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meanbihexual · 2 years

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What kind of clothes is your oc most comfortable wearing?

Thank you for the ask! I've got a kind of mini-obsession with OC fashion going on right now, so I'm really excited to answer! I'm going to focus on Safi for this one, because she's the one I'm currently playing the most Space Barbie with.

Safi's been with the Jedi almost her entire life--seriously, they took her in when she was 3 days old--so their approach to clothing heavily influenced her style and what she's comfortable with. She grew up in an enclave on Tiisheraan, which (in my headcanon) is very similar to Odessen geography-wise: lots of hills, forests, lakes and rivers, etc. It has a relatively mild climate and experiences seasons, but no real extremes in either direction. Due to their environment, the Masters at the enclave would wear clothes that were easy to move around in--comfortable pants and shirts (thicker and long-sleeved for colder months, lighter and short sleeved when it was warm), with boots or the Star Wars equivalent of tennis shoes for their feet. Weather-appropriate accessories, such as coats or hats, were worn as needed. When indoors, some would don the traditional Jedi robe, but many eschewed it entirely, following the example of Master Elisavhette, who ran the enclave and did not have either the time or patience to put one on.

Based on these early examples, and what she wore as a child when her clothes were chosen for her, Safi pretty much sticks to the pattern of well-made, simple, and practical. She prefers leggings and athletic pants to more structured, less comfortable styles (and has several pairs of what she calls "fancy leggings" for occasions where regular ones wouldn't be appropriate, which are basically just thicker and look more like fitted dress pants, but are still easy to do a flip in if the occasion arises), but she's more versatile in her tops. She has a wide variety of tunics, tank tops, sweaters, and long and short sleeved t-shirts. She sticks mostly to solid colors or simple patterns, and steers clear of anything really elaborate or bold. For shoes she's usually in boots of some kind, although on her ship or in her quarters she pretty much just runs around in fuzzy socks.

Color-wise, she likes blues, greens, greys, and the occasional soft pink or purple. (I headcanon that the Jedi don't do the whole exclusively-brown-and-cream aesthetic because it's boring and I hate it.) Most of these are in muted or dark shades, but she does wear the occasional piece that stands out a bit more.

Speaking of comfort, I would be remiss if I didn't mention her mask. As Safi is only half Miralukan, she does have eyes, but she has very, very poor physical vision, so she relies on her Force vision, which thankfully is fine. As a child, she wore the mask to help her focus on improving her skills with her Force vision and to keep her from attempting to use physical vision in its place, and by the time she was a teenager it was mostly just a habit to wear it, combined with the fact that she did like having a piece of her Miralukan heritage. However, as events in her adulthood happen and she develops a raging case of CPTSD, the mask becomes very much a comfort thing for her. It acts as a sort of barrier between herself and everything and everyone else in the galaxy, and she feels extremely vulnerable without it. She takes it off to sleep, and bathe, and occasionally in front of people she trusts absolutely implicitly, but for the most part she's never without it. This does change as she starts to get Space Therapy and begins to heal, and eventually she gets to the point where she can be with or without it unless something really weird is going on.

Courtesy of Kira, she does have a "please don't immediately figure out we're Jedi" wardrobe. Most of the pieces in that collection were chosen by Kira with minimal input from Safi herself, but even though she rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath the whole time about people raised on backwater worlds who wouldn't know haute couture if it hit them in the face, Kira managed to put together a group of outfits that were acceptable to both her and Safi. Space jeans (and who am I kidding, probably jeggings), nice boots, pretty tops, and a special selection of jackets that are made to be worn over a lightsaber shoulder holster make up the majority of it, and although she was uncomfortable with a lot of it at first, she does eventually come to like some of it. She has a particular fondness for a leather jacket that she ends up wearing a lot (until she steals Theron's).

Of course, a huge portion of Safi's life is spent fighting, and so her armor is also a really big part of what she's comfortable in. In game terms, she's wearing the Satele Shan armor set dyed with the Coldweather dye module, and that's basically what her headcanon armor looks like too. Lightly armored leggings (she really can't get enough) and tunic, metal-plated boots, gloves, and bracers, and, of course, her lightsabers. If she's armored up, mask on, that's basically as confident as she ever feels (at least before the aforementioned Space Therapy).

Okay, I've probably gone way beyond the intended bounds of this question so I'm going to wrap up and, honestly, bless you if made it to the end.

#oc asks #swtor oc #swtor asks #swtor fashion #safiya adraiel #jedi knight #fashion asks

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anchanted-one · 3 years

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The One where Arro Met Nine A Tale of Arro and Lana

Rishi

Lana held Arro’s head in her lap, patting his hair gently as the medicine finally began to take effect. She hated using tranquilizers; not only was there always that danger of overdose, there was also the risk of addiction. And her lover had already skirted that danger once before.

But there could be no helping it any longer. The screams in his head had reduced him to a whimpering mess. Ever since the return of his memories as a Sith tool, he had become less functional by the day. He could no longer clear his mind, no longer reach out to the Force, no longer seek even the respite of the trance that Force users could--short term--use as a substitute for sleep.

Instead, he spent his days and nights with a fog around his head, slowing his wits and his movements alike. He endlessly offered whispered apologies to one of the many victims of his own personal demon, Lord Trykhgar.

And of course, he rarely ever slept. On the rare occasions that raw exhaustion put him to sleep, he would wake up screaming.

After six weeks like this, he was in such bad shape that her medical training had insisted on the drug.

He sighed as he finally drifted off to sleep, and Lana could finally feel the tortured tangle of emotions at the back of her own head find rest at last. She brushed his hair with her fingers, then kissed his cheek.

The torment had stopped. No more pain, no more voices, no more hallucinations.

Peace. Blessed peace!

She reveled in the quiet, astonished at how bad it had gotten. The difference between the extremes was stark. On this end, her own mind had also been hampered by his ailments. The link which at first had thrilled her as if it were her firstborn babe now affected her own mental health, and she hadn't realized just how severe it was until now.

It would be so easy to fall victim to the drug's false promise of a fix. To use it more and more regularly so that Arro--and she herself--could find a respite from the voices. But that was a slippery hole.

A very small part of her agreed with Arro when he told her she didn't have to suffer alongside him. She didn't owe him that. No one did. That tiny traitorous part wanted to find a way to reseal her mind and leave Arro to fend for himself.

But the larger part of her could no more excise Arro from her psyche than it could stop breathing. She loved him with a deep passion she had never known. He meant everything to her. Everything.

Come hell or high water, she would stay with him.

