my discomfort, “it serves a largely hygienic function, much as Else currently provides.”

“So, that’s what Xio was referring to when she said that Hujylsogox ships largely decontaminate themselves?”

“Indeed. Where my species absorbs impurities from the air and any surfaces we come in contact with, the lining of the corridors, rooms, and vents can purify the rest within a Galactic week.” That worked out to eleven and two-third days as we currently measured them on the Ark, or fourteen and a half days on Earth. “Biofiltration is a very common way to sanitize spaces that often house multiple species to avoid destructive interactions, although the coating we use is known to be the most efficient organic solution.”

Surrendering, I ran my fingers over the wall.  Even knowing that it was grown, it still felt like sandstone under my touch. “If it is so efficient, why don’t the Ekomari use it on their ships?”

Their fingers on both vomu clacked as they tapped them together. “In absence of another organism to ingest the larger particulates, sypo is what you would consider to be too efficient.”

“Feathers clog it up?”

“Like you would not believe,” they hummed deeply - a groan, clear as day. “It actually ends up starving the sypo.”

Unbidden, my mind’s eye flashed back to the nightmares that Else had shown me early on: large flakes of the walls falling away and littering the corridor floors. “So, that was a very real thing?” There didn’t seem to be any reason to clarify, given how clearly the images had blared in my head.

“Correct. We believe that Else understood the nature of the material and was trying to show you what was happening in a way they thought you would understand.” A heavy liw gently patted my shoulder. “They meant well, even if they did not realize that it would backfire.”

I was about to ask what the Ekomari use in place of sypo as a biofilter, but my databand signaled me. Judging by the fact that it chimed, flashed, and vibrated against the bones in my wrist, this was incredibly urgent. “I’m sorry, Noah, one mom - ah, fuck…” Pinching the bridge of my nose, I mentally braced myself for what I knew would be coming in the next several days.

“Wisdom, you are distressed.”

“Departmental notification from Pranav and Zach that they will be doing system security testing over the next week. Which means Derek will be doing his best to hack into our systems and take them out, while Pranav and Zach take notes of vulnerabilities and then fix them afterward.”

The face-rubbing sigh was back. “They are not including basic ship functions in this testing, correct?”

I shook my head, relieved that I could at least provide that assurance. “Negative. Only the systems that humans will be replicating on our own once we are on Von.”

“This is still terribly inconvenient. These tests increase tension across the Ark to quite difficult levels to be around.”

“I know, and I’m sorry. It’s mostly from what happened Before, at least for the older members of the crew.  I mean, we got a Global Parliament out of it, but… there were a scary few years before we got there. And then the End happened, and the hack felt like some kind of warning looking back.”

Noah buzzed thoughtfully. “You are speaking of the gap in data we found when we were trying to download your planetary database.”

A part of me wanted to laugh at the fact that Miys continued to refer to the internet as a ‘planetary database’, but the topic was so upsetting that any kind of joy felt obscene right then. “It was… another terrorist attack, honestly.  They weren’t unusual, as terrifying as that is - I mean, you admitted yourself that not all of us were worth saving.  There was a petrochemical hack maybe five years before this one, and the attacks had been ramping up slowly even before that.  But this one.”  I shook my head trying to clear the thoughts from my head. “What we were told is that this group knew we would never take action against climate change, something about how the rich corporate would never take it seriously until they had to actually live in the nature they were destroying.”

“You are doubtful of this.” Noah’s statement was far from being a question.

Couldn’t blame him, since I didn’t believe half of what we had been told, or maybe that it was only half the story. “I wasn’t old enough to remember, but it is a recorded fact that there were actual people on Earth who had more wealth than any single country on the planet, and one was particularly known for building his fortune on the backs of employees who were worked to death or nearly to death.  It’s hard to believe that had nothing to do with it, you know.”

“If being reminded of this event causes such distress among your people, why run so many tests?”

“The hack killed people, Noah. It destroyed entire small countries, caused a lot of violence and wars. The ultra-rich may have been the targets, but the casualties were mostly people who never knew what was happening.  We want to make sure it can’t happen again.  That’s why we warn everyone what’s going on, so they know it’s not the same thing, but still do the testing.”

