#the flaws of a few within the community should not determine how you feel about them as an entirety | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ectonurites · 3 years

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hey! how knowledgeable are you on stephanie brown? because i got in a bit of an argument with a dc fan on reddit who claims she's all these awful things, but im still relatively new to steph and i want to see what was true and what wasn't. link to screenie right here: https://ibb.co/vh6CYCJ

these may be matters of opinion, but even then, i'd like to know your take. i haven't read her firsthand often enough and i trust your judgement over this random redditor who seems to have some sort of blonde-woman related trauma left untapped.

I'm not necessarily the most knowledgable on her in the world, but I do know a decent amount because she's one of my absolute faves and I love her

But ohhhh boy that screenshot is a lot.

I will say that several of the things this person brings up are based in canon but are taken in the worst faith and framed in the way that makes her look as bad as possible, if that makes sense? It’s ripping things away from any context, because there's a very clear bias against her here.

I'll go through it point by point under the cut

First of all though before digging into this, I want to make it clear she was a 15 year old for the majority of the things this person is talking about. Like just pause for a second and remember she’s a 15 year old victim of abuse. That is something that I think factors into a lot of her behavior! Anyways, I kinda while doing this got into a ranty 'talking at you' format in response to the person who wrote all that, so don't take any of this as me yelling at you who asked the question/you anyone reading this.

"She always acted entitled" - Saying Steph is entitled is absolutely ridiculous to me. Stephanie grew up with a very unstable childhood due to her dad frequently being in prison and her mom dealing with a drug addiction, living in a lower class part of the city. Tim is entitled. I don’t mean that as like a bad thing about him, but he is based on his living situation, she is not. She has wanted life to be better for herself and her mom, and is determined about that, but she is not and does not act entitled.

(Secret Origins 80 Page Giant)

"and stubborn" - I will give you stubborn though, that one is true. She’s stubborn as hell! I don’t really see that as a bad thing though, pretty much every bat is stubborn?

"demanding that Batman and Robin accept her untrained ass" - Steph may have been untrained in fighting but she's shown to have exceptional gymnastics skills from the start, and at one point Bruce even says that with the right training she could be as good if not better than Tim (in Robin #88)! So like... her realizing she enjoys trying to be a hero after she tried it out to deal with her personal business, so she looks to the local experts… and is determined about it… how is that a bad thing? It’s also not like she walked up to them and said ‘im perfect as i am let me in’ what she wanted was a chance to be a hero. But she also wasn't even really looking for approval, either, not having Batman's blessing was never going to stop her. ("So excuse me if I don't jump when you bark, Batman." in Robin #16) Later when Bruce does bring her in to train (and she also gets to train with the BoP) she's excited! She’s stubborn about wanting to be in the hero business, but it’s not like she’s unwilling to work for it.

"advocating leaving criminals to die because they 'deserve it'" - She’s a 15 year old who grew up knowing firsthand how dangerous Gotham criminals can be because of her dad, of course off the bat when they’re in a dangerous situation where any of them could die (because that’s the context here, this is in Robin #35 where they’re trapped in some super dangerous snow) she thinks they shouldn’t go back for another criminal who just tried to kill them and should instead save themselves. But she also literally WITHIN THAT SAME ISSUE then says she realized she learned something after listening to Tim and trying to save the guy! In the same issue! Characters in a story aren’t supposed to be perfect from the start… they learn things along the way???

(Robin #35)

"trying to steal from the shops they just stopped from being burglarized" - She’s 15 and doesn’t have a ton of money. She was gonna take two sodas, and when Tim said not to do it she paid with very little fuss. They stopped people who were robbing the place at gunpoint for prescription drugs. If you can’t understand the difference in severity between those things like… I do not even know where to start. (this situation is in Robin #56 btw)

"forcing physical affection onto Tim despite his visible discomfort and repeated objections (not even stopping when he told her he had a girlfriend)" - This one I will give you because she did cross boundaries with all that! But I do also want to clarify that she didn't start coming onto him until after Tim kissed her first (in Robin #5) while not telling her he had a girlfriend. That doesn’t excuse her later actions but for the first issue that she’s coming onto him from her perspective he expressed interest and she was just returning it! She even specifically says 'Maybe I should pay you back for saving my life the same way you paid me' (in Robin #16) before kissing him. That first time she kissed him unprompted was under essentially the same circumstances he kissed her unprompted, and she literally did not know about Ariana until after the fact. From that point once she knew about Ari she definitely should have backed off and she didn’t, that’s a very fair thing to criticize about her as a character. But Tim lead her on first, and I feel a lot of people like to casually forget that when talking about this situation. The way this is phrased of ‘not even stopping when he told her-‘ implies she was repeatedly doing the bad behavior before he told her, which is not the case. She still did bad things here but don’t misrepresent the situation.

"And lashing out at Tim, her mother, and her classmates in violent fits of anger" - Every comic book character lashes out at other people for the sake of drama like, I dare you to come up with a well-known superhero character who hasn’t done shit like that to a partner/family/friends in a moment of high tension/stress?

"She treated the girls around her like they were stupid bitches" - frankly this ones a little too vague like, I'm not sure off the top of my head exactly what they're talking about? in that era right around her pregnancy and stuff I really don't recall her being mean with other girls? I could be forgetting something I guess but the closest I can think of is a bit after this period of time when she has the confrontation with Greta in Young Justice but that was Greta attacking her first, not the other way around.

"got insanely jealous if Tim so much as expressed concern about another girl" - Steph getting jealous and thinking Tim was cheating isn’t that crazy when STEPHANIE BASICALLY WAS THE OTHER GIRL DURING TIM’S LAST RELATIONSHIP? Tim has cheated a little bit before! Tim cheated on Ari with both Jubilee from Marvel (during a crossover thing where he even mentions Ari specifically so it’s not like this was out of continuity/a setting she wasn't an issue or something) and also with Steph. While most of the kissing between them was Steph coming onto Tim which I wouldn’t count as cheating on his end, he did still kiss her which I would count. Not to mention that the jealousy thing (I imagine they’re talking about the instance with Star, the girl who taught Tim to skateboard, this arc of stuff starts in Robin #80 and continues for a few issues) is happening during the time she’s dating him while she still doesn’t even know his real name. He literally has a whole other life she doesn’t know about, and is someone who has initiated romantic moments with other girls while in a relationship multiple times before! With that in mind I don’t think a 16 (she's def 16 by this point) year old girl being kinda paranoid about how he interacts with girls he might know in his civilian life is that unreasonable? The later big instance with jealousy is the Darla situation- where Steph sees Darla kiss him and gets mad about it (and doesn’t talk to him about it) and thats what prompts her to become Robin. The important thing to remember about Steph in this time frame is that DC decided she had to die and they wanted to make her Robin first to drum up more attention for that death. They were doing ooc things with her to set those pieces in motion, and that needs to be taken into account. I think her getting upset about seeing something like that isn’t even ooc, but her using it as motivation to become Robin and not even saying anything to him about it is. In the earlier instance where she’s upset/jealous about Star, she does communicate to him what’s going on at least a little bit on the rooftop after they’d saved her. She makes it clear the thing she was upset about is that she feels like she can’t trust him because she doesn’t really know him while he knows everything about her, and that’s why she thinks he’s cheating. Her reaction to the Darla thing is not in line with how earlier in canon Steph would have handled the same situation, because they wanted her to die and needed a way to explain her becoming Robin.

"and expressed that jealousy by accusing him of cheating and throwing things at him" - I just addressed the cheating stuff but the throwing things was fucking slapstick oh my god this is a comic book for kids/teens like. ah yes this is horrible abuse in this little funny montage of how Steph wants him to leave her alone because she’s mad at him and he refuses to give her space

(Robin #82)

I don’t think anyone at DC or even in fandom would/should try to argue she’s perfect, because she’s not! And I don’t want her to be because perfect characters are boring. Steph is flawed, Steph has been compared in canon to Robin-era Jason by Cass & Bruce

(Detective Comics #790)

And I think these highlight some of her very real flaws that are an interesting part of her character. These plus her stubbornness and determination are part of what makes her her.

And for fuck's sake the world was mean to her, and to act like it wasn’t is just blatantly ignoring a lot. A criminal father who made her life really difficult (‘when my dad was mad at me he’d lock me in the closet!’), that time she got kidnapped for two weeks and her mom had left her (a 15 year old) alone at home so long she didn't even find out it happened (in text Steph says Crystal was visiting friends, a lot of people interpret that as her mom possibly being in rehab for her addictions again), that whole thing about how one of her dad’s friends tried to sexually assault her as a child, also just how due to her dad's work sometimes criminals would be living in their house (Literally the fucking Riddler at one point!), the fact that we as an audience watched her get tortured for several days because a plan she tried to enact to prove herself backfired since Batman didn’t trust her with important information (something Selina even calls him out on in her internal narration), like… sorry but in what way is all that not the world being mean to her?

She was Robin, she dated Robin, she likes Eggplant (because purple would've looked stupid), and makes jokes. She’s also impulsive, headstrong and determined, and wants to prove to herself and others that she can be more than just the daughter of a shitty criminal, that she can actually be a force to do good in the world.

She’s a complex character, and nobody is required to like her, but to act like she doesn’t have a single redeeming trait is ridiculous. You could write a paragraph like that with the worst moments of basically any character and make them look like shit if that's what you were setting out to do.

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who-is-page · 3 years

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We sort of started this discussion at Chimeras' Othercon panel, but I wanted to keep it going so I figured I would send an ask. What do you think it would mean for our community to drop the focus on voluntary and involuntary identities? I agree that we fundamentally should, but a bunch of things immediately jump to mind.

Our community has spent years leaning heavily into the lines between voluntary and involuntary identities and taken special care to make massive distinctions between them, leaving little to no room for grey area. It's no bit surprise that alterhuman spaces have had actual, legitimate, longstanding issues of grilling and gatekeeping. Nonhumans with nuanced and complicated identities are forced to shove themselves into a box to fit into the community, and the ideas we have about certain identities needing to be involuntary are absolutely baked into many aspects of our community and its history.

At the same time, we have used this unjustified gatekeeping in part to protect the community from genuine threats and appropriation of our terminology. The way we have limited our concepts of who is allowed to identify in what ways is generally wrong and has no doubt harmed a subset of kin, but at the same time is understandable in the sense that it has a cause. Yes, this was an issue even before KFF, but KFF certainly don't make it easy to create space for genuine voluntary kin and other voluntary alterhumans.

How do we create the space for nuance and fluidity and complexity in these terms and identities after we have spent so long defensively creating rigid boundaries and restrictions regarding the ways people are allowed to identify? How do we address community gatekeeping while also protecting our community from the people who use our identities and terminology in bad faith?

I have a lot of ideas, but this is obviously a very complex topic that we can't just solve in a day. I was just curious to hear your thoughts, if you had any. Hopefully once our personal website is up one of our first essays will be about this issue. (Also, how is Page? /hj)

So I know we’ve been sitting on this ask for... -checks watch- ...almost two weeks now, but it’s genuinely because I just wasn’t sure how to answer it for a good long while, and I didn’t just want to throw out some haphazard, half-hearted answer to such important questions. So here’s our thoughts on the debacle.

Voluntary and involuntary is a focus I doubt we’ll ever see any of the alterhuman communities permanently drop, for several reasons.

The first and foremost being that, by the definition of the term “alterhuman,” defined here as “a subjective identity which is beyond the scope of what is traditionally considered ‘being human’,” both experiences at their most extremes technically fall underneath the label, rendering the distinction (to some) vitally important to helping understand and define their identity/identity labels. The difference between KFF as an alterhuman identity and forms of otherkinity as an alterhuman identity, for instance, as you mention.

And then there’s the societal factors to consider. People like nice, neat little boxes: people like to be able to compartmentalize their communities, with no overlap, with no spillage, with no complications or grey areas or nuance. It’s a fact of life that people often instinctively want to water down labels and identities into more easily digestible formations, though there are arguments around why people precisely do it. And, as you point out, that often means alterhumans and nonhumans with more complex or nuanced identities typically get shoved into one box or another that they may not perfectly fit into.

When we zero in on specifically the otherkin community, this becomes even more complicated given the community’s rife history: abusive p-shifter groups, the appropriation of language by roleplayers and fiction writers, zoophiles attempting to forcibly associate otherkinity with pro-bestiality movements, and the blatant general misinformation spread by laymen and academics alike, just to name a few relevant problems the community has faced and continues to face. The community is stubborn to a fault, largely because it’s had to be in order to survive. It holds to its preconceived notions and rigid boundaries like a dog with toy aggression to their favorite plush stegosaurus. Fittingly so, really.

So how do we take that stubbornness and change it to be more inclusive to our own? How could we, while still surviving all that onslaught and more? That’s the big question.

In regards to the larger alterhuman community, we’re blessed in the fact that it’s still such a young concept: it hasn’t quite yet had to face the “pathological anger” Religious Studies professor Joseph Laycock has described otherkin as bearing the brunt of. It’s still a community figuring itself out, with much of the anger you find related to it aimed at specific subsets of community within it, rather than at alterhumanity as a whole. And I think the fact that the alterhuman community is still metaphorically air-drying on a table means we have the opportunity to prevent anti-nuance and anti-complexity attitudes from taking hold in it. How we do that is another battle in itself-- I feel like the encouragement of inclusive dialogue, of open discussion intermingled with considerate or civil attitudes, within alterhuman-marketed spaces is a good starting point. I also think that the encouragement and legitimization of “alterhuman” as its own standalone term would be a positive force, where it functions as a broad, diverse identity label in addition to being an overarching, joining umbrella label. A label where someone doesn’t have to give details away of their identity if they don’t feel comfortable doing so, or shove themself into a box they may or may not actually feel they fit into. Something functionally similar to how many people use “queer,” if you will.

But that still leaves aside the issue of identity and terminological misuse, I am aware. And that is...an abstract thing to ward against, at absolute best. I think that the defining of our own spaces not only through our words but also through our actions would perhaps be the best thing we could do, realistically. The cultivation of websites, of group projects--books, zines, comics, pictures, forums, anything!--, of community-led conventions and meet-ups and howls and gatherings. Things which foster and build a community identity of sorts is the best defense against those who would try and distort that which makes us, us.

Zooming back in on the otherkin community, these answers change slightly, because--going back to the clay metaphor--the otherkin community has already metaphorically been glazed and baked (in the fires of hell). That history is cemented, the ways people have wronged it and continue to try and wrong it is cemented, the assumptions and attitudes are cemented.

With the otherkin community, I think that the burden of changing minds and pervasive attitudes falls a bit more onto the shoulders of “community leadership,” because of how the community functions and values both community experience and articulation. There’s a reason we don’t have a term comparable to “greymuzzle” in any of the other alterhuman communities, after all-- it’s a well-known and often aggravating quirk of the otherkin community, to hold certain individuals in such high esteem and put them on a pedestal because of their longevity and the things they’ve done and said. I hate to say that they have to set an example, but in the otherkin community that really is one of the best ways to advocate for change, or to push against those gatekeeping and grilling attitudes--by those who are largely well-respected putting forward ideas that have previously been mocked or disavowed, pushing debates on their legitimacy into community consciousness until it eventually trickles into community normalcy and foundation.

(This is, as you can imagine, a double-edged sword depending on how it’s used. But that’s a discussion for another day.)

That’s not to say that the ideas of creation and creativity with the goal of cultivating an inclusive community identity, like I suggested for the alterhuman community, is inapplicable to the otherkin community: but the otherkin community already has a long-term community identity, so it’d moreso be creation and creativity for the sake of formative inclusion. “History is always written by the winners” is a very, very literal phrase in its application to the otherkin community. Our community memory, for lack of a better way to put it, sucks from individual-to-individual. The future of the otherkin community, its eventual-history, is determined by its historians and creators of today: day-to-day arguments and discussions, unless deemed historically relevant by one archivist or another, disappear to the sands of time, and much more long-term recordings such as essays, websites, comics, etc., often go far beyond just its creators hands and get passed around and down for years, potentially. If you want a more nuanced and inclusive community, you have to dig up the clay for it, shovel by shovel, and bake it yourself, brick by brick, and eventually, with luck, or enough backing prestige, or just because those bricks are so astoundingly solid people can’t resist taking some to build their own foundations to nonhumanity, things will change. It will take time above all else, but once it’s there it will be impossible to remove, because people will just assume those bricks have always been there given enough years.

But those are just some of my thoughts and opinions on it. It’s an issue with so many layers of complexity to it, that there’s really no perfect answer out there that I can offer, and I know even what I’ve shared here has its flaws and drawbacks. I’m sure plenty of my followers also have additional thoughts on the subject, and I’d love to hear from other people what they think in the replies and reblogs.

(Also, Page is a very tired boi.)

#long post #otherkin #alterhuman

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miminiac · 4 years

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Korrasami had build up, just maybe not one you identified with and that’s okay...

I am tired of the LGBTQ+ community hating on Legend of Korra (LoK) for not being gay enough. The critique that there wasn’t enough build up is (1) not productive at all and (2) honestly, not true. There was build up. It may not be the build up every LGBTQ+ person will like, and it may not relate to the experience of every person’s coming out, but it was there. Korrasami was something the creators had tossed around as soon as Book 1 (not that they necessarily had permission to do anything about it). Take this quote from Bryan Konietzko’s tumblr post after the finale aired:

As we wrote Book 1, before the audience had ever laid eyes on Korra and Asami, it was an idea I would kick around the writers’ room. At first we didn’t give it much weight, not because we think same-sex relationships are a joke, but because we never assumed it was something we would ever get away with depicting on an animated show for a kids network in this day and age, or at least in 2010. (link)

The post also discusses how Makorra was never meant to be endgame after Book 1. Again, the time LoK was airing was at a point where states were passing laws to actively prevent gay marriage (LoK ended in 2014, legalization of same-sex marriage by supreme court ruling wasn’t until 2015––context is important). Did they actively write a romance in Books 1 and 2, no they did not. However, as many creators and writers, they let the characters lead them and they discovered that Korra and Asami were more than just friends. Again, taken from the same post:

The more Korra and Asami’s relationship progressed, the more the idea of a romance between them organically blossomed for us

So what we have with Korra and Asami is not a planned romantic relationship from the very beginning, however, the characters have been leading them there since the beginning, whether they realized it or not. Now, I am a big fan of Barthes’ “Death of the Author”, so I 100% percent think that viewers/readers have the ability to inject their own narratives and that multiple narratives can coexist. However, the point of this post is to explain why a critique of “wish they did more” is not productive when it comes to discussion of LoK of a piece of LGBTQ+ media representation. Therefore, I turn to the creators to show that there was intent and there was subtext and build up within Book 3 and 4 (as Bryan discusses in his post, please read in full when you have time).

