#so I was experimenting with a drawing program on my computer in the fall of 2020 (I usually draw digitally on my phone)

[dumbledavisjr-draws]

Hey n.fias did I ever share this??? It’s been my header image forever but I don’t think I ever posted it

[kon4ka]

Challenge: Drawing D&D classes - Topic 7 - Druid 2

🎆 Druid Hacker in the world of Cyberpunk - Aleph zero. 🎆

No, I didn’t eat strange colored mushrooms… 🍄

🖥 Backstory: Born with unique computing abilities, at the age of three she was kidnapped by a corporation that connected her to the network and made her a netrunner. Until my twentieth birthday, I never left the network. She was forced to first learn to live online, and then to comply with the requirements of the Corporation. But thanks to the innate runner's intuition, she was able to look behind the ice (firewall) of the corporation and travel through the open network and fragments of the Old Network that remained after the Fall of the First Network in backward countries.

Over time, she learned the rules and laws of each region and even learned to imitate programs so that the corporation could not distinguish her from one of the AIs. During my “work” for the corporation, I also saw enough of the human world and burned with a burning desire to get out of the world of ones and zeros and feel at least something, feel what it’s like to live, look at the world with your own eyes, eat food and experience other everyday joys. Presumably it was saved during the merger of two corporations; the container with it was simply stolen along with the weapons and the data center. The container ended up in the hands of one of the gangs, from which Aleph escaped, burning the brains of everyone who was connected to the gang’s local network. I found myself on the street not understanding what to do and barely able to control her body. She had one contact outside the corporation where she worked, Aleph was able to contact him and ask for help. They helped her; someone she knew only by his online nickname came for her and took her away from the bandit’s lair, and then took her to the ripper. Aleph Zero sat for a long time on the necks of the people who sheltered her, slowly relearning how to speak with my mouth and control my own body.

✒ Character: Still a big child, delighted with the most banal things. Still often wrong about trivial things. Good at everything that requires logic. She is laconic, or rather, she still forgets that in order to be heard it is not enough to just think. Cheerful and not serious in many ways. She takes orders extremely responsibly and is accustomed to repaying her debts.

🪢 Skills: From the Druids she adopted the ability to change forms on the network, can become a Worm, Virus, Trojan, Python, Interversion (inward-facing artificials), etc.

✨ Features: There are almost no implants in the body. Professional cyberdeck inherited from the company. She dresses very colorfully, making up for the time when everything around her consisted of zeros and ones. There are special implants in the eyes, in one there is the letter Aleph, in the other there is a zero.

P.S. Aleph zero or ℵ0 - Mathematical term. The number of elements in an infinite set. P. P. S. Inward facing Iskin (cube in the background), Iskins found in the Old Network, they cannot perceive anything outside themselves, that is, they seem to “look inside themselves” and nothing outside can influence them. This design is risky, but can be used as a shield in extreme cases.

RU

🎆 Друид Хакер в мире Киберпанка - Алеф ноль. 🎆

Нет, я не ела грибов странного цвета… 🍄

🖥 Предыстория: Родилась с уникальными вычислительными способностями, в три года была похищена корпорацией, которая подключила её к сети и сделала из нее нетраннер��. До своего двадцатилетия ни разу не покидала сеть. Была вынуждена сначала учиться жить в сети, а потом и выполнять требования Корпорации. Но благодаря врожденной раннерской интуиции смогла заглянуть за лёд (брандмауэр) корпорации и путешествовать по открытой сети и осколкам Старой Сети, оставшимся после Падения Первой Сети в отсталых странах. Со временем выучила правила и законы каждого региона и даже научилась подрожать программам, чтобы корпорация не могла отличить ее от одного из Искинов (ИИ). За время своей "работы" на корпорацию так же насмотрелась на мир людей и горела жгучим желанием выбраться из мира единиц и нулей и почувствовать хоть что-то, почувствовать каково э��о - жить, смотреть на мир своими глазами, есть еду и ощущать прочие житейские радости. Предположительно была спасена при слиянии двух корпораций, контейнер с ней просто выкрали вместе с оружием и датацентром. Контейнер попал к одной из группировок, от которой Алеф сбежала, спалив мозги всем, кто был подключен к локальной сети банды. Оказалась на улице, не понимающая что делать и едва способная контролировать свое тело. У нее был один контакт вне корпорации где она работала, Алеф смогла с ним связаться и попросить помощи. Ей помогли, тот, кого она знала лишь по нику в сети приехал за ней и увёз из бандитского логова, а после отвез к риперу. Алеф Ноль долго сидела на шее приютивших её людей, медленно заново учась говорить ртом и владеть собственным телом.

✒

Характер: Всё ещё большой ребёнок, в восторге от самых банальных вещей. Всё ещё часто ошибается в банальных вещах. Хороша во всем, что требует логики. Немногословна, вернее, всё ещё забывает, что чтобы ее услышали недостаточно просто думать. Веселая во многом несерьезная. Крайне ответственно относится к поручениям и привыкла отдавать долги.

🪢 Навыки: От друидов переняла способность менять формы в сети, может становиться Червём, ��ирусом, Трояном, Питоном, Интерверсией (обращенный внутрь искин) и т. д.

Особенности: В теле почти нет имплантов. Профессиональная кибердека доставшаяся от корпы. Очень пёстро одевается, отыгрываясь за время, когда все вокруг нее состояло из нулей и единиц. В глазах особые импланты, в одном буква Алеф, в другом ноль.

P. S. Алеф ноль или ℵ0 - Математический термин. Количество элементов в бесконечном множестве. P. P. S. Обращенный внутрь Искин (куб на заднем плане), Искины, встречающиеся в Старой Сети, не могут воспринимать ничего снаружи себя, то есть они как бы "смотрят внутрь себя" и ничто снаружи не может повлиять на них. Подобная конструкция рискована, но применима как щит на крайний случай.

[teslacoils-and-hubris]

which is your most sillyguytm oc?

well, i generally characterize Doc as pretty Silly Goofy, like he's Very Smart and frankly very good at thinking on his feet but he's also just soooo silly :3 kinda guy who lays on his stomach with a face mask on kicking his feet back and forth while drawing hearts around his latest death ray blue print

buuut on the other hand, I have this other mad scientist who's sort of like. ok genre-wise Doc is more on the older kids cartoon rating wise? like you know how steven universe and amphibia and gravity falls had a Lot of actually really fucked up dark things happening Constantly but they weren't allowed to really get into it? Thats sort of where I place Doc. Like yeah he does fucked up experiments and grave robs and probably also kills people, but its fine as long as we only imply it/ treat it as a lighthearted joke.

Then this (unnamed cause im so fucking bad at names and i Cannot just name ANOTHER guy bug) other mad scientist is like. a shitty slasher from the slashers perspective. All the blood and gore is shown and IS shown to be hurting people, but you don't really care because its not about them (how the tf2 comics handle violence pretty much)

ANYWAYS this guy is my most sillyguy because i said so. He's wearing peoples guts as a scarf to try and impress you, she's tripping over puddles of blood and keeps almost saving it but still ends up face first in just so much blood. He's trying desperately to make a computer out of organic tissue. why? dunno. Her only friend is a robot he made to help out in the lab that is sentient and the robot fucking hates her guts. He programmed the robot. he HAS eaten human flesh before and is just soso weird about it, but also like. didn't really like the taste? like, he thinks she probably just did a bad job cooking it but it's too much hassle to get to try again soooo

[stevensavage]

Make My Pain Original

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com, Steve's Tumblr, and Pillowfort.  Find out more at my newsletter, and all my social media at my linktr.ee)

I’ve been contemplating Artificial Intelligence producing art once again. Many of my friends are creatives, so it’s a subject of near constant discussion and we wish it wasn’t. Honestly, there are moments I wonder how people like tech critic Ed Zitron keep their sanity.

To level set what is called “AI” these days has existed for decades, collections of math and data that allow computers to perform certain complex behaviors. It’s been in medicine, in graphics programs, and so on, we just didn’t call it “AI” until recently. What we’ve got now is a bunch of language-and-drawing aping tools that burn huge amounts of power and water and are marketed by companies that aren’t profitable or fear there’s no more “big new thing.”

With that out of the way (and it will be doubtlessly be repeated in my works), let me focus on the idea of AI being a substitute for artists and writers. To get more specific, let me note that AI isn’t going to make me feel, and one thing they can’t do right is make me feel unpleasant.

Some of art and writing involves discomfort. It is a new idea that sits in your mind, warping it around conclusions you’re afraid to make. It’s a realization of disturbing truths in your past, revealed by fictional characters acting out something unpleasantly close to your own life. This discomfort can be horrific or a pleasantly painful sense of walls shattering, but art can make you uncomfortable in a good way even if it’s bad.

To give an example, I was watching the anime Headhunted in Another World, something in the sent-to-another-world isekai genre - but with a businessman so you can guess why I watched it. One element involved a species with poor reproductive capacity who were really more crossbreeds because those were more viable. That led to all sorts of disturbing elements of family, ability, and even personality affected by genes. For a “fantasy office comedy” with romcom bits, that little revelation was thought-provoking and disturbing.

Not an original show in many ways, but the creator clearly had ideas. Imagine having siblings that are ALL half-siblings, imagine having a relative who is alien to you. As is a common trend for the unkillable Isekai genre, there are some very good ideas embedded in the tropes - hough to be fair Headhunted does a lot more with the subject than some, but I am biased.

I am not for gratuitous disgust or horror or unsettling weirdness of course. However sometimes unpleasantness is a key part of creativity. You need to feel horror or you have a strange insight or something is off in a mystery or in art. Sometimes you need to look over the edge of the canyon to realize how deep it’s going and know it is deep.

I’m not saying that AI or AI-aided work can create discomfort, and when it appears to it won’t be original. AI is simply about recycling the past ideas it’s accumulated, it has no experiences or life to draw up, nothing to create new insights. That vital need for art to unsettle will, at best, be recycled disturbing ideas from the past and at worse be unsettling because AI sort of is terrible. I’m not sure we can have the proper level of disruptive insight and experience.

It’s like horror movies, which oft seem to recycle the same ideas in huge repetitive bursts. In some ways we’re still remaking Friday the 13th (though I’d argue really that’s remaking Black Christmas). One reason I tend to avoid horror films is the endless fall into sadism, jumpscares, and the same tropes. It’s why work like Radius and The Ritual really hit me, those do it right.

In short, one of the problems of AI is that, as it repeats things and has only the past, it’s not going to have that proper razor-edge feel that requires me to feel or is a sign of an unpleasantly fascinating realization. If there’s no person there there’s no one to connect with me in ways that’ll knock me off my perch and make me think and feel.

And that is just if AI has anything that might make me think or ponder disturbing truths. How easy would it be for automated scripts and novel to sheer off anything disturbing or offensive. It mighty cosplay as something original, but tweaked algorithms and careful queries can slice away anything that may anger an audience.

So, ironically, as much as AI is a pain to deal with, I feel it’s not going to unsettle me in the right way. It’s not going to make me think, confront, ponder darkly. It’ll be the same insights and weirdness and horrors and sadness of before. There’s nothing new there.

AI hype is painful to deal with, but it doesn’t seem AI can hurt in the right way.

Steven Savage

www.StevenSavage.com

www.InformoTron.com

[billconrad]

Run What You Brung

    One of my core traits is hoarding junk and using it creatively to solve problems inexpensively. I have been doing this since I could walk, and a good example is my fishing tackle box. It was a birthday gift when I was eight, and I packed it with tiny light bulbs. When I needed one, I would open my carefully organized box and select the perfect bulb for an electronics project.

    Around age fifteen, we took a driving trip, and I packed my tackle box with candy to select the perfect sweet for each location. Later, I used this box for screws and then switches. By high school, this box was falling apart, and I needed to use a screw to hold it shut. By then, I had a new interest in technical drawings, and I packed this box with templates, erasers, pens, mechanical pencils, lead, ink, and colored pencils.

    I do all my technical work on a computer, but these drawing tools are still contained and organized in that same fishing tackle box, ready for immediate use. This core hoarding value is improving with age as I constantly find new uses for my junk.

    This value also extends to writing, and I rely upon life experiences, English knowledge, and what I see around me to create engaging stories. My trait reminds me of a phrase that violates some grammar rules, “Run What You Brung.” It means do your best with what you have, and I rely on all my wisdom to write.

    An example is a scene I created in my second book, where I described what it was like to be in a relationship. I have had three long ones and recalled the most relevant moments from each to create the following paragraph:

     “Good relationships are hard, really hard,” Gabe continued. “They require a lot of effort just to stay at a normal level, never mind being happy with the person you’re with. In the beginning, everything is wonderful, new, and exciting. I know when I am in love because every song on the radio is the best one ever. But those feeling fades. A long-term relationship involves commitment, hard work, sacrifice, and adapting yourself to your partner. Also, dating a person and living with a person are completely different. For example, the first time I slept with my girlfriend, I knocked her out of bed, reaching for the darn alarm clock.”

    That paragraph was honest, direct, and amusing, but that is not quite what I wanted to discuss. It is the humble word “run.” What is so special about that word? It’s simple with three letters, super-easy to pronounce and understand.

    It turns out that the word has multiple meanings and uses. This article claims the words to be the most complex word in the English language, with 645 Oxford English Dictionary definitions:

    That article was eye-opening, and I looked up the word run for myself:

    Not quite 645 definitions, but a staggering 143 definitions. I had no idea there were so many, but I knew that more than one usage was possible. Like running a program, running late, a runny nose, run a business, runny eggs, run out of fuel, engine stopped running, and a movie runs for an hour. Yet there were many more.

    From dictionary.com: The salmon are running, the ship ran aground, let the water run before you drink it, the river ran into the sea, wax ran down the burning candle, materials that run when washed, cars run on gasoline, the well ran dry, the bill ran to $100, the easement runs with the land, shelves ran from floor to ceiling, a thought ran through his mind, she ran her fingers over the keyboard, run an errand, he ran out of breath, run home in my car, run guns across the border, ran the presses 24 hours, run the car motor, run the water for a bath, he ran a large monthly tab, run a line through a word, this watch runs $30, the car repair will run you a couple of hundred, she took a five-minute run, to take a run up to New York, the plane took a strafing run, a long run on Broadway, a run of salmon, to run through a fortune, she ran into an old friend at the party, his speech ran over the time limit, please run off 500 copies, run along, my watch has run down, he ran away from home three times, running up huge debts, and he ran off with the money.

    Wow, so many uses that I was unaware of. What is the tie-in? The word is a perfect example of gaining and storing writing knowledge for future applications. I can now apply the word run better, resulting in improved sentences with fewer mistakes. So, I guess what I am saying is, “I brung more to the party.”

life experiences

    You’re the best -Bill

    February 26, 2025

    Hey, book lovers, I published four. Please check them out:

    Interviewing Immortality. A dramatic first-person psychological thriller that weaves a tale of intrigue, suspense, and self-confrontation.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival. A drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and living with the consequences.

    Cable Ties. A slow-burn political thriller that reflects the realities of modern intelligence, law enforcement, department cooperation, and international politics.

    Saving Immortality. Continuing in the first-person psychological thriller genre, James Kimble searches for his former captor to answer his life’s questions.

    These books are available in softcover on Amazon and in eBook format everywhere.

[angelbluediary]

The Fantasy I Shouldn’t Have

I am transported back to being 12 years old with the memories and experiences I have now. I realize I’ve gotten a chance to start over. So I use my youth to its advantage—with wisdom and emotional maturity I shouldn’t have, I’m able to get away with acting a little more distant. Plus, I now know my parents would vastly prefer a distant but calm child over a rebellious one.

