#and being able to step in and out of those boundaries between the dimensions.

[0bscvr]

honestly??? heavily thinking about renoir having a natural affinity for music, and possibly being the one who influenced verso and his own love for it.

[shiftingfawnnn]

Understanding the 3D vs. 4D: The Shift Between Realities

Shifting is often described as the act of moving between realities, but the process is more complex than simply changing locations or environments. The distinction between 3D and 4D is not only significant in terms of the worlds themselves, but also in how we experience and perceive reality. Understanding this difference is crucial for anyone who is serious about shifting, as it unveils a deeper layer of reality that has the potential to change our understanding of existence itself.

The 3D World: Linear Time and Physical Constraints

To begin understanding the shift between 3D and 4D, it’s important to first grasp what the 3D world represents. The 3D realm is the reality most of us are familiar with, where we experience time, space, and matter in specific ways. Time in the 3D world is linear. It moves from past to present to future in a steady, measurable progression. Days, hours, and minutes dictate our lives, and every event follows a particular order. We are bound by the laws of physics that govern space—our physical movements are restricted to three dimensions (length, width, height), and our senses are designed to interact with the world in tangible, touchable ways.

In the 3D world, cause and effect are clearly defined. The events we experience follow a clear timeline—what happened yesterday can’t happen tomorrow, and what will happen in the future hasn’t occurred yet. This world operates on limitations, both physically and mentally, with space and time as constant forces shaping our experiences. Our bodies are subject to aging, our thoughts follow a rational progression, and our reality is defined by what we can see, hear, touch, and measure. Even the most abstract thoughts we have are contained within the structure of time and space.

This strict framework shapes how we live and understand the world. However, for those who wish to shift, this understanding of reality becomes a constraint. The 3D world, with its linearity and physical boundaries, is only a small piece of the larger, more expansive universe. To move beyond it, one must explore the possibility of stepping out of these limitations, to see beyond the veil of time and space.

Entering the 4D: A Higher-Dimensional Experience

When we shift to a 4D reality, we step into a world that is far more fluid, flexible, and expansive. The concept of the 4D world challenges everything we know about time and space. In this realm, time is no longer linear. Instead of being confined to a steady progression from past to future, time becomes malleable. It can bend, overlap, and occur simultaneously in multiple instances. Imagine being able to experience all moments at once—not just reliving the past or seeing the future, but understanding them as layers that exist together. This is what 4D time offers: the freedom to see time as an interconnected web, rather than a straight line.

The experience of space in the 4D realm is also radically different. While 3D space is fixed and measurable, 4D space allows for an expansion of what is possible. In the 4D world, the concepts of height, width, and depth can intertwine in complex ways. It’s not just about moving in three directions, but about perceiving multiple realities simultaneously. Imagine being able to see through objects, or being aware of a multitude of parallel universes at the same time. Movement in the 4D world is fluid and can happen across multiple dimensions at once, allowing for experiences that are not possible in our 3D understanding.

Perhaps the most profound aspect of the 4D world is the way beings in this realm interact with time and space. In 3D, we are restricted by physical boundaries, but in 4D, beings are able to transcend these boundaries. They might be able to experience events as they unfold across different moments in time, or even affect the timeline itself. A 4D being might be aware of their past and future in ways that 3D beings cannot comprehend, able to manipulate time to create change or prevent events from occurring.

Shifting Between Realities: A Bridge Between Worlds

So, how do we shift from the 3D world to the 4D? The transition between these realities is not as simple as stepping into another physical location—it’s about shifting the way we perceive and understand reality itself. To move from the linear, tangible experience of the 3D world into the expansive, fluid world of the 4D, we must first break free from the mental constraints that hold us in the 3D. This means shedding our reliance on linear time and physical limitations. Shifting into the 4D requires expanding consciousness beyond the familiar boundaries of space and time.

One way to approach this shift is by deepening our awareness of the non-linear aspects of existence. In the 3D world, we are trained to think in terms of time as a sequence, with one event leading to another. But in the 4D, time is not experienced in this rigid way. It is important to let go of our dependence on time as we know it and embrace the idea that past, present, and future can coexist, interweaving to create a reality that is far richer and more dynamic.

The key to shifting into a 4D reality is trust and letting go. Trust in the fluidity of existence. Trust in your ability to transcend the 3D constraints. As you begin to shift your perception, you may start to notice subtle changes in the way you experience time and space. These changes might feel disorienting at first, but with practice, they become more natural. Shifting into a 4D reality means stepping into a new way of being—one where time is an expansive force, and space is a fluid, interconnected experience.

The Implications of 4D Shifting

The deeper implications of shifting into the 4D realm are profound. Moving beyond the limitations of 3D opens up possibilities that are difficult to fully comprehend. In the 4D world, time is no longer a prison but a canvas. The way we experience our lives, the world around us, and even our interactions with others can be altered in incredible ways. It’s not just about physical space and objects—shifting into the 4D realm can alter how we perceive ourselves, our identity, and our place in the universe.

By shifting to the 4D, we become more aware of the interconnectedness of all things. We begin to understand that every choice we make ripples through time, and every moment is part of a greater whole. It’s a humbling and empowering experience, one that transcends the linear, finite boundaries of our 3D world.

Conclusion: The Next Step in Our Evolution

In the end, the shift from 3D to 4D is not just a physical relocation—it’s a journey of consciousness. It’s about transcending the limitations of time, space, and perception to embrace a greater understanding of existence. The 4D world is where time and space become fluid, where realities intertwine, and where we begin to understand our place in the cosmos on a much deeper level.

For those who are ready to explore the higher dimensions, shifting between the 3D and 4D is a way to unlock the full potential of reality. It’s an invitation to leave behind the constraints of the physical world and explore the infinite possibilities that exist in the realms beyond. With each shift, we step closer to understanding the true nature of existence—and perhaps, even the nature of time and space itself.

[theromanticrationalist]

My Thoughts: Young Sheldon 7x02 A Roulette Wheel and a Piano Playing Dog

Look how cute he is! Cute as a button! 😙 Awwww! Baby! It is so difficult for me to watch Sheldon struggling. Imagine being a fish out of water your entire life where your one socially acceptable trait is your intellect, which surpasses everyone’s, only to be thrown into A WHOLE OTHER COUNTRY, taking the fish metaphor to a whole other level, only to discover THE one quiver in your arsenal is utterly moot.

Damn. My poor baby string bean! But he handled it so well. He pushed through! I am proud of my Shelly! It is the aspect of why YS is better than TBBT because they allow for Sheldon to be a more complex individual and don’t treat him like a child, even though he is literally a child. The show allows circumstances to push against him, to make him stronger, and the narrative isn’t constantly belittling him as if he can’t handle life at all. It is actually quite a big deal that Sheldon was able to keep his mouth shut and humbled himself under an authority in order to learn what he needed to. And he did this by HIS choice! He listened to what those around him where telling him, and chose the wiser path. He didn’t have to be coerced, manipulated, or browbeaten into it, which was often the route TBBT took.

Well, his tutor DID use physical reinforcement, but a wrap on the hand is good for the boy. 😁

Which brings me into my next thought, I don’t think this moving back and forth from Texas and Germany is going to work really well for the storytelling. I want to see how the whole Cooper family is doing, of course, but I am primarily watching this show for Sheldon! I don’t feel like they are able to spend the amount of time necessary to really explore this experience he is having. It feels so rushed. I don’t like it. I want more time to process Sheldon’s life lessons here and how he is feeling about it. It is the same old story! This is literally one of the biggest problems with American media.

They. never. give. enough. time. to. the. story. EVER. !!!!!

🤦‍♀️ Why are you the way that you are, American Media. I hate so much everything that you choose to be.

Anyway, I did love the heart to heart chat between Missy and Georgie this episode! That was so sweet! They are learning what it means to have responsibilities and that growing up requires so much thankless sacrifice. I love the bond that Missy and Georgie have, and I am glad we got to see them process this experience together. And way to go Missy for not only stepping up, growing up, and being so mature and on top of things, but she also is learning about boundaries! Damn girl! 🔥 I know Mary Cooper loves serving her family so I love that aspect about her, but the boys definitely shouldn’t leave all the house stuff to the women folk, as if they have to be served and waited on. Missy is killing it! 💪

Missy and Sheldon, two sides of the same coin! I hope to talk more about that later! 😉 Now it’s time for...

My Favorite Sheldon Cooper Quotes: Sheldon: "And they laughed at me for not knowing something they knew! Who does that?!" Mary: ". . . you do." Sheldon: "This is no time for a teachable moment! Your child is hurting." Mary: "Sorry." *pats him on the arm* "There there." Sheldon: "I guess that'll do. Now how about a hot beverage?" Mary: 😑

Sheldon: “Oh! I see the problem! This is stupid! You can’t just invent dimensions. There is this one, this one, and this one.” Mei-Tung: “You forgot the dimension of time.” Sheldon: . . . Sheldon: *holds out his hand* Mei-Tung: *slaps it with a pencil* Sheldon: “Ow! . . . Thank you." Sheldon Prime: "I wanted to give up and runaway. But I had read enough comic books to know that heroes don't quit. Instead of running I decided to stay and face the biggest challenge I've ever had: keeping my mouth shut. This turned out to be a pivotal moment in my life. By being open to people smarter than me, I grew as both a man and a scientist. Humble. Brilliant. I really am the whole package!"

[stormyoceans]

can i vent a little??? ever since ive started loving myself with a violent force and coming to terms with everything ive been through / started having more boundaries, ive lost so many friends... and im wondering how is it that you cope with the loneliness that comes with it? sending you so much love- someone who adores you and your thoughts 💗

hello, anon!!!!

first of all, i hope it's okay to say that im really proud of you for actively choosing to love and take care of yourself. for a lot of people (myself included) that doesn't always come easy, so i hope you know there's a lot of bravery in taking that first step, and in all the ones that come after it

as for your question, im actually not sure if im the best person to ask about loneliness, because that's something i struggle with a lot, so it does feel a little presumptuous to give advice on a matter im still looking for an answer to myself ;;;;;;;; that being said, i can definitely share my perspective and how i try to cope with it, hoping it can be of some help

so, i think the most important thing to keep in mind is that the loneliness is only temporary. there is always a dimension of loss to change, and every loss comes with an adjustment period: when you stop putting other people first in favor of setting boundaries and prioritizing your own needs, some of those people may not be able to accept it and walk out of your life, but as you work on these healthier patterns, you're also opening yourself up to new connections, which will eventually come to you. you just have to keep going and get through this in-between phase

that, of course, it’s easier said than done, especially since meaningful relationships do take some time to build, so there are personally two main things that (more or less) help me cope with loneliness:

changing my mindset and rediscovering the pleasure of my own company. i feel like a big part of both loving yourself and dealing with loneliness is to realize that you’re a pretty fucking awesome person to hang out with. sometimes we tend to focus so much on what we don’t have that we forget about what we do have, and i know maybe it sounds silly to say you have yourself, but that’s actually a lot. so, for example, in the past i would give up on going to watch a movie if i didn’t have anybody to go watch it with, but now i go by myself all the time and have a lot of fun too. it wasn’t easy at first, and sometimes it still takes me a lot of effort to shift the way i think about it (from ‘oh everyone else is here with someone while im here alone’ to ‘im here and im having fun by myself��), however i personally believe there’s a lot of joy to be found in being able to experience and enjoy stuff by yourself. im a very shy introverted person in rl, so it takes me a while to feel comfortable enough with someone to act silly in front of them, but if im alone i can dance around and sing off-key and scream at my screen while watching shows and fail at my culinary experiments without feeling self-conscious. you just have to try different things to see what makes you feel good, and be kind with yourself if it doesn’t always work out. it’s a process, and the more you do it the easier it becomes;

remembering that every connection counts, even the smaller ones, but they don’t come without some effort. in a way it’s true that it’s harder to make friends once you’re an adult and out of school, but i was honestly surprised to realize how many ways there are to connect with people, and how even more casual relationships can help chip away at the loneliness. your interests and your routine can help you a lot in this. going to the same grocery store and coffee shop regularly made me realize how after a while i could recognize the people there and they could recognize me in return. i threw some small talk at some of them (a couple of cashiers and the barista) and eventually we started to share and learn personal stuff about each other. sure, we’re not friends, but these small connections do help me a lot in feeling better about myself and closer to people as a whole. if i had the time, i would also love to join a book club or volunteer to an animal shelter, because those are things i already love to do that could also help me meet new people and become friends with them. tumblr, too, is a great place for that: im not the best at keeping in touch (;;;;;;), but talking about the shows i love on here helped me find a lot of wonderful people that make me feel less lonely, even if we’re not physically close. you just have to remember that all relationships are a matter of give and take, so you have to be open and willing to share some part of yourself (even just the things you like) with others to get the same thing in return.

aaaand after typing all of this out i realized this is probably just a lot of blabbering and it’s not helpful at all ;;;;;;;;; but yeah, unfortunately i don’t think i have many ‘tips’ to give outside of: do the things that you love by yourself, unabashedly, and try to find ways to share them with others, whether that’s just by making a post online or by joining a group about that specific thing. remember that feelings of loneliness often come and go during life, so just be kind to yourself and don’t give up, because there are a lot of people waiting for you out there

and for what is worth, im here too. if you feel lonely and need someone to talk to, or even if you just want to scream about the things that make you happy, i will always gladly listen!!!!!!

[jonathankatwhatever]

It’s 5 June 2024. Not sure what I’m typing today. The work of yesterday, which related abstractly relative to physically relative, is not done. It’s difficult.

I feel like today, much of it, was recovery from a large effort. I did not realize we could connect relativities mechanically. I think that may be because I always took it as given that the abstract has gravity, has shape, and that it has this shape because it fits 1Space to 0Space, and that is where I think I would stop. The mechanics took a long time to see. As in, we developed [D3-4] so it includes the scale of fit over scales of Things, and that means we construct a grid square out of smaller grid squares, each of which fits, as I kept seeing this morning, to the circles and spheres which are inscribed and circumscribed. We had all that. We did not have the relativistic effects, meaning the shortening and lengthening which reflects or expresses the duality which we’ve identified as being 1-0-1.

The importance of 11 dimensions is obvious: it’s 1-SBE3-1, so it connects an entire 1-0-1, SBE chain. That’s a discrete object but also a link between objects and a component of objects. Note that this works with the conception of an 11th dimension as a membrane.

So, the relativistic potential is spin related. Speed is spin, when you rotate a mirror, when you rotate connecting gs squares as faces. The next is difficult. I’m hearing that we imagine the connection to 1Space flavoring the entirety of the object. What is the object? It’s whatever fits in the Boundary of that rotation or otherwise it rather obviously can’t be the same object. Don’t know why I didn’t see that right away.

This connects to that work about the fine-structure constant. It makes complete sense.

I’m sad because I’m not with you. I just realized that with all the changes in my Actuality, that sadness not only remains but dwarfs all else.

I’d love to get into incompleteness. Not sure what we have to say but there must be a way to make it approachable. As we see it, a system sufficiently complex to contain negation means the labels can flip 1-0 and 0-1, which is 1-0-1 with the flip itself being the 0 that is 0-1-0 so the negation flows from the preceding step as though it were the next step, which is an inelegant way of saying it’s in Triangular so the negation appears as a Pathway, and you go on it and the bit flips. About halfway through that, I realized this was something cool: what we’ve been working on with the ideas about how people flip the understanding. Like the way they look at Jews is the opposite of what they should do: they should be looking at what the Jews do as better than what they do and how can we emulate that and help with that, rather than the Jews aren’t perfect and we’ll ignore the fact that we’re much worse so we can hate the Jews. I have not been able to build that Pathway before.

The point is that when Triangular generates into gs, the relationship to Hexagonal matters. I think that explains D5 better: the handedness of D5 descending into D4 into D3-4, which maybe here is really D3 or D2-D3. So handedness means there’s even or either sided, like with right and left, and that means [D3-4] is handed to fit D2-3//3-2, meaning the pressures toward picking a side are the same when it’s tribal, because those are primal identities.

So, if you can construct an interior universe - and because we know V ≠ L - then there can be a bit flip over the Boundary. This is trying to connect incompleteness to relativity. Getting there, it seems. Build something and it can’t stand forever. Now that fits: needs work in to maintain, and then is it actually the old thing and what is it now? Entropy. All coming together.

So, when we have 1-0-1 and we think of the 0 as a Boundary, then we have pictured that using f&b, which means SBE3 relating to SBE3 over a gs as though glued together to make a front and back, with the intervening gs scaling, so big or small. Counts 20, so 5 make CM100, which fits to the old concept of God’s fingers and hands because it puts CM100 in each hand. That fits to the spin handedness.

I need to take a break. Did not expect to get this much done. I’ve been sitting on top of Peters Hill for about 40 minutes.