A lot of Korrasami was hidden in subtext, and that happened because of homophobia within the industry, which still exists today. Content creators of LGBTQ+ media continue to have to walk a fine line. Take Noelle Stevenson talking about Catradora:

My big fear was that I would show my hand too early and get told very definitively that I was not allowed to do this

And like with Catradora (though a little easier since Noelle told viewers that every character is a part of the LGBTQ+ community by default unless explicitly stated otherwise), people saw Korrasami from as early as Book 2 (if not Book 1 on a rewatch).

At the time LoK started airing, I still thought I was straight; I still thought I was straight when I was watching the third season and telling my then boyfriend how Korra and Asami were going to be a couple by the end (literally, when they interacted in the first episode of season 3 while Asami taught Korra how to drive, I turned to him and said it; he said they would never do that and it was a pipe dream). I continued to see Korrasami’s friendship build into something romantic (even if the characters themselves were unaware of it).

Come Season 3 Episode 9, where Asami carries away a helpless Korra, mimicking Katara having carried away a helpless Aang. For those who had watched the original series and were big Korrasami shippers, this scene basically made it canon. It could be argued as the point that maybe the friendship switched to something more romantic. The rest of season 3 and all of season 4 only added moments between these two (side note: I came out as bisexual soon after season 4 started airing, though I had been questioning my sexuality probably since the end of season 3).

Now is the Korrasami relationship perfect, absolutely not. Bryke admits as much, but it was a significant step forward. Again, this happened in 2014, so a lot of narrative within media of states passing laws to discriminate against same-sex couples and deny marriage. The hand-holding scene everyone screams about not being enough. Well, they received plenty of homophobic backlash from that.

The critique that they didn’t do enough is not productive. It is a critique that could be said about most main-stream LGBTQ+ media. I get that we are tired of scraps; I get that we are tired of having to read between the lines because creators are still afraid to come out and say it (pun intended). However, to critique LoK as “not being gay enough” ignores the context in which it was created and what that representation meant to many of the viewers (like myself) who were discovering themselves and their sexuality at the time.

Avatar: the Last Airbender (ATLA) was made for 8-13 year olds (from season 1), and I would argue that LoK was made for that same group of people, who would have then been 14-19 years old when LoK first aired. Thus, LoK was being watched by those entering high school and college––a time of self-discovery.

Additionally, a critique that LoK doesn’t do enough leads to an idea that there is “a right way” to create a LGBTQ+ relationship, which I would argue is harmful to the community at large. If you did not identify with Korra’s coming out, that’s completely valid. If you did not identify with the way the Korrasami relationship progressed, that is also valid. But you cannot invalidate the relationship of Korrasami, as a relationship built off a friendship and mutual respect that blossomed by into something more. The relationship was not sexualized with wistful glances and blatant sexual tension, instead, it was built on a friendship and respect for boundaries.

Again, multiple narratives can be drawn given each viewer has a unique set of experiences. One such reading could show that Asami was more in tune with her feelings for Korra than Korra was about her feelings for Asami. And, instead of flirting non-stop with Korra, Asami respects Korra’s space (though we all saw her check out Korra’s back muscles) and recognizes that Korra has a lot on her plate being the avatar, a relationship is not something on the forefront of her mind. It is only after defeating Kuvira (and the healing/growth from a few episodes prior in "Beyond the Wilds”) that Korra is able to truly understand her feelings to Asami, suggesting they take a trip together––just the two of them.

Now, you may not identify with that type of coming out, but other people do. And to argue that “LoK didn’t make Korrasami explicit enough” undermines the experiences of those in the LGBTQ+ who heavily identified with Korra’s experiences and her coming out.

Holding LGBTQ+ media to this higher standard is inherently toxic. I would like to believe that these creators are coming from a good place with good intentions. There is nothing toxic or abusive in the way Korrasami is portrayed. There is nothing unrealistic about the way their relationship progressed throughout the series. It was not a fan service––it was the natural progression of the characters.

And let’s not forget that Korrasami is not only confirming a relationship between two women, but it is also two women of color. Now, it may not seem like a huge deal within the contexts of the Avatar World, but it is important to remember the context of where this show was airing.

There are things we can critique LoK on. It isn’t perfect. We can discuss the hiring of white voice actors (as a way to hold new media that is being created or will be created accountable, not as a way to just hate on LoK); we can discuss the voices within the writers room and the lack of diversity there. These are critiques that can be made of ATLA and LoK and countless of other media produced. This is a valid critique when used constructively. It is not meant to tear down an entire piece of media and everything that it has done for various communities, but rather to point to a flaw within the way media is being produced and the racist, sexist, and homophobic systems in place that determine what and how media is produced.

If we are to critique, we could look to reimagining how we create and consume media, not tearing down media that has already been produced and stands in a pivotal spot of the community. As Audre Lorde says:

For the master's tools will never dismantle the master's house.

If we are continually operating within the systems of oppression, we will never truly be able to dismantle them. Thus, to operate within the institutions of Nickelodeon, Netflix, Disney, etc. is to be beholden to the rules and constraints of a moderate, heteronormative, sexist, racist society. If creators stray too far from that line too quickly, there will be backlash. The perfect LGBTQ+ representation cannot exist while made within these institutions.

I would like to mention this statement is not to say that we cannot critique or boycott movies or shows that are performative in their diversity. There is no excuse for Hollywood after the successes of Black Panther (2018) and Crazy Rich Asians (2018) (and others) to not fill the crew and writers with the same representation being shown on the screen. We can, and should, hold production companies accountable––and given the internet, it is something we can do even early on in the production process.

I have gotten a little off track, but my point is, think about your critiques. Really ask yourself if it is a productive critique, or if it is critique that actually harms or is toxic to the community. Critiques are hard, I understand that. When we first start to think critically, it is easy to just jump on these “low hanging fruit” type critiques. It takes practice and comfortability learning and expanding your world view to construct a critique that looks at context from various point of views and experiences.

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snailymailybaby · 4 years

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My Take on Snail Mail Etiquette

As anyone who follows this blog has picked up on, I am a very uninvolved blogger who infrequently makes large aesthetic queues and posts their own mail art before logging off and reappearing whenever I have more mail to post. I am going to borrow from the blogging style of my other blog and go ahead and write a bit of a thought piece. The inspiration from this is the most recent in a string of unfortunate experiences while penpaling but it’s not a unique situation or the only one I’m pulling from.

Penpaling Etiquette Penpaling is an extremely old practice and as such there is a certain decorum I believe many people associate with it. Of course, as it’s a practice that’s endured despite changes in technology that means it’s also a practice that’s adapted. Our use of Tumblr to find penpals is a great example of positive adaptations to an antiquated art. Where change can exist simultaneously with stagnation in any practice that naturally creates divisions among the practitioners. I, for one, consider myself to be part of what I consider the Old School way of penpaling and my thoughts on etiquette will be reflective to that style of penships. Though I think much of the etiquette I believe in is universal to all types of penpalers.

Seeking Out Penships Penpaling is undeniably an intimate thing by the nature of it being centered around building a relationship with another person. Even with all the art on our envelopes, on our letters, or even sent with our letters; at the end of day we’re seeking out a connection with the person we’re writing to. Keeping that in mind, there is a right way to seek out penships and there is a wrong way. For me, the right way is to approach the person you’re seeking to write the way you’d look to make a friend back in grade school: introduce yourself, include a little info about yourself, and politely ask if the person is accepting new penpals. I always feel that can be done in any order, but for me a red flag has always been people who without divulging anything about them or inquiring anything about me ask to be my penpal. Or worse yet, tell me they want to be my penpal. I read a certain entitlement into people who do not ask. I’ll admit sometimes I’m imperfect in my responses to people looking, I’ll forget to give them my spiel because I’ve assumed they’ve read it somewhere and that’s why they’ve contacted me. People are imperfect and as the person seeking out new penpals or accepting new penpals it’s important to give as much grace as possible. So long as people are communicating with sincere interest little flaws in forgetting usual etiquette can and should be forgiven. Age Appropriate Penships In any practice that is welcoming to all ages it’s important to set up and maintain appropriate age boundaries. This is simple in penpaling, do not write to anyone under the age of 18 if you are a legal adult. If you are a minor, do not seek out or accept penpals over the age of 18. Minor to legal adult correspondence has an extreme imbalance in the power dynamic. Often adults who will seek out minors to write to are doing so because they’re seeking to manipulate the minor. Minors who are accepting of adult penpals are unwittingly engaging in penships that can have undue influence on them . Even within the 18+ sticking to themselves age rule there can be age gaps between penpals that aren’t in the best interest of the younger party. An 18 year old writing to a 40 year old could be subjected to the same predatory penship as a 13 year old trying to write a 20 year old. There’s also a non-predatory reason why age gaps for adult penships don’t work. Quite simply, a 20 year old and a 25 year old are often at drastically different points in their life and that can make it hard to find common ground. With the 17 and below age rule, again it’s imperfect and there can still be inappropriate age gaps. A 12 year old and a 17 year old shouldn’t be writing to one another for the same reasons that them hanging out in person or even dating would be problematic. A good rule of thumb for minors: Keep it within a 2 year age gap. A good rule of thumb for adults 18-22: Keep it within a 3 year age gap. A good rule of thumb for adults 23-30: Keep it within a 5 year age gap. For adults these are what I’ve discovered to be “easy” to connect over age gaps, but obviously it’s up to the individual’s discretion as to what is a compatible. Disclosing Mental Health I mention this only because I’ve come across it, so what’s the “right move” in disclosing mental health struggles you may have? If it’s something that changes the way you socialize or requires you take extra precautions in who you socialize with/how you socialize (i.e. needing to share triggers) then it’s certainly worth including in your bio when reaching out to penpals. Otherwise, just be wary of oversharing. If you have something you’d like to be upfront with because you feel it’s a deeply ingrained part of what makes you “you” it’s definitely fine to share that! Just remember that while the goal of penships is relationship building, from the start people are still strangers. Sharing the traumatic depths of your struggles extremely early in a penship can be overwhelming for your penpal. It also can cross into territory of unintentional emotional manipulation and cause a penpal who otherwise finds themselves incompatible to feel compelled to keep writing you because they fear for your well-being. Remember, mental health is personal! That’s doesn’t mean you can’t talk about it (I talk to plenty of penpals about mental health!) but just remember it’s not something strangers have earned the right to know about you! Respecting Boundaries When establishing a penship it’s important to create and respect boundaries. Some such boundaries that people have revolve around who they are comfortable writing too. Personally, I do not write to men.It’s a preference built off bad experiences with a few people who aren’t reflective of the whole--- but to look out for me I choose not write men. Should you seek out a penship and learn you fall into some demographic the person chooses not to write to, simply accept that respectfully and move on. In my situation, I have had people argue with me about my choice not to write them because they’re men. This will not endear the person to you and cause them to change their mind. People have reasons for restricting who them write to. Aside from who people are willing to write to, another common boundary is in regards to communication outside of letters. Personally, as someone who belongs to the Old School style of penpaling I do not want to receive messages on social media outside of initial agreements to write one another. For me and others like me, much of the allure of penpaling comes from distance from my “real life”. Communicating solely through letters gives me material for my letters (I am a diary-style writer) and frankly gives me the space to connect with person’s true personality versus being biased by a social media presence. Be clear with the people you’re seeking a penship with whether or not you’re open to developing a friendship over social media as well or if you prefer not to. Again, personally I prefer only receiving initial informational exchanges, updates on addresses, check-ins if it’s been a while since one of us has sent mail, or an occasional birthday/holiday message. For extremely longtime penpals I make exceptions. Social media is another boundary. Unless someone invites you to add them on social media, please do not do this. Yes, you have the name of the person off their address and can technically “easily” discover their social media but that person is trusting in you to respect their privacy. If you want to share your social media that’s wonderful! Just recognize that your penpal may not want to and will not want their privacy invaded. Patience Above all in penpaling you need to be patient.Postal services aren’t perfect whether it’s sending mail on the national or international level. Generally they’re reliable and predictable, but sometimes things go awry. Personally, nothing bothers me more than someone who sends daily or near daily messages inquiring after the arrival of their letter. While it generally can take 3-5 days for mail to travel in the US (where I am) this isn’t exact. If you’re concerned your penpal hasn’t gotten your mail, it’s appropriate to ask them if it’s arrived and if it has not then ask that they update you when it has (assuming you’re concerned it’s lost). Do not message daily or multiple times in a week. If your penpal doesn’t get back to you within 2 weeks of your initial message, it’s fair game to message them once more in order to determine the likelihood the mail has been lost. Often people forget to update one another in the Old School community of penpals--- just by nature of being a little bit of penpaling Luddites. Another reason patience is absolutely necessary in this practice has to do with the rate of letter writing. Penpaling can be a time intensive process that take creative and emotional currency to partake in. As a result, many people do not write a response immediately upon receiving mail. Life and stress often get in the way of penaling. Or even when we have ample time, for those of us who are diary-style writers sometimes we feel there’s not enough going on with us to warrant writing a letter. If you feel you really cannot wait indefinitely for mail then that’s something that needs to be disclosed when you begin penships. There are people who can commit to consistent writing schedules and those that cannot. Ultimately with penpaling, just remember that there’s another person who is sending and receiving mail. It’s not you and a robot. It’s living, breathing person who should be treated with the respect that they deserve.

#Penpaling #penpals #penpal community #snailmail #snail mail #snailmail communuity

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xmxisxforxmaybe · 4 years

Text

Decryption_Error: “Out of Reach”

Summary: Mr. Robot protects Elliot when Y/N pushes too hard; she’s left to wonder if she’ll ever see the man she fell in love with again.

A/N: My tech lingo is gibberish—don’t @ me, tech peeps, unless you want to rewrite my dialogue because that would be super cool 🙃

Decryption_Error: All Chapters

Word Count: 4000

Tags: @sherlollydramoine @rami-malek-trash @teamwolf2411 @limabein @txmel @alottanothing @ouatlovr @backoftheroomandnotbelonging @moon-stars-soul @free-rami @ramimedley @hopplessdreamer @sweet-charmie @polarcrystall @hah0106 @clumsybookworm18

Warnings: ANGST, shouting, aggressive posturing and grabbing/hurting (let me know if I need to warn for anything else)

It was the second Monday of March which meant it was time for a monthly status report. This was one of the hundreds of meetings I attended in which I usually had a razor-sharp focus because this was the part of my job I missed. I missed having a direct role in operations, subverting attempts at data breaches, and working on scripts that would improve day to day operations.

I looked around the table and my eyes settled on the new Senior Manager, although I guess I couldn’t call him “new” anymore. Tim Millner-Brown had already weathered three anonymous hacks and managed to keep everything (and everyone) calm.

Since Dad retired in January and this was now considered a transitory time, it was all the more important operations ran without hiccups. I fixed my gaze on JaLeah, then switched to Ali as he began to speak about a new script to assess WiFi network vulnerabilities. As I listened, my mind flashed back to the meeting Colin and I had with Ali to reprimand him and a wave of disgust prickled through me. I swore to Elliot that his attackers would pay, but here was Ali, confident and happy, leading Elliot’s team.

Tim interrupted Ali, asking, “Why can’t a two-way handshake be enough? Less connections, less chance for an attack?”

Ali was quiet before he said, “Let’s get Alderson to explain. He’s leading the work on the new script.”

Jayne returned after a few moments, Elliot following her like he had been summoned into the principal’s office. He scanned the room, his eyes lingering on mine until I gave him a quick smile, reassuring him he was here to do what he did best.

Tim redirected his question to Elliot who thought for a moment before clarifying, “A three-way handshake is necessary to avoid half-connections. If one ISN changes their mind and doesn’t want to connect, the server doesn’t see the re-sent SYN so it thinks the ISN got its ACK and the connection was established, but it wasn’t—it won’t ever be closed. If we can cut the time it takes for the GTK to associate with a device, we can cut the time a hacker has to gain an access point.

“Without compromising data flow,” he added.

This was not the same Elliot who was ready to quit a year ago rather than give a presentation. I felt a swell of pride at how far he had come, the confidence he had gained. All he needed was someone to believe in him and to push him. And along with my swell of pride came a surge of anger as an image of Elliot, blacked out and bleeding in a broken server room, flashed through my mind.

“Tim, work with Elliot to determine how much time he needs, then work with Ali to find out how much that time will cost. I want a report by Wednesday. And if everything adds up, you can start on Friday—or should we make it Monday so as not to infringe on anyone’s weekend plans?”

My eyes never wavered from Ali’s face as I watched it pale, but from my peripheral vision, I could also see Elliot’s eyes widen. Then, Miles’ voice echoed through my mind on the day I was forced to appoint Ali as Colin’s replacement: You bet the house, and you lost.

But as long as I was in charge, Ali would know I’d never forget what he did. And in that moment, I wanted Elliot to know I hadn’t forgotten either. Never mind that the secret I was keeping from him was burning a hole in my stomach, pushing me to feel even more protective of Elliot than usual.

JaLeah smirked, but she played the placater better than anyone. She peppered Elliot with questions, then Tim dismissed everyone so he and I could go over his analytics.

“Thanks, Elliot,” I said, as he left the room, his lips turning up in a soft smile.

“The two of you are dating?” Tim asked as soon as the door shut.

I raised my eyebrow and turned to look at him.

“Yes?”

“So, it’s not against company policy to date someone you supervise?”

“Elliot and I were in a sort of unique circumstance. We signed a contract with HR, but I ended up being promoted almost immediately afterward, which eliminated the direct conflict.”

“Hmm,” Tim said as his fingers tapped on the folder in front of him.

“Why?”

“JaLeah is . . . well, she’s—”

“Say no more. Obviously I’m a proponent of shooting your shot in the workplace, but Elliot and I were sure to be super transparent about it. And that’s all the advice you’re getting from me. If you want to know if she’s interested, ask her.”

Tim smiled, and I felt like I saw him as a person for the first time instead of just as my replacement.

“And I would be happy to take over her evaluations in the event she is interested.”

Tim’s smile grew a bit wider and he thanked me, twice, before we dove into the data.

It was close to lunch time when Tim and I finished, so I sought out Elliot to see if he wanted to go out. As I walked toward his workstation, he was oblivious to the world, his eyes glued to the screen and his shoulders almost perfectly still despite the furious pace at which I knew his fingers were moving over the keyboard. A pang of guilt resurfaced for the thousandth time this month as I reminded myself I needed to make a decision about what I discovered.

Since I found the grand jury’s testimony, I had been conducting some “research” on my own. All 23 members of the jury, even the one who had voted not to indict, had been receiving the same amount of money for the past 13 years: 2,500 a month.