Unable to totally relate to my peers—but still pleasant and smart enough to be accepted by them—I sink myself into my studies. I grasp concepts more easily and know more than I should, so I’m able to zone out in class and use that time to write or draw or plan my future. I probably get a little lonely as I age up, since I’m constantly around my carefree peers falling in love and finding all kinds of new excitements, but the knowledge of my experiences holds me over. 12-15 is a time I devote to studying, writing, and planning everything out in detail. Maybe going down some new path if it presents itself to me. Becoming an artist. Writing novels before I even graduate high school.

When I’m 17 and at the height of forbidden allure, I wield that power more confidently than I ever could as a true 17 year old. I know how to make myself look good, I know what styles flatter me.

And because of my grades and the way I’ve applied myself those past few years, I’d get a free ride to Harvard or Brown, now that I know—only much too late—that you don’t have to be rich to attend, that I might have ended with far LESS debt than I’m drowning in now from a local shitty program.

And because I still haven’t caught up mental-age wise, I’m still a little distant from my peers at college but it’s easier now, and it works in my favor because I’m so cool and nice and pretty and smart and talented, and I’m not ever mean to anyone, and I don’t get pulled into any drama, and everything I say is impactful and wow I seem so wise, and mysterious who even is she? and everyone wants to fuck me or be my friend or just admire me from afar. And I’m winning awards and publishing/showcasing works and most importantly I’m making money and I take good care of my body and I started camming way earlier but only after building a following as a faceless content creator who then debuts to an even bigger splash than I got with my embarrassing eyebrows and grad student status. I’m younger and more desirable than ever but also more poised, more self-aware and business-savvy.

The only thing I would miss so terribly is Ginger, because I wouldn’t find her on that local shitty college campus in that timeline. And maybe that’s horrible that it’s only her whose absence could make me cry. But my family should remain the same, or even better? And I wouldn’t be too sad to leave anyone else I’ve met along the way behind. I’m not attached enough to anyone. I don’t feel like talking to anyone. I don’t really keep up with anyone from my past. It would be an easy break.

I could be a better sister, a better daughter, I could grow up with my privacy intact because I never left my phone at home on a school day for my mom to snoop through and even if I did, she’d find nothing on it this time around. I wouldn’t look up porn on the family computer and get in trouble for it. I wouldn’t give my parents so many reasons to lament my choices and the type of person I was becoming—a sexual, needy, attention seeking, selfish person they threatened to send to a mental asylum over shallow wrist cuts. I would know all the things to look out for. I would be better able to hold myself in check and not seek unhealthy outlets that would land me in so much trouble it’d follow me for over a decade.

I would enjoy college life. I’d feed my creativity. I’d go to a beautiful school with a beautiful campus in an interesting city. I’d make something of myself. I’d build a solid foundation while I could, so that I wouldn’t find myself like this—dragging along on scraps for years, ooozing resentment and shame. I would have so much time to figure things out while I was still in a position to obtain resources and guidance.

Sometimes when I think about this, I imagine there’s someone in my college class who eyes me strangely. And they confront me one day and it turns out they’ve also been sent back in time (and in the full reality of things, they’re not much older than I am). And we finally find true companionship for the first time in a long time.

But anyway, the whole thing is silly and pointless and really just terrible. It drains my life force. It does and inspires nothing good. Just tightens up the ugly ball of anger and disappointment inside even more.

[interdisciplinaryproject-group9]

Idea Proposal 1 - Office Room But in Cosmos

Idea proposed by Fedor Bortnik. During the class on Thursday, I was thinking about what idea I could propose for the group, and while Neil, the professor for our class showed a 3D set of Neo's room from the movie Matrix, I got inspired to take the idea of making a work desk, but in space.

The idea is pretty straightforward - There is a desk with various geeky items on it, but as we look up and up we can see a slow transition into COSMOS - we can see more of the cosmic shading, the computer parts disconnect and become more elevated as we look up more and more. At the top - viewers can find a complete transition into the 2nd theme of space. Viewers will see the ominous cosmos itself, with various stars, anomalies, and gas clouds. The colours are bright, colourful and alienating but in the end - simply powerful.

With this idea, I wanted to create a day-dreaming scene, where the avatar (us, the viewers) falls asleep at the desk, and we imagine a transition of ourselves and our real environment into a cosmic dream, where we can see ominous stars, some strange anomalies, different stars and so on.

Set No1

Set no2 (futher away from desk, up top)

After getting inspired a bit more by the references, I decided to draw the scene to have a simple understanding of what the scene should be about.

I think this is a good idea for our team project since it's not that hard to create. All our team members can participate in this idea by adding something of their own to the work. Plus since the project is not that complicated, we can use other programs besides Unreal Engine (like Maya, Blender, Adobe Premier Pro and so on) and let everyone do their part, if they are not good with one program. We would be able to understand and experiment with panoramic rendering and learn how it would work in Unreal Engine or see the project transition from 3D into Adobe Premier.

There are problems, however. The proposal might sound too safe, or the final render won't look that impressive, since the idea itself is not that complicated. In addition - Too much lighting and shading can cause complications for a good resolution rendering, we should estimate how much rendering this project will take before doing actual work. Finally - this scene favours props. It is possible to add characters into the scene, but a smooth implication of them here would be tricky.

I drew the idea of having a 'real' world at the bottom (the computer, office supplies, gadgets and systems) and having the cosmic world at the top (with the stars and the shading). And have the transition in between, where the two worlds would collide (computers going up because of gravity, and their cosmos is greyed out due to transitioning visual artefacts). The drawing is simple, but it helped me to visualise what I had in mind and helped me to understand the transition between two scenes.

Finally, I did a test scene of my idea, not initially to create a visual concept, but rather to understand the panoramic rendering in a rectangular format.

References:

Red Hook Studios (2017) Darkest Dungeon [Video Game]. Red Hook Studios. Available at: https://store.steampowered.com/app/262060/Darkest_Dungeon/

Zeboyd Digital Entertainment LLC (2017) Cosmic Star Heroine [Video Game] Zeboyd Digital Entertainment LLC. Available at: https://store.steampowered.com/app/256460/Cosmic_Star_Heroine/

Adrian Schwartz (2022) 3D Environment of The Room 101 - The Matrix Tribute [Digital art] Available at: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/xYYXPE

ponja (2023) Neo's room from Matrix [Digital art]. Available at: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/Je4KzD

wirestock (2023) The beautiful shining stars in the night sky. [Online] Available at: https://www.freepik.com/free-photo/beautiful-shining-stars-night-sky_7631083.htm

Cosmic-Cuttlefish (2016), Arcane Orb [Digital art]. Available at: https://www.deviantart.com/cosmic-cuttlefish/art/Arcane-Orb-621216844

characterdrawing (2022) '[OC] Ornox the god of the cosmos, arcane power and the patron god of the Aarakocra and kenku. A homebrew deity for my Deachenvelt world' [Online]. Available at: https://www.reddit.com/r/characterdrawing/comments/r10ed7/oc_ornox_the_god_of_the_cosmos_arcane_power_and/

[bryte-eyed-athena]

Afrofuturism in the work of Janelle Monáe

Ashley Clarke, a curator for the Brooklyn Academy of Music, defined Afrofuturism as “the centering of the international black experience in alternate and imagined realities, whether fiction or documentary; past or present; science fiction or straight drama.”

Themes of Afrofuturism can be found throughout the works of Janelle Monáe. Her previous albums like The ArchAndroid and The Electric Lady showcase this through the exploration of androids as a new “other.” Today I want to talk about one of her most recent projects, Dirty Computer, and the way it contributes to the conversation on Afrofuturism. Janelle Monáe released Dirty Computer as an album and a 48 minute long Emotion Picture to draw her audience into a visual and auditory world of her own making. The dystopian future she presents to us is very similar to our own current reality, except that the voices being amplified are those that have historically been silenced. People of color and the LGBT+ community are central in this story rather than pushed off screen. Dirty Computer is so powerful because it focuses on joyful rebellion, love, and freedom in an oppressive dystopian setting.

The project, as Monáe has shared, can be split into three parts: Reckoning, Celebration, and Reclamation.

Part I: Reckoning

gif credit: scificinema

gif credit: scificinema

The Emotion Picture begins with Monáe’s character Jane 57821 laying out how her society has begun to capture people deemed dirty in order to “clean” them of their supposed filth against their will. This is meant to produce beings that are stripped of all individuality and ready to conform to societal norms and expectations. Jane tells the audience that, “You were dirty if you looked different, you were dirty if you refused to live the way they dictated, you were dirty if you showed any form of opposition at all. And if you were dirty it was only a matter of time.” The dichotomy between dirty and clean has created a system where an entire class of people can be demonized and oppressed. This foreboding tone at the beginning prepares the viewer for the grim implications of the cleaning process in this universe.

Dirty Computers are strapped to a table and forced to undergo the “Nevermind” which is a program that deletes memories. It is a process that is horrifying because of what it symbolizes to the individual and entire communities of people. To erase someone’s memories is to erase who a person is. The character of Mary Apple 53, Jane’s love interest, shows us just how alien a person can become once their memories are gone. The horror of erasure is also something that marginalized communities have faced for centuries and continue to face today.

In an interview on Dirty Computer, Janelle Monáe said “I felt a deeper responsibility to telling my story before it was erased. I think that there’s an erasure - of us, and if we don’t tell our stories they won’t get told. If we don’t show us we won’t get shown.” Afrofuturism is a response to this erasure of black people and people of color in culture, history, and art. Monáe has made a deliberate choice to tell her story even if it might get erased because if she doesn’t do it then no one else will. Remaining silent would be to assist in that erasure and Afrofuturism is all about refusing to be erased.

This first part of the Emotion Picture is all a reckoning with the Dirty Computers and how they are pushed to the margins. The lyrics in Crazy, Classic, Life speak about how the same mistake made by two people on different ends of the spectrum of social acceptability is punished unequally. Take A Byte follows it with a more upbeat tone, but even then the lyric “I’m not the kind of girl you take home to your mama” speaks to a feeling of being outside social norms.

There are moments of light and joy that are counterweights to the dire situation Jane is in. These come in the form of her memories which are played one final time before they are erased. Jane’s life before she was captured was filled with exploration, youth, love and celebration.

Part II: Celebration

Gif credit: normreedus

Gif credit: daisyjazzridley

Gif credit: nerd4music

Dirty Computers seem to recognize that they are living on borrowed time and that any day could be the day they are forcefully disappeared. This is why they fill each moment with as much fun, life, color, and joy as they can. There are many scenes at clandestine parties where Dirty Computers live freely and openly despite the threat of drones or police that could capture them at any moment. It is important to have these scenes of celebration though because Afrofuturism is also about providing hope.

The future must be a hopeful one if we are to strive for it and Afrofuturism allows us to be creative in crafting our visions of a hopeful future. Even though Monáe’s future is dystopian, there is still room for hope and joy because those are the things that make life worth living. These Dirty Computers have to live their lives joyfully because they don’t know when they’ll be sterilized.

In the interview mentioned previously, Monáe added that “I had to make a decision with who I was comfortable pissing off and who I wanted to celebrate. And I chose who I wanted to celebrate, and that was the Dirty Computers.” The LGBT+ community, people of color, black women, immigrants, and low income people have all been mentioned as people Monáe wished to celebrate. This celebration comes intertwined with images and themes of rebellion as expressed in Jane’s memories. Screwed, Django Jane, Pynk, Make me Feel, and I Like That are the songs that embody celebration the best. Whether it's a celebration of sexuality, femininity, unity, or of self love it is all encompassed in these songs. Jane is shown connecting with others and being unapologetically proud of herself. We also see her falling in love with two people, Zen and Ché, and we see them love her in return.

Gif credit: thelovelylights

Viewing these memories and interacting with Jane seems to encourage the questioning of authority. The employee utilizing the Nevermind process seems to question why he should be deleting Jane’s memories at all. Mary Apple 53, previously named Zen, also directly questions their matriarch after speaking with Jane and realizing that she’s connected to her. It all culminates in a nonviolent escape attempt where Jane, Zen, and Ché reclaim their names, bodies, and their lives.

Part III: Reclamation

Gif credit: thelovelylights

The Emotion Picture ends with Jane 57821 and Mary Apple 53 freeing themselves, and their recently arrived lover Ché, from the facility. They escape without harming others the way they themselves have been harmed. By leaving they are reclaiming their freedom and their right to be proud of being Dirty Computers. They refuse the new names that were forced upon them and leave to rediscover the memories of the life they lived before capture.

It is a hopeful ending that plays into the themes of Afrofuturism. Even though both Jane and Zen’s memories were erased they still have the ability to create new memories and stories. Their ability to recreate their past as well as create a new future was not taken away. As they escape the song Americans can be heard in the background. The lyrics subvert the typical American patriotism expressed by racist white southerners. The trope of preserving gender roles and being a gun carrying american are satirized in these lyrics. America as a whole is being reclaimed by Janelle as a place for the people who have been marginalized.

Janelle sings “Don’t try to take my country/ I will defend my land/ I’m not crazy baby/ nah I’m American.” This sentiment is typically espoused by xenophobic americans, but when it is sung by Janelle she is saying that she won’t be forced out of America due to the bigoted beliefs of the people who hate her. She also pleads for the listener to love her for who she is which is something that has been denied to black women for centuries. The song ends with a powerful message of reclaiming America by Rev. Dr. Sean McMillan who said “Until Latinos and Latinas don't have to run from walls/ This is not my America/ But I tell you today that the devil is a liar/ Because it's gon' be my America before it's all over.”

This also shows themes of Afrofuturism since Monáe is reclaiming her history and is refusing to be excluded from it. She is asserting her presence and that of all the Dirty Computers by saying that they too have a claim to America. The Emotion Picture and the album are both a masterpiece of Afrofuturism art and music. Monáe masterfully weaves various musical genres and visual storytelling to show her pride in being a black queer woman. There is no other artist like Janelle Monáe, and I am excited to see what new worlds she will take us to next.

[liquid-luck-00]

Maribat Secret Santa 2020

@maribat-secret-santa-2020

Happy Holidays everyone🎁

In my defense there was a minimum of 2000 words and there was no max so this ended up being 6112 words sorry, I think. There is some Adrien, class and Lila salt, Adrien gets some sugar later.

Without further ado @eve-v0lution I am your Secret Santa, enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~

Marinette has never been a normal girl. When she was born the goddess Tikki appeared claiming her as her chosen and the next Ladybug. She was born the granddaughter of Ra's Al Ghul, the head of the League of Assassins, the sister organization to the Order of the Miraculous. Her older brother, and twin, Damian was called to be the next Demon.

When they were five, she was taken to the Temple of the Order of Miraculous. she and her brother kept in contact, but it wasn't much more, than 'yes I am still alive, are you?' which was fine with them. As they were often trained together by both the League and the Order.

A week before they turned 10, she was named the Great Guardian and given the Miracle box. On their 10th birthdays he returned to the League to support her brother as he was officially named the heir of the Demon. However, things never went that smoothly. Slade Wilson led an attack on the League killing their grandfather. Damian rushed on to fight the Mercenary. She followed at his side the only thing she said before entering the fray was "Duusu fans" and combat fans dropped into her hands.

Between the two of them, they pushed Deathstroke back. However, he didn't retreat before throwing a sword at Damian. She called upon Wayzz's "Shell-ter" catching the sword in the shield’s dome. She took the hilt of the blade before dropping the dome. The two of them shared a look before running to find their Mother. Together they used Kaakli's portal to go to the Order.

However, they were met with an equally gruesome sight. Many of the monks laid dead, those that weren't were not in much better of a condition.

A single elder survived, speaking of the simultaneous attack on the Order and League. He told them that he will rebuild the order, but that Mari needed to keep the Miracle box safe. In the end Mother told them that she will be leaving them with their Father.

To say it was a surprise that their Father was Batman would be a stretch. Mother and Grandfather only allowed perfection, so not as surprising as one would think. Batman being Bruce Wayne, sure that wouldn't be her first guess but so what. What actually surprised her were her new brothers.

Damian hated them but she loved their antics. Where Damian became the next Robin, Mari stayed in the cave manning the comms as well as their numerous and often injuries.