[fursasaida]

do you have sources or opinions about the uh. development of the idea of the 'veil between the worlds' stuff and how it relates to how we understand ... space and place? question brought to you by "i just read some fantasy fiction that royally hacked me off"

lmao did you know one of my big “i don’t work on this but i lowkey develop expertise in it as a hobby” things is fairy tales and folklore

Anyway, I don’t know very much about the history of the “veil” thing, but I am given to understand it originated with the Victorians. Google Scholar has been unforthcoming on this point, so while I do not have sources, I do have opinions! My opinions are these:

As previously discussed, most people in most places were not, until recently, of the opinion that the world is made of space and space is the universal extensive backdrop, the dimension in which things happen. Moreover, even if we more or less think the world is made of space semiconsciously and in our uses of language, it's not really how most people think most of the time, even in contexts where space in this sense (as opposed to "room") has been invented/internalized. Instead, the knowledge of the world was and is structured much more around places, routes, and regions (which are just a kind of place distinguished by being part of a larger whole). Places have insides and outsides. They are distinct from one another. (Although, as with regions, they can also nest or overlap; this isn't state territory or administrative boundaries we're talking about. Those are spatial artifacts.) Therefore, in a spaceless world, there is nothing contradictory about believing that there are, simply, places where magic is stronger or where the gods dwell or where time behaves differently, and so forth. Just because things aren't like that here means nothing about whether they're like that there. To be clear: I am not saying people in the past (or who practice such traditions today) had or have no sense of a visible/invisible, mundane/extraordinary, or material/immaterial divide. That, I think, is pretty truly universal, and simply a product of human cognition. We have myths in many cultures about a deep past when knowledge (or ignorance) was perfect and the world was immediate, young, more alive, partly because, for whatever reason, the way we experience reality includes the sense that there are some gaps in it, or a little too much room. ("A mystical experience" is basically--and across many traditions--an experience of the full immediacy we normally don't have.) However, places like Olympus or Tir-na-Nog or the realm of Ereshkigal are, still, places. You may not think you will find yourself in Hades or the land of the ancestors if you fall down a well,* but you can still think it is possible for someone to go there in a non-metaphorical sense. They may need extra steps or divine/magical assistance, but going is still going. You know, like people do in the stories.  And at the same time you can very easily accept that some extraordinary kinds of creatures or spirits really are here in this realm, and that their personalities and behaviors differ from place to place (animism, genius loci, some types of ancestor-honoring practices, etc).

(*Or in other words: to think you will end up in Hades if you fall down a well is actually to think about it spatially, or indeed geologically, as simply being what is found at a certain distance down. Why should Hades/Hell/etc, as a place, be under this well, all wells, any wells, just because it's under the Earth? These places have defined entrances, in the same way that you can walk up to a city wall as much as you like and this means nothing about whether you’ll get in if there’s no gate there.)

So I do think plenty of archaeologists, anthropologists, folklorists, etc. who study this kind of thing and look at the iconography or narratives as "obviously" portraying distinct realms in the sense of dimensions are unwittingly applying their commonsense, spatial sensibility to something that is much more ambiguous--because almost none of them have thought seriously about place as anything other than a location in space. They see a line or a boundary drawn and assume this means two existential dimensions, rather than two places. What now follows is basically the speculative explanation for how we got into this situation. It is based on a lot of things I know for sure, insofar as "for sure" can be known re: intellectual history; but I have not demonstrated a direct link, only surmised it. In Europe--more particularly, to my knowledge, in England, France, and Germany--space in our current sense really starts to get cemented in the 17th century. Notably, at the same time, people suddenly get interested in the scientific question of "the figure of the earth." It had long been known the Earth was round, of course, but suddenly it mattered to people what its precise shape could be. Is it a perfect sphere? An ellipsoid? What kind? What is the precise length of a degree of longitude? Is the Earth longer than it is wide or vice versa? This was the first time that intellectuals in these countries started seriously trying to reconcile the Biblical narrative of the Earth's formation with ~Science. They cared about this for some obvious reasons, like figuring out whether Newton or Descartes was right about the physics of motion, and testing Newton's gravitational theory; and there were practical reasons as well (the modern science of geodesy, which is what you need to make "accurate" maps for consolidating your state and conquering places, and to, say, build a railway, gets born as part of this). But they cared about it for another reason too. Namely: after the Thirty Years' War, there was a real sense of dislocation in Western Europe. This dislocation was religious, political, and social all at once. There was thus a serious need to realign political and social order with the cosmic order, and the Enlightenment and Scientific Revolution are significantly responses to this. Empirical knowledge (especially math) was to be the universal language that would allow people to communicate across differences rather than engaging in bloody warfare (they were quite explicit about this, especially Leibnitz, but if you know to look for it you can read it in Hobbes, Locke, Newton, Descartes...there was a reason they all suddenly got obsessed with reason), and the "Quest for the Figure of the Earth" was part of that. So was the emergence of geology a bit later, as the history of the earth becomes increasingly scientific rather than Biblical; the questions that created geology came out of these initial struggles to conceive of the Earth as a "natural" artifact to be known by science. This matters here because it means a redefinition of what the Earth is and what can happen there that is not just a matter of scientific debate but is fundamentally connected to social and political understandings of the world. In other words, it redefines what “the Earth” is as a place and in its cosmic place. One consequence of the new rational empiricism as a reaction to a war understood as being caused by religious ontological commitments and enthusiasms was a transformation in what counted as real. On the one hand, things that under the old Aristotelian paradigm were treated as real but imperceptible and therefore impossible to study (like magnetism) became newly study-able. In the Newtonian, empirical paradigm, you don't have to be able to say what something is or even what physical qualities it has; only to demonstrate its reliable and reproducible effects. On the other, things not observable in these terms become defined as unreal. At the same time, the shift from an Aristotelian to a Newtonian science is itself, precisely, a shift from a world explained by regions to a world explained by space. "Regions" here means places, but it also means directions like up and down. Aristotelian physics held that substances behaved in certain ways (like smoke rising and rocks falling) because it was in their essential nature to belong in different places. In other words, different areas of the world, as well as different substances, were ontologically different in real ways that had real effects. In modern empiricism, this is not at all the case. The laws of how things behave are universal laws. They are not about belonging, difference, and places/directions that have their own meanings and hierarchy; they are about forces interacting contingently. It's exactly Newton who formulates the idea of "absolute space" as an infinite and homogeneous, but insensible (like magnetism) extent over which things are distributed. Forces’ specific interactions may be locally different, but the forces are translocal and indeed universal, because they happen in the single homogeneous substrate that is space. So all of this percolates through various levels of society and fields of knowledge through the 18th century and into the 19th (and up to today). One effect is the redefinition of ghosts, fairies, elves, and so on as not real. It takes a very long time for this news to really reach everybody, though; I've read accounts of rural peasants in the British Isles and Ireland who still fully believed and practiced fairy lore into the 20th century. You also see some wobbles, like the famous hoax involving fairies and Yeats, in part because new technologies are making new things observable and therefore potentially “real” in the Newtonian terms. Thus Spiritualism, for example, was in many ways a practice of reliably producing observable effects of things that are not themselves observable; its attempt at credibility was pursued in Newtonian terms.

At the same time, after initial big achievements in geodesy, the figure of the earth keeps getting refined, details filled in, and so on. The same thing happens to the underground with geology. It similarly takes a while for this to really settle in; you have older formats like isolaria and cosmographic maps overlapping with properly spatial, cartographic mapping. (An isolarium is a world atlas that doesn't try to put all the pieces together but treats every landmass individually as an island. The islands tend to get filled in with what we would now consider fantastical stuff because the mapping enterprise, with isolaria, was all about places and their different characters; things did not have to be consistent, there was no homogeneous substrate. That fantastical stuff is part of what's called "cosmography.") So by the time you have people studying folklore in the 19th century, in these same countries and others, as part of nationalist projects and what have you, these educated elite types are likely to have accepted the following. 1) We know the shape and nature of the earth--not in every particular, but we know that physical conditions are basically the same everywhere--and 2) what is empirically unobservable is not real; and 3) space is a dimension, it is homogeneous, it is the dimension in which things that exist exist. (Plato is howling somewhere.) To be clear, #1 especially matters here because it means the idea that there might be places where things behave/occur abnormally gets ruled out. Long before the maps had actually been filled in, there were "no blank spaces" on them anymore. (Insofar as they ever did get filled in, that still hadn't happened by the turn of the 20th century. I actually have a personal theory about where the blanks are now, but that's a whole other digression.) Therefore, if you want to collect and make a fuss over stories about unreal beings and events occurring in places where the universal laws of physics and histories of geology do not seem to obtain, you cannot fit these beings, events, and settings into the world in which you understand yourself to live. There is quite literally nowhere to put them. They cannot exist in a physical, geodetic, geologic world of space; they cannot coexist with its elements. Let us now note that in the 19th century we also get the Spiritualist movement, which conjures up lots of ghosts and puts them behind a Veil. Ghosts in this framework are real, but they cannot be here. They can visit, but only by "piercing the veil." I therefore further surmise that, likely without being fully conscious or intentional about it, these folklorists and such had to assume that when people talk about a fairy court, etc., they are talking about another dimension, one different from the spatial dimension that we live in. (This is the same assumption the experts I was dumping on at the beginning make; this is what I mean about a commonsense spatial sensibility.) The language of "the veil" may well be influenced by Spiritualism, or may not; I think the "thin places" and "times when the veil is thinnest" stuff is even more recent than the Victorians, like mid-20th century. But what matters more IMO is that the two moves--what happens to ghosts in Spiritualism and what happens to fairies etc. in folklore--are parallel. They both get kicked out of here, they get made not part of "the world." The world is one place, and what is "not real" has no place in it. So in order to talk about interacting with those things that have no place here in the world, it becomes natural, maybe inevitable, to talk about what separates them from us. You need a barrier to explain why something that exists (if you believe it does) is not visible and testable all the time and everywhere, or to make sense of how other people could believe such a thing exists.

There is a very deep irony to all this, though. In making the world a single place with a single set of conditions and a single set of possibilities for what can happen and what can exist, right, we end up creating this “other realm” where all the other stuff is. In physics there is talk of a “quantum realm” exactly because the conditions, behaviors, objects, and so forth found there seem to behave differently from the “classical realm” of our experience. But "realm” is a very unstable and ambiguous word, not clearly spatial or placial. The irony is that what we have here is, still, in fact a discourse about two places. We just don’t even know that, because our formal thinking has become so spatialized. Thus the nature of the barrier between the two or how it could be possible for conditions to be so different in the “other realm” remains fundamentally mysterious--let alone what “crossing over” could possibly entail. Hence a metaphor like “the veil” becomes important and necessary not just to generate another place to put these unreal things, and not just to explain why these unreal things are not here in the real world/place, but also to paper over the basic absurdity of the whole premise. We have come full circle in that we are still basically talking about there being other places where things are different, but we have made it much more mysterious and confusing than it was (I believe) when it was just accepted that the world contains many places where things may be different.

[mfkinanaa]

SUN IN PISCES.

Pisces: Mutable Water       

Ruler: Jupiter

Keywords: Service, Sacrifice, Compassion, Mysticism

Functional Expression: Empathy, intuition, sensitivity, service, imaginative, extremely creative, devotional

Dysfunctional Expression: Ungrounded, victim, suffering through sacrifice, addictive, critical, afraid, lost.

Transcending Limits.

With the Sun in Pisces, a sense of self come from being “in the world”, and yet not “of the world”. Pisceans tend to be motivated by the desire to connect to realities greater than the ‘here and now”. They need to live the truth that there is more to life than meets the eye.

Whilst this may seem an abstract statement, Pisceans inhabit dimensions of reality that transcends the every day. Pisces, as the final and perhaps least understood sign of the Zodiac, represents many mysteries. It governs those facets of experience that go beyond the purely physical.

Those with the Sun in Pisces are often highly imaginative, sensitive and impressionable people. They sometimes struggle with the fundamental duality in their nature. It could be said that one half of them is attempting to chart a realistic course through life whilst the other half is seeking ways to escape it.

Pisces is a Mutable Water sign. This brings together themes of flux, sensitivity and imagination. As mentioned, this is a sign of duality. The challenge with the Sun in Pisces is developing a clear sense of purpose when there is a fundamental urge to transcend the limitations of material form.

This struggle is symbolically depicted by the two complementary yet opposing fish that represents this sign. One Fish could be described as having a firm focus on the world around. On this level, Pisceans come across as street smart or “world-wary”, with a sense that nothing anyone does would surprise them.

As the final sign of the Zodiac, Pisces has integrated every facet of self-expression, and so carries within its symbolism the sum total of human experience. Whilst they may not agree with a particular behaviour usually at some level they can understand.

Their empathy and compassion means they sense where others are coming from, and so can relate on a certain level. This awareness gives Pisceans the ability to deal with any situation, and they do well in any area which involves understanding others. They may not like what they see, but their ability to respond to what is in front of them means they can appear to be both experienced and open.

Yet on the other hand, the second Fish seeks to transcend the mundane. This part of them is not connected to everyday experience. As much as they may appear to be present and connected, they can also feel as if they are swimming away – typically to more pleasant seas.

Sometimes may drift off into dimensions they are not even aware themselves. The need to transcend the everyday is just as important as the need to engage with the here and now. And so, within this complex dilemma, those with the Sun in Pisces develop a sense of self-experiencing a constant state of flux between emotional, psychological and spiritual expressions of self.

Their challenge is to allow both aspects of self to exist side by side, and so find optimal ways of channeling these qualities into everyday life.

A Multi-dimensional Experience.

To achieve this synthesis, there are usually three key dimensions of experience that feature for them.

For many with the Sun in Pisces, the theme of transcendence will express through a sense of compassion. By connecting with the emotional fields of others they ‘escape’ their own limited space. Merging energies allows them to feel expanded and useful.

For others, they will experience transcendence through their creative or imaginal lives. There is often a strong affinity with abstract forms of creativity. Taking time out to explore the imagination is time well spent.

Thirdly, the domain of spirituality and devotion may feature, and for some Pisceans transcending the everyday means exploring metaphysical realms.

As is the nature of this sign, Pisces can operate on all three levels from time to time, and sometimes all at once! It is normal for those with the Sun in Pisces to be in multiple dimensions at any given moment of the day. In whatever way it suits, they need to find a way to channel their sensitivities and move beyond a limited identification with only the here and now.

Intuitive Insight.

Pisceans are typically gifted with incredible insight. Their intuition will reveal much about people and circumstances, when they are willing to see things clearly.

Pisceans can be almost prophetic at times. Yet to achieve this level of clarity they must exercise constant self-awareness and discipline. They have the ability to be one step ahead at every turn, always pre-empting what others need and how they will respond. Thus they can succeed at almost anything.

Yet just as easily, they can become confused by the bombardment of impressions influencing them. They may have trouble discerning between what is outside themselves, versus what is rising up within. Sometimes the “feelings” they have about others will be birthed in their own imagination, or in through their desire to escape from what they deep down know.

Sun in Pisces can have a tendency to ‘put on rose-coloured glasses’ – so seeing the world or others in an idealised form. They can see merits that do not exist in an effort to make a situation special, unique or romantic somehow.

The desire to transcend the ordinary (not face reality) sometimes means they give others the benefit of the doubt when they should not. Their inability to discern between intuition and desire means they can become easily confused. When this happens, they can find themselves enmeshed in situations where their good nature is taken advantage of.

Then they must learn to reestablish boundaries, becoming clear about when – and to whom – they should say no.

Suffering and Sacrifice.

Pisces is connected with states of victim consciousness. The Sun in Pisces individual needs to constantly monitor when they might be allowing themselves to fall victim to some external influence as a way of opting out.

Being the victim is a way of giving in to a sense of not being able to cope with life. They may carry an inner need to be taken care of – which is in fact a way of escaping from discipline or hard work.

Pisces is known as the sign of least resistance and sometimes Pisces will seek the easy way out. They become victim to some kind of habit or circumstance that ends up ‘validating’ their belief that they need to be rescued.

Should they believe is that life is hard, cruel or dangerous, then the only apparent route open to them is escape, either into some kind of addictive habit (drugs, alcohol, romance), or into victimhood.

A special mention must be made here of addiction, for this is one of Pisces preferred means of escape. Under the apparent haze of a habit they ‘cant control’ Pisces can avoid taking responsibility for themselves. The temptation to lose oneself in the haze of addiction can have a glamorous appeal with disastrous consequences.

Another habit that can take over their lives is the need to be in control. Sometimes sensitivity and paranoia combine to create obsessive behavioural patterns that are just as difficult to break.

In an urge to stem the tide of constant change that flows through their lives some with the Sun in Pisces develop OCD qualities. The need to clean their house obsessively is one such manifestation of the urge to maintain control.

When they become depleted by exposure to others or simply to negative influences they can become become overwhelmed by emotions which blocks the ability to maintain a clear sense of self.

Paranoia and phobias can start to take hold. They find themselves reacting to an impending sense of chaos by trying to adopt rigourous forms of control. To stem the tide of flux they develop personal rituals that are meant to somehow “protect them” from change. Then their sensitivities confuse them and they can retreat into a world of obsessive ritual.

Being so sensitive has its challenges. Learning to “be in the world, but not of the world” takes both time and self-awareness.

Creativity and Imagination.

At the creative and imaginal level, Pisces tends to have an easier time. Here, they are in their element, swimming through vivid waters of fantasy and imagination.

Many Pisceans have strong creative leanings, and need to find an outlet for their inspirations. In many ways, this is about finding a means to express all the impressions they constantly feel. Anything with a strong visual and emotional component is a natural vehicle for the Piscean imagination. Certain abstract art forms have an especially Piscean tone, including film, photography, dance, drama, music and fluid forms of painting.

It is highly therapeutic for Pisceans to spend time in creative pursuits, either through their own creative projects or simply immersing themselves in some one else creative work. Through imagination they find ways to leave the everyday and stay self-contained.

