#Accelerated Curriculum

[k12academics]

CCI Training Center has the mission of providing the most effective accelerated, hands on training and enhancement training to the public in a convenient online/on campus schedule.

Our goal is to be a superior company through constant innovation, attention to details, and a focus on quality in all that we do.

We are dedicated to each student who walks through our doors with warmth and friendliness. We work to create an outstanding learning experience.

We believe that the greatest strength of CCI Training Center lies within our people. We are committed to providing an environment that recognizes initiative and performance.

We build relationships through participation and services. We work together to help meet the employment needs of our community.

[bubbled-clouds]

oh chat..

[antisocialgaycat]

For once in my life i just want to be the youngest and least experienced person in the room. I want to be allowed to absolutely suck, to not have to be a role model, and to not have to constantly be performing. I want to be allowed to show emotions instead of being a constantly cheery, happy, approachable and experienced leader. I just want to be able to relax and be myself and do things for myself and not have to show people how to do everything.

[tanishksingh]

MBA course duration: How long does it take to get an MBA?

[giuliannna]

LESSON PLAN

studying isn’t so entertaining when you have something else on your mind - something that involves your shy tutor. inspired by this request

contains: loss of virginity (don’t read if uncomfortable)

hamzah always knocks on your door too lightly, shifting from foot to foot like he’s thinking about running away. you open the door and he’s standing there with his sleeves tugged down over his hands, backpack hung on his shoulders.

“hi,” he mumbles, not meeting your eyes.

“you’re late,” you say, but you’re smiling, leaning against the doorframe in a tank top that’s showing too much. or not enough, depending how you look at it.

“sorry - uh, my car.. i mean- yeah. sorry.”

you step aside to let him in, and he walks in like he’s entering a museum. eyes darting around your room - pink sheets, candles, glossy lip balm tubes scattered on the desk - like he doesn’t know where he’s allowed to look. his cheeks are already turning pink.

“you can sit,” you say, already flopping onto your bed.

he hesitates. “uh- here?”

“yeah, hamzah,” you grin, patting your bedspread. “you’re not gonna, like, catch cooties. i’m tired of you always sitting at my desk all the time. you’re too far away.”

he laughs, but it’s nervous. he sinks down onto the very edge of the mattress, leaving a prominent gap of space between you two. he opens the cover of his textbook, flipping through pages with shaky hands. he clears his throat.

“so.. i figured we could start with the practice on page 211. if that’s okay.”

you hum. “sure.”

you lean over to look at the page. and when you do, your arm brushes his. his breath catches. he tries not to move, but he tries even harder not to look at the way your collarbone is peeking out or how your lip gloss shines.

you glance at him. he looks like he’s trying to remember how to breathe.

“you okay?”

“y-yeah. yep. page 211.”

he’s trying so hard.

his voice is all quiet and focused, like he really believes you’re going to care about vectors and kinematic equations just because he’s reading them off a flashcard.

“so, um, if the object’s moving with constant acceleration, you can use the formula - i mean, like.. initial velocity plus acceleration times time is..”

he squints down at his notes and pushes his glasses up with the side of his hand.

the frames keep sliding down his nose. you want to tug them off and crawl into his lap.

you’re sprawled out on the bed in your tiny sleep shorts, legs stretched long and bare toward him, like you’re just testing the waters - seeing how far you can push him before something breaks.

he’s still perched right on the edge of the mattress, like your bed is a sacred place. like one wrong move might make him bolt from the room.

“hamzah,” you hum, voice sugar-sweet and full of amusement.

his eyes dart up, nervous and wide behind his lenses. “yeah?”

you tilt your head, playing with the strap of your top. “you’re so cute when you talk about physics.”

he blinks. you see the pink rise to his cheeks.

“i- uh, thanks. it’s, um.. it’s just the way the curriculum explains it, i’m not, like, making it up or anything-”

you smile. “i know. you’re just so smart.”

his voice stutters into silence. his fingers tighten around the flashcard.

you roll onto your stomach, bending your knees up and swinging your feet lazily. “are you always this nervous around girls?”

“i’m not - i’m not nervous,” he says too fast, eyes flitting around the room like they’re begging for a safe place to land. “i just, uh, wanna make sure you understand it. the material. so you don’t fail.”

you giggle. “oh, right. i stopped listening, like, fifteen minutes ago.” your voice softens into a pout. “i’m bored.”

he hears that tone in your voice and looks up at you, the flashcard in his hand starting to tremble a little.

“b-bored?”

you nod, stretching again, letting your shorts ride up just a bit more. “mhm. think you could teach me something else?”

he swallows. audibly. “i- i don’t know what else you’d want me to teach you..”

you sit up on your knees and shift closer, slow and casual, like this isn’t going to break his entire understanding of reality.

“well,” you murmur, touching the hem of his sleeve. “you know what i heard?”