More clattering of vomu signaled Noah thinking again. “Your global economy depended strongly on the concept of wealth and the concept of money.  But with the current economic model you exercise, such a data security breach would not impact it.”

I shrugged. “We still worry. Not to mention the fact that, at some point, someone may try. We can try all we want to avoid the catalyst of the original events, but some of our better qualities can be just as terrible with just a twist.  Curiosity, confidence, and justice and easily turn into pride, vindictiveness, and prying. Which can lead to blackmail. And that’s just one example. Still sure we’re worth it?”

Another thoughtful buzz with some mild clicking. “I have seen your people endeavor to save a species that could have destroyed you.  I have seen you, specifically, mourn someone who deliberately attempted to end not only your life but the lives of the entire Ark.  There is much evidence to give us faith in your compassion.”

All I could do was shake my head. “I’ll try to have faith in your faith,” I murmured with a weak smile.

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#the miys #found family #humans are weird #science fiction #aliens #apocalypse #humans are space orcs #humans are space fae #earth is space australia #post apocalypse #post post apocalypse #original science fiction #original sci fi #original writing

[deiliamedlini]

WIP Wednesday

I’ve mostly been just writing the newest pirate chapter that I posted yesterday (subtle plug hahaha), but this was what I was working on just before. This is from the same fic as this WIP Wednesday. I don’t want to post this one yet because it still kind of sucks (like this, which is not edited at all), so I’m still fixing everything I have so far before actually posting. But today isn’t called Post a Fic Wednesday, it’s called WIP Wednesday, and this is a WIP!