Time alone is vital for their well-being, and experiencing creativity is an excellent means of having time out. Daydreaming or connecting with the imagination is like an internal reboot. When they imagine they find food for the soul. It is important for Pisces to withdraw into themselves in order to connect. Time spent alone, in nature, or by the water is a powerful tool for self-development.

Acts of Service.

Another level of expression can come about through finding ways to be of service. Pisceans are often gifted with compassion and have a strong urge to be of service to others somehow. Here they bring special gifts.

Because they so easily empathise, they know instinctively what others need to hear. Because they can at some level comprehend all facets of human experience, they do not tend to judge. Instead they can offer unconditional service based on pure acceptance.

Many with the Sun in Pisces feel a calling to be of service that should not be ignored. They can do this in their everyday lives through helping those less fortunate, in their professional lives by pursuing careers that allow they to help, serve or heal, or through volunteering extra time and service to community groups.

As ever though, they need to be on guard against tendencies to give the self away. Many Pisceans seem to have an inner conviction that in order to be of service, they must also suffer in some way. This is part of a potent cultural belief structure which suggests it is in fact noble to suffer in the act of service – a hangover from 2000 years of misinterpreted Christian theology.

The willingness to sacrifice is a highly commendable virtue, but the idea that they need to be suffering if they are to be of true service is slightly displaced. Pisceans can be more effective, and inspiring to others, if they simultaneously demonstrate self-care.

Their task is to embody the example of radiant well-being they wish to manifest in others lives. Their compassionate nature means that there is no question where their allegiance lies. They give for the sake of giving and usually do not seek anything in return. But it is important Sun in Pisces do not give themselves away in the process, and should watch out for the temptation to seek escape by becoming overwhelmed.

Spiritual Development.

Finally, Pisces is a highly mystical and psychic sign, and these abilities can also spill over into powerful healing or clairvoyant abilities. A deep sense of devotion and heightened spirituality is often present, so that service is offered not only to the individual or group but also to the Divine.

Many Pisceans experience a very personal relationship to the spiritual dimension of life. They may not be conventionally religious, but will have their own personal set of rituals or beliefs that express a broad relationship to the Divine.

There may be private things they do on their own time which express a deep spiritual connection. Some Pisceans can also become a vehicle for spiritual illumination, and access transpersonal dimensions of experience to acquire specific information.

History is replete with mysterious situations where ‘knowledge’ brought through from non-material planes has lead to outstanding developments. Medical insights birthed in the ancient world, architectural triumphs which remain unexplained or experiences of past-lives and other dimensions are all examples of knowledge systems which transcend the everyday.

Pisceans tend to specialize in this kind of insight, having access to intuitive wisdom that is commonly termed ‘psychic’. They may have precognition of the future or meaningful dreams which explain the situations in unknown ways. Recognizing and developing these latent sensitivities is an important part of the Piscean experience. Time spent in meditation or developing the “sixth sense” is important.

In the end, grounding these psychic abilities may prove to be the most significant way to transcend the everyday.

Sun in Pisces: Your Solar Journey.

Born with the Sun in Pisces, your journey involves learning how to be in the world but not of it. You have powerful and mysterious gifts of sensitivity, insight, imagination and creativity. Used wisely, these talents will allow you to be of service, both to yourself in achieving what you want in life and also to others. Your challenge is to find ways of bringing your multi-dimensional, sensitive self into harmony with the material world by becoming clear on what you feel and maintaining appropriate boundaries. When you hold your space and see things clearly, you can become a self-contained source of love, inspiration, and practical wisdom for all the world to share. As you learn to take care of your own sensitivity, you nurture your imaginative and spiritual gifts. You can excel in any field that requires human understanding, whilst your deep sense of compassion will let you find outlets which allow you to serve, help and heal.

[missjosie27]

Prompt Response #40- Ethren Whitecross

“Would it really be a crime to let yourself have some fun once in a while?”

The first in the responses for the prompts. I will say in advance that not all of this may make sense or appear ‘canon’. It’s also a sequel to ‘The Other World’ a story I wrote awhile back in honor of Ethren Whitecross. What first started out as a fun concept between two MCs, I turned into this for better or worse. And it was tough at times emotionally. But I poured my heart and soul into it. It is also non-canon and completely AU. That being said, I do love the multiverse and this was a great way to explore that.

@hogwartsmysterystory​ My friend. This is for you. And for Ethren. I hope you like it.

It had taken many moons for David Grant to achieve what was previously thought to impossible: the ability to hop dimensions at will. Since the end of the war and his mind blowing foray into the universe that housed another curse breaker, the twenty five year old not only joined the Department of Mysteries part time in addition to being reinstated as an Auror but began exploring the power of the veil for more timelines.

It was partially due to self interest, which his boss Croaker didn’t need to know about. Happy to further the Department’s investigations of the unknown magical branches, the experience of visiting another world had touched him so deeply David resolved to do more investigating: specifically if there were any other scenarios involving Ethren Whitecross in which he did not die. Despite technically never meeting the American, he already felt a sense of kinship with him, a kind of surreal connection one couldn’t explain in so many words.

He deserved better...so much better

Many months passed, but at last David was able to tinker with the magical properties of the veil so that it revealed a wondrous discovery: the cosmos was damn well infinite. Billions of people making billions of choices creating infinite earths. And it didn’t take long for him to discover a timeline in which Ethren was still alive and in Hogwarts.

“Hang on, mate. I’m coming,” he said as he stepped through, making sure his protections were sufficient to protect him from the other realm the veil lead to: death.

Of course, David had never actually met Ethren for obvious reasons and so had no idea what to expect from him. The only aspects of his life he knew for certain were that he was American, died in the war, engaged in a relationship with Merula and unknowingly had a son in the process. The other timeline’s Merula had given him more grisly details, but nothing so specific as to his personality, likes, dislikes, or anything else.

As it turned out, much to his chagrin, Ethren Whitecross was a bit sour to say the least.

He was short for a male, only 5’6 but with intense, clear blue eyes to go along with caramel brown hair and conventionally attractive features. He wasn’t terribly athletic but could swing a beater’s bat well enough. Similar to himself however, Ethren was a top notch dueler and excelled in the subjects he genuinely enjoyed, but struggling in those he did not care for. However, his less than sunny disposition was certainly off putting and it didn’t take long to figure out why.

“So let me get this straight,” Ethren said skeptically as they lay on the shores of the lake at Hogwarts. “You’re from another universe where my family never existed and in my universe your family never existed. Like me, you’re an amateur cursebreaker, date Merula, and apparently need to warn me about my impending death? Do I have everything correctly?”

“Uh, yeah that pretty much sums it up,” came the response.

Unfortunately for David, he had stumbled into a timeline where Ethren was completing his 7th year at Hogwarts as opposed to being a full grown adult. But it was just as well, finding Ethren was easy given his reputation. Getting him to believe his story was quite another debacle altogether.

“Well, guess what, you’re a bit too late. I already know I’m dying from my blood malediction and that R still wants to kill me. By the way, thank you so much for bringing up such a painful subject. A paper cut with lemon juice would have sufficed.”

He got up to leave but David moved to stop him.

“Wait, wait, hear me out. I can explain everything in a bit more detail.”

“Or I could go back to the library and read.”

David scoffed.

“More like you would brood all day.”

Ethren flushed from indignation.

“And how would you know that?”

“Believe me, I know enough...look I’m just trying to help.”

“My cranky on and off girlfriend is a bigger help than you’re being right now and that’s saying something.”

David took a breath of the evening Scotland air and breathed out. He should have known it wouldn’t be this easy, but that last statement left an uneasy sensation in his stomach. He remembered vividly a drunken twenty six year old Merula wanted by the law while drowning herself in vodka tonics and narcissistic self loathing. He was beginning to see just how much of an emotional toll she was taking on the poor lad. So he decided to switch gears.

“Look, I have an idea. Classes are done for the day right, you’re a legal wizarding adult...come hang out with me for a couple hours.”

“I can’t leave Hogwarts,” Ethren shot back.

“Right, since when did Dumbledore’s rules ever stop us from leaving whenever we wanted?”

“Point taken but still no.”

“By God, Would it really be a crime to let yourself have fun once in a while?” David half laughed in amazement. “Trust me, let’s go have a good time and I’ll explain everything afterwards, alright?”

He didn’t think it would work given the clear suspicion still lurking in those blue eyes but to his surprise, Ethren relented and nodded.

“Fine.”

“You can apparate right?”

“Yes and I can also blow you to smithereens if you try anything funny.”

“You know part of me does want to know what would happen if we ever dueled,” David grinned. “However, I went through a war mate. Got a bit of a head start on ya.”

“Fantastic.”

“And here I thought we Brits were the uptight and sarcastic ones. Aren’t Yanks supposed to be expressive?”

Ethren simply snorted and walked past him into the open field.

“Be thankful I’m saying anything at all.”

The two young men walked until they reached the boundaries of the school just beyond the entrance, David leading the way.

“Follow my lead,” he said. “Unless you can’t keep up,” he added teasingly.

“Just go,” came the grumpy response.

Bollocks, this is going to be harder than I thought David mused to himself with exasperation

And with a loud *pop they apparated into the sunset.

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

It didn’t take long for the two to land in random cobblestone street with Ethren keeling over, grimacing severely.

“Yeah I hate apparation too,” David said, pulling out a flask and taking a sip. “You get used to it.”

“I only recently passed.”

“Fair. Which is why where I’m taking you next will simultaneously relieve that discomfort and get you to loosen up.”

Ethren looked up and saw a wooden sign in maroon lettering which read the words ‘The Mayfair.’

“A bar?”

“Never underestimate the value of a pub,” David told him sagely. And before the younger lad could object he pushed him inside the door.

Inside was a setting not altogether spectacular. There was a small dining area, a large bar that spanned about fifty feet with two bulky TVs that currently were playing the latest football matches. However there was also a small staging area that contained a microphone with another TV sitting overhead. A sizable crowd graced its floors- a hodgepodge of young professionals, crusty regulars, football fans, and those who were just looking for a good time. Which was precisely why they were there.

In his time after Hogwarts and during the war David found that muggle bars offered a lot more in terms of entertainment and alcohol: a primary factor in why he chose a casual London pub as opposed to a place like the Leaky Cauldron. Muggles also tended to write better music which was also key to this night.

“It’s a good thing we aren’t in robes,” Ethren said above the general chatter of the pub.

“I made sure your classes were over before we came here,” David replied. His own dress was unremarkable: brown leather boots, jeans, jacket, and a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt (they were the most popular band in the world in the late eighties/early nineties after all). They fit right in.

David dragged Ethren over to the counter and caught the attention of the barkeep, knowing full well that in England you never got carded for ID as they did in America.

“Two Guinnesses please.”

“You got it.”

He flipped a couple of pounds and soon enough was presented with two full tankards of the dark stout.

“Cheers, mate,” David told him, clinking his glass with Ethren’s.

The twenty five year old relished the taste but clearly his counterpart did not, grimacing as though he had swallowed stinksap.

“Dear God that’s awful. Why do you drink this stuff?”

“Keep sipping and you’ll find out,” came the cheeky reply.

Ethren merely shrugged and did his best to keep drinking. David peered around and saw the exact person he wanted to see: the DJ.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back.”

For his part, Ethren Whitecross was highly confused by this whole affair. He still wasn’t sure he believed that this person, whoever they were, was supposedly a dimension traveler who’d apparently met another version of himself by accident. It was just too insane to believe. And yet somehow he knew details about his life that no one else popping up like that could know.

And now he wants to just drink our night away at a bar? What is this guy about?

Indeed, that appeared to be the most intriguing aspect of this. David Grant apparently not only came back to warn him but to spend time together as if they were old friends. Ethren wasn’t sure how he felt about that just yet given that R was still after him however this fellow didn’t appear to be unseemly...yet anyway. For now, he decided to keep drinking the beer, which oddly enough began to make him feel a bit warm and fuzzy in the head.

Soon enough David returned a big grin on his face.

“Finish that up soon. We’re on next.”

“Next for what?” Ethren asked, utterly nonplussed.

“My friend you are about to experience the wonders of karaoke.”

“Kara-what?”

David laughed, deep and true then drained his beer in one gulp.

“You’re about to find out.”

Ethren found himself dragged away to the staging area where they were handed two microphones and a pair of spotlights shone down on them.

“Should have asked this beforehand but how familiar are you with muggle music?”

“Umm not very?” came the unenthusiastic answer.

“Do you know ‘Piano Man’ by Billy Joel?”

Ethren nodded. His father kept a collection of old muggle records at home and that was a song played quite frequently sometimes to his chagrin.

“Yeah, I know that one.”

“Smashing. We’ll be just fine.”

The crowd started to cheer as the opening piano chords began to play. Ethren squirmed uncomfortably but David put a strong hand around his shoulder and began to sing in earnest. There was no backing out now.

“It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday

The regular crowd shuffles in

There’s an old man sitting next to me

Making love to his tonic and gin”

Ethren had to admit that this stranger sang well, but he wasn’t so much of a musician himself. But he had no choice as the microphone was pressed into his face.

“He said son can you play me a melody

I’m not really sure how it goes

But it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete

When I wore a younger man’s clothes”

The young Gryffindor understood better why the beer was necessary. One drink already had him buzzing but it sure loosened inhibitions. Slowly he began to enjoy himself as he belted the chorus alongside David.

“Sing us the the song, you’re the piano man

Sing us the song, tonight

Well we’re all in the mood for a melody

And you got us feeling alright”

To Ethren’s amazement the crowd began cheering despite the fact his pitch was probably way off. Apparently it didn't matter how good or bad you were at actualling singing, enthusiasm for the song and the camaraderie of the patrons was enough to send everyone into a frenzy. Feeding off that energy, the two young men sang into the Scotland night, following the lyrics with gusto.

“Sing us the song, you’re the piano man

Sing us the song, tonight

Well we’re all in the mood for a melody

And you got us feeling alright”

The last of the harmonica sounded off into the exit riff of the piano and the song was over. Ethren could hardly believe it ended so fast, but the cheers of the crowd were practically deafening. Indeed the feeling was so exhilarating, he almost didn’t notice the shadowed face of his counterpart, lines of worry practically melting off his face.

Perhaps he wasn’t the only cursebreaker that had problems.

Afterwards, the two sat down and drank a few more beers, which were on the house due to their riveting performance. Several regulars gave them cheers and pats on the back. The two chatted about a number of things, but it wasn’t until they stepped outside for a breath of fresh air that the conversation turned honest and even somber.

David lit a cigarette and took a long inhale before issuing smoke.

“Told ya I knew how to have fun.”

“Maybe I wasn’t the only one in need of it,” Ethren observed astutely.

The older man shrugged but tried to play it cool.

“I’ve been through…a lot,” he said simply. “Moments like the one in the bar are the kind that kept me going over the years. It’s what makes life so wonderful even when it’s not.”

Ethren paused before asking.

“How old are you?”

“Twenty five to be exact. Twenty six in four months.”

“You look five years beyond that.”

It was blunt but David knew by now Ethren didn’t pull punches. He could relate to that. Neither did he.

“I didn’t come back merely to warn you about your malediction, Ethren,” he said quietly. “You beat that.”

“So...I die another way?”

David swallowed, feeling a lump pop up in his throat. Now was not the time to get super emotional. He needed to tell the truth.

“You have a relationship with Merula just as I do, yeah?”

“I do. Though I can’t say it’s always a happy one. We either bicker or just end up making out half the time.”

The older man chuckled sardonically, knowing full well what his wife was like when she was sixteen.

“Sounds about right. Believe me, I know how she is sometimes.”

“You’re at least eight years older than I am right now….what happened with you and her?”

David knew this was the moment he came back for. The essence of his visit.

“We married after Hogwarts. During the war, she was kidnapped by her parents and placed under the imperius curse. I was able to free her during the Battle of Hogwarts.”

Ethren’s eyes were practically popping out of their sockets.

“Wait, wait back up. There’s a war? Merula becomes a Death Eater?”

“Let me explain,” David said, raising his hands in the air whilst also flicking his cigarette. “Yes, You Know Who will return in four years time and begin a new war against the Ministry. And no, my wife did not become a Death Eater. She was shanghaied against her will. At that point in her life, she wanted nothing to do with her parents. Can you say the same for yours?”

Ethren’s head was practically spinning at this newfound revelation. He felt a desperate need to sit down but remained standing, running a hand through his caramel locks.

“She...she would never.”

“If you believe that, you’re wrong. If Merula doesn’t break off her toxic relationship with her parents, she’ll go right back to them once they’re freed from Azkaban.”

Denial morphed into pain as the younger man shook his head.

“Why...why would she do that?”

“You know as well as I do how badly she wants their approval and how it affects her judgement. My Merula made the right choice, but I also helped her to see what kind of path she was heading in. You must do the same.”

“And what happens if I don’t?”

In a reversal of moods, David’s hazel blue eyes bore into Ethren’s crystal blue ones, hardening with each passing second, though there was still tremendous sympathy.

“I will not lie, however the answer will be difficult for you to hear. You will each find yourself on the opposite side of the coming conflict and Merula will realize her error far too late. In the end, you will sacrifice your life for hers during a great battle. And as a result, a son will never know his father.”

Tears were forming into Ethren’s eyes and David was trying his best not to do the same though it was becoming increasingly difficult.

“W-what...what should I do?”

