Tumgik
#re-mediation
santacoppelia · 6 months
Text
I've been listening to Good Omens season 1 to celebrate Wahoo Day... But, for the first time, I'm listening to it dubbed to my language.
I'm discovering A LOT of things about my pet peeves and obsessions:
In LatAm Spanish, most of the male voices sound like generic 40something men, with not many differences. Sorry. The worst offender: Shadwell, who sounds exactly like any other male actor, with no accent, no mannerisms, no nothing. When you have to turn around to watch who's speaking, you've already lost me.
Most of the "different" voices are not worth the difference... Hastur sounds like a complete ham ("evil old man, cackle, cackle"), Death does not have a regal, deep voice...
Voice actors for Aziraphale and Beelzebub are really distinctive, you can hear the way their faces are moving expressively. I loved them. Hope they keep being the same for season 2.
Crowley is, somehow, fruitier (a little more soft, tender, even sad) but less expressive (no hissing, not a lot of changes in tone...) I'm expecting the same effect that David Tennant's face has in his voice, and it doesn't happen. (Season 2 has just started, and Starmaker is already a lot better. You can hear the faces in his voice!)
The translation is... Oh, Someone. Two examples from e0106: Aziraphale becomes, in Crowley's words, "un bastardo maldito que vale la pena conocer" -> "a damned bastard worth knowing" (instead of "enough of a bastard..."). The phrase about "there never was an apple that wasn't worth the trouble" was absolutely butchered. I get it, sometimes you have to change the words to fit the mouth movements... But losing sense and intentions hurts (and the "apple thing" is in a voice-over bit, so...)
We lost at least one duck reference thanks to the translation. Suspicion slides in water just like fish, instead of water sliding from ducks.
I finally understood that I usually write fanfics in English because I HAVE NO USEFUL REFERENCES FOR HOW THE CHARACTERS SOUND IN MY LANGUAGE!!! I lose their rhythms, their peculiarities, their quirks and their particular words! ("tickety-boo" goes untranslated, instead of risking going for a funny archaism, for example) (S2 has already started better, with a couple of funny things in Maggie's dialogue: "Holy Shit!" and "stripper-deliveroo-gram" were translated in a context appropriated way) . This might be in order to make it "LatAm Spanish" and avoiding regionalisms, but it also misses a lot of what brings me pleasure when watching series, movies, etc.
It has been fun, tho. And I'm a snob, so it seems. I'll finish watching s02 dubbed, just for the sake of it!
4 notes · View notes
katabay · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media
ANDREY STAMATIN
Keep a close eye on Peter. You'd become desperate and turn into a villain without him.
I spend a lot of time thinking about daniil and peter, but something just clicked into place for me with andrey. so!
I am. currently untangling this thread of thoughts about the stamatin twins and daniil and this kind of. triangle that's happening. a three fold bullet for sure, the kind of recognition-awareness-understanding where three people become one, but to step back from that. when daniil and andrey talk, there's a specific shape of peter that stands in his conversational absence. so: triangle formation. it's opposite-adjacent-complementary to daniil and peter's conversations. it all goes back to that first conversation you have with andrey. it's giving knife. love it!
bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost
189 notes · View notes
beans-and-shet · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
Now they can be best friends
303 notes · View notes
rotationalsymmetry · 8 months
Text
without reblogging: I have news about leftists.
None of the things we want are "realistic". People who cling to "realistic" possibilities do not identify as leftists.
5 notes · View notes
ruinakete · 4 months
Note
hc + vengeance
WORD HEADCANONS & DRABBLE ・ accepting! ( word count challenge beneath the readmore; 500 goal; 507 reached! content warnings; mentions / implications of engage spoilers; mass murder; attempted suicide(s); suicidal thoughts; self-harm! )
to wrong zephia takes a grand amount of strength; a feat, really. this is not because she makes herself impeachable, as there's no doubt that the cracks in her image are visible. however, it's because most that attempt to wrong her are disposed of the moment she realizes their intent. instead, i think the main aggressor in her mind━━━the main person she once wanted vengeance against-was herself. not many wrongs have been dealt against her, and the one with the greatest impact was the one she committed by herself.
vengeance is not a sweet thing, to zephia. when her magic swelled from her dragonstone and tore down the walls of her home, setting both friend and kin aflame, her first reaction had been to condemn herself to a fate alike theirs. to destroy her dragonstone would be to kill the part of her that only brought grief. to destroy herself would be to kill the part of her that brought disappointment. thus, for centuries, she tried to take her life, failing each time, over and over again until sombron directed her rage towards the wrongful acts of mankind and those divine.
currently, zephia is not sure whether or not she seeks retribution from alear for burying her under her lava and stone. because, yes, though the divine dragon had killed her, had she not been the one to push the stone of fate rolling? should she not be the one punished for condemning griss to a death that belonged only to her?
for now, as she ponders what became of her past life and this second chance at breathing wholly, she will punish alear for ever thinking she could rid herself of a hound. for now, as she comes to the realization that her longed-for family does not need to come from her womb, she will punish griss for his reverence in her as a goddess and household head.
WAILING SHOOK THE WITHERED TREES OF THEIR SNOW, echoing through the mountains that once belonged to the heart of this dragon, heard above the crackling of flames and snapping of wood as it came to rest. and this mage dragon━━━poor, poor girl. useless, useless daughter━━━clawed at her skin as she trembled and shook violently, heaving in the smoke of her parents and tearing the evidence of failure from her body. o' divine one, she pleaded, she bemoaned, wake me from this night terror. pull me from the duvet of mama's bed and let her live to scold my laziness. remind me that i am not a ruination. but the last night terror she had was as a babe━━━centuries ago, cradled in her mother's arms. "divine..." she gasped, hiccupping and choking on each breath she took in, pitiful as she looked to her parents' guardians to forsake her, "divine... oh god... i didn't mean to! i... i didn't mean to kill them! i... oh divine, my.... i'm useless━━━i'm sorry, i'm so sorry!" another tremor shook her body, knocking her to her knees in the snow and ash, staining her carmine-dirty robes that her mother would not be able to wash. the thought of it━━━sangria eyes led astray to the limp hand some meters away━━━sent her into another fit of panic. the crux of her wails nearly silenced by the thrum of her heart, the glowing steadiness of... no. mage dragon rose her head, her gaze blurry with tears and face smudged with soot. the grief in the air was palpable, cut only by a frigid wind or two, and interrupted, constantly, by the thrum of a heart. it had been easy to find; stuck in the snow, tucked away as though it had no hand in what became of her. no. when she had lunged for the dragonstone, her body had not been ready for the abrupt action. she met snow, first, splayed across carmine and gray, but she scrambled despite the ache between her eyes━━━above her head, the weight of her horns was unbalanced, as though one had broken off a piece of itself just as she had. the moment her claws closed around the stone, she raised it in the air and brought it back down. the rocks beneath it shook, but the stone remained aglow. so, she slammed it down again and again and again and again until her hand met the rocks instead of the dragonstone that fell to her lap. skin split apart and bled, but it would not match the amount of her tribe's. thus, her adrenaline softened into fatigue, slowing her momentum and swaying her as she kneeled. it had not taken long for the mage dragon to slump over, shoulders trembling still as her arms curled to hug her stomach. useless, she was. stupid, foolish girl. utterly immovable despite the sorrow that racked through her body, curled over the dragonstone in her lap; the last of its kind, a reminder of what she could not be and would never become.
1 note · View note
oz4texchsq · 1 year
Text
Comi a Casada Novinha Na Casa Dela Red ass aunty shake My wife fucking a BBC taking care of a latina mommy Anal beads gay sex An Appreciative Boy Gets A Lift Ebony Lap Dance Turns Ass Grinding, Cock Sucking, Interracial Sex, Cumshot on Sweet Ass Amateur thong blowjob first time He held her so tight when he came Amateur British jock sucks cock before fucking twink ass Aria Haze Fucks Stepbrother To Keep Her BJ Skills a secret BBW slut throat fucked to puke
0 notes
communistkenobi · 9 months
Text
Serano’s description of gender dysphoria is also really productive - she calls it a psychiatric invention that collapses the internal dissonance we face as we experience life as the wrong gender with the trauma trans people have as a result of managing the cissexual public’s anxieties about their own gendered positions in society. the mere presence of a trans person is a threat to the cissexual, because it presents them with a world in which their gender is not taken-for-granted, not natural, and where they may even experience sexual attraction to us, thus threatening their sexual identity, too. and because this cissexual anxiety is almost invariably expressed through violence and social exclusion, trans people must at all times be not only ambassadors for all trans people but ambassadors for cis people, too, comforting their fragile sense of self and making sure they feel okay being around us freaks. this constant effort to perform cis-hood is then re-inscribed onto us as a pathology, labelling the exhaustion we feel a mental illness and enclosing this social mediation process inside our heads
1K notes · View notes
kazutora-kurokawa · 3 months
Text
Poly Relationship w/ Baji, Chifuyu, and Kazutora
♡ SFW, pure fluff, fem reader, set in a timeline where Baji, Tora, and Fuyu own a petshop ♡
note: This was requested by @mirai-006, hope you enjoy 🩷 btw I separated the headcanons into sections because I kept having different ideas lol
❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀
General HCs
💞 When you started working at the petshop, you weren't expecting to end up in a relationship with the owner, let alone all three of them
💞 Everyday is different with these idiots, I swear they share a singular brain cell
💞 They all have different love languages, so you end up with a lot of presents, food, and cuddles
💞 Expect stray cats to be brought home every week
💞 You and Kazutora feel like babysitters a lot of the time because Baji is wild and Chifuyu goes along with everything he says
💞 Kazutora is the clingiest and also the quietest
💞 Baji is for sure the loudest, he'll yell at the top of the lungs even when you're in the same room
💞 Chifuyu is the mediator, he likes to keep things peaceful but usually ends up arguing with Baji about something stupid
💞 You and Chifuyu take turns doing Kazutora and Baji's hair (wash day takes forever, not to mention having to re-dye Kazutora's hair)
💞 Baji says the dumbest shit ever and you all just look at him like huh? (Chifuyu tries to rationalize what he's saying but it never works 😭)
Motorcycle Rides
💞 You're the biggest passenger princess in the whole world
💞 They'll argue over who gets to drive you around and end up settling the disagreement by playing rock paper scissors (Baji always wins lol)
Movie Nights
💞 You take turns deciding what to watch
💞 If you end up watching a horror movie Fuyu and Tora will scream and accidentally toss popcorn on you and Baji
💞 Chifuyu loves romance movies, but Baji doesn't because they make him cry, especially if it's unrequited love
Cuddling
💞 Kazutora loves being little spoon, bonus points if you run your fingers through his hair
💞 Chifuyu is fine with being big or little spoon, he likes laying on your chest and listening to your heartbeat
💞 Baji is so hyperactive, he probably can't even hold still long enough to cuddle lol
❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀
Taglist
@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkitkats @happy-trenchcoated-impala @rinsprttyg @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies
314 notes · View notes
zvaigzdelasas · 3 months
Text
With a history of short-term governments in Nepal’s 15 years of democratic progression, the current reconfiguration is no surprise, and it will be no surprise if the Maoists get back again with the Nepali Congress in months and years to come.