Essentially, Link is tasked with training Zelda to defend herself after a series of Yiga attacks on her life. After some time, they’ve become good friends. She has him come to her room for lessons she doesn’t want ‘on the record’ basically, which is why Link is chilling in her room in this section. Totally not to make things unnecessarily dramatic.

~~~

When Link arrived that night, Zelda wasn’t in her room. He poked around for a moment just to make sure, and then relented to sit on her bed to wait for her, setting down his belt on the chest at the foot of her bed as he always did.

It was unusual that she wasn’t there. However, for the past several days, he’d been finding her waiting for him at the window, usually watching him scale the building with a look that betrayed her awe and her horror.

By her bedside were notebooks and tombs, all with marked pages. They ranged from geography, to biology. His hand reached out to take a book about plants, but he heard footsteps in the hall, followed by the booming voice of King Rhoam.

“Shit,” he muttered, looking around quickly before he slid into the closet just as Zelda’s door opened.

“—with the new treaty. I think that would be useful.”

“Yes,” Zelda agreed, softer than her father. “I think that would work, but we’d have to find a way to incorporate the Gerudo as well. Urbosa is instrumental, and I don’t believe we should keep her out.”

“That’s favoritism.”

“That’s being practical,” she challenged.

Rhoam chuckled. “You are learning well, Zelda. We will contact Urbosa immediately to inform her and see her position.”

“Thank you.”

“Well,” Rhoam said, “I’m going to head to bed now. Is there anything you need, or are you all set?”

“I’m fine; thank you.”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he said wistfully.

“Since the Yiga attack? Yes, quite a while.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t been as attentive.”

“No, but it’s really okay. I know the thought is there.”

There was the sound of rustling fabric that Link assumed was Rhoam hugging Zelda.

Then, “What’s that?”

Link peeked his head out to see what the king meant, and when he saw his belt still on Zelda’s trunk, he groaned as quietly as possible.

Zelda was fast, though. Her eyes darted around, looking for him, but she simply tsked, a lie springing to her lips far too easily. “It’s Link’s. He left it after we trained, and I didn’t feel like searching for him afterwards, so I just brought it back with me. I’m going to return it in the morning.”

“Ah,” Rhoam said, picking it up. “You should have gotten it back to him immediately. Looks like there’s some stuff he needs on here. I’m surprised he didn’t seek you out.”

Zelda swallowed and shrugged. “He’s diligent. Maybe he didn’t want to leave his post. Or he has spares. Or, most likely, he knew I’d just return it in the morning.”

“Hrmm, true.” Rhoam examined one of the daggers. “You should keep it in your wardrobe rather than laying around. What if someone did manage to get in here? A Yiga, or some other threat? Then you’ve just left a whole arsenal at the foot of your bed.”

“Then I’d just have weapons at my disposal to defend myself.” Zelda took it and made her way to her closet. “But I understand your point, father. You’re paranoid but—” Zelda yelped in surprise at the sight of Link innocently standing hidden in the closet, his head between two of her dresses.

“Zelda?” her father asked, hurriedly turning to her. “What is it?”

With a quick motion, Zelda pulled the dagger out just a bit and slid her thumb along it.

She turned to Rhoam with a light stream of blood moving down her wrist. “I cut myself. Don’t worry.” Handing Link his belt, as if she were hanging it up, she closed the door, giving him an exasperated look as she did.

Rhoam bit his lip nervously and handed her a nearby cloth. “Good thing you two haven’t covered blades yet. Make sure Link gives you all the safety protocols first. We don’t want that to happen on a larger scale.”

“Yes, father. I know.”

“Need any help with that, or are you all set?”

“I’m just going to wash it out. It’s fine, but thank you.”

“Okay then. Goodnight, Zelda. May the Goddess watch over your sleep.”

“Goodnight, father.”

Rhoam looked her over one more time before closing the door behind him with a tell-tale thud.

Zelda breathed out a sigh of relief. “You almost gave me a heart attack.”

Stepping out of the closet, Link grinned at her and tossed his belt right back onto the chest at the foot of her bed. “You were late.”

“I’m the Princess of Hyrule. I’m not late.”

“Terrible logic,” he said, snorting. But he grabbed a wash basin and brought it to her.

“Thanks.”

He watched her dip her hand into the water and flinch as it lapped over her wound. Resisting the urge to help her, he grabbed the top book from her pile instead.

“No, wait!” Zelda said, crossing the room quickly to try to snatch the book from him, hand dripping still.

“Plants and Horticulture of Hyrule Field.” He raised his eyebrow and flipped to her bookmark. “Are you planning to start a gard—oh!” A grin spread over his face as he read the words on the page. “Guardian technology? Hoarding your blasphemous texts, are we? Are you going to start tinkering with them again?”

“You know I’m not allowed to, so give it back!” Zelda burned red and grabbed his arm to try to pull at him, but with one hand, it was a losing fight. Still, she tried feebly, knowing he’d already seen it, so there wasn’t much reason to really fight anyway. It wasn’t as if he was going to rat her out either. She was simply at the mercy of his teasing for a few moments.