And thanks to their bond, she knew that this was exactly how he felt about her. She could feel his love, like a warm infusion of morning sunlight, like dewdrops catching the rays and scattering a colorful rainbow in her heart. Like a music that she could never tire of. Like life itself.

If it had been her in crisis, he would have been as steadfast an ally in her recovery as she was being in his.

She sighed contentedly. It felt so good to be able to trust someone like this. Her life had revolved around secrets, deception. Her best friend had unknowingly abused Lana’s trust on a number of occasions, it just went with the job. Arro was someone who she knew--even without the bond--she could trust.

A kind voice spoke to her, muted and echoing as though coming across a long tunnel. "So he's asleep at last?"

Lana almost howled in shock. She looked around foolishly, but there was no one there.

"I'm over here," The voice said, and a translucent body of soft mist and light formed in the empty space before her. A Force Ghost. She knew that face, had seen it featured prominently in every one of Arro's biographies.

"Jedi Master Orgus Din," she stated.

"Lana Beniko," he answered with a nod. "You've been taking good care of my former Padawan."

Lana shrugged. "He's mine now. I'm not giving him back."

"You look angry."

"Oh, you can tell?" she snarled softly. "Do you see how badly your little revelation is affecting Arro? I'm all for conquering your demons, but in his case we could have made an exception! And the timing couldn't have been poorer! It--"

"Actually, the timing couldn't have been better," Orgus said. "Because for the first time in his life, he has someone nearby who can and will help him through the darkness. No one else can do for him what you are. Not me, not Kira, not Satele, and not even Rana Tao'ven. Only you." Lana swelled up a little at that. "And make no mistake. He has to confront it. And Lord Trykhgar. For He is returning."

Lana jumped. "Trykhgar?"

The ghost's words sounded forced. "The Sith Emperor. He stirs again."

Lana felt the cold grip of dread seize her stomach. She knew He was still out there of course. "How long do we have?"

"I can't answer that one," Orgus admitted. "My perception of time is… Different on his end. What I do know is that Arro will be forced to face Him again. And if the time ever comes for a final epic clash, he will need to defeat this enemy first. He will need to conquer Trykhgar." He made as if to brush Arro’s hair, but his fingers passed through his scalp like a hologram. The air around the virtual point of contact shimmered blue. "Ah, my poor, young friend. If only you could have the quiet life you deserve."

Lana’s outrage completely melted as she studied his expression. "You love him," she said.

"Yes," he answered simply. "Is that so strange?"

She had to consider before saying "No, not as much as I once believed."

All throughout her career she had heard Jedi preach a dispassionate, ascetic way of life. They scoffed at the Sith wherever they faced them, saying that their use of emotions to seek greater power was a brittle route to power. Even moderates like Darths Prowle and Nox had lost patience with Jedi preaching their nonsense.

Arro, she thought, was different. He wasn't afraid to feel, and even less to admit it. He had told her on a number of occasions that he didn't fit in among the Jedi, which had been something she knew from her own days in Intelligence.

But was he unique? Satele Shan--Grandmaster of the Jedi Order herself--had fallen in love. Theron and Jasme were proof of that, not only the fact they existed, but also the care Satele demonstrably but subtly took to look out for them. Surely there were more such Jedi out there?

"Even after I died, I've watched him, you know. I watched Bengel too. I remember how you were there for him when no one else was."

Lana's jaw dropped. She choked on her words, unable to speak. "What do you--" she finally got out.

The ghost smiled. "You know exactly what I mean," he said simply. "I remember Cipher Nine. I remember what you did for him. And I remember that day when you--or she, if you'd prefer--finally chose to meet him, and give him hope. Do you remember?"

She chewed on her lip, hesitating before nodding. She did. Oh maker, but she did.

Ii Juupa Cantina, Tatooine. Some years ago.

It was a pleasant enough evening here in Mos Osnoe, Mercei supposed. The crowd in the Cantina was the affable kind of loud. Drunken singing, loud laughter, the lively music the Bith were playing on their clarinets, the cheers for the Twi’lek dancers’ sensuous performance, and the bell-like sounds of glasses clinking was much friendlier in this town than in many cantinas she’d had the misfortune of visiting lately.

She was coming to love this quaint settlement; one could never have suspected that there was one on Tatooine that wasn’t a haven for criminals, violent or otherwise. People frequenting this place were usually the honest citizen type. At least so far as Tatooine went.

So calm, so peaceful. No blaster fire or bombs or poison darts or daggers or any sort of lethal weapon aimed in her direction. It was perfect!

She did hope that the guest she was expecting chose not to upset that careful peace. She was fairly confident that he wouldn’t: she had been observing him closely for ten months now, and was certain that she already knew him better than he did.

She took a sip of her broth, then took a bite out of her caramelized pork pot pie. She chewed slowly, trying to identify the herbs used in the seasoning. Brown thyme of course, which was grown in the nearby moisture farms. Nutmeg, cinnamon, bayleaf, cloves. And something else… But what was it? She just couldn’t figure it out!

The door opened and a new patron walked in, air blowers coming online to both rid him of the sand on his clothes, as well as to prevent sand from entering the Cantina while the door was open. He wore a light colored poncho covered in the zigzagging motif that was common on the planet. Underneath the cloak, his clothes were the typical, utilitarian workman’s outfit; breathable and loose fitting; perfect for long hours in the Tatooine’s twin desert suns. He carried only a long staff in his gloved hand, with no visible weapons on his belt or boot. It took a trained eye to find the Lightsaber hidden in a holster up the loose sleeve.

The young Jedi Knight, Arro.

He had never seen her before, but his eyes instantly turned and found hers. She smiled and raised her glass slightly. She watched as he casually made his way through the crowd to her, admiring the grace in his step. A master swordsman by training despite his young age, the young Knight had incorporated the agile footwork from the Lightsaber forms into his step, as many swordsmen did.

However, while most walked like dangerous predators, Arro walked like a dancer: friendly, inviting. And while there was nothing overt about it, many eyes nevertheless turned to watch his hips, his legs, his flow. She noticed a regular patron lick her lips hungrily, and understood the sentiment: watching this teenager walk across a room was enough to set hearts racing.

He eventually reached her, and stood beside the empty seat opposite. She gave him a thumbs up, and he sat down at the silent invitation.

“My name is Arro,” he said softly. Close to, he looked half-starved, malnourished. “Of the Jedi Order. But you already knew that. You’ve been watching me for at least five months now, haven’t you?”

“What? Really?” she smiled. Well, by habit there was always a disconcertingly wide smile on her face, carefully arranged to exude maximum confidence while instilling just a hint of unease in the ones who saw her. “A Cipher Agent is far too busy to observe a single target for extended lengths of time. There’s always some plot or other that needs my attention.”