“Guide her,” David responded softly. “Show her that there is a better way to happiness than simply attaining power. Help her to see that she can trust people unconditionally and that those people are not her parents….especially her mother,” he added with a heavy hint of disgust.

“I don’t know if I can,” the teenage Gryffindor said, his voice still wavering. “She won’t listen to me. She never has.”

“She will. I guarantee it.”

David stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Ethren, embracing him in a hug while silent tears fell from his eyes.

“You can do it, Ethren. I’ve seen war, I’ve seen death, and I’ve seen a world where a family was ended before it began. Trust me when I say this, you and Merula Snyde are meant for each other for better or worse. And if I can do my part to ensure you end up happy instead of six feet under, I damn well won’t hesitate.”

They broke apart with both men wiping their eyes.

“Bloody alcohol,” David joked.

“I think I’ll hold off on any more beers.”

The older man placed a hand on Ethren’s shoulder though this time he did not hug him but instead gave a final guiding message.

“I made a promise to thank you for what you did for my wife and to honor your memory. This way, I can do both. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart. Now go break your malediction, defeat R, and live the life you deserve.”

Ethren nodded, finally gaining back control of his emotions but also feeling a deeper sense of purpose as well as gratitude to this stranger.

“I don’t know how to thank you,” he said somewhat lamely, cursing his lack of ability to express his feelings properly.

“You’ll never have to,” David responded kindly. “Consider it a favor from one friend to another.”

He released Ethren’s shoulder and nodded with a smile.

“Now let’s get you back to Hogwarts. If memory serves, I believe curfew should be soon. Don’t want Snape catching you out of bed.”

Ethren gave a smile of his own.

“Since when has Dumbledore’s rules stopped us?”

David laughed one more time before they disapparated with a small *pop.

“Never.”

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

Merula Snyde did not like feeling guilty. It was a useless emotion better left for fools who believed in sentimentality and other such nonsense. But when it came to one special boy, her heart could not help serve as a constant reminder of how much she mistreated him. Such as their fight from earlier that morning.

Working late into the night in the library, the ambitious Slytherin had poured through book after book and page after page in order to see if there was anything about maledictions they hadn’t already discovered or knew about thus far. In a sense, it was her attachment to Whitecross and their past experiences together that drove her to do as she did. There was no need to say that you cared, that’s what saving him from his blood curse was for. Even so, the young Slytherin couldn’t avoid the guilt or her memories.

“Why do you do this?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific, Whitecross. Spit it out.”

The Gryffindor clenched his fists but then let out a sigh and then unclenched them as they stood outside in the corridor near Charms.

“You claim you’re on my side but not once do you ever take responsibility for your own shortcomings. Nothing is ever your fault or a bad idea. Is it your job in life to torture me?”

Merula snorted as she dismissed him yet again.

“You torture yourself enough all on your own. If there was a shred of common sense in that empty head of yours, you’d acknowledge that you don’t have the bollocks to take out R same as it was with Rakepick. I’m not going to apologize for speaking the truth.”

Ethren usually swept aside her barbs no problem but this one appeared to hit home in a way her usual ones did not. He took her hand in his.

“Merula, I don’t know that I can call you my girlfriend anymore...I’m not sure what we are. But...those feelings we have won’t just go away. Why can’t you just at least pretend you care about me?”

But his appeal to her better senses fell flat as she withdrew her hand and gave a hard stare with her vivid, violet eyes.

“If you want a hug, Whitecross go to Haywood. Don’t waste my time.”

And without another word, she spun around in her combat boots and walked off not bothering to see the pained reaction on his face.

Merula clenched her jaw as the remorse became almost overwhelming. Why? Why was she like this? It wouldn’t kill her to throw the poor blighter a bone now and then, right?

“What’s wrong with me?” she whispered aloud.

A second voice entered her mind, one that was hauntingly familiar.

You should know better. There are no such things as happy endings. The only person anyone can rely on is themselves….

The voice became disturbingly soothing.

You’re special my little blackbird. I will always love you

Merula resisted the urge to cry as she planted her face on one of the many books layed out in front of her. She did not care if Madam Pince yelled at her for staying too late. Wallowing within her inner demons outweighed any potential punishment.

“I never realized the true depth of your self loathing narcissism until much later in life,” spoke a voice. It frightened her so much, that she jumped at least a foot in the air and wheeled around, wand in hand.

Standing by the window of the library was a young man, light beard, longish brown hair, tall, wearing a Guns N’ Roses t-shirt, brown boots, and a dark cloak. He wore his hoodie up and so could not see the face clearly. Nevertheless, she kept her wand trained on him.

“Who are you and what do you want? I promise I’m the last witch you want to mess with,” she snarled.

“My identity is inconsequential. As for what I want, I only wish to impart a gift.”

Merula did not believe a word of what this stranger said and had half a mind to hex him if it wasn’t for the fact that damaging the library in such a manner was a bannable offense.

“Whatever the intentions, you picked a really bad spot. Don’t you know where you are? Madam Pince will disembowel anyone who mucks about in here...of course she won’t have the honor of doing so before I do.”

A condescending chuckle emanated from underneath the hood.

“I have a silencing charm and a protective ward around this area. We won’t be interrupted I assure you. In any case, what I have planned isn’t going to take long.”

The teenage Slytherin silently checked the magical energies around her and realized he was right. Those kinds of wards were only the kind powerful Aurors knew or worse. All of a sudden, real fear entered Merula’s bones though she did her best to hide it.

“W-What are you going to do? What is this?”

The figure did not move, only uttering a single sentence.

“The day you finally understand.”

He was too quick for her to react properly, so fast was the draw of his wand. There was an incantation she didn’t recognize and a jet of white light that struck her in the forehead.

A swarm of images flashed through Merula’s mind and she was forced to witness every single one of them: two teenagers triumphing over an evil organization, an emotional breakup, darkness arising in the British wizarding world, an escape from Azkaban, a young woman kneeling before the Dark Lord, a night of raw passion, the birth of a child, and finally the scene of a young man with an arrow lodged in his chest, a despondent woman in Death Eater robes sobbing over the lifeless body.

‘Ethren! Ethren! ETHREN! PLEASE! DON’T GO!!!’

Then just as quickly as they came the images were gone and so was the unknown figure. Only a reeling and emotionally fragile young woman who had only one thought on her mind.

“Ethren,” she breathed out.

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

The young Gryffindor teen was slightly annoyed as Jae told him someone was waiting outside the tower for him. Who on earth was so desperate to talk to him this late at night? Did they not have the password or some other such nonsense? He wasn’t in the mood for a prank.

As he stepped past the portrait of the Fat Lady, however, his questions were answered right away as a mess of brown hair with an orange tuft slammed into him.

“What the- Merula?”

“Ethren,” she whispered as she clung to him for dear life. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”

Utterly shocked, Ethren separated himself ever so slightly, still holding her in arms and looked into beautiful, violet eyes; eyes that were swimming with tears.

“Sorry? For what?”

“For everything...I didn’t realize...I didn’t know…”

Words failed her as she pressed her lips against his. Ethren didn’t hold back, returning the passionate kiss, long and deep. Fireworks were exploding in his mind.

When they broke apart, he saw she was still crying but there was also the same determination that sparkled in the orbs he’d come to love for better or worse.

“Things are going to be different from now on...I promise. I love you,” she said.

Ethren traced a finger along her soft, porcelain cheek, taking in the small freckles that dotted her adorable nose. He’d never felt so amazing, so enamored with the girl in front of him.

“I love you, too.”

As they embraced once more, Ethren Whitecross couldn’t help but think of the man who’d changed his life in one fell swoop. The one who’d gotten him to simultaneously sing karaoke and drink Guinness on the most memorable night of his young life. He smiled as he took in the scent of cloves, nail polish...and something elusive.

Thank you, David Grant

[putschki1969]

Hikaru//’s Free Writing Vol.#2

Note: This is my English translation of Hikaru//’s Free Writing Vol.#2. Please enjoy!

『teamLab Borderless Forgetting Time Within “Art without Borders”』〜 Hikaru//’s Free Writing Vol.#2〜

Hello, this is Hikaru//. In this second column I will be doing another "report" just like I did in Vol.#1. I was super thrilled on the day of the shoot because I have always been interested in this place! This time we went to... 『MORI Building DIGITAL ART MUSEUM: EPSON teamLab Borderless』 !

The nearest stations are Aomi Station on the Yurikamome Line or Tokyo Teleport Station on the Rinkai Line. In the stations you will see lots of posters guiding you to the venue. When you look at all the ads you will get even more excited!

At the venue itself visitors are asked to wear a mask as a measure against COVID-19. You also need to disinfect you hands at the entrance. If you wish you can also get disposable vinyl gloves. On the left side of the entrance there are also lots of coin lockers where you can store your luggage. You should definitely make use of that...I recommend going inside carrying as little as possible! When entering the first room your temperature is measured with a thermo camera.

After the temperature measurement there is this huge message plastered to the wall. What do they mean by "wandering"? That’s what I asked myself when I saw these words. But once you have experienced it all, the words will make sense *laughs*  Well then, let’s go inside! You have three options at the beginning. Many museums have a certain route that you need to follow in order to enjoy everything properly but with "TeamLab Borderless" it’s up to you where you want to go, you can go wherever you feel like going. Being led by your feelings is the best way to enjoy art!

I really like butterflies so I am going to the "Butterfly House" first. Butterflies are flying all over the room! If you try touching the butterflies because you think they are so beautiful and cute they will crumble and fall to the floor...The butterflies born here jump out of the room and move on to join the other art in the museum. So you don’t have to feel sad about saying goodbye to the butterflies since you will meet them again soon, you only have to take a few steps to see them flying around in various places.

After chasing butterflies I went to the "Forest of Flowers and People, Lost and Reborn". There are flowers all around the ground and across the walls! Flowers will appear where people are standing and after a while they scatter again, when you stay at a single place for a longer time the flowers will bloom. It’s a very photogenic space. It's large as it is but since there are so many mirrors the space feels even wider! ♪ You can easily take a ton of selfies here *laughs*. Enjoy the various flowers! There are some smaller rooms with several little spaces where the work is displayed on monitors. Also, you can see some animals decorated with flowers moving along the walls. Please try to touch those animals and see what happens ♪

After encountering the animals I entered a space with a big waterfall. The flow of water changes when people stand or sit on it and when you stay there for a while flowers will start to bloom. On the walls where the water doesn’t flow you can see all kinds of art. What might happen when you touch the flowing kanji? Please experience how the art changes when you manage to touch it!

"Team Lab Borderless" is a permanent exhibition but depending on the season you can see lots of different art! Right now you can experience a special "seasonal exhibition", I got to see it. iI’s amazing art that feels reminiscent of Japanese paintings! Apparently this is the first time the exhibition, “Proliferating Immense Life” is open to the public in Japan. Even though it’s a seasonally limited exhibition I would like to talk a little about the art. In the “Flowers - Layered Ultrasubjective Space” you can drown within countless semi-transparent images of hydrangea from June to July. The space “Memory of Topography“ depicts a rural mountain landscape of varying elevations. The scenery instills in the viewer a feeling of eternal permanence. From June to August you can enjoy lush rice fields and crepe myrtles. With the flow of real time the scenery is continuously changing so when I was there, thunder struck and it rained down heavily onto the rice fields (※ Please note that there is no actual water in this exhibition).

In the “Forest of Resonating Lamps” you can experience the sensation of being surrounded by the soft light of lamps whose colour scheme changes as people stand nearby. This production is very much reminiscent of the hydrangea you can see from June to July. The lamps are specially arranged and they are hand-made from Murano glass (Venetian glass). If you take a close look at each individual lamp you will notice that they all look different. The seasonal art is constantly changing. Even the staff members do not know when something new will be installed. So I consider myself very lucky to have been able to experience all these seasonal exhibitions.

Now, let's return to the permanent art. When you continue onwards you will be joined by crows as you enter the “Cave Universe”. This work is to be viewed from a position close to the entrance. The work begins when crows of “Crows are Chased and the Chasing Crows are Destined to be Chased as well” enter into the Cave Universe in the middle of the aisle.  If you stand at position close to the entrance the boundary between the wall and the floor disappears, the real space dissolves and the lines drawn by the trails of the crows appear to be drawn in three dimensions in the space. Eventually the body becomes immersed in the artwork world, and the border between the artwork and the viewer dissolves. I really want everyone to experience this!

The next space you will reach is "Wander through the Crystal World". This interactive installation artwork uses an accumulation of light points to create a sculptural body. The Crystal World is created when people use their phones to send elements of the natural world into it. It's beautiful and fun ♪

Then we continue towards the “Athletics Forest“ area. In the “Weightless Forest of Resonating Life” you can be three dimensionally immersed by various objects of light that move as though they’re defying gravity, they will also be changing colours... I tried putting an object above my head *laughs*. The “Aerial Climbing through a Flock of Colored Birds“ space features connected boards hanging in mid-air on ropes, creating a floating three dimensional space. You can train your body by trying to navigate the space in mid-air *laughs*.

In “Graffiti Nature - High Mountains and Deep Valleys, Red List” various creatures drawn by visitors live in a large, three-dimensional space consisting of slopes with different elevations. Challenge yourself and draw one of the endangered animals! I did it, I completed my drawing! Once you hand your drawing to a staff member it will appear within the space..It almost feels like you are a parent watching over your child *laughs* You start getting attached!

Last but not least I would like to introduce the "EN TEA HOUSE Genka-Tei". This is the only food and drink art space in the museum. The first thing you will notice when you enter the room is the strong aroma of tea. There are four types of tea, tea leaves from the mountains of Hizen in Kyushu are used. There is also a set menu with rich green tea ice cream filled with umami flavor and accompanied with shirotama. You have to order first at the reception. Then you will be guided to your seat. Tatami mats are used for the tables and chairs, making it a relaxing space. Tea and ice cream are brought in, the art starts once the set is placed in front of you. Make tea and a flower blooms inside the teacup. Flowers bloom infinitely as long as there is tea. Smell, taste, sight... It was a space where all senses were stimulated, a truly healing experience.

There are so many great artworks in "Team Lab Borderless", I cannot possibly write about all of them. I hope you will visit and experience it all for yourself! These are the words written at the exit.

This time, I was wanderiing around the museum for about two and a half hours without a map. Even though I spent so much time there I still couldn’t go everywhere, I only saw parts of it. There is still so much left to discover. I wanna come here again! And here’s a bonus pic for you! I was so absorbed in the art that I didn’t really take too many pictures of myself... *laughs*.

I had a great and exciting time, this experience gave me the opportunity to reflect on many things! Well then, until next time! Text = Hikaru// Photography = Yuki Ohashi, Hikaru//

[ashiiewappa]

Rio 2016 Tennis Women’s Singles

Sport:

Indoor Tennis

Court Dimensions:

The measure of the tennis courts 78 feet x 36 feet or 2,808 square feet. However, the full area of the court is used only for doubles matches. The singles court measures 78 feet x 27 feet or 2,106 square feet. Every court is composed of quite a few elements, so let’s take a look at each component.

Equipment:

Racket

Ball

Net

Wrist Bands

Head Band

Tennis Shoes

Dress

Basic Skills:

Forehand

Backhand

Volley

Lob

Overhead

Serve

Drop Shot

Half-Volley

Technical & Tactical Skills:

From the practical perspective, a tennis player’s technique/skills will determine what that tennis player is consistently capable of doing with the tennis ball through different types of strokes (forehand, serve, backhand, slice, etc.), in a variety of practice situations and then during a variety of match situations. Some key words and terms here are “consistently” and “variety of practice and match situations.” This is because something could be classified as “highly-skilled” or “proficient,” only if it can be successfully repeated multiple times under different conditions (situations). For example, a tennis player’s forehand cross-court could be considered technically highly proficient (skilled) if that tennis player is able to make 90 percent or more of their forehands while hitting in various situations in different ways.

In situations such as feeding drills and live ball rallies, hitting your cross-court forehand on the run and hitting the cross-court forehand slice shot, during practice points, are effective techniques. Hitting your cross-court forehand on the rise and hitting a cross-court forehand with more or less pace, height and spin will bring variation to your game. Once the tennis player has the technical ability (skill) of the specific element (stroke) in tennis, one can hope that that kind of skill would be successfully transferred to official tournament match situations.

This logic could be applied to mastering all different types of elements/strokes in tennis, such as slice, serve, return, volley, overhead, drop shot, etc.

Naturally, it is wise to work on a variety of technical skills in tennis because the more skilled the tennis player is, the more tactical (decision-making) options in a match they will have and will be able to successfully execute.

To be able to compete well in a match, a tennis player needs (besides specific tennis skills as described in the paragraphs above) to consider some of the tactical aspects of the game, such as understanding patterns of play (the geometry of play), higher versus lower percentage choices of plays/shots, and an opponent’s strengths and/or weaknesses, to mention a few important ones.

Also, to compete well in a match, a tennis player needs to understand, feel and be realistic about their own level of specific tennis skills. This awareness can contribute significantly to the quality of their own match performance. For example, a tennis player who is more realistic about their own level of specific tennis skills is more likely to manage those skills better, or in other words, make better decisions (shot and pattern selection) during points. With that in mind, the player will be able to perform on a higher level in the match relative to their level of specific tennis skills than a player who is less realistic about their own level of specific tennis skills.