“How did you even get ahold of this?” he chuckled, turning the page at random as his eyes scanned over the words. “Isn’t half of this stuff forbidden to be this close to the castle?”

But they both answered at once, the obvious answer hitting him immediately as Zelda was ready to confess: “Purah.”

This time, Zelda just crossed her arms. “I wanted to… experiment. So, I have a fake cover on it in case someone nosey decides to grab the book! You know my father is paranoid.”

“I do know that.”

“It’s just harmless fun!” she said, still feeling the need to defend herself and her thick tomb. “I’m never allowed to have fun, especially with the books they make me read. I want to read about the blast radius the Guardians have while powered by a massive ancient core! And I want to know the components of a Sheikah slate, so, so badly. My father won’t let me do any of it. I just want to read something that isn’t so political!”

Link hummed and nodded. “That’s true. Those books are the worst. My favorite was, gods, what was it called? An Economic History of the Merchant’s Guild of Hyrule. That’s the one that only spit out rupee facts that you kept telling me, right?”

She blushed a bit more fiercely this time at the level of attention Link had paid her without her realizing, and she pushed him by the arm. “Okay, get out.”

He watched her turn redder by the minute and turned back to her to tap his fingers against the hardcover book tucked in her arms. “You know I’m not making fun of you, right? I think it’s admirable how much you prepare.”

Letting out a breath, she threw herself back onto the bed and slammed her book into her forehead with a groan.

Link chuckled and pried the book from her hands. “I’m serious. You’ll make a good queen.”

Her eyes suddenly darted up to his. She wasn’t sure she’d ever heard anyone tell her that, except maybe her father during her moments of absolute despair when he knew she needed to be cheered up.

Flipping the pages of the Guardian text, Link narrowed his eyes, flipped another page, glanced at her, and then flipped the page again. He waved the book in front of her face. “You wonder why the Goddess doesn’t like you; it’s because you write in your books. Ink is permanent you know.”

She ripped the book from his hand and hit him in the arm with it, doing her best not to let her laugh at his jab break through her angry façade. “I’m aware.”

Watching a drop of blood trail down her finger, Link reached out and cupped her hand in his just before the long trail dropped onto the page. “That’ll stain almost as much as ink. You should wrap that up.”

Zelda let him lead her back to the water, keeping the blood in his hand until they were safe. He dipped his hands in first and shook them out, noticing that there was only one rag.

“Thank you.”

“You really shouldn’t have done that, you know,” Link said, watching the water turn redder.

“I had to think fast, okay? Try ‘thank you for not letting me get caught in your closet, Zelda.’ If I can do it, so can you.”

“Fine. Thank you. I appreciate you covering for me, but you didn’t have to injure yourself to cause an appropriate distraction.”

“You’re so annoying,” she breathed. “End it at ‘thank you.’”

“Why do you put up with me?” Link laughed, handing her the rag.

She wrapped it around her finger, letting the wound clot. “Because.”

“Because--?”

“Because. Because I just do.”

“That makes no sense.”

“Fine. Because I think you’re amusing. Whether that’s a good thing or not is dependent on the situation.”

Link grinned softly, barely noticeable in anything but his eyes.

Zelda watched him, content in their mutual silence.

But even that had to end.

After her cut had stopped bleeding, Zelda pointed to the empty space in the room. “Okay. Get on the ground.”

“Demands, demands, Princess.”

#wip wednesday #legend of zelda #botw au #pre-calamity au #link #zelda #zelink #writing #I have an innuendo issue in this fic which includes the title. Oops

[postmodernbeing]

Shingeki no Kyojin headcanons: 104th training corps (College AU)

Hello, Postmodernbeing here. This time I wanted to write about things that I actually know, since I’m a college student and I’m studing History and Social Sciences I found myself wondering about what would the 104th training corps focus their studies on if all of them had chosen humanities as their career. I hope you find this funny and at least a bit accurate.

IMPORTANT:  I do not own Shingeki no Kyojin, only these HCs are my own. // Might contain a few spoilers from the manga. // English is not my first language and I study uni at Latin America, so scientifical terms/words/concepts may vary. Anyhow, I thank you for reading and for your patience.

Eren Jaeger

He’s passionate about Military History, not to be confused with history of army. Eren’s rather focused in strategies, weapons and semiotics involved in military speech.

First started with books about great wars in modern era. The use of certain weapons took him by surprise due the technological development.

Then he took classes about discourse analysis, semiotics and such, and felt inspired by the discourse reflected in emblems, uniforms, flags, etc.

Eren doesn’t really have a preference between occidental or oriental, North or South, Modern or Ancient settings. He would simply devour all the books that deal with military strategy and warlike conflicts. Although he has more experience and information about great wars in modern era.