Power sharing, political discontent, ideological differences, underperformance, and pressure to restore Nepal to a Hindu state – a long list of reasons reportedly forced the Maoists to sever ties with the Nepali Congress. While the Nepali Congress expected the Maoist leader and current prime minister, Pushpa Kamal Dahal (also known by his nom de guerre, Prachanda) to leave the alliance, it did not expect an overnight turnaround. [...]
Dahal reportedly conveyed to the Nepali Congress chair, former Prime Minister Sher Bahadur Deuba, that external pressure forced him to join hands with CPN-UML and form a new government.
If this assertion is true, China emerges as a plausible factor, given its historical inclination toward forging alliances with leftist parties in Nepal. This notion gains credence in light of China’s past efforts, such as its unsuccessful attempt in 2020 to mediate the conflict between Oli and Dahal.
On the other hand, India has enjoyed a comfortable working relationship with the Nepali Congress and the Maoists. Although Maoists were a challenging party for New Delhi to get along with when Dahal first gained the prime minister’s seat in 2008, the two have come a long way in working together. However, the CPN-UML has advocated closer ties with the northern neighbor China; Beijing suits both their ideological requirements and their ultra-nationalistic outlook – which is primarily anti-India. [...]
India faces challenges in aligning with the Left Alliance for two key reasons. First, the energy trade between Nepal and India has grown crucial over the past couple of years. However, India strictly purchases power generated through its own investments in Nepal, refusing any power produced with Chinese involvement. With the CPN-UML now in government, Nepal may seek alterations in this arrangement despite the benefits of power trade in reducing its trade deficit with India.
Second, India stands to lose the smooth cooperation it enjoyed with the recently dissolved Maoist-Congress coalition. During the dissolved government, the Nepali Congress held the Foreign Ministry, fostering a favorable equation for India. Just last month, Foreign Minister N.P. Saud visited India for the 9th Raisina Dialogue, engaging with top Indian officials, including his counterpart, S. Jaishankar.
As concerns arise for India regarding the Left Alliance, there is also potential for shifts in the partnership between Nepal and the United States, a significant development ally. Particularly, there may be a slowdown in the implementation of the Millennium Challenge Corporation (MCC) projects. Despite facing domestic and Chinese opposition, the Nepali Parliament finally approved a $500 million MCC grant from the United States in 2022, following a five-year delay.
China perceives the MCC as a component of the U.S.-led Indo-Pacific strategy, countering its BRI. Hence Beijing aims to increase Chinese loans and subsidies to Nepal to enhance its influence.
To conclude, the re-emergence of Nepal’s Left Alliance signals a shift in power dynamics, impacting domestic politics and regional geopolitics. With China’s influence growing, Nepal’s foreign policy may tilt further toward Beijing, challenging India’s interests. This shift poses challenges for India, particularly in trade and diplomatic relations, while also affecting Nepal’s partnerships with other key players like the United States.
[[The Author,] Dr. Rishi Gupta is the assistant director of the Asia Society Policy Institute, Delhi]
6 Mar 24
228 notes · View notes
Text
Meatspace twiddling
Tumblr media
I'm on tour with my new, nationally bestselling novel The Bezzle! Catch me next weekend (Mar 30/31) in ANAHEIM at WONDERCON, then in Boston with Randall "XKCD" Munroe (Apr 11), then Providence (Apr 12), and beyond!
Tumblr media
"Enshittification" isn't just a way of describing the symptoms of platform decay: it's also a theory of the mechanism of decay – the means by which platforms get shittier and shittier until they are a giant pile of shit.
I call that mechanism "twiddling": this is the ability of digital services to alter their business-logic – the prices they charge, the payouts they offer, the particulars of the deal – from instant to instant, for each user, continuously:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/19/twiddler/
Contrary to Big Tech's own boasting about its operations, the tricks that tech firms play to siphon value away from business customers and end-users aren't very sophisticated. They're crude gimmicks, like offering a higher per-hour wage to Uber drivers whom the algorithm judges to be picky about which rides they'll clock in for, and then lowering the wage by small increments as a way of lulling the driver into gradually accepting a permanent lower rate:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men
This is a simple trick. The difference is that tech platforms like Uber can play it over and over, and very quickly. There's plenty of wage-stealing scumbag bosses who'd have loved to have shaved pennies off their workers' paychecks, then added a few cents back in if a worker cried foul, then started shaving the pennies again. The thing that stopped those bosses was the bottleneck of payroll clerks, who couldn't make the changes fast enough.
Uber plays crude tricks – like claiming that a driver isn't an employee because the control is mediated through an app – and then piles more crude tricks on top – this algorithmic wage discrimination gambit.
Have you ever watched a shell-game performed very slowly?
https://www.masterclass.com/articles/how-to-do-penn-tellers-famous-cups-and-balls-trick-in-12-steps
It's a series of very simple gimmicks, performed very quickly and smoothly. Computers are very quick and very smooth. The quickness of the hand deceives the eye: do crude tricks with superhuman speed and they'll seem sophisticated.
The one bright spot in the Great Enshittening that we're living through is that many firms are not sufficiently digitized to to these crude tricks very quickly. Take grocery stores: they can get up to a lot of the same tricks as Amazon – for example, they can charge suppliers for placement on the most prominent, easiest-to-reach shelves, reorganizing your shopping based on which companies pay the biggest bribes, rather than offering the best products and prices.
But Amazon takes this to a whole different level – beyond simply organizing their product pages based on payola, they do this for search. You ask Amazon, "What's your cheapest batteries?" and it lies to you. If you click the first link in a search-results page, you'll pay 29% more than you would if you got the best product – a product that is, on average, 17 places down on the results page. Amazon makes $38b/year taking bribes to lie to you:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/11/06/attention-rents/#consumer-welfare-queens
Amazon can do more than that. Thanks to its digital nature, it can continuously reprice its offerings – indeed, it can simply make up each price displayed on every product at the instant you look at it – based on its surveillance data about you, estimating your willingness to pay. For sellers, Amazon can continuously re-weight the likelihood that a given product will be shown to a customer based on the seller's willingness to discount their products, even to the point where they go out of business:
https://www.businessinsider.com/sadistic-amazon-treated-book-sellers-the-way-a-cheetah-would-pursue-a-sickly-gazelle-2013-10
Twiddling, in other words, lets digital services honeycomb their servers with sneaky wormholes that let them siphon value away from one kind of platform user and give it to another (as when Apple silently began spying on Iphone owners to create profiles for advertisers), or to themselves.
But hard-goods businesses struggle to do this kind of twiddling. Not for lack of desire – but for lack of capacity. Jeff Bezos, owner of Amazon Fresh – an online grocery store – can change prices and layout millions of times per day, at effectively zero cost. Jeff Bezos, owner of Whole Foods – a brick-and-mortar grocer – needs a army of teenagers on rollerskates with pricing guns to achieve a fraction of this agility.
So hard-goods businesses are somewhat enshittification-resistant. It's not that their owners are more interested in the welfare of their customers, workers and suppliers – they merely lack the capacity to continuously rejigger the way their business runs.
Well, about that.
Grocers have been experimenting with "electronic shelf labels" in order to do "dynamic pricing" – that means that prices change quickly, in response to circumstances:
https://www.npr.org/2024/03/06/1197958433/dynamic-pricing-grocery-supermarkets
This doesn't have to be bad! As @planetmoney points out, it's a little weird that grocers don't discount milk whose sell-by date is drawing near. That milk is worth less to shoppers, because they have to use it more quickly lest it expire. Instead of marking down the price of perishable goods – day-old lettuce, yesterday's bread, etc – grocers put them on the shelves next to fresher, more valuable products, leading to billions of dollars' worth of food-waste and and unimaginable quantities of methane-producing, planet-cooking landfill.
In Norway, ESLs are pretty well established and – at least according to Planet Money's reporting – they are used exclusively to offer discounts in order to reduce waste. They make everyone better off.
But towards the end of the story, they note that Norway's grocery sector – which alters prices up to 2,000 times per day – has been accused of using ESLs to rig prices, hiking them and blaming them on pandemic supply-chain problems and loose monetary policy. Greedflation, in other words.