However, when she did join everyone on the roof tops, Scarlet joins them. A red cropped hoodie that ended a little below her ribs. A long sleeve Kevlar shirt with a high neck. Black gloves and arm guards were holding the sleeves of the hoodie down. Her pants were the same Kevlar as the shirt and was just as formfitting, there were guards on her thighs that wouldn’t impede on her movement as well as knee pads connected to the shin guard. Short combat boots, a red sash tied to her waist hiding the utility belt and yo-yo, and a mechanical mask that conceals the bottom half of her face. And to top it off Tikki turns her eyes violet and her hair to white.

"Scarlet" Nightwing called to her. They were partnered and patrolling the west side of Gotham.

"Yes"

"Let’s race"

"What do I get when I win?"

He held his hand to his chest in mock hurt "Just so you know one week, anything the winner says is law for one week for the loser"

"Make it one favor redeemable whenever and you've got it" she challenged. He was torn but he agreed.

"Count me in" they heard Red Hood.

"Same" Red Robin also entered "Robin?"

"Tt. No"

"Fine. First back to the cave wins" Nightwing answered. "Go!"

She swung through Gotham and dropped into a pitch-black alley 'voyage' Mari whispered too low for the comms to pick up. Dropping through the portal and into the cave. Her transformation dropped and Tikki went to sit on her shoulder. Alfred was there waiting, Duusu perched on his shoulder as well, with a tray of cookies. She gave him a nod in silent thanks, as she still had a comm in her ear.

Ten minutes later Red Hood pulls in and was about to celebrate when both Red Robin and Nightwing crash into him. Creating a mess of limbs over the motor bike.

"Ha I win now you guys owe" Jason was about to rub in his victory from the bottom of the pile when Mari giggled, pulling the attention of her three brothers.

"Sorry Jay but you lost" she, Alfred, and the kwami were clearly in the middle of tea and cookies.

"She is correct Master Jason. Miss Marinette has been here for the past 10 minutes"

"Tt. Honestly don't race against some one who teleports." Damian grumbled as he walked away from the Bat-mobile.

"Don't worry. I'll wait until you forget you owe me to cash in" she smiled wickedly. "Good night."

And that was when they remembered 'Right Mari has the ability to use the powers of several pocket-sized gods' that was a lesson they wouldn't forget soon. Well Tim and Jason didn't forget; Dick would still bet against her though.

Jason found out she is the perfect prank partner. And no one in or out of the manor was safe. How they managed to swap all of Green Arrow's arrows, each being a different gag, was a mystery even Batman couldn't or wouldn't attempt to solve. The fact that the Justice League saw and heard Batman fall to the floor laughing, scared most of them from finding out. Those who didn't learned what happens when you don't leave well enough alone.

School was well boring; between the curriculum of the League and the Order she had already gotten 2 PHDs and 5 masters. School was nothing more than a pleasantry at this point. Father wouldn't let them out of school, something about needing to be normal kids. That only seemed to draw the twins into the spotlight more, because they were the only two blood children of Bruce Wayne. Damian became known quite fast as Gotham's Ice Prince, but Mari became known as Gotham's Sunshine just as fast.

But don’t let the name fool you, within the first year their classmates learned that yes Damian Wayne is scared of something, and that something was actually a someone who just happened to be his twin sister. Damian apparently was feeling petty about something, and for the life of her she can’t remember what, but he decided to write in big red letters ‘NO!!!’ across every page of her sketchbook. She found that out during lunch, and that was when the entire school learned that the little sunshine child was the only thing that can put the fear of God in the Ice Prince.

---

Freshman year Mari finally got her Dad to agree to letting her into the exchange program for the next four years.

So, she decided on Paris.

Why, why did this exchange have to be four years long. I’m not gonna survive this.

Admittedly it started off okay, okay not really but then things went downhill, fast, faster than you could imagine.

It started when she met her host family. They met her at the airport and that was an experience, I guess.

"Mlle Wayne? Correct" a tall slender woman in glasses asked her.

"Yes Madame" she replied with a polite smile.

"Natalie Sancoeur" the woman replied "And this is" she started but was cut off by a boy around her age, he had blonde hair and green eyes. But what stood out to her was his attributes reminded her of an overexcited and hyper puppy.

"Adrien Agreste" he smiled at her, so she did what was expected of her in polite society.

"Marinette Wayne" and she extended her hand to shake his. However, instead he pulled her into a hug. Once she realized what was happening, she pushed away from him and took a step back. She looked at him and her thought of him being a puppy was only reinforced with the look on his face. So, she looked at Sancoeur, while the woman looked at Agreste with indifference she looked at Mari as if she was in the wrong.

This is going to be great. Was the only thought as she endured the drive to the Agreste household.

Agreste would not shut up the entire way and seemed to be hurt that she didn't answer him. Agreste was also the one who was to give her the tour of the mansion. It wasn’t so bad it gave her the chance to gauge the defense systems, which was lacking, and the layout was simple compared to the Wayne Manor, the League's compound, and the Order's temple.

Unfortunately for her, Agreste ended the tour with her room and then proceeded to sit on the bed and continue to ramble about whatever was on his mind. She did try to get him to leave but that was a complete waste of time and effort. Kwami it was like he couldn't hear me or more likely didn’t even care about my opinion. So, she put in her headphones, hid them behind her hair, pressed play to of music and went to unpack.

As she was finishing setting up the bathroom she noticed, like every other door in this house, there was no lock.

Ugh I need to speak with Monsieur Agreste.

She went back out and saw him. Agreste was at the desk where she had set her laptop and was trying to open it.

"Excuse me but what are you doing?" she asked pointedly, having taken out her headphones and set them in the case.

"I was trying to see what you had on your laptop" he shrugged "can you tell me the password to get in?"

"No" she deadpanned; he had the gall to look shocked. That was when Mme Sancoeur entered the room, without even knocking.

"Lunch is" was all she said before Agreste cut her off.

"Natalie make her open her computer for me" Agreste whined.

She was about to speak but Marinette beat her to it. "Um No. What I have on my personal computer is none of your concern" his face fell while Mme. Sancoeur pursed her lips. "Furthermore, I am assuming since you are at the desk, the bed is askew, and the drawers are open and my clothes are in shambles you were going through my things" she was now glaring at the blonde invading her space. Now he had the decency of looking ashamed. "Am I to assume lunch will be held in the dinning room?" Mme. Sancoeur only nodded, and she left the room.

Lunch, if you can call it that, was also a disaster. Apparently, Americans eat chicken noodle soup, a hamburger, and a load of fries. Because that was what was set in front of her.

Ugh this is going to be a long four years.

"Mlle. Wayne, I hope everything has been to your liking" M. Agreste, Gabriel, as he introduced himself earlier spoke. “You have hardly eaten.”

"Would you prefer my honesty or would you rather me lie to you" Marinette responded swirling the water in her glass.

"Your honesty" he answered slightly unsure.

At this she scoffed "I am going to assume that you and no one else had bothered to read the file of my information that was sent to you" he as well as Mme. Sancoeur remained quiet "Because if you had you would know I am a vegetarian."

Mme. Sancoeur searched some thing on her tablet and there was a soft "oh" from her.

"Your son is also suffocating, to the point that when I asked him to leave the room so I could settle in peacefully, he remained as if I hadn’t asked him to leave" M. Agreste was going to say something but she continued "He also has no sense of privacy as he went through all of my belongings and was attempting to go through my laptop as well." Again, he was going to say something, but Mari continued. "On the topic of privacy neither the bedroom door nor the bathroom have a lock."

“Paris is completely safe, as the house is protected, it should not matter if there is a lock on the door” he replied in a monotone.

“I’m sorry doesn’t matter, in what universe is it alright for two teenagers of the opposite sex be in a house where one of said teenagers doesn’t respect the other enough to leave them alone” she almost started yelling, but kept her head and voice level.

M. Agreste didn’t respond right away, but he gave a small hum before stating that “I will take your request into consideration.”

“Alright, just know that I will guard myself and will not hesitate to use force if necessary” she knew they wouldn’t take her seriously but hey I am warning them, they only gave a nod that they heard. “Also M. Agreste I tend to have a strict morning regimen is it possible for me to continue it using the home gym while here?”

“Of course,” he waved dismissively.

“What does this regimen include?” Mme. Sancoeur asked politely.

Marinette had a wicked smirk as this was going to be the lightest of her routines, she could give but would still most likely shock them. “Oh it is nothing much just a 5 kilometer run as a warm up, then half an hour of boxing, a half an hour of sword forms and training, half an hour of holographic combat training, followed by half an hour of ballet, and half an hour of meditation.” She was smiling watching their reactions and it was priceless. “I usually start around 4 in the morning.”

All of them were shocked, and who would blame them, here I am in my 5’2” high glory with a sunshine disposition stating I can most likely drop kick them into next week. “Actually, if you don’t mind, I was unable to do it this morning on account of being on an airplane, this will be a good way to see the city” so she smiled leaving them gobsmacked.

Finally, she was able to breathe as she ran the streets of Paris listening to her music softly. Back at the mansion she had figured out she had an audience less than ten minutes into boxing, but she continued. As she was about to start the holographic training, that Tim, Barbara, and she had created, but by now the entire Agreste household was watching her. “If you’re only going to watch me leave or else have the decency to spar” she shot at them.

“I’ll do it” little Agreste spoke up “But if I beat you, you’re giving me your computer password.”

“Fine, but when I win, I get locks on both my bedroom door and the bathroom inside” she challenged.

Agreste senior nodded his head and replied bored “Only if you win.”

“First to be knocked down three times loses” she grinned. She went to grab her two training twin swords and handed one to little Agreste.

“These are real swords” he exclaims clearly off balance by the weight of the weapon.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic, neither have an edge” they got into positions and it was easy to see who would be victorious. I got locks and some privacy oh the small victories are truly sweet.

---

Sunday was uneventful, but so long as she was in the mansion for meals unless she had checked in with Mme. Sancoeur, she was free to her own devices.

Monday she would come to regret that it had to end later, but not for a while at least.

Mari rode to school with little Agreste and that was her first mistake. Everyone in the entire school watched her exit the car added to the fact that she's starting in the middle of the semester and that kicks.

She was wearing a charcoal shirt splattered with metallic red paint, a faux caramel brown leather jacket with a hood, black jeans with burgundy all stars. Her hair was down, and a black messenger bag was over her shoulder.

She got out and simply walked in and towards the main office ignoring everyone, she got her schedule and a map of the school. The principal himself walked her to her homeroom and to her horror little Agreste was in the class.

"Mlle. Bustier" he spoke. "Meet your new student."

"Please introduce yourself" she spoke with a sweet smile.

"Bonjour my name is Marinette, and I will be a part of your class for the next four years."

Marinette moved to take the open seat in the back but of course Little Agreste had to speak. "Mari there is an open seat behind me."

It took all of herself control to not facepalm. "I prefer the back"

"I'll spar you for it"

Now she couldn't hide the smile in her eyes or the one playing on her lips "Okay Agreste, but what makes you think you'll win this time?

"Fencing uses lighter swords" he answered mumbling the end.

"Wait why are you challenging the new girl?" a boy in a red hoodie and two-toned hair asks.

"Probably to redeem his honor from our last bout" she was now smiling. Maybe this won't be all bad.

"Then I get the next challenge" the same boy answered confidently.

"Alright" she agreed "Name your sport, um..."

"Sorry Le Chien Kim" he supplied. "Swimming freestyle"

"You're on" a devilish smirk on her lips. Afterwards everyone introduced themselves and she sat down in the back.

They spoke with M D'Argencourt about it during lunch and he told them to wait until after school for the fencing club to set up. So, they did. Honestly, the class isn't so bad, just a little pushy, apparently a student isn't here today but should be back soon. When they all went back after school, that was when Marinette saw her.

"Gami" Marinette ran to the girl in a red fencing outfit and gave her a brief hug.

"Mari-hime what are you doing in Paris?" she asked.

"Exchange program" Mari waved it off.

"Your brother?"

"Not interested" Mari responded.

"So why at the fencing club?"

"Agreste challenged me."

She looked towards the blonde and gave him a pitying glance. "Then you should both change"

"Right" Mari called as she went to the locker rooms. Her uniform was a red bodice with black sleeves and pants, but the gloves, shoes, and socks were a shade of green so dark it appeared black, the stitches on the entire thing were in golden thread. Both her saber and helmet were a combination of black and gold.

They both got into positions when Marinette heard her.

"This is going to be a slaughter" and Gami was right.

Faster than anyone could blink Mari had scored a touch before little Agreste even moved.

"Huh and here I was hoping for a challenge. Agreste" she turned away from him and faced Kagami "Match?" was all she asked, and the girl stood and faced Mari.

Facing Kagami was like fencing Damian. Both are powerhouses and decisive, but Mari's strength was in speed and agility. They met each other strike for strike, she is probably one of the few civilians that may be a match for her and her brother. By the end of practice, she was offered a spot on the team which she accepted.

To little Agreste's dismay Kagami offered to show her around Paris, to which she had agreed.

---

One-month Mari had to settle into her new class. She made fast friends with Le Chien, after their swimming match where she also met a girl named Ondine, Alix Kubdel was next she is competitive with a need for speed, side note never let her meet Jason. Max Kante and Nathaniel Kertzberg were also added to our little group. She met Luka Couffaine while wandering Paris for inspiration, they became fast friends, and she designed the costumes for Kitty section as well as their Demo Album cover. The final and most shocking, apparently, addition to their group was Chloe Bourgeois. Along with Kagami her small group of friends were unshakeable and for the next four years will be thankful for them.

After that one month, a weasel entered the class. Her name was Lila Rossi and everything that came out of her mouth was a lie. Honestly, Mari wouldn't give her a second thought but then the strikes against her grew.

Lila's first mistake was lying about her best friend, Jon, or in reality about Superboy. Oh, she was in a relationship with him. Sorry but Jon is super bi, but leans towards men more, like a walking romantic mess that was a golden moment when he figured it out. The same can be said when it finally dawned on Damian when he figured out for himself. As the amazing sister that she is of course she would tease those two. But the teasing and cooing only escalated when the two started dating. So ya not buying that he took you out, much less as Superboy.

Lila's second mistake was threatening Mari in the bathroom. Please if your going to threaten someone make sure you aren't being recorded. And second don't threaten a Wayne, especially an Al Ghul turned Wayne. So, Marinette recorded every lie, every threat, and every reaction. If she were going down not even the Devil himself would think to help her.

Unfortunately, it had a rather annoying side effect. Little Agreste kept pulling her aside to try and make peace with the liar.

"Please Marinette, can you stop calling out Lila" he repeated for the up-tenth time . They were on their way to dinner about two months after Lila rejoined the class. "Just take the high road"

They were in the hallway outside of the dining room.

"No" Mari stated as calmly as she could. As they both walked in, Mme. Sancoeur and M. Agreste were already inside.

"Why? Her lies aren't hurting anyone"

"Not hurting anyone" she spoke finally turning towards the blonde "What unicorns and rainbows paradise do you live in?"

"Wait, what?"

"Nino almost didn't enter his script for a contest because Lila said she would get someone in Hollywood to help produce it" she answered "It took Max, Nathanial, and I almost an hour for him to submit it on the thought it couldn't hurt"

"Okay that's one"

"Alya's reputation as a reporter is plummeting. She doesn't fact check and believes Lila solely on the idea that 'Lila wouldn't lie to her'. Where Lila uses her blog to spread her lies."

"Yes but no one believes everything they hear or read.”

"Really" Mari arched her brow, Alfred would be proud "then explain how most of Paris believes you and Lila to be an item"

"Mlle. Wayne came to explain" M. Agreste finally spoke.

"Oh, most of Paris believes that your son is in a romantic relationship with Lila Rossi" Mari spoke calmly as she opened her phone and pulled up the post from Alya's blog to show the screen.