“A Cipher Agent?” he asked, eyes narrowing quizzically.

“We’re ghosts, enigmas, riddles,” she whispered, gesticulating dramatically. “And we live to keep the Empire safe from hostile ghosts, enigmas, and riddles.” She finished the rest of her drink in one go, then signalled to the waitress, catching her eye. “Honni, would you mind getting me a refill?” she called. “Oh, and you can serve that second dish too.”

The Twi’lek woman nodded sourly. She was always a bit sour, but she never messed up an order, and never gave anyone lip unless they were being truly obnoxious and the guard too was busy to intervene. Mercei liked her.

“You can call me ‘Sei’, by the way,” she informed the Jedi Knight, who was staring at her suspiciously.

“Well then, Cipher Agent Sei,” he said. “Why have you been watching me?”

“Maybe I simply like what I see?” she teased lightly. He didn't blush, but he did smile back. A neutral, courteous smile, the sort you saw from politicians and diplomats.

“I’m not that interesting.”

“Really? I suppose it was just my imagination that so many heads turned when you sauntered in.”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

“Oh, so you spotted that already!” she winked. “I am a spy, my young friend. Avoiding straight answers is in the job description. Section One Aurek. C’mon, let’s play around a little! Like you did with Watcher One!”

He bowed his head, uncertain. “That was a field mission,” he said. “This… well I’m not used to a verbal sparring ground.”

“Then maybe you can use me as the starting point,” she smiled sweetly. “I guarantee that this kind of thing will come in handy someday. As handy a skill as saber mastery.”

His smile became a tad uncertain, then he inhaled. His eyes darted behind closed lids as he searched for what to say. Minutes ticked by, and Honni appeared by their side, carrying the covered tray Mercei had requested.

“Why didn’t you run? You could have. I'd never have found you, if you'd a mind to evade me." His eyes widened as Mercei pulled off the lid. "Is that…?"

"Four cheese pasta!" she smiled at him. "Your favorite! And an orange soda. My treat. Dig in! You're looking even thinner in the flesh. You need the extra bites."

Uncertainly he took a bite, eyes widening with pleasure. "This tastes so good!"

"This establishment uses a unique blend of spices in most of their meals," her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. "Oh, maybe you can identify them for me?"

"Can't think," he said, eagerly taking a second bite. "Can't tell. All I can say is that this just tastes so good!"

She deflated slightly. Well, growing up on a farm world didn't automatically make one an expert in identifying herbs, apparently.

"And you're not worried its poisoned?"

"No," he said, his voice amused. “Good at spotting that kind of threats.”

“Yeah, the Force does throw a wrench in our plans every once in a while,” she acknowledged glumly. “Every time I have to fight one it’s so kriffing I all but run screaming!”

“Liar,” he accused, though he was smiling again. “You’ve beaten Force users before.”

“A couple of times,” she admitted. “It’d be so much easier if I had a Lightsaber.”

He searched her face. “The Lightsaber is just window dressing. A distraction from our true advantage.”

“The Force again?” she asked, wrinkling her nose, allowing her smile to wry.

“Honestly? The Force is all-powerful and all, but few can use it to its full potential. Power, yes, but also imagination. I’d say the best thing anyone can bring to the table is a sharp mind.”

“That’s a surprise!” she laughed. “Isn’t that the sort of thing that can get you kicked out?”

“I don’t know what can get us kicked out,” he said, eyes clouding.

“Maybe you should do what Kira proposed,” she suggested. “Install a buzzer on Master Shan’s seat.” He gave her a very guarded look that quickly melted back into amusement. They'd get along just fine, Mercei thought.

“You’ve done quite a thorough job, haven’t you?”

“You certainly didn’t make it easy,” she tutted. “Like you said, you’re not very interesting. I had to work to keep my attention!” She took on a dramatic pose of exaggerated sorrow, and he chuckled again.

But he went quiet for a bit after that, and she was content letting him. For the talk of expulsion had got him thinking, Mercei suspected, about his loss of control during the fight with Angral. Well, that was an understatement. He had taken hold of his self control and crushed it like a bug. He had chosen to become vengeance incarnate, utterly devastating Angral and his retinue: Mercei had managed to arrive in time to see that.

She watched him enjoy his meal with a small sense of satisfaction. She had been watching this boy on the Emperor's own orders, and had felt pity for the young man. He had been forced to shoulder burdens he was not quite ready for, and it had broken him. She had seen his attempt to continue living after what he had witnessed--the death of a world, his homeworld--and was reminded that this could have been her. If she had been a hair slower, Jadus would have gotten the launch codes for his Eradicators from his puppet. If she'd had just a little less nerve she may have gone ahead with Watcher Two's desperate plan to allow Jadus a small victory just to earn some breathing room. And she'd have been responsible for millions of deaths across the Empire. Watching him suffer had often made her think This could have been me.

She spent days watching as he screamed out at night, begging for his ghosts to forgive him. Or fainting from the severity of his panic attacks. Or the steadily decreasing amounts of food he ate each day. The pain in his eyes when he thought no one was looking.

She had actually intervened in a few of his attempts to end his own life. Why though? He was the enemy. A Jedi at that. And broken people were a credit a dozen these days--some of them even broken by her own blood-soaked hand. So why was she so concerned for his well-being in particular?

… Because the Emperor himself is interested in this one, she thought. That alone makes him… Special.

No that wasn't completely true.

She sighed. Maybe it was time to talk business.

"You've gotten Imperial Intelligence's interest, boy. I know there was no helping it. No one else was available to meet that threat. But a sixteen year-old defeating one of the Empire's most prominent Darths? Foiling a plot seven years in the making? Sniffing out one of our best spies? Anyone would see that you pose a potential threat."

"Why send a Cipher though?" he frowned. "Aren't you a valuable, limited resource?"

Clever boy. She almost wished she could tell him the truth.

"You can see then, just how dangerous a threat we fear you are? And we weren't wholly unjustified. You were admittedly distracted before your rehabilitation, but afterwards you always knew I was looking. The first few times I saw you turn glare at me right through my scope from two miles away, I thought I was done for!"

"I could sense your eyes," he admitted. "But knew you weren't an immediate danger."

"Very lucky for me," she nodded. "If I'd been ordered to assassinate you, I'm sure you would have chased me down. Especially on Coruscant. But you always let me go. Until today."

"Yes," he agreed. "Today I did seek you out. But you didn’t run. If you had, I'd never have found you."