All 23 people claimed the money on their tax returns, but in 23 different ways—gas leases, oil leases, rental properties, gifts, renting their parking spot in the city, tips, bonuses, and on and on. It was clear someone had met with them and told them exactly how to keep this money under the radar. And if someone met with them to lay out the process for receiving money, then there had to be evidence of that meeting—or that person.

A part of me was dying to share this with Elliot, but another part of me was adamantly against it, afraid of what I would unleash within him if he was given the opportunity to pursue vengeance. My mind kept returning to who he was on the night of Dad’s party and wondering if I could trust that part of Elliot, that part who seemed ready to do something a lot more rash than scratch an itch or even just file a lawsuit. There was a part of Elliot, hell, there were still so many parts of him I didn’t know, didn’t understand.

What I did understand was that every time I looked at him, I felt guilty. And when Elliot’s eyes glanced up and noticed me, he stopped and smiled, a sweet, open grin and Miles’ words flickered through my mind again.

You bet the house, and you lost.

* * * * *

Time has a funny way of making decisions for you, especially if you’ve been riddled by indecision. Once enough time has passed, the control is going to be taken from you—the decision will be made for you, rather than by you.

By the end of March, something uncomfortable had settled between Elliot and me. He was growing distant, closed off, and I stopped working to maintain our open line of communication. The more guilty I felt about hiding the grand jury transcript, the less I wanted to see him. I knew I needed to tell him, but if I had found out about the juror payoffs, Elliot would be able to, and in half the time.

And everything could lead back to my father.

And something deep inside of me knew he knew—I didn’t know the how or the what, but I was certain he knew I was hiding something.

It was after 10:00 pm on a Thursday night when I got home from a dinner party, a business meeting disguised as a social gathering, something I never invited Elliot to anymore after his vitriolic rant.

I was more than surprised to find Elliot sitting on the floor near the balcony, the door open as a wet March wind blew in, smoking a cigarette as nearly half a pack of butts were already stubbed out in the ashtray I knew had been empty.

He was drinking a beer and he was clad entirely in black, topped off with his well-worn hoody, which was something I hadn’t seen on him in a long time.

His hood was up, probably to fight off the chill of the wind, but I wasn’t sure if the explanation was so simple tonight.

“Hey,” I said softly as I pushed the door shut behind me. “I told you I had a thing tonight, didn’t I?”

Elliot nodded yes, as his lips wrapped around the end of his cigarette.

“Is everything okay?” I asked, dread settling over me like a weighted blanket as I watched him take a long drag, the cherry flaring red in the dim light of my apartment.

I slid out of my coat and hung it up on the rack before reaching down to unzip my boots. As I kicked them off, I waited for Elliot to answer. I was tired and wanted nothing more than to change out of my clothes, maybe shower away the day, and go to bed.

Except the smarter part of me knew that wasn’t going to happen and filled me with a sudden desire to just get this over with—just blow the lid off the box and let the scraps settle so we could get back to our normal.

But that would require fixing Elliot’s biggest flaw: his inability to move forward because he never really addressed the root of his problems.

I watched as he stubbed out his cigarette and tipped his beer back, finishing the last swallow.

I sighed in frustration.

“Either tell me what this,” I said as I gesticulated to and around him, “is all about or let me go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

“Where were you?”

I blinked, irritated because we just went over this.

“I told you where I was—at a dinner party. You know, those things I don’t invite you to anymore because you hate everyone?”

Elliot stood, reaching back to slide the balcony door shut. He didn’t take his hood down as he walked to the kitchen sink and rinsed out his bottle before setting it on the counter next to the others.

Chalk that up to something else out of character; Elliot never drank alone.

“You’re lying to me,” he said quietly, his back still turned.

“About the dinner?”

“No. Maybe? How am I supposed to know when you’re the one who’s always lying?”

“I can’t do this,” I said, running a shaky hand through my hair.

“You can’t do this?” Elliot said, his voice rising as he turned around. “You’re the one keeping things from me!” he shouted, his eyebrows raised, making his eyes look impossibly huge, and the cords on his neck standing out as he pointed his finger at me.

“How did you find out?” I asked quietly as I leaned on the counter, looking at the swirled pattern within the granite, unable to meet what was surely an intense gaze.

“I’ve been waiting, Y/N. Waiting for over a fucking month, wondering why you wanted to hide it from me. Wondering what else you decided not to tell me. Wondering if everything you have told me is just a way for you to manipulate me—”

My head shot up, my eyes finding his instantly as I asked, “Why would I want to manipulate you?”

Elliot didn’t answer; his eyes were dark, a stormy grey as they swirled with clouds of emotion. He felt betrayed, and I watched as his eyes settled on my tote that was sitting on the kitchen stool.

“You saw the transcript,” I said with a sad sigh. “You weren’t supposed to find out like that.”

I lowered my gaze back to the granite of the countertop, a strange relief pushing off that weighted blanket of dread. No more hiding. No more agonizing over whether to tell him.

The silence that followed my realization was dreadful, stretching out until my ears rang and my eyes blurred as I stared at the countertop.

“I can’t trust you anymore,” Elliot said, his voice cracking.

But that was the wrong thing to say. My nostrils flared as a thick, white-hot anger rose up in my throat like bile.

“You! You can’t trust me because I withheld something from you? Once! When have I ever done anything like this in our entire relationship?” I questioned, my voice bordering on shrill, so unlike my usual tone that it didn’t even sound like my own voice.

“You’ve broken promises.”

“When?”

“After the server room. You promised me ‘the fucking assholes’ would lose their jobs. And now one of them is my supervisor.”

I stared at Elliot dumbly until he dropped his gaze, leaning back onto the counter.

“We talked about that,” I said, my tone a few octaves closer to normal. “I offered to refuse to promote Ali. You told me things like that happen—it’s a part of the way to ‘enact change.’ You told me not to fight back against his promotion.”

“You promised,” Elliot mumbled, his knuckles growing white as his grip tightened on the countertop.

Once again, Elliot said the wrong thing. If this was all he could come up with, I was livid. Every thing he did that I had to work to let go of, to not make a big deal over, every hurt I had to swallow because I loved him, came rushing out.

“And how many promises have you broken to me? Fuck, Elliot! Not even promises. How many times have you bailed on me? Hacked me? Hurt me?

“No,” I scoffed, “You never meant to do it, but you fucking did do it. I have been so patient with you—”

“I’m not a child!” Elliot interrupted through clenched teeth.

“You’re pissed at me for something you told me to do!”

“I told you to withhold information about my dad’s death?”

“I needed time, Elliot. I needed to analyze the risk—”

“I’m not a piece of fucking data, Y/N! You can’t—” Elliot paused as he pushed off the counter and stepped toward the island. “You can’t analyze me. You can’t predict my next move or maybe that’s the problem? Maybe that’s what you’ve been doing all along? Manipulating me because you think you’re smarter than me.”

“That is not what I meant,” I said, my brows drawn and my mouth closing into a frown.

“You begged me to trust you and I knew—I fucking knew someone like you couldn’t be trusted!”

“Someone like me?” I shouted back, pushing away from the counter and marching around the island to stand in front of him. “Someone like ME? Surely you’re not going to throw Dad’s money in my face again. You’re starting to sound like a broken fucking record!

“You know what—no,” I said, shaking my head and turning away from him pacing to the balcony door before turning around and slowly walking back toward Elliot. “You don’t get to do this and get away with it this time. I can’t walk on eggshells while you get to be shitty to me whenever you have a bad time. Don’t you want to know why you’re like this? Don’t you want to know why you’re so paranoid, why you push away people who fucking love you? Don’t you want to know why you don’t trust anyone?”

I was a breath away from him as he began to withdrawal further and further into himself. And because I was watching his face, my eyes desperately pleading with him to see reason, I saw the change—Elliot looked away, seemingly in exasperation, and his eyelids fluttered so subtly that if I had blinked at that very moment, I would have missed it.

When he looked back at me, Elliot Alderson was gone; now, I was met with the steel gaze of the same person who had demanded I leave Elliot alone as he sat on the floor of my closet during the Fourth of July.

I took a step back, my mouth dropping open as fear rushed through my body, my eyes filling with tears as I realized I was afraid of him—afraid of Elliot.

“You should be afraid, little girl,” he chuckled darkly, his voice low, the intonation different. “Now get the fuck out of here and leave him alone.”

“You’re—you’re in my apartment,” I stammered, still clinging to anger despite my fear.

He looked around, remembering, and he fixed a glare at me, his eyes unwelcoming as his jaw clenched, the muscles twitching before he moved toward the front door.

As I watched him walk away, my anger and fear turned to desperation. Darlene’s words rang through my mind, ‘If he bails on you, tries to push you away, it’s not really him.’”

It’s not really him.

“Stop—Elli—whoever you are! Please. Don’t go,” I pleaded. “Stay. Talk to me. Help me understand.”

He paused, his head turning to slightly look over his shoulder before he moved toward the front door again. I raced to it and wedged myself between him and the door, placing my hand over the knob.

“Stay,” I begged. “Don’t leave like this. After everything—please don’t leave us like this. I want to help you, Elliot—if you’re in there, come back to me.”

His hands flew up and slammed into the door on either side of my head.

I jumped, flinching as he leaned into me, his lips beside my ear as he growled, “I fucking warned you!”

“During the Fourth. I remember,” I whispered.

He pulled back and looked at me with those icy eyes.

“That was the first time you pushed too hard, came too close. I can’t allow you to do that, sweetheart. Elliot’s had enough time with you. It ends now,” he said as he grabbed my shoulders and pulled me away from the door.

I grabbed his arm and he shook me off, but I grabbed him again and pulled him back enough to allow me to wedge myself against the door again.

“I told you,” he yelled, his voice harsh and unrecognizable. “I can’t protect him if you keep forcing him to open up!”

I didn’t let my fear stop me as I pressed him.

“Protect him from what? Did someone hurt him? I read about what can cause—”

His hand flew against my mouth with enough force to knock my head against the door. He pressed hard and cut off my words.

Never did his eyes leave mine as Elliot’s would have, especially in a situation of such discomfort and intense emotion. Never once did he look away.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

I held his gaze, refusing to waver. He pressed harder, the pressure on the back of my head becoming a painful throbbing.

“Can you shut the fuck up?” he asked, his brows nearly reaching his hairline.

I watch his face transition to a look of smug satisfaction as I manage to slightly nod.

He released his grip, and I deflated, the fight leaving my body as I stepped away from the door. I leaned against the wall before slowly sinking to the floor.

I didn’t raise my eyes as I quietly asked, “Are you going to keep Elliot from seeing me again?”

He sighed, some of the fight leaving him, too.

“Elliot loves you—this wasn’t supposed to happen, Y/N.”

As he said my name, my head jerked up, the syllables so foreign on his tongue I knew, without a doubt, that whoever was standing in front of me was someone completely different than Elliot Alderson.

“You have to understand that it’s my job to keep him safe. Not yours, not Darlene’s. No one else’s. No one else can keep him safe.”

“What about a psychiatrist?”

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous. If they don’t fuck him up with 15 different kinds of meds, they’ll just throw him in an institution. Is that what you want? Elliot locked up like some kind of sick-o creep?”

“I would never let that happen.”

“Daddy’s money gonna buy Elliot a happy little place in the Adirondacks? Get him a nurse, someone nice to take care of him like his worthless mother never could?”

“Is that why you hate me? I have money? Or because I consider Elliot family?”

“My job is to protect him, and I’ve decided you’re not worth the risk, sweetheart.”

Without another glance, he opened the door and slammed it shut behind him.

I buried my head in my hands, the tears I had held back throughout the entire ordeal bursting out in a harsh sob. I crawled over to the door and locked it, pulling myself up by the knob in order to secure the deadbolt.

Not that it mattered since Elliot had a key.

Not that it mattered since Elliot was being held prisoner inside of his own body.

And no one, except himself, held that key.

* * * * *

Elliot didn’t come to work on the next day.

And then he didn’t come for another three days.

When I read the email from Ali questioning Elliot’s whereabouts, I wasn’t surprised. I called him up to my office and had the secretary shut the door after she let him in.

Ali had the good manners to look concerned, but I could detect the haughtiness underneath.

“I’ve noticed that Alderson’s been out for the past few days. Can you provide some insight? He was the lead on our new WiFi scripts, as I’m sure you remember.”

The lie came much easier than any other lie in my life had.

“He’s had a death in the family, Ali. I suggest postponing the project until he returns. Ask JaLeah for someone who can handle white hat duties if your team needs another hacker.”

Some of the haughtiness fell from Ali’s face.

“Oh. Well, my condolences to him when you see him.”

“Thank you. Will there be anything else?”

“Nope—you’ve always got the answers, boss.”

“Don’t call me that,” I said as I rolled my eyes and offered him a crooked smile in an attempt to subvert his attention from the abnormality of Elliot’s absences.

Ali grinned and shrugged his shoulders.

The partial smile fell from my face the instant the door shut behind Ali, and I felt sick as my mind worked over my lie. I didn’t live my life in the shadows. I lived with integrity.

And I had just told a boldfaced lie, one that would surely make its way around the office, and if Elliot never came back to work, everyone would know I lied for my boyfriend.

What a fucking mess.

I had to see him; I had to try to talk to my Elliot, the one I was in love with, and not this other who seemed to want nothing more than for me to fuck off for good.

I made a promise to Darlene not to let Elliot bail, and clearly, the Aldersons took promises made to them seriously.

#Elliot Alderson #elliot alderson x reader #elliot x reader #mr robot fanfiction #female reader #rami malek #rami malek character

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socially-inept-marketer · 3 years

Text

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Enriched self-confidenceA study from the International Coaching Federation (IFC) found that 80 percent of people who hired a life coach reported an improvement in self-confidence.Another perspectiveWe're frequently consumed by our very own remarks, life experiences, and manner of thinking. A life coach can offer a new and frequently beneficial perspective on matters.Heightened self-awarenessBeing fully conscious of your effect on other people and recognizing your flaws, strengths, and one-of-a-kind personality traits is a very challenging experience. This is the artwork of self-awareness.Self-awareness calls for a powerful capacity for introspection and reflection, something that a life coach can help you work towards. In reality, one study found that 67.6percent of training clients encounter a greater degree of self-awareness.Produce a balanced lifestyleThe idea of life balance differs for everyone. Still, often it refers to a joyful, peaceful, and harmonious relationship between your cognitive and physical being, in addition to the significant regions of life.One of the advantages of a life coach is identifying what equilibrium appears like for you and specifying action steps to attain more balance in your lifetime.

Foster better connections

Relationships are the glue that unites individuals with culture and supplies shared satisfaction in life. From unions to beyond and friendships, strong relationships are a crucial contributor to joy.According to the identical ICF study mentioned before, 73 percent of people who hired a life coach enhanced their relationships.Achieve goalsMost of us have dreams in life. However, not a lot of people crystalize these dreams into tangible goals to accomplish. A significant advantage of lifestyle coaching is defining your lifetime objectives and generating a concrete, viable plan to reach them.

Find joy

True happiness is a bit of a mysterious experience, and for many people, it isn't easy to envision a life that's forever delighted. After the day, joy is inherent; it is a sense that's unique to how you feel inside.

By defining lifestyle targets, creating equilibrium, and committing to a much better version of yourself together with the assistance of a lifestyle coach, you start up the possibility of finding happiness. Helping others find joy is one of the principal reasons people eventually become life coaches.

Discover clarity of function Are you clear on exactly what your goal in life would be? Again, this is an individual and inner fire that burns within. It is your fire, dreams, abilities, and flaws all bundled into one.It is your direction in life. Clarity of purpose is essential if you would like to chase your dreams, a life coach can help you in producing this attention.

Do everything you loveFinding that one thing that you enjoy more than anything else and doing this daily is a massive contributor to joy and gratification. Having clarity of function unlocks insights into what this could be. That is just another one of the numerous advantages of a life coach in your corner.Follow through on responsibilities.Employing a life coach is about more than simply getting guidance and advice; it also generates liability. You'll get an ally that holds you to a word and guarantees those aims become chased and projects are finished.Discover your Very Best selfMany people spend too much time comparing themselves to other people and focussing on what we perceive to be our defects.

Discovering your very best self is one of those invaluable advantages of life coaching.

Determine your strengths and flawsA life coach will take an impartial view of your weaknesses and strengths, assisting you to know the areas of most incredible opportunity

.Be open-minded

To be open-minded, you have to appreciate various methods of doing things and changing viewpoints on life aside from your own. A life coach can offer the outlook and thinking process necessary to adopt this mindset.

Unlock possible

A lot of people have latent potential that's concealed by bias or closed-mindedness. Life coaches unlock this possibility by opening up you to alternative thinking methods and producing clarity for your direction in life

.Improve communication

According to the IFC analysis mentioned previously, seventy-two percent of people who employ a life coach enhance their communication abilities. That is no surprise that the very best life coaches have licensed NLP practitioners -- the most innovative set of communication abilities ever developed. Successful communication is one of the principal advantages of NLP life coaching. (Find more information about exactly what NLP is.)

Manage productivity and time

Everyone has the identical amount of time daily, but a few people use those 24 hours better than others. Working with a life coach can help you better manage your time, establish priorities, and get more done.

Remove negative thoughts

In addition to studying the positive elements of life, like your goal, goals, and possible, life coaches are equipped with a collection of techniques that could enable you to remove or reduce negative ideas that hold you back.

Conquer your fears

By reducing unwanted ideas and adopting your own strengths, you may start to conquer fears which have been limiting your ability to attain your dreams.

Unearth creativity

You are able to use a life coach to brainstorm ideas and exude imagination that's sitting dormant in the depths of the own subconscious.

Give a different perspective on life

Becoming open-minded, self indulgent, and contemplating a new outlook on life will provide you a more favorable and well-rounded outlook.

Create higher income

The skills you develop while coping with a life coach will concentrate your assets while pursuing career objectives or expanding your business to new heights. This really is one of the vital advantages of training in a business atmosphere.

Remove bad habits

When bad customs are embedded within our daily life, they reduce our capacity to carry out. Working with a impartial third party can help you decide what these customs can be and learn how to eliminate them.

Be Conscious of your worth

Our values are such deeply held principles that affect our behaviour and inspire us to do things both big and small. Given that the sheer influence of lifestyle values on each activity, being mindful of what they are can reevaluate how we live and execute.Alignment of advantages with choices

A strengths-based strategy to personal development concentrates on the positive internal resources of someone make modifications. This is compared to conventional procedures that concentrate on identifying flaws and attempting to improve those regions.

Stay inspired:

One of the Most Popular benefits of lifestyle coaching

Setbacks and roadblocks can derail the best people. One of the most popular benefits of life coaching is to maintain the subject and maximum effort during hard times. You will probably discover pockets of thirst and inspiration which you never knew existed.