Greedflation is rampant in the grocery sector, all around the world. Remember when the price of eggs doubled and they blamed in on bird-flu, even as the CEO of the one company that owns every egg brand you've ever heard of boasted about how he could hike prices and suckers would just pay it?
https://pluralistic.net/2023/01/23/cant-make-an-omelet/#keep-calm-and-crack-on
In Canada, grocers rigged the price of bread, the most Les-Mis-ass form of corporate crime you can imagine (do you want guillotines, Galen Weston? Because this is how you get guillotines):
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bread_price-fixing_in_Canada
EU grocers – another highly concentrated industry – also collude to rig prices:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/17/how-to-think-about-scraping/
Which is all to say that while these companies don't have to use the twiddling capabilities that come with ESLs to enshittify their stores, we'd be pretty fucking naive to assume that they won't.
And here's the bad news: US grocers like Whole Foods (owned by Amazon, the company that wrote the enshittification playbook) are already experimenting with ESLs. So is Alberstons/Safeway, the massive, inbred conglomerate that has already demonstrated its passion for using twiddling to fuck over their workers:
https://knock-la.com/vons-fires-delivery-drivers-prop-22-e899ee24ffd0/
Economists love "price discrimination" – where prices change based on circumstance, trying to match the perfect price with the perfect customer. On paper, that sounds plausible: if I need a quart of milk for a recipe I'm making tonight and I get a 50% discount on some about-to-expire 2%, then everyone's better off. I get a discount and the grocer gets some money for milk they'd have to throw away at the end of the day.
But these elegant, self-licking ice-cream cones only emerge if the corporation offering the deal is constrained. Perhaps they're constrained by competition – the fear that you'll go elsewhere. Or perhaps they're constrained by regulation – the fear that they'll be punished if they use twiddling-tech to cheat you.
The grocery sector, dominated by a cartel of massive companies that routinely collude to rip us off, is not constrained by competition. And for years, regulators let them get away with ripping us off (though finally that might be changing):
https://www.nytimes.com/2024/03/21/us/politics/grocery-prices-pandemic-ftc.html?unlocked_article_code=1.ek0.t2Pr.g4n2usbxEcoa
For neoclassical economists, the answer to all this is "caveat emptor" – let the buyer beware. If you want to make sure that ESLs are only used to offer you discounts and not to gouge prices, all you need to do is note the price of everything you buy, every time you buy it, and triple-check it every time you go back to the grocery store. Just be eternally vigilant!
Thing is, the one thing computers are much better at than humans is vigilance. With ESLs and other twiddling mechanisms, you're a fish on a hook, and the seller is tireless in giving you a little more slack, then a little less, until you finally drop your guard.
Economists desperately want these elegant models to work, but "efficient market hypothesis" is a brain-worm that always turns into apologetics for fraud. Dynamic markets sound like a good idea, but they are catnip for cheaters. "Just be eternally vigilant" is miserable advice, and no way to live your life:
https://pluralistic.net/2023/02/24/passive-income/#swiss-cheese-security
In his brilliant novel Spook Country, @GreatDismal describes augmented reality as "cyberspace everting" – that is, turning inside-out:
https://memex.craphound.com/2007/07/31/william-gibsons-spook-country/
The extrusion of twiddling technology from digital platforms into the physical world isn't cyberspace everting so much as it is cyberspace prolapsing.
Tumblr media
If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:
https://pluralistic.net/2024/03/26/glitchbread/#electronic-shelf-tags
244 notes · View notes
Unpredictable, Part 6-Limoreau x black!fem!reader fic
A/N: Sorry it's a little late but it took me forever to get the pace right and I didn't re-watch the episode so it's all from memory. Thanks for all the love!
Warnings: Hints to sensuality, swearing, body image issues, self-esteem issues, allusions to homophobia.
Words: 7.8k
Taglist: @badbishsblog , @kasslucilfer, @gardenof-venus, @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog
Series Masterlist
Tumblr media
The only sounds that filled the room were the rustling of clothes as we all got dressed in our respective areas. While I was slipping on my gold hoops, I could not shake the feeling that something was off, kind of like in a horror movie where the main family is weird, but they haven’t done anything to justify suspicion. Every time I tried to remember something, it made my temples throb.
My stomach churned at the fact that I couldn’t remember anything, and my thoughts were all jumbled up. Did Marie or Jordan remember anything? The thought of asking them made me gulp and I fingered the dark-wash jeans in my lap.
They’ll think I can’t handle my liquor or that I always black out, I mused bitterly.
“I think this is yours.” Jordan’s voice nearly made me jump but I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized she was talking to Marie.
Marie glanced over at her and muttered her thanks once Jordan tossed her a bra. I faced the front again, unfolded my jeans, and gasped.
“What is it?” Marie asked.
I gulped. “Um, it’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”
“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Jordan commented.
How did she sound so casual?
No, I couldn’t say it, it was way too embarrassing. These jeans were no ordinary dark wash mid-rise pair; they fit my hips like a glove, made my legs ten percent longer, and my butt twenty percent perkier. When I found them on a shopping trip with Coco, we dubbed them the Look At Me jeans and they never failed to garner attention. So, I could only wear them when I really wanted to feel good about myself and I wondered what possessed me to wear them last night.  
“Seriously, it’s fine,” I tried to assure them as I started pulling the fitted denim over my legs.
The process was going well until I reached my upper thighs and they refused to go higher. I huffed, flopping back onto the bed, sucking my stomach as far as possible, and tugging on the belt loops.
After some strategic shimmying, they finally slid up just below my belly button and I zipped them up triumphantly. Every time I wore them, I forgot how hard it was to get in and out of them.
How had I gotten out of them last night?
The thought made my face burn, and I snatched my royal purple halter top from the floor. As I slipped it over my head, I could not stop my thoughts from wandering as to how we even ended up here. For one thing, Marie and Jordan couldn’t stand each other and I was always trying to play the mediator between them. Again, how did that turn into…this? When did they stop hating each other?
This whole situation felt the same as when I was trying to think of a word, and it was on the tip of my tongue. But no matter how much I thought, the word never came to me. I had a feeling they somehow made up and the thought of them making up made me hopeful and something else I couldn’t put my finger on. Even if they did makeup, why was I involved?
I tugged the top down and the buttery soft material stopped at the middle of my ribs. Then, I swept my braids to one shoulder and grabbed the thick straps to tie it. Despite the numerous times I wore this top, my fingers kept fumbling with the material. I huffed as I willed my fingers to cooperate and hoped that no one noticed my struggling.
After a few seconds of trying, a soft, warm pair of fingers brushed up against mine.
“Here, let me help you,” Marie offered.
All I could do was nod and my hands fell into my lap. Every time Marie’s hands grazed the back of my neck, tingles ran up and down my spine.
Stop it, Y/N, my mind hissed at me.
Hopefully, she thought I was shivering.
“Done,” she softly announced.
“Thanks,” I replied, fastening my strappy black Gianvito Rossi pumps.
Once she got back to her side of the bed, she commented, “I didn’t know you had a tattoo there.”
I slapped one of my hands on the back of my neck and stood. “Huh?”
Jordan whistled. “Freshie has ink? Let me see.”
She crossed over to the front of the bed and started pulling at my hand as I tried to back away.
“Jordan, stop, it’s not even that impressive,” I whined.
“Just one little peek, I won’t untie it,” they promised. “Besides, it’s unfair if only Marie got to see.”
Jordan made a good point and I reluctantly turned around and twisted my braids up on top of my head. I shivered when Jordan gently lifted the straps and almost collapsed when their warm breath brushed my skin.
“It looks…nice,” Jordan admitted. “When did you get it?”
“Over the summer, when my dad went to Thailand for a business trip, I went with him and found this cool tattoo parlor near where he was shooting. One night, I stopped by and told the artist I wanted something pretty but hard to find,” I explained.
When Jordan let go of the top, I faced her for the first time. She kind of looked like a puppy, very innocent and hopeful. I never saw that expression on their face before and wondered what it meant.
“Um, this might sound kind of bad but, I don’t remember anything from last night,” Marie admitted.
I whirled around to her. “Me either!” “I didn’t want to say anything but, yeah,” Jordan agreed.
“So, we all blacked out?” Marie asked.
“Maybe; I wonder if anyone else remembers anything,” I mentioned. “By the way, where’s my phone?”
“Oh.” Marie grabbed something from the floor and handed it to me. “Here.”
I tried to turn it on, but the screen was black. “It’s dead, my phone’s never dead.”
“Really?” Marie asked.
I nodded and shoved my phone into my back pocket. “I like to be able to leave when I want or reach anyone I lose while I’m out.”
“Or post about it anywhere,” Jordan added.
“Hey, you’re the one who’s always saying how important it is to maintain a following,” I defended, but my tone was not as light as I meant.
“I’m just saying that this whole thing is weird. I never blackout no matter what,” Jordan insisted.
“Did we all get drugged or something?” Marie pondered.
“Why would someone drug all three of us just for us to…” I glanced at the bed.
“So, we did…” Marie trailed off and I glanced up at her, noting her soft smile at Jordan.
I didn’t need to look at Jordan to know she had a similar expression on her face, but it didn’t help the sinking feeling in my stomach. No, I needed that feeling because whatever happened last night was a mistake. They obviously had something going on and I didn’t need to be in the middle. But why did the way they looked at each other make me feel light and miserable?
 The tension in the air was thick and I needed to breathe.
Then, a dull ache panged behind my eyes, and I winced as I cupped my forehead with my hand. “I need coffee, water, a shower, and eggs; not necessarily in that order.”
A few moments later, I was sandwiched between Marie and Jordan, in their masculine form, on a couch in Dusty’s backyard. The Vought Water that ran down my throat was so refreshing that I almost cried. It was cool outside even though the sun was high in the sky. I should have felt cold, but Jordan and Marie were both radiators.
Cate and Andre sat on a couch across from us, both looking a mix of concerned and awkward.
“So, do you guys remember anything from last night?” Jordan asked.
