#which i think is why there's been this sort of propulsive instinct to

[fideidefenswhore]

Yet, even Chapuys, who gives us this information, says earlier in the same letter that ‘there had been… talk of a new marriage for this king… which rumour agrees well with my own news from the court of France, where, according to letters [I have] received, courtiers maintain that this king has actually applied for the hand of Francis’ daughter’. Chapuys himself therefore does not connect up the rumours of a ‘new marriage�� with Jane Seymour. In early April, Jane was still little more than a lady whom the king was pursuing. At best, in accordance with the conventions of courtly love, she was the lady whom ‘he serves’ – a telling phrase. At worst, she was a passing fancy, whom Henry may have hoped to make his mistress. Chapuys certainly didn’t think much of Henry’s choice. He described Jane the day before Anne’s execution as ‘no great beauty’ and ‘not a woman of great wit’; he implied that she was unlikely to be a virgin, and reported that people said she was inclined ‘to be proud and haughty’. Yet, by this point, the world had changed, and with it, Henry’s intentions towards Jane. It is highly improbable that before Anne was considered guilty of adultery, Henry had seriously begun to plan to make Jane his wife.

1536: The Year that Changed Henry VIII, Suzannah Lipscomb

"I hear that, even before the arrest of the Concubine, the King, speaking with Mistress Jane Semel of their future marriage [...]"

[thekillerssluts]

Will Butler: “I am very American and that is my thing I have to deal with“

In times like these, where some of us are reflecting on what the future will bring and what role we can play to make it more bearable, Will Butler uses his new solo record “Generations” to ask profound questions in a very intense and compelling way.

As a member of the renowned Indie Rock Band Arcade Fire his fans quite often perceive the multitalented musician as an entertainer who likes goofing around with his bandmates and who gets carried away on all kinds of escapades on his instruments. Nevertheless, there is a very serious person behind that facade who is deeply involved in community work with a strong political opinion. Not only a Master’s Degree from Harvard in public policy can prove that, but also his engagement in countless events with political focus.

It was a special honor to chat with Will Butler about his new solo record “Generations”. An album which sounds quite joyous at first glance but has a lot to offer when you listen closely. We talked about how the Covid crisis affected his work and life, how he deals with the political situation in the US and how it is for him as a live enthusiast to not be able to perform his new record on stage:

Great to have you back with us! Last time you talked to my colleague Gabi about your first solo album “Policy”. That was quite a while ago.  

Oh yes, many years ago. Five years and a lot changed since then.

How is life treating you, how is the whole Covid crisis treating you?

It’s been weird six month. This summer I am in New York. The summer felt pretty good, it seems we are through the worst and people were out and about and going back to living their lives. Now fall comes and we will see what happens.

How does it feel to release an album in those times? We interviewed artists with quite opposite opinions. Some say people can´t focus on music at the moment as they are distracted with more important things while others say it’s especially important now to have the distraction of music. Which side are you on?

What I have been seeing is that people are very grateful for music that has come out, both a as a distraction but also as a spiritual nourishment, like some sort of comfort. Music sometimes works like food, where it comforts you and make you ready for the fight ahead. That side to me is quite beautiful.

Honestly, I was very thankful that you released that album. For me music is exactly what you just described, it gives me comfort and positiveness. It often helps to escape reality, although I have to say that your album “Generations” pushes you right into reality.

(laughing) Oops.

I have the feeling it´s not an album for pure distraction, it´s music you have to dive deep into and confront.

Yes, it definitely has an urgency to it. It is contiguous with the last four or five years which have been very intense, especially in the US but all around the world. So, it´s definitely coming from the same soil as this mad year.

I think you already started working on the album before the whole lockdown happened?

I finished recording the album on March 9, I thought that was the perfect time, so it was marked in my calendar. It happened that just a few days later New York shut down and went into complete lockdown. Mixing then took probably the next six weeks; half the record was mixed in Montreal. And suddenly we had to deal with a lot of things like schools closing, people had to figure out helping their parents and how to get help for other people. It was suddenly chaos and a terrifying time. That itself was complicated even though only the mixing was left to do.

Interestingly enough the record sounds as if it was written with all the things happening already in your head. It fits so much with the times.

Yes, I kept checking in with the record and I thought yes, it’s still the same world. So much  has come out of the police crisis, the refugee crisis happening at the same time, which is still ongoing. These where part of the impetus for the world we are in right now. The pandemic is particularly strange and not what I was imagining. It just adds to the weirdness that was already there.

I saw you live several times with your band Arcade Fire and also solo. You seem to be such a live person. The new songs sound to me like they’re made for being performed live. How do you feel about not being able to play them now?

I am really sad to not be touring this fall. I planned on touring the US before the election in September and October. I wanted to do political town halls where I can have local politicians and invite activists to talk about shit. Now I´m very sad to not be able to do that. It´s such a crazy time and I want to be useful, useful in a sense of being able to talk to people in different cities about important stuff. It´s hard to not have that toolbox. Also, the songs were very much written live. I booked shows before we went into the studio and we were trying to figure out how to play the songs live.

That sounds tough, so it´s even more devastating not being able to do it. What do you do now to raise your voice?