Despite believing that we behave logically, the majority of people make decisions based on emotion or entirely subconscious procedures . Having a deeper knowledge of the way the mind functions, you can reframe the procedure for decision-making so it becomes easier and wiser.

By way of instance, an NLP-trained life trainer will be well-versed from the NLP Decision Making Approach , a concept that integrates visual, auditory, and kinesthetic (touch) perceptions and the way they affect our conclusions.

Show empath

In order empathetic, you have to view and feel that the world through the lens of someone else, place yourself into their shoes, and be conscious of their own situation. Regrettably, not everyone has the exact same capacity to demonstrate compassion towards other people.

A life coach can help you look past your own personal wants and supply in-the-moment methods for displaying compassion.

Learn How to accept criticism

If you have been to a job interview, it is very likely you have been asked just how well you take comments from other people. Although the majority of people would love to believe they are open and eager to accept criticism or feedback, in the warmth of this moment their feelings take over.A psychological reaction may lead to a less than ideal effect on the individual providing the comments, who might only be trying to assist you. Learning how to accept criticism is an effective life ability to develop and one of the advantages of life coaching.

Display more appreciation

Showing gratitude and appreciation is an essential component of boosting relationships. It makes people feel great about the effect they have in your own life -- be it in a corporate environment or even socially.

A life coach knows the significance of admiration and has the resources that will assist you to use it effectively in your daily life.

Build rapport

Rapport is a link between a team that empowers those people to socialize and communicate efficiently. For most of us, rapport is regarded as an uncontrollable force that we have with someone or people do not.

But, creating connections with other people can be an intentional and organized procedure a life coach can help you with.Boost physical well-being

Life coaches can provide more than simply emotional and mental support. They can also work together with you to make and implement a strategy for enhancing your bodily well-being or losing weight. A wholesome body often causes a wholesome head also.Reduce stress

Anxiety is a frequent occurrence for a significant section of the populace. Financial burdens, career-related problems, or personal relationship issues could lead to psychological uncertainty and stress-related wellness issues. Life coaches have access to comfort methods, for example, NLP, which can decrease the psychological habits causing anxiety in your life.#33. Reduced depression and stress

Depression and stress are a society-wide wellness issue with lots of complex components, none of which can be a simple fix. But, obtaining an ally in your corner, that knows your causes could lead to an enhanced means of handling the signs of mental health problems.

Advantages of Edmonton Life Coach -- Decision To be happy is another suggestion for everyone. However, one thing is for sure, if you're clear on your goal, remove negativity from your life, and also possess the resources and methods to construct meaningful connections, happiness and satisfaction are attainable.They're more than viable -- everything you'll need is a frame for discovering your leadership in life and an ally that will assist you in getting there. That is your life coach.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coaching

#lifecoach #life #gofurther

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nookishposts · 3 years

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It’s been awhile between blog posts.

There have been lots of things to write about but I have found myself really challenged to actually translate thoughts and feelings into words. I think a whole lot of people have. 2020 into 2021 has been a year of the steepest learning curve; when everything and everybody has had to shift through the prism filter of a pandemic. We have all stumbled forward, uncertain, confused, our senses and sensibilities tested by persistent alterations in such ordinary things as grocery shopping and haircuts. If we are honest, we know there will be no “going back”. We are not really at war with anything but our own assumptions..and perhaps understanding what a luxury it has been even to have them.

A child of the 1960s, beneficiary of post-vaccine development, I could never have dreamed of the day when a hug might be dangerous...and so much of daily routine would need to be at least 6 feet away, with a mask and a lot of hand sanitiser in the space in between. In the past year, the World has become both bigger and smaller. There’s a virus that doesn’t care about one bit about geography, infiltrating even the most remote of places, and yet forcibly uniting us in our vulnerability as well as our responsibility. Of course we will come out the other side, things will get better; we will see our families face to face and be able to travel again. Conspiracy theories aside, it should be an obvious and straightforward path through a shadowy forest. Except it’s not. We’ve been slowed down enough to see actual faces in the shadows; sometimes there are mirrors among the trees, reflecting back to us things we have managed to ignore, minute and momentous, not the least of which is the privilege of self-righteous indignation.

It is so seductively easy to settle into a personal groove of work and home, a schedule of self-determined priorities, to keep our heads down and our focus tight. Until something unexpected comes along that says we can’t do it our way any more; that our focus must become less about personal preference and more about collective safety, that we each have a role to play in a picture much bigger than our own. Cries of perceived personal rights violations have tried to drown out the soothing hum of rational and practical evidence-based sense. The World is sick. We have to help it heal. Here’s a mask, some soap and a few common sense guidelines. It’s really not asking too much, right? Unless you are an anti-masker, anti-vaxer, or person whose financial and political privilege has convinced you that you are beyond the scope of the rules.

We are more than a year in. Everybody is tired. Against the backdrop of a global pandemic precautions that dismantle small-business and independent livelihoods, that steals the actual lives of across-the-board good folks just trying to get from day to day, Life itself has had the audacity to persist; in births, deaths, violence, poverty, homelessness,hunger, celebration and sorrow. We can no longer ignore the festering issues we’ve been rushing past on our way through the forest. The strain of pandemic times has brought to a scalding boil the long-standing simmer of fear that manifests as anger. Like frustrated children we lash out and seek to blame somebody, anybody, for rousing us from a slumbering panacea of okay-ness into a grumpy, collective awakening toward how much community responsibility we have abandoned as we’ve been overwhelmed into sleep-walking.

Like every crisis, this one also brings opportunity. I think in fact we have surprised ourselves with certain kinds of resilience and creative solution. We are doing things the pols have said for years could not be done: working from home, reducing congestion, creating alternative education pathways, supporting local economy as we stay closer to home. The methods are flawed, but fascinating and full of potential. We’ve planted gardens; in yards and balconies and windowsills, reminding ourselves that we can coax bounty from barren-ness given the right seeds and a bit of effort. Can we not take those reminders of our innate survivalism and grow them too? Bigger gardens, plus more willing hands, equals feeding more people..in spirit as well as in body. Can we apply the same cooperative space and willingness to long-term care legislation, to local business incentives, to ensuring clean water and affordable housing, to mental health supports and sustainable infrastructure for the most vulnerable among us? Can we not recognise the everyday heroism of those front-line folk who cannot work from home and compensate them not just with financial fairness but also by investing in their personal and practical support ? We have been politically barn-stormed into apathetic compliance, into believing we have no influence left. But as we make our slow and stumbling way through this latest forest, what are we seeing in the shadows and the mirrors? We see that one road doesn’t bring enough light to really see by, that pathways need to be cleared all directions so we can reach those left in the shadows by the moneyed bulldozer that came through carving only the path of least resistance. We have always had the time and the resources. We must create the will to effect them. When a global tsunami hits and we are tested, we get resourceful, we learn how to tread water, then navigate through the shock waves to higher, drier ground from which the bigger view appears. We look back and see what needs to be done. We’ve been here before. The pandemic has given us the latest opportunity to seek higher ground and clearer perspective. What will it take to effect what we do with it?

I hope that you have kept your head above water and have what you need to stay healthy. I know you have committed many acts of kindness, large and small. I know you have kept an eye on your neighbour. I know you have suffered losses and carry new fears in your pocket. Mostly I know you are exhausted by where we find ourselves now. Me too. Amid the grand-standers and the angry shouting, the whisper of hope is comprised of many more voices, which means a groundswell of fertility and real, practical action is also within hearing. I can still call out to you from 6 feet away. I can also hear you, and the ones on either side, behind and ahead of us as well. We can encourage one another as we begin to plant better seeds in the ground right where we stand. We can step off the proscribed path and create a bit of light by not being so afraid of ineffectual energies that we fail to address the shadows. It’s okay to find yourself uncomfortable in the mirror, but look over your own shoulder and see that the rest of us are still reflected within your view. All of us. Surely we can make something out of that much.

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shenlongshao · 4 years

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GGS Redesign Analysis: Millia Rage

This is super long overdue, but welcome to another part of the GGStrive redesign analysis! Last time, I did Zato, which can be found here. Now it’s time to do Millia Rage!^_^ MILLIA RAGE ------------------- “How is it possible she keeps getting prettier?!” and “She looks so gorgeous!” is what the majority of people said after seeing Millia’s reveal trailer. Since she has a few designs in the past, I’ll be talking about each one starting with her look in Guilty Gear: The Missing Link.

(Here’s a direct link to see it bigger https://i.imgur.com/dR9DBod.jpg) Millia’s initial design has a simple, yet unique and retro type style. The height and width of her collar conveys the traits of being mysterious, distant, and reserved. The short bubble sleeves of her form-fitting, white leotard displays a hint of her feminine and elegant side. Layered over the leotard is a sleeveless, short blue overalls dress with hip-high slits. On her arms is long, fingerless gloves with double metal plates. On her feet is ankle-length boots with blue frontal metal plating. Sometimes, she would try to conceal herself with a long, beige cloak when venturing in public. The primary aspect of her design is her blonde hair, which the majority of it is her Forbidden Beast called Angra. And lastly, there’s a thick, blue headband to compliment her look. Before the events of the 1st game, Millia was an orphan until being raised by the Assassin’s Guild and forcefully given Angra(it hasn’t be directly stated what she lost in exchange, but there’s some implications on what it might be). The style of her black gloves shows she’s combat ready while the style of her clothing tells of her valuing the aspect of able to move freely. Although the training and traits of an assassin has been instilled in her, the blue and white color scheme conveys how much she wanted to get away from that lifestyle. I think this design was good for its time, but I’m glad it was improved in Guilty Gear X. Next is what was her iconic look.

The concept of Millia’s original design has been kept and updated rather than a complete change. Her long, black fingerless gloves and her ankle-length boots is the same. However, one of the changes is she wears a black leotard underneath instead of white. There’s also the design of her high-collared, short-sleeved dress. It has two buckle straps within her bustline and at the helms along with blue trim. I notice how white is the dominant color this time instead of blue, so l’ll be gathering the color personality traits that fit Millia. Color Personality of White: https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-white.html Having a personality color white means you are neat and immaculate in your appearance, in the presentation of your home and in your car, almost to the point of being fanatical. You are well-balanced, sensible, discreet and wise. With a personality color white, you are cautious, practical and careful with money. You think carefully before acting - you are definitely not prone to impulsive behavior. You tend to have a great deal of self control.

You are confident, poised and self-assured when at your most positive, but can also be very choosy and fastidious when the mood strikes. You can be very critical of yourself and others (in your need for perfection) - but you try to be fair and impartial as well. You are self-sufficient and a loner - you don't want or need help from anyone. However, you may also experience times of loneliness because of this trait. You may be wishing to create simplicity in your life - perhaps a wish to re-create your childhood, lost youth and happier times in your past life.

You can be quite sexually prudish with your need for self-control and perfection. You hide your flaws from others to give an impression of perfection. You may appear to be shy, but you do have strong beliefs about most things and love the opportunity to air those beliefs. The challenge for you is to be open-minded and flexible and to communicate your needs and desires. Color Personality of Blue: https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-blue.html You are conservative, reliable and trustworthy - you are quite trusting of others although you are very wary in the beginning until you are sure of the other person. At the same time, you also have a deep need to be trusted. You are not impulsive or spontaneous - you always think before you speak and act and do everything at your own pace in your own time. You take time to process and share your feelings. You are genuine and sincere, and you take your responsibilities seriously. Having a personality color blue means you have a deep need for peace and harmony in your everyday life - you don't like having your feathers ruffled. You would benefit from daily meditation and quiet time for reflection, introspection and self-discovery. You appear to be confident and self-controlled, but may be hiding your vulnerable side. Being a personality color blue means you are generally fairly even-tempered, unless your emotions take over - then you can become either moody and over-emotional, or cool and indifferent.

You can be rigid - you like to stick to what is familiar to you and it is hard to sway you from your path - you stubbornly do things your way even if there is a better way. You need to have direction & order in your living and work spaces - untidiness and unpredictability overwhelm you. You don't like to draw attention to yourself - you prefer to be in the background. Color Personality of Black: https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/color-black.html You are independent, strong-willed and determined and like to be in control of yourself and situations. With black as your personality color, you may be too serious for your own good - bring some colour into your life to lighten you up - life should be fun. With a personality color black, you may be looking for protection from any negativity that surrounds you. You may wish to create an aura of mystery and intrigue, as in the sexy black negligee. You may be going through a stage of self-denial, not allowing pleasure and joy into your life. You hold things inside and are not good at sharing yourself with others, possibly out of fear. You are methodical in your work, making sure everything is completed as required, down to the last detail. You may have lost sight of your direction in life and are going through a very negative phase. These perfectly describe Millia and like the improvements to her design. Story-wise, Millia was still on the path of severing ties with her teacher/lover Zato and the Guild. But she wasn’t able to fully live peacefully due to Zato’s body got taken over by Eddie. The biggest change is how Zato got revived by the Conclave, which stirs the mixed feelings she has for him and forces her to deal with her feelings and what to do with her life; meaning a change in her design.

This is the first redesign of Millia’s look that really accentuates her feminine nature and hint of Russian heritage. The style of her hair is different with side-swept bangs and layers extending beyond her cheeks(without Angra, her hair grew to her shoulders). There’s still hints of her previous look with the style of the long-sleeved coat dress she wears. It now has the added detail of decorative button within the orange tie saying “Curiosity killed the cat”(she likes cats and chasing them). She still has the high collar and how there’s a single buckle with a loose strap wrapped around her lower shoulders. There’s two buttons near the black cuffs of her sleeves and helms of her coat dress. Her gloves are much shorter and this time, is white with orange trim. The black leggings and the white, ballerina-inspired shoes displays her elegant side. The Russian style hat has the labels Z1-28 and 13; Z for Zato and 1-28 referring to his birthday and 13 for the years they were together. The most interesting part of of her look is the main color is golden yellow. There’s also some hint of orange, so let’s see what it means for her. Color Personality of Yellow: https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-yellow.html You analyze everything, all the time, and are methodical in your thinking. You have a strong independent streak in you, and are selective with your choice of friends, keeping a small group of close and like-minded friends rather than being involved in team events or large social gatherings. You communicate well on a mental level with like-minded people, but can become bitter and sharp-tongued if crossed. With a personality color yellow, you can be stubborn but dislike pettiness and spitefulness of all kinds. You like to think you are intelligent and well educated, with knowledge about many topics. You are a smart dresser and always dress to impress. Color Personality of Orange: https://www.empower-yourself-with-color-psychology.com/personality-color-orange.html You are friendly, good-natured and a generally agreeable person. You are tolerant and accepting of others just the way they are. You enjoy being physically active, particularly in the outdoors, whether it's simply going for a walk, or competing in high level sporting competitions. I love this design for her because of how well it shows her style and personality. My only complaint is it’s way too much yellow, XD. But Millia has went through a major character development with the realization there is some good moments during her time in the Guild, such as people she formed connections with(Zato, Slayer, and Venom). That instead of running from the Guild, she decides to return and vows to be the next leader to reform it. She concludes that a simple, normal life is not what’s meant to be. It’s really basically a poor excuse for her to keep appearing in future games, lol. Thus, it’s time for to have another redesign, which I’ll begin with her face.

The structure of Millia’s face looks softer with slightly rounder cheeks and smoother chin to emphasize her femininity. I notice how she’s given a distinctive nose shape rather than giving her a standard female nose. The tip is smoother and the bridge of her nose has a elongated curve. The most pronounced feature of her face is her eyes. Not only is it similar to style of the older GG games(like X2), but her eyelashes are thicker. It conveys of her being mature, elegant, and confident. Another thing I noticed about her eyes isn’t the same shade of blue like Ky’s in the previous games. Lighting does have a huge effect on how a color appears, so I did looked at Ky’s under the same lighting and stage; Ky’s is pure blue compared to Millia’s. Next is seeing the rest of her upper body.

(Link to see it bigger https://i.imgur.com/19919qD.png) There’s some things kept from her Xrd SIGN design like the button that says “Curiosity kills the cat” and “Z1-28″ and “13″ on her hat. The material of her Russian hat is fur like a traditional one, once again wanting to highlight her nationality. The style of her clothes is drastically different with wearing a formal black blouse with orange trim and the details on her new, form-fitting dress coat. Below the bust area, the printed words on it says “Ivy Traditional”, which is mostly like the name of the clothing brand she’s wearing. There’s buttons from the front beginning from her stomach downward and buckle straps around the sleeves and the outer center on the upper part of the coat. Accenting the look is a orange scarf attached and wrapped around her shoulders. An interesting detail around one of her sleeves is the strap with the tag “P.W.A.B.”(I circled it in the picture). Considering what happened in Revelator(1 and 2), it must be relating to what Millia’s goal is and has a high position. Surprisingly, there’s no full picture of her yet so I’ll have to show a screenshot instead.

She also seems to have kept her black leggings, but have different shoes. Now she wears high boots with orange trim at the bottom. Millia’s primary color is French beige this time, so let’s look at the color personality.(I had to go to a different site) Color Personality for Beige: https://colorogy.com/beige-color-meaning.html You are modest about your achievements. You can keep secrets and confidences. Your understated and low key persona can fascinate and intrigue other people. You come across as enigmatic as you say little and leave a lot unsaid. You keep your cool even in difficult situations. People are drawn to your calmness and inherent tranquility. You have an indefinable quality that adds to your allure and this can mean you are always or frequently surrounded by admirers. You prefer to play by the rules and being ethical is one of your priorities. You are a true friend and a loyal partner in your relationships. When it comes to friendship, it is not a hectic social life and a long list of friends that you look for or want for yourself. You are happy and content with a small, trusted group of friends. Loyalty is something that comes naturally to you. You are loyal and expect the same in return. You have the ability to grasp new ideas and concepts quickly. You amass knowledge for wisdom and for knowledge’s sake. You are interested in everything that goes on in the world and in your areas of interest. You are much in tune with all that occurs in your immediate environment. You are responsible and dependable. You are introspective and enjoy discovering meaning to your beliefs and way of thinking. When you start something new your intention is always to take it to a logical conclusion. When you become interested in something you burn with ideas and energy to get what you want. You are protective about your loved ones. You are even protective about the welfare of perfect strangers. You may take up a cause that inspires you and quietly do your bit without mentioning it to anyone. Seeing someone else miserable or suffering in some way can cause you emotional distress and take the shine off your day. Refined and sophisticated define your personality perfectly. This reflects in every aspect of your life, your fashion sense, your lifestyle, your behavior and your choices. Even when you encounter difficult, irate or rude people, you may not retaliate, as you believe undignified behavior is below your dignity. You get content with the way your life is and resist major change. You enjoy being in your comfort zone and are reluctant to step out of it to face the unknown and have different kind of experiences. You think of and plan for tomorrow. You have goals and ambitions that you plan to achieve and have a concrete plan in place. The efforts you put in towards achieving all that you want in life are consistent. You don’t back down; come what may, when you really want something. With Millia taking on a high position role and how she wishes to make a positive change in the Guild, wanting to be with her allies, etc. The color beige definitely fits her, especially since it also describes traits she has since the beginning. There’s Venom, whom they used to not get along, but have learned to put the past behind them. Zato, her mentor and the one she loved, whom she still deeply cares for, etc. It’ll be interesting to see how her story unfolds and how she takes on this role. All of Millia’s designs have been great in their own way and love how her Strive design takes it a step further. She’s more beautiful than before(which I didn’t think was possible, lol), her professional and elegant style highlights her personality and growth as a person, and love her striking eyes. I’m really glad yellow isn’t her main color anymore because I felt it was too overpowering, especially with her hair being also yellow. Beige is a much better color and compliments very well. Rating: S + + + (Gorgeous~!)