Rules of the Game:

A ball must land within bounds for play to continue; if a player hits the ball outside of bounds, this results in the loss of the point for them.

Players/teams cannot touch the net or posts or cross onto the opponent’s side.

Players/teams cannot carry the ball or catch it with the racquet.

Players cannot hit the ball twice.

Players must wait until the ball passes the net before they can return it.

A player that does not return a live ball before it bounces twice loses the point.

If the ball hits or touches the players, that counts as a penalty.

If the racquet leaves the hand or verbal abuse occurs, a penalty is given.

Any ball that bounces on the lines of boundary are considered good.

A serve must bounce first before the receiving player can return it.

Points – Smallest unit of measurement. Points increment from Love(0)-15-30-40-game.

Games – Games consist of 4 points each, and is won when a player reaches 4 points with at least a 2 point advantage.

Sets – A set consists of 6 games and is won by the player/team who reaches 6 games first with least a 2 point lead.

Advantage Set – If a game score of 6-6 is reached and advantage set rules are used, a player/team can only win a set with a 2 game lead.

Matches – A match is usually played as best of 3 or best of 5 sets.

Deuce – Occurs if a score of 40-40 is reached. In order to win the game, a player/team must win 2 consecutive points in order to take the game. If a player wins one point, they have advantage, but if they lose the next point, the score returns to deuce.

Tie-break game – If a game score of 6-6 is reached and tie-break set rules are used, players must play a tie-break game in order to decide who wins the set. In a tie-break game, a player/team must reach 7 points with a two point advantage to win. For the serving format of a tie-break game, player 1 serves for the first point, player 2 serves for the next two points, player 1 serves for the next two points after that, etc.

How to Officiate the Sport:

Line Umpire - This official is primarily used at professional events. As a member of the on-court officiating team, the line umpire assists the Chair Umpire in determining if a ball falls within or outside of the boundaries of the court.

Chair Umpire - Responsible for all aspects of the match to which he/she is assigned, the chair umpire applies the Rules of Tennis, Code of Conduct, and Tournament Regulations on court, either as a solo chair umpire, or working with a lines crew.

Roving Umpire - The roving umpire exercises jurisdiction over more than one court at a time, in the case of matches played without a chair umpire. His/her duties are similar to those of a chair umpire – and also include working with the Tournament Committee to ensure that assigned courts are ready for play, resolving scoring disputes, controlling spectators, parents, and coaches.

Referee - The referee is the final on-site authority for the interpretation of the Tournament Rules, Code of Conduct, Rules of Tennis, and all aspects of play. The referee is an integral part of the Tournament Committee and ensures that the event is organized in a fair manner according to the Tennis Canada guidelines. All sanctioned events are required to have a referee on-site while play is in progress.

Chief of Officials - At larger, or professional events, the line and chair umpires are often hired and managed by a chief of officials, who may also be responsible for training and evaluation of the officials during the event.

Analysis:

An off start with Puig she got the ball out resulting to Kerber’s points. A great start for Kerber earning two consecutive points when Puig got the ball out and was not able to return it. Puig trying o catch up with the scores after Kerber not being able to return the ball. Kerber got a little short in spiking the ball, earning Puig a point. Kerber using the same technique as the first point, got a little short right now because the balll wasn’t counted as out. A great tactic shown by Puig to get a point from Kerber. Kerber showed sluggishness that she wasn’t able to strike the ball back to Puig. Puig got a little bit short on spiking the ball losing a point to Kerber. A slight mistake made by Puig earning Kerber a point. A great save by Kerber earning her a point and winning the first set. Puig seemed caught off guard by the save of Kerber, resulting to not being able to save the ball and losing the first set. What a comeback for Puig in the second set, as Kerber kept committing errors continuously losing her a point and earning Puig all the points. Puig got the win for the second set as Kerber ties with her. Kerber seems more sluggish during the third set repeating her mistakes and seems not correcting those errors. Whereas Puig really played intensely with high offense, which shows as she won the third set. Kerber slowing getting back up from her defeat, stepping up with her game play. Puig lost to the fourth set while Kerber got the win. What a neck on neck game between Kerber and Puig, Puig not wanting to lose also set up her great offense and defense earning a win on the fifth set. During the six set it was again Kerber playing on high offense against Puig, earning Kerber the win. It was still continuous neck on neck between the two after the eight set however having both players four wins of set, Puig got the upper hand and won the ninth set and another win for the tenth set. Over all a great play displayed by both players, as Kerber really tried her best to tie up with Puig’s score. As determined as she may be Puig never let her guard down and played with so much enthusiasm and passion that she still out scored Kerber and won the Gold medal.

[jaredzamorano]

Analyzation 

The video that I am reacting with is the game in NBA which Brooklyn Nets vs Los Angeles Clippers where it is a very close game or they called it “Down to the wire”. Brooklyn Nets have a big three those are Kyrie Irving that scores 39 points, Kevin Durant with 28 points and James harden with a triple double performance. In the other side they have a strong duo those are Kawhi Leonard that scores 33 points and Paul George with 26 points. Experts says that this game is the most intense and dramatic game of the season because of both of the teams did not give up and give the best that they can. If you watch these game you will notice high IQ plays and good ball movement in both teams. The final score of the game is 124-120 in favor of Brooklyn Nets, and the MVP of the game is Kyrie “Uncle Drew” Irving. 

Basketball Game

Basketball is played by 2 teams of 5 players each. The aim of each team is to score in the opponents' basket and to prevent the other team from scoring. The game is controlled by the referees, table officials and a commissioner. The team that has a greater number of game points in a certain time will be the winner.

Court Dimension

Playing Court

The playing court shall have a flat, hard surface free from obstructions with dimensions of 28 m in length by 15 m in width measured from the inner edge of the boundary line.

Backcourt

A team's backcourt consists of its team's own basket, the inbounds part of the backboard and that part of the playing court limited by the endline behind its own basket, the sidelines and the centre line.

Frontcourt  

A team's frontcourt consists of the opponents' basket, the inbounds part of the backboard and that part of the playing court limited by the endline behind the opponents' basket, the sidelines and the inner edge of the centre line nearest to the opponents' basket.

Lines

All lines shall be of the same colour and drawn in white or other contrasting colour, 5 cm in width and clearly visible.

Boundary Line

The playing court shallbe limited by the boundary line, consisting of the endlines and the sidelines. These lines are not part of the playing court.

EQUIPMENT

·       Jersey

·       Basketball

·       Basketball Sneakers

·       Socks

·       Knee pads

·       Board

·       Basketball Rim

·       Shot Clock

·       Game Clock

BASIC SKILLS NEEDED

The Two Primary categories of Basketball Skills

Offensive Skills

Dribbling

Dribbling is an important skill for all basketball players. This skill will allow you to move up and down the court, maneuver past defenders and execute plays. Proper dribbling requires ball-handling skills and knowledge of how to spread your fingers for ball control. It is also best if you know how to dribble equally well with both hands.

Shooting

In order to score points in basketball, you need to shoot the ball into the hoop. This requires the ability to properly hold and throw the ball into the air toward the basket while avoiding defenders. A proper shot requires precise aiming, arm extension and lift from the legs. There are different types of shots you need to learn, including jump shots, layups and free throws.

Running

Running is a big part of basketball. In a full-court game, you will find yourself running back and forth as the game quickly transitions between offense and defense. When you have the ball, running will help you to avoid defenders and get to the basket quicker. On defense, you often will find yourself needing to run after the opponent, especially during fast breaks.

Passing

Passing is another skill that when mastered can help you become a complete basketball player. Basketball is a team sport that involves finding a teammate who is open for a shot. The ability to pass the ball to this player can make the difference between scoring and not scoring. Really great passers are an important part of a basketball team and usually the ones who set up scoring plays.

Jumping

Jumping is another skill that can define how good a basketball player is. Jumping is involved in offense during the jump ball in the beginning, while taking shots and sometimes while trying to catch a pass. On defensive you will need the ability to jump when trying to block a shot or a pass. Being able to out jump your opponent for a rebound also is important.

Defensive Skills

Stealing

is taking the ball away from an offensive player. It the offensive is dribbling the ball and you tap it free, whether to yourself or to your teammate.

Blocking

One of the rarest stats of them all. It happens when a defensive player swats a shooting attempt from a offensive player, preventing the ball to shoot in the basket.

Defensive Rebounding

is a collecting and securing a missed shot from an opponent.

Technical and Tactical Skills

Offensive Tactical skills

Pick and Roll

(also called a ball screen or screen and roll) in basketball is an offensive play in which a player sets a screen (pick) for a teammate handling the ball and then moves toward the basket (rolls) to receive a pass.

Defense Tactical skills

Zone Defense

is a type of defense, used in team sports, which is the alternative to man-to-man defense; instead of each player guarding a corresponding player on the other team, each defensive player is given an area (a zone) to cover.

Rules of the Game

Dribbling

1) The player must bounce, or dribble, the ball with one hand while moving both feet. If, at any time, both hands touch the ball or the player stops dribbling, the player must only move one foot. The foot that is stationary is called the pivot foot.

2) The basketball player can only take one turn at dribbling.

Travelling

is a violation of the rules that occurs when a player holding the ball moves one or both their feet illegally. When a player has taken more than 3 steps without the ball being dribbled.

Fouls

is an infraction of the rules more serious than a violation. The team whose player committed the foul loses possession of the ball to the other team. The fouled player is awarded one or more free throws. The player committing the foul "fouls out" of the game.

Technical Foul

is the penalty for unsportsmanlike conduct or violations by team members on the floor or seated on the bench. This includes the team as a whole. Generally, fouls are only assessed when a player, coach, trainer or team as a whole commits an unsportsmanlike error.

[perspective-series]

Zapped Perspective (9)

By: @arc852 and @hiddendreamer67

Warnings: Mention of treating people like pets and feeling helpless

First Chapter || Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

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 Patton closed the door behind him with a soft thud, moving into the living room to see Logan on the couch, the TV turned on. He smiled at the borrower. “Hey, Logan. Have a good day?” The past couple of days had played out like this. Patton would go to school and Logan would be here alone, doing whatever he wanted.

“It was… fine.” Logan lied. Boring would be a more accurate term. Even if Logan had spent days at home before, it wasn’t the same. He could often occupy his own mind for hours without even bothering to stop and feed himself, so why did it feel so different in this dimension? What was missing?

 “That’s...good.” Patton said, shifting his feet slightly. He could tell Logan was lying but honestly? He couldn’t blame him. They were both...going through things. That thing being never being able to see your best friend ever again. 

 “Uh, how does dinner sound? I was thinking about ordering out tonight.” He set his bag down near the coffee table. “Do you like pizza?”

Logan’s heart panged, remembering how often Roman would order pizza and Logan would scold him for its unhealthy qualities and Roman would just try to shush him by telling Logan it was delicious and then when Logan would argue that’s not a valid argument he’d ruffle Logan up until his clothes were all tousled and he was an unamused mess but perhaps secretly just a little amused and maybe also a pizza lover at heart…

“Yes.” Logan’s answer was a bit strained, his throat feeling tighter than normal.

 Patton sent Logan a concerned look but nodded. “Okay, I’ll be right back then. Gotta go order it. You good with pepperoni?” Patton asked, already taking out his phone.

“Yes, that’s… it’s fine.” Logan felt strange, almost as though he was missing the ritual itself despite not being a strictly necessary step to consuming pizza. Not to mention, if it was Patton’s decision to purchase pizza in his own home Logan was in no position to lecture him otherwise in the first place.

 “Okay, then I’ll be right back.” Patton left the room for a moment to order the pizza. Once he was given the ‘be there in thirty minutes!’ he hung up and met Logan back in the living room. He took a seat next to him on the couch. “So...er, what were you watching?” He asked, trying to make some conversation.

“Oh, ah…” Logan’s face flushed, feeling a bit silly. “...Disney.”

 “Oh!” Patton lit up. Finally something they could talk about. “You like Disney? Those are some of my favorite movies!”

“I do not particularly enjoy them.” Logan corrected, feeling even more foolish. “They are just- familiar. Roman is quite enthralled with the franchise.”

 “Oh…” Well, there went that topic. He sighed. “I’m...I’m sorry, Logan. I know how much you miss him.” Just like how much Patton missed Virgil.

Logan gave a wooden nod. “It is… fine. The two of you are quite similar. I’m certain I can adjust.”

 Patton bit his lip, laughing a little. “Heh, you and Virgil aren’t too different either. I mean, other than the not minding humans part and the not wanting to go in the walls but you do remind me of him in some ways.” Patton admitted.

“How so?” Logan asked, giving a curious tilt to his head.

 “Well...you both kind of keep to yourselves a bit. You’re both more reserved. And you both get this cute embarrassed blush on your faces…” Patton trailed off, looking away. Geez, talking about Virgil had been a bad idea. He wiped away his tears.

“What? I- I do not blush!” Logan protested, his cheeks turning red as the borrower became both embarrassed and confused. Did Patton require verbal assurances or physical contact at this point in time? But Logan was not certain how to provide the first in this instance, and Patton had yet to pick him up. An upset Roman was often known to cradle Logan to his chest.

 Patton took in a deep breath, standing up. “Sorry, Logan. I just...I miss him.” 

“Where are you going?” Logan asked, feeling as though he had failed at the thought of Patton leaving him alone again.

 “Just...to the bathroom to get cleaned up. Don’t want to answer the door with tear tracks on my face, ya know?” He joked sadly before heading down the hall into the bathroom.

“...oh.” Logan watched the human leave, wondering with a pang in his chest why Patton hadn’t sought comfort with him. The fact that he may be a bit in need of comfort himself was entirely irrelevant.

 Patton splashed water in his face, letting out a small sigh. He had to come to terms with the fact that Virgil was...gone. But he couldn’t. He didn’t want to give up...but they had already tried everything they could have. Patton didn’t know what else to do.

 There was a knock on the front door and Patton quickly dried his face before running to answer the door. He paid and placed the pizza in the kitchen before going to get Logan. “Alright, pizza is here.” He said, giving Logan a smile.

“Wonderful.” Logan stood up, looking unsure what to do with himself. “I… apologize for upsetting you earlier.”

 “Oh no, no, it’s not your fault. It’s just...hard. And I know it is for both of us.” Patton sighed. “I don’t want to give up on seeing Virgil again...but I’m starting to think we have to…”

Logan had known this from the beginning. The odds of a second instance of interdimensional travel between two individuals was infinitesimal. Why could his emotions not understand that?

 “A-Anyway, I’m sure with time it’ll get...better. Hopefully.” He mumbled the last bit. “Anyway, pizza?” He asked, hesitantly offering Logan a hand.

Logan took almost no time to climb on, wanting to get away from this line of conversation as quickly as possible.

 Patton was slow and careful as he brought Logan to the kitchen, quickly letting him off onto the table before dishing out some slices of pizza.

“Thank you.” Logan murmured, sitting near his own plate.

 Patton nodded, taking a bite of his slice. “So...did you want to do anything after dinner? We could, uh, watch a movie or something?” Patton asked.

Logan considered this. The idea of a movie night sounded quite enjoyable, but then he remembered that the activity with Patton was a different experience. Patton would often sit on one end of the couch, leaving the rest to Logan. Isolated on a sea of fabric, as if he was watching alone.

“I think the concept of doing something together sounds acceptable.” Logan answered cautiously.

 Patton paused, slowly lowering his slice of pizza. “Huh? What do you mean?” He asked, confused.

“It seems, from my perspective, that when you suggest activities ‘together’, they are not actually completed as a partnership.” Logan explained.

 Patton frowned, fully setting down his pizza. “I don’t think I understand, kiddo. How are we not doing things together? We’re both present, aren’t we?”

“But you’re so distant!” Logan protested. “For sitting in the same room, it is figuratively equivalent to being across an archipelago.”

 Patton blinked. “A...A what?” He shook his head. “I’m...I’m just trying to give you some space. I don’t want you to feel like I’m hovering over you constantly or looming or anything like that.” Virgil, especially in the beginning, had told him off many times for doing such things. Well, told off was a bit strong...more like quietly asked if Patton could give him space. Which Patton was happy to do.

“I know.” Logan huffed, because he did. He understood Patton’s reasoning, and while it should have been appreciated, it was merely frustrating. “I understand that you are attempting to be respectful, and I understand that the nature of your relationship is inherently different than mine with Roman, but…” Logan rubbed at his arm, almost imagining the phantom touch there to be not his own. “I think I have been missing that particular sense of normalcy.”

 “O-Oh…” Patton looked down, taking Logan’s words in. “So...you want me to be closer to you?” Patton asked, thinking he might understand.

Logan flushed a bit pink, feeling silly as he got closer to spelling it out. “Yes, I would prefer that.” Logan murmured, his head down.

 Patton nodded. “O-Okay, okay yeah, then we can try that. If that will make all this a bit...easier to deal with.” Patton wanted Logan to be comfortable of course. “Just let me know if I overstep my boundaries, okay?”

“Naturally.” Logan agreed.

 “Okay, great!” Patton finished off his slice of pizza, before turning back to Logan. “Ready to watch a movie?” He asked, offering his hand to Logan.

Logan nodded, a bit nervous but also hesitantly excited this would be more pleasant than previous encounters as he climbed on.

 Patton carefully carried Logan over to the couch, biting his lip before setting him down on the arm of the couch. He then went over to his collection of movies. “Did you have anything in mind you wanted to watch?” Patton asked.