"What?" the confusion was clear on little Agreste's face as he also pulled up the blog. The meal for her was quite quick but M. Agreste held back little Agreste.

Mari was sketching in the quiet of her room latter that evening when she heard a soft knock at the door. She opened the door and there stood little Agreste fidgeting.

"I'm sorry I never liked how Lila hung off of me but that was harassment, then I realized that's what I've been doing to you I am so sorry. You probably hate me for how I acted, and I understand if you can't trust me or forgive me and I'm sorry." He spoke so fast and barely breathed as he turned about to leave, but he stopped when Mari spoke.

"Okay. Redo"

"What?" he asked tilting his head.

"Let’s start over" she smiled.

"So, you forgive me!"

"No, I am not forgiving you" he looked saddened "I will hold you accountable, but I am, willing to start a new chapter."

"Okay” he looked a bit relieved.

"Hello. I am Marinette Wayne." she extended her hand to shake his.

"Adrien Agreste" he smiled shaking hands. "I'Il get out of your hair then." he sent a small wave that she returned and left.

---

Okay so maybe I exaggerated a bit, but Lila did make these past three and a half years a living pain. Mlle. Bustier fought to keep their class for all four years. The only addition was Kagami in the second year of Mari’s exchange.

But here she was sitting in the back with her friends waiting for the last class of the day to start. Then it happened Principle Damocles and Mlle. Bustier walked in.

"Mlle. Wayne" Damocles called.

"Thank the gods" Mari stated packing up her things and she walked down. "I would say it was a pleasure but that would be a lie" Mari just finished speaking when Alya decided to open her mouth.

"Where are you going class hasn't even started." Alya smiled trying to get Mari in trouble, but neither adult did anything.

"If you really want to know because it seems you've forgotten. I am a foreign exchange student from America, where I will be finishing the final term." Her words must have made some sense to their one community brain cell because they nodded, and she left.

Marinette flew back to Gotham and oh was this going to be great.

Of course, when she landed Poison Ivy, Harley Quinn, and Catwoman were making mischief in the airport. She recorded a video of the Bats stopping them, of course they were monitoring it because of her flight but I digress, and Nightwing lecturing them while Batman looked so done. Along with Jay-Jay or really Red Hood taking Mari's phone and taking a selfie with her, her hair was in braid tucked into a black beanie with a pair of red sunglasses. A halter top that had a golden rod yellow X on it. The top quadrant was red, and the rest was back. A black sweater lined and faded to red at the bottom. Comfortable black and red leggings with black flats. She posted the videos and picture captioned 'Back in Gotham. Home Sweet Home! Hood give me back my phone.' on her public account, before even exiting the terminal.

Her class will be here in about two weeks and stay as long, but right now she need a good stretch.

She found Alfred and loaded up her bags into the car and jumped in, told Alfred, transformed, and portaled out. As soon as the portal closed, she was in the middle of a huge hug from all her brothers. Patrol wasn't too bad, there was a run in with the Riddler and a separate incident with Killer Croc but that is a light day in Gotham.

After patrol was mostly filled with junk food, video games, and movies with her brothers.

Going back to Gotham Academy was like she never left. In a way she didn't, as every break she made sure to spend some time with her friends, dragging Damian with her. She would constantly text or video chat with them. To the extent that they knew about Lila and her class, almost as well as her family.

Two blissful weeks of quiet and patrols filled with teasing and bets was amazing. Yes, she will miss patrolling with Nightrunner. Yes, he is part of the extended Bat clan, but it is different with her brothers.

---

Three days granted that was longer than Marinette gave the class to avoid a villain attack. Of course, it had to happen when they were visiting, WE. Dick had volunteered to lead the tour, mainly to get more evidence, but Mari wasn't there. Since she was on break, she decided to take lunch for her brothers. The cafeteria food was good but still, and Tim would probably be holed up in his office.

She was in a blue collared button up tucked into a black skater skirt. A black and indigo letterman Jacket, black glasses frames and blue heels finished the outfit.

"Nettie?" Dick asked when she entered the cafeteria.

"Brought you lunch." Dick's face lit up.

"You are a god send"

She giggled as he took the food. "Not exactly but close."

"You going to force Timmy to eat"

"Yeah. Is he still in his office?"

"Should be"

"See ya at home Dicky Bird" she turned and found herself facing her class. Most of them registered she was there and glared at her seemingly guarding Lila from her sight, her friends noticed her so she sent a wave to Kagami, Chloe, Kim, Alix, Nathanial, and Max.

Getting Tim to eat usually proves a challenge. Mostly because he has one hand glued to a coffee mug and the other on his work. Yet when you make an entire meal into finger foods that are perfectly bite sized it is a breeze. She was going to leave when both Tim's and her phone shot an alarm. It was from Dick 'WE 2 Face' In a flash Mari transformed and waited for Tim, opened a portal, and fell into the lobby.

The two of them took out the goons and restrained them before turning towards Two Face.

"The word on the street is that you and the bird are dating, and you know the Bat." Two Face spoke out to everyone, "Let's hear what other secrets these lips will spill." A gun was held up, presumably to the teen's mouth, but neither Red Robin nor Scarlet could see.

He was clearly holding a teen hostage, and that was when they saw the two hanging sausages, Lila. For the first time since Mari had known her, she was quiet, or at least silently whimpering.

"So, who is she dating?" Scarlet asked yoyo in hand pointing at Lila.

"Robin" she gasps.

"What!?" Both of them yelled before Red Robin started again. "Crap when did I get a girlfriend. Scarlet please tell me this is just a hallucination! I swear if this is, I won’t drink a single drop of coffee for a month!”

Scarlet however was barely standing doubled over with laughter. "She’s a little young for you don't cha think."

"Not helping" Red Robin was in full out panic pacing back and forth trying to comprehend what was being said.

That was when Lila seemed to find her voice again "I'm dating Robin not you."

"Wait, What?" Both vigilantes snapped out of their laughter and panic respectfully. They shared a look and fell to the ground laughing. Two minutes later Batman and Robin showed up. Scarlet and Red Robin were now on their feet but still laughing. No one not even Two Face moved because as everyone knows, Robin is taken and no one will be getting between those two, much less a girl.

"Robin" Batman nodded and to the two laughing teens, Robin nodding in acknowledgement.

"No need B" Red Robin finally stopped laughing.

"Hey Birdie when did you get a girlfriend?" Scarlet asked fully knowing the answer already.

"Tt. Don't be idiotic Scarlet."

"Then why is she saying she is?" Two Face now had the bat fam's attention.

"Who are you?" Robin asked the girl pinned between Two Face’s arm and gun.

"Apparently the girlfriend you never knew existed before three seconds ago." Red Robin supplied, now fully enjoying the shock on his brother’s face.

"Is that why you two were laughing like idiots?"

"Well yes" Scarlet spoke up then whispered 'Voyage, Venom' and Two Face became frozen in place.

Lila was now glaring at Scarlet as she began to yell "What the hell. Why didn't you do that sooner!"

Scarlet snapped her fingers and pointed at Lila "Oh now I remember you" she semi shouted getting the attention of everyone in the lobby. "You’re the girl from Paris who said she was dating Superboy." Lila now seemed to significantly pale.

"Are you saying this girl has claimed to have dated both Superboy and I" At this point both Scarlet and Red Robin had moved and were physically holding back Robin.

"Scarlet" Batman called.

"On it" 'Voyage' "Hey Supes your boyfriend needs you" Superboy then took Robin in a hug from behind resting his chin on top of Robin's head. Her brother now willingly refraining from moving to stay in his boyfriend's arms, while Red Robin left to talk with Commissioner Gordon.

"Miss you are lucky no one was injured, and we were here to take action, your fantasies are just that. Let's go" Batman had lectured the girl who could have been switched with a statue at this point.

All the vigilantes left, and Mari sure as hell made certain Tim finished his food. In fact, he hadn't even changed out of his Red Robin uniform, so Mari guarded the door. She only left when he finished eating, knowing he could now fully react.

Mari was walking out of the elevator and into the lobby and you could practically see the change that occurred. Most of the class were huddled together, her friends were to the side along with Adrien, and Lila was practically glued to the teacher.

She spotted Alfred with Dick not far from her friends, so she decided to go over and speak with her friends.

Unfortunately, that just caused hell's gates to open as she approached, she heard. "You knew she was a liar didn't you" Alya yelled at her friends and Agreste, but Alya was specifically yelling at Agreste. That made her blood boil, so she stepped in.

"Yes, but you didn't believe me when I told you, you didn't believe them either" Mari was now standing between her friends and the blogger. "Agreste didn't want to rock the boat and how you were all treating me it is no wonder."

"Ya but she is a liar, and you are a bully" Alya retorted.

"Was I a bully. Or was that what you were told by the liar" Alya now went quiet. Of the almost four years she was in Paris there was never any proof she bullied Lila. No bruises, no destroyed items, just she said claims. "Yes, I called her out on her lies but that was all. You all were the ones who acted on her words that I bullied her with no proof and bullied me to ‘teach me a lesson'. I have more than enough evidence however, on most of this class and the liar, for cases of assault, slander, defamation of character, and destruction of property."

By now everyone in the lobby was watching this unfold. The class seemed to pale and attempted to shrink in on themselves. Lila and Mlle. Bustier seemed to try to become one with the floor. Her friends were to the side struggling to not laugh along with Dick and Chloe you traitor put down that phone.

"Miss Wayne" an employee came up to Mari seemingly afraid to get her undivided attention.

"Yes" She smiled, becoming Gotham's sunshine that everyone knew, allowing the employee and the other Gothamites to relax.

"The CEO has locked himself in his office and the Board meeting starts in three minutes" the employee fidgeted with the tablet in his hands. That snapped her into professional mode.

"Dick is the tour done?" she held out her hand to take the tablet, opened it and started going trough the documents.

"Ya"

"Go dig Tim from his office. I'll deal with the board."

"On it"

She quickly looked up to her friends "Sorry guys we should catch up later." She walked away the employee on her heels giving her more information.

A whistle was heard next to the group. "Damn I feel bad for the Board members, Mars is on a warpath and not her usual professional warpath" Dick said to Alfred.

"Reminiscent of Master Bruce even" was Alfred's response.

"She really is a Wayne"

"Master Richard"

"Yes Alfred"

"I believe it is in your best interest to retrieve Master Timothy as Miss Marinette is on a 'Warpath' as you say" Alfred barely finished as Dick began to sprint to the elevator. Alfred only sighed as he followed the eldest Wayne child, leaving very bewildered and mortified Parisians in their wake.

[emmavoid]

In which I go back over episodes 1-5 of Serial Experiments Lain in order to collect my thoughts on them before continuing on to a liveblog proper!

(this was done at butt-o-clock in the morning don't @ me for rambling/misspelling/etc)

Episode 1-

Lain’s shadow, and the shadows near her house, have an intensely weird pattern to them- like there's something hiding deeper within those shadows than any other shadows

The focus on humming powerlines, Lain’s asking them to be quiet- something/someone is trying to communicate with her, even this early on

The steam that comes from Lain’s fingers- at first I thought it was an intense imagination, but it felt similar to the steam coming from her computer in later episodes- another early sign that she’s already in the Wired

“Why did you die?” “God is here.” the first mention of god in the show

As a whole Lain’s family seems off; her parents weirdly robotic, inhuman- almost monstrous in their appearances, and her sister distant; lain did not know them well, and so these simulations of them suffer

When another student dies by jumping in front of the transit train, lain has a strange experience of “viewing” the student’s death while surrounded by fog. I originally thought this was more of her powerful imagination, but having since connected the “fog” or steam to computers, i think this was her simulating the event over again in an attempt to cope with her very human feelings

“Come to the Wired as soon as you can.” More communications from “the universe” to Lain

Episode 2-

the night scene at the beginning of each episode has been, mostly, a repetition of itself, with more communications; however, with Lain not present for most of them, who are they directed towards?

The girl in the nightclub Cyberia- looking at her again on a re-view, she does seem similar to Lain, but wears earrings- something I’ve noticed the “digital” Lain in the opening has that differentiates her from the more innocent, child-like, human Lain.

The explanation of Accel cuts to Lain in class- with the camera specifically focusing on her ear. It seems as if, throughout the show, she’s learning certain information without seeking it out.

The first appearance of the digital ghosts, like what would become of the “fake” version of Lain’s sister in a later episode, plus the figure she “imagined” after the train slow-down.

The man with the gun high on Accel- a test for human-Lain? She freezes, drawing his ire, but when he recognizes her as the Other Lain and points his gun at her, she speaks in a different voice- possibly the Other Lain’s? Possibly… a God-Lain’s voice. The man kills himself as if controlled by an outside force, and Lain appears shocked. I think that God-Lain- the one who has been communicating with Lain all this time- took over to ensure that Lain’s failure of this test wouldn’t lead to her death (or possibly, to interrupting her growth and forcing some kind of reset?)

Episode 3-

After the events of last episode, Lain is shaken- she can barely respond to Arisu. When she returns home, her family is nowhere to be seen- possibly because them existing during all of what happened would be detrimental to her growth? But when she falls asleep at her computer then checks on her family again… their presence or absence isn’t shown.

Another case of information about something strange- this time the Psyche- with a focus on Lain’s ear; again, picking up some kind of information.

“We saw someone die right in front of us yesterday, but we’re acting like it’s something we saw in a movie.” lain's friends are the most fleshed out "people" in the simulation because she knew them the best- and that's why none of them could react properly to the murder in that club, because Lain had never experienced what their reactions would really be like to something traumatic like that.

Lain’s Psyche shows up in her locker- perhaps put there by God-Lain?

The first mention of The Knights, who may have created the Psyche. Are they possibly a front for God-Lain?

Lain’s father attempts to leave immediately when she shows him the Psyche- further evidence that he can only react how he’s “programmed” to? The guy in the club who recognizes Lain- God-Lain has definitely been visiting here regularly.

“I saw you once, in the Wired. You were totally different.” God-Lain doesn’t seem to mind folks knowing about her. Is she leaving hints towards her existence for Lain on purpose?

Lain’s sister is definitely more fleshed out than her parents- when the Agents at the door try to tell her to ignore them she seems properly weirded out

Episode 4-

The origin of my connecting steam/fog to computing power- lain has a fan set up to directly cool part of her computer, releasing steam/condensation

Lain’s parents continue to have strange, robotic responses, but her sister seems genuinely concerned for her.

The main “plot” of this episode- the crossing over of the two net games- seems mostly unrelated to Lain? But it does seem to be causing suicides and murders, showing direct interaction between the Wired and the “real” world

I love the speed with which Lain is acclimating to computers and the Wired- contacting a professional for assistance with the Psyche is a great detail

The more adult-seeming Lain- so, possibly, God-Lain- appears to ask the DJ at the club about the game. But, she’s not there when he looks, and after that scene Lain has suddenly learned about and downloaded the game in question. Was it maybe Human-Lain tapping into her latent god powers to learn this information from him?

A Lain travels through the net game, and seems to try to contact a fleeing player. “I can’t go where you are.” The voice sounds much more like Human-Lain? Then the player encounters a child and kills her- seemingly in-game, but then one or more corpses can be seen wrapped in sheets afterwards as Lain watches. Highly unlikely that this guy had a real gun IRL- especially in Japan- so this seems to be more Wired/IRL fuckery.

“My buddies and I think this might be the work of the Knights too.” A point against my theory of the Knights being God-Lain?

“I’ll be able to enter it soon. … Don’t worry, I’m still me.” “Sometimes, I wonder…” Yeah, there’s no way this is a real reaction her real father would have.

“The Knights do not physically exist. They can be thought of as a religion that is spreading through the Wired.” And then this quote feels like another point towards my God-Lain theory!

the two men who were spying on lain... I think might've been actual outside agents given representation so that human-Lain would have the chance to deal with them- which, she did, by tapping into her god-powers to destroy their spy-glasses (which, when she did, caused her computer's fans to go into overdrive to keep it cooled)

Episode 5-

Lain hears directly from a being calling itself God, before the episode jumps to focusing on her sister for most of the episode.