#guilty gear strive #guilty gear #millia rage #character analysis #this is long overdue lol #Daisuke Ishiwatari

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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962

Do you have a pair of Beat headphones? I used to have a pair. I mean it’s still around in my closet, but it’s completely broken now with the cable all given out and the cushion for the left ear has been missing for a while. I just don’t have the heart to throw it out because it was my absolute favorite pair of headphones that gave me good memories during a particularly shitty time in high school.

How was your week? A little better. I’ve gotten into the groove at work so I’m no longer shy when it comes to asking questions and giving inputs, and I’ve gained a better grasp of the workplace’s dynamic so it’s also been easier to communicate with people. Heavy life stuff is still around and it won’t be leaving for a while, but they were easier to ignore this week.

Are any of your electronics not working properly at the moment? Not really, but my phone’s charger cable recently stopped working. I have a backup that I’m using at the moment and while it’s able to charge my phone, it’s starting to fray and I’m not feeling too good about the wires that I’m starting to see hahaha. I just don’t know how to take care of my cables, guys. Anyway, this question made me paranoid so I took a few minutes to wrap a shit ton of electrical tape on the frayed area so I think it’s all good for now.

Are you excited to pick out your wedding dress one day? I like thinking about my wedding but I truthfully dread the wedding gown part. I’ve never been able to decide what look and style suits me best and I’ve just never been good at determining things like that. I like to imagine that I’d leave that bit to whoever my maid of honor will be, because I’d definitely prize a second opinion more than my own.

When was the last time you felt relieved? Yesterday, 6 PM when I exited the last Google Meet for the day. It was a Friday night and it meant my work week was over :)) I mean I love what I do, but Friday nights will always hit differently.

Does it bother you when an artist remakes a song that one has previously done? I wouldn’t say it bothers me but covers are definitely a hit or miss for me, with way more misses than hits. Nothing wrong with acts putting their own spin on an already existing song, but I’m personally the “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it” type when it comes to music.

What brand of chapstick do you use? I don’t use any mainly because I’m bound to lose them within a week. Same goes for other care products.

Do you really think someone could be perfect? No. Everyone has their flaws and that should be okay to acknowledge.

When was the last time you cried? Wednesday, I think. It’s been three days! I’d count that as an achievement. But idk, my sadness comes in waves so I shouldn’t be celebrating too early. I’m sure I’ll feel a pang soon and be crying again over the weekend.

What’s a food that you like every once in awhile but not often? Cake. Too sweet and rich; I wouldn’t enjoy eating it every day. What letter is the song you’re listening to under? Not listening to music, but I have a YouTube video on.

Would you rather visit the 60s or 70s? 60s would be the lesser evil, I guess. I would NOT want to live through Martial Law in the 70s...I originally wasn’t even going to go with 60s because I think the world was a bit chaotic at the time, but I think my country was mostly unaffected by the political/cultural things happening then so it’s whatever.

Are you the type of person that enjoys getting hugs? I don’t actively seek them out but it feels nice when someone likes me enough to extend their arms out to me for a hug. I haven’t been hugged for a while and I feel kinda empty.

Do your socks say anything on them? I think some of my socks have the brand name on them but that’s it.

Name a TV channel that only has three letters in it. AMC.

Have you found out who your true friends are? For now, yes.

Gray or Grey? I use both spellings for no particular context. I simply like changing it up lol.

Will you be buying concert tickets any time soon? LOL of course not. And I’m very picky when it comes to concerts that I choose to attend anyway, so I doubt I would’ve bought any tickets in the last six months even without Covid unless it was for Paramore or Beyoncé.

Have you seen the movie The Perks of Being a Wallflower? Did you like it? Nope, but everyone was hyping that movie up when it came out. It never really looked like my thing < Yeah pretty much. I feel like it’s such a teenage-y movie so I was never drawn to it. I also think it would be too triggering for my depression, so I’ve felt wary about checking both book and movie out.

Is there something you’d fall apart if you didn’t have? One of my biggest fears is to end up alone, so I always have to have some form of a support system to fall back into. I would be very lost if I didn’t have at least one person to rely on.

How many weddings have you been to? I can think of four off the top of my head. I was either a flower girl or a junior bridesmaid for all of those.

When you smile, are you confident? Most times I am; I like to smile. But sometimes I smile just to fake it and avoid any questions.

Have you ever not done something because you were afraid of getting in trouble? Yesss, all the time. I’ve always been all about following the rules and I’ve never seen the appeal in breaking them. That makes me sound boring but at least I’ve never gotten in serious trouble lol.

Was the weather beautiful today? For me it is, but only because I like the rain and cloudy weather. Others might find it bleak and sad, but I feel right at home.

Do you have to have a fan on when you sleep? Yeah, all year long.

Would you rather have an orange, red or gray bedroom? If I had my dream modern/brutalist home, grey would be soooo fucking perfect for the bedroom.

Would you ever dye part of your hair blue? I’m open to it, but I don’t think it’ll be a good match for my black hair as both are darker shades as it is. If I could dye my hair I’d pick lighter colors like green or even go all the way to blonde.

Have you ever gone to a private school? Yeah, from kindergarten all the way to high school. Private schools here typically give a better quality of education and they don’t give off the for-lazy-spoiled-kids vibe that I always hear from private schools in other countries, which makes them the norm for middle and upper-middle class families.

Is Finding Nemo a favorite movie of yours? I have other favorite animated movies, but that doesn’t stop me from loving Finding Nemo. :) I would always tune in for the whole thing if it were on.

Does/Did your school have a uniform? I had to wear one in my first school, but I didn’t need one for college.

Turn on the TV. What channel are you on? No TV where I am. I think my parents are watching a movie on their TV, but it’s on Netflix rather than a channel.

Does your house have security cameras? It does not.

Does a popsicle sound good right now? Eh, I guess it sounds fine but I’d rather have a pint of ice cream. I think that fits better with the weather and the mood that I’m in today.

What’s your favorite exercise workout? My weight training class last year was a lot of fun. I always felt dead after every session haha but I definitely felt healthier. I wish the semester had gone on longer just for that one class.

What’s your favorite thing to do? Lol I love doing many different things < Same lmao this question is so vague??? My favorite thing to do these days is binge-watch Rhett and Link content, but I like doing so many other things too.

What did you do for your 17th birthday? I was with Gabie that day and we went to a local art museum, as well as to a restaurant that she had wanted to take me to.

Does your local Walmart have benches in them to rest? We don’t have Walmarts.

Was your favorite stuffed animal really a teddy bear growing up? I never had stuffed animals. Well I was given a few of them as gifts, but I was never into them and they always ended up being owned by my sister.

If your house was haunted, what would you do? Not even think about it. Just show them that I couldn’t care less, lol.

Are you good at swimming? I can do a few strokes and am pretty good at treading, but I'm prone to panic-kicking when I can tell that the water is too deep.

What’s worse: Slow internet or slow walkers? Slow internet is such a pain in the ass. Shouldn’t even have to be an issue in 2020 anymore.

What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? Cat-called, whistled at, winked at, lunged at. One good thing about this lockdown is that I haven’t had to deal with men as much as I used to. Do you sleep with the sheets tucked in or out? Well I only have one layer of bedsheet and it’s the one that covers up the mattress, so it’s tucked in by default. I have a blanket to cover me up when I’m cold.

What do you do to fall asleep faster? I find a few videos to watch as that tends to make me feel sleepy the quickest.

Do you carry a bottle of water wherever you go? I used to have a tumbler/water bottle in college but I forgot it at the gym one day and when I came back for it, somebody already stole it :( It was such a handy water bottle because it kept my water cold all day, so it sucks that I lost it. I’m planning to buy the same model again soon.

Are you afraid that one day you might get cancer? It doesn’t really run in my family save for one grand-aunt who had cancer, so I’m not too worried. But I’ve accepted the fact that it is at least a possibility.

Are you a fast or slow walker? I like being in the middle. Slow walkers are annoying so I try not to be one, and walking fast just reminds me of my mom and how quickly she walks at malls when she’s supposed to be spending time with her family lol.

Do you usually have to wear a belt with your pants? No. They all fit me just fine.

Does it bother you when people’s underwear hangs out? Eghhh, it really does. I know it shouldn’t but it really does. I just feel like it’s so invasive and it gives me a lot of secondhand embarassment.

Are you usually the person to try new things with your hair? Not really. I like staying safe with my hair. The most daring thing I’ve done with it is get bangs tbh, and I don’t plan on going any further than that.

When’s your birthday? April 21st.

What age do you look forward to reaching? I don’t feel that way about any age. Whenever I reach ultimate satisfaction and security will be a good enough age for me.

Name a state that begins with the letter M. Minnesota.

What’s the first thing you do after a car accident? Think about how to tell my parents. D:

What do you use to get rid of bad breath? Brush my teeth, drink water.

What exercise do you hate the most? Pull-ups.

What do you do at a party? Drink, socialize, tell stories, eat allllllll the food ha.

#survey #surveys

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thisartemisnevermisses · 5 years

Text

Going Under 7/-

Going Under

Paring: Mostly Steve Rogers x Reader; little Clint Barton x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, out of character acting, probable smutt in later chapters, sad reader, broken, sweet ending.

Summary: You work as head oversight for the Avengers. After a party and a little kiss, you start crushing on Steve. Only an event from you’re rookie years, is sabotaging the possibility of your crush to evovle into something more.

A/N: Thanks for all your likes, it’s great to recieve them! @collinsstanharbour thanks for you comments on all the chapters. Well, I thouhgt chapter 6 was long, but guess again…Almost 3100 words…. The story is evolving and soon we will arrive at the point of present time and then…

Chapter 7: Imperfection

With one swift movement you stand up, surprising the two man. Bucky and Steve look at you, you stare wide-eyed at Steve. “For how long have you been sitting there?” you ask. Steve looks dazed at you, it took a moment to register you were standing, facing him. He was stammering a reply, impatience gets the best of you and fire another question at him.

“What the fuck are you doing here. Were you eavesdropping?” Steve still lookes shocked at you, not answering your question. You cross your arms and glare at him.

“No, uh, I don't..... well.” Steve stammers, scratching the back of his neck, a red blush coloured all over his face. He has never felt so caught, out of place or guilty, a rush of emotions take over, when the guilt finally wins. Hearing your story so far makes him feel stupid and naive. He should have known better, then to believe the lies they told him.

“Well what is IT?” cocking an eyebrow, still standing defensively, starting to tap you fingers on your arm. Steve feels nervous, as if he was on trail. Exhaling deeply, he answers “Yes, I was listening to what you were telling bucky..Its just.. I wanted...”

“For how long?” you ask, shifting your weight. “How long, Steve?” draging the V in his name. “When you told Bucky about you and Clint.” Steve looks a little guilty at you. How could he let you know he was willing to listen. He was an idiot for taking so long. For doubting you, for not asking your side of the story. He let you down and know he had the price to pay. He was willing to, as long as you started trusting him again.

“y/n, I saw your reaction in the meeting. I realised it too late. But if all off it where true, you wouldn't look the way, you were sitting in that chair.” Looking at you, trying to make eye-contact, read your emotions. How he hoped you two would reconnect. He was such a fool for letting all those lies separate you two.

“How did I look Steve?” your voice cynical and thick with emotions. Steve starts walking towards you, with every step he takes, a characterization leaves his mouth. His eyes full of emotions and regret. With every word he speaks, your wall crumbles a little further. Stopping in front of you, he looks you in the eyes, resting his hands on your locked arms. “I’m sorry it had to get so far, before I realised your the person I always though you were. Not the person people trying to let me believe you are. Y/N, I was a fool for letting things as rumours and doubt smutter the relation we could have.” Steve tightens his grip on you, searching your eyes, do you understand what he’s trying to say. Speaking these relieving words, break you. You start sobbing uncontrollably, Bucky was the first person to hear you out, and as it turned out, Steve had listened all this time. He finally realised his mistake. Steve took you in his arms, hugging you tightly, stroking your hair. “y/n it’s okay, I want to hear the rest of your story. Lets figure this out. Make and end in all these misunderstanding. What was the next thing you wanted to tell Bucky.” Steve lets go of you and sits opposite from you. “I'm here till the end.” he tells you acknowledging.

Drying your eyes with your sleeve, you swallow and answer with a raspy voice, “The mission, I wanted to tell Bucky about the mission. Especially the one that went wrong.”

Sitting at the bar, you listen to the music, it was just as depressing as you felt. Ordering another drink you repeat the steps in your head. For this mission you went into hyperdrive, overanalyzed the situation. Making two alternatief plans, to have as low collateral as possible. What went wrong. How could there be so much collateral, killing three civilians. There had to be a reason, the Avengers trusted you and your team. Following your plan and advise. And still things went awry. You didn't get it. Where did it go wrong?

----------- A few hours earlier-----------

“Overwatch, there to many people around us, we can’t solve this. Not without killing a few innocent people.” Natasha spoke through the communicator.

“Romanov, we don’t see what you see, is something wrong with the drone?” Lexi asked.

“No, all green lights are on, camera is moving with us.” Natasha answered.

“Owen, look at the dashboard. Make sure every cable and bud is as they should be.” You ordered him, pacing through the room. After the Avengers touched ground, nothing went as planned. For days there weren’t any civilians in sight and now there were. It looked like someone was forcing these people to be there.

“Captain, are you inside?” you asked Steve. “We’re inside, Wanda, Falcon take the second floor, Hawkeye the third. Be careful, let us know when you see Rumlow. Don’t engage, wait till Agent Carter and I are with you. Overwatch guide us.” Steve commands, waiting for your answer.

“We will activate the minidrones, Wanda, your drone is connected with Lexi, she will guide you and be you’re extra pair off eyes. Falcon, Callie’s drone comes with you. Avery, go with Hawkeye, keep you’re eyes open. Captain, my drone will come with you and Agent Carter. Be careful, I do not know how, but there’s something off.” You reply, what was going on.

“y/n, what do you see?” Lexi asks, looking at you. “I see nothing out of the ordinary, but it just doesn't seem right.” You comply.

“Overwatch, do you hear that?” Sam and Steve ask at the same time. “Hear what?” Callie ask. “That high….” before Sam can finish the sentence there’s a big explosion. Your drones go offline and the earpiece of Clint, Wanda, Sam and Sharon go offline. The only persons you’re connected to were Natasha and Steve. “Captain, Agent Romanov, do you copy?” asking frantically, what the fuck did just happen?

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

Laughs interrupted your thoughts. Looking at the couple on your left, you smile sadly to yourself. It would be nice to have someone on your side. Where you to much focused on Steve? You divided your attention evenly over the team that was in the mission. You could separate emotion from work. It was time to stop the self loathing and act like a teamleader. Drinking you’re glass empty, you decide to go back to the compound and start analyzing the mission, hopefully you could pinpoint the problem.

Entering the communications room, you see Lexi and Owen filling the papers. “He you, your back?” Lexi asks half smiling. You nod and sit at your desk.

“Owen, could you run diagnostics and e-mail them as soon as the’re ready? Lexi, I would like the calculation of the colleteral. Where are Callie and Avery?” asking the both of them while looking at your screen.

“y/n, it’s late, you’re sure you want to do this now?” Owen ask, concern al over his face. The last time he saw you like this, was when you started at the beta team.

Looking at Owen, determination in your eyes, “Yes, I want to start analyzing now. I know you’re tired. We’ve all participated in the same mission, I’m too. But as soon as you have run diagnostics you can go too sleep. I need the numbers. Where are Callie and Avery?” asking irritated you look at Lexi and Owen.

“Avery is downstairs in medbay and Callie is resting. Within two hours she will switch with me. We figured, you would want to start with analyzing as soon as possible.” Lexi glances at you, you smile back “Thank you” leaves soft your lips.

What a team, even when you had a mental breakdown, they would think with you, take the shit you throw at them. “That’s why where a team, we will find the problem y/n.” Owen says walking towards you. “So head up, boss, you’re going to figure it out.” Owen squeezes your shoulder. Letting out a loud breath, “I will, I will figure it out.”

“Well, there are a few injured within the Avengers. Wanda has a concussion, Clint a few flesh wounds and one deep cut on his side and Sam has a head wound that needs to be stitched. Steve, Sharon and Natasha have mild injuries.” Avery says while walking in, he stops in his tracks when he sees you. He squats beside you, looking you in the eye, “You did everything you could, do not blame yourself, don't carry that burden. There is something wrong. You did everything wright and were going to prove that.”Avery encourages you, you feel your eyes water. “We will” you chocke and turn back to analyzing this mission.

Hours and hours pass as you go through papers, plans and even video footage, but can't find a thing. The team takes turns sleeping, so that they can keep analyzing with you, but are to tired to go on at some point. It’s 7 in the morning when you stand alone between all the papers lay out. You lay your hands on top of your head, you can’t see it,

can't pinpoint the problem. Where the fuck did it go wrong. Where was the flaw. Deciding to grab another cup of coffee, you see a figure standing in the doorway. Turning on the lights, you see Steve standing, staring at you.

“How long have you been analyzing?” He asks, looking concerned at you. “As soon as I got back, I needed a break.” You answer not looking at him, starting to read the report for the twentieth time.

“You need sleep, you’re almost up for 24 hours.” He walks towards you, standing close, eyeing you. “What do you think?” you ask while rummaging through papers.

“I don’t know, maybe someone sabotaged this, I couldn’t think who would do that. Seeing you did everything you could, I mean it wouldn’t be wise to….” Steve stops when he sees the look in your eyes, he did it again.

“You think I sabotaged this, that I didn't do my job.” You angry interrupt Steve.

“That’s not how I meant it.” he answers standing before you. “But it’s what you mean. We're done here.” walking away from Steve, you need to sleep. Stopping in the doorway, “I need to close the office, so get out.” You snap at Steve.

