Thoughts? I don't have a penny, but I want the thoughts.
you wanna know what i think about all the time?
the jedi service corps.
they are so cool and so sexy to me. imagine having a direct line to the glue that holds the universe together and you get to do science about it!
i wanna know what that looks like!! show me the daily life of an exploracorps member who needs to find a scientific way to formulate 'yeah, that strange rock actually was an egg of an energy-based force-entity. after we made sure that we all were cool, we helped hatch it by hogtying it to the exhaust of one of our mid-size cruisers and going to hyperspace. its mother will recommend our services to their peers. that experience started another theological debate about the nature of the force itself and also about whether or not stones should be considered organic lifeforms'
gimme agricorps members who create the most fucked up franken-tree by grafting a hundred different branches from all across a system to a host tree. Gimme a medicorps member who then postulates that the same thing should theoretically be possible with a neti
give me a neti knight who immediately offers themself as a test subject. for 'science'
give me the educorps people trying to get all of this written down in a way that is not only understandable for future generations, but also carries added value for future generations (it's mostly cautionary tales of what not to do, lbr)
just,,,,
more people should get into the strange and exciting ways that the jedi experience the world around them and interact with it. i think there's so much joy and so many stories in there and i wanna read them all
maybe write some of them too
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Another abnormalities suppression is success... But you know you won't be able to make it. Laying on the ground with your own pool of blood. Then suddenly you see a familiar figure. It was Binah your sephirah. A small smile appear on lip knowing that you won't die alone. Binah simple holding you... Then sudden guilt hit you. You apologize Binah for staining her clothes, sorry for causing this much trouble. Sorry you won't be able to give her the report of today, even the report is now cover in your blood...
(My anxiety was acting up not very good. So please please write this become a much peaceful ending.)
Binah merely lets out a long, quiet sigh, pulling you even closer. your head rests on her lap. if she could, she'd arrange herself so you were cradled against her instead. but it hurts you too much, like this, body weak and slumped over against the bloodbath of a floor. so Binah just sits with you instead, pressing a careful hand against your cheek and thumbing right beneath your eyes. you try to speak through a mouthful of blood. she shushes you silently with a finger to your lips, the rest of everything fizzling out around you until it's just you and Binah left, without the rest of the world. there's blood on her robes, yet she doesn't seem concerned about it in the slightest. instead her focus is on you. it always is, even if you don't know it
another alarm blares in the background, but Binah doesn't move away. she leans in closer if anything, dropping a careful, tender kiss on your forehead. then she smiles. the alarms grow only louder. your Sephirah regards it with happiness instead of apathy, for once, as it means this cycle is coming to an end. everything shall end, and restart again, round and round. Binah's hand caresses your face, not minding the blood on her fingertips tomorrow she'll wake up in the dark today, patiently waiting her turn as she always does, for her department to open, for her performance to begin. and then, finally, she'll see you again
in the end, you always find each other. it's her one comfort in this dismal place
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She really didn’t want to kill. As much as she knew how horrible demons were, she didn’t know if she could bear to kill. It would be horrible, wouldn’t it? They had been humans once, after all. Maybe they could still feel. Maybe they would be in pain as they died. And they didn’t deserve any of this! None of them had asked to become the monsters they had! It was all so terrible. But she had to do this—she wanted to join. It wasn’t really just about getting a boyfriend (albeit it would be a nice bonus), not anymore. Not after she had seen a Demon Slayer in action—the terror in her own body as she cowered from the demon. She had been alone at the time so nobody had gotten hurt. But the determination in the Slayer’s eyes and their kindness when they helped her to her feet made her want to do this, she wanted to join. But now, despite finally making it to the final test, she was having second thoughts. Could she really do it?
She was antsy with nerves, bouncing from one foot to the other in a nervous habit, fidgeting with her katana handle. For once, at least, she wasn’t worrying about what people might be thinking of her strange hair, so that was a plus! Maybe.
She glanced around, feeling slightly reassured to see the same nervousness rippling throughout her companions. She approached one person—another girl with hip-length black hair and dark eyes that flicked anxiously around. Offering her a quick smile, Mitsuri tried making small talk, wanting to both sooth the girl and herself. The girl seemed hesitant to speak at first but eventually melted into the conversation, mostly keeping her part up with nods and gentle hums of assent—which was fine, Mitsuri was talking a lot now, calming now that she didn’t feel completely alone.
A couple minutes later, two young girls appeared at the gate that entered the wisteria cage of Final Selection. They spoke in unison, words not relatively loud yet echoing in the small space where only muted conversation was all anyone could muster. They explained the rules of the test, how it lasted a week and the ones that came out alive by the end were the ones that passed. This encouraged titters of concern through the crowd but they continued, unfazed. After finishing their short speech, they parted, leaving way for everyone to enter. Mitsuri let the surge of the others lead her inside before she found herself in the dark, blinking quickly to adjust. She looked around, wondering what she would do. Then, deciding that team work was always great, she searched for the girl she had spoken to earlier. The girl, as it turns out, was right beside her, the light from outside the dense wisteria providing Mitsuri enough source to see her lingering uncertainly.
“Can we… go in together?” Mitsuri asked quietly, afraid that if she spoke, she would break some sort of spell in the eerie quietness of the forest. Despite the amount of people milling about, finding their way, it seemed terribly silent. Perhaps the demons were hiding, waiting for their best catch. She shuddered, turning her thoughts back to the girl as she waited for a response.
“Okay,” the girl said eventually, apparently deciding that this would be the best option.
“Okay!” Mitsuri echoed, relieved. She smiled then they made their way through the trees, maneuvering around the other people.