“what?” he nearly whispers.

“i heard that you’ve never kissed a girl before.”

he doesn’t say anything. he doesn’t even try to deny it. his mouth opens like he wants to speak, but nothing comes out.

you hum, pleased. “you want to?”

his whole body tenses. “i.. y-you mean.. right now?”

you reach up and adjust his crooked glasses, nodding. “right now.”

his eyes flick to your mouth and back up again. “y-yeah. if.. if you want to.”

you laugh softly and cup his cheek with one hand.

he melts.

he makes a tiny, broken noise in the back of his throat like that short-circuited something in his brain.

you kiss him.

he gasps against your mouth - not dramatic, just genuinely surprised. he doesn’t know where to put his hands, he doesn’t even move at all until you guide him, fingers lacing with his and placing them on your hips.

his mouth is soft, warm, clumsy. he kisses like he’s afraid to mess it up, like he’s thinking too hard about what to do with it. his lips are glossy and red when you finally pull back.

he blinks up at you like he’s not sure the kiss actually happened. like maybe he blacked out halfway through it. his glasses are crooked again. you fix them for him gently.

“you wanna learn something?” you whisper.

he nods, like it’s instinct.

“lie back. i’ll show you how to make a girl feel good.”

he obeys. no questions asked.

and you’re already thinking about how he’s going to look between your thighs - desperate, overwhelmed, ready to worship you without even knowing how.

he lies back, palms flat against your sheets. his fingers are twitching like he doesn’t know what to do with them, and his legs are a little too close together, stiff with nerves. his shirt rides up at the hem and his glasses are fogging slightly, but he watches you as you crawl over him and straddle his waist like you’ve already done this a hundred times.

he looks terrified.

yet already, he’s so hard.

you lean down, kiss his flushed cheek, whisper against his ear, “you wanna go down on me?”

his breath catches. “i- i’ve never..”

“i know.”

you smile and kiss him again, slower this time. “i’ll help you.”

and that’s all it takes. he nods, frantic, already trying to sit up like he wants to be useful.

you tug your shorts down slow, teasing, watching the way his eyes track every inch of your skin. when you toss your panties aside, his mouth drops open like he’s seeing something heavenly.

you climb up and settle your thighs over his face, one knee on either side of his head. “you okay down there?” you ask sweetly.

he breathes out hard, nodding. “yeah. yeah, i’m- fuck.”

you giggle.

and then you lower yourself.

his first lick is so clumsy it barely even lands. he sort of just presses his tongue to you like he’s not sure what he’s supposed to do, and it’s so messy, so warm, so desperate it makes you laugh breathlessly.

“oh my god,” you whisper, grinding down just a little. “you really have no idea what you’re doing, hamzah.”

he moans into you. it vibrates through your whole body.

“but you want to, don’t you?”

he nods under you. you feel it. his hands are on your thighs now, squeezing gently, trying to hold you in place even though you’re the one doing all the moving.

“don’t think too hard about it,” you murmur. “just try.”

and he does.

he’s sloppy and starved and so completely in awe of your body. he licks too fast, then too slow, then gets better when you tug on his hair and grind your hips just right.

he’s not coordinated, but he’s willing.

you rock against his face, moaning when his tongue finally catches your clit the way you want it to.

“fuck - right there, hamzah. keep going, don’t stop.”

he whimpers, like the praise is feeding him more than your cunt is. you ride it out, guiding his head, rolling your hips while he holds on and tries so hard to avoid screwing it up.

he’s soaked. his chin, his nose, his whole mouth - all wet. all yours.

when you finally cum, it’s sharp and fast and mean, your fingers yanking his hair and your thighs trembling around his head.

you don’t even get all the way off him. you just slide down until you’re sitting on his chest, catching your breath, looking down at him.

his mouth is red and slick and his lips are parted. he looks ruined. you smile, feeling proud.

“good boy,” you whisper.

he twitches under you - hips jerking up like he’s this close from just finishing in his pants.

his hands hover in the air like he doesn’t know where to put them. not on your waist, not on your hips, not on your thighs. you take them and pin them to the bed.

“stay still,” you tease, climbing down his body. “i’m not done with you yet.”

his eyes flutter shut for a second, overwhelmed. he’s so red in the face you can see it creeping down his neck, blooming along his skin like heatstroke.

“you’ve never even.. touched a girl before, have you?”

he shakes his head. swallows hard. “n-no. i mean, not - not like this.”

you hum like you’re thinking. “not even.. over-the-clothes stuff?”

“no,” he breathes. “i’ve only ever - like.. y’know. on my own.”

you sit back and smile like you’re delighted. “god, that’s so cute.”

he groans, burying his face in his arm. “please don’t make fun of me.”