Logan blinked, looking at where he had been set down. Close. Not close enough. “I do not have a preference.”

 Patton nodded and decided to put on a pixar movie. Monsters Inc to be more specific. He had no doubt Logan had seen it already, if the things he knew about Roman were true but hopefully Logan didn’t mind. 

 He grabbed the remote before sitting right up against the side of the couch, his arm touching the arm rest where Logan sat. He bit his lip, hoping this was the closeness Logan had been hoping for and that he wasn’t overstepping.

Logan grit his teeth, knowing that it wasn’t enough but feeling ashamed for his desire to ask for more. Logan was being foolish. Patton had already offered his home to Logan; it clearly made the human uncomfortable to touch a borrower, and it was selfish of Logan to ask him to participate in such an activity because of some distant longing for a relationship in a dimension that was no longer accessible.

 Patton was about to play the movie but a glance over at Logan told him that something was wrong. “Logan? Is everything okay? Am I...Am I too close? I can scoot away a bit if that will help.”

“No!” Logan assured him, a bit too quickly. Now he was most certainly red in the face. “No, ah, slightly the....opposite, actually.”

 “Opposite?” Patton asked, head tilted. “But...we’re already as close as we can get.” Again, Patton was pressed against the arm rest, which Logan was on top of. Patton didn’t know how to get any closer.

“I do not intend to make you uncomfortable.” Logan began to explain, feeling as though he wished to be just about anywhere else. “But in...my realm, I must admit I have grown used to a certain amount of physical contact. I understand if this is unacceptable, and I am certain I can grow accustomed otherwise, but that was my intention in my earlier, ah, confession.”

 “Oh. Oh!” Patton’s eyes widened in realization. “You want me to-yeah! No, that’s um, no problem!” Patton bit his lip. “I mean...It’s a bit surprising but I suppose it makes sense, where you’re from.”

Logan flushed, giving a slight nod and not trusting himself to speak, too embarrassed to make eye contact.

 “I just...Virgil is not a huge contact person and I’ve grown used to him. He also told me to act the same if I happened upon any other borrower.” Patton explained. “But, yeah, we can try this, if you want. Um…did you want to sit on my shoulder? Or somewhere else?” Patton asked, unsure where to go from here.

“Yes, I’ve...that’s an acceptable position.” Logan agreed, having sat there countless times before. “And I understand Virgil’s line of reasoning, and I don’t consider myself to be a particularly touchy person by nature either, but it seems I have grown used to Roman’s countless advances despite my own whims.”

 Patton offered his hand but tilted his head. “Wait...is Roman, er...grabby?”

“Yes, he can be.” Logan answered, climbing on. 

 Patton thought about Virgil and then this new information about Roman as he lifted Logan up to his shoulder. “Oh no…”

“Oh no?” Logan repeated, before the pieces clicked into place to follow Patton’s line of reasoning. “Oh, no, I did not mean to cause you alarm. Roman is not inherently ‘grabby’ as an individual, he often knows to be respectful. I meant that because we have known each other for an extended period of time there is a level of understood consent between us. Roman will often do things like pick me up when I’ve been reading too long to force me to take a break, or he doesn’t feel the need to ask permission to grab me if we’re merely traveling from room to room.”

 “Oh...that’s-that’s good then. Sorry, I know based on what you’ve said that Roman is nice I just...I’m worried about Virgil. He doesn’t really like the whole, picking him up thing. He prefers to get around on his own. Which is why it’s still taking some getting used to, offering you a hand and everything.” Patton admitted.

“Yes, I inferred that.” Logan noted, climbing over onto Patton’s shoulder and settling in.

 Patton tried his best not to tense as Logan finally climbed onto his shoulder. It was a strange feeling, that was for sure. “Um...comfy up there?” He asked.

Logan cautiously leaned against Patton’s neck, noticing how tense the muscles beneath him had gone. “Are you alright?”

 Patton went to nod before thinking that might be a bad idea. “Uh, yeah, just...I’m not used to the feeling.” Patton admitted.

Logan almost chuckled, remembering how despite his excitement to have a tiny, Roman had been very unprepared and reacted in a similar way. “I will attempt to make it more comfortable for you.” Logan decided to squirm as little as possible.

 “Thanks.” Patton said with a small smile. “Ready to watch the movie?”

“Indeed.” Logan agreed, finding comfort in the familiar feeling of warmth around him as he was gently moved by the sensation of Patton’s breathing. “...thank you, Patton.”

 Patton smiled, the feeling was still strange, of course, but it was...nice to know that Logan was there. “Of course, Logan.” He pressed play on the movie and settled in.

***

 As the credits rolled, Patton focused his attention back at the weight on his shoulder. Not that he had ever ignored it. “Logan?” He asked softly, in case Logan was asleep.

Logan blinked, having gotten content enough to lose focus. “Hmm?”

 Patton chuckled. “Well, you sound just about ready for bed.” Patton was feeling much the same.

“I...am a bit drowsy.” Logan admitted, rubbing at his eyes and sitting up with a stretch. 

 Patton lifted up his hand, offering it to Logan. “Then I think it’s time to call it a night.”

“Sounds satisfactory.” Logan agreed, climbing into Patton’s offered palm.

 Once Logan was on his hand, Patton stood up, making his way to his room. “I...I enjoyed tonight. And I think I get what you meant before, about the other stuff we did together not really being...together.” Patton felt the difference between them.

“I am relieved to hear that.” Logan gave him a shy smile. “I shall admit, I was concerned that you were only being accommodating and I was being needy in my request.”

 “Not at all! I really did enjoy it and...I’m looking forward to doing it again.” Patton grinned, before setting Logan down on the nightstand, where is makeshift bed lay.

Logan nodded, feeling relieved by the prospect of an improved future. It still would not equate to time spent with Roman… but it was likely as close as he would receive, and it was a start. Logan should consider himself grateful.

 Patton climbed into bed. “Goodnight, Logan.” He said, before reaching over and turning off the light.

“Goodnight, Patton.” Logan echoed, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

[maximumcatfeels]

So, this will eventually be a finished story, but for now… It’s Halloween. I’m excited. I just redid my icon and my header picture. And I just wanted to share this small piece with you guys.

It’s not Beta’d yet (obviously) and I’m hoping I can get the actual story done by New Years… but I don’t have high hopes for that time line :S

There is some bad language in it so far, so uh be aware? (Moira is cranky AF)

As for pairings : Currently it’s Pharmercy and Sigmoira – but it’s more that everyone thinks Moira and Sigma are together and they both dance around the issue. Also the Pharmercy is SUPER unhealthy. 0/10 do not model any relationships off of it, guys.

Anyways, enjoy.

________

Moira O’Deorain had troubling remembering things before her death. To be fair her death had probably been very traumatic, if the shackles on her wrists and ankles were any indication. That and typically one didn’t turn into a banshee if you happened to pass on peacefully. (Actually, she didn’t know anyone that turned into a banshee after death besides her, but that was neither here nor there.)

That being said, Moira did remember a few things. She had been a witch in a small coven in the woods outside Aldersbrun. She used to have two dogs and a pet rabbit, plus a small hutch of rabbits she kept for meat and … magical experiments. Her little cottage near a large pond was dilapidated now, but it had been quite cozy when she had been alive.

She also knew - like she knew her own name - that the Witch of the Wilds, otherwise known as Angela Ziegler, was a massive winged cunt.

A massive winged cunt who was currently knocking on the rotted remains of her cottage door.

“Sod off!” Moira yelled through the door, rummaging in a ratty torn bag, checking that it had what she need to check her snare traps. She didn’t have time for this, she needed to get out and (hopefully) get some rabbit meat for dinner.

“Oh Moiraaaaaaa,” the literal witch sing-songed, apparently ignoring her, “is that anyway to talk to an old friend?”

“If you were an old friend, you’d know that is how I talk to everyone, now feck off!” Moira yelled over her shoulder, stuffing her favorite skinning knife in the bag. Thank the moon and stars she had a ward on the door keeping the bitch out.

“You didn’t use to be like this,” lamented Angela. Moira looked over her shoulder and noted the blue eye of the witch looking at her through one of the many holes in the door.  Did this witch know no boundaries? “I would know, you know. Since I’m an old friend.”

Moira resisted the urge to poke the witch’s eye out with a long clawed finger. She was pretty sure that Angela couldn’t break the ward as long as no part of her got through the door. Sadly, if Moira poked her eye out, she’d probably get some blood on her claws and then Angela would be able to get inside. Pity.

“I don’t have friends now, and I doubt I changed that much from when I was alive. Now leave!” Moira barked out as she slung the bag over her shoulder. She needed to get going, the sun was rising and she had shite to do.

The blue eye that had been peering through the hole in the door retreated. “But wouldn’t you like to know for sure?” came the purr of a determinedly persistent witch. “I could restore your memories, you know. And your house.”

Moira mouthed the next words sarcastically as Angela said them, “I would only ask for a very small thing in return.”

Every single time, this is how the conversation between them went. Moira was tired of it. Maybe being blunt would help get rid of her. She didn’t want to open the door with Angela right there. Bitch might take it as an invitation to come in.

“No. I’ve seen what you ask for in return! Quite frankly, I don’t even know if I have a soul anymore, so stop asking!”

“It doesn’t have to be your soul…” Angela purred. Moira could see that she had plastered herself, well-endowed chest first against the door, a half lidded blue eye peeking through a hole. “Your mind or magic will do…. Hmmm, maybe even your bod-“

“No!” Moira was not going to play those games! Especially not with her! “Don’t you dare even go there! I am done with this conversation! Now leave before I start screaming!” She would start doing her banshee wail, if that’s what it took to get rid of this witch on her doorstep, but she’d rather not. She’d probably wake half the forest, and Akande, the fish monster living in the pond, did not appreciate that.

“Wait!” The witch sounded genuinely panicked. She had also stumbled away from the door a step or two, just in case of screaming.  “I just wanted to beg a favor of you!”

Moira scoffed. That wasn’t new either. “Let me guess, you got bored with your latest conquest and ‘accidentally’ did them a mischief?”

“No!” Now Angela just sounded indignant. “Fareeha is doing just fine!”

Moira rolled her eyes. How well could anyone be after having their soul stuffed in enchanted armor and their original body possessed by another spirit?

“What I need from you, my beautiful banshee,” Angela continued in her sultry you-definitely-want-to-take-this-deal tone, “is help me and my servants in assaulting the Castle this year. It happens tomorrow night, and I believe with you on our side, we can have the upper hand for sure.”

Oh bollocks, it was that time of year again, wasn’t it. She had finished her warding preparations last week, but she needed to stockpile a few extra days of food, too. Moira sighed, she had to get rid of this witch, now, or else everything would be behind schedule.

“No. I’m working.” That was… not the best answer, but it was fairly accurate. Angela didn’t need to know what the work was exactly.

“What do you mean working?! You’re dead!”

Maybe a dose of truth would get her to leave, Moira thought as she snapped back, “Every single fucking year, you either win or you lose your fight with the castle defenders with minimal difference either way, but the rest of the fae and supernatural folk suffer. When you win, the humans send more hunters, who tear up the forest looking for you but finding the rest of us poor sods. And when you lose, there’s a power struggle between idiots until you reform.”

The witch was silent for a moment. Moira hoped that she would take the hint and leave now, but sadly, the brat then asked, “And what does that have to do with you?” and Moira’s already thin patience frayed even more.

“I sodding live here, you insufferable harlot! I have to deal with the aftermath!”

“Harlot?! Harlot?!“ Ah, shite, now the witch was pissed off too. “How dare you! Like you’re one to point fingers!  I bet you’re just going to go disappear for a few days with your own man whore, the astro-mancer who lives on the edge of your territory!”

Oh. That. BITCH. That was it!

Letting her fury take over, Moira threw open her door and screamed right in the stupid witch’s surprised face.

The force of her scream forced the witch to topple backwards and be dragged by the sonic blast along the gravel laden ground of the walkway.

“Ugh. I don’t know why I even bother!” The witch huffed as she got up; reaching for her fallen hat and tugging her rumpled clothing back into place. “I’m just trying to help you!”

“I don’t need your help! Now begone!” Moira screeched, no longer caring about the neighbors.

The witch plopped her signature hat back on her head, hopped on her broom side-saddle and flew away with only a “hmph!” thrown over her shoulder in lieu of a goodbye. Which was fine by Moira.

“Good riddance.” She muttered under her breath.

She stepped outside (finally!) and shut the door behind her. But as she turned back to start down the gravel path, a new visitor zipped into view. Oh god, it was that annoying will-o-wisp, Lena. What else could go wrong today?

“Yes, Lena?” Moira sighed.

The Will-o-wisp rocked back and forth on her heels, mischievous smile plastered on her face, “Sooo, I couldn’t help but overhear part of your row with the Witch…”

Moira dug her claws into the strap of her ratty bag. “Get to the point,” she growled.

“You ARE going to the astro-mancer’s house instead of helping her, aren’t you?”  Lena asked, cocking her head to one side.

Moira counted to ten in her head, then exhaled. “Yes-“

“And you ARE setting up wards at his place to keep her out, right?” Lena interrupted.

Moira blinked. She set up those wards to keep the bitch out, and keep her from bothering poor Siebren yes. But why was Lena asking this now? “Well, yes but-“

“AND you ARE setting up protections to keep hunters away too, right?”

Moira was still confused as to where this was going. “Yeeessssss….” She answered slowly. “But what does-“

“Do you think Emily and me can spend a couple of days crashing at his place, too? I helped defend the castle last year,  (and they don’t need me this year thankfully) but I think the witch is pissed off at me. And yeah, she can’t do nothin’ to me, but she might target my new girlfriend Emily. Well, I say new – but is it really new if you were already dating in a different dimension? Anyways, have you met Emily? She’s a doll! Best human I’ve ever known! We need more humans like her! She doesn’t even ask about how I technically don’t exist in this plane or why I’ve got a pumpkin shackled to me chest-“

Moira blinked a few times at the sheer amount of word vomit Lena was spewing in her direction. But eventually her mind caught up and parsed the first question.

“Lena!” She said sharply to get the will-o-wisp to shut up for two seconds. “It’s not my house. You’d have to ask Siebren if he would allow it.”

“But what about your wards?”

Moira furrowed her brow. “What about them?”

“Don’t you have to let us  in or else I’ll get poofed?”

“No? That’s not how they work. Who told you that?”

“Sombra! You know, the new bride of Junkenstien’s monster that actually doesn’t want anything to do with him? Anyway, Sombra said you had to uh…’white-list’ us to get in through the wards or else we’d be poofed!”

Moira had NO idea what the hell Lena or Sombra were talking about. “Look, Lena, the only people who can’t go near Siebren’s house are the Witch of the Wilds, her known cronies, and hunters. Everyone else can go into his house as long as you politely ask Siebren, the actual owner of the house. So go ask him, not me!”

Lean’s face lit up. “Everyone can go?”

Moira froze. Oh shite. She should not have told Lena that. “Now, Lena, wait! Hold on a mo-”

But it was too late, the seed had been planted. Lena started babbling again, “Oh oh oh! We could make it a party! We could invite all the fae and supernaturals of the forest! Like a giant feast and slumber party! Oooooh! We could do party games! Like bobbing for eyeballs! Or pin the tail on the hellhound! Ahhh! This is the best! I’ll go ask him right now!”

Moira called out, “Wait, Lena!” but Lena just chirped “Thanks luv! Hope to see you there!” and zipped away like a hyper active flea.

Moira stood there in silence for a second, her mind reeling. The wards were done and so were the protections to keep nosy hunters away, but she didn’t have nearly enough food for a party much less several days of waiting out hunters with that many mouths to feed.

“Well,” came a low smooth voice behind her, “you know your soft hearted idiot mage is going to say yes to her. And yes to anyone else that asks.”

She turned around to see Akande, the fish monster, resting his head on his arms on the shore of the pond, webbed feet kicking lazily behind him.

“Good morning, by the way,” he added with a small wave of his webbed fingers. ”It’s always so lovely to be woken up by a screaming match between two magic users before the sun has risen. Especially when you are nocturnal and trying to fall asleep.”

Moira sagged her shoulders. “How can I make it up to you this time?”

Akande smirked. “Make sure there’s a tub of water filled for me at your precious Siebren’s place. I’ll come by and ask for his official permission tonight.”

She groaned, and pinched the bridge of her nose with one hand, but nodded.

“Oh and don’t worry, I’ll make sure to get the word out that the guests for this particular party need to bring their own food provisions. I sincerely doubt you’ve got enough stashed away for that many people. Besides, you’ve only been hoarding human food, have you not?”

Moira felt a surge of gratitude, “Yes, all the food has been for him, so I don’t have to leave and restock it.”

“And what about for you? Do you have some food for you tucked away?”

Moira shook her head. She trod a weird line between fae and undead, so her sustenance needs were tricky. If Siebren remembered to put out offerings of milk and honey, she’d be fine, but usually he forgot and she’d have to sneak in eating the life force off a passing bird or another small creature while he wasn’t looking.  “I’ll be fine.”

Akande raised one fishy eyebrow, but didn’t call her out on it. “Well, at any rate, I’ll bring in something as payment for the hospitality.”

Ugh, every time Akande brought her food it was a large stinky fish. Only now it would be several large stinky fish. Great.