He’s fascinated with the inexhaustible human desire of freedom and the extent that it can reach. This fascination might not be very healthy, he concludes.

Also, finds a cruel beauty in violence when showed in freedom and ideals are protected over one’s own life. But he won’t tell his classmates or professors. He knows is a controversial opinion for he’s still aware the implications of massive conflicts and the abuse of power.

One thing led to another, Eren is now taking classes and reading about philosophy in war and anthropological perspectives about violence through time.

He’s so into social movements besides his main interest in college: “No one’s really free until all humanity is”, that’s his life motto pretty much.

Due his readings and researches he decided it was important to develop a political stance about the world’s problems. Eren strongly believes all lives worth the same, but systems and nations had imposed over others and vulnerated other human's lives.

Yes, Eren is anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist.

Mikasa Ackerman

Asian Studies Major / History Minor.

She thinks by studying these degrees, she pays honor to her heritage. Specially to her mother. Her family is the proudest for Mikasa is also the best student in her whole generation.

Mikasa received a scholarship thanks to Azumabito family, who are co-founders of an academic institution dedicated to Asian historical and cultural research. She might as well start working when she graduates.

Although she’s passionate about Japan’s history, she has written a few articles and essays about Asian Studies themselves and the importance of preserving but also divulging by means of art and sciences.

In her essays and research work, she likes to employ tools from many disciplines since she strongly believes all humanities and social sciences serve the very same purpose at scrutinize the social reality all the same. Might as well use demographics, ethnology, sociology, philosophy, anthropology, archeology, and so on. For it proves to bring light into questions that history by itself could answer unsatisfactorily (in Mikasa’s opinion).

Even her professors wonder how she manages to organize that much information and pull it off successfully. She might as well be more brilliant than a few PhD’s students.

Armin Arlert

Prehistoric studies / Archeology

He’s so into the studies about the prehistoric humans and routes of migration.

Passionate about the ocean and natural wonders since kid, Armin believed his career would be environmentalist or geoscience related.

That was the agreement he had with his grandad since middleschool, until he read Paul Rivet’s “The Origins of the American Man” book and captured him thoroughly. The way the book explained logically the diverse theories about global migration and enlisted the challenges of modern archeology -for there are numerous mysteries- simply devoured his conscience.

He knew from the books he’d read that most evidence of the first settlements are deep under dirt or far away in the ocean whose level has risen over the centuries leaving primitive camps – and answers – unreachable. 

That’s the reason he is so eager to study and give his best to contribute both archeology and history disciplines. Also, he’ll forever love the ocean and nature, just leave him do all the fieldwork, please.

Jean Kirstein

History of industry / Industrial heritage / Historical materialism

Jean first started interested in capitalist industries and production development in first world countries. Kind of rejected other visions and explanations since he’d read about positivism studies.

His interest in such matters started when he was a just boy. He often found himself wondering how things were made and that question captured him ever since. As he grew up, he realized that machines and industrial processes were highly involved in the most mundane objects creation.

Nonetheless, he learnt that not always the best machinery was used, nor the best work conditions were available for mass production. From that moment he’d started to read about the First Industrial Revolution and his mind just took off with questions. Invariably, he learned about labour struggle and the transforming power due workforce.

Between his readings and university classes, he’d knew more about labour movements, unions. And in the theoretical aspect, he'd learned about historical materialism analysis.

One could say that Jean possesses a humanistic vision of the implications in mass production under capitalist system along history and nowadays.

Marco Bodt

Royalty's history / Medieval Studies 

I wanted to keep his canonical fascination to royalty and the best way to do that was including Medieval Studies.

Marco would study since the fall of Roman Empire until the latest gossip of royal families all across Europe.

Might get a bit of Eurocentric with his essays but in real life discussions he’s always open to debates about decolonization. He has even read Frantz Fanon books and possesses a critical thinking about colonial countries and their relations with the so named third world.

Nevertheless, Marco finds a strange beauty in the lives of monarchs and he’s interested in study from their education, hobbies, strategies, relationships, everything.