"Luckily for me, I was certain that you wouldn't kill me. Or even hinder me. We're not at war after all, and I wasn't doing anything wrong."

"But you still…"

"Yes," she sighed. "My mission is over. I've been recalled to Dromund Kaas. I leave tomorrow. Why did I stay? I guess I've grown a bit fond of you." She was surprised to hear herself admit it. "I watched you go through it all, you know. The PTSD, the panic attacks." She pursed her lips. "That suicide attempt."

He gasped. "You were the one who cut me down! You were the one who called TeeSeven!"

"Indeed. I don't know why though. I guess it's like I said. I grew fond of you, and didn't want to watch you end your life while I could stop it. I guess I'm human after all." She sniffed. "There, I said it. But please can you not tell anyone what a softie I am?"

His mouth was hanging open. He closed it with effort. "After you saved my life? That is the least I can do to repay you. Please, can I do anything else? I really am so grateful…"

She wondered if she should plant a seed, to get him to consider defecting. The way she'd gotten Havoc Squad. But looking at his honest, open face, she found she couldn't do it.

Damn it, you really have grown too fond of him! Lucky for her she wasn't as much older than him as she pretended. She could admit her attraction to him--at least to herself--without feeling revulsion. She sighed. At least she could have his respect. She found herself appreciating having that consolation prize.

"My job," she said instead. "It twists us up. Makes us cold, cynical, calculating. Ruthless..." Voicing that thought aloud made her pause. Even through Korriban she'd maintained her code of ethics, hammered into her by her father since her childhood. To admit that she might end up losing them anyway… She cleared her throat. "I might have to do some terrible things to protect my people. And that's if… if I even live that long. I'd appreciate it if there was someone out there who remembered that I was a person. Please… no matter what becomes of me, can you promise to remember me as a woman who didn't turn away, someone who could even feel compelled to help an enemy? Someone with compassion? Can you do that for me?"

His eyes were round as saucers, filled with sorrow. But he nodded. He didn't even hesitate. "I swear," he said. "I'll never forget what you did for me."

"Thank you," she smiled. Her throat felt a bit tight. What was wrong with her? "I have to go now. Enjoy your meal. Maybe I'll see you again someday?" There really was little more she wished to say. She had to run, she realised. Before her admission of her humanity took root, and caused her to question her choices.

"I'm sure we will," he said. He smiled again, hesitant, tremulous. "I Sense that we will be working together someday."

She waved and walked away. Yes, she could Sense that too… that was a smaller part of why she'd saved him, though of course she could never admit it. Never in a million years.

Rishi. Modern day.

Lana was startled back into the present by the Ghost's gentle voice. "Did you know he went on that mission because I reached out to him?"

"He told me that," she confirmed. "He told me that the Council took as proof that he needed to be on Braga's mission…"

"Unavoidable side effect," Orgus shook his head. "No, I told him to go on that mission, so that he'd meet you." He paused as the words sank in. Lana's eyes opened wide.

"Oh my…" She whispered. "Are you telling me…?"

"If he'd stayed on Tython, you'd have been called away before you could meet. Tatooine though. Legitimate Jedi business. Neutral planet, sparsely populated, meaning that you might consider not running. I thought it would be a huge benefit to both of you, if you were to meet."

"But Rana Tao'Ven…"

"I could sense even then, that she wouldn't live too much longer," he admitted. "Besides this wasn't just about him, you know. After you saved his life, got him the help he needed… I grew to deeply admire you. To seek to repay your kindness. I wanted your paths to cross for your benefit as much as his own. Everything else?" he grimaced. "Well, to me, Braga's mission was of less importance. Way less. Especially since I could already sense that it was going to fail, and that Arro would suffer."

Lana was dumbstruck. She just… Couldn't even think.

"I am not that woman anymore," she managed at last.

"Perhaps you are even better," he countered.

"I… I!" she stammered.

Arro stirred in her arms. Comforted her a wave of Calm sailing across their Link. She was startled to know that he could sense her distress even knocked out like this. I love you, his voice whispered in her head. In her soul.

"You don't have to say anything," The ghost said gently.

"Maybe not to you… But I think I want to tell him about that first meeting. That I was… Nine."

#swtor #star wars #lana beniko #Hero of Tython #Jedi Knight #Arro

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resol-nare · 5 years

Text

Character Profile

Tagged by the muses, bc yeah.

Zenatalla Umbarti!

Bold what applies best to your muse, italicize if it sometimes applies. Feel free to add options onto any section if you feel something is missing!

-CLOTHING MAKES THE WOMAN-

Do their bra and panties match consistently?

Yes | No | Not applicable (My personal headcanon is that color is irrelevant to the Miraluka people, and since the Force probably doesn’t specify ‘this is red, wear it!’, Zenatalla doesn’t know and doesn’t really care.)

Do they wash their makeup off before going to bed?

Yes | No | Sometimes | Doesn’t wear makeup (Zenatalla doesn’t wear it much, but sometimes just really wants to before going for a night out with the crew. She often forgets she wears it at all, so forgets about it until morning when Nadia sees what a mess she is and reminds her.)

Do they wear socks?

Yes | No | Sometimes (Her footwear mainly consists of boots, so socks are a must-have.)

What do they usually wear to bed?

Their clothes are usually…

Stained | Raggedy | Like new | Well worn | Depends (She enjoys more well-worn clothes, because they’re more comfortable. She will occasionally spend extra on some newer ones, though.)

-FINANCES? LET’S SEE-

How do they handle their bills?

Sets aside bill money each check | Pays them right away | Pays them last minute | They’re frequently overdue | Paying? Bills? What a concept. (She has to be constantly reminded, or they just won’t get paid. The Jedi Council, either out of amusement or annoyance, have an automated reminder sent to her holocom every time they’re due.)

Most likely to pay with?

Raw currency | Check/paper trail | Debit | Credit (She keeps credits with her all the time, but prefers to use credit transfers.)

What are they most likely to buy?

-AN APPLE A DAY-

How often do they get exercise?

Do they drink?

Always | Often | Somewhat | On rare occasions | Never (Another Miraluka headcanon: alcohol messes with Force vision if drank in excess. Probably not a surprise. Zenatalla is very careful. Someone has to drive Birron back to the ship, after all.)

Do they do drugs of any kind?

Yes | Sometimes | No

Do they smoke?

Yes | Sometimes | No

What ailments do they have?

-EDUCATION MATTERS-

What education have they reached?

Do they frequently learn new skills?

Yes | On occasion | Only as needed | Not usually (Any opportunity to learn, she’ll take it.)

How do they learn best?