“hamzah,” you purr, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth, “i’m not making fun of you. i love it.”

his hips twitch at that. he doesn’t even mean to - it’s just instinct, pure and helpless.

you reach down and finally palm him over his sweats. he’s rock hard, twitching, so sensitive. he gasps, trying to hold still.

“look at you,” you murmur. “all worked up and i haven’t even taken these off yet.”

he covers his face again. “i’m sorry-”

you laugh sweetly. “don’t be sorry, hamzah. you’re doing perfect.”

your fingers curl into the waistband of his sweats. you pull them down slow, along with his boxers, and he lifts his hips eagerly without you even asking.

and when he springs free - flushed and leaking and pretty - you just look at him for a second.

“fuck,” you whisper. “you’ve been keeping this from me?”

his face is burning. “i didn’t - m’sorry, i didn’t think-”

you cut him off with a kiss.

“you want me to be your first, don’t you?” you exhale against his lips.

he nods instantly. “please. i want it so bad.”

“yeah?” you stroke him once, slow and mean. he chokes on a moan. “you gonna be good for me?”

“yes. yes, i will, just - tell me what to do. i don’t wanna mess anything up.”

you climb back over him and straddle his hips again, dragging your slick along the length of his cock so he can feel how ready you are.

“you’re not gonna mess it up, hamzah. i’ll take care of everything.”

his whole body shudders. you reach down and guide him with one hand, pressing the head of his cock to your entrance.

“wait,” he whispers, chest rising and falling rapidly, “i don’t - i don’t wanna cum yet.”

you smile. “you’re not gonna. not yet. just breathe.”

his hands grip your waist, fingers digging in just enough to ground himself. his eyes are locked on where your bodies meet - lips parted, completely speechless.

you sink down slow. his head hits the pillow. a choked moan leaves his lips. his hips jerk without permission.

“oh - oh my god,” he whispers, voice cracking. “it’s so.. good, it’s - fuck, i’m..”

you pause halfway, hand splayed across his chest. “c’mon, breathe, hamzah.”

he gasps like he’s forgotten how.

you press a kiss to his jaw. “you’re doing so good, i promise.”

you take the rest of him inch by inch, letting him stretch you slowly. his cock is twitching inside you, like everything is too much, like he’s been waiting his whole life for this exact moment.

you settle fully, hips snug against his, and you don’t move. he’s trembling under you.

“this okay?” you ask softly, running your fingers down his chest.

he nods. “y-yeah. i just.. it’s so much. i can’t think.”

you lean down and kiss his temple. “that’s good. you think too much. you don’t have to for once.”

you rock your hips once - shallow, gentle. he gasps.

“oh my god- don’t stop-”

you shush him sweetly. his hands are fisting the sheets now. his head turns to the side like he’s trying to ground himself in anything that isn’t you, but you won’t let him look away.

you grip his chin and make him face you.

“eyes on me.”

he obeys instantly. he’s all flushed, fucked-out.

you start rocking your hips again, slow and steady, dragging yourself up and down his cock while he just whines under you.

his hands twitch at your waist, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to touch you more, but when you grind down just right and clench around him - he loses all of that control.

his hips snap up into you without warning. once. twice. again.

“shit - i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to-”

you gasp, caught off guard by how deep he hits. your hand slaps down on his chest to keep yourself steady, but he’s already chasing it now - thrusting up into you, messy and fast and needy.

“fuck-! i can’t stop, oh god - sorry,” he whimpers.

you moan, loud. “don’t be sorry, hamzah - oh, my god.. fuck me just like that.”

his eyes go wide. his hands grip your ass, holding you down as he drives up into you with these frantic, uncoordinated thrusts.

“you feel so good - jesus, i didn’t know it would feel like this-”

you’re bouncing now, letting him fuck up into you while your fingers dig into his chest. he’s gasping under you, all choked breaths and flushed skin and eyes locked on your tits through the thin fabric of your top.

“you gonna cum already?” you tease, breathless, grinning down at him.

he nods, eyes glossy. “i’m trying not to - i swear, i’m trying.. i don’t wanna cum yet, please-”

“why not?” you pant, leaning close so your nose brushes his. “you wanna make me finish first?”

he whimpers. “yes.”

you smile. “good boy.”

and that breaks him.

he bucks up harder, sweat gathering at his temples, teeth sinking into his lip. his hands are sliding all over your waist now, greedy and clumsy like he can’t decide whether to hold you still or pull you closer.

you guide one of his hands to your clit. “touch me here, hamzah. just like i showed you.”

he does. shaky at first, then more confident when he hears how loud you moan.

and then you’re right there - hips stuttering, thighs trembling, your whole body shaking on top of him.

“hamzah, fuck- don’t stop..”

he watches you fall apart like he’s witnessing something holy.

you cry out as you cum again, clenching hard around him, and that’s when he completely unravels.