I’d say that his favorite historical period is probably the establishment of the descendants of the barbarian peoples in the new kingdoms such as the Visigoths, Ostrogoths, Franks, Vandals, Huns, Saxons, Angles and Jutes (holy shit, they're a lot).

Because this would transcend as the beginning of his favorite matter of analysis.

Sasha Braus

History of gastronomy, development of cooking, antropology and archeological studies.

Sasha’s interested in the history that shows human development of food and cooking. She finds wonders when she inquires into cultural aspects from the first farming till modern artistic expressions that would involve food.

Such as gastronomy. But her attention got caught in literature’s food representation too, with its symbols and allegories, also in paintings that belong in still life movement, but also Sasha finds interest when food is used as rhetorical devices (for example: the apple in Adam and Eve’s myth).

She’s curious about primitive systems of irrigation, cultivation, food distribution, adaptation of wild species; as well as the domestication of animals, the diversification of the diet and its link with sedentary life, as well as the subsequent division of labor once the need for food was assured in humanity’ first cities.

Sasha’s convinced that alimentation is the pilar of civilization as we know it. For it involves cultural, artistic, economic, emotion and social aspects. Food is a microcosm of analysis of humanity.

Sasha hasn’t a favorite historical period or setting. But she definitely has a special fascination for first civilizations and their link with alimentation. Also, she likes to study the development gastronomy in occident world around different regions, social classes, and time.

Although, let’s be honest, Sasha would devour (lol, couldn’t help it) ANY book about agriculture, cattle raising, cooking or gastronomy. 

Connie Springer

Micro-history / History of everyday life.

Connie loves his hometown, has a deep respect to his family and traditions. That’s why he finds himself wondering about the most ordinary events that developed in his dear Ragako. 

The book “The Cheese and the Worms” by Carlo Ginzburg changed the way he used to understand history and capture him into meaningful discussions about what he learned was called micro-history.

His favorite quote from that book is: “As with language, culture offers to the individual a horizon of latent possibilities—a flexible and invisible cage in which he can exercise his own conditional liberty.”

Once deep into studying the Italian historians and their works, he decided to give it a try, and ever since he’s mesmerized with the mundane vestiges craftsmen that worked in his village left behind.

Connie’s parents are so proud of him and his achivements, but mostly because he became a passionate academic over human and simple matters, (so down to earth our big baby).

His attitude towards his essays and research works truly shows his great heart and humility. Connie is aware that academic works have no use if they are not meant to teach us about ourselves too and current times.

Empathy and hard work, that’s how one could describe the elements that integrate his recently started academic career.

Historia Reiss

Political History / Statistician

Her father’s family pressured Historia since she was a little girl into studying History just like his dad. For he’s a very famous historian that had made important researches and books about the greatest statesmen of Paradis.

She thought in numerous ways that she could sabotage her career or study any other career without her family’s consent and end with her linage of historians. But she ended up enrolling in tuition and so far, she is trying her best in her studies. Historia swears this is the right path for her.

But don’t let the appearances fool you, even thought she studies her father’s career and the very same branch of history’s discipline, she has her own critical sense and she’s so talented on her own, very meticulous with her research papers.

Definitely wants a PhD about women, power and politics. We stand a Gender Studies Queen.

Her complementary disciplines are Political Sciences. Historia also has a talent for philosophy and owns a diary with all her thoughts about them. She hopes one day she would write a book or a manifesto about an innovative methodology for research and teaching History of Politic Thinking.

Ymir 

Religion’s History / Theology

Just like Historia, Ymir was pressured into studying History. And if she’s totally honest, she still has some doubts about it. Even if she couldn’t imagine herself studying anything else.

Anyways, Ymir thought that she could build her career around topics that she enjoys. So, she finally chose theology for unusual reasons.

Her classmates had grown up in religious families or had experience studying the doctrines they practiced. But she, being an agnostic, found satisfaction in unraveling belief systems in different cultures and time periods.

Albeit she studies in Paradis’ University, she currently has the opportunity of taking an academic exchange at Marley’s University. This only made Ymir more conflicted about her future, for she wants to stay (near Historia) but she’s aware that Marley would offer her more academic opportunities for her specialization.

Nowadays she’s working in some collaborative research paper with some people from Mythological Studies from the Literature department. She’s nailing it, writing some historical studies about titans in Greek mythology and its impact in shaping neoclassical poetry. Her brains ugh, love her.