Tagging: YOU! unlessyoudon’twantto.

#swtor #oc: zenatalla umbarti #miraluka

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greyias · 6 years

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3. “I’m not jealous.”

Okay, I still feel like this is cheating, but YOLO. Here’s another snippet from the Shadow of Revan Fic O’ Doom, ironically, the scene right before the last one I posted from this monsterfic.

The painkiller the droid had hit Theron with while he had been distracted took the edge off his various aches so that he was able to slip into a dreamless rest for a few hours. He woke groggy, still feeling the vestiges of the drugs in his system. When he was out in the field, he preferred the method Master Zho had taught him back in his youth to drugs. It pushed the pain to the back of his mind while leaving him aware enough of his surroundings to focus. The mission may have been over, but the sheer number of Imperial soldiers huddled under tents of their basecamp still set his nerves on edge. There might technically have been a truce within the bounds of this camp, but with their objective complete, it wasn’t going to last much longer.

Not that many of them seemed to notice. Those who weren’t still recovering from the previous day’s battle were huddled together under tents. He caught a few cross-faction groups bunched together conspiratorially and pouring something from flasks into their mugs that he was fairly certain was not caf, if their raucous laughter was any indication. After the past several months, Theron couldn’t exactly blame them. Dealing with the Order of Revan had a strange way of forging friendships that didn’t necessarily stop once the fighting did.

The torrential rain had eased back into a drizzle sometime during the pre-dawn hours, but the overnight soaking turned the packed dirt into a muddy mess. Most people seemed content to stay under the cover of the durasilk stretched out to form shelters. A tarp had been stretched out over the conference table over near the operations center of the camp, protecting the equipment from the harsh weather, but the raised platform was empty of personnel. The only ones out in the mud seemed to be those unlucky few who had picked up guard duty.

Theron paused at the edge of the durasilk awning he was under, two towheaded women catching his eye across the way. Lana’s brighter shock of hair stood out against the gray mists, slightly frizzled due to the humid air, contrasting with the more muted tones of her companion. Despite the earliness of the hour and the completion of their objective, they had both dressed in their armor and had lightsabers strapped on. They were the very image of readiness and practicality. He wondered if it was a shared love of pragmatism that had brought the small smile to the Jedi’s face, or whether it was just something Lana had said.

A derisive snort caught his attention, and Theron looked over to see Doc lounging on a supply crate he had claimed as a temporary roost. The medic nursed a small mug, and Theron briefly wondered if he had partaken in the flasks that were going around camp. While he didn’t know the man well, it didn’t seem completely out of character.

“You’re in a good mood,” Theron grumbled.

“What’s not to be in a good mood about? We beat the bad guy, we made some new friends, and everyone’s having a lovely time.”

Theron was pretty sure his theory about the flask was correct. “Some of us more than others.”

“You must be great at parties.”

“When I have to be.” He could be reasonably cheery and charming if he wanted to be—it just tended to usually happen as part of a larger assignment.

Doc snorted again before taking a long sip off his mug. “Have you ever thought about taking that stand-up routine on the galactic circuit? If you bring Rusk along, you guys could make a killing.”

Seeing as how Theron had heard maybe three or four sentences total from the Chagrian in the entirety that he’d known him, that was unlikely. “Only if he opened fire on the crowd.”

Doc choked on on his sip of not-caf, sputtering as he tried to keep from aspirating. Theron just leaned against one of the poles holding up the durasilk overhang and watched the medic’s struggles with nothing more than a raised brow. After a few moments of coughing, Doc finally managed to regain his composure.

“See what I mean?” he said hoarsely. “Your jokes are deadly.”

“Who said I was joking?”

Doc just shook his head, and returned to nursing his mug, leaving Theron to look back across the camp at the unusual pair that had first grabbed his attention. Lana was standing just a little too close to the Jedi than called for as temporary allies. Heck, even between friends. He pursed his lips, trying to squelch the angry bubbling in his gut.

“That’s not a good look on you,” Doc pointed out casually.

Theron slid his glare from Lana over to the medic. It was really too early for him to have to deal with this sort of thing. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“And I thought spies were better liars.”

“I can tell a few more ‘jokes’ if you’d prefer. See if that mug can finish you off.”

“You’re just a bright ray of sunshine this morning, aren’t you?” Doc leveled him with a look.

“I was just standing here.”

“Yeah, and if you glared any harder you’d burn a hole through Lana’s cloak.”

“After what happened on Rishi, she’s not my favorite person,” Theron grumbled.

“Uh huh, and did anyone ever tell you that green wasn’t your color?” Doc mused.

“I’m not jealous,” he said flatly. “I just don’t trust her.”

“Mmhmm.” Doc took another long pull off his mug. “Just in general, or is that distrust a little more centered on say, her intentions towards a certain Jedi?”

“I’m just saying from recent experience, it doesn’t pay to get too cozy with a Sith.”

“Some might say the same about the SIS.”

“They might,” Theron ground out. “What of it?”

“I already said my piece earlier,” Doc reminded him, “but can I give you a little friendly advice?”

“Can I stop you?”

Doc shrugged, but forged on anyway. “Don’t be a sore winner.”

Theron bristled at the insinuation. “This isn’t some sort of game where someone comes out with a prize at the end.”

“Guess it depends on what kind of game you’re used to playing.” Doc muttered darkly as he stared into his mug.

Theron thought back to their conversation on Rishi, and Doc’s hints at a failed attempt to strike up a more personal relationship with his current boss. Or perhaps, just a completely physical one. He’d only briefly read Kimble’s file when he was digging into the different crews that could be called on for the Korriban mission, but he’d seen the long list of known female associates and read between the lines.

But the whole concept of a winner and loser when it came to someone else’s affections didn’t sit right with Theron. It made a sport out of some very complicated, muddy feelings that he really didn’t want to look at too closely in the first place.

“I’m not the fun and games type,” he finally said.

“That I’ll believe in a heartbeat.” Doc looked up from his mug, and stared Theron straight in the eye. “Look, I’m not saying that you and Lana need to hug it out, but just remember there’s a third person involved here. I’m pretty sure she hasn’t done anything to earn that glare or distrust.”

Theron crossed his arms. “You might have a point there.”

“Of course I do,” Doc said brightly. “I’m amazing.”

He eyed the mug. “That’s not filled with caf, is it?”

“It’s not filled at all,” the medic grinned, then rose to his feet and stretched. “I’m going to get a refill. Want some?”

“Is there actual caf wherever you’re heading?”

“You’ll have to go visit the wet blankets on the other side of the camp for that.”

“Then that will be a pass,” Theron said.