“y/n, don’t be that way.” Steve pleas. “I don’t need to talk about it, as I said we're done. Captain Rogers, please go, I want to sleep.” You motion for Steve to come out of the office.

He stops in front of you, looking you in the eyes, pleading for reasoning with him. But you look away, you don’t want to discuss this with him. Feeling offended by the thought you would sabotage a mission, take it for granted that people where killed.

“y/n, I didn’t mean it that way.” Steve says one last time, his eyes soft and searching for yours. “I’m going to sleep, Captain Rogers.” You say locking the office and walking away. “y/n, wait.” Steve shouts after you, jogging your way, once he’s caught up with you, he walks beside you. Trying to continue the argument, you stop seeing agent Carter approaching you. “Steve, let me go sleep, I’m to tired now. As soon as I’ve found something, I will contact you.”

Sharon captures the last part of your conversation, deciding to join your discussion, “Come on Steve, they did the best as they could, right?” making a snarky comment.

“I think I misunderstood you, I must be so tired, that I misunderstood you. What you mean by the best we could?” You ask, starting to shake with anger.

“You know how to use all the equipment or not. Maybe Fury overestimated your qualities as a teamleader.” Sharon smiling mockingly at you. “I think, it would be wise to let me talk to Captain Rogers alone.” Emphasizing the alone part, while trying to capture your boiling anger within your fist.

“Alone, what so you can convince him with your other qualities.” She says eyeing you, quirking an eyebrow. “Well, not that it is any of your business, but were thinking about sabotage. There’s no other option, seen that every analyzation came out positive.” You say, looking for a reaction. For a second it looked like Sharon was nervous and would come clean with something, but she recovered quickly and made a cynical comment, before walking away, “If you tell yourself this as redemption, maybe you should just accept the fact that you didn’t prep this mission as you should and failed the team.”

“Go fuck yourself. I’m going to sleep”, you yell after her, deciding your too tired and start walking towards your room. Finally reaching your room, you hear footsteps following you.

“y/n, damn it, stop. Could you just listen to me.” Steve had followed you. “What do you want now, Rogers, I’m tired, i need to clear my head and get some sleep. The problem won't solve itself.” crossing your arms, looking agitated at Steve.

“One minute,” you warn him, tapping your arm impatiently. “Okay, I wasn’t blaming you, or saying you sabotaged the mission. It feels like someone altered the conditions. Or the conditions changed during your research. I don't know, but it doesn't feel right. Somethings off." Steve explained, looking at you, trying to read your expression.

" I don't know, but the conditions didn't changed during our research. That's one thing I know for sure." answering him, trying to stifle a yawn. “You're sure about that?” Steve said, regretting his words as soon as they left his Lips.

"You're an ass you know that. So full of yourself. You really think that I would check the conditions ones and then take that for granted. We checked the conditions daily, until you started the mission. You really think I gained my level 9 clearance with doing nothing. Just part of my job..you can.....”

Steve slams his lips against yours, pushing you into the wall. ”Would you just shut up”, he hissed between kisses. He opens the door behind you, entering the bedroom, not once leaving your lips. Kissing you sloppy, teeth and noses colliding.

When the door closes, he captures you between the door and him. He stops for a moment, looking into your eyes, searching, is he the only one who wants this. Arguing with him, made him want you even more. For a moment insecurity gets the best of him. Your face cupped in his hands, you look at him, trying to read his face. His eyes were stormy and dark, something you weren’t used from the super soldier.

“Steve, I..” you start, he covers your mouth with another hungry kiss. Responding immediately, resting your arms in his neck. Likking your bottomlip for entrance, you open your mouth with a low moan. His body hard against yours. God, how he wanted this for so long. At the party he made a mistake, he won't do that again. It was foolish to apologize for being attracted to you. It was torture working with you, being so close, without being able to touch you. His hands rome over your body, one hand stopping at the small of your back, the other resting in the hem of your neck.

“y/n” he whispers against your lips, breathing heavy against your mouth. “I wasn’t accusing you of sabotaging, anything, nor judging your skills as analyzer," Steve pants his head resting against yours.

Sighed you walk away from Steve, “You had to ruin the moment, didn’t you.” Steve turns, his hands on his hips, “What do you mean by that?” he looks at you, still recovering from your makeout session. “What I mean is..” You get interrupted with a knock on the door. “y/n, you in there? Are you sleeping?” Lexi asks.

“I was Lexi,” you lie, questioningly looking at Steve, mouthing a what towards him.

“Something came to my mind, I wanted to check it with you.” She says against the door. “I’ll be with you in five. You can go to the office, I will join you. I need to get dressed.” You lie again. Once you hear Lexi’s footsteps receding, you turn towards Steve.

“It’s time you get out,” walking towards your door, opening it for Steve. “y/n,” Steve sighs, “lets talk about all of this, what’s happening between us. Come on, don’t do this.” Steve raises his hands in frustration.

“I’m not doing, anything, you’re doing it. So there you go, go think about it and make a fucking decision.” As if your voice isn’t showing how angry you are, you slam the door in Steve’s face. You stare for a moment at the door, touching your red, swollen lips. What were you doing, was it in the heat of the moment? Either way it felt so good.

Bucky looked at the both of you, a crimson blush on both of your faces. That kiss was full of frustration and need. If you hadn’t been interrupted by Callie, who knows what would have happened. Maybe you would have had the greatest sex and things wouldn’t have turned out this way.

“What did Callie find?” Steve asks you, he still had the feeling that something was off and it wasn’t only this mission. He had the feeling that it was part of a bigger picture.

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ashandboneca · 5 years

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Leaving Covens

There are so many articles about building covens, being in covens, working with covens - but fewer about leaving or dissolving a coven. I know that in some cases the latter can be painful or difficult to talk about, but I think it's important to discuss nonetheless.

I have been involved in 3 covens in my witchy career. I left all 3 of my own volition, for different reasons:

The first I left because I was moving to a different city, and this was before there were online covens. It was the coven that initiated me and dedicated me. The high priestess moved and the coven met rarely, only when she came back to visit. When I moved away as well, the coven opted to discontinue, but all of us remain friends. Our paths have taken us many different places, but we all have that initial connection in common.

The second was a small coven, and disbanded due to schedules - it was almost impossible to find a consistent time to meet, and we all decided to go our separate ways. We lived on opposite ends of the city, and we all had varying work schedules and none of us had a vehicle. After months of trying to schedule meetings and rituals, we all determine that the coven was not viable at that time.

The third was due to communication breakdown and conflict that severed the ties between the members. This I will not go into much detail about - mostly because I don't think it's fair to air dirty laundry in a public way, but also because while I may dislike some of the previous coven members, I do hold my oaths seriously and believe they are entitled to their privacy.

There are a wide gamut of reasons why people leave a coven - abuse, scheduling issues, relationship/marital breakdown, change of path, branching off to form own coven, relocation, forced/asked to leave, etc. Like any other social group, there are complex dynamics at play. I have always viewed almost all covens having an expiry date - it could be weeks, months, years, decades. Eventually, though, there will be an ending. It is the natural way of things. Birth, life, death. Natural cycles.

When you are a part of a coven, it is work. It can be incredibly rewarding, but it can also be incredibly draining. You are working in trust with the other members. You are creating magic and change, you are supporting one another. It's not all glamour and glitz - there is all the mundane stuff that goes along with it - who is hosting, who is working what ritual, who is bringing the ram skull, etc. I think some people can go into a coven experience thinking it's going to be just like The Craft, and they're clearly the Sarah of the group.

It is not like that at all. Covens involve humans, and humans have emotions and conflicts. Some are ill, some are contrary to a fault. Some are power hungry. Some are too giving. Some too lazy. Covens are as flawed as the people within it, and that can lead to any of the aforementioned scenarios that would cause someone to leave. Some people leave in a big way. Sometimes one person leaves and everything crumbles. Sometimes people leave in a quiet way. Sometimes one person leaves, and the rest continue on.

What people fail to pay attention to is the debriefing process. By that, I mean what actually happens after you have left. Everyone gets caught up in the moment, it's hard to look past that to the near future. There are a few rules of thumb I think are prudent in these situations:

Did you swear any oaths binding you to other members of the coven? If so, you need to address those oaths in a way that will sever you from the coven itself. You need to make your energy yours again. Whether you work that out with your former coven or not (and if you can, you should), it should be the first thing you take care of.

Be sure to take any and all personal property with you when you leave.

Ensure to take time to address your spiritual bonds with your spirits and gods. I usually recommend a cleansing (smoke or bath) followed up by an informal recommitment ritual. Addressing your needs is important, and can be helpful in the decompression process. Even if you leave on great terms, you still need to take care of yourself.

Know that any and all secrets, oaths, and words shared while in the coven are sacred- meaning, you should not be telling other's secrets or using any of that information as fuel for any 'retribution'. You should not be gossiping about any other member's business. It's disrespectful to yourself, your former coven, and whatever gods or spirits you swore your oaths to. I don't care how juicy or how you think it will make you look - DON'T. The only exception to this rule is with actual physical, mental, or sexual abuse, and any of that involving minors. That should be reported to the police. (I am talking actual abuse, not hurt feelings or perceived victimhood. Actual abuse that can cause long lasting actual and possibly irreparable harm.)

Don't "take revenge" on members of your former coven. I know that if you leave on bad terms, and there are a lot of hurt feelings, it can seem tempting. Don't. It's childish and unbecoming. Move on with your life with lessons learned, and allow them to do the same. You'll all be better for it.

Covens are a learning experience, and you should take any experience with them after leaving (good or bad) as a lesson. You learn a lot about yourself when you work in close proximity with other people, and those lessons can be a powerful force moving forward in your life. I look at it like a resume - you have had good and bad jobs, but you learned something (theoretically) in each of those jobs that can be applied to the next job, or other areas of your life. Working in covens is no different, and leaving a coven does not have to be forever traumatic or bitter.

At this point in my life, I am done with coven work. I am not currently involved in any kind of coven structure. My spouse and I have a small hearth we work together on, and we have several people we meet up with to celebrate and mark seasons, but most of our practice has become familial. I have taken my experience with working in the 3 groups I have been in, and molded it into something useful. I know what I enjoyed about working in a coven, and I know what I disliked about it. Like any other kind of group I have worked in, there have been some wonderful things, and there have been some terrible things. They all kind of even out.

#ash and bone #ashandbone.ca #witchcraft #traditional witchcraft #heathenry #the crooked path

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theadmiringbog · 4 years

Photo

I had a fragile but agreeable life: a job as an assistant at a small literary agency in Manhattan; a smattering of beloved friends on whom I exercised my social anxiety, primarily by avoiding them.

I wanted to make money, because I wanted to feel affirmed, confident, and valued. I wanted to be taken seriously. Mostly, I didn’t want anyone to worry about me.

Conversation with the cofounders had been so easy, and the interviews so much more like coffee dates than the formal, sweaty-blazer interrogations I had experienced elsewhere, that at a certain point I wondered if maybe the three of them just wanted to hang out.

They wore shirts that were always crisp and modestly buttoned to the clavicle. They were in long-term relationships with high-functioning women, women with great hair with whom they exercised and shared meals at restaurants that required reservations. They lived in one-bedroom apartments in downtown Manhattan and had no apparent need for psychotherapy. They shared a vision and a game plan. They weren’t ashamed to talk about it, weren’t ashamed to be openly ambitious. Fresh off impressive positions and prestigious summer internships at large tech corporations in the Bay Area, they spoke about their work like industry veterans, lifelong company men. They were generous with their unsolicited business advice, as though they hadn’t just worked someplace for a year or two but built storied careers. They were aspirational. I wanted, so much, to be like—and liked by—them.

It was thrilling to watch the moving parts of a business come together; to feel that I could contribute.

What I also did not understand at the time was that the founders had all hoped I would make my own job, without deliberate instruction. The mark of a hustler, a true entrepreneurial spirit, was creating the job that you wanted and making it look indispensable, even if it was institutionally unnecessary.

I wasn’t used to having the sort of professional license and latitude that the founders were given. I lacked their confidence, their entitlement. I did not know about startup maxims to experiment and “own” things. I had never heard the common tech incantation Ask forgiveness, not permission.

I had also been spoiled by the speed and open-mindedness of the tech industry, the optimism and sense of possibility. In publishing, no one I knew was ever celebrating a promotion. Nobody my age was excited about what might come next. Tech, by comparison, promised what so few industries or institutions could, at the time: a future.

“How would you explain the tool to your grandmother?” “How would you describe the internet to a medieval farmer?” asked the sales engineer, opening and closing the pearl snaps on his shirt,

Good interface design was like magic, or religion:

The first time I looked at a block of code and understood what was happening, I felt like nothing less than a genius.

Anything an app or website’s users did—tap a button, take a photograph, send a payment, swipe right, enter text—could be recorded in real time, stored, aggregated, and analyzed in those beautiful dashboards. Whenever I explained it to friends, I sounded like a podcast ad.

four-person companies trying to gamify human resources

... how rare the analytics startup was. Ninety-five percent of startups tanked. We weren’t just beating the odds; we were soaring past them.

While I usually spent sleepless nights staring at the ceiling and worrying about my loved ones’ mortality, he worked on programming side projects. Sometimes he just passed the time between midnight and noon playing a long-haul trucking simulator. It was calming, he said. There was a digital CB radio through which he could communicate with other players. I pictured him whispering into it in the dark.

At the start of each meeting, the operations manager distributed packets containing metrics and updates from across the company: sales numbers, new signups, deals closed. We were all privy to high-level details and minutiae, from the names and progress of job candidates to projected revenue. This panoramic view of the business meant individual contributions were noticeable; it felt good to identify and measure our impact.

Was this what it felt like to hurtle through the world in a state of pure confidence, I wondered, pressing my fingers to my temples—was this what it was like to be a man?

I was interested in talking about empathy, a buzzword used to the point of pure abstraction,

The hierarchy was pervasive at the analytics startup, ingrained in the CEO’s dismissal of marketing and insistence that a good product would sell itself.

He just taught himself to code over the summer, I heard myself say of a job candidate one afternoon. It floated out of my mouth with the awe of someone relaying a miracle.

As early employees, we were dangerous. We had experienced an early, more autonomous, unsustainable iteration of the company. We had known it before there were rules. We knew too much about how things worked, and harbored nostalgia and affection for the way things were.

The obsession with meritocracy had always been suspect at a prominent international company that was overwhelmingly white, male, and American, and had fewer than fifteen women in Engineering.

For years, my coworkers explained, the absence of an official org chart had given rise to a secondary, shadow org chart, determined by social relationships and proximity to the founders. Employees who were technically rank-and-file had executive-level power and leverage. Those with the ear of the CEO could influence hiring decisions, internal policies, and the reputational standing of their colleagues. “Flat structure, except for pay and responsibilities,” said an internal tools developer, rolling her eyes. “It’s probably easier to be a furry at this company than a woman.”

“It’s like no one even read ‘The Tyranny of Structurelessness,’” said an engineer who had recently read “The Tyranny of Structurelessness.”

Can’t get sexually harassed when you work remotely, we joked, though of course we were wrong.

I was in a million places at once. My mind pooled with strangers’ ideas, each joke or observation or damning polemic as distracting and ephemeral as the next. It wasn’t just me. Everyone I knew was stuck in a feedback loop with themselves. Technology companies stood by, ready to become everyone’s library, memory, personality. I read whatever the other nodes in my social networks were reading. I listened to whatever music the algorithm told me to. Wherever I traveled on the internet, I saw my own data reflected back at me: if a jade face-roller stalked me from news site to news site, I was reminded of my red skin and passive vanity. If the personalized playlists were full of sad singer-songwriters, I could only blame myself for getting the algorithm depressed.

As we left the theater in pursuit of a hamburger, I felt rising frustration and resentment. I was frustrated because I felt stuck, and I was resentful because I was stuck in an industry that was chipping away at so many things I cared about. I did not want to be an ingrate, but I had trouble seeing why writing support emails for a venture-funded startup should offer more economic stability and reward than creative work or civic contributions. None of this was new information—and it was not as if tech had disrupted a golden age of well-compensated artists—but I felt it fresh.

I had never really considered myself someone with a lifestyle, but of course I was, and insofar as I was aware of one now, I liked it. The tech industry was making me a perfect consumer of the world it was creating. It wasn’t just about leisure, the easy access to nice food and private transportation and abundant personal entertainment. It was the work culture, too: what Silicon Valley got right, how it felt to be there. The energy of being surrounded by people who so easily articulated, and satisfied, their desires. The feeling that everything was just within reach.

We wanted to be on the side of human rights, free speech and free expression, creativity and equality. At the same time, it was an international platform, and who among us could have articulated a coherent stance on international human rights? We sat in our apartments tapping on laptops purchased from a consumer-hardware company that touted workplace tenets of diversity and liberalism but manufactured its products in exploitative Chinese factories using copper and cobalt mined in Congo by children. We were all from North America. We were all white, and in our twenties and thirties. These were not individual moral failings, but they didn’t help. We were aware we had blind spots. They were still blind spots. We struggled to draw the lines. We tried to distinguish between a political act and a political view; between praise of violent people and praise of violence; between commentary and intention. We tried to decipher trolls’ tactical irony. We made mistakes.

I did not want two Silicon Valleys. I was starting to think the one we already had was doing enough damage. Or, maybe I did want two, but only if the second one was completely different, an evil twin: Matriarchal Silicon Valley. Separatist-feminist Silicon Valley. Small-scale, well-researched, slow-motion, regulated Silicon Valley—men could hold leadership roles in that one, but only if they never used the word “blitzscale” or referred to business as war.

“Progress is so unusual and so rare, and we’re all out hunting, trying to find El Dorado,” Patrick said.

“Almost everyone’s going to return empty-handed. Sober, responsible adults aren’t going to quit their jobs and lives to build companies that, in the end, may not even be worth it. It requires, in a visceral way, a sort of self-sacrificing.”

Only later did I consider that he might have been trying to tell me something.

Abuses were considered edge cases, on the margin—flaws that could be corrected by spam filters, or content moderators, or self-regulation by unpaid community members. No one wanted to admit that abuses were structurally inevitable: indicators that the systems—optimized for stickiness and amplification, endless engagement—were not only healthy, but working exactly as designed.

The SF Bay Area is like Rome or Athens in antiquity, posted a VC. Send your best scholars, learn from the masters and meet the other most eminent people in your generation, and then return home with the knowledge and networks you need. Did they know people could see them?

I couldn’t imagine making millions of dollars every year, then choosing to spend my time stirring shit on social media. There was almost a pathos to their internet addiction. Log off, I thought. Just email each other.