This episode felt like it was jossing my theory- how could this whole reality be for Lain’s benefit if her sister was experiencing strange stuff?

“There is nothing that you don’t know. I can’t tell you a story that doesn’t exist.” On some level, Lain is both God-Lain and Human-Lain. These conversations with the doll, the mask, then fakes of her parents throughout the episode, seem to be more of Lain learning without personally experiencing- being fed information by her other self.

“The other side is overcrowded. The dead will have nowhere to go.” Isn’t this straight up a quote from one of the Romero zombie flicks?

All the talk of prophecy and “fulfill the prophecy”... Lain seems to be on a set path towards entering the Wired, which is part of why it seems like this is just her reliving an approximation of something that already happened.

A connection between the Knights and The Prophecy. The fake of Lain’s sister isn’t the only one to encounter word of the prophecy, since we hear about it from Lain’s friends as well

Hmm… I hadn’t thought of it before, but, mayhaps the fake of Lain’s sister doesn’t show until the strange holo-effects of her water at dinner? None of the really weird stuff happens to her until after… maybe this was a copy of her then, made during that moment before being pushed into this prophecy-horror scenario?

The Lain’s Sister who enters the house crying then sees herself disappears- or, it seems she does, until Lain sees a digital ghost of her, like she had previously seen in the school… after seeming to see this other self of hers, the real Lain’s sister seems… robotic and nonchalant. Was she a full, real person before this happened?

Theory Overall thus far-

my theory thus far is that lain's already living in the wired, and is, in fact, a god there- she is both Lain and The Knights; but, the more human part of her, Lain, is reliving her pre-wired memories with slight alterations in order to help her get to the point where she can accept her godhood.

the opening of the show ties into my theory too- that god-Lain (portrayed in the intro with earrings) is spread throughout the world, controlling everything, while human-Lain (in her much more childish outfit) is just experiencing and trying to understand the world

Things that were pointed out to me-

Arisu’s name is a romanization of Alice (referencing Alice in Wonderland)

Be inc and Copland being old computer companies

[ellenchain]

Do you have any tips on how to start digital art? I want to try but I just don’t know what to do

Hey there! 

I'll try to give you a few tips that come to my mind spontaneously and that were on my mind when I started drawing digitally. Since I don't know whether you are referring to hardware, software or drawing itself, I'll try to cover all three:

1) Hardware To be able to draw digitally, you need a device that lets you draw on a PC or an all-in-one device. I started with a Wacom Bamboo Fun, which is no longer available. I think an equivalent is now the Wacom One (without screen); or any other company. These are all classic tablets where you draw on the plastic surface without a screen. So you always have to look at your screen in front of you, not at your hand. It takes a bit of practice, but you learn quickly. Be sure to check the quality of the pen: how many pressure points are there and does it support tilting, etc.? Many very inexpensive products cut corners here.

The big next step is tablet PCs (all-in-one devices), although I'm personally not a fan of them. The iPad seems to be quite good, but also expensive. I have a Surface Pro, which I can't recommend. It's great as a PC, but not for drawing. 

I use a Wacom Cintiq now, which is a screen you draw on, but you need an extra computer for it to work. Also, it cost me 2k at the time - it’s basically a very expensive screen. So it's definitely not for beginners and I don't recommend it to you yet. It's best to get something cheap and then upgrade when you realise that it's good for you. If you want an all-in-one device, an iPad is probably the best solution here, otherwise the simple tablets without a screen.

Many have touch, some don't. Personally, I deliberately decided against touch at the time because I had a bad experience with the feel of my Surface. Hit or miss I guess.

The most important part: It doesn't matter that you get the most expensive device now because so many established artists have those. There are many very very good artists who still use the "simple" tablets without screens. Everyone has their preference and I think that's what you have to find!

2) Software Here it probably depends on what you want to draw: Illustrations or comics. Some apps are more suited to one or the other.

Personally, I'm an absolute fan of Clip Studio Paint (Pro), which is often on sale for little money. Photoshop is very powerful and simply too powerful (and too expensive) for beginners.

Programs that I consider user-friendly and suitable for illustrations AND are free (PC):

Krita

Autodesk Sketchbook

Medibang Paint

PaintTool Sai

They're all fine for a start, but are limiting when it comes to brushes, materials and functions.

Programs that are good for illustrating (iPad):

ProCreate (just under 11€ once)

Clip Studio Paint (7€/month)

For PC/Mac, Clip Studio Paint is a one-off price. They usually have a spring sale - here you can get the basic version for just 40€, which I would highly recommend to anyone, as the programme is very powerful and still user-friendly. The big advantage I see with Clip Studio Paint is that it gives you a perfect interface for drawing comics while remaining flexible enough for illustrations. ... now I sound like a commercial 😬

3) Art If you have drawn traditionally before, digital art is not that different. As described above, you would have to get used to it for a short time, but everything else remains the same. How you move a pencil and how to draw for example eyes.

In my opinion, everything stands and falls with brushes and overlays in order to get a satisfactory result that corresponds to the previous traditional standard. Textures can completely change images and give them a "real" appearance.

It is also important to know that if you have had experience with e.g. Copic, colour works very differently digitally. Here you probably have to look more closely at colour theories to make sure you don't reach for the poisonous green for the grass, which with a Copic will eventually soak into the paper and dry and become a pleasant grass green. That’s not going to happen with digital colours.

Otherwise I can recommend Youtube videos. There are some good videos here that explain anatomy, etc. Marc Brunet does some really nice stuff, although I think it’s all about personal preference here.

In the end: draw what you like! And don't get discouraged if something doesn't work right away. We digital artists have Ctrl+Z, but many other pitfalls that you will probably notice in the course of time.

Hope that was a bit helpfull! 💕

[skellebonez]

Smoke, Flasks, and Unfinished Tasks: Chapter 8

AO3 Link!

Chapter 1 Link!, Chapter 2 Link!, Chapter 3 Link!, Chapter 4 Link!, Chapter 5 Link! Chapter 6 Link! Chapter 7 Link!

Summary: What makes them tick, what gets under their skin, our villain wants to find out. Let’s see.

Warnings: These characters are going through it, the warnings on AO3 for Blood and Injury, Childhood Trauma, and Emotional/Psychological Abuse start here.

Author’s note: it has been almost 72 hours since Revenge of the Spider Queen aired in English and now I can finally post this. MINOR SPOILERS INSIDE (and in future chapters).

Chapter 8: Endurance Test

Red Son took a half step back, trying to take stock of his surroundings and keep his breathing steady at the same time. MK and Mei had to be somewhere nearby, he didn't know precisely how the Calabash worked but he could make a pretty decent assumption based on their experiences so far and what Jin had told them. This was all perception, a trick of the virtual reality simulation peaking into his brain and showing him an approximate visage of what he had experienced before. He was not truly back in one of the worst day's of his life...

And it was painfully obvious with the less than conspicuous absence of his mother. He remembered this day well, far too well perhaps, and his mother should still be standing behind him on his left. Not even the fairest hint of her wind was there to suggest she had ever left or been there in the first place. Was she there before? He had been too distracted by hearing his father repeat those possessed words again to know.

"And what do you think you're doing?" That same voice growled out lowly, sending a shudder up Red Son's spine that only intensified as DBK's blue glowing eyes settled on him. "Sneaking away?"

"No!" Red Son answered quickly, standing straighter and shaking his head with a forced smile. It came so easy, too easy, too fast, like he was slipping into an old habit. It was an old habit. "No, father, I-"

"Don't lie to me," DBK growled. "I don't trust anything you say. Why would I trust you? You have brought me nothing but failure time and time again, nothing but disappointment!"

He'd heard the words before, he thought he had moved past them, but as he heard his father speak down to him again he found himself repeating the past. Standing tense and clenching his fist and feeling his sharp teeth clench against his lip, threatening to break the skin with the taste of copper and there was ice flowing down his neck-

"Traitor-yes! Perhaps..." And then he remembered what was to come next, eyes widening in fear as his father turned more fully toward him and his mother wasn't there. "You thought you could deceive me? Stand against me!?"

Red Son felt himself scream at his body to move to run to shield himself to do anything but he just watched in terror as his father's not his father no he wouldn't do this fist slammed right into his face and-

He was pulling his own fist back from his face, about to send one more punch into it before he stopped himself with a gasp and a shudder. He looked around frantically, breathing heavy and panicked, no longer in the throne room of his parents but...

"Uh, what's he doing Wukong?"

He stood up straight, head reeling around and instantly recognizing the scene before him.

He was young. He was small. He was powerful, more powerful than he had been in centuries, flames burning bright under his skin in a way that felt so fake but so familiar. And he was facing Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie.

There was the soft whisper of a woman's chuckle and words he couldn't quite hear on the wind and-

"What in the world are you doing?"

He turned again, his face burning in pain before it faded as if he had never been touched. His father was standing before him again, smaller and scowling in a chef's frock.

"This was your idea, finish getting ready before the festival starts."

----------

"Uh, Kid?" Macaque repeated, his fake so fake he could see that now half smile faltering into something more genuine frustratedly confused. "Come on, talk to me. We're not going to get anywhere if you don't comu-"

"Shutup..."

"Huh?" Macaque's eyebrows raised in surprise. "What did you just say to me?"

"Shut up!" MK screamed, teeth clenched as he extended the staff into the fake monkey. Calabash or not he refused to face the man who had messed with his head so badly without getting at least one cheap shot in for revenge.

He felt a sense of satisfaction as Macaque's face twisted in pain and surprise and anger and-

Suddenly he was in the sky looking down at that nearly identical face, plus one milky white eye and scar, smirking up at him in cruel victory before a fist slammed into his stomach and pain radiated through his entire body.

It was so much like when it really happened that he almost forgot this was fake, just like everything Macaque had done before this very moment every smile and ruffle of his hair and compliment on his technique. When this happened for real his whole body burned like fire had lit through his veins in a single second and then rushed to escape immediately after and out through that spot on his back.

The Calabash didn't know how to replicate that properly. That's the only reason MK found himself able to tense and curl a fist and turn to smash the face of the shadow clone that had lead him here and-

"OW, what the hell, Bud!?" Wukong yelped as MK's fist landed in his face. "I know I'm invincible but that still smarts!" He rubbed his nose, looking up at his student with a look of genuine emotional hurt and confusion. "If you didn't wanna watch the fireworks you could have just left..."

MK ripped his hand back in shock and fear, staring at the Monkey King in confusion. He had just punched Monkey King, a fake Monkey King but still his mentor, right in the face. And to the Calabash clone it was out of nowhere and for no reason.

"I..." MK started, breathing growing heavy and fast and there was a wheeze under it as he heard a chuckle and some kind of mumble distantly.

----------

"Oh no!" Mei yelled, spinning around as she stood and glowered up at the fake visage of her ancestors. "No, I have done this already! I've proven myself long ago and I refuse to let some computer program play with my brain and use my family to make me prove myself again!"

Mei was angry. Mei was strong. And Mei lifted her blade above her head and slammed it into the wall behind her and smashed it, debris flying around her and making the fake visage around her blow away like smoke through the wind.

She smiled in victory, wide and triumphant and there was a chuckle, loud as if it was right behind her ear as she felt something not unlike hands pushing her forward and-

MK looked up at her in confusion, holding his chest as it slowly stained red from the fresh slash across his body. "Mei? What... what did I...? Why?"

There was a wall there, Mei knew there was a wall there not even a second ago. But now her best friend was falling to the ground and her sword was stained with red and her parents stood behind MK looking at her in anger and disgust. She stared in confusion and horror and she knew this wasn't real it couldn't be real and-

The food she was holding slipped from her hands as she gasped and looked around wildly, breathing heavy in confusion as Pigsy's angered expression changed to match the worried one that Tang was sending her way.

"Uh, you ok Mei?" Pigsy asked, eyebrow raising.

"You're going to require more work than the others, I see." The voice that matched the chuckle she had heard before whispered in her ear.

----------

"And you are becoming annoying," that same voice, Princess Jade Face's voice, rang through the tiny room Jin had been breaking his hands in as he attempted to escape. He couldn't hear whatever had come before that and, but he could only assume it was directed at one of the trio. "It's actually kind of depressing, watching you hurt yourself like this."

"Oh come off it," Jin hissed, rubbing his knuckles and scowling as he sat back down. "You're enjoying this."

"Hmmmmn, not really," Jade said, humming again as she typed something on the console. "You know, if you had just cooperated you could be sitting in the actual room with your brother." He voice grew cold, annoyance and frustration lining under it. "All you had to do was follow the rules."

"And what are you going to do 'bout that?" Jin asked, tapping his fingers against the floor. Ring, pinky, ring, middle, pointer. Repeat. Repeat.

"Oh, I've already done plenty," Jade continued, voice back to her neutral happy tone. "All you have to do is sit tight and maybe I will release you both to the Spider Queen aware enough for you to explain to her exactly why I had to keep you to myself. Or not. It depends on whether or not you continue to break back into your code."

Jin cursed under his breathe, scowling down at his hand as a lightning jolt of pain coursed through it and immediately eased. A warning. She'd noticed his little pattern.

"It's not really that big of a deal to me, though," she continued with a chuckle. "Everything is going exactly how I want it to. Even if you break out of there you won't be able to find your little fail safe. So don't bother trying."

She went quiet after that, and Jin listened for the tell tale sound of outside noise filtering into the Calabash through the opening she had opened to allow her voice to speak through (he was glad they never remembered to add wireless voice to this thing). And there was none. He waited a moment, sitting still.

No voice.

No lightning jolt of pain.

The door opened and Jin smirked.

Good.

She hadn't noticed the pattern he'd been drawing with the tail he had finally figured out how to control.

[beca-mitchell]

you are my favorite thing (1/1)

Summary: Beca and Chloe find themselves alone in their apartment after the instruction comes to self-isolate. Set pre-PP3. Just pretend PP3 doesn’t exist.

Notes: Apologies for this fic. It stuck with me...and I had to write it before it drove me crazy. I know it's not that good but hopefully it brings a small smidge of levity to your lives. <3 I promise I'm working on other stuff, just haven't been feeling well lately.

Word count: 3.1k

Rated M/E.

Read below or on AO3.

When the announcement came that it would be in everybody’s best interest to self-quarantine and self-isolate, Beca hadn’t really known what to expect. In fact, she feels kind of bad for not taking this more seriously and leaving Chloe to pick up the slack. Chloe, who had been almost zealously preparing for the “worst to come” by her standards.

And now, apparently the CDC’s standards.

With the rampant news updates and social media seemingly tearing itself apart at the seams, Beca kind of wishes she had picked a career that required her to be on her computer less but now as she lugs her two laptops and three pairs of headphones home from the label’s head office in midtown, she supposes that she has no choice.

“Oh good, you’re home,” Chloe says upon seeing her. She reaches out automatically to help Beca with her bags as Beca belabours the fact that they live on the fourth floor of their walk-up. She tries to smile gratefully at Chloe, but Chloe is already pacing across the small kitchen space in front of her.

“No welcome home?” Beca jokes. She shrugs off her blazer and moves towards the rack of clothes so she can hang it up neatly. Chloe quickly places a hand on her chest but before Beca has a chance to squawk indignantly at Chloe’s hand placement (Beca totally doesn’t think it’s nice or whatever...because she doesn’t care), Chloe stares at her seriously.

“Do we have enough groceries?”

“Did you eat all the groceries from two days ago?” Beca asks, confused. She turns on her heel to open the fridge to check. “Nope, we literally have all the food that we still haven’t eaten.”

Chloe slumps, moving to sit at the table instead. “Sorry, it’s just been super hectic today. I know we just went to get stuff, but my parents are stressing me out so much.”