It´s hard. I´m not that good at the internet. I do some stuff online but this is not my natural medium. So what I’m doing is I´m talking to friends, my wife and I are also very active in our community. I think it´s very important to have that intimate connection to friends and family and talk to them.

Listening to your lyrics you seem to have a lot of questions but no answers. I think none of us do, but it makes exchange of thoughts even more important to make sure the head is not exploding.

Yes exactly. For me music is a force that is moving forward, by its nature it is a creative act. To me there is hope in the music and hope in the drums that are a bit of a propulsion. But there is not a lot of hope or knowledge in the head. I think that is a bit true for all of us these days. Our heads are completely toasted. Nevertheless, there is still hope in our friendships, there is still hope in our neighborhoods, there is still hope in our families.

It´s great that you talk about hope. That would have been actually my last question, what gives you hope? I think we all need something positive to not go totally mental.

Yes, very much though and you have to be grateful to see a lot of people around you being safe and remind yourself that you are not alone. Follow the ones who have a good common sense and surround yourself with the good ones out there.

What I learned is also being thankful for the little things and everything we took for granted for a long time. I, for example, took concerts for granted. I could never imagine that there is a world without live music. When I see videos from gigs it feels like another life.

You are so right. I could also never envision that this is going to happen and now I´m like what? It´s genuinely deeply confusing. It is going to echo in our lives for a very long time how strange this year was.

Talking about how important friends and family are – you have recorded “Generations” with the same solo band as “Policy”. Do you need that intimacy of knowing the people well you work with?

Yes, my actual touring band consisted of my wife’s sister Julie, my wife contributed a lot to the record – she is a great musician, and Sara Dobbs who is a friend and was our neighbor in New York. My drummer Miles is also part of it. There is a lot there, we’ve been playing together for five years now. There is a lot of instinct and call and response, that’s hard to manufacture. That´s how it works; you always work with the people you are familiar with.

You come from a very musical family with your grandfather Alvino Rey being a musician, your mom playing the harp, you and your brother in the same band. Is the title “Generations” referring to that legacy?

Yes, very much so. My mom’s grandfather was the last son of a Mormon pioneer from across the American west. He decided to be a musician and he encouraged his children to be musicians. My grandmother, who grew up in a family band, married the grand Alvino, they had kids who were all musicians, so there is a beautiful heritage that stretches back and such a deep privilege to have. But there are also very horrifying things you inherit, every country and every people inherit their different stretch of horrors, as part of why they are where they are. In America it is particularly situated around race and gender. I think we are starting to unpack those burdens as a country but this will take a couple of generations.

Tackling those inherited problems will be even harder if Trump will be elected again.

(sighs) That’s going to be really dark. I can´t predict anything anymore, my capacity for prediction is just gone but if it happens it will be really bad.

So now we are back at all the questions you have in your songs about the past, the future and where we are.

You are exactly right!

You have lived in Canada for quite some time. Do you sometimes wish you have stayed there?

No, never to be honest. I love Montreal, it´s one of the greatest cities in the world and I have friends and family there. I am very American and that is my thing I have to deal with – these are my problems, I´m a citizen here – let´s try to fix it to the extent we can.

Do you see the future differently since you became a father? You have always been a very political person but did something change since you have a family?

Having kids didn´t really change my vision of the past or future in a particular way. It´s not like now I make sure my kids have a better world but I feel like I have learned a lot about humanity, about nature and nurture and where humans come from and particular reasons why they are cruel and why they are kind and something about fundamental things like human love. I learned a lot about all those things in the past years. I feel a great responsibility – not so much to make a better world for them but to make sure that they´ve got their shit together as much as I can.

Unfortunately, we are running out of time. I could go on with you forever. I wish you all the best for the record. I really appreciate that you put some good music out, although it is something you have to get your head around and digest while swaying to the joyful tunes.

Thank you. This is something very meaningful. Thank you for letting me know.

I have to be honest I also need a deeper thought about your video for “Bethlehem” which you just have released.

I´m thinking in metaphors my whole life, so I was like let´s just cook our way through this one. Let´s just cook some of our anger and fear into a big meal.

To me at first glance it looked like a big feast inspired by Klu Klux Klan in a way. Watching it once I was not quite sure what feelings to have about the scenery; if it’s something positive or negative.

Oh wow, I was not intending that but that is not the worst vision of it. It was part of the goal to create something beautiful but also horrifying. It´s a horror film kind of comedy. It should be contradictory, so you are absolutely right with your feelings.  

So again, good luck for the record and let´s hope that we can get all back together again at a concert and celebrate and sing and shout together and enjoy the moment.

Thank you. Thank you so much. And yes let´s hope so (sighs). Fingers crossed on that one.

https://fastforward-magazine.de/will-butler-i-am-very-american-and-that-is-my-thing-i-have-to-deal-with/

[multi-fandom-oneshots]

Fear and Loathing: Part 5 (Steve Rogers x OC)

A/N: Finally a part 5! I know I took forever. Sorry if it’s a little rough. Also I know it’s a bit of a filler chapter but I promise the good stuff is coming, we just gotta set it all up! Okay, I’m gonna shut up now but there will be a few more notes at the end. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Eventual Steve x OC

(read part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 6)

---

Steve heard her walking behind him, although his instincts told him that it was intentional. She reminded him so much of Bucky—no, of the Winter Solider that it scared him. But it also gave him some hope. From what Steve had heard of Mercy’s backstory, she and Bucky had similar experiences, and if she really was like Bucky, she’d think she’d have to fight in this battle, she’d think she didn’t have a choice. And Steve wouldn’t let her think she didn’t have a choice, with The Avengers, with him, there was always a choice.