All these people, spending their twenties and thirties in open-plan offices on the campuses of the decade’s most valuable public companies, pouring themselves bowls of free cereal from human bird feeders, crushing empty cans of fruit-tinged water, bored out of their minds but unable to walk away from the direct deposits—it was so unimaginative. There was so much potential in Silicon Valley, and so much of it just pooled around ad tech, the spillway of the internet economy.

Though I did not want what Patrick and his friends wanted, there was still something appealing to me about the lives they had chosen. I envied their focus, their commitment, their ability to know what they wanted, and to say it out loud—the same things I always envied.

I wanted to believe that as generations turned over, those coming into economic and political power would build a different, better, more expansive world, and not just for people like themselves. Later, I would mourn these conceits. Not only because this version of the future was constitutionally impossible—such arbitrary and unaccountable power was, after all, the problem—but also because I was repeating myself. I was looking for stories; I should have seen a system. The young men of Silicon Valley were doing fine. They loved their industry, loved their work, loved solving problems. They had no qualms. They were builders by nature, or so they believed. They saw markets in everything, and only opportunities. They had inexorable faith in their own ideas and their own potential. They were ecstatic about the future. They had power, wealth, and control. The person with the yearning was me.

could have stayed in my job forever, which was how I knew it was time to go. The money and the ease of the lifestyle weren’t enough to mitigate the emotional drag of the work: the burnout, the repetition, the intermittent toxicity. The days did not feel distinct. I felt a widening emptiness, rattling around my studio every morning, rotating in my desk chair. I had the luxury, if not the courage, to do something about it.

As I stood in the guest entrance, waiting for the stock plan administrator to collect the paperwork, I watched my former coworkers chatting happily with one another in the on-site coffee shop and felt, wrenchingly, that leaving had been a huge mistake. Certain unflattering truths: I had felt unassailable behind the walls of power. Society was shifting, and I felt safer inside the empire, inside the machine. It was preferable to be on the side that did the watching than on the side being watched.

#uncanny valley #books #best of

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cao-the-dreamer · 5 years

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Sweet child o’ mine: Who am I, who are they

I wasn’t patient enough to wait for someone to beta-read this chapter, so forgive me if there are any mistake. But I’m so glad I finally finished it!

Time for Optimus to give Nebula a clue about her past…

Enjoy!

(You can read it on Ao3 or Fanfiction if you prefer)

The first time he meets her, he cannot help but think how similar and yet how different she is compared to her creators.

Optimus Prime is standing in front of a wooden house — a cabin, according to Bumblebee — which blends in between the broad and twilight-like trunks of the forest, where the young girl is hiding from the world.

They are a few miles away from the place his fellow Autobots currently are, trying to settle down on this foreign planet after their arrival a week ago.

Optimus knew that there was a chance he might come across her, the little one, the miracle child, but he hadn't expected her to be aware of her origins. Her eyes pierce through the darkness of the door frame, questioning, wary, ready to fall back into the shadows should he reveal himself as a threat.

But Bumblebee hums a soothing tune, gesturing with patience, willing to prove her that his leader means no harm.

The truck takes a step back, giving her space, before getting down on one knee, making himself smaller.

Electric blue dives into dim red.

“Take your time, little one,” his deep voice is a foreign sound amongst the forest's. “I will not force you to come out if you don't want to.”

Her eyes lower, avoiding his gaze.

“I'm sorry… I don't know who I should trust anymore.”

Before he can question the eerie statement, a dark hand comes forward, pointing at the yellow scout.

“You comforted my best friend, you protected her, you threw away her loneliness and gave her a sense to her life. I’m deeply grateful that you did so. But… those two titans who were eager to destroy my planet, and yet who treated me like a precious gem, they told me who I really am, they told me you took me away from a loving father.”

“More complicated… than that,” a feminine voice whispers from his radio.

“I know. That's why you told me to wait. To wait for someone who could properly explain me what happened.”

Her stare goes back to Optimus.

“And you came.”

Then she takes a step forward, she comes into the light, and for a brief moment the faces of her creators hide her own.

But soon the illusion is gone, because even if she has the same ruby eyes of her father and the same dark skin and round shape of her mother, she is not like them.

The rage eating the warlord from the inside out is absent from her eyes.

Her gaze is not determined like her mother's.

Her shoulders are hunched and her head lowered — it is so different from her parents who always stood proudly.

She is just tired. Tired, and alone again.

He can see she has gone through a lot. Optimus doesn't know why, but his spark begs him to lean forward and welcome the child within his arms, to give her some comfort. He suppresses the urge, knowing that such a brusque and invading gesture would scare the little one off.

He nods instead, explaining that it would be a long story to tell, for he has to dig deep into the roots of the Cybertronian society to explain how her parents came to be.

“Go ahead,” she shrugs as she brutally flops onto the stairs of the porch. “I have plenty of time for storytelling.”

He cannot help but ask if she is alright.

“Fine,” she grumbles.

Her tone is a clear indicator that she is not fine, but should Optimus press the matter, he has no clue.

He still doesn’t know a single thing about her. For now, they are strangers.

Maybe later… When they will be more comfortable around each other, maybe he will try to make her speak about her.

So he pushes the thought away and he kneels, the grass brushing his plating, and Bumblebee imitates him in a cross-legged position. Then his — soothing, she discovers with surprise — his soothing voice begins the tale of an old world.

“Cybertron once was a vast empire, with dozens and dozens of colonies implanted on several planets across the galaxy. Our leaders believed that our kind was above organic species; thus they never hesitate to wipe entire populations out if their homeworld’s soil was rich in resources — and the newly free space would be used to host the ever-growing Cybertronian population. We live for millennia, sometimes millions of years; back then the deaths did not compensate the newborns, which didn’t allow a balanced population growth. It seemed like our ruthless appetite was endlessly unsatisfied, despite the empire’s immense wealth.

“Cybertron was powerful, rich and feared, but that did not mean that Cybertronians were happy. Our society was framed by a rigid system of castes: according to the body and the alt-mode you were born with, you were labelled with the corresponding caste: the politicians, the military, the intellectuals, the entertainers, the merchants, the manual workers, the priests, and the outcasts, called “the strays”. Your cast dictated your profession for the rest of your life, no matter how misfit you could feel within it. You couldn’t have a Conjunx — what you humans would call a spouse — outside of your own cast. Every cast had to face prejudices and wariness from the other parts of society — which divided us, making it almost impossible to live as a community. And by the time I was online, the upper casts, politic and military, were heavily corrupted: bribes, favours and blackmails were common things.

“Before the war, my name was not Optimus Prime, but Orion Pax. I was a historian, from the cast of the intellectuals. My work was to study the Cybertronian archives and vulgarize their content for the general public. But it was more propaganda than an actual job: many times my books were returned to me, because it did not glorify enough the system. I never liked it, but I was too young to know how to write something that would satisfy the specification of the Council, and, at the same time, would give a clear insight of our past. The Council pretended that Cybertron was better now, and that the previous ages were uncivilized and dark periods of time, but I easily knew it was a blatant lie. Easy for me, since I had all the resources available to prove the absurdity of Functionalism — but I could not speak out loud, nor could any of my fellow Transformers, because whoever disapproved the Council was sidelined, banned, and sometimes killed. The atmosphere was of ignorance and fear, making it heavy and unbearable.

“And then, one day, a book appeared. The Council tried to remove it from the book stores and forbade its distribution, but by doing so they only increased the value of the novel, and it spread out in a small amount of time. Everyone wanted to know what was so special about this particular book (some people even downloaded it directly into their brain!), and I was curious too, so I looked for it. When I found it, I immediately became fascinated.

“It was simply called Dialogues. The story, beautifully written, was about a Cybertronian, who had died in an accident, and, as he waited in the Afterspark to be judged by Primus, our god, he came across a character called “the Stranger”. Who or what they were, the reader didn’t know, only that “they were not from here”. The Stranger asked the Transformer why he was crying, and he told them that all his life he had been miserable. Again the Stranger asked why, and as they comforted him, he told them his life. Gradually it became an explanation of the Cybertronian society, fueled by the remarks of the Stranger. The more the characters spoke, the more flaws of our world were pointed out. The mech explained that freedom was a foreign concept for him, and the Stranger was outraged to hear such a thing. They told him he was free to be himself, he ought to, actually, because everyone else was taken. It was the most touching part of the book: when the Cybertronian realised that he could hope, that he could dream. But then he asked what was the point in dreaming about a better life, if he was dead. And the Stranger pronounced an iconic sentence: “Because dreams occur when one is sleeping. It is time to wake up.” And he woke up in a hospital bed.”

For a fleeting moment, he stays silent, before speaking again:

“No wonder the Council tried to get rid of this book: it was an evident criticism of the very system they promoted. Whoever had written it had signed its own death warrant — but despite the Council’s investigations, they were never found. And the politicians were too late: the seeds of hope were sown. “It is time to wake up” became a forbidden motto, thrilling those who said it, thanks to someone who had been brave enough to shout that something was wrong.

“I wanted to meet this someone. I wanted to help them, I wanted to be part of this bravery. Thus I started to look for clues, anything that would lead me to them. I went all over the planet, I asked publishers and librarians who might have been in contact with this mysterious author. But none of them gave me an answer, denying the fact they had an acquaintance with them. I was about to give up, when a book seller from Kaon accosted me, and simply told me I should go to Zagoran.

“Zagoran is a desertic planet on the borderline of the Cybertronian Empire. It had been left untouched because it was only made of sand and barren mountains, making it “unworthy” of our leaders’ attention and unfit for Cybertronians to settle down. Only a few natives peacefully lived there, undisturbed by our expansionism.

“There were only two options. Either the book seller had given me a clue about the author's location, so I could meet them away from prying eyes; or it was a ruse from the Council, who might have noticed my researches about them, and maybe I was becoming too annoying, so they were trying to lure me away from Cybertron to kill me without any witness. But that last hypothesis was illogical: why send me on a faraway planet and waste resources in following me there, whereas there were people who easily disappeared every week? No, it was very likely that the place would lead me to the unknown writer.

“So I decided to go.”

The more he speaks, the more enthralled she becomes. It is as if Nebula can see the past through Orion Pax's eyes, and she beholds a world she doesn't know a thing about, yet who unfolds before her like the stage of a theatre.

She follows Orion Pax through his journey to Zagoran, can feel his excitement and his apprehension as his ship gets closer and closer to the planet and finally lands not far from a mountain massif.

The hot sand tickles her toes as he puts his feet on the ground. The tip of her tongue tastes the dry wind whistling around him, and she bites back a whine when the sun heating up his armour almost scorches her skin. But the sensation is quickly forgotten when he catches a glimpse of a shining object, standing at the base of a canyon.

The sun is reflecting on the plating of another Cybertronian, and Nebula is as curious as Orion about this stranger. A cloak is thrown around their shoulders, hiding their body, but everything about them is massive, and both travellers suddenly feel wary. They are even more anxious when the other robot beckons them to come closer before retreating into the canyon, but does Orion Pax have a choice? There is no turning back now.

Nebula is a simple witness, and cannot comfort him as he follows the stranger — and like his spark, her heart clenches in dread when a black bag is shoved around his head as soon as he enters the shadow of the cliffs. She feels his panic while he struggles against whoever harshly grips his wrists together and forces him down to his knees. His body is shaking and she shares the frightening hypothesis that this is a trap, and she jerks with him when another pair of hands palpate his body, looking for who knows what.

How long lasts this agonising moment, she doesn't know, but then a rumbling voice speaks.

“No tracker, no camera, no weapons. The guy is clean. You can let him go.”

Orion breathes out a sigh he has been holding — robots are able to sigh apparently — when he is released. But a firm hand stops him when he tries to take the bag off.

“The bag stays on,” the rumbling, calm voice tells him. “Now, follow us.”

He genuinely asks how he is supposed to walk if he is blind. The voice sighs and another one snickers, then Orion gasps in surprise when two callous hands scoop him up and press him against a broad chest.

“Aww,” the second voice, gravelly and deep, exclaims, “the little guy is cute when he squeaks! You look like a creator with their sparkling, bwahaha!”

Orion coughs in embarrassment while the one holding him — a femme, according to her voice — lets out an exasperated huff, before beginning to walk.

“Does this situation look like a joke to you?” and there is a warning in her tone.

“Oh, don’t worry, if the little guy tries any funny business, I’ll happily crush him. Got it, little guy?”

The smallest of the three shakily wonders what kind of situation he has got himself into while he nods and gulps.

The mech then makes an odd noise, something between a laugh and a snarl, like a wolf chuckling at a frightened dog, demanding him to go away, to leave his territory, or to submit.

So Orion submits. It's not like he can run away anyway. Not when the femme carrying him can easily smash him with her hands. He cannot see her, but he can guess she is taller than he is, or should he said huge, considering the arms supporting his weight are larger than his thighs. Each of her steps slightly shake the ground. Her thick and square fingers speak of strength, yet the powerful joints pressed against his armour are nothing but gentle and steady. He can feel the dents in the metal, a sign that her hands are used to harsh work… or more violent business.

He really, really doesn't want to think about the implications of such thoughts.

Then he notices that the air is cooler, it’s refreshing after having to cope with the burning heat of the desert. The femme turns right, turns left, turns left again — and after a moment he is so confused he cannot grasp directions any longer.

An eternity that could have been a second elapses during their walk — until she stops walking, and suddenly it seems like he is being stared at.

Anxious, he instinctively clings to her — and in response she unceremoniously drops him on the ground.

Someone snorts as he yelps in indignation then pain when he lands on his buttocks. He tries to get up despite the bag blindfolding him and he wobbles, almost losing his balance. A clawed hand catches him just in time, and sight is given back to him.

The first thing he sees is red. In the darkness of what looks like a cave, several pairs of glowing rubies warily peer at him. They stand straight, ready to strike should he do anything wrong. Their plating is dented and their paint worn, but their armor is so thick not even the strongest bullets would be able to pierce it. Some of them have cannons mounted on their back, others have guns and blades sticking out of their wrists — but all of them are covered in scars.

Orion realises in horror that he is before a pack of soldiers, beasts hardened by war — war dogs that can tear him up before he can say anything.

Despite being part of the military, one of the highest casts, soldiers are not worth more than strays. They are the tools of the expansion and the defence of the empire: they invade planets chosen by their superiors, they kill the people the strategists have decided not to spare, they guard the outposts implanted by their masters after having watched the battle from afar.

Never mind that dozens of them die on the battlefield — they are just pawns on the chessboard. They are made for violence, decimating everything, until violence claims them back.

Soldiers are almost never seen on Cybertron, if not as bodyguards — a job they are really good at — and they are so feared no one approaches them.

Are these people bodyguards too? Are they here to protect the mysterious author? It would be the most feasible explanation, yet Orion cannot shakes the feeling that he is missing something. They look old, battered by life, and at the same time there is something very young about them.

“What is your name?” a blue bot with gold accent coolly asks, his hands resting on the hilt of a long sword that can cut him in half in one swift motion.

“My designation is Orion Pax,” the historian manages to say with a steady voice, something he is proud of.

“Typical body from the intellectual cast,” the femme that carried him adds, and Primus, she is not tall she is a giant! “He fits Kat's description. He’s got nothing he can use against us. He’s either a spy or someone who genuinely wants to help.”

“I want to!” Orion exclaims, and everyone immediately stiffens, until they notice he is not speaking vehemently, but enthusiastically. “This novel, Dialogues, it was… it was something that everybody needed to read. The author was very brave to speak out loud, and I want to support them, so they can keep speaking.”

“And how would you do that?” two large, scarlet optics ask, inquisitive, only visible feature of a body hidden in the dark — and at this moment Orion regrets he has not an infrared vision.

“I am an historian. I have studied the past of Cybertron for a long time, and I want to share this knowledge… even if the Council doesn’t allow me to. That is why I am here: the writer spread hope, and if there is anything I can do to make this hope grow, if there are arguments the author needs to strengthen his ideas and resist against the Council’s propaganda… then I will not hesitate to provide them.”

The embers are closed now, reflecting upon the historian’s words. But when they open again, it is another voice that speaks, sounding strange, almost alien.

“We cannot trust you. Not yet. But if your words are true, then we will gladly accept your help. For now, go back to Cybertron. Think about the implications of such a choice. When we will decide that you are trustworthy, we will contact you again. And you will see the one you seem so keen to meet.”

When the silence comes back, Orion understands that it is time to leave. As they put the bag back and escort him toward the exit, he cannot help but feel disappointed. However, he understands that they have to take precautions — it’s survival.

He wonders how they will be able to tell that he is not a traitor, and he doesn’t feel the minuscule camera they have installed on him when they frisked him a moment earlier.

And the mysterious author is still plaguing his mind.

“Back then I didn’t know. I didn’t know that there was not one but two authors. I didn’t know they were already there, in this cave where everything began. I had seen his eyes and I had heard her voice. One was a soldier, like his brothers in arms. The other was someone who came from far away.”

Nebula is back to the present, and watches this robot full of memories, closing his eyes for a moment, trying not to get lost into the maze of his past.

“These people, one of a kind, were your parents. Megatron and Esther.”

#i know it ends up with a cliffhanger sorry #but i had to cut there bc it was too long #don't worry several parts of the next chapter are already done #hope you liked it!#sweet child o' mine #megatron #esther #nebula #optimus prime #transformers #beeverse #knightverse #bumblebee movie #interspecies romance #science-fiction

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loughlinpatrick · 5 years

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People Evolve – Writing Does, Too. So, What’s Next for Literature?

It’s time to write the next chapter of the story of literature. Photo: Nong Vang // Unsplash

Literature comes in many modes, modes which have been changing and adapting over millennia. We’ve had oral storytelling, the origin of many fairytales ingrained in our culture, written texts, which have contributed to the literary canon, and filmmaking, an extremely recent phenomenon when you consider all of human history but one that has definitely left its mark on our culture at large. As the methodology of literature has evolved, we’ve never entirely left any mode behind.

For example, oral storytelling has minted many ‘YouTube millionaires’ who’ve risen to fame through their use of the notable “story time” video format, which consists of them delivering (usually extremely exaggerated) stories about their lives to camera. So, when thinking about the future of literature, the question you should be asking isn’t “What will replace our current modes of literature?” but rather, “What new technology will complement these existing modes?”

The Answer Starts With Interactive Fiction…

Game on! Is the future of literature already here? Not quite… Photo: Florian Gagnepain // Unsplash

You might think the answer lies with video games, a format that has built upon filmmaking by adding a layer of perceived interactivity that makes players feel like they control the story. Many popular releases have taken this a step further in recent times, with the indie game ‘Until Dawn’ (2015) allowing players to achieve a range of possible endings, and more recent entries in the ‘Five Nights at Freddy’s’ (2014) series having “good” and “bad” endings. This style of interactive media allows consumers to feel more ownership over a particular narrative, but is the feeling of ownership among fans necessarily a good thing to foster?