Beca smiles sympathetically. “I get it, my dad was messaging me all day today. I told him it would be fine. It’s just a matter of waiting it out.” Beca injects some optimism into her tone. “Plus, Amy isn’t around this weekend so…” she trails off hoping Chloe will understand.

Chloe brightens. “Trashy television night?”

Internally Beca groans, but the smile on her face is genuine because it’s worth it to see Chloe smile.

— — — — —

So the whole having a crush on your captain/co-captain/best friend/bedmate thing?

Kind of overrated. Beca’s over it—or she wants to be over it.

She wants to stop thinking about how nice Chloe’s smile is or how effortlessly Chloe can lift her when she overenthusiastically hugs Beca.

Or how ridiculously happy Chloe makes her.

All those dumb things and dumb feelings that she never really felt to any extreme or significant levels with Jesse. And definitely not that one night stand after her break-up with Jesse.

It’s just that Chloe had somehow always been there, somehow slipping through the cracks and all the crevices of Beca’s carefully constructed walls—places that Beca didn’t even know were available to fall victim to Chloe’s special brand of love and care.

But if there’s one thing that Beca has come to love about Chloe, it is exactly that care—that specific way Chloe somehow makes her feel like she’s the most cherished person in a room. In the world, maybe.

It’s gross and cheesy.

Beca loves it.

It just kind of sucks that all of this pondering—all the pondering the world, maybe—wasn’t enough for Beca to be wary of what it would mean to be stuck twenty-four-seven in an enclosed space with the girl she’s in love with.

— — — — —

With how busy their lives have been, Beca realizes with a pang in her heart that she really hasn’t had time to just sit down with Chloe and just be. It’s Tuesday and after a weekend spent just catching up with Chloe and meal-prepping for the rest of the week, Beca realizes that this whole situation could be a lot worse.

I’ve missed you, is what she wants to say.

Like most things when it comes to her feelings for Chloe, it just sticks inside her head instead and she settles on saying good morning to Chloe.

“It feels weird,” Chloe admits, sitting down next to Beca on Tuesday morning. She scoots her chair closer to press her cheek against Beca’s shoulder.

Beca scrolls lazily through her social media feeds, a habit she picked up from Chloe. Naturally, her body turns into the warmth offered by Chloe’s close proximity. “What feels weird?”

Chloe sighs. It is a large enough sigh to shift Beca’s shoulder as Chloe moves against her. “Not having work.”

Unlike Beca who was permitted to work from home, Chloe’s supervisor suggested that she just take some time off. It wasn’t like Chloe was really being paid a lot to begin with, as a temporary veterinary assistant, but Beca knows that the blow must be hard on both the financial and emotional level.

“You can be my assistant for the day,” Beca suggests. “I have to finish finalizing a few tracks on this album. You can give me feedback. It’ll just be like the old days. Just, um, don’t tell anybody about it. And no posting on social media.”

Chloe immediately brightens at that, like Beca just offered her the entire world on a silver platter. The kiss that she presses to Beca’s cheek is absolutely worth it.

— — — — —

Chloe is, as Beca has always known, incredibly attentive. She also has no real concept of personal space.

Beca knows however, that if she had bothered to say anything to Chloe about that, Chloe would have backed off years ago, but Beca kind of likes that it’s their thing. Kind of.

So when Chloe leans right over her shoulder to watch her work, Beca says nothing.

Whatever.

This is way better than being stuck in an office.

— — — — —

“Hey,” Chloe says, drawing Beca’s eyes up from her screen. “I’m just going to shower, do you mind.”

Beca shakes her head, no, because she doesn’t mind. Chloe lives here too. Chloe can totally walk around half-naked if she wants. She’s confident about all that. Chloe can toss a towel over her shoulder and hum to herself. Chloe can squeeze Beca’s shoulder in affection. Chloe can step into their dingy bathtub, draw back the curtain and proceed to strip off all her clothes in front of Beca—almost quite literally—and just shower a few feet away from where Beca is accidentally deleting an important layer in her audio editing program.

Chloe can do whatever she wants because Beca and Chloe are roommates and that’s what roommates do.

— — — — —

Chloe doesn’t need to shower every day, Beca’s sure of it.

She’s not really complaining. It’s not like she can even see anything, though the reappearance of her rather vivid sex dreams about Chloe on Thursday night is alarming.

But honestly, Beca’s not really complaining even though she hundred percent moves her seat at the kitchen table on Friday so her back is towards the shower.

She thinks Chloe pouts at her on the way to her shower, but Beca’s too busy renaming arbitrary files on her computer to really pay attention to that.

— — — — —

It’s crazy that it is in these circumstances that Beca is really truly considering that she should just tell Chloe how she feels. It’s just hard, wanting to kiss Chloe all the time. It’s hard because they’re really and truly alone and Beca has nothing to do but stare at Chloe’s stupidly perfect face and her lips and she has to see her sweet smile.

It’s gross. Beca’s gross.

(It also doesn’t help that sometimes she catches Chloe staring back—with the same degree of affection to boot. The same care, affection, and desire in her eyes that Beca knows must be shooting out of her own like fucking spotlights.

But she supposes that she could be imagining it too.)

“Beca?” Chloe asks. “Are you watching?”

Chloe’s voice cuts through Beca’s thoughts gently. Beca gazes up at Chloe who has not moved her attention from the screen. She takes the moment to genty observe the curve of Chloe’s nose. The fullness of her lips. The way her lips gently part as she expels a breath.

“Yeah,” Beca says before slowly dragging her eyes back to the screen with some reluctance.

She’s fucked.

— — — — —

Beca Dude where are you

Fat Amy At a friend’s place, don’t wait up xoxoxo

Beca What???? Come home now Amy?????

— — — — —

“Remember college and how I said I wish I experimented more?”

Beca chokes on her water.

“N...yes? Why?” Beca demands, ignoring the way her heart races. Being in close proximity to Chloe tends to do that to her. Nothing new.

Chloe hums to herself. “Nothing. Just lots of time to think today.”

“Oh,” Beca says. “Okay.” She quickly refocuses on her work.

Chloe sighs and returns to her textbook.

— — — — —

Beca blames the long, extended time spent inside. She kind of forgets that they had dinner plans. Or that she probably should have sent that email to her boss.

It’s so easy to forget that they’ve been confined to their apartment for days, but Beca can’t complain.

Mostly because Chloe’s tongue is in her mouth doing absolutely sinful things.

And well—now they’re kind of tumbling onto their deeply uncomfortable but satisfactory for the moment bed, Beca grunting as her back hits the mattress heavily.

“Sorry,” Chloe pants out, drawing back. “Are you—”

“M’fine,” Beca mumbles, pulling Chloe back down for a kiss. Chloe responds eagerly, not-at-all minding that she had been cut off. Instead, she makes a happy little sound, curving her body neatly into Beca’s. The warmth of Chloe’s body on top of her own is driving Beca crazy—that and the distinct lack of friction between her own legs. “Wait,” Beca says, after pushing lightly at Chloe’s shoulders. “Wait—can you—”

Chloe’s brow furrows. “What is it?”

“Just…clothes,” Beca mumbles.

“Oh!” Chloe grins then. “So forward.”

Beca’s cheeks heat up spectacularly. She both loves and hates that Chloe can still tease her like this, even though they’ve both completely eviscerated whatever fragile lines they had set up in their already-confusing friendship.

Chloe, ever the master of making Beca feel many things at once, doesn’t stop there, however. She smiles, leans back—sits all the way upright for Beca’s viewing pleasure—and pulls off her shirt in a smooth motion that makes Beca’s mouth go dry.

Then, when Beca thinks that it can’t get worse…

“I like it when you’re forward,” Chloe murmurs, leaning back down to cup Beca’s cheeks before kissing her so thoroughly and deeply that Beca thinks she might soak through her jeans completely.

Speaking of her jeans—

Beca whimpers into Chloe’s mouth when she feels Chloe’s thumbs expertly popping open the button on her jeans before Chloe is pulling away again to slide the offending material down her legs. Beca scrambles to sit upright so she can pull off her shirt quickly.

It is all pent-up urgency and flying clothes as Chloe climbs back over her, all messy hair and flawless skin, and pulls her into another sweeping kiss. It ought to be illegal, the way Chloe’s tongue flicks through her mouth, desperately seeking out Beca’s. Chloe somehow has made making out a high-level art form and Beca is only all too willing to pay full price for admission to that particular show.

Beca has imagined this, she would be remiss if she weren’t going to admit it right off the bat. It is just difficult reconciling her imagination with this reality because the reality is making Beca’s imagination look very, very weak.

Chloe’s arms come around her, pressing against the mattress before Chloe is rolling them all at once. Beca groans, moving to straddle Chloe which proves to be a mistake, somewhat, because suddenly she can feel the ripple of Chloe’s stomach—damn abs—right against her soaked center. She bites her lip, leaning back slightly and watching with rapt attention as Chloe follows, folding Beca into her arms again.

“I want you so much,” Chloe rasps, voice hot and low against Beca’s neck. “Like, right now.”

Have me, Beca wants to say. I’m yours.

A whole slew of clichés float through Beca’s mind, but all she manages is a guttural moan because Chloe chooses that mount to eagerly palm Beca’s stiff nipple while sucking a nasty hickey into the side of her neck.

“Was that a yes?” Chloe murmurs.

“Fuck yes,” Beca grits out, holding Chloe’s head against her as Chloe’s kisses descend lower so she can envelop Beca’s neglected nipple in her mouth. The sensation of Chloe’s lips, her tongue, the graze of her teeth—all of it right against Beca’s sensitive flesh.

— — — — —

So how that happened is kind of a long story and it might or might not be Beca’s fault.

The short story is that Chloe wanted to watch a movie and Beca had agreed because movie nights with Chloe usually meant cuddling.

But strange times call for unexpected occurrences, though upon reflection, the build-up had been there all along.

(Literally. For years.)

Beca just didn’t really expect the whole making out thing. And the sex thing.

Oh—

And the whole ‘watching Chloe sleep next to her while she runs her fingers through beautiful red hair to calm herself down because her heart is threatening to burst out of her heart’ thing.

That thing.

— — — — —

“You’re horrible at picking up signals,” is the first thing Chloe says to her when Beca wakes up on a bright and sunny Saturday morning.

“I am,” Beca agrees, rolling into Chloe’s body with no intention of going outside ever again. “But maybe you’re horrible at dropping hints.”

“Maybe,” Chloe murmurs, breath hot against Beca’s mouth.

— — — — —

“So this is week two,” Beca says in the most dramatic voice she can muster. She grins at Chloe’s little delighted giggle as she pulls the sheets over both of their heads. It is early Monday and Beca’s phone has been on silent pretty much all weekend. She and Chloe pretty much only left the bed to shower and eat, both of which were activities that could be pleasantly underscored by sex.

“It is week two,” Chloe echoes, pulling Beca in for a slow, muted kiss. It reminds Beca of the kiss Chloe had woken her up with after their first time—the mild disorientation had faded away quickly.

“Whatever shall we do?”

— — — — —

Beca thinks that morning sex absolutely should be part of her regular routine—no matter the circumstances.

Chloe trails gentle fingers down Beca’s neck, between her breasts. Beca waits with heavy breaths, watching Chloe’s progress as she maps out invisible lines on Beca’s body, like an artist at work. Beca clenches her hands into fists, resisting the urge to pull Chloe into another messy kiss. She kind of likes this slower pace—this care and attention bestowed upon her. Chloe’s eyes are incredibly blue as they track over Beca’s body carefully, like she doesn’t want to miss a thing.

“You’re so…” Chloe trails off, sighing happily as she presses lazy kisses around the curve of Beca’s breast before leaning up to suck gently at her nipple. A familiar sensation now, Beca’s back still arches obediently as her breathing quickens.

She doesn’t need Chloe to finish her sentence. She just needs Chloe to continue whatever she’s doing. Naturally, Chloe settles between her legs after a few more torturous minutes of lavishing attention on Beca’s chest. Beca’s hips rock up impatiently, almost of their own accord. She is wholly aware of how uncomfortably wet she is and she knows she’s going to need another shower, but she doesn’t care about that at the moment. The ache between her legs only intensifies when Chloe’s fingers finally make their way to her aching clit.

“Oh fuck,” Beca mumbles. She slowly moves her hand to tangle her hand in Chloe’s hair, needing to feel Chloe closer on all accounts. She spreads her legs wider to accommodate her lover, heaving a breath when Chloe shifts closer still and leans up to press a kiss against Beca’s neck delicately.

“I think I love seeing you like this the most,” Chloe murmurs.

“Like—how?” Beca squeaks out when Chloe’s fingers press down more firmly against her clit. A soft whine escapes her lips.

“This. Spread open. For me.”

Chloe says that like it is the most natural thing she could say to Beca. She says it like she is simply discussing a reading assignment or that she thinks Beca should add another layer of harmonies.

Not at all like she's describing exactly how much Beca wants her; how wet she is; how much she needs Chloe between her legs before she combusts.

Beca pulls Chloe in for a messy kiss, already aching for Chloe’s tongue in her mouth. Chloe indulges her for a few moments, sweeping her fingers through her wet folds. Up, down. Around.

Beca cries out, muffled against Chloe’s mouth. She rips herself away from their kiss. “Chloe, please. Fuck me.”

Chloe grins and leans back in to nip at her lower lip gently. “I thought I was?”

Beca groans in frustration. Fucking tease. She tightens her legs around Chloe’s waist, moving her hips so that Chloe’s fingers almost slip inside her. At the sensation, her head falls back and she lets out a broken whimper.

“Oh,” Chloe murmurs. “You meant like this.” Chloe gently pushes a finger past her folds and Beca clenches hard around it. Chloe begins a slow rhythm, curling her finger every now and then. “And like this.”

It is such a slow, steady pace that Beca has no real reason to complain. Uncomfortably, her neck arches. She reaches down to grip at Chloe’s wrist with a trembling hand, but she does not stop her. “More,” she whimpers. Begs. “Please, baby, more.”

Chloe seems to perk up at the pet name (or the begging—Beca thinks she should do more research; she can absolutely do more research with all the time in the world at her disposal) and to her credit, she listens to Beca for once. She picks up the pace, this time adding a second finger to join the first. Beca grunts at the fullness, blinking up at the ceiling for a brief moment before she squeezes her eyes shut only to see stars explode behind her eyelids. She grunts again, louder, slackening her grip on Chloe’s wrist. Automatically, her hand drifts to her momentarily-neglected clit and she rubs at it with as much pressure as she dares.

Chloe growls—full-on growls—and nips at her throat before using her free hand to move Beca’s hand out of the way. “I want to,” is all she says when Beca opens her eyes, ready to demand Chloe explain herself.

Oh.

Well, if Chloe wants to do that, Beca isn’t going to stop her. They’ve got weeks to figure it out.

— — — — —

Beca Amy, nvm, you should probably stay exactly where you are Just to be safe yknow thanks

fin.

[redrobinhoods]

illicit affairs | Chapter 3, Tokyo Smoke

AO3 Link | 4,500 words (approx) | Chapter 1, Chapter 2, /end

Chapter Summary: Riyo and Fox come to terms with the limits and definition of their relationship

Riyo woke up first.

It took her a moment to remember where the weight on her torso was coming from. She hadn’t slept with another being in her bed in many years, but the last thing she remembered from last night was closing her eyes and focusing on the steady heartbeat of the man holding her. Now she found herself laying on her side with a warm body before her. She didn’t dare shift her position for fear of waking him up, but dropped her head to her chest to look down at her torso. Fox’s arms still crossed around her waist, but his forehead now lay against her chest. She took a few moments to take in the sight.