“Your loss.”

#swtor fanfiction #theron shan x jedi knight #theron shan #archiban frodrick kimble #archiban 'doc' kimble #Jedi Knight/Hero of Tython #prompts for days #otp: adorkable #SoR Fic o Doom #i think one of my 2018 creative goals is to find a way to post this fragmented monster in a way that makes sense #Anonymous #thank you for the prompt!#swtor #fanfic #greyfic

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onwardintolight · 7 years

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Leia: Princess of Alderaan Revelations

Here are a few things I learned/confirmed from my first read-through of Claudia Gray’s fantastic new book. I’ll probably add to this after I do a second read-through (which will happen pretty much immediately). These are more like reference points for fic writers (particularly for those of us who write Leia, Bail and Breha, or Alderaan-related fic in general), not plot points, but regardless, if you don’t want any spoilers before you read, stop now.

- Leia had a happy childhood in a tight-knit family. Her parents were kind and loving and always there for her growing up. She didn’t have any real friends, though, due to the isolating effects of her royal position, until the events of this book.

- Breha is freaking awesome. (Bail is too, but we already knew that.) Breha gets a lot more fleshed out in this book, and again, she’s freaking awesome as well as an absolute badass. Leia gets a lot of her spirit from her.

- Bail and Breha have a very strong relationship and are marriage #Goals (despite the tension in the book, which I’ll give more detail on in a bit).

- Breha absolutely knows Leia is Padmé’s daughter, and likely also that her father was Anakin, though the latter isn’t made explicit.

- Leia has a nanny/personal assistant droid named TooVee who lectured her on protocol, particularly when it comes to proper appearances, and who dresses her and does her elaborate hairstyles when she’s at home.

- Once when Leia was a toddler, she escaped after bathtime and ran straight into the formal dining hall during a diplomatic dinner, naked. 😂

- The Palace at Aldera sounds absolutely magical. A mix of old and new; some parts being centuries old with stained glass and intricately carved rock. There’s a royal library for the public, but there’s also a library that’s basically the Organa family’s living room — where they go to talk and enjoy each other’s company in a private place. The library has many shelves of holocubes but also several shelves of actual ancient books. There’s a large, round fireplace in the center that they like to gather around.

- We see Leia wearing many colors besides white in this book. There’s nothing mentioned that makes wearing white seem like a societal expectation or a rule for royalty. Perhaps her wearing lots of white later on is just a personal preference, maybe even one that she finds symbolic in some way. It is hinted that wearing muted colors such as silver is appropriate for mourning, but she wears white at other times, too, so there’s not a concrete correlation.

- There’s a lot of tension among Bail, Breha and Leia in this book as they’re trying to figure out how to be a part of the Rebellion and simultaneously protect their planet and each other, and working through how much they’re willing to risk. (The tension gets resolved by the end of the book, though, and they are as close as ever).

- Bail has a particularly hard time with the idea of Leia coming on board. Contrary to popular assumption, it’s Breha who first decides to let Leia play a part in the Rebellion.

- Breha had an accident when she was Leia’s age that nearly killed her. Her heart and lungs were removed and replaced by pulmonodes, which do the jobs of those organs for her. They have a soft glow to them. She chose not to cover them up with synthflesh, to remind herself that she lived and that she “cannot be so easily stopped.”

- Among the many things Leia did growing up: she studied dance (cue me screeching with joy — as a dancer myself, this has always been one of my headcanons), in part because Bail loved dancing, and learned how to grow orchids like her mother.

- During the course of the book, she takes a pathfinding class (wilderness survival), learns skyfaring, a Gatalentan meditative practice that’s basically aerial silks, and discovers she has a knack for sharpshooting.

- Leia did NOT like bookkeeping/accounting, a skill her mother has.

- At the time this book is set, around the time she turns sixteen, Leia is a member of the Apprentice Legislature, basically practice for being in the Senate.

- One of her friends from the Apprentice Legislature is Amilyn Holdo, who we’ll see in The Last Jedi. She is basically the Star Wars equivalent of Luna Lovegood.

- Leia really loves thunderstorms.

- Leia is deeply emotional, emotionally intelligent, and empathetic.

- Even before the destruction of Alderaan, Leia struggles with feelings of guilt in this book, as well as grief. She really has a hard time dealing with it, and tends to get depressed.

- Leia has her first relationship in this book — and first kiss — with an Alderaanian boy named Kier Domadi, an aspiring historian who is, like all the people in her pathfinding class, a fellow member of the Apprentice Legislature.

- Taking down a woman’s braids is a “profoundly intimate act” in Alderaanian culture. (This is as far as we see Leia and Kier going.)

- For all those who are worried, no, Kier is not a Bria-equivalent. Their relationship is very much a teenage one, full of romantic feelings and some innocent exploration but not much depth. It does have a big impact on her, though, due to some of the events that happen in the book, helping to shape her into who she is by the time of the OT. She ends up promising to herself never to have a relationship again until after the struggle against the Empire is won.

- And on a completely random note: stormtroopers are not conscripted, thanks to a law that Bail Organa had a part in drafting.

Again, I’ll add more if I come across anything else worth noting here when I reread the book. Also, if anyone wants more spoilers or has any questions about my thoughts about the book, I’d be happy to oblige! :)

#Leia Princess of Alderaan #Claudia Gray #spoilers #Leia Organa #Bail Organa #Breha Organa #Bail x Breha #Alderaan #Amilyn Holdo #Star Wars #SW books #thoughts #TLJ

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bluesyemre · 6 years

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Young adult architecture – Public libraries offer teenagers space where no one tells them to sit up straight or be quiet

In 1978, South Kingston High librarian Linda Wood decided to remake a room at the Rhode Island school into something she called the Un-Commons: a furniture-less room with cushions on the floor, album covers mounted on the walls, 10 headphone jacks, and stacks of paperbacks, from science fiction and fantasy to mystery and romance.

Teens with a free period could choose a record, sign out headphones, and just chill out. The books didn’t even require a sign-out slip.

“The magic happens because there is hardly a teenager alive who isn’t ‘into’ music,” wrote Wood in the Wilson Library Bulletin. “While their parents shake their heads in disbelief, teenagers manage to read, study, write research papers, and do calculus, all to the beat of rock.”

Forty years later, Wood’s son Dan would have his chance to make an Un-Commons: a teen corner, tucked behind a bookshelf, at the back of the Kew Gardens Hills Library, in Queens, designed by his firm, WORKac, and opened in 2017. “The teen space was one of the reasons why they wanted to expand the library; it was the only new program they were adding,” he says.