When they reached an empty break room Steve gestured for her to step inside. She stopped and stiffened and Steve mentally kicked himself. She didn’t want to expose her six, made sense, he should’ve known better. He grimaced at his error and walked in. He made sure to take the seat farthest away from the door, trying to convey through his placement and body language that she was in no way trapped, that she didn’t have to be on edge.

“You don’t have to come with us.” Steve spoke, not really knowing how to start the conversation.

She stood, back to the wall positioned so close to the exit and far away from Steve. “Excuse me, Captain?”

She crossed her arms in confusion.

“You just teamed up with us not too long ago, you’re not obligated to assist us in a mission of this caliber so soon.”

“Do you not think I can handle myself?” She frowned thinking that he doubted her skill.

“I know without a doubt that you can handle yourself. What I’m trying to say is that you don’t have to fight if you don’t want to. You have a choice. I don’t want you feeling like you’ve traded one regime for another.”

Mercy’s frown deepened even more. A choice? He was telling her she didn’t have to fight? That his orders didn’t have to be followed. Her brain didn’t know how to compute this. She was a soldier, a soldier followed orders without thought, without question.

“The only thing I ask, Mercy, is that if you are to fight with us, that you’re really with us, all of us.” Steve spoke, and then with a sigh, he left the room leaving her to mull over what he had just said.

A choice. The word echoed over and over in her head. Choice. She hadn’t been given a choice in decades. She was a weapon, a tool. She had one purpose, to fight. She used to serve The Ten, now to right her wrongs she served The Avengers. But now her leader had told her that she had a choice, to fight or to do nothing.

The words of the android came back to her then, ‘extinction’. Whatever Ultron had planned Mercy knew that she had to help stop him, to end him.

—

When she rejoined the others Hill was at the head of the table, holographic screens haloed around her.

“He’s all over the globe. Robotics labs, weapons facilities, jet propulsion labs. Reports of a metal man, or men, coming in and emptying the place.”

“Any fatalities?” Bruce questioned.

“Only when engaged.” Nat replied as she flipped the page of the file in front of her.

Hill nodded. “Mostly guys left in a fugue state going on about old memories, worst fears, and “something too fast to see.”

“The Maximoffs.” Steve spoke. Mercy noticed the twinge of sadness in his voice. “That makes sense that he’d go to them, they have someone in common.”

Mercy noticed the glare he shot Stark although the man himself had not. She was just about to ask what Steve (she was going to mull over what had changed in her that made her comfortable calling him by his name later) had meant and who these Maximoffs were when she heard muffled sounds in the hallway.

She closed her eyes, blocking out one sense to help boost another. Her brow furrowed as she listened. It was Barton, he had to be on the phone because she heard only his side of the conversation.

              “That’s a negative, I answer to you. Yes, ma’am. Understood.”

She strained to hear more but Barton must’ve ended the call. Moments later he walked in, patting her on the back as he hurried past her to sit down at the table. Mercy looked around, curious to see if anyone else had overheard but they were all to focused on the conversation at hand.

She shook her head, hoping that the action would help clear the jumbled thoughts that were starting to cloud her mind. There were too many variables going on to make her comfortable. She was tense, jumpy. She needed things to get going, for someone to tell her where to go and what to do. She needed orders.

Tony’s voice brought her back to the present. “Ultron killed Strucker. And he did a Banksy at the crime scene, just for us.”

“This is a smoke screen. Why send a message when you’ve just given a speech?” Bruce questioned.

She spoke then, wanting to be of some use, to have something to do. “This Strucker knew something, something Ultron did not want us to find out. Hard to tell secrets when you’re dead.”

Steve tried to hid how unsettling he found it, that she could talk so nonchalantly about killing, like it meant nothing. Then he tried to hide his blush at his own stupidity. It wasn’t her fault that she thought this way, it was conditioning, not who she really was deep down.

“Yup, I bet he…yeah. Everything we had on Strucker’s been erased.” Tony confirmed.

Nat shook her head as she typed away at the laptop in front of her. “Not everything. Known associates—Baron Strucker had a lot of friends.”

“Well, these people are all horrible.” Clint quipped, “Wait. I know that guy. From back in the day. He operates off the African coast. Black market arms.”

Tony chimed in then “I’ve seen him before too, at a couple of conventions from the old days.”

This time the man caught the glare Rogers was shooting his way. He rolled his eyes in return “Hey! You meet all types of people at these things. I didn’t sell him anything. He was talking about finding something new, a game-changer. It was all very Ahab.”

Mercy studied the picture of the man on the screen. He was a potential target so she must memorize everything as a precaution.

She interrupted Stark. “What is that, there?” she pointed to some sort of symbol on the man’s neck.