Andre shook his head. “I don’t even know how we got to Dusty’s.”
“It looked like a great party, though,” Cate commented, glancing around at all the discarded beer and liquor bottles scattered through the yard and all the vandalism around Dusty’s house.
“Has anyone checked socials?” I asked.
“You haven’t?” Andre asked, eyebrows raised.
I shook my head. “My phone’s dead.”
Cate handed me hers and I immediately went onto TikTok. Her For You page was flooded with videos from last night. Apparently, Emma had been in her giant form, chugging beers at the pool for a while. Then, there was one of Coco and me doing our “Sweetest Pie” dance in the middle of a dance circle. The next one was Cate cheering Andre on as he did a keg stand.
Then, there was one of Cate, Andre, Jordan, Marie, Coco, and me playing an intense game of flip cup, featuring Coco roasting Andre. Finally, there was one of me and Jordan making out in the middle of the dancefloor. My face burned as I watched myself grab at them desperately and their hands roamed all over me. My finger slipped to the next video where I was now between Jordan and Marie, grinding on the former while the latter stuck her tongue down my throat. Towards the end of the video, Jordan pushed some of my braids to the side and started nibbling on my neck.
My hand subconsciously wandered to the bite marks on my neck.  
“Whoa,” Marie whispered.
Jordan drank some more water, and I returned the phone to Cate.
“You three make a great throuple,” Andre encouraged.
“Shut up,” Jordan admonished.
I flinched at his tone and turned away.
“Okay, so, a lot happened last night and none of us remember,” Marie began, “what’s the last thing anyone remembers?”
Everyone paused for a moment.
“I remember walking out on the Tek Knight interview because I was upset with my dad but…I don’t know why,” Andre said.
“I remember the Tek Knight interview too and…it feels like something else happened but, I can’t remember,” Jordan agreed.
Cate nodded and I admitted that I could hardly think and couldn’t remember anything.
“It’s like someone put us through a time loop or something,” Marie commented.
Jordan perked up at that. “Do any of you know what day it is?”
“Friday,” Cate said with a shrug.
“Thursday?” Andre guessed.
“It’s Saturday; we’ve lost two days!” Jordan exclaimed.
I sipped some more water and nodded. “It’s like the Lotus Casino from Percy Jackson.”
At that, all their eyes were on me, and I shrank back a little.
“What? They’re good books.”
“It’s a little random, Y/N,” Andre pointed out.
“Well, it’s an accurate observation. In the book, people are trapped in the casino because it’s so great, but they don’t realize how much time has passed. Some people were there for years.”
“Anyway, do you think you can see what might have happened?” Marie asked.
I shook my head. “No matter how I think about it, I can’t look into the past.”
Cate suddenly looked somber as she glanced at her phone. “Well, I think I might have an idea who might’ve done this. Look who was at the party last night.”
She held her phone out for all of us to see. On it was a video of some Phi Epsilon guys playing beer pong. One of those Phi Epsilon brothers was Rufus. My stomach sunk at his smug image.
“Shit,” Andre muttered.
“But why would he do anything to us after Marie---” Jordan cut himself off and glanced at her.
“After Marie what?” Cate asked.
Once Marie explained what happened, Cate and Andre seemed stunned, but Andre immediately smiled.
“Now, that’s badass,” he complimented.
Marie smiled. “Thanks.”
“And it could be a reason for him to get revenge,” Cate observed.
“But why would he go after all of us if that’s the case?” I wondered.
Cate pursed her lips. “Well, drugging someone wouldn’t be something out of character for him.”
That’s when Cate shared everything that happened between her and Rufus last year. By the end, Andre and Jordan looked prepared to beat Rufus’ face in while Marie and I comforted Cate.
“I’m so sorry that happened,” I expressed.
“Did you ever report it?” Marie asked.
Cate shook her head. “Like anyone would’ve believed me. Besides, I felt so ashamed that I wanted to pretend it never happened.”
“We can’t let him get away with this,” Jordan argued.
“And what should we do besides beat what’s left of his ass?” Andre questioned.
“We can get him to admit what he did to Cate and us,” Marie offered.
“How?” I asked.
Jordan smirked. “I can come up with a few ways.”
Despite the new resolve in the group, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. Besides all the warring feelings inside and the swarm of thoughts in my head, I had this gnawing feeling that we were missing something.
“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Marie asked, slowly setting a hand on my knee.
Immediately, I jumped. “Um, nothing, it’s just…I feel like we were doing something important.”
“We’re about to nail a psycho, that’s pretty important,” Andre said.
I shook my head. “No, something else…something before all this.”
Jordan nodded. “Yeah, I get what you mean.”
Something was off in their tone that time but I couldn’t take too long to think about it. Seconds later, Coco marched up to us in a pair of white pumps. Her curls were piled on top of her head and her silver House of CB corset top and jeans highlighted her deep skin.
“There you are! I’ve been texting you for the last five minutes!” she huffed.
“Sorry, Coco, my phone’s dead,” I apologized.
Her eyes widened and then she blinked. “What? Never mind, we have to go, the initiate brunch is today.”
“Oh, right, I totally forgot.”
I slipped from under Marie’s hand and sauntered over to Coco. Even though she looked a little panicked and prepared to chew my ear off, she couldn’t have come at a better time.
Jordan stood. “Y/N, what about Rufus?”
He frowned at me, and I had to force myself not to react to his use of my real name.
“I’m sorry, I have to go to the initiate brunch but text me if you need anything,” I rushed.
“And shouldn’t we talk?” Marie added.
Coco’s slim but firm hand wrapped around my wrist, and she started tugging me away.
“We’ll talk later!” I called over my shoulder.
After a few minutes of walking, Coco turned to me and let go of my wrist.
“So, the Look At Me jeans worked,” she commented.
My eyes widened and I faced her. “You talked me into them?”
She frowned. “I don’t know if I would say that but, I helped you make the decision. Did you do too much last night?”
“No…maybe, I don’t know,” I admitted.
“Well, from what I remember, you did let loose, which you deserved, but I wasn’t with you the whole time…obviously.” Coco smiled as we continued walking. “Like I said, based on all those bite marks, they worked like a charm.”
I covered my neck and huffed. “Yeah, they did.”
“Okay, what’s up? You should be annoyingly happy but you look just like you did right before you gave a thirty-minute presentation in Brink’s class.”
The words were right on my tongue, but I couldn’t let them roll off. Coco and I were friends but, we weren’t as close as I was with Emma or Cate. I couldn’t tell her why I reacted every time Jordan or Marie grazed me or why I could barely look at either of them. No, it was way too much for our friendship.
“I just…I feel weird not remembering anything,” I explained. “Why were we at Dusty’s anyway?”
Coco raised an eyebrow. “You really don’t remember? We were all out celebrating our new initiates. We went to Alpha Tau first, then Whiskey Around because Lydia wanted their paloma, and then we ended up at Dusty’s.”
“Did the initiates come with us?” I asked.
“A few did but most of them were done by the time we went to Whiskey Around and Lydia got them rides back to their dorms.” Coco linked our arms together. “Come on, maybe some coffee and food will kickstart your brain.”
Neither ended up helping and for the first time, I wasn’t interested in what anyone was saying in the well-lit dining room table. As was customary, everyone wore breezy pastel or white dresses as servers occasionally refilled glassware and replaced empty dishes on the table. All I could think of was that video and how I was positive everyone at the table had seen it. That video had thousands of views and it was impossible that none of them had seen it.
Behind all their wide smiles and compliments on my blush pink knit Prada skirt set were fangs and vile words ready to be spewed. Sure, they were gushing with some initiates and sharing fun stories from years past, but it was only time before anyone confronted me on it.
“Y/N?”
I blinked and turned to see a pretty girl with chestnut skin and auburn Marley twists tied into a bun looking at me expectantly. “Oh, sorry, what were you saying?”
“I was saying that your dancing is amazing. I mean, I knew it was when you and Coco taught Tiana, Erica, and me the ‘Fly Girl’ dance but you were something else at that party.” Her voice had a hint of a southern twang and her eyes seemed to sparkle.
“Thanks,” I said, sipping some more coffee.
She was one of the three black girls who was accepted into Si Chi. Once my phone charged, I immediately went on #RushTok and saw that the girls Coco and I pushed for were accepted. The one sitting next to me was Naomi Banks, a crim major from New Orleans.  Erica Tyler and Tiana Wilkes, a Hero Management and Counting major respectively, were seated across from us near Coco. Out of all our pledges, they had some of the most impressive applications and I had a feeling that I had to stop Coco from skewering Sasha with her arguments.
Plus, I found a video one of Justine’s friends made that featured her gobsmacked expression at her rejection letter on Bid Day. The face nearly made me tremble with glee.
At least a couple of good things happened during the haze.
Naomi tapped my shoulder. “It’s no wonder those two were all over you.”
I almost coughed on the coffee and covered my mouth.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” she apologized.
I shook my head and set the porcelain cup down. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. In the future, be careful about mentioning anything from a night out with any of your new sisters.”
Naomi nodded and took a bite out of a piece of bacon. “Thanks, Y/N.”
“No problem. Did you enjoy last night?”
“Yes! I got to get to know so many of the girls here and everyone seems really nice.” Naomi leaned closer to me. “Liliana over there said that Vince from Sigma Kappa asked her for my Snap. He’s pretty cute for a white boy.”
“Sigma Kappa is a top house and Vince is one of the more eligible ones.”
“That’s good. Obviously, I won’t go after him if you or anyone else is interested.”
I smiled at her. “I appreciate it, Naomi, but I think you’re good.”
“Oh, and were you serious when you said you’d help me with my Intro to Forensics class?”
“Of course, a Si Chi girl always helps a sister in need.”
Naomi sighed. “That’s great; the TA’s a real dick, no offense.”
“None taken.”