WORKac was designing the Children’s Museum of the Arts in Manhattan at the same time, where a primary goal was separation of teens and younger kids. In Kew Gardens, despite the library’s small, roughly square footprint, the kids and teens were assigned opposite corners. The angular roof pops up by the kid area, giving them a view out at their eye level and an array of citrus-colored furniture.

In the teen corner, the roof slopes down, the colors are muted: “The teens have almost no access to light; it is a very dramatic space where the roof comes down to the ground,” says Amale Andraos, Wood’s partner and dean of the Columbia Graduate School of Architecture, Planning and Preservation.

“We just said confidently, ‘Teens are going to like this space,’” says Wood. “The day after the library opened, there was a very goth-looking teen sitting in the corner where there was no light, looking as happy as a goth teen can look.”

Today, it is hard to find a public library that isn’t investing in teens or, in librarian parlance, young adults. New central libraries in Austin, Texas; Billings, Montana; and Dayton, Ohio(among many more)—not to mention the revamped Mid-Manhattan Branch of the New York Public Library and the under-construction Hunters Point Community library on the Queens waterfront—make space for young adults a priority.

Like the Un-Commons, these spaces feature slouchy, floor-oriented furnishings, the latest in technology, and shelves of books kids like: science fiction, fantasy, mystery, graphic novels, movies, and college prep. Why? Kids have playgrounds, adults have Starbucks, but where else can teenagers meet indoors, without charge, and do whatever: play video games, do homework, craft, chat? Linda Wood’s innovation aside, it wasn’t until the 1990s that public libraries realized their most loyal patrons were teens—and started giving them room to act like teens.

The first young adult library space opened at the Los Angeles Public Library in 1994. Local teens named it Teen’Scape and the name was the most fashion-forward thing about it.

“I was a young adult librarian in what was considered a gangland territory branch during the LA riots,” says Anthony Bernier, who went on to get a doctorate and is now a professor in the School of Information at San Jose State University, as well as a consultant on library design.

“I was appalled at the way the media was blaming young people, and I started to think about the role the library had in dealing with young people in a real way, as opposed to institutional responses.”

Bernier got reassigned to the recently renovated main library, and with colleague Ann Hoffman was able to set up an area for teens: “no redesign, no furniture, no permanent status, no directional signage, or even a place in the building directory,” he later wrote in VOYA magazine.

The experiment proved so successful that the Teen’Scape grew up: In 2000, the LAPL opened a 3,780-square-foot, purpose-built teen zone, right in the middle of the 1926 Central Library. Now there is a “Cyber Zone,” round tables with circles of computers, and enclosing banquettes, entered under a scalloped teal awning. The “Living Room” had a 50-inch plasma screen television, sofas, and movable furniture. A self-checkout system allowed the teens to avoid the adult lines downstairs, while life-size cutouts of Buffy (the vampire slayer) and Yoda (the Jedi master) tried to make reading heroic.

“The catchphrase I developed a long time ago is that there is far more design energy and space given to bathrooms in libraries than there is to teenagers,” says Bernier. “Even after 15 years, spatial inequality remains.” Too often, he says, teenagers are left out of the design process—or adults think that labels alone make an area YA.

Bernier also introduced me to the concept of “postural tyranny.” As he and Mike Males wrote in a 2014 article for Public Libraries, “When children tilt back in chairs they are frequently reprimanded and sometimes disciplined. When two teens share a library chair they may receive a negative reaction from a librarian,” but such policing of posture is counterproductive and may indeed go against nature.

Young adults head to the library for social interaction. “One butt to a chair” policies—and the straight-backed chairs that go with them—work against collaboration, conversation, and hanging out.

Once I learned the phrase, I saw teens subverting furniture everywhere. Lying flat on a plus-shaped ottoman at the Hamilton Grange library, while carrying on a conversation with two friends straddling an L-shaped bench. Lying on the floor in a middle school hallway, heads together, completing a drawing. Rearranging chairs into a semi-circle around the cardboard trifold of a science project. Their backpacks were on the chairs, most of them cross-legged on the floor. My joints hurt just looking at them, but their limbs were relaxed, their focus on each other.

Furniture has become the great differentiator of teen spaces: Children get toy corners and pint-sized tables and chairs. Adults get study tables and high-backed seating. Teens get a little bit of everything. Sometimes they even get to choose it.

The game-changing library for designers was Will Bruder Architects’s Burton Barr Central Library in Phoenix. When it opened in 1995, the five-story, 280,000-square-foot library was a striking addition to the city’s skyline, with sail-like sunshades stretching up its glazed sides, an airy reading room up top, a desert garden at its foot, and the 7,000-square-foot, purpose-built Teen Center in the middle.

Once I learned the phrase “postural tyranny,” I saw teens subverting furniture everywhere.

“If you are 12 going on 13, or 17 going on 18, the last place you want to be is at the edge of the children’s section,” says Bruder. When YA books are clustered at the edge of the kid zone, he argues, designers alienate “teens from the library. We want to locate the teens as far from the kids as possible. At Central, or Billings, on their way to find their cool space on the edge, they see the whole adult library.”

Bruder’s team and the librarians held five workshops to gather input on which books, which computers, and which periodicals were needed. Central’s teen space had a dance floor, with music available on request. It had the only vending machines in the library. It had stainless steel tables that were both indestructible and, at five feet, ideal for collaboration. Other pieces of furniture were chosen by the teens themselves.

“We came to them with colors and gave them a talk about color theory, and then we got a whole bunch of samples of modern design furniture classics,” he says, including the ultrasuede Togo couches I’ve long wanted for my own home. “Those are really comfortable, you sit on them and you never want to get up. That shows them not just the intellectual, but the fun part of it.”

Bruder has recently been back in Phoenix: his firm just completed a restoration of the library after��a devastating interior flood in July 2017. When the building reopens in June, the biggest change will be the insertion of a makerspace and two glazed computer study rooms. A big blue ellipse of Marmoleum will serve as a central spot for potentially messy craft activities for all ages. But the teen space is staying put.

After a successful $187 million bond issued in 2012, the Dayton Metro Library has been upgrading branches across the Ohio city, with a design team led by Group 4 and with LWC Inc. as the local architect of record.

“When we started our survey of our existing libraries after the bond issue passed, most of them were 50 to 75 years old,” says Jayne Klose, community engagement manager for the DML. “At that point, people designed libraries for adults and kids. We had been carving out corners, putting bean bags in there, adding game tables.”

The design steering committee included a teen librarian, and she worked to engage teens across the branches in the design process, having them submit their own drawings, and creating word clouds with different groups. “G4 uses a lot of dot voting,” Klose says, where people place colored dots on photos of spaces and furniture to indicate their preference—and the teens did that too.