“He didn’t have that when I met him.” Tony supplied.

Bruce stepped forward and squinted at the image. “It’s a sort of brand. In Wakandan. It means ‘theif’.”

“If this guy got out of Wakanda with some of their trade goods…” Hill murmured.

“I thought your father said he got the last of it?” Bruce posed the question to Stark.

Mercy’s eyes were following the verbal spar back and forth, absorbing every new piece of information.

“I don’t follow. The last of what?” Clint questioned, tapping his fingers on the table annoyedly.

Stark and Banner both answered at the same time. “The strongest metal on earth.”

Steves eyebrows shot up. “Where is this guy now?” he asked, his Captain America tone leaking into his voice now.

“I don’t know but we can find out.” Tony answered, all hints of snark now gone.

“Good, you do that. Everyone be ready to move out when Stark says the word.”

They all dispersed except a few. Tony and Bruce stayed to hunt down the arms dealer. Clint was still lounging at the conference table and Mercy hadn’t moved from her spot by the doorway, not wanting to miss anything.

“So, Cap. Should I bring out the fancy arrows? I do have a few lethal ones that I’ve been wanting to test out.” Clint’s tone was light but Mercy knew he was being purposeful in his word choice. He wanted to know how bad this could get.

“Bring them all Barton. Ultron brought the fight to us, now we’re bringing the it to him” Rogers replied matter of factly.

Mercy sneered involuntarily at that, the other part of her mind coming to the forefront, ready for the violence that was to come.

—

More Notes: Anyone catch that easter egg about who Mercy used to "work for”? Seems like her and Tony may have some trouble down the road because of it.

I also tried to show more of her insecure and confused side in this chapter. Unlike the other chapters which focus a lot on her “other side” (the one that sees everyone as a threat and is basically a murder robot), I tried to show how human she really is underneath all of the terrible things The Ten turned her into. She’s not really the monster they made her to be.

I also tried to show that she subconsciously is starting to kinda trust Steve now. It’s a slow slow burn, y’all (sorry not sorry).

[cjaneway]

Space Orcs: Asking for supplies

Grunkish, a Glorpian, had heard about human ingenuity and their willingness to raze everything in their path to forge a path ahead for not only themselves, but their future. Many proud warrior races had succumbed to the sheer might of these bald apes that used tools and terrifying evolutionary traits to subdue even the most hardy of foes. Most of the inhabitants in the delta quadrant were shocked (awed, and very disturbed) when the most war-like species amongst them fell after a mere year of warfare. And what brutal warfare it was. And now it seemed those humans, hairless and awful as they were, had landed on Heroni, the Glorpian home-world.  Grunkish had been given the terrifying task of being a part of the envoy sent to surrender unconditionally, with peace offerings and hopeful treaties that would give the Glorpian people a measure of self-efficacy. It offered up a fair bit of the natural resources on the planet and whatever outposts the Glorpian empire had amassed. It wasn’t fair, not  any means, but if the contract was taken, the Glorpians would survive, and could re-negotiate later, hopefully. They approached the landing vessels, and they looked nothing like the sleek war machines he had imagined. They looked to be cobbled together into ugly yet functional scrap heaps with weapons of different size and make, hull plating differed from section to section, and some of the smaller fighters looked like mobile trash dumps. With legs. And gaudy colors. 

A delegation of humans approached, some of them were finely dressed, some were more grease than being, and others were being pushed forwards by their crew-mates because they were looking at everything. Grunkish felt slacsh gather at the nape of his nerks, this was nerve wracking! The closer they came, the harder Grunkish had to fight the urge to fall into a pile of schemch and crawl under a rock. Staring down a predator like this was not the Glorpian way: ranged attacks and hiding in safety was what had allowed them to stay afloat, somewhat, as a species for this long. Finally the other delegation stood before them. Grunkish was terrified, and his fluttering schoonix showed his unease. He heard the soft wet sounds of his compatriots’ schonix’s fluttering as well; the entire situation was deeply unsettling.

“Good morning!” What seemed like the leader of the humans spoke to their own envoy point. It seemed to be a greeting, so the envoy point held up his sleen and made a traditional greeting back. The humans had come with translators because the leader started, looked like he had forgotten something, flicked a switch and a small device next to his collar switched on.

“Sorry, I forgot I needed a translator. I am captain Running Bear” the name was indecipherable, but none of the Glorpians dared say as much. Grunkish had a feeling the collective decision would be to refer to the lead human as captain and ignore the problematic name for as long as possible, as was the Glorpian way. Their envoy point introduced himself as well. Grunkish was watching the exchange with great trepidation and the damn slacsh kept gathering in his nerks and was starting to itch. It was rude to scratch your nerks in public.

“We’re in need of supplies.” The translator on the captains neck spat out in a moderately well done approximation of Glorpian. Those were the words the Haxxian empire had heard before they had decided to be rude to the Human delegation. Those were the words Grunkish did not want to hear from the Human delegation. He prayed to Hizza that their envoy point would not land them in hot schekkah by insulting their violent visitors. Grunkish had managed to survive to a ripe age of seventy five without a single scar on his glistening hemash, which was a point of pride for Glorpians, and made him very eligible to stand as a proud member of his race when facing a new species. Grunkish had never felt so small in his life. These humans were feared, and rightly so, he heard they ate meat! Barbaric!  