I covered my laugh by shoving another forkful of French toast in my mouth. The sugary morsel was almost enough to lift my spirits. In Naomi’s defense, Jordan was the toughest out of all the crim TAs to the point they were borderline sadistic.
“Jordan’s tough but, they’re insanely passionate and dedicated to their work. So, they expect everyone to be at their standard,” I explained.
“So, they were like that even when you had them?” Naomi asked.
I nodded. “They terrified me in both forms but, they were okay once I got to know them.”
“I don’t know if I want to get to know them; I just want to pass.”
“It’s okay, I’ll help you.”
Then, I started wondering how the Rufus investigation was going. Since I left Dusty’s, Cate was the only one to reach out, asking to check in. It was a little weird how I got antsy that it wasn’t Jordan or Marie especially when I had no idea what to say to them.
Sydney tapped a fork against a champagne flute, jerking me from my thoughts. She stood at the head of the table, wearing a lavender mini Chanel tweed set. Her hair was in a half updo and she stood with perfect posture.
“First, I would like to welcome all of our new initiates to Si Chi,” she chimed.
She allowed for about ten seconds of applause.
“It is an honor to have found such great women to continue the legacy of this house. When I first came here, I was petrified of not being able to meet any of the house standards. Then, I met my mentor, Isabel Perkins, and she helped me see that we don’t meet these standards on our own----we meet them with our sisters.”
That time, she allowed for fifteen seconds of applause.
“That’s why I hope that you will connect with all of your big sisters since all of them are still here because they continue to maintain the good name of our house, which brings me to the second thing I wanted to discuss.” Sydney paused. “Obviously, we are all glad that we found a match in our new sisters but know that your place here is not permanent. We Si Chi girls hold ourselves to high standards academically and socially and if there is a concern that one of our sisters, new or returning, does not meet those standards, we cannot guarantee her place in our house.”
I swallowed thickly at her words and wondered if she was piercing me with her gaze.
“That being said, this is a place of sisterhood and a safe place for all women and myself and the rest of leadership work diligently to keep it that way,” She continued. “Will the leadership team stand?”
With that, Lydia, Sasha, Alina, and I stood from our seats. For the first time, I felt like I was under a microscope in the Si Chi house and wished everyone stopped looking at me.
“These girls, no, these women are the ones I have entrusted to help continue this house and select our new sisters. Please feel free to say hi to them whenever you see them or let them know if you have any concerns,” she announced.
During that round of applause, my phone started buzzing on my chair. I tried to discreetly grab it but hesitated when I saw Jordan’s name on the caller ID. I quickly silenced it and smiled at the crowd of girls looking at me.
Then, the phone started buzzing again and I rejected it again.
“Looks important, Y/N,” Sasha mouthed.
I hoped I hid my glare with my grin well enough and when I sat down, the phone went off again. I huffed, snatched it, and hurried into the nearest hallway, muttering my apologies as I went. Of course, it was a video call and when I answered, Jordan’s face filled the screen.
“Hello?” I answered.
“Where the hell have you been?” Jordan demanded.
I glanced around for onlookers and continued further away from the dining room. “Could you keep it down? I’m still at brunch.”
“Still?” Marie asked in the background.
“Yes.”
“And you couldn’t answer my texts?” Jordan griped.
“I didn’t get anything,” I insisted.
Based on how hard their jaw clenched, I decided not to mention that my phone was on Do Not Disturb. I tried not to think too hard about how they got past it.
“Did you find anything on Rufus?” I asked.
“No, Rufus may have gotten us all to Dusty’s, but he didn’t do anything to our heads,” Jordan admitted.
“And, they’re going to stay away from everyone since Cate still doesn’t want to make the report,” Marie added.
I nodded and started pacing in the hall. Something was off about all this and I still couldn’t tell what it was.
“I know that face, you’re not saying something, freshie,” Jordan called.
Sometimes, I hated how observant they were.
“It’s just…something has felt off about this whole thing. I mean, yes, Rufus is the creep of all creeps but he’s also a moron. He wants things that are quick and easy and getting into all our heads without being noticed takes a lot of planning,” I reasoned.
“You’re right. So, whoever messed with us is smart and didn’t have to make contact with any of us to make us lose our memories,” Marie continued.
“Or if they did have to make contact, it’s someone we’re comfortable with,” Jordan remarked.
At his words, the greatest epiphany hit me. There was only one person in this entire school with that kind of capability and the thought that they did this made the French toast start to rise in my throat. I hoped that I was wrong, and I knew I couldn’t tell my theory to Jordan or Marie; not yet.
“Okay, did you find out anything else?” I asked.
Then, Marie explained the trackers that were implanted in all of us and I frowned.
“Don’t our phones already do that?” I argued.
“You can leave your phone anywhere,” Marie countered.
“Touché. So, how do I get it out of me without causing further damage?”
“Um, you can come by my dorm, or I can come by the house and get rid of it for you.”
“I can stop by yours. I want to catch up with Emma anyway, give me, like, an hour or two.”
“Sure.”
I was about to hang up when Jordan stopped me and seemed to step away from Marie for a second.
“Look, I know this morning was weird and you probably still feel really uncomfortable but, I just wanted to tell you that we’re okay,” he said.
I hesitated. “‘Okay’?”
“Yeah, like, last night doesn’t have to mean anything so, don’t worry about it.”
“Uh huh.”
“Y/N, are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine, you’re fine, it’s all fine. I have to go.”
When I hung up, everything was blurry, and I leaned against the wall behind me. The tears were warm against my cheeks, and I did nothing to stop them. Last night meant nothing to Jordan and why would it? They’d had plenty of one-night stands and hookups, why would last night be any different? Why would I be any different? Marie probably felt the same and it was stupid to even think that there was some small glimmer of something.
Nothing was better, nothing would help me get back on track.
“Y/N?”
I straightened up at the sound of Sasha’s voice and swiped at my face. “Oh, hi.”
“That didn’t sound too good,” she expressed as she strutted closer to me.
With each step she took, her faux pitiful expression got more and more gleeful. I forced myself to stand as erect as I could.
“I appreciate the concern, Sasha, but it’s none of your business,” I defended.
My voice did not have nearly the bite it needed at the moment but all I wanted to do was get away from her. Even though she was shorter than me, it was like her presence took up the entirety of the hallway.
“Oh, but it is, you actually made it everyone’s business with those videos.”
The last word rolled off her tongue like dice and I thought her tongue poked out a little.
“I didn’t take or post them,” I hissed.
“But you know in this day and age you have to always be on the lookout; every Si Chi girl knows that, Y/N.”
I tried to push past her but she blocked me. “We should be getting back.”
“Oh, but we’re just getting started,” Sasha insisted. “You know, Sydney’s speech about sisters helping each other meet house standards really stuck with me. I’ve always seen you as a little sister, Y/N, one who thinks she knows everything and can’t stop messing up.”
“That’s funny, Sasha, because I thought you were my big sister who always needed my notes to pass any of her classes,” I rushed.
Sasha narrowed her eyes at me. “I think you need help meeting our social standards and I’m more than happy to assist. I know you thought that you were hot shit once you got in with the Top Five but, it sounds like you’re on your way out. Last night, Jordan and that new girl used you and spat you out.”
“Stop it, Sasha,” I whispered.
“I’m telling you the truth. If you’re not careful, there may not be a place for you in Si Chi anymore. I mean, everyone’s seen the videos and I would hate for anyone to feel uncomfortable here.”
She grinned wider than the Cheshire cat and I didn’t know whether I wanted to wipe the grin off her or disappear into a puddle of my tears. I didn’t get to decide as Sydney appeared from the other end of the hallway and made her way over to us.
“What’s going on here?” Sydney asked.
Sasha beamed at Sydney. “I was just telling Y/N how inspired I was about your speech and how I want to continue helping her meet our house standards.”
Sydney glanced at me. “Well, I appreciate your dedication to mentoring a younger sister, but Y/N is one of the brightest women to enter this house. I wish I could stick around and see what she’ll do next year.”
I tried not to gape at her. “Thanks, Sydney.”
“Of course.” Sydney turned to Sasha. “And I know that you understood that I meant what I said about this being a safe space for all women. While we do hold ourselves to a high caliber, we do not shove a sister who struggles. If we did, I can’t imagine what Amber or Hailey would have done if they knew half the things we did freshman year.”
“Y-yes, right,” Sasha sputtered.
“Anyway, we should get back and review the events for next week with the girls,” Sydney instructed.
Sasha nearly sped down the hallway while Sydney and I strolled after her. We didn’t say anything, but I could have burst from the gratitude I had for her.
A couple of hours later, Marie let me into her dorm, and I sulked at the fact that Emma wasn’t there.
“Where’d she go?” I asked.
“She found some clue about some weird dude we ran into after you left with Coco,” Marie commented. “I guess she decided to go after him.”
I nodded, partly infuriated since that sounded like something Emma would do. She could have at least texted me. I was hoping for some sort of buffer between Marie and me.
So, I sat down on Emma’s bed and played with a fluffy yellow pillow. Marie sat down across from me and looked down at her hands.
“Will it hurt?” I asked.
Marie looked up at me. “A little but I’ll try to make it stop as soon as I can.”
I nodded and dryly laughed. “Last night was really wild, huh?”
“Yeah…should we…talk about it?” she asked.
I shrugged and kept picking at the material on the pillow. “Only if you want to.”
“I know this is so weird but, you and Jordan have also been acting weird. They told me that last night was ‘okay’ and that we didn’t have to make it weird but it’s already weird!” she exclaimed.
“They told me the same thing,” I admitted.
“Do you agree with them?”
“Do you?”
“I asked you first.” She barely made eye contact with me and I started playing with the pillow.
“I don’t know…I don’t know how I feel about any of this,” I confessed.
“Do you regret it?” Marie asked.
“I can’t regret something I don’t remember.”