“You better get going; the sun’s rising. And I know you don’t do well in the noon-day sun. See you later tonight, Moira.” And with that, he pushed himself back into the pond and disappeared into the water.

Moira sighed one more time for good measure and then set off to go find some food for the upcoming “party”.

[electricbluebutterflies]

i have a kabby prompt if you so choose.... in polis after ALIE, abby doesn't want to talk or cry.. she just wants sex. she begs marcus to make her feel something else, make her forget. marcus can't do it, not now, knows it's not what she needs and abby breaks down in the process. they end up sleeping.

Aka let’s play fast and loose with the s3 finale and shortly thereafter. PG13-ish, content warning for implications of dubcon (neither involved person was consciously aware of their actions), and also on ao3.

She has become a monster.

In the immediate aftermath of regaining consciousness, as she processes the weapon in her hands and the blood that might not be hers on her clothes, Abby is in shock. She knows there is that cute little word for it, and she knows recent events are far more complex than she is currently able to deal with. Neither of those background-noise details calm her as she searches the room for her…

Not lover, not yet at least, god no. They got one good kiss before everything went to absolute shit, and from there she… actually does not know what may or may not have happened between them. Her body is sore in certain places, yes, but her body is also sore everywhere else so that’s unhelpful. Will she wake up in a few days or weeks and know what she did while she had the chip? Until this fear passes, she hopes not. She hopes…

She finds him from across the room, and there is no one else in the world, and she runs and she falls and she crashes.

Everything she is still sure of is tangled up in this broken man, in his bloodshot eyes and shaking hands. She envelops him and she never wants to let go, and she-

“I’m here,” she murmurs over and over. “I’m here.”

What she did while controlled is a mystery; what he did even more so. She does not care, as she forces herself to be strong. This is a new dimension, perhaps even more frightening than the hell that surrounds them. Marcus has been a constant presence almost her entire life, stubborn and stoic and perfectly composed… except around her. Every time she has seen him break has been because of her.

She’ll be the death of him. She knows it now, feels it in the shifting of his body against hers, the deeper breaking he refuses to do in front of other people but won’t be able to fight off much longer. If he can die, it will be because of her, and it will be an unworthy sacrifice, and-

“Come with me,” she murmurs. “We should… we should…”

Chaos as it is, they slip away. They will return to the epicenter later, face the fallout of circumstances far beyond their control, but for now there is nothing to be done and Abby feels no guilt in departure. Until the dust settles she is unimportant - she felt the gun in her hands, the impeccable programming in her veins, and there will be no partial survivors for her to patch up. If she is wrong, she won’t be far, but she needs to breathe and she needs to get out of her skin and she wants and she wants and-

She pushes herself up on tiptoe in a hallway and kisses him hard enough to bruise because she can, because she wants to go numb and what other purpose is there in collision. Because she screwed up again, got herself attached to something else with a beating heart, and she has a certain feeling that his badly bandaged wrists are somehow her fault. She runs her tongue over his lower lip, desperate for something, anything. This will do nicely, once they’re somewhere behind a decent door. Not how she planned this step in whatever they are, but it will do.

But here is not the right place, and she breaks apart and leads on. She can’t remember them ever being this quiet with each other. There were those good months of shared workspace - can she miss something that only ended a few weeks ago? - and they were civilized to each other then, but not quiet. Trying to run things was a collaborative effort, countless little conversations about every little thing because they had no faith in themselves and absolute faith in each other. This, this is…

She doesn’t know where she is anymore in this rabbit warren of a palace, but if she had to guess, she’d assume they’ve wandered into the visiting diplomats’ wing or something. She does not know, does not care beyond there is an empty room with a door that locks from the inside. Somewhere out of the way enough for what she wants, for making each other numb, for-

She kisses him again, and this time he does not allow her to deepen it. This time he backs away, and the pain in his eyes breaks what’s left of her heart.

“This won’t help,” he murmurs.

“Then tell me what will.” Hands on her hips, glaring at him, reminded of a long history of sparring. If he wants a fight, she can easily give that too. “I was not me, Marcus. There are missing days of my life. I am terrified, and I don’t… I want to forget. Let me forget with you.”

“I can’t.”

Well that’s annoyingly vague, she thinks, and his overall presence isn’t making her feel any better. “Why? Give me one good goddamn reason why you won’t lay me down on that bed behind us and fuck me until I can’t focus on anything that isn’t you.”

He takes a step back and several deep breaths, visibly bracing himself. “There are… for one, this is hardly the right time.”

“We just survived the impossible. And given the fantastic array of shit that seems to happen to you in particular, I don’t think there will be a right time.”

“You’re visibly exhausted.”

“How much energy do you even think sex requires? I’m not asking you to show off, I just-”

“I don’t know what happened during… during that. What my body did while my mind wasn’t in it.”

“I don’t either. That’s the point. I want to go numb and I want to feel present again and I want-”

“That might help you. It might make things worse for me.”

Shit. So she probably did do something. She knows he didn’t exactly take the chip right after she did, but-

“What did I do? How did I hurt you?”

“You kissed me. It felt like you. I wanted it to be you. But you were… aggressive. Your timing seemed odd. And that’s how I figured it out.”

Abby turns away, curling into herself. She can’t look at him right now. All the scenarios she’s considered in the past twenty minutes, but not that, not the unforgivable, not…

“What happened after that?” She has to know. She doesn’t want to, but she has no choice.

“They… they tried to use you against me in another way. They were going to kill you. They restrained me, painfully, and they meant to make me watch you die. And that’s when I broke. After that… I don’t know what happened when we were both gone.”

“But you survived me. And you’re still willing to be alone with me.”

“Yes, because that wasn’t you. I know you, Abby. I’d like to think I have some idea how you love. And when the time comes, I know you will be different.”

“How can you let me kiss you when I-”

“Not. You.” He’s drifted closer somehow, and he puts a hand on her shoulder. “I can see the difference.”

“But you won’t…”

“Not because of that. It might… I do want you. I do trust you. Someday soon, I want to find out.”

“But not now,” she hisses, still feeling like she’s missing something.

“Not now. But only because we’re both tired and have seen too much. Not because of you, Abby.”

She turns to face him and oh, it is easy to fall and let herself be held. This, apparently, is within his limits. He is solid and he is hers, still racing manic energy but less so than the last time they touched, and she still wants so many things, and-

“Will you at least stay with me?” she asks, because even that feels like too much. “If I decide this is where I’m staying until the next disaster, or at least for tonight?”

“Yes.”

“And if I want you next to me on that bed? If I want…”

“Of course.”

There is a gentleness in this man, she thinks as she breaks the embrace and walks over to sit on the edge of the bed and take off her boots. Still a new blossom of a thing, this softness in an unlikely place, but undeniably present. Marcus, standing just out of reach and waiting for her to finish her process before he replicates it, has become everything he is capable of these past few months. And he chooses her, chooses to lie with her in her wreckage, and she cannot find words for any of it.

She shifts her body to the far part of the mattress and watches as she can. He has a jacket to shed as well, made harder by the layered bandages on his wrists. She ought to replace them with something clean, she thinks, but she will worry over that come morning or when he asks for her her help, whichever comes first and not a moment sooner. When those wounds heal, she will see them - she’d like to think she’ll see his details every day for a long time yet - and be reminded of his sacrificial heart. She will...

“You could move closer if you want,” he suggests.

She does. She fits well on his side, resting her head on his shoulder. She could get very used to this part, if he lets her.

“If I kiss your cheek, will you freak out on me again?”

“Depends on what else you do in that moment.”

So, innocent is alright. She feathers a few kisses across his face, because she can, and a heartbeat one on his lips before she retreats. Not pushing, not going anywhere, just a little playful affection.

“Not-me didn’t do that,” she murmurs.

“Not-you didn’t understand boundaries,” he replies. “Thank you, for...”

“Don’t. You know when to stop me, Marcus. That’s part of why I love you.”

He makes some kind of contented noise as she closes her eyes and crashes, and for now they are enough.

[uomo-accattivante]

Oscar Isaac in the role of painter Paul Gauguin is trouble you see coming from a mile away—the kind you live to regret falling for anyway.

He’s a holier-than-thou painting bro with a “slightly misanthropic” streak (Isaac’s generous wording), eyes glinting with disgust in his first close-up. Pipe in one hand, book in another, dressed all black save for an elegant red scarf, he slams a table and shames the Impressionists gathered around him: “They call themselves artists but behave like bureaucrats,” he huffs after a theatrical exit. “Each of them is a little tyrant.”

From a few tables away, another painter, Vincent van Gogh, watches in awe. He runs into the street after Gauguin like a puppy dog.

Within a year, a reluctant Gauguin would move in with van Gogh in a small town in the south of France, in the hope of fostering an artists’ retreat away from stifling Paris. Eight emotionally turbulent weeks later, van Gogh would lop off his left ear with a razor, distraught that his dearest friend planned to leave him for good. He enclosed the bloody cartilage in wrapping marked “remember me,” intending to have it delivered to Gauguin by a frightened brothel madam as a bizarre mea culpa. The two never spoke again.

Or so the last two years of Vincent van Gogh’s life unspool in Julian Schnabel’s At Eternity’s Gate, itself a kind of lush, post-Impressionistic memoir of the Dutchman’s tormented time in Arles, France. (Not to mention artistically fruitful time: Van Gogh churned out 200 paintings and 100 watercolors and sketches before the ear fiasco landed him in an insane asylum.)

Isaac plays Gauguin like an irresistibly bad boyfriend, a bemused air of condescension at times wafting straight into the audience: “Why’re you being so dramatic?” he scoffs directly into the camera, inflicting a first-person sensation of van Gogh’s insult and pain.

Yet in the painter’s artistic restlessness, Isaac, 37, sees himself: “That desire to want to do something new, to want to push the boundaries, to not just settle for the same old thing and get so caught up with the minutia of what everyone thinks is fashionable in the moment.” He talks about “staying true to your own idea of what’s great.” He talks about “finding something honest.”

From another actor, the sentiment might border on banal. But Oscar Isaac—Guatemalan-born, Juilliard-trained and, in his four years since breaking through as film’s most promising new leading man, christened superlatives from “this generation’s Al Pacino” to the “best dang actor of his generation”—might really have reason to mean what he says. He’s crawling out the other end of a life-altering two years, one that’s encompassed personal highs, like getting married and becoming a father, and an acutely painful low: losing a parent.

He basked in another Star Wars premiere, mined Hamlet for every dimension of human experience, and weathered the worst notices of his career with Life Itself. Through it all, he says, he’s spent a lot of time in his head—reevaluating who he is, what he wants, and what matters most.

Right now, he’s aiming for a year-long break from work, his first in a decade, after wrapping next December’s Star Wars: Episode IX. “I’m excited to, like Gauguin, kind of step away from the whole thing for a bit and focus on things that are a bit more real and that matter to me,” he says.

Until then, he’s just trying “to keep moving forward as positively as I can,” easing into an altered reality. “You’re just never the same,” he says quietly. “On a cellular level, you’re a completely different person.”

When we talk, Isaac is in New York for one day to promote and attend the New York Film Festival premiere of At Eternity’s Gate. Then it’s back on a plane to London, where Pinewood Studios and Star Wars await.

Episode IX, the last of Disney’s new Skywalker trilogy, will see Isaac reprise the role of dashing Resistance pilot Poe Dameron, whose close relationship with Carrie Fisher’s General Leia evokes joy but also melancholy after Fisher’s untimely passing.

Each film was planned in part as a celebration and send-off to each of the original trilogy’s most beloved heroes: in The Force Awakens, Han Solo (Harrison Ford); in The Last Jedi, Luke Skywalker (Mark Hamill); Fisher, meanwhile, had hoped to save Leia’s spotlight for last but passed unexpectedly long before filming began. Director J.J. Abrams, returning to close the trilogy he opened with Episode VII, has since said that unseen footage of Fisher from that previous film will ensure the General appears, however briefly.

For his part, Isaac promises the still-untitled ninth film will pay appropriate homage to Leia—and to Fisher’s sense of fun. “The story deals with that quite a bit,” he says. “It’s a strange thing to be on the set and to be speaking of Leia and having Carrie not be around. There’s definitely some pain in that.” Still, he says, compared to the first two installments, “there’s a looseness and an energy to the way that we’re shooting this that feels very different.”

“It’s been really fun being back with J.J., with all of us working in a really close way. I just feel like there’s an element of almost senioritis, you know?” he laughs. “Since everything just feels way looser and people aren’t taking it quite as seriously, but still just having a lot of fun. I think that that energy is gonna translate to a really great movie.”

Fisher’s absence is felt keenly on set, Isaac says. As if to reassure us both, however, he reiterates: “It deals with the amazing character that Carrie created in a really beautiful way.”

Two months after Fisher’s death, Isaac’s mother, Eugenia, passed away after an illness. A month after that, the actor married his girlfriend, the Danish documentarian Elvira Lind. Another month later, the couple welcomed their first son, named Eugene to honor the little boy’s grandmother. Work offered a way for a reeling Isaac to process.

There was his earth-shaking run at Hamlet, in which Isaac starred as the titular prince in mourning at New York’s Public Theater. And then there was writer-director Dan Fogelman’s Life Itself, a film met with reviews that near-unanimously recoiled from its “cheesy,” “overwrought” structure, filled with what one critic called the genuine emotion of “a damage-control ExxonMobil commercial.”

The reaction surprised Isaac. “I thought it was some of my strongest work,” he says. “Especially at that moment in my life. This guy is dealing with grief and, for me, it was a really honest way of trying to understand those emotions and to create a character who was also going through just incomprehensible grief.” He’s proud of the performance—and, in a strange way, heartened by the sour critical response.

“To be honest,” he says brightly, “there was something really comforting about it.” That the work “for me, meant something and for others, didn’t at all, it just made the whole thing not matter so much in a great way.”

“I was able to explore something and come out the other end and feel like I grew as an actor,” he explains. “That matters to me a lot. And the response to that, you know, it’s interesting of course, but it was a great example for me of how it really doesn’t dictate how I then feel about what I did.”

He thinks for a moment of performances and projects that, conversely, embarrassed him—ones that to his shock, boasted “really great notices” in the end. “You just never know, you know? It’s completely out of my control.”

Isaac is an encouraging listener in conversation, doling out interested yeahs and uh-huhs, and often warm, self-deprecating laughter. When I broach a particularly personal subject, he seems to sit up—somehow, suddenly more present. It’s about his last name.

Óscar Isaac Hernández Estrada dropped both surnames before enrolling at Juilliard in 2001. He’d run into several Óscar Hernándezes at auditions by that point, and taken note of the stereotypes casting directors seemed to have in mind for them—gangsters, drug dealers, the works. So he made a change, not unlike many actors do.

Whether Óscar Hernández might have had a crack at the astonishingly diverse roles Oscar Isaac has inhabited, we’ll never know. But given Hollywood’s limiting tendencies, it’s less likely he might have played an English king for Ridley Scott in 2010’s Robin Hood, three years before his breakthrough role as a cantankerous folk singer in Joel and Ethan Coen’s Inside Llewyn Davis. He was an Armenian genocide survivor in last year’s The Promise, an Israeli secret agent in August’s Operation Finale, and now, he’s the Frenchman Paul Gauguin.

Star Wars’ Poe Dameron, meanwhile, or the mysterious tech billionaire in Alex Garland’s Ex Machina, or the army commando in his second Garland mind-twist, Annihilation, specify no ethnicities at all. It’s the dream: to be hailed as a great actor, period, and not a “great Latino actor” first. To be appreciated for your talent, and seen as “other” rarely at all.

There’s a crawl space between those distinctions, though, where another anxiety lives. The one that makes you wonder: Am I “representing” as loudly as I should? Am I obligated to do so in my work? If I don’t, what does that make me? Questions for when you grew up in Miami, or another Latino-dominant place, reckoning with how you’re perceived in a spotlight outside of it. Isaac listens attentively. Then for several unbroken minutes, talks it out with himself.

He rewinds to yesterday, when he boarded a plane from London on which an air steward addressed him repeatedly as “señor,” unbidden. “It was just a little weird. So I started calling him ‘señor’ as well. I was like, thank you, señor!” Isaac recalls, cracking up. “But then at the same time, I had that thought. I was like, but no, I should really, you know, be proud of being a señor, I guess?”

“I think for a lot of immigrants, the idea is that you don’t always just want to be thought of as other. Like, I don’t want him to be just calling me ‘señor.’ Why?” he asks, more of the steward than himself. “Because I look like I do, so I’m not a mystery anymore? It did bring up all those kinds of questions.”

He grew up in the United States, he explains; his family came over from Guatemala City when Isaac was 5 months old. “I’m most definitely Latino. That’s who I am. But at the same time, for an actor it’s like, I want to be hired not because of what I can represent, but because of what I can create, how I can transform, and the power of what I create.”

Still, Isaac has eyes and ears and exists in the year 2018 with the rest of us. “I’m not an idiot,” he adds. “And I know that we live in a politically charged time. There’s so much terrible language, particularly right now, being used against Latinos as a kind of political weapon.” He recognizes, too, the necessity “for people to see people that look like them, because that’s a very inspiring thing.”

As a kid, Isaac looked up to Raúl Juliá, the Puerto Rican-born actor and Broadway star whose breakthrough movie role came as Gomez Addams of the ’90s Addams Family films. “But I looked up to him particularly because he was a Latino that wasn’t being pigeonholed just in Latino parts,” Isaac adds.