“We hope you accept our unconditional surrender. Please, we mean no harm.” Grunkish was suddenly very proud of their envoy point, however, because that was some quality groveling. The captain however reared back, and the wet slapping of everyone’s schonix’s filled the silence; were they wrong? Was unconditional surrender not what the Humans wanted?

“What do you mean unconditional-“The captain was stopped by a shout from the back of his own delegation.

“No! You can’t!” What looked like a human female was being restrained by another, larger one. The smaller one was reaching her topmost limbs out towards something and making clenching motions with her tip appendages, the female almost looked diseased.

“But it’s shiny, and I want it!” Grunkish had no concept of shiny, but he surmised that it must be good to cause such diseased behavior. The rest of their envoy, including their point, watched silently, while their schonix made a collective slap noise that only increased in volume alongside the growing unease they were experiencing.

“Lieutenant, last time you found something shiny you almost died because you tried to eat it. Stand down.” The captain growled. The translator picked it up and relayed it to the Glorpians as the larger female held the smaller one, who had stopped flailing, in place. The wet slapping noise became more frequent: why in the world would someone eat anything that wasn’t tested? Did humans regularly eat things without knowing they were poisonous? What sort of mad race was this!? She had almost died, yet was willing to chance it again, the thought was so un-Glorpian it made Grunkish dizzy.

“Sorry about that, honored others, we have members that are a bit overzealous.” The captain tried to smooth over the exchange, but Grunkish could only think about the burning husk of the Haxxian empire while he listened to their point envoy spit platitudes at the human in hopes of saving their own.

It seemed talks were about to resume, but one of the other envoy members started buzzing, which started a chain reaction amongst the Glorpians: danger was near. The vibrations of the surface told them about a large, charging creature headed their way: most likely a Gabungadish. Horned, teethed, ferocious, heavy, awful, destructive, the kind of image that could easily ruin a pod cycle if told to young Glorpa. And so big. Even the pebbles were shaking. Their point man relayed the information to the humans. Grunkish waited, and he hoped, because he wanted to see what fluttered on a human when they got scared.

Nothing fluttered.

Nothing.

The captain made motion with his speaking hole and it stretched horizontally and bared his teeth. Predatory action detected, Grunkish’s nerks was covered in slacsh and it was itching terribly; this was not how it was supposed to go! A Gabungadish should be scary to everyone! Yet none of the humans fluttered! The captain called for something called “bi-ikes”, the translator did not understand it. He also told the Glorpian envoy to stay put. The slapping noises increased and the buzzing was all encompassing.

Seconds later a crew pushed out some weird looking drones with two circles placed behind one another. They were covered in what seemed to be a rubber like substance. The mad food eating female grabbed one, said something to the one who had brought the drone like thing, before straddling it and grabbing the handle in front. A weird noise made it out of her speaking hole and a select other crew members also mounted the strange drones, they were ten in total.

“Start engines!” the weird eater shouted so loudly even the captains translator picked it up. Engines? Did those drones not have remote controls? Where were their flight propulsion systems?

A wild roar startled the entire envoy to new heights as the Humans seemed to use their one hand and a foot to make the drones start, but in stead of levitating, the ten humans, on their strange (unbalanced, so unbalanced, and dangerous) drones charged forwards, rolling on the two rubber covered discs, towards the vibration their envoy point had specified.

These humans were riding dangerous space drones towards a Gabungadish.

These humans were riding loud, smelly, unsafe, space drones towards a Gabungadish.

Grunkish made a split decision to finally scratch his damn nerks; today was the day he faced death like a fearful coward, but he would not die itchy.

The ten humans rode in what seemed like a formation when the roaring Gabungadish charged into view, but instead of breaking off and running like sensible people, their drones connected! Five connected and the other five connected and created a moving clump of horrid, unsafe something and a chain shot out from one drone clump to another. They  rode like that towards the charging beast, and Grunkish had no idea what was going on, why the higher powers hated him, and why these idiot humans did not have the good sense to pack up and run like a proper being in possession of all their mental faculties and a survival instinct.

One clump rode to each side of the charging behemoth, and in almost slow motion, Grunkish watched the chain between them trip up the great scourge of the Glorpian race since before their technological ascension. It crashed, horns first, into the ground, and roared violently. The collective slapping of schonix was so loud it almost sounded like private time, but Grunkish paid it no mind, as he was rooted to the spot as the space drones disconnected and started circling the great beast, and the humans started firing at it with guns mounted on their land drones! And it was working! These crazy hairless apes were actually defeating a Gabungadish! Without a fortress! Without a turret!

 The beast screamed it’s last, a sound only a few Glorpians had been lucky enough to hear. And Grunkish stood there, alongside his envoy, while their point envoy babbled to the Captain: no one really paid attention. No wonder the Haxxian empire fell; these aliens were absolutely terrifying! Grunkish made a decision to try and relax, his schonix was getting sore and his nerks was getting sweaty again.

Too early.

He was dealing with humans.