The words landed like a bomb and I wanted to take it all back. Marie flinched at my words and I wanted to make it better.
“I mean I…I think I’d have a better idea if I remembered. But I also think that you and Jordan should talk again,” I tried slowly.
She frowned. “Why?”
“I mean you two are close now and I know something happened earlier but I don’t know what but I feel as though I’m the biggest third wheel in the history of third wheels around you two.”
It was quiet for a few seconds, and I wanted to use my ability to figure out what would be the quickest way out of there.
“You’re not a third wheel,” Marie maintained. “I like it when you’re around and I like it when you’re with me and Jordan.”
“I like being around you too, but we’re friends and it’s only natural.”
Marie paused. “Oh. I mean, I like being friends but, yeah, never mind.”
“What is it?”
Marie shook her head. “Nothing. Let me get that tracker out of you.”
I nodded but I was dying to know what she was going to say. Did I totally mess up? Did I misstep again?
She knelt in front of me and touched my left shoulder. Marie’s brown eyes met mine in a silent question and I nodded. As soon as I did, she slipped my cardigan to the side and brushed her hand up and down my neck and shoulder until she sensed something.
“Found it,” she breathed.
I nodded.
“Just stay still, okay?”
“Okay.”
My knee started bouncing and before I could stop it, Marie placed her free hand on it but stayed focused on my shoulder. She traced her hand across my shoulder, dragging something in her path. Eventually, when she got a few inches away from my neck, something slipped out and I yelped at the sting.
“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” she questioned.
“No, it just stung,” I insisted as I covered the wound.
Marie held her palm towards me, and I narrowed my eyes at the tiny, bloodied tracker in her grasp. “Now you’re safer.”
“Thanks.”
She slipped a band-aid onto the wound and pulled my cardigan back in place. “How was brunch?”
“Good. We have three new black girls.” “That’s awesome!”
“Yeah. They all better survive Hell Week.”
Marie groaned. “Does that mean you’ll have more to do?”
“Kind of but it’s way easier than Rush Week.”
“Does that mean we’ll be able to hang out more? Class doesn’t count.”
“I hope so, I mean, if you want to.”
“I just told you I like being around you, of course I want to.”
Her smile somehow made me feel better, actually, her smile always did that. When I thought about it, I rarely saw Marie upset or frowning. She was always so bright and shiny, almost like Luke. All I knew was that I didn’t want to take her shine away.
“Yeah, sure,” I replied.
Then, I saw a brief premonition of my prime suspect. They smiled so sadly at me.
“I wish you hadn’t seen that,” they whispered.
When I blinked, Marie’s smile wavered a little.
“Is something wrong?” she asked.
“No, I just have to check on something,” I insisted.
“Oh, do you need any help?”
“No, I’ll text you if something comes up. Thanks for getting rid of the tracker!”
Cate’s dorm had the calmest energy out of all my friends. It might have had something to do with all the green accents, from the wallpaper to the various green pillows on her bed. Last year, she got really into color psychology, and I hoped that it worked as I sat across from her on her comfy rug.
“I saw that you got three new black sisters. Congratulations!” she cheered.
“Thanks. They’re all really cool, and I need them to make it through Hell Week,” I joked as well as I could.
She nodded and grabbed her bong from her coffee table. “With you as their big sister, they have hope.” She took a hit and extended it to me.
“No, thanks.”
She frowned. “You’re always open to smoking.”
“I had a couple of Bloody Marys at brunch, and I don’t want to risk crossfading.”
It wasn’t a total lie, but I needed to be as clear-headed as possible for this conversation. Cate’s big blue eyes eyed me for what felt like an eternity, but she shrugged and set the bong in front of her.
“Fair enough,” she conceded. “So, you, Marie, and Jordan, huh?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know…”
Cate’s eyes widened. “What do you mean you don’t know? I saw the three of you together. Even though you were acting awkward as hell around them.”
“Well, I’m still processing everything that happened and the fact that I don’t know what happened.”
“It’s pretty obvious what happened, Y/N.”
Even though her voice had a teasing lilt, it felt like she was spitting in my face.
“I mean, I know what happened, but I hate how I don’t remember any of it. It’s been driving me nuts all day and I could barely focus on the Si Chi brunch.”
Cate straightened up. “Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to invalidate your experience.”
“And it sucks that this is my experience, you know. I mean, I don’t know how I feel about either of them and then I go and have sex with both of them? What kind of freak am I?”
“You’re not a freak, Y/N, and, you’re going to hate this, but it’s pretty obvious how you feel about both of them.”
 I cut my eyes to Cate. “It doesn’t feel obvious. I’m so confused, and I don’t know how to act around either of them anymore. It used to be easy to mess with Jordan but now I freeze up whenever their name pops up on my phone. And Marie is so nice an-and pretty and funny. Her powers are insane, and it makes sense that Vought scooped her up now.”
“You don’t sound confused to me, Y/N.”
“Really, because I feel confused all over!”
Cate held her hands up and pushed her bong aside. “Okay, that’s fair. You know, we’re doing a project in my advanced psych class about denial, and I’ve found that a lot of people in denial just go around in circles, driving themselves nuts because they won’t admit something.”
But there was nothing for me to admit. I was clear that Jordan and Marie had something going on and I didn’t want to be an interloper. Even though Marie said she liked having me around, I was positive it was just as a friend and to quell any fights between her and Jordan. But, their fighting wouldn’t be an issue anymore.
When I told Cate as much, she huffed. “How are you this smart but this dense?”
“Excuse me?”
“You’ve been flirting with both for the past few weeks. All of you can’t seem to stop talking about the others and they’re both willing to kill for you. You obviously can’t stop thinking about them and I’m sure they’re the same.”
She looked at me as though I should know what she was saying but I felt lost. Then, I started thinking about how Marie’s smile made me feel like melting inside and how I instantly wanted to help her when her schedule got messed up or how I felt warm and fuzzy when Jordan got between me and Chad, and Thad.
“It’s impossible,” I whispered.
“What’s impossible?” Cate asked.
“I…I can’t like two people at the same time. I’m not in middle school anymore!”
“What’s so bad about liking multiple people?”
“Because you’re just supposed to pick one, Cate, everyone else has managed to do that. There’s something wrong with me.” “Hey,” Cate softly grabbed my hands, “there’s nothing wrong with you. If anything, it shows how much love you have to give.”
“That’s so cheesy.”
“But it’s true.” She smiled. “Why are you so afraid to say it?”
I hesitated. “Because then it would be real and if it’s real, that means that I could get hurt, twice.”
Then, Cate pulled me into her arms and slowly rocked. “Everyone’s afraid of being hurt but, it’s a part of life. It may not feel like it but if it does happen, you’ll get over it.”
“I know but, at the same time, I’m so scared. I mean, I didn’t see any of this coming and I see most things coming.”
Cate hummed in reply. The mix of vanilla and weed wafting off of her was enough to make me sleepy.
“Plus, I imagined my first time to be a little more romantic than a drunken night at Dusty’s.”
Cate paused and pushed me so that we were eye to eye. “What?”
I shrunk a little and looked down at my hands. “Please don’t give me that look.”
“I’m not giving you any look.”
“Yes, you are, all pitiful and shocked. Excuse me for having a Cher Horowitz approach to sex.”
Cate relaxed. “I’m sorry, I’m not judging, and I shouldn’t be surprised since you have all those standards.”
“Cate, have you seen how picky I am about shoes?”
“Yes but, I’m shocked it hasn’t come up before.”
I shrugged and picked at my deep purple lounge pants. Cate was not the first person to express that before, but it wasn’t my fault that I was raised to have standards and all the guys I’d been around were uninteresting at best and disgusting at worst.
“I didn’t always look like this,” I muttered. “Emma would probably lie and say that I was always a bombshell or something but it’s not true. I was fine in elementary but middle school was hell; I struggled with my weight, and I was taller than everyone else, and don’t get me started on being the only black girl in class.”
Cate didn’t say anything, and I continued.
“There was this one black boy, Matthew, who made making me miserable his mission. When I would run on the playground, he screamed ‘Earthquake, everyone run!’. Every day, he made sure I knew how ugly and fat I was, and I didn’t need it because my parents, mainly my mom, told me it too. The summer before high school, I was sick of it and started learning all the tricks on how to glow up; skin, hair, makeup, everything.” I sighed. “I did a little better in high school, but no one asked me out and I ended up going to prom with a group of friends, which was fun but I wished that I was one of the girls who received one of those grand promposals. When I got a vision of how great my future was going to be, it gave me hope that Matthew and everyone else was wrong.”
“They are wrong, and Matthew can go suck a dick,” Cate affirmed.
I chuckled. “Anyway, I still get nervous around guys, and the whole being attractive thing is new to me.”
“But you’re comfortable around Jordan and Marie.”
I nodded. “I am but I don’t understand it. I’ve never liked anyone who wasn’t a straight guy before, and I don’t know what any of it means.”
“It means that sexuality is a spectrum, and you lean towards the not straight side. You don’t have to know everything right now, Y/N, and I know it’s easier said than done with you but, life has surprises, and it wouldn’t be fun without them,” Cate encouraged.
“I hate surprises.”
“Well, get used to them.” I smiled but paused. “What if they don’t like me back?”
“I highly doubt that since I’ve seen how they both look at you. Honestly, being around you three can get a little uncomfortable,” she teased. “But, in a world where they reject you, you will always have me, and I will make their lives worse in ways that Matthew wouldn’t even dream of.”
Cate’s tone and smile were earnest, and it made me feel better about ranting. I was stunned that I told her my secret, but I guess she had one of those high trust faces that made anyone want to spill everything. For the first time in a long time, I felt relaxed, like I’d just finished the most intense shiatsu session ever. It was crazy but I felt like I was breathing better than before.
It was crazy what secrets could do to a person.