This possessiveness over literature is one of the three main ingredients in “toxic fandom” according to media critic Rachael Lefler, who says possessive fans see media as “a territory or property they own.” In western culture, this can manifest as newly-hired female writers for the series ‘Rick & Morty’ (2013) facing harassment from fans who perceive them as “forced-SJW hires” who are ruining “their” show, as well as similar sexist harassment targeted at Marvel writers for a viral selfie.

youtube

Ahead of its time? ‘Perfect Blue’ (1997) explores toxic fandom in Japan.

Toxic fandom isn’t just a Western problem – similar issues occur with fan behaviour toward Japanese J-Pop idols. The anime-psychological thriller ‘Perfect Blue,’ (1997) which features a stalker tormenting and impersonating his favourite J-Pop idol, explores this issue in-depth as it pertains to Japan.

The level of interactivity applied to modern texts can also be harmful to fandoms, in that it can be difficult for fans to know where the interactivity ends. Netflix demonstrated this with their first foray into the interactive film genre, ‘Black Mirror: Bandersnatch’ (2019), which had some fans convinced that there was a sixth “secret ending” within the movie in addition to the five main endings that were known. The ambiguity led to many online fan communities wasting hours of their time looking for clues to the alleged secret ending; this was ultimately a wild goose chase which only served to make it even more apparent that the film did not function as a text with a satisfying and “complete” plot.

Great as a game — not so much as a narrative; ‘Bandersnatch’ fell flat for some ‘Black Mirror’ fans. Photo: Netflix

However, even with texts that are not inherently interactive, such as HBO’s ‘Westworld’ (2017) – itself a meta-commentary on the limits of interactive texts. The show employed a trans-media strategy that allowed fans to access “secret” websites belonging to organisations and characters in the show. These websites then contained clues as to what would happen in future episodes of the show, but this led many fans to obsessively analyse trailers and posts from Westworld’s social media accounts to find more clues and secrets that weren’t there. In both of these cases, the expectations of the writers and viewers didn’t match up, leading viewers to look for deeper layers of interactivity that didn’t exist.

A Healthy Author-Reader Dialogue is Key.

Dedicated fans want to add to the story! Photo: Kaitlyn Baker // Unsplash

The tenacity of consumers of media to run with a story and build upon it has been apparent for decades, with growing online communities allowing fans to discuss media and even write fan-fiction to add on to the plots of their favourite texts. Some of these fan-fiction works have even entered mainstream consciousness, with backing from legacy media helping to turn well-known fan-fiction into physical books and globally released films. Two key examples of this phenomenon are ‘Fifty Shades of Grey,’ (2015) which was initially ‘Twilight’ (2008) fan-fiction, and the romance movie ‘After,’ (2019) which was originally fan-fiction about Harry Styles.

This tenacity of fans for storytelling is what helped the success of the comedy movie ‘Clue,’ (1985) based on the murder-mystery board game of the same name. The film had three different endings, with each cinema that showed it only receiving one conclusion. The film’s writers believed that this gimmick would allow “super-fans” to see the film multiple times, but ‘Clue’ ended up being a box-office flop. It was only through television re-runs that the film was able to build up an online fan community that enjoyed writing alternate endings and become the 80s cult classic that it is today.

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Fans of ‘Clue’ who’d watched it in different places were very confused when talking about it!

So, we’ve learned that it’s crucial to balance the expectations of an audience with the ambitions of a work’s creator, and this is a lesson that I employed in writing my mystery-novel series, ‘Revenge in Ridgeview.’ My series contains three mystery novels, and in writing them, I communicated extensively with my audience (at the time: only my friends who I badgered into reading them). As I was releasing the books online with a chapter a week (on the very same platform where ‘After’ was first published), I was also able to engage with readers of my work from other countries. The dialogue I had with my readers allowed me to ask them questions at the end of the first book, a key one being “Who is your favourite character?” Then, (as all authors feed off your tears) I made sure to give that character a terrible time in subsequent books. Yes, I upset quite a few of my friends; no, I’m not ashamed.

The Future is Personalised.

Is this the future of literature? Photo: Markus Spiske // Unsplash

So, now we can answer the question we’re here to get to the bottom of: what is next for literature? Well, taking the lessons we’ve learned, we can see that the next mode of media will be something that relies on computers, as seen in the way video games built upon filmmaking. However, unlike video games, writers will likely want to take back some of the feeling ownership over their texts. So, in essence, the mode will be interactive, but in a way where readers don’t know that they’re interacting with it. How can we accomplish this? With personalised literature; you wouldn’t “choose your adventure,” the adventure would choose you.

Netflix and other streaming services are already in a unique position to make this happen; they’ve collected mountains of data from every single profile on their service: your watch habits, when you watch, where you watch from, and as seen in the aftermath of their ‘Bandersnatch’ experiment, they even store the choices you make when viewing their interactive originals, forever. So, what would this allow writers to do?

Well, we’ve already seen that demonstrated way back in 1985 with ‘Clue,’ where cinemas had alternate endings; Netflix could do the same thing, but this time, instead of showing a random conclusion to a viewer with no idea of how they would react, Netflix could instead determine the “best ending” for the viewer and show them that one. The company is already experimenting with this to a certain extent: Netflix presents the episodes of ‘Love, Death & Robots’ (2019) in different orders for different users.

Journalists can also take advatage of personalised literature. Photo: Mr Cup / Fabien Barral // Unsplash

Furthermore, while I’ve avoided discussing non-fictional literature in so far, the news media is also in a unique position to take advantage of our move toward personalised texts.

For example, BBC News has been trialling personalised articles – or “perceptive media” as they call it – on their website since mid-2012 in a bid to appeal more to young adult readers. These efforts have allowed them to add a local angle to specific stories with a national focus by using the user’s location, such as showing local crime statistics in an article that discusses national trends.

The BBC also experimented with reports covering developing stories by adding personalised summaries based on previous articles on the topic that a user had read; they quickly scrapped this feature because “participants quite rightly asked how we knew what they’d read.” So, not all personalisation is well-received – sometimes it’s just too creepy – but journalists should still experiment in this area.

The Discussion Continues…

Lights, camera, action! Let’s hit record on the next phase of literature. Photo: Thomas William // Unsplash

As I noted earlier, the delivery of texts will always adapt. We’ve had oral storytelling, writing, filmmaking, video games and interactive fiction, and it’s likely that next, we’ll have personalised literature. This next mode certainly won’t be the last, and it won’t come without flaws. There’s still an ethical debate to be had about whether these big companies should even have your data in the first place, and about how they’ll use it.

For example, could streaming services like Netflix edit out scenes featuring LGBTQI couples if they detect that a viewer is homophobic, and would it be ethical to do so? I used my dialogue with my audience to create a text that would challenge them, but services with a financial incentive (and lots more of your data at their disposal) may not have the same moral imperative. So, let’s start having that conversation, so we can make sure that the future of literature is a good one.

Update: My friends are still upset about what I did to their favourite character. The power of knowing your readers, I guess?

#storytelling #writing #filmmaking #journalism #literature

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secretlystephaniebrown · 6 years

Text

Someone’s Playing the Pink Panther Theme, Right?

Summary: Carolina infiltrates Locus’ squad. There are some close calls.

This comes from two places: one, me joking about how Locus is oblivious and failed to notice Carolina infiltrating his squad, and the other, me pointing out that Carolina infiltrating his squad means she potentially witnessed some fucked up shit before revealing herself. I didn't go all the way with the second one, because I wanted to write something on the lighter side. Hope you guys enjoy!

Also on Ao3

Carolina’s method of stealth relies on two things:

One, a standardized system of armor so that her camouflage can do the rest of the job for her.

Two, no one to talk to her directly.

It’s not that Carolina’s bad at espionage. Or stealth. Or…

Look, she’s not bad at it, okay?

She’s not.

Shut up, Epsilon.

So she’s tripped some motion sensors in her day. So what if she can never come up with a good excuse whenever someone asks her why she’s not on patrol?

She can just fight her way out of the situation, okay? She’s fine.

She’s fine.

Really.

Look, at least she’s not Tex, okay? Tex blew up places to make sure no one ever saw her.

She’s fine, Epsilon.

Stop fussing, Epsilon.

The point is, infiltrating Locus’s squad is going to go fine. The helmet she’s wearing is one that belonged to one of the pirates, even if it’s not standard-issue. A voice-coder, one unconscious body hidden behind one of the warthogs, and the pounding sense of too-late later, she’s awkwardly standing in front of Locus for inspection, alongside a dozen other soldiers.

She’s using the old method from Freelancer to avoid attention, one that she’d seen York use a dozen times. She’d never needed it of course, and it had never been possible. The Director’s attention had never been hers to determine if she received or not. She was either hyper-visible, all her flaws exposed under his keen gaze, or completely invisible, no matter how good she was. There was no state of in-between. No amount of hiding or deflection could have concealed her when she was tired, or injured, or late.

York, however, had taught her that the best method to avoid detection was to be after the most likely to be trouble in a squad. Not directly after, he’d explained once, over a bottle of beer after a mission gone sideways in the early days, because then the CO is hyper-on-edge, looking for something to critique in the next person too, but one spot after that, or even two, if it’s been a bad mission.

<Epsilon.>

<Right, sorry, okay, focusing.>

Sometimes, she had to wonder if Alpha had been as anxious as Epsilon.

<Rude.>

The guy she’s chosen to stand two down from is a man who failed to fasten the shoulder plate of his armor correctly. If the data she and Epsilon have gathered on Locus is correct—and Epsilon hums, annoyed in her mind, insistent that it is correct, how dare she assume otherwise, the two of them are the best at gathering intel—he won’t tolerate that. Her own armor is in perfect shape, maintained with the help of the best A.I.—Epsilon glows with pleasure at that thought, adjacent to but not interrupting her internal monologue—so she’ll be fine there.

The one danger is that Locus does know all his people, that he has read every file, or worse, that he’s read the file that Epsilon spoofed up for Carolina’s alias and realizes that something’s wrong.

Anxiety trickles down her throat, choking her for a moment before sinking down, hard and slow, like a rock into her stomach, and she can’t tell if it’s Epsilon’s or her own.

Everything depends on her succeeding here.

Locus goes down the line, efficient and brutal in his pace. He unbraids three soldiers for miniscule problems with their armor or weapons, he dresses down another for having missed a check-in—oh shit he does pay attention to his soldiers, oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit.

He’s just about to get to her, and Epsilon is frantically buzzing in the back of her mind, planning escape routes, searching for ways out, and she’s barely able to breathe, just trying to stop radiating guilt and fear and anything else that could tip him off.

He’s turned that strange, eyeless helmet towards her, and she feels herself about to fall over the edge, the anxiety turning into adrenaline, flight becoming fight, when the door slams open and a man in orange armor arrives.

“Locus!” He shrieks, and she places the voice. Felix. The traitor within the New Republic.

He’s… shorter than she expected, after Locus. Locus is the largest man she’s seen since Maine, larger than Caboose or any of the other pirates. Locus is broad and wide, built for close combat but a sniper. A contradiction.

But Felix… oh, there’s no mistaking what he’s built for. Skinny but muscled, shorter than Locus but average height overall… bristling with pride and knives alike.

He’s the one to watch for. He fights dirty.

Locus’s attention skitters away from her, refocusing on something far more relevant, and she’s left on the edge, her fingers inches away from fists.

“How far out are they?” Locus demands.

“Not here yet,” Felix says, crossing his arms. “But I saw the battle plan you had drawn up, and I’ve got complaints.”

… a battle plan?

Fuck.

She hadn’t known there was an actual plan yet.

Neither had Epsilon, apparently.

“Dismissed all of you,” Locus snapped, freeing Carolina from discovery. She can’t help but breathe in relief, and smirk to herself, knowing that he’s just doomed his whole operation, letting her go like that. Locus turns his entire focus towards Felix, but doesn’t say anything, while the pirates turn and scatter.

<He doesn’t want anyone to see Mommy and Daddy fight.> Epsilon sniggers in the back of her mind

<Ugh, seriously? The guy’s a dick.>

<Don’t be stupid. Now where can we get those battle plans?>

Epsilon doesn’t know, but he’s got a few suggestions, which Carolina supposes is better than nothing.

The two of them dart through the halls, still careful about the pirates.

<Careful, camera!>

<Can’t you short-circuit it?>

<Well, yeah, it just takes a second, so stand still!>

<Hey, hey, if you were better at watching your corners, I wouldn’t have to!>

They locate a control room, which will hopefully have… something, at least. Data of some kind, if not the actual battle plans.

Battle plans for how Felix and Locus intend to murder all their friends.

The humor, the banter, the comradery within Carolina’s mind evaporates in an instant at that reminder.

Their friends are in danger. The guys are in danger.

The fact that Felix and Locus have been close for so long… Carolina doesn’t know details—communications are hard to listen into on Chorus, even with Epsilon’s wide-sweeping abilities. But Locus has been mirroring Wash’s location for a while, and there are rumors about Felix and the Simulation Troopers.

Close enough to trust, close enough to hurt, close enough to kill.

Carolina’s fingers clench into fists at the thought.

There’s an irony to her position here, an infiltrator amid the infiltrators, the double agent within the double agents, the traitor of traitors.

She finds some satisfaction within that… but not as much satisfaction as she’ll find beating Locus and Felix’s faces in for daring to plan to hurt her friends.

She remembers Wash’s shouts on the radio, his pleas for help, for rescue.

Things went wrong, so quickly, and she hadn’t even realized it at the time, thinking they were safe, or as safe as anyone could be during this civil war. Once she took down the pirates, she’d be able to secure a ship for them and get them all to safety, but she had to make sure that Freelancer’s toxic legacy wasn’t going to claim any more lives, and the pirates were the source of that, and they were keeping the ships down too, so really, she was helping them—

Her excuses putter out in her own mind, hollow.

She should have gone to them earlier, and she knows it.

She’d needed space, needed to try to make things right, to shake off her father’s ghost, she’d seen a chance, and she’d taken it, not saying goodbye and damn the consequences.

And now… here were the consequences.

She has to live with that.

Carolina reaches out to try the door, secure in the knowledge that Epsilon had unlocked it already and grins to herself.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

Fuck.

A pirate turns the corner—the one she’d been planning to use as a human shield earlier, clearly on edge, his armor now in place, bristling from the reprimand.

Oh, of all the—she is so fucked.

“Huh?” She asked, trying to channel Maine’s ability to fake nonchalance. No one ever questioned Maine.

<That’s because he was eight feet tall and literally made of muscle!>

… right.

Carolina wants to take a moment to curse the unfairness of the entire situation, because honestly, she is way scarier than Maine, or at least Maine-before-Meta.

But she’ll have to do that later, because right now she’s being caught red handed.

“Isn’t this, the uh,” she says, trying to think of what Wash would do. “Ladies room?”

Carolina hadn’t known she could literally feel it when an A.I. facepalmed, but she could, apparently.

“What? No!”

“Oh, sorry,” she says, stepping away. “I—I just—”

He’s recovered from his bafflement at her excuse and is about to ask her in more detail, or even worse, ask for help, when Locus comes on the intercom. “Assemble,” he orders. “There’s been a change in plan.”

The pirate groans. “Great. I bet Felix made us scrap the landmines, so he could monologue.”

“He does like to do that,” Carolina says, trying to keep her tone light. She… she can use that. Monologuing. That gives her time. That means he has to keep them alive.

Thank God for mercenaries who like to hear himself speak and can annoy their professional partners into letting him have his way.

“You’re telling me,” the pirate mutters, stomping his feet heavily as they head back into the main room.

Carolina swallows, then follows him.

They get their orders and Carolina tastes bile.

She kills her partner, the man who’s supposed to help her murder the Federal Soldiers, and she sets off the fire alarm in the barrack she’s supposed to execute, so they run.

(She’ll learn later the second wave of pirates caught them in a crossfire before they could make it out, and she throws up until there’s nothing left.)

She’s getting mixed reports, she doesn’t know where the Reds and Blues or Wash are, and so she runs into the infirmary, because she’s heard a rumor that Wash was injured.

She doesn’t find Wash, but she does find a very angry doctor.

“Stay down!” Carolina pushes her down, her heart racing, because another squad was assigned the infirmary. “I can get you out of here, just—”

A scalpel presses against her neck. “And why should I trust you, sweetie?”

“Because otherwise, you’re dead.” She swallows. “Get out of here and find the Reds and Blues, okay?” She shows the doctor a way out through the vents, and then tries to see if she can get any other survivors out.

She doesn’t find any other survivors.

She does find a group of pirates.

Fuck.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” She’s looking down the barrel of a gun, and man, she really doesn’t like that. “You’re the new girl, aren’t you?” There’s just enough of a sneer, enough of a leer, there, that Carolina doesn’t even have to hesitate before channeling South. She should draw from Connie, or York, or Florida, or really anyone else, really, but Carolina wants to knock this guy down a peg, and she’s itching for a fight, itching to put this fucker in her place.

There are dead bodies in the room behind him, because Carolina couldn’t protect them, and she can’t avenge them yet, not if she wants to save her friends, but she wants to… something. She needs to make amends, somehow.

“I saw someone run out of here,” she says, lifting her chin in the air, like she’s not scared, like she thinks they’re being stupid, like they’re beneath her. “I killed her and came in to see if you guys needed help blowing your noses or wiping your asses too.”

The gun lowers. “Bitch,” the pirate mumbles.

“Hey, do your job, so I don’t have to,” she says flippantly, even though Epsilon is screaming at her not to make fun of the murderers, they have guns, Carolina, they could kill you, Carolina.

“We just got the word from Locus,” another one says. “Get ready for the box.”

“Alright then,” Carolina says. “Let’s get this over with.”

She carefully gets herself placed right next to Locus, who looks her over one last time.

“You, soldier,” he says. “What’s your name?”

Fuck.

“Carol—Carol. Carol—” Shit fuck. “Church.” Fuck.

Epsilon is dead quiet in her brain with disbelief at how bad she fucked that up.

Locus, however, simply nods and turns his attention. “Remember to use your camouflage,” he orders them, and Carolina can’t believe she’s getting away with this.

The two of them activate the active camouflage in sync with everyone else and walk forward towards her friends.

<Be careful you don’t trip,> Epsilon says, sulky.

<I’m just saying, this is why we don’t do stealth missions!>

He has no response for a moment.

Then, as they decloak, aiming a gun at their friends, he finally speaks up again.

Carolina grins and allows herself to stop being scared that things are going to go wrong.

She’s made it this far. Locus and Felix are going to pay.

#Agent Carolina #Epsilon #Leonard Church #Locus #Red vs Blue #Steph Writes

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