“The teen specialist summed it up: comfy chairs, gaming, being able to eat food.” So, everything you are told not to do? “Exactly, exactly.”

David Schnee, a principal at G4, considers Bernier a mentor, and they have worked together on a number of projects. “In Dayton we basically did a complete gut and expansion of a 1960s building” for the main downtown branch. “At the center is this beautiful valley and bridge-inspired atrium, with large stairs, so you are drawn up to the second floor. That’s where you encounter the teens. There’s a media lab, tutoring, and group study spaces of their own. Teens in flowing space that’s close and central is one of our themes.”

Schnee says G4 often puts children and teen spaces close together, because, in projects like the Oakland 81st Avenue Library, they found sibling groups would visit the library together, and older and younger kids did not want to be too far apart. Through planning workshops with young adults, “often administrators and direct users learn tremendous amounts, not just about how creative they are, but how serious they are.” He also likes to let the teens test the furniture, either at the showroom or by bringing samples to meetings.

But alongside that list of teen wishes, the architects and librarians have been able to customize the individual branches. One located right in front of a high school has become a de facto afterschool lounge, with five group study rooms that are in constant use. Another, near a high population of homeschoolers, has a small conference room adjacent to the children’s area for daytime use by homeschool co-ops.

“In the Troutwood branch we are designing right now, it is an inner-ring suburban branch, and the school is rated the third-worst in the state of Ohio,” says Klose. “They see the library as an important partner in the effort to turn that around.”

The next group on the design horizon: tweens. In a town near Boise, the youth services librarian created a tween advisory board and let the children, ages approximately 9 to 12, repurpose a children’s program room after school for gaming, crafts, and reading.

“They put up a sandwich board in front of the library that says, The in-beTween Is Open!” says Gretchen Caserotti, director of the Meridian (Idaho) Library District. “It is all pop-up, but we let them choose the furniture, and the kids will work out what events and activities to have. What an opportunity to harness these kids; they are choosing to be in the library!”

It’s a Monday afternoon, school is out, and the top floor of the Hamilton Grange library on East 145th Street is buzzing. Remodeled by Rice+Lipka Architects in 2011, the 4,400-square-foot room is Manhattan’s largest teen space, designed to serve the neighborhoods of Harlem, Washington Heights, and Hamilton Heights, where 30 percent of residents are under 19. (Kids have their own floor, one staircase below.)

At one end, three young men have colonized the blond-wood sittable steps, which would not look out of place in a tech company’s office, and are playing a street-fighting game on a laptop. At the other, a clear plastic cylinder, nicknamed “the Bubble,” holds a variety of multi-colored poufs, empty and awaiting a scheduled 5 p.m. video game session.

On desktop computers, four players are gaming; one is doing his math homework. Young adult librarian Katrina Ortega walks around the room, gathering participants for a 4 p.m. program called Mystical Mandalas. By the end of the afternoon, there will be up to 35 kids, from different schools all over the city, cycling in and out of the room.

I’m expecting some chanting, or perhaps fun with beads or paint, but the program turns out to be more like low-key coloring. Gary DeVirgilio, from the arts-in-education organization Community-Word Project, shows the eight teenagers gathered at the central table online and offline pictures of mandalas. And then they are off, quietly gathering rolls of tape to trace circles, blending pastels with their fingertips, and joshing each other.

“Teens come in to use the space just because it is a free space,” says Ortega. “They aren’t obligated to do anything,” but she tries to incentivize partaking in programs like the mandala-making, Minecraft, duct-tape crafts, and so on, by offering free snacks, the opportunity to work off library fines, and community service credits. “It can be like pulling teeth to get teens to participate.”

But that’s just this branch: The NYPL has 70 different teen spaces, overseen by Caitlyn Colman-McGraw, manager of youth education and engagement. The design of those spaces is as varied as the programming; there’s no one size fits all. She’s wearing a shirt printed with tiny books, and rattles off a long list of programs designed to serve the different needs of teens across the city.

The modest teen zone on the lowest floor of the 53rd Street Branch, designed by TEN Arquitectos, has already been rearranged since it opened, at teens’ request, into long “Starbucks-style” tables between a couple of structural columns. Posters made by the staff indicate the position of outlets with emoji. Though hidden from adult view, central Manhattan hosts a number of high schools, and for students who may hail from the Bronx, Brooklyn, and Staten Island, the library is a convening spot.

Many of them focus on LGBT youth, with anti-bullying programs, talks by bestselling YA authors, and the annual Anti-Prom, which kicks off with a fashion show by students of the High School of Fashion Industries, then moves to dancing, gaming, and the crowning of royalty—“there’s no king and queen, it’s gender neutral,” says Colman-McGraw. This year’s Anti-Prom (theme: Under the Sea) will be held on Friday, June 8, in Astor Hall at the Stephen A. Schwarzman Building, and it’s all free.

The Mid-Manhattan branch, at 41st Street and Fifth Avenue, serves a number of homeless teenagers, who may be living at nearby shelters. Their teen space is open from 10 a.m. to closing time, because patrons may be pursuing their GEDs, or working, rather than being in school during the day. An Adulting 101 class teaches laundry skills, how to sew on a button, how to fill out a deposit slip. A recent Wired Wednesday tech program covered how to make a GIF.

“Two of our most frequent patrons have been homeless for some time now,” says Ricci Yuhico, head of teen programming at Mid-Manhattan.

“They’ve even started a program: Stop the Barcode—a self-care support group for teens. They produce the entire program from start to finish, every Friday. All we do here on our end is purchase supplies for their program (journals for the positive writing prompts and light snacks!).” It had to be explained to me that “barcode” was a euphemism for cutting; teen space at the library provides them with a time and location they can control, and be, themselves.

In the new design, children and teens will both have space downstairs off Fifth Avenue. Parents with strollers can go straight back to the elevators, while teens can flow downstairs.

“One time one of the kids said to me, ‘The library is the only place we are allowed to be, and just be,’” says Yuhico. “Not being watched over, not being lectured, not being kicked out because they didn’t order anything. That leads into them realizing there is a wealth of resources here. No matter what, we want to make sure we provide the services they need and they want.”

https://www.curbed.com/2018/5/24/17389648/library-architecture-teens-public-space

How #PublicLibraries offer teens space to be themselves Young adult architecture - Public libraries offer teenagers space where no one tells them to sit up straight or be quiet…

#halk kütüphaneleri #kütüphane mobilyaları #library furniture #public libraries

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