She’d dated before, back on Pantora, but dating on Pantora and dating on Coruscant were entirely different beasts. She’d been afraid that on Coruscant others would only see her for her position, and so far she’d been right in her assumptions. But Fox was different. He had seen her as a person first and a politician second, and perhaps the latter only because of the bounds of his command. She’d been worried that she may have taken advantage of him in the hospital and in her room when she’d pulled him down into her arms. But now, with his arms still wrapped around her waist in sleep, she felt at ease. She’d never considered dating one of the clones before, certainly not one belonging to the Coruscant Guard. They were supposed to be loyal only to the Republic. Then again, so was she, in a way. Loyalty to the Republic and to her people were supposed to come before all else in her life. That was the vow she had made. But this, this felt right.

She brought one hand over and lay it across his neck, feeling the raised scar tissue underneath her touch. She found herself running her fingers over one in particular, large and ragged. It had to have nearly claimed his life. She could imagine Fox lying prone on the ground as one of the other guardsmen tried to stem the flow of blood from the commander’s neck. The image scared her. She’d known that the Coruscant Guard were all flesh and blood underneath their armor, but knowing that was different than holding it in your hands.

“Some petty thief.” He muttered sleepily. “Didn’t expect them to lunge towards me.”

“Did it hurt?” She continued running her fingers over it, trying to picture the scene in her head.

“For a moment, before shock set in. I lost a lot of blood.” He said it so casually that it hurt her.

“When you saved my life, did that hurt?” The thought had been bouncing around in her head ever seen she’d glanced back at his body in the museum.

He brought one arm up so that he could lay a hand on her hips. He began tracing slow circles in the satin. “Like hell. I almost wish it had been worse so I could’ve passed out.” He looked up to see the despair on her face. “I’d do it again in a heartbeat, for you.”

“I don’t want you to be in pain because of me, Fox.” She moved her hand up from his neck and cupped his jaw, running her thumb over his cheekbones.

“It’s what I was made for, Riyo. We clones were born to die for the Republic. I’ve always been fine with that. Or I was, until last night.”

“And what happened last night?” She prodded. He pushed himself up so that his head lay on the pillow next to hers.

“Well, you see-.”

“Fox, Fox come in!” His commlink beeped from across the room. Fox sighed and pressed his forehead against Riyo’s.

“I think you should answer that.” She said, closing her eyes and leaning back against him.

“Fox, this is urgent. I know you can hear me. If you don’t answer in the next ten seconds I’m sending someone in there, Fox.”

Fox sighed again, then untangled himself from the blankets as he rose, leaving her feeling cold in his absence. “What is it, Thire?”

“Got our bounty hunter to crack. Bounty was placed by Lor Hano, a Trade Federation officer. The same one we had flagged as a potential Separatist sympathizer. He has a home on Coruscant and it’s my understanding that he’s still in town. I’m sending you the address and a squad. I suggest the boys bring the senator back to the office so they can swap shifts. Stone can keep an eye on her in the meantime.”

“Copy that, Thire.” He turned off the comm and turned back to Riyo, who was watching him from under the blankets. “Riyo, I’m sorry.”

“I understand.” She smiled up at him. “But we’re finishing this conversation later.”

“Gladly.” He took a moment to push his hair back from his face before starting to assemble his armor over his body. She sat up as she watched him pull it on, putting the pieces together with ease and familiarity; his fingers barely touching the plastoid except to press the seams together. Her eyes followed the flex of his body under the blacks, she couldn’t believe that she had been pressed against that same body just moments ago. She felt a sadness rising in her chest as he prepared to leave her.

“Fox, don’t die for me.” She begged once he had finished the rapid assembly.

He checked over his armor fitting one last time before walking over to her bed and sitting down beside her. He took her face in his hands and pressed a dry kiss to her forehead. Drawing back, he took a moment to look over her body before returning his gaze to her eyes. “I won’t lie to you and tell you that I’ll be fine, but I want you to know that if I had the choice of who I will die for, I would choose you.”

She looked at him in astonishment as she realized that this is how it would always be for them, if there ever was a them. She’d have to watch him leave every day, not knowing if he would come back to her alive. But yet, she couldn’t ask him to not go. She wondered how he felt to leave her.

“Fox, I think that I lo-.” He placed a finger over his lips before she could finish.

“Don’t say that now, wait until I get back and you have a clear head.” She pushed his hand away, holding it tight in hers.

“I have a clear head now, Fox. I’ve had a clear head for the past four days.” He shook his head, the look in his eyes begging her to stop. She didn’t. “At the museum, in the Natural Formations room when you were talking about forests and fresh air and then you almost died but you’ve barely lived and I want you to experience life. I don’t know how to put that feeling into other words than ‘I love you’. I know that it’s selfish of me to say this now, and you don’t have to love me back, but I really, really want to fall in love with you, Fox.”

He closed his eyes as a shudder ran down his body. A look of pain ran across his features and Riyo suddenly felt horrible for the timing of her confession. Fox had been right, it was torture to say this now rather than later, when she had him in her arms, safe.

“This is Lieutenant Bravo, Commander Fox we’re ready for you.”

Fox looked down to the commlink on his glove, then back at Riyo’s face. He gently withdrew his hand from hers and ran it over her collarbones, smoothing back her unbrushed hair. “I think that I would like to fall in love with you as well, Riyo.”

Before she could react, he was sweeping out of her room and she heard the front door close behind him. She was alone.

---

Riyo felt hollow as she walked through the Senate halls with her escort. It was late morning and many of the senators were already sealed away inside their offices, making the building feel as empty as she did. Her escort left her at the Guard office doors, waiting to make sure that she entered before they retired to the barracks. Commander Stone met her in the main office space, looking far more awake than she did.

"Senator Chuchi.”

“Commander Stone. A pleasure to see you again.” She smiled at the commander then looked around the office. It was quiet at the moment, many of those in the room were sleeping at their desks. Stone didn’t seem to mind, and she assumed that they must’ve been up all night.

“The pleasure is all mine. I am glad to see you under these circumstances, and I know that we will all be relieved when you are no longer under threat. Come, I’ve taken over monitoring the comms from my office. Thire was summoned by the Chancellor.” He waved her over and she followed him into a small room not unlike Fox’s. She took a seat in the chair opposite Stone and turned her attention to the computer terminal that sat against the wall. The program running on the screen was displaying the name and vital signs of each man next to the soundwaves coming from each comm on the channel. She found Fox, or CC-1010, with ease.

“This is Bravo, kitchen is clear.”

“Fox, living spaces clear.”

A crash came through Scout’s comm and his rectangle lit up. “Target located: second level, first room left. Assistance required.”

“Coming, Scout. Hang in there.”

Riyo watched in mild fascination as the terminal lit up with sound of their footfalls as the other troopers ran to assist.

“This is Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard, Lor Hano you are under arrest for treachery against the Republic and the sedition of violence against a Republic Senator.” There was a click of handcuffs and Riyo couldn’t stop a smile from spreading across her face. “Scout, search the bedroom. Kilo, the office. The rest of you, pick a room and report to me when finished.”

The six soundwaves all synched up into footsteps and some vital signs fell back to resting levels as the adrenaline rush faded. She watched Fox’s soundwave blinking twice with the sound of both his and Hano’s footfalls. Then all the lights blinked and vanished.

“Stone?” She turned to see Stone pulling up his own comm.

“Kilo? Kilo can you hear me? Bravo, are you there? Repeat, Bravo, are you there? Fox?”

“Commander Stone!” Jek ran in, looking like he’d just woken up. He probably had. “Commander, there’s been an explosion. Ten south two east. Fire suppression team is engaging.”

“Suspected cause?”

“Hotwired thermal detonators to destroy evidence, sir. It came from the home of a Trade Federation officer we’ve been watching.” Riyo decided that he’d definitely just woken up or had just arrived at the office. She hadn’t seen him in the initial scan of the room. Then she realized what he was saying and she reached up to cover her mouth, stifling the cry rising in her throat.

“I’m going on-site. Stay here with Senator Chuchi.” Stone grabbed his helmet and blew past them, slamming the door behind him. Jek moved to take the commander’s seat across from her. He took in her expression.

“Fox is there, isn’t he?”

She nodded.

Jek reached across the desk to set a hand on Riyo’s shoulder. “I’m sure they’ll be alright, Senator. Unless he’s the one that triggered the blast, he’ll be okay. We’ve all been caught in these situations before. He’ll be pretty bruised up, but he’ll be okay.” He watched her expression for a minute before he spoke again, his voice barely a whisper. “You love him, don’t you?”

“I don’t know. Maybe? I think so.” She hiccupped. Jek rose and walked over to her side. He stood behind her and began rubbing her back as she tried to steady her breathing to match his. Once she had settled down, Jek disappeared for a moment and reappeared with a pile of face tissue, which she gladly accepted. They sat in silence afterwards; across the desk from one another with Riyo squeezing Jek’s hand. If it hurt, he didn’t say anything.

“Senator?” The door to Stone’s office slide open to reveal Commander Thire, fully armored and helmeted.

“Is he-?” She fell silent as Thire raised his hand in a ‘stop’ motion.

“They’re all fine. Hano manually set off the detonators. None of our men were incapacitated. It appears that you are free to resume your routine without the protection of the Coruscant Guard.” She wished that he’d taken off his helmet so that she could read his expression. Maybe it was as blank as his voice.

“Thank you, Commander Thire, for all you and the Guard have done for me.” She rose and extended her hand. After a moment’s hesitation, he took it and gave her the most formal handshake she had ever had, and as a senator she was accustomed to them.

“It’s our duty, Senator Chuchi.”

“You didn’t come here to tell the Senator that she’s free to go, did you, sir?” Jek asked. He looked puzzled, and Riyo wondered if her gut feeling about the commander acting strangely formal was shared by Jek.

“The Chancellor requests your presence, Senator. I am to escort you to his office. Jek, go get some rest.” His voice softened when addressing his brother. Jek looked like he was about to argue, then thought better of it.

She followed Thire out of the office and into the halls of the Senate. It was still empty. She took advantage of the stillness to take a long look at the clone beside her without worry of bumping into another senator or representative. At first glance he seemed fine, but on closer inspection she noticed the slight shaking in his legs and how his fingers twitched.

“Commander, are you okay?” He didn’t respond, keeping his gaze forward. “Thire?” She prodded.

“Lor Hano is dead. He was standing under the detonator when it went off.” He didn’t turn to face her as he spoke.

“But you said that he’s the one that set it off, why wouldn’t he detonate it after he was out of the building?” She couldn’t read his body language; she could always read the clone’s body language.

“I don’t know. Fox is fine.”

“Wasn’t Commander Fox escorting Hano when the explosion went off?”

Thire’s head cocked slightly towards her. “Yes, I suppose he was thrown clear of the debris.” He spoke like he was trying to remember a dream. Riyo was close to tearing the helmet off his head when they arrived at the door to the Chancellor’s office. The two Red Guardsmen at the doors let them in, and she followed Thire to the room with the Chancellor’s desk.

“Senator Chuchi, it is a pleasure to see you.” The Chancellor swept over to greet her.

“Supreme Chancellor, the pleasure is all mine.” She took his outstretched hands and he gave them a reassuring squeeze as he escorted her to one of the lovely couches that circled his desk. She looked back to see Thire standing at attention in the doorway. When she turned back, she noticed the line of red and white standing at parade rest on her left. Each guardsman was covered in a layer of fine dust, some were stained with ash, but all of them stood completely still. She could’ve believed they were statues if it wasn’t for the subtle rise and fall of their shoulders. Fox was the furthest from her and her heart leapt at the sight.

“It is a pity that Lor Hano will not be brought to justice. However, I’m sure that a great burden has been lifted from your shoulders, Senator.” The Chancellor said as he seated himself opposite her.

“Actually, Your Excellency, the burden was lifted earlier this week by the presence of the Coruscant Guard. You should be very proud of their commitment to duty.”

“Oh, I am, Senator. I was just commending Commander Fox on his actions. I couldn’t ask for a more loyal commanding officer. He has never let me down.” Palpatine smiled fondly at the guardsmen, and Riyo felt a little more at ease. “If you will excuse me, Senator, I’m afraid that I must be going. It appears that I am needed elsewhere at this moment.”

“Of course, Your Excellency.” She bowed her head as he rose and took his leave from the room, Thire following close behind.

“Relax. You’re dismissed.” Fox said, at least, it must’ve been Fox. She turned back to the line of clones to see them come back to life. A few terse nods were given to her as the five men left the room, leaving her with Commander Fox. He raised his head slightly in her direction, and she took that as the sign for her to make the next move.

“Commander, would you mind escorting me to my office?”

“Of course not, Senator.” He said, moving to her side. They didn’t speak again until they were out of sight from the Red Guards at the Chancellor’s door.

“Are you okay?” She asked once they were away from all ears.

“A bit bruised, potentially concussed. I think I was thrown clear of the worst of the blast.”

“You think?”

“I don’t remember. I was at the foot of the stairs then Stone was pulling me out of the rubble.” He looked down to see the worry on her face. “It’s just a concussion, Riyo. We clones recover from them much faster than humans thanks to the Kaminii. I did lose my blaster though. Must’ve been knocked right out of the holster.”

Having arrived at Riyo’s office, she ushered Fox in before her, making sure that the door locked behind them. By the time she turned around, Fox had taken off his helmet and lain it on her desk, where he at perched on the edge looking over her.

“We never finished our conversation earlier.” She said, moving across the room to him.

“What a pity I can’t remember that conversation, I must’ve taken a harder hit to the head than I initially thought.” He smirked at her worried look that quickly hardened into frustrated amusement.

“You were talking about being born to die, I believe.” She raised her hand to his face, freezing midair as she took in the tiny cuts around the top of his blacks from the debris.

“Oh, yes. I don’t think I want to die. But I can’t remember the reason.” He took her hand from the air and brought it into his lap, where he held between his gloved palms.

“Is your reason a woman, perhaps?” She ventured. Two could play this game.

“Come to think of it, yes. I think I may have accidentally caught feelings for her when she was giving me the full-body pat down. Not to mention ordering me around like a shiny.”

“Are you a shiny, Commander Fox?”

“In love, very much so.” He cringed slightly after the words left his mouth, eliciting an amused smile from her. He stood up and took her face in his hands, tracing over the green arcs with his thumbs. “May I?”

She nodded fervently, forgetting how to speak. She tilted her head back as he leaned down, closing her eyes when she felt his lips begin to brush against hers. The kiss was softer than she had thought to be possible. His fingers traced over her cheeks as he moved his lips against hers, the motions restrained and calm. Her arms wrapped around his hips and pulled his body to hers. It felt so good to hold him. He pulled away all too soon. She ran her tongue around the inside of her lips after they had parted, tasting the remains of smoke and shattered drywall from the explosion that he had left on her.

“Damn.” She whispered, locking her hands behind his hips, refusing to let him pull back all the way. “I’m going to need you to do that again.”

“I’m at your service, Senator Chuchi.” He said, leaning down and finding her lips again. She fought back the urge to pull him in harder as she relaxed against him, parting her lips and letting him push deeper into her, imagining the same gentle kisses in a very different scene.

“Titles will only take us to a dark place, Commander Fox.” She purred into his mouth as he pressed his forehead to hers to take a shuddering breath.

Fox didn’t respond. He pulled her back against the desk, seating himself on the wood and pulling her onto his lap after him, wrapping his arms around her waist. He bent down and began to press the same soft kisses against her neck. She let out a deep sigh and wrapped her arms around him, running one hand through his hair. Still gentle, she was certain that he wouldn’t leave a mark. She considered asking him to bite her, or suck against the soft skin of her neck, but decided that was best saved for another occasion with another wardrobe. She couldn’t be walking around the Senate with bite marks and bruises on her neck. Someone would notice. One day, she’d dress in a high-collared shirt and let him mark her.

“I should be the one kissing you.” She sighed.

“No.” She could feel his lips move across her skin as he spoke. “You did enough last night. It’s my turn now.” He planted his lips in the crook of her neck and pulled her tighter against him. She let out a quiet moan, trying to consider where they were. She wondered how far they could get before it became too much or they were interrupted.