“I do think there is a separation between the artist and the art form, between a craftsperson and the craft,” he says, applying the difference in this context to himself. He calls it “that double thing,” as apt a term as any for that peculiar, precise tension: “Like yes, I am who I am, I came from where I come from. But my interest isn’t just in showing people stuff about myself, because I don’t find me to be all that interesting.”

“What is more interesting to me is the work that I’m able to do, and all that time that I spent learning how to do Shakespeare and how to break down plays and try to create a character and do accents,” he says. “That, for me, is what’s fun.”

But it’s always that “double thing”—reconciling two pulls and finding a way not to get torn up. He wants American Latinos “to know, to be proud that there is someone from there that is out and doing work and being recognized not just for being a Latino that’s been able to do that.” On the other hand, he’s “just like any artist who’s out there doing something. I feel like that’s…” He pauses. “That’s also something to be proud of, you know?”

Isaac’s focus lands on me again. “And I think for you too, you’re a writer and that’s what you do. Your identity is also part of that, but I think that you want the work to stand on its own, too.” His sister is “an incredible scientist. She’s at the forefront of climate change and particularly how it affects Latino communities and low-income areas. And she is a Latina scientist, but she’s a scientist, you know? She’s a great scientist without the qualifier of where she’s from. And that’s also very important.”

Paul Gauguin’s life after van Gogh’s death by gunshot at 37 revealed more repugnant depths than his dick-ish insensitivity.

He defected from Paris again, this time to the South Pacific, determined to break from the staid art scene once and for all. He “married” three adolescent brides, two of them 14 years old and the other 13, infecting each girl with syphilis and settling into a private compound he dubbed Maison de Jouir, or “House of Orgasms.” “Pretty gnarly, nasty stuff,” Isaac concedes, though he withholds judgment of the man in his performance onscreen.

To do so might have made his Gauguin—alluring, haughty, insufferable, brilliant—“not quite as complex.” Opposite Willem Dafoe’s divinely wounded depiction of van Gogh, however, he found room to play. “It was interesting to ask, well, what’s the kind of person that would feel that he’s entitled to do those kinds of things?” The man onscreen is an asshole, to be sure, but hardly paints the word “sociopath” onto a canvas. He’s simply human: “I think that anyone has at least the capacity to do” what Gauguin did, Isaac reasons.

The actor has had more than one reason to think on a person’s capacity to do terrible things in the last year. Two men he’s worked with—his Show Me a Hero director, Paul Haggis, and X-Men: Apocalypse helmer Bryan Singer—were both accused of sexual assault in the last year, part of a torrent of unmasked misconduct Hollywood’s Me Too movement brought to national attention.

“It’s a tricky thing,” Isaac says, “because you get offered jobs all the time and, I guess, what’s required now? What kind of background checks can someone do beforehand? There isn’t a ton.” (Just ask Olivia Munn.) “Especially as an actor, to make sure that the people you’re working with, surrounding yourself with, haven’t done something in their past that I guess will make you seem somehow like you’re propping up bad behavior.”

Carefully, he expresses reservations about the phenomenon of the last year. “People don’t feel like they’re getting justice through any kind of legal system, so they take it to the streets,” he ventures. “It’s basically street justice. You have no other option. And what happens when you take it to the streets is that damage occurs, and sometimes people get taken down, things get destroyed that you feel like maybe shouldn’t have.”

“But some of it had to happen, and hopefully now there’ll be more of a system in place to take these things seriously,” he says. “It seems like it is starting to happen more, but then you see things like, how can this person get away with it? How can that person? It just boggles the mind.”

He pulls back again, remembering what’s out of his control.

Tomorrow, he’ll be back in an X-Wing suit, as Poe struggles to accept the same truth. In a year, he’ll be home in New York with his wife and young son, focusing on matters more “real” than Hollywood, its artists, and its art. Whatever he chooses whenever he returns, he’ll be ready—for the critics, the questions, for this new reality.

“All I can do is just do what means something to me,” he says. “You just have to find something honest.” One expects he will.

###

[clarenecessities]

spooky lecture

Word Count: 2528 Summary: who wants 2 talk about ghosts Chapter Warnings: bad lore [First] [Previous] [Next]

Adrien scrambled to sit down, a few other students engaging in a brief but heated game of musical chairs over the more limited seating. He managed to take the same seat he had on Monday, between Marinette and Rose, and smiled at them as he pulled out his things.

“We’re talking about ghosts today,” said M. Damocles, looking a little browbeaten as he stepped up to his podium. “I know some of you have… experience with them, but today we’re getting into the magical theory that makes them possible.”

Max raised his hand.

M. Damocles sighed, pointing at him. “Yes, M. Kanté?”

“Can you define ‘ghost’?”

“I intend to,” said M. Damocles. “That was going to be the first few minutes of the lecture, as a matter of fact.”

“But does it include—”

“A ghost is here defined as an imprint of a human consciousness, independent of any body, organic or otherwise,” he continued, ignoring a now-disgruntled Max. “There are of course various interpretations of what these imprints truly are—depending on which school of thought you subscribe to, they could be the collective emotions and experiences of a group of people, the collective memories of an individual coalescing into an ethereal representation thereof, or, as is most widely accepted, a disembodied ‘soul’.

“They are in many respects an imitation of life, most reflecting a humanoid shape, limited to a human range of emotions and capabilities outside the planar freedom that being a ghost grants them. This means, practically speaking, that they can walk through solid objects, overshadow living creatures, de- and rematerialize, fly, etc., etc.. The prevailing rationale for these capabilities is that ghosts are not entirely of this plane of existence, and as such are not restrained by our physical laws.”

“Which plane are they from?” asked Adrien, shoving his hand up. M. Damocles gave him a sour look.

“A plane is a dimension, right?” asked Alix. “Like it’s all around us or whatever and we just can’t perceive it or something?”

“Sort of,” said Rose, wiggling a hand back and forth. “That’s certainly true of the way our planes interact, which is how the phenomena M. Damocles is describing are possible, and beings like the aos sídhe who embody magic instead of ‘souls’, but interplanar travel is perfectly possible, and it won’t like, destroy your mind to see other planes or anything. It’s the same physical dimensions as we have here, just… made of different stuff.”

“Like… jelly?” asked Chloé’s witch. She was one of the only students from homeroom that was seated on the other side of the classroom, though she seemed wary of the Aesc students. “Like there’s a parallel universe and everything is made out of jelly?”

“Yes,” said Alix, immediately.

“No,” said Rose, pointing sternly at Alix. “Not like jelly. It’s like—it’s like M. Damocles was saying about the laws of physics or whatever. On other planes that stuff isn’t really an issue. That’s why magic is able to alter things in the way it does at all.”

“Oh,” said Adrien, “like how in our world doors go to different places and time is whatever it wants to be, and stuff like that. Are we our own plane?”

“Where, Eamhna? Yeah, of course.”

“What is… that?” asked Marinette, apparently deciding against trying to pronounce it.

“S’another name for Tír na nÓg,” said Adrien. “The uh—the fairy world. Or plane, I guess.”

“Has anyone ever said, ‘hey, this is ridiculous, let’s pick one single name’ or do you just enjoy the chaos?” asked Bridgette from across the classroom. Adrien stuck his tongue out at her.

“They’ve tried it several times,” reported Rose. “I think they do it on purpose to maintain an air of secrecy or whatever, because no one ever knows what they’re talking about.”

“But what’s in a name?” asked Max from in front of them, smiling broadly. “That which we call a Rose—”

“Students!” said M. Damocles from his podium. “Please.”

“Sorry Monsieur,” they chorused, settling down with varying degrees of abashment.

“As I was saying,” said M. Damocles, “ah… where was I?”

“The laws of physics, Monsieur,” said Max.

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, ghosts are not bound by the physical laws of our realm. They—”

“Hey, so, if a ghost is a soul and fairies don’t have souls, but their magic acts like souls—and it comes from their realm—then do souls come from a realm too?” asked Alix.

M. Damocles groaned.

“Not as such. It’s more like… like the Astral Plane in Dungeons and Dragons,” said Max, raising an eyebrow. “A waiting room, of sorts. The coterminous boundaries effect a tangible echo of a departed soul, which manifest as the intangible echo we know as ghosts.”

“Max,” said Alix, putting a hand to her head, “why are you playing Dungeons and Dragons when you are a literal wizard?”

“I… I find the math reassuring,” said Max. To his credit, he looked only a little embarrassed.

“Is that a game?” asked Adrien, leaning forward. “Can I play? Is it hard?”

“I—I suppose you could sit in on one of our—”

“Who are you playing with?” Alix cut in. “What other nimrods agreed to this?”

“I like drawing the characters!” squeaked Nathanaël from the back of the room. “It’s a good exercise in character design!”

“Guys,” said Marinette. “You’re going to give M. Damocles an aneurysm.”

“Right, right, ghosts,” said Max, shaking his head. “Please continue, M. Damocles.”

“Is it always like this?” Bridgette stage-whispered.

“Unfortunately,” M. Damocles said gloomily. “Alright. Ghosts. Unbound by the laws of physics. We’re all clear on that? Good. So how is it that they’re able to manifest, however fully, on this plane?”

The classroom was silent.

M. Damocles sighed. “That wasn’t rhetorical.”

Rose’s hand was up first. “Magic!” she said, apparently delighted to be called on.

“Yes, thank you Mlle. Lavillant, but I meant more… specifics.”

“There are a few different ways,” said Rose, shrugging. “It depends on whether or not they were summoned or manifested on their own. Usually if they do it by themselves they were especially magical or especially… distressed, when they died. Those are the ones that people think of as like, haunting houses and such, and they’re more likely to be summoned if you’re messing around with a Ouija board or something.”

“A wh—”Adrien started.

“You’re not allowed to play with a Ouija board,” said Marinette from his other side.

“But if you’re summoning it depends how long you want them around! And how much power you want them to have. Like we just use a simple anchor system so Juleka has an unlimited duration as long as her anchor is safe,” said Rose, holding up an ornate compact mirror.

“So it’s like Alya’s soul?” asked Adrien, frowning. He made no move to touch the mirror, suddenly concerned he’d break it. “An external container for it?”

“Sort of the opposite, actually,” said Max. “The entity we know is a projection from the anchor. It’s a container, yes, but there’s nothing external about it.”

“So… the mirror is piloting Juleka,” said Adrien, slowly. “Isn’t that what Alya’s soul is doing too? All our souls?”

There was a sharp laugh from the front row.

“You don’t have a soul,” scoffed Félix. Adrien bristled.

“Do too! At least half of one, and I’m sharing with Marinette now!”

“Yeah. He has 150% of a soul,” said Marinette, frowning down at Félix. “That’s more than you.”

“Do not presume to know me,” growled Félix. “I’m as signed as you are.”

“To what, a demon?”Alix muttered.

The Aesc students shifted uncomfortably.

“He’s not signed to a demon, is he?” asked Adrien, looking instinctively to Bridgette. She wouldn’t meet his eye. “Are demons real?”

“Asks the demon,” snorted Félix. “My contract is none of your concern.”

“I’m very concerned if—”

“Adrien,” said M. Damocles. Adrien fell silent. “Leave it.”

He looked back to Bridgette, who was watching Félix, grimacing like she wanted to know as badly as Adrien did.

“So there has to be a physical object on our plane,” Max started up again, stiff and awkward. “Ah—incidentally, unoccupied organic material can suffice. The experiment that led to Kim was intended to grant me a greater understanding of abiogenesis, but I focused too heavily on designing a functioning human body. I was able to create life, yes, but not a soul, as such.”

“Then he tried to summon one and I had to break him out of necromancy jail,” said Rose, beaming at him.

“I maintain that you did not need to do that,” said Max, stiffly. “There is nothing illegal about the resurrection of a soul, so long as you abide by the parameters set in place—”

“So Kim is also a ghost?” asked Alix, tapping a finger against her chin. “Interesting. Interesting.”

“No,” said Max. “I just told you why he isn’t. Are you listening?”

“All I’m hearing is ‘make some salt circles, Alix’.”

“Please don’t,” said Rose. “Juleka could get hurt!”

“And it’s a waste of salt,” said Marinette.

“If he’s not a ghost possessing the weird meatbag you built, then what is he?” huffed Alix. “He gets pissed when I call him a zombie.”

“A simulacrum?” suggested Rose.

“A really big homunculus,” said Nathanaël.

“A humungulous!” said Adrien, laughing delightedly.

“There’s no word for it,” said Max, grimacing at all of them in turn. “There’s not exactly a precedent for it. I work in uncharted territories.”

“Frankenstein,” said Marinette, smirking when he stiffened.

“We do not talk about that!” he hissed.

“The way you explained the difference between Int and Wis in D&D was ‘Intelligence is knowing that Frankenstein is not the monster. Wisdom is knowing that Frankenstein is the monster’,” said Nathanaël.

“Congratulations, next session I’m taking away your animal companion.”

“So, wait,” said Marinette, holding up her hands as if to slow the conversation. “No soul means no ghost, right? So there are no fairy ghosts?”

“Oh, no,” said Rose. “Could you imagine? You might as well have a dragon ghost.”

“Both of those possibilities are terrifying,” said Bridgette, visibly shuddering.

“Yeah, gotta say, I do not like that idea,” said Melodie beside her, grimacing. “Live ones are wild enough, thank you very much.”

“Rats,” said Marinette.

“Uh, did you want to summon a ghost?” asked Adrien, making a face at her. Who would she even summon? She didn’t know any aos sídhe as far as he knew, apart from his family and Ali.

“Yeah, you know, like a murder investigation,” said Marinette, smiling at him. “We could just call Nooroo up and ask him what happened.”

“Okay, even with a magical human that would be a terrible idea,” said Rose, leaning around Adrien to see her better. “Please, swear to me, never summon a murder victim if they had like, an ounce of power.”

“It seemed like—”

“Swear to me, Marinette.”

“Okay, okay, I swear!”

“Wait, are dragons from their own plane?” asked Alix. “I don’t think I ever considered dragons having souls.”

“I think they’re from the same plane as us,” said Adrien, blinking. “They call it xiānjìng though? Or at least the ones I’ve met do.”

“The way they taught us is the aos sídhe embodied creatures and the dragons embodied physical forces,” said Iona. “They were your plane’s equivalents of elementals.”

“Oh, right on!” whooped Alix, nearly leaping out of her seat. “In an alternate universe I’m totally a dragon.”

“If the possibility entertains you, there is a race in—”

“I’m not playing your nerd game, Max!”

“I mean, it’s not just forces,” mumbled Nathanaël from the back, “they um, they’re also natural phenomena. Fog and diamond dust and, um. Rainbows.”

“Planar theory states that in the beginning, all the planes were one,” said M. Damocles. He appeared to have given up on wrangling the class for now, retreating to his desk to shuffle through some papers. “And when they began to draw apart, they left imprints on one another. The plane of Elfame remembered the shape of a badger, even if it had no badgers of its own—and a plane of living magic was bound to make creatures out of nonliving material. There aren’t very many theories on the origins of dragons, and this is the only one which is held to be credible, because, well—the dragons told us so.”

“So dragons… aren’t aos sídhe,” said Melodie, slowly, like she was puzzling it out. “I don’t need to fight them?”

“You don’t need to fight them,” Bridgette confirmed, patting her on the shoulder.

“You don’t actually need to fight the aos sídhe either, you know,” said Iona from the row ahead of them.

“Someone’s gotta do it!” said Melodie, grinning and flexing her arms in an exaggerated fashion.

“We can never let her and Alya be in a room together,” Marinette murmured to Adrien.

“Ever,” he agreed fervently. “Alix is bad enough.”

“I heard that, and I’m choosing to be flattered,” said Alix, sniffing imperiously.

“As well you should,” said Marinette.

The rest of the class became a meandering conversation about the particulars of ‘souls’ and ‘species’ versus ‘planar origin,’ none of which Adrien felt very confident contributing towards. Outside of what Marinette’s mother had told them about souls, he’d hardly spared a thought to it. Maybe it was just his instinctual shying away from the subject (after all, a cat sídhe who talked about souls too much was regarded with deep suspicion in most circles) but he had never wanted to learn more until he’d met Marinette.

It still didn’t especially matter to him; Tikki didn’t have a soul after all, and she was a paragon of goodness. It was really more the idea of sticking it to that Félix kid that appealed to him, for all that Bridgette seemed fond of him. He didn’t like what that said about her taste in friends, as one of her oldest.

The other Aesc students seemed friendly enough, although Melodie in particular kept shooting him furtive glances like she was waiting for him to attack the room at large. When they were dismissed she whisked Bridgette away before Adrien could say so much as hello, though they got a little wave in as she was tugged out the door.

“This is going to be interesting,” said Marinette as they gathered their things. She was watching Félix in much the same way Melodie had watched Adrien, though there was more open hostility on her part.

“Them, or him?” asked Adrien.

“Both. I don’t trust him.”

“Did he lie?” asked Adrien, holding the door open for her. “He seemed pretty honest about hating me.”

“Well, no,” she admitted. “And he wasn’t giving off like, murder vibes or anything. I guess I just don’t trust him because he hates you.”

Adrien grinned. “Thanks. I was glad he was up front about it, though. Saves me from trying to be friends with him and putting us both through hell.”

“I guess,” said Marinette, pouting.

“The others seem nice, though!”

“Yeah—this really is going to be interesting.”