The drones split apart once more, and five of them rode to stand in front of the giant corpse, their smoke blowing rears pointed towards the horned visage of the deceased great terror. Chains shot out, their spiked endings embedding themselves into the beast, and the drones spun wild with their hindmost disks, before the five drones managed to start dragging the huge corpse towards them.

Wait…

WHY WHERE THEY DRAGGING A DECEASED GABUNGADISH BACK HERE!? Grunkish made his peace with having a sore schonix and a sweaty nerks, because this was absolutely out of this world! What sort of… how… no… he just… no. Grunkish has logged out of the primary system, Grunkish is not an available alien at this time, please discuss anything with envoy point.

The weird eater was in the lead when they came back, the other five drones circling them with their riders making loud noises.

“Can we try eating this then?” Her shout was, again, caught up in the translator. The captain let out a sound, raised a limb to wipe the front of his top-part, and said:

“Sure, but if you get sick I’m not giving you any medication.”

Grunkish scratched his nerks again, he refused to die itchy.

[paragonrobits]

I've been thinking about trolls with tails a lot lately, so here's some ideas I've been rolling around to give them some interesting designs for tails, based on a variety of factors: their lusus influencing their growth (perhaps lusii somehow have a biological effect on a young troll, or the trolls already have the capcacity to develop those traits and that's a reason why those particular lusii might choose them), their environment present when they're young, their caste – a seadweller will need to swim, and it might be more efficient to have a tail so long that they almost look like a marine animal in profile, while hunters like Nepeta need something to keep balance while moving at high speeds – and the old stand by of 'trolls re dang weird, who knows why they're like this?'

Karkat: Looks like a lobster's tail; short, a bit spiky (they're soft and harmless), with a very wide fluke. I like the idea that Karkat is a weird connecting point between fuchsias and rusts; as a result he has a fairly short tail, as typical for the more inland-dwelling land dwellers, but it's still excellent for swimming. It also gives him fantastic balance; he'd make a great ballerina, as he's alost impossible to trip over or keep still when he's moving, he just twirls out of the way. He's likely to be very anxious about his tail, as its a dead giveaway that he's off-spectrum; he might even have docked it (and it regrew during the course of the Game), and his clothes tend to be shaped in a way that conceal it.

Aradia: Short, thickset at the base and tapering away at the tip. Her tail is mainly used as a rudder and balance when she stands at her full height, with several additional structures (resembling broad fins) that can twist or turn to fine-tune her momentum. It's especially useful when charging, turning on a dime, or make extremely precise changes in course when running from a collapsing ancient temple. Possibly, after she prototypes herself with the frog temple and becomes part frog, she takes on some amphibian qualities; her tail would then look like a tadpole's, at least with a large and delicate-looking fin. To a troll, it would look like a snake's tail, which has some cultural significance.

Tavros: Much longer than he is tall, fairly wide overall, and with a large tuft of hair at the end. Close analysis shows that this hair conceals what looks like crude digits, and the end of his tail is capable of grabbing things. The whole tail is prehensile, able to pick things up or serve as a tool. Assuming that the Nitram wings are a basic biological quirk of his bloodline or trolls that going God-Tier manifests, his tail flattens out near the tip to aid in mid-air steering. His tail is also super-sensitive, so it constantly moves, shying away from anyone or anything that gets too close; he'd trust a quadrant mate, but still be instinctively shy.

Sollux: Average length for a troll, but it forks into two whip-thin tails near the base of the tail, and are a reliable indication of his current mood based on how lethargic or energetic they are moving. Covered in short and dull plates running down, and possibly have several organs relating to psionic potential or balancing out those energies in him. Also possibly the tail is a kind of grounding rod for excess energy, discharging out from there. Other trolls with psionic abilities (including Aradia, who discharges by causing odd effects in the area around her) would develop similar tendencies.

Nepeta: I see the Leijons as being fairly atavistic in most ways so its hard to see how that works if all trolls have tails. Her tail is similar to canon, except it's unambigiously a tail and not possibly a bit of clothing or a cybernetic attachment; it's quite long, nearly as long as she is tall, and while it's not thick relative to her size, the sheer length of the hairs or spiny bits along its surface makes it look very thick. It's flexible but not very strong or at all prehensile, mainly giving her astounding balance. In particular when she makes sprinting charges or leaps, she has excellent control of how her body moves due to her tail's agility. It's so long, however, that she has difficulty standing up for long, though that might just be a quirk of her spinal structure.

Kanaya: Average length, but growing longer as she gets older. It's extremely fluffy, covered in decorative spines or hairs that are soft to the touch, and hugely expressive; they can twist in a variety of ways, and she dyes them multiple colors for an iridescent effect. While not exactly prehensile, it is very strong and she is entirely capable of holding people still with her tail thanks to its sheer length. This leads to her other quirk in her tail; when she became a rainbow drinker, several small spikes along it's lenth grew much longer and hollow, developing into stingers capable of plunging into the body of prey and draining their blood or other vital fluids (if desired). This can be as violent or gentle as desired; while she prefers to feed in the traditional fashion, she can use her tail like this if she feels inclined. To support her tail transferring those fluids when feeding, the underside is very fleshy and several tubes beneath the flesh.