It turned out to be the latter, as she was startled a few seconds later by a hard knock on the door. She pressed against Fox’s shoulders, separating him from her skin.

“One moment, please.” She called.

“Senator Chuchi, your presence is requested in the Cantham House.” Said the person outside the door.

“Tell Senator Organa that I will be there shortly.” She called back. Once the footsteps had faded, she turned back to her companion. “Fox, I-.”

“Duty calls, Riyo.” He planted one quick kiss against her lips and helped her off the desk. “I understand. But we’re finishing this later.”

“My place? As soon as you can get away.” She begged.

“I’ll be there.” He promised.

---

“Where do you think you’re going?” Stone looked over the datapad he was holding to Fox’s bed, where he sat pulling on running shoes that he’d stolen long ago from undercover ops.

“I’m going out for a run.” Fox said, gesturing to the shoes.

“Are you sure that you’re not sneaking out to go back to your office?” Stone scoffed. “Thire, tell Fox he’s crazy.”

“Fox.” Fox paused to look across the room at Thire, who had been trying to sleep. "When you stand up, will you pass me the, uh, kriff, I can’t think straight.”

“Yeah, I can.” Fox tightened the shoe then walked over to the small sink the commanders shared. He filled up a nearby glass with water and grabbed the bottle on the shelf labeled ‘headache’ in bright red.

“Thank you, Fox.” Said Thire as he took the offered objects.

“I think you’re allergic to the Chancellor, Thire.” Stone teased. “You get a headache every time he calls on you.”

“The Chancellor is actually a telepathic Umbaran and he’s controlling you.” Fox shook his finger at Thire in mock agreement with Stone.

“The Chancellor is a wonderful man, you two are just old and calloused.” Thire groaned.

“He’s controlling everything, even now, he moves to destroy the Republic.” Fox shook his head at Thire as he walked backward towards the door.

“I will arrest you for treason, Fox. Go to work already.” Stone was close enough to give Fox a final shove out of the door.

There was nobody in the barracks halls to question Fox. Not that they would, he was their commanding officer and it was well known that he liked to masquerade as a civilian jogger. The light jacket he wore, also stolen from undercover ops, covered up the Republic symbol on his blacks. Of course they had a gym in the barracks, but Fox preferred the feeling of the city air on his face rather than the stale air of the track. In the past, he’d often ended his run at the Senate building, sleeping the rest of the night in his office. But now, this presented him with the perfect opportunity to meet Riyo.

She met him in the speeder lot of her apartment complex. He’d pulled the hood down as he approached and enjoyed watching the look on her face change from apprehension to joy as she ran to his arms. Her hair was down, and he ran his fingers through it as he held her to his chest.

“You scared me, Fox.” She laughed.

“Sorry, I thought this was more subtle.” He rested his head on the top of hers. Her hair smelled amazing, and he wished that he could’ve named the scent or even begun to describe it.

“Come.” She pulled back and grabbed his hand, leading him to her apartment. “How did you get away?” She asked as she turned to lock the door.

“The boys think I’m sleeping at the office.”

“Well then, let’s keep it that way.” She turned back to him and unzipped the running jacket, slipping it off his shoulders and hanging it on a waiting hook. He gasped a little as she placed her hands on his chest and she drew back quickly.

“It’s okay, it’s okay. Just a bruise. You gotta go easy on me tonight.” He pulled her back in, minding the ache across his body. “It’ll be much easier once we get the blacks off and you can see them.”

She laughed, reaching up to brush a loose strand of hair away from his face. “Is that really your best bedroom talk, Commander?”

“Probably.” He chuckled as he looked down at her. She was beautiful, and she was his. “I thought you said that titles would take us to a dark place?”

“Yes, but I plan on kissing every bruise on your body tonight.” She brought her hand down from his brow to rest it under his jaw, stroking his cheeks as he had stroked hers.

“Mm. That does sound nice.” He closed his eyes and leaned into the gesture, letting all of the day’s tension drain out of him. The apprehension of last night was gone, replaced by hard resolve. He had sworn an oath- a decision that he had had no control over- to the Republic, to protect the Republic, to die for the Republic. And he would keep that oath, loyal to his last breath. Because the Republic wasn’t the Chancellor or the Senate building, it was the people. Riyo was the Republic, and he would ruin himself a million times for her.

[superlinguo]

Linguistics Jobs: Interview with an Exhibition Content Manager

I was first introduced to Emily Gref, this month’s linguist, in a Linguistics Job Interview she did for All Things Linguistic back in 2015 when she worked as a literary agent. Emily did her MA at SOAS while I was working there, and has gone on to use her skills to support minority language publishing, help us set up transcripts for Lingthusiasm, and, in her current role, participate in the development of Planet Word as their Exhibition Content Manager.  

Planet Word is a language museum, opening in Washington D.C. on May 31, 2020.

What did you study at university?

I received my BA from McGill University with a major in Linguistics and a minor in Anthropology. My focus was pretty theoretical at the time — my honours thesis was on morpho-syntax in Austronesian languages — but one of my favorite courses was field linguistics. I definitely wanted to go to SOAS, University of London, or the University of Hawai'i and learn how to document languages after that course. I ultimately decided I didn't want to stay in academia, though, so after graduating I took a detour and spent several years in book publishing. But I missed linguistics too much! So in 2015 I went for my MA in Language Documentation and Description at SOAS. There my focus was primarily on language revitalization (though I also dipped a toe into some other schools of syntax, because I love it), and my dissertation was about what kinds of books are being published in Indigenous languages of North America and how and why. It was a way to combine my love of linguistics and books with my expertise in publishing. (I've also helped to publish some books in minority languages.)

What is your job?

My official title is Exhibition Content Manager at Planet Word, a new museum about words and language in Washington, D.C. Pretty much anything and everything to do with the exhibits and all the content within them falls under my list of responsibilities! That means 10 main exhibits, and 17 auxiliary exhibits, all about everything from child language acquisition to the history of the English language to language diversity around the world to literature to songwriting and everything in between. Practically, what that means is I do a lot of liaising with our exhibit designers and media producers and our founder to make sure the material we're presenting at the museum is accurate, engaging, and accessible to the general public, especially our core audience of 10- to 12-year-olds. A lot of that is project management stuff (keeping track of licensed assets, streamlining approvals on deliverables, managing outside contractors and consultants, and updating many, many spreadsheets) but I also do a lot of fact-checking, copy editing, and some research and scripting as well, particularly for the linguistic diversity gallery (my personal favorite). How does your linguistics training help you in your job?

Although all of my colleagues share of love of words and language (as you would expect), most of them are more from the museum world than the linguistics world. And although most of our main experiences aren't linguistics-heavy (we're a language arts museum rather than a linguistics museum), I'm the one that takes the first pass at content to ensure that it's correct and uses the most up-to-date research. So I've had to draw heavily on my general linguistics knowledge — Planet Word is incredibly privileged to have an advisory board full of amazing linguists, but I'm sort of the "resident" linguistics expert!

Because the museum is for a young, general audience, it's been really fun to try and get back to a beginner's mind — thinking about the things that most excited me about learning linguistics, or even learning about other languages, or weird facts about English. This has really informed some of the experiences we've created, and it's pretty gratifying to test them out on non-linguists and see them get excited and interested. (Although I will fully admit that I have advocated for some... esoteric aspects of language that nobody but me was excited about. They did not make the cut, and it's for the better, but hopefully some visitors will be inspired and find out more about linguistics for themselves!)

On a more granular level, having the research skills honed by two degrees in linguistics has been invaluable, as well as the data management skills I acquired mostly during my MA. (Hello, database of 2,000+ books.) Knowing about phonetics is also pretty handy when you're trying to coach a voice actor (most of our experiences are auditory and interactive) on how to pronounce non-English words! I have also spent an incredible amount of time with the OED and Etymonline, looking up etymologies for various exhibit-related reasons.

Do you have any advice do you wish someone had given to you about linguistics/careers/university?

Linguistics is such a funny field. I don't think there are a lot of people who end up in it by accident, or just because they've always loved that subject in high school, so they might as well continue it in college/university. Really, you discover by happenstance that it exists and then you fall for it hard. But that means there's almost a sort of assumption that if you're going to Do Linguistics, you're going to be an academic for the long haul. That doesn't necessarily have to be the case. That's why resources like this interview series are so great, but I do wish there was more support within degree programs for connecting linguistics people with jobs that aren't necessarily academia, or computational linguistics, or speech pathology. This is not really advice, sorry! But if I were going to turn it into advice, I'd say: ask early and often what graduates from your program have gone on to do that aren't "traditional" linguist jobs. Any other thoughts or comments?

If I could help open language museums for the rest of my life, I absolutely would. This has been a dream job, and I'm so very lucky. Unfortunately it's a bit of niche field, but I have learned so much by leveraging my linguistics knowledge and skills into a job that opens up many more opportunities.

Recently:

Interview with a Community Outreach Coordinator

Interview with a Marketing Content Specialist

Interview with a Software Engineer

Interview with a Product Manager

Interview with a Communications Specialist

Check out the Linguist Jobs Master List and the Linguist Jobs tag for even more interviews  

[ih8paris]

i hate paris

Do people still use tumblr? I’m so old. And I never used it. I don’t keep up with the times. I don’t give a shit. You know what? It all passes. Except facebook. They made a deal with the devil and really, was it worth it? I use facebook. I live in Paris and there are these groups for women, expats, cheap people like me that want free yoga. That’s what I use it for. And news. BBC CNN ABC NBC MSNBC, you get it and the posts. They report what the people supposedly want, but then we can see what the people are actually saying. Donald Trump won’t win? Look at voices talking? Look at the little people. It looked like he was going to win. What do you know, he did. But what if he had lost. What if Hilary didn’t get a handle on COVID and then Donald won in 2020? We would all be so fucked right now. Maybe we already are. Anyway, I’m not here to talk politics. I’m here to process my life choices and see if there were signs that I was making HUGE mistake. 

So here’s the thing. I’m a bit untraditional. Growing up was shit. Chuck left and made sure to shit all over everything before he did. And the whole get married in your 20′s have babies get divorced get remarried have more kids bc hey you’re not old at 30 and this is the guy you actually wanted to have kids with. I rant but you get it. Traditional not for me. Also not traditional, i have some money. This money has paid for college, pastry school and yes this wonderful covid filled experience in paris: the city that hates me. I’m fortunate. I don’t live lavishly. It’s not that much money. I grew up poor, I pinch pennies. Then i do exciting things. Or maybe challenging things? I am fortunate and grateful. And guilt filled. I am given this gift and shit it away, trying make something out of this paris experience. It’s like a bad relationship where i keep begging to give it one more change. It will get better. I’m a fucking idiot. So here I am, you know third times the charm, right? Back in paris. Vaccinated. I’ve made connections with people. I feel confident that this will not be a waste. It will be fun. It will be educational. I will network. Gain experiences. Omg learn so much. Be able to travel. OH the hopes and delusions i had. But maybe we should start from the beginning. 

Omg, which beginning. Paris, i guess, we can go back further when the moment calls. So 30 is approaching. I’ve moved back home. That’s story for another time. Remember my life is not traditional. So I’m home to help out and idk try to figure out what the fuck i want to do with my life. See the big mistake i made in my 20s was listening to people i don’t admire. i graduate with an art degree. my college exit interview said i am qualified to work at a bank or Kraft foods. no connects, recommendations. No direct. And my family keeps talking about getting a job, benefits, 401k. At one point a little later on, my grandpa was pushing for me to go into service. Sorry gramps, they don’t want me. My education was good. I learned a lot. They had good resources and a lot. But then nothings. So i worked at a bakery. I worked hard at this bakery. For more than a few months i worked 7 days a week. I didn’t have a life. i had money. Money i made. And apparently that was the most important thing, from the talks i keep getting from my family. And of course i wasn’t earning enough, so needed to work harder and climb the ladder. There is no ladder in a bakery. Whatever, I rant again. We’ll come back to this. 

So 30. It’s looming. I’ve thought about grad school. The money I mentioned earlier. It’s had time to grow. The GRE expires after 5 years, not that i took it but 7 years after I graduated, i wasn’t taking it. So Europe. Europe is artsy. I would like to make good money, enjoy the work okay, but mostly make good money with the least amount of actual work. So teaching. My mom teaches. Computer programing. She’s the head of the department. She fucking hates it. The dude that was suppose to get that job, he died. It was sad. But they also didn’t replace him so when the other guy retired, it became her job. It was an unpleasant 10ish years. But again, I digress. So teaching. Work hard and play hard. And it’s always changing - ish. I guess as much as you want, or don’t. New students every 15 weeks. breaks at all the holidays. Summers off. And when you’re just about to get bored, you’re back at work. Maybe because this is the only lifestyle i know, but it doesn’t sound bad. I worked in an office of women in high school. That i for sure knew i never wanted. But teaching. College. Okay. I need a masters. Learn about MA and MFA. Start looking for jobs in Cali because life’s too short to fucking deal with the snow and mosquitos. Idk everyone doesn’t live in Cali. So now the plan is MFA. They are much more rare and more in demand at universities. More money - but this time i think chasing the money necessary bc Calif = expensive. Now back to looking in Europe. I love Italy. I would love to live in in Italy for more that just a semester but actually live Italian or close to it. The language makes sense. The people make sense. The art makes sense. And it’s omg gorgeous. Alas, no American accredited MFA programs I could qualify for in Italy. I don’t know if there were none but if there were, they would have been in textiles, or digital/graphic design. Which I don’t know anything about. I’m old school, metal work, drawing, printmaking - although so far we haven’t gotten along, another thing i going to try to make work before i leave this city that hates me, for good - painting, ceramics, you get it. I hate computers. I appreciate technology but my mom teaches computers therefore there was never a working computer in my house so we (my brothers and me) don’t do computers. So i find this school - in english and in Paris. Paris, so glamorous. Home of famous artists and their art. The Louvre and Eiffel Tower and Fashion. So okay, i check out their programs. One i have no fucking clue what it is. Still don’t. Another is Photography - pass. Graphics - no. List continues. Then i see Drawing. That’s interesting. I can draw, i draw well. This is a program i could probably get into. SERVICE ANNOUNCEMENT: you can get into any program. No program is ever full. It’s bull shit. Masters program. Undergrad = everyone is applying at the same time. Masters = ages range and much fewer people go. So don’t fall for that shit - EVER. 

They have a one year and two year program. The second year is less than half the first year so makes sense to go the second year and get the MFA vs MA. So that works out. I’m reading and checking it out. Not sure what I’m looking for but in hindsight, i knew something was missing. Talk it over with my mom and her peers who are also teachers. Consensus - don’t be part of the first group. So i have an interview to get it - what a joke. It is also a time for me to learn more about the program. So i ask, is this new? How long has it been around. Answer: Oh no, it’s been working several years. Very confident. I didn’t have a follow-up, just said I don’t want to be in the first group. I said those words. Her response: Oh no no don’t worry. I was so naive. And yes this continued through the whole program. People’s personalities are what they are. So she lied to get me into the program and just kept lying. No respect for the insane about of money i was paying for this ‘experience’. No respect for the education i could have gotten somewhere else. Because this program had NO educational value. I’m not being bitter or dramatic. It was a complete waste of time and money. Then covid happened. Might have been a blessing in disguise. I can go into detail of the program later. This is just an overview of the beginning. 

So, I get accepted. What a surprise. I’m now officially 30 and this - i feel- is my last hoorah. After this i will be an adult who can get an adult job and become an adult. But first i need housing. And a visa. Which is very confusing. So the French and Italians - Italians I am familiar  with, tell you about it later. So they’re similar in that lazy, lack of thoroughness, that’s their thing. Difference being Italians own it, French hardcore deny. So I’m reading this paperwork and it says thing like you need to have all your documents before your visa appointment including plane ticket. Well I can’t go without the visa so why would i get a plane ticket? Cart before the horse shit - it’s very french, wait until you hear about banks.