For the first night, nothing happened. During the day they got some sleep, taking turns to go out and find some berries or whatever they could possible eat here. The second night, they encountered one demon. It was a reckless demon, however, driven by its hunger and that only. There was a slight struggle before Mitsuri and the girl beheaded it, watching its disintegrated form with mild interest. Mitsuri wasn’t quite sure what to feel, a mixture of uncertainty still lingering from her doubts from earlier. Maybe she could’ve reasoned with the demon! Shown it that it could try to survive off of blood banks or some sort. There had to be an alternative, right? Killing it was so dreadfully sad, even if it did seem more angry than upset. But then the third night rolled along and changed everything.
Up till now, Mitsuri had never seen death before. She wasn’t stupid, of course, she knew that everyone died eventually and there was really nothing much to do about it—unless it was something like this, working to save people from creatures that would kill the deliberately. But she had never seen someone die in front of her, neither peacefully or mercilessly. Unfortunately, her first taste of the crude sight turned out even worse than she could’ve imagined.
She and the girl, who were both quite tired after being up all day because of the clouds that blotted out the sun, had been trekking through the forest, katanas clutched tightly in their hands. They were beginning to become a little more accustomed to the dark and each other, more comfortable. It seemed that days full of fear brought people closer together. As they walked, there was the sound of rustling leaves. Instantly, they both froze, waiting to see if the source was a human, a demon, or an animal. When nothing happened, they settled on the wind. Of course, their nerves bristled nevertheless and they were on edge, jumpy at the slightest sounds. And then it happened.
It was so quick, so abrupt that Mitsuri couldn’t have done anything anyway. But one moment, the girl was beside her, sharing her anxiety. Then the next, she was dangled in the air by her ankle, a scream tearing at her vocal chords. When Mitsuri turned, eyes wide, panic spiking every sense, she found her friend’s blood dripping onto her face. She froze, unable to do anything. A demon, its form a blur, cackled gleefully, shoving limbs and fingers clumsily into its mouth. The previous scream that had indicated to Mitsuri that something had been wrong had been cut off now, leaving a ringing silence around them. When Mitsuri looked up, whole body shaking, she met the eyes of the girl who’s final breaths would be drawn. For a moment, the dark eyes plead for help, agony written in the depths of her gaze. Then she trembled, eyes rolling back and never seeing again.
That was when Mitsuri broke, a croaky cry leaving her throat. The demon, still devouring her friend, glanced down at her dismissively, too indulged in its own hunger to say anything. But Mitsuri was already at its throat, pure adrenaline and hatred for this creature—this monster—that had stolen her friend from her without mercy driving her forward, driving her katana into the demon’s throat and watching the blade sink into its flesh. She delivered the same cruel dismissiveness to its death as it had for her friend’s, unable to feel any pity for it anymore. Because how could she? Not when she still had the blood of the girl, not yet dried, staining her skin. Not when the image of a contorted body, bones twisted unnaturally, pieces of flesh missing, all burned into Mitsuri’s memory. She did not… she could not understand how it could do such a thing. How it could be so cruel and spare her not even a glance.
She decided, then, that it would not be hard to kill. Not if it was the demons she was killing. Not if she would be saving so, so many lives by ridding of its existence. Yes, she hadn’t known the girl for long. But it didn’t matter. She had cared enough to be stilled, frozen to the bone at the sound of her scream, the sight of her mangled body. She could never forgive the demons. Risk her life or not, she would not allow this to happen again. Never.
the girl that died- appearance-wise is a vague description of me (gave into the temptation)
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What is the closest military base to the white house?
The White House IS a military installation.
It is the home and workplace of the Commander-in-Chief of United States military forces, so that alone makes it an important command and control headquarters. The various branches of the military have an active role in the everyday logistics of running the White House campus and supporting the Executive Office of the President. The White House's complex and extensive communications agency is staffed by members of each individual branch of the military. The U.S. Navy is responsible for the White House Mess and providing food services to the President, the First Family, any potential guests, and the President's staff. The White House Medical Unit is staffed by military doctors who have a round-the-clock presence in the White House and the official Physician to the President is usually an active-duty military officer.
While the Secret Service -- which includes the traditional plainclothes agents and the more visible uniformed division -- is responsible for protecting the President, his family, and the White House itself, the military also has a protective footprint in and around the White House complex. It's believed that amongst the White House's protective measures -- most of which are highly classified -- are anti-aircraft defenses, which are almost certainly manned by the military rather than the Secret Service. Marine Corps guards also are stationed at the White House (often seen opening and closing doors while manning the entry and exit points around the West Wing) as sentries and sometimes act as military valets during events hosted by the President in the White House. The role of the Marine sentries is purely ceremonial as opposed to protective.
And one of the most important White House responsibilities of the military is transportation. The White House Transportation Agency is responsible for all aspects of the President's travel, and the military works in tandem with the Secret Service on planning and carrying out the immense logistical challenges of transporting the President anywhere in the world -- a challenge magnified by the sheer size of Presidential traveling parties. A Presidential motorcade consists of, on average, 50-60 vehicles. And the majority of those vehicles actually have to be transported from the United States to wherever the President is traveling -- even if it is to several different foreign countries or continents. The Air Force is, obviously, responsible for the President's plane, along with any other aircraft making the trip which are usually carrying White House staff, members of the press, or cargo. For short distances that can be made by helicopter, the Marine Corps takes the lead. And any ground travel by motor vehicles is handled by the Army.
Security and the President's personal protective detail is always led by the Secret Service, but the military is responsible for many of the day-to-day logistics of the institution of the Presidency, which illustrates why the White House is an important military command and control base.
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