Terezi: Fairly long, but not unusually so; most striking about her tail is how incredibly thick it is. In places its as broad, or broader, than some lowblood trolls. Sort of a mish-mash up of dragon and crocodile tails (with a bit of gila monster): it's heavily plated, having a series of spikes running down to the tip, and helps her swim quite well, and even enabling her to fly amazingly well when she has a jetpack or similar flying device equipped. However, she's fairly poor at making turns because of its size. The armor, size and sheer muscle of her tail makes it a potent weapon. She might have a kind of thagomizer at the end, but she could make something and strap it on for the same effect. It's also a lot more flexible than it looks, and she can certainly slap it into the sides (or backsides) of anyone within range, cackling as they nurse a sudden sharp impact. That said, it also looks hard and brutal, but the underside is extremely soft due to how thick the whole tail is, and she enjoys the feeling of people nuzzling into it; she's prone to laying back while her friends (mainly Karkat and Dave) sleep or doze on on. (Feel free to draw the appropriate conclusions about Terezi acting tough but being secretly a sweetheart.)

Vriska: Fairly long, her tail resembles a scorpion's tail, complete with a large stinger a few feet long. It's overall segmented and armored, though lightly so; it's very fast, relative to its size, and hits extremely hard. Possibly as a result of her lusus' influence or a strange biological byproduct of her powers, she naturally produces venom that she can inject directly into others. This venom is not toxic, at least in small doses, but it renders victims pliable, lethargic and more vulnerable to her mind control abilities. During her FLARPing days, she often used it to render her lusii's meals completely helpless, and playfully stinging Eridan. In smaller doses, though ,it could be a relaxant. Some trolls are more resistant: trolls higher up the hemosprectum show resistance, while Terezi is completely immune. Additionally, she can funnel it through spinnerets in her stinger, soldifying it into a webby substances that she can wrap people up in, for a longer-term use. Finally, Vriska's tail is flexible enough to curl around itself into a more compact form, resembling a spider's abdomen. Despite her tail's utility, it constantly throws her balance off and she can trip herself up pretty easily.

Equius: It's not particularly long, relative to his height, but his tail looks long. An astounding amount of thick and glossy hair grows but from his tail in a kind of curtain or mane, which he grooms fastidiously, and his sheer amount of tail-hair makes his tail look much longer than it actually is. It's fairly slender relative to his size and very inflexible, usually held ramrod stiff. It greatly assists his running; when Equius starts moving, his balance is absolutely impeccable and he's very difficult to trip up. Combined with his strength, he is a very fast juggernaut. He takes pride in his tail's health, but it' got os much hair that he can't reach it most of the time; his robots often help maintain it, and if he cannot build any, he relies on his quadrant mates; Nepeta mainly helps groom him but Aradia is available to help if needed. (Feferi once did so and Equius has still not stopped swooning.)

Gamzee: As with his shore-dwelling people, Gamzee blurs the line between a sea-dweller and a land-dweller. Whether or not he has vestigial facial fins, his tail certainly looks designed for swimming; it's long, heavy, its powerful mass lined with several flukes or flippers that would serve him well in swimming – or, considering that they are rimmed with short sharp claws, in a tail-slap fight. It is, however, too light to do this consistently, lacking the adaptations that a true sea-dweller would have; Gamzee would be easily tired by swimming with his tail for too long. His tail also has extremely heavy quills that are normally relaxed and resemble hair; unlike Equius' hair, these are wild and drift to the floor like a build-in broom, making his tail look larger than it actually is. When he is stressed or in a Caliborn-influenced state of mind, they bristle and stiffen into proper quills that are flexible and very strong; they're almost impossible to pull out once they're stuck in you, and are shockingly painful to be hit by.

Eridan: Eridan's tail is very long, as typical for sea-dwellers, who rely heavily on their tail for propulsion in the water. However his tail's length is not easily apparent because it has grown in a crooked, curling shape similr to a sea-horse's tail. Large fins grow along its length, which provide most of his aquatic propulsion, and long spines dot his tail. These spines, which make a very nasty impact, are connected by a number of thick membranes that collectively make a net. Apparently the main purpose of these nets is to support eggs and young grubs, or especially small trolls. He's a bit embarrassed of this innate tendency towards fatherliness. In the sea, Eridan's tail curls out into a crooked line, and can push with considerable force; he's fast but is far faster at sudden turns. There's evidence to support the romantic idea of courts of violets swarming around their fuchsia, protecting her, grooming her and feeding her, and Eridan's tail effectively works well for him behaving like this with Feferi.

Feferi: Overall has the largest tail out of any of the trolls; it's at least as long as she is tall, if not significantly longer, and extraordinarily thick (about on par with Terezi's). This sheer size makes her fairly unstable on land, or seem deceptively clumsy. Her tail can be described as a mixture of primordial sea monsters distilled into a single efficient limb; there's elements of a moasaur's heavy tail, the muscular action of a whale, and a bit of shark in there as well. The overall shape resembles the mantle of a squid, as well. And on that note, she may or may not have several tentacles lining the sides, drifting gently behind her. In the water, her tail provides her enormous speed so she can move with terrifying suddenness; the same strength that can put her from the ocean floor to the sky can propel so fast and violently that she's likely to tear right through anything in her way, and a single tail slap will probably kill anything it hits. (Or splatter it.) She'll have a lot of jewelery, rings and fancy shiny bits encircling her entire tail; golden loops wrapped snugly around it, or even set into the softer membranes connecting the many fins lining its circumference.