The thought made me gulp but I grinned at Cate and hugged her again.
“Thanks for listening,” I muttered.
“Of course. Thanks for finally being honest,” she returned.
I tried not to bristle in her grip as I pulled away. We both stood and slowly made our way towards the door.
“So, are you going to go with a grand gesture to tell Jordan and Marie how you feel or are you going to play it cool?” Cate teased.
“I’m not sure,” I started. “I still can’t get over what you said about how they’d kill for me. How could you tell?”
Cate paused. “I mean, they glare at anyone who looks your way in a flirty sense.”
“But that doesn’t mean they’d kill for me.”
“I think you’re overthinking things, Y/N.”
“Maybe.” I stopped in front of her door and faced her. “You know, it’s funny how you said that life’s full of surprises and that I should get used to them. Remember how you thought Rufus messed with our heads?”
“Yeah, because he did,” Cate said slowly.
“Actually, Jordan and Marie already interrogated him, and he probably got us all to Dusty’s but there’s no way he could have wiped all our memories without touching us,” I informed.
“Wow, that’s crazy.”
“Yeah, and Jordan brought up a good point. They said if someone had to touch us to wipe our memories, it would have to be someone we knew and were comfortable with. They’re right but I also know someone who could do it without touching anyone if her gloves are off.”
Cate paled as she listened, and I felt my anger rising from deep within my stomach. “Y/N, I can explain.”
“You can explain how you violated all of us?” I hissed.
“It wasn’t like that, please!”
She reached out to grab my arm and as she grasped it, I realized that she wasn’t wearing her leather gloves. My mouth opened but everything faded to black.
231 notes · View notes
Text
So! The demo is finally out! Or, a bit of it is. What’s next?
Let’s run over a few questions, so hopefully everyone is in the loop!
Q: Why is it only a little bit after so long?
A: Development has been all over the place and a big reason is just how difficult it can be to mediate between artists, programmers, writers, etc.. Mental and physical health, personal emergencies, etc.. are also a big part of this— and it wasn’t anticipated that this would eat up so much time.
The original game was planned to have Sauce (presently speaking!) handling a large majority of tasks all at once. So— when health stalled, production stalled.
Of course, healing took a bit of time to. And even now, that’s why so much of the demo is left unfinished. Overall— it wasn’t possible to complete the demo in the same amount of time the original demo was completed because realistically speaking— that was extremely unhealthy and rushed.
Because of that tight deadline, 48 hours to a week, many significant errors or retconned elements made their way into the game. A huge toll was taken that resulted in extreme burnout after. Quality (as can be seen in the CGs) suffered. An emphasis on quality is currently being prioritized, but I can safely say that I am no longer able to work at my original 2021-2022 pace.
Q: Why are you (Sauce) working alone?
A: At this point in time— we had spent a while working on the GUI and design/function of the game. It is, after all, set to have some pretty hefty features.
Translation and dub settings
Censorship and Softcore modes
A VERY LARGE story map with several endings
An additional “one-shot” story mode wherein every ending you unlock, you then unlock additional content
That takes a lot more planning than we’d anticipated.
How do we make this efficiently run on most systems?
Are we able to make sure that the size of this game is compatible with older devices?
Are the assets optimized? ( A lot of time has gone into re-drawing and working out sprite systems )
What settings are accessibility necessary for impaired players? How do we implement those options?
How do we design a stylish and efficient system?
That was something we had figured originally would be pretty easy to work out! But multiple people here are wearing multiple hats.
The rest of the team is actively working on those portions. But at the moment— we’ve decided to shelve literal art development and scripting (which was where we were hovering for a while) until we got the programming bits truly sorted out.
That leaves little old me! While they worked on this, I’ve been spending time making sure we could serve you a sample of what’s to come. My job is doling out a taste of the narrative, style, etc.. That way, once they’re finished, we can consider any feedback in the implementation of these portions of the game in the final, official build.
Hopefully that makes sense! TL;DR - Everyone’s busy making the important program my bits and designing the menus. So I’ve stepped away to work on this so you all have something to see in the meantime!
Q: Why are you REBUILDING THE DEMO?
A: The old demo— you’d think it would be easy to patch up. But it’s literally the very first build, sized up and fixed and stitched over. Unfortunately it was an unoptimized mess, even for what it was.
Hopefully a cleaner, more organized build will allow for better gameplay. But the key factor is just a desire for better quality!
Q: How often will you be uploading new additions?
A: Until all the bugs are fixed and the whole demo is rebuilt. This should be every week or so until then. Once it’s all done, the demo will see a re-release publicly!
In the meantime, please keep in mind bugs may be aplenty— and I personally apologize for this. Demos released are intended to show proof of work— but they may not be the best, most fun experience for narrative-seeking players. It’s advised immersion-prioritizing players wait until the build is fully finished and christened on our steam page!
Q: Will there be Mac support?
A: I will absolutely try!
Hopefully that helps give a bit more insight. Unfortunately it’s difficult to articulate everything that’s going on, but we’ll do our best! We’d like to have someone more verbally gifted helping us to write these posts, but until we decide how to go about that, you’re stuck with me.
We’ll do the best we can to answer any questions as clearly as possible. And again— we thank you all for your patience.
Making SDJ was clearly a messier experience than we had considered. It’s been a rollercoaster— and as Sauce speaking, I can actually attribute most of the delays to my own personal health and absence.
That— I am sorry for.
The rest of the team is working very hard to put something together that’s quality. I can promise with my whole heart that they’re doing their best. We’re all just people passionate about this project, and no matter the weather I don’t think it’s ever not on our minds.
I look forwards to putting out a large Kickstarter update soon, detailing our work and more! And I’m excited to open the airways for more and more communication.
But for now— we’ll see you next bug-fixing update.
- Sauce
192 notes · View notes
smila-mac · 5 months
Text
part one of stuff i’ve noticed on my re-read
~~
when pony is describing Soda he says that he never cracks open a book, but when he’s talking about Darry he says that he’s ‘not interested’ rather than just saying he doesn’t read
when pony describes Johnny and Dally he uses ‘was’ and ‘used to’ a lot more than he does for the others
Pony thinks the only reason the gang liked him was because he was sodas and Darrys little brother
Pony LIKES steve, steve just doenst like him
Johnny and Dally are literal opposites of each other, Johnny is described as a puppy who had been kicked too many times where as Dallas is a cat and tough
Soda is still trying to mediate Pony and Darry even when Darry isn’t there and it was all over :(
Soda and Johnny are both 16 at the start of the book, that’s so weird
Dallas just leaves when Johnny tells him to back off Cherry, this is the first instance of Dallas loving Johnny
204 notes · View notes
party-gilmore · 1 year
Text
Everybody talking about “but WHY did they have to regress their character arcs like that 😡” re: the boys fighting over Keeley like that’s not the entire fucking point.
Like characters in the show haven’t consistently been human in the nature of their backsliding sometimes
Like that very specific thing isn’t brought up and addressed outright in the same episode
Like it wasn’t significant that Keeley refused to have any part of that, at all, positive or negative either way just refusal to engage. No taking time out of her night to mediate, or scold, or coddle, just “handle your shit.”
Like they didn’t immediately realize they were regressing and letting old familiar feelings and new scarier ones get the better of them, and go right back to “well shit okay oops we fucked up lets uh… let’s just agree we were idiots for a bit and move forward from that”
Like that’s LIFE, babyyyy!!! That’s wonderful!!!
503 notes · View notes
valiantverses · 5 months
Text
The Azrael Series: Chapter One
(Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader/ Slowburn/Sort of Enemies to Friends to Lovers)
°°°°°
Summary/Notes: Task Force 141 is assigned a new member to deal with Makarov for good. Highly-skilled, brutally efficient and devastatingly competent, Ghost has met his match - and finds himself at odds with the SAS Fraternization Regulations as getting to know you makes him re-evaluate a life he never thought to allow himself.
°°°°°
Chapter One
Introduction 1
@beansproutmafia @chinuneko @agustdpeach
Tumblr media
Click.
Ghost watched you methodically assemble your rifle, noting how deliberate each movement was. You worked smoothly - barrel into receiver, scope in place, alignment done perfectly. He met your eyes as you surveyed the area, sliding in casings into the magazine with focused intensity.
Not sparing him another glance, you turned to look into your scope, securing the perimeter. Out on the craggy cliff face of the unforgivingly frigid Ural mountains, escape would not be easy. The only thing keeping you from being spotted was the taiga camouflage you wore and the relative cover of the copse of rocks you had climbed on to next to the lieutenant, chest pressed flat on to the rough ground as you settled yourself into a prone position.
"Alpha Two, in position and operational."
Your voice was clear through the coms, unhampered by the face coverings you wore even as your warm breath created soft puffs of vapour, swirling lazily into the air.
Next to you, Riley shifted, your sides touching as he took a final look over the perimeter and inconspicuously - attempting to, anyway - looked over your rifle to see your handiwork.
"Alpha Actual, in position and operational."
His voice reverberated through the rock you had both deemed fit to survey the target location - A laboratory nestled in a valley in the Ural mountains that served as a logistics facility for Makarov, protected by the mercenaries he hired.
"Copy, Alpha Squad. Bravo Squad getting into position, T-Minus 10. Maintain positions. Over."
"Copy." "Copy."
Twin voices rang out, and then there was a silence, a chasm between you and the lieutenant.
You did nothing to break it, comfortable in the stillness of the break of dawn, even as the lieutenant continued to sneak assessing looks at you.
Though your file spoke for itself, experience and skills clearly laid out for the entire team to peruse in black - admittedly mostly redacted - ink, it was another thing entirely to trust a new teammate to watch your back.
Station Chief Laswell had attempted to soothe the situation, utilizing lots of what you recognized to be CIA mediation training to make the mission seem like less of what it was.