Reiner Braun

Official History / Biographies of heroes and great wars.

His mother convinced him with numerous books about great national heroes, but mostly because she knew that would mean sure job to her son. All political administration in every level requires of an official chronicler. 

When he started his college courses, Reiner felt motivated and he was actually convinced that he had the vocation. But the more he read the less sure he felt that the academic world was for him. He wondered if he made the right choice. If he did it for him or for his mother.

Stories and myths about heroes have always cheered him up. That gave him purpose and consoled him when feeling down. Or at least it was like that when younger. Reiner truly didn’t feel like himself when regretting his choices, but he couldn’t help it for he was changing in more than a way.

That’s why he decided to experiment with other disciplines and with time he would find joy in historical novels. He would analyze them just as good as a litterateur and research about historical context in the written story AND study the artwork’s context itself.

His favorites theorical books are: “Historical Text as Literary Artifact” by Hayden White and Michel de Certeau’ “The Writing of History”.·        

Heroes stories would always accompany him, just differently now.

Bertolt Hoover

History of mentalities / Les Annales

Intimate relationships, basic habits and attitudes. / Culture

Bertie has always been a much reticent and shy guy. As he grew up, he consolidated his sullen personality, but maintained a friendly attitude towards anyone who needed him. That’s why he thought that the priority in his studies was to be at the service of his classmates.

So, although he was passionate about research and was a fan of the French Les Annales current, he considered his mission to be in the Archive. As a cataloger, organizer and curator of ancient documents.

But the ways of History are always mysterious, and Doctor Magath showed him that other way of being was possible. Before Bertolt picked his specialty, he met Theo Magath, a professor who recently had finished writing a book: “The Idea of Death in Liberio’s Ghetto in Marley During its War Against Eldia (Paradis)” (long-ass titles are historians specialty btw). After Magath ended his book’ presentation, Bertolt reached him. They talked for hours and finally, he felt inspired into pursuing his true passion. Magath gifted him “The Historian’s Craft” by Marc Bloch as a way to reminding him his way.

By the time Bertolt took History of Mentalities as optional class, he already had some basic notions about Les Annales, Lucien Febvre, Marc Bloch, Fernand Braudel, Jacques Le Goff and such. 

Being the gentle giant he is, Bertolt finds joy in reading about different lifestyles in diverse cultures. He constantly wonders about the origin of social constructs and the way they shape thinking as much as identity.

This boy is a wonder, he might not be the best in oral presentations or  extracurricular activities but sure as hell he’ll graduate with honors.

Annie Leonhart

Oral history, about institutions. Particularly, police and justice system in early XXs.

Albeit she got into the same University than Bertolt and Reiner, even shared classes and hopes, Annie regularly felt disconnected from her studies. With time she realized it wasn't due her career itself but rather because of the currents that her professors had suggested her taking. Until now.

Talking with Hitch and Marlow about their doubts concerning subjects and departments it came up the topics of history and present time but also oral history. She’d never heard something like that before. So, that very same week, Annie started searching for information about that.

She ended up with more questions: is it all of this just academic journalism? Or maybe sociology? When we can talk about regular history and when it starts being present time? If she introduces interviews due oral history, then that makes it an interdisciplinary work? Which are the best systems for analyzing data? Definitely, she’ll need help from anthropology and sociology departments if she wants to keep going. 

Contrary to her initial prognostic, philosophy and history of historic writing became her new allies, and the text “Le temps présent et l'historiographie contemporaine” (Present Time and Contemporary Historiography) by Bédarida among others, provided Annie another perspective. 

Regarding her favorite topics, she wouldn’t say that she selected them freely. They were just practical preferences. For institutions own extensive archives and numerous functionaries. One way or another, she ended up tangled in judicial system and police issues.

With new tools and object for studying, one could find Annie having a blast as detective too. Even if her academic essays focus on institutions’ history and configuration, she’s also working in corruption and more. She doesn’t do it because she believes it’s the right thing, but besides, the thrill of the tea is spicy. Although she won’t admit it. 

#shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #aot headcanons #snk headcanons #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #jean kirstein #marco bodt #sasha braus #connie springer #historia reiss #ymir #reiner braun #bertolt hoover #annie leonhart #modern au #college au