[arguablyclever]

Blogs-R-Us #1 (Assignment)

Roughly, the assignment here is to write at least a thousand words of free-flowing thought (ie word vomit) onto a blog about Cognitive Science and essentially hope for the best. So. Here goes.

[Word count begins here] Essentially, cognitive science, as I know it so far, is the study of metacognition, not just cognition as a whole. Nearly every framing device (ha ha) that we use to study these concepts seems to be about how people think about thinking, and not just patterns of free-form thought. Nearly every paper that we have read has been about a thought experiment in which the writer discusses their own thinking, and not much at all about their understanding of others’ experience being different than the writer’s own without some extenuating circumstance, such as hypothetical persons with and without Alzheimer's Disease keeping one of them from being able to remember anything without some external device to remind them. I mean, I certainly need reminders quite regularly, and to my knowledge, I have ADHD, not Alzheimer's. It has been rather frustrating throughout this class to read a lot of these papers, as the way they are written is circular logic, extremely convoluted in design and extremely difficult to read and at all understand; most of the other students with whom I have discussed these papers agree that most of it has just been a confusing mess. Nearly every single paper could be summed up in a matter of two sentences and still get the entire point across. I don’t know what was up with that guy and boats? Nearly the whole thing was about.... boats? I’m still not sure what he was talking about, or what he was getting at. All I can remember from it, even after going over it twice with a philosophy tutor, is boats. If he had summarized what he meant, it would be a lot less confusing, and maybe I’d remember what he was even talking about (beyond boats, of course). In short: I feel like it all should have been a lot more straightforward. And, as I continue to essentially rant out my frustrations with these papers, why is nearly every single one so self-centric? I understand the fact that people cannot escape their own minds, but I feel that there’s a limit to how much you can use yourself as an example of the populace. In psychology, at least, you need a sample size of at least thirty to be able to start any sort of survey or experiment. Self-examination may be a start to trying to figure out what to study, but in nearly all of these, the authors are essentially making themselves a case study equal to the entire populace of their culture! It just makes no sense to me. It may very well be, though, that I am saying so as someone who personally knows their own neurodivergences. I know for a fact that I have a number of neurodivergent qualities that make me rather different from the populace as a whole, and thus, I have the frame that I, personally, cannot ever use myself as an example of the populace. Thus, I am projecting that quality onto others; I cannot assume my mental state as it functions fits the pattern of functioning of others’ brains due to neurodivergence, but can neurotypicals safely make such assumptions? I have decided not, and here is why: sometimes, neurodivergences are minor, or otherwise impossible to detect. There is also no guarantee that the majority of the populace is not neurodivergent in some way, and very few neurodivergences, even with the same diagnosis, are that similar in symptomology. ADHD, for instance, has a very wide range of possible symptoms, even in adults, each of which can be present (or not!) in different people. And that’s not even a spectrum disorder! This, of course, isn’t even to mention my being called upon in class multiple times, and ending up with a very different answer than most others in our class. During the Framing lesson, for instance, I was called upon twice: once to draw a “vehicle,” and once because I chose a strange answer to a very generic question. Upon being asked to draw a “vehicle,” my mind went through a variety of hoops: Firstly, I do not drive, and while at school, am not driven about much. I personally do not consider things a “vehicle” unless they have a motor or other mechanical self-propulsion of sorts (though possibly fuel-based), and by golly, that must mean that more motors makes something more “vehicle!” Not only that, but as a child, I spent quite a bit of time playing a game called Spore, wherein there are three types of vehicles one could have in the Civilization stage of the game, being land vehicle, water vehicle, and air vehicle, the best and most versatile of which is, of course, the air vehicle. Thus, my first instinct when told to draw a “vehicle,” is to draw an airplane, much to the surprise and, frankly, dismay of my classmates, who all imagined that I would draw what they would: a blocky mid-sized sedan. An airplane has, often, four motors (double a hybrid car’s two), ten wheels, many passengers to carry about, plenty of cargo space, brakes, gas, et cetera. To me, it’s the quintessential “vehicle.” Upon being asked to write down one zoo animal, my instinct was “meerkat,” which was specifically pointed out and stated to be strange. The reasoning, of course, was that the San Diego Zoo has a very high-end Africa-centric exhibit area, which includes a wide field for meerkats. Most zoos have lions, tigers, bears (oh my), penguins, giraffes, elephants, zebras, the works, but the San Diego Zoo is known for a lot more. I’m not there to see those other exhibits I could see anywhere else. I want to see the strange and new when I go to look at an exhibit somewhere. Thus, meerkat is my first instinct when I hear “zoo.” It had not occurred to me before that even my most instinctive shout-outs would be so different from even the rest of the class in a school filled with people I had thought were so much like me. In short: don’t assume your brain and other brains work the same way, no matter who you are. They don’t work the same way, and pretty provably. See example: neurodivergences. [Word count: 1034]