But the message was clear to you immediately upon receiving team assignments.
Ghost was babysitting you.
It didn't matter, you decided. You were the unknown variable in a well-oiled machine that had been training together for months. A factor that could put the team at risk so long as they didn't know - or trust - you.
Acceptance would come. Or it wouldn't - you rarely found the kind of stability needed to forge lasting relationships in this lifestyle.
Hunching your shoulders as the wind picked up, you meticulously cleared each area of your assigned quadrant, catching sight of Sergeant McTavish as he came into the view of your scope on the southernmost side of the compound.
Sergeant McTavish - Soap, as he had insisted you called him - had given you the warmest reception by far. He had taken one look at you during introductions and had been not just welcoming but outright friendly, giving you a wide smile and offering to take you on a tour of the team's home base.
You watched as Soap glanced behind him, jerking his head in the direction of the building closest to him as another hooded figure sidled up by his side - Sergeant Garrick.
Sergeant Garrick did not have quite the same warmness as Soap, but his wary smile had seemed genuine, facial muscles pulling up in such a way that your deeply ingrained intelligence training had told you was free of deception. He had offered to spar, and said that he'd give you a lay of the land outside the base upon return from this mission.
That's about where any sense of welcome started and ended with the team, Laswell and Captain Price had kept you at arms length, a clipped sort of professionalism. Lieutenant Riley was an apathetic sort of distance, and you had the sense that he was on the look out for any of your weaknesses and would no doubt be more than glad to pull out the Personnel Transfer Forms in his desk that had barely ever seen the light of day if you failed to live up to expectations.
You kept your breathing low and steady, the high elevations making the air feel thin. Next to you, you felt the lieutenant shift.
"Our directive mandates recon and reaction only, no active engagement."
His eyes on you felt like an itching in the back of your throat, easy enough to ignore but always at the back of your mind.
"Yes, sir." You affirmed, laser focused on clearing the western perimeter of the compound. "I was there when the instructions were given."
There was a pregnant pause where you continued constant surveillance, not even looking up as in your peripheral vision the blazing nothingness of freshly fallen snow was obscured by the bone white of your lieutenant's skull mask.
"I could do without your attitude, sergean-"
He had leaned in close enough to you that you were able to reach behind him to his nape and pull him in your direction, sandwiching yourself between his bulky body and the rough stone below. Before he could pull away, you tightened your grip on his coat, indicating with your free hand to remain low on the ground.
It had been subtle, well hidden, but the glint of a sniper scope aimed in your general direction had you reacting immediately.
Slightly winded from the lieutenant's weight on you, you reached up and clicked on your coms link.
"Captain, Alpha Two reporting. Hostile sniper positively ID'ed in area of operations. Westernmost building, clear line of sight of Bravo Team. Requesting green light for engagement."
You began to relax your arm but were quickly pinned to place by a hefty elbow as Ghost grabbed you by the collar of your coat, growling into your ear.
"Alpha Two heard. Confirm, Alpha Actual?"
Price's voice rang out of the coms, to no response.
Ghost snarled at you, placing his other hand next to your head, effectively locking you into place.
"Fuckin' hell sergeant, never heard of an anti reflect? Nine times out of ten a sniper has a sunshade o-"
"East facing window on furthest building, two windows down from the top floor. Sunshades work by blocking out light reflections but only with direct sunlight. The snow is freshly fallen and we're south- they hadn't accounted for the reflection of the sun onto the snowbank behind us. Nobody would expect hostiles on a blank cliff face-"
He grunted, keeping his eyes trained on you even as he reached over to look into your scope, bodies still pressed tightly together.
"Alpha Actual, positive ID'ed hostile? Over"
The captain's message once again went unanswered.
You shifted your legs a little, freezing when his thighs squeezed your sides in warning as he surveyed the westernmost building, the brutalist architecture starker in the snow.
You spoke in low tones, trying to get him to see your point. The low oxygen environment forced you to conserve your time spent talking.
"They're deeper into the building and have partial cover because of the drainage. They'd have direct line of fire on Sergeant Garrick and Sergeant McTavish. It'd be like shooting fish in a barrel."
"Alpha Actual, do you copy? Ghos-"
He huffed, the movement reverberating through you as he eased away from his position on top of you, falling into a low crouch behind the rock.
"Captain, hostile sniper ID'ed. West building, two windows from top. Clear line of sight on Bravo. Over."
There was another tense pause as the coms line grew silent, you taking the opportunity to roll over on to your stomach and keep watch on Soap and Garrick's position.
"Copy, Alpha Actual. Alpha Two, request to engage approved- Alpha Actual and Bravo Squad, maintain position."
"Copy, Alpha Two moving to position."
You wasted no time, disassembling your rifle in seconds, taking care not to let the snow into any openings as you turned to face your lieutenant and gave him a perfunctory nod, not waiting for his response as you left the relative safety of the rock formation.
The trek to the Southeast of the valley was arduous, the oxygen thin and the paths non-existent in the freshly fallen snow. Your lungs took in searingly cold air and your vision started to blur as the whiteness of the snow began to bleed into each other, the visor you wore being the only thing that kept you from snow blindness. Sometimes it became necessary to crawl on your hands and knees in the areas that were particularly visible to the valley down below. You did your best to keep your deep breaths from drowning out the coms, hearing Garrick and Mctavish's confirmation of identifying the sniper and entering an obscured alcove.
As you reached a copse of rocks that had the Western building in sight, you took off the gloves which the jagged rocks you had crawled on had embedded into and immediately began assembling your rifle, the familiarity of the metal body a comfort even in the frigid air.
You breathed in, then exhaled, before focusing on identifying the hostile sniper in front of you.
As your eyes began to adjust to the darkness of the empty room, a figure began to form, carved out of the inky blackness, partially hidden behind a mounted rifle.
The outside world stuttered to a stop. There was your breathing, low and calm. There was the enemy, looking up from their scope. There was your finger on the trigger, and then there was the the enemy's body jerking back, a bullet between his eyes as he slumped against the wall.
You waited.
You kept the corpse in sight of the crosshair, making sure the enemy's radio was within sight of you at all times.
Because if there was a sniper, then there would be a spotter, and it would just be a matter of who was more patient.
There was a flurry of movement as another person emerged out of the darkness and ran to their previous partners radio, stopping abruptly and collapsing as the insides of their skull became acquainted with the wall behind them.
"Captain, hostiles eliminated."
"Copy, Alpha Two. Bravo Squad, commence operation."
You kept your eyes trained on Soap and Garrick. You ensured they avoided engaging with the enemy, removing obstacles from their path before it could become a problem. Through the coms, you led them to the intelligence building and then back out, until they had successfully left the compound with Makarov's data in hand.
It was a perfect mission, and you could see by the pleased set of Garrick's shoulders, the twitch of Price' lips and the glint of Soap's eyes that the team really, really needed this win.
Evidently, not everyone was pleased with your performance.
Being the last one out of the chopper before debrief, you felt a hand on your shoulder, tugging you back until that familiar skull mask was in your vision once more.
"Liuetenant." You inclined your head, unsure of what he wanted.
"I don't like your attitude, sergeant."
"I don't need you to like me, sir. "
He remained silent, eyes boring into your own.
You regarded him, standing under the bright lights of the air hangar, mask and snow clothing so bright it almost made it hard to look at him. So you continued on.
"All I need is for you to know that on the field, I have your back."
Your lips quirked up as you managed a relaxed salute, muttering a 'sir' as you went to enter the debriefing room and began giving your report when everyone had gathered.
There was not a shred of doubt in your mind that the skull mask was trained on you the entire time.
152 notes · View notes
sixth-light · 4 months
Text
I've been thinking a lot lately* about how artistic works are so intimately products of their moment and in conversation with it, and how easy this is to overlook both in terms of discussing a work and in terms of anticipating or considering new additions to an older work.
The first is important because so many judgements that can be made about a work are only meaningful when you know what their context was. What readers need or want to see, particularly in terms of representation, is hugely mediated by what else is available to them at the time. Yeah this is about stuff like "Rocky Horror was progressive when it was created" but also it's about stuff like "the John Carter movie bombed because it was regarded as derivative", when in fact the source material originated a bunch of the 'derivative' scenes and tropes that were then used by better-known movies before a John Carter movie ever got made.
The second is important because...even if you come back to a work, as a creator, you can only make new parts of it as the person you are now, in conversation with the world and genre as it is now, not as it was when you started. Taking a mildly-infamous-among-fantasy-fans example, Melanie Rawn's unfinished Ambrai trilogy; she's often said that she can't finish it because her life has moved on and...as sad as I am it was never finished, I think that's probably smart! She could write a third book one day, maybe, but it never could or would be the third book she would have written in the 1990s. And even if she did manage that somehow, the genre has moved on in such a way that it would feel weird and probably quite offputting to read a book doing with gender and feminism what the Ambrai books were doing in the '90s, because they are/were inherently in conversation with an era of fantasy that is now past.
All of which is to say that:
as a reader (or watcher) I think it's good to hold in mind, when engaging with a work from a time and/or place unfamiliar to you, the extent of what you don't know about the context of the work
as a creator, I think it's good to be very realistic about what you're going to actually achieve when you are making something over a long time period or coming back to something you left unfinished. You can totally do that! It can be incredibly rewarding! But the thing you make now is not the thing you would have made then, probably not even the thing you imagined you were going to make then, and that's just the nature of art.
*The reason I have been thinking about this is partly books I have been reading (Mara of the Acoma, you are my blorbo) and partly a very fun podcast I have been listening to which has re-read The Ruins of Ambrai and done a lot of discussion about its context, finishing up with a great interview with Kate Elliott about writing fantasy in the '90s (and writing it now, as she is still writing great but different books!). Anyway go listen to the Hot Nuance Book Club, it's a good time.
108 notes · View notes