“oh fuckfuckfuck - i’m gonna cum, i can’t-”

he sobs your name as he finishes. hips locked, cock twitching, entire body stiffening under you. he moans through it, whimpering and cursing, clinging to you like you’re the only thing keeping him on earth.

his chest heaves. your body goes limp over his. and neither of you say a thing for a second - just trying to breathe. your thighs are shaking and his chest is slick with sweat, his glasses fogged and askew, but neither of you move right away.

he blinks up at the ceiling.

“oh, my god.”

you giggle against his shoulder, tucking his glasses up onto his forehead gently. “s’that good, huh?”

he just stares at you with this wrecked, teary, completely worshipful face. that’s all you need to know.

“mm. glad i could teach you something for a change.”

a/n: not proofread again sorryyyy

xoxo giulia

taglist: @gulicore @slushedup @arroganceisherfavoritecolor @layzerzlovesu46 @babysitter19 @marixoa @starjely @viennawaiits @h-yalexaaaa @freakzah444 @anginluv @gabwilliams @sturniyolo @screamertannie @brlwla @yourstrulykiya @angelegss @hamzaholic @isathefantastic @divinesturn @forestlv4r @mayapuma20 @ottakugirl @hamzahsbestone @pulcen @rustnroll @venus-planetof-love @hamzahsn1gf @rock678 @wandas-lovey @guiltyfemcel @axetheboyboss @harrys0nlyange1 @ttlynotme @yassqueen1303 @animalcrossingshameless @opiumfidgetspinner @pictureperfectblue @slushingmynoob @vampzah @ilovezah @wh1speringstarr

[simulacrum3ade68b1]

in case anyone cares...

here's the full finished ver of my chem notes. it's specifically for my school's accelerated chemistry class curriculum, but probably would work for general studying/review

[imagination-mess]

A Second Chance at Life (Touya Todoroki X Fem!Reader) Chapter 3

Summary: For the past five years, you’ve been raising your son as a single mother. You’ve successfully avoided questions about his father by claiming that he died during the Paranormal Liberation War. From what you believe, this isn’t a lie. The last time you saw him was when he personally escorted you to U.A.’s shelter amidst the chaos in the streets.

Unbeknownst to you, he has been alive all this time, clinging to life in a facility working to keep him alive. His father, Enji, has been desperately searching for someone willing to heal him. After his presumed death, a single photo of you and Dabi began circulating through the underground, hinting at the nature of your relationship. To protect yourself and your child, you had to pay someone to stop the pictures from spreading further.

The photo provided answers to a long-standing question: who was the healer Dabi had been protecting? It identified you as the healer who had been deemed untouchable, but it also brought unwanted attention.

Word Count: 1.9K+ A/N: Sorry for any grammar or spelling errors. Previously: Chapter One, Chapter Two

You’ve already planned out the kind of procedure that would work best for Touya, since he needs an entirely new body. His current body is too damaged. There’s barely anything left to work with. It’s going to require massive reconstruction just to have a foundation to build on. The procedure will demand a large team and a tremendous amount of energy. It will be an uninterrupted operation, focused on keeping him stabilized the entire time. It’s going to take hours.

It wasn’t difficult to convince the doctors and nurses with the quirks most beneficial for increasing the procedure’s success rate.

Most of them you know from your residency years or from back in Shiketsu High School, where you went through the medical program. That program offered self-defense classes and the opportunity to accelerate into the hero course, allowing students to obtain their hero licenses if they wished to become both pro heroes and medical personnel.

Some of the others you met through your family members while completing your internship hours during high school and medical school.

Money can run the world, but connections often go further than money ever could. You’ve already checked with Enji to see what kind of budget he has, and you’re not surprised by the number of zeros in the account.

As tempting as it is to max out that budget, you’re not the kind of person to exploit someone’s money like that. The team you’ve gathered does expect compensation, but many are willing to participate for the sake of the medical study. They know full well that their client intel is going to skyrocket because of it.

However, the update you’ve just received from the hospital where Touya is staying is concerning. He hasn’t shown any signs of improvement, and worse, he hasn’t spoken a word in weeks.

He’s not just stagnant but declining. His body is showing more and more signs of shutting down.

You’ve already asked the team you assembled to remain on standby for the following two weeks.

The main reason why you wanted the Todoroki family to get even one word from Touya is that it would prove that he is semi-conscious. His mind is still there before doing the long, risky procedure. It would be worth nothing if he isn't conscious. 

When you were going to review Touya's binder to make sure that you had everything in place to receive a text message from the preschool that your son was attending.

It was expensive but worth every penny to have peace of mind seeing the security guards are retired heroes and having a good curriculum. It was a preschool for heroes or higher-level individuals to have top-notch security.

It was a picture of him laughing and playing with the other kids. 

You couldn't help but have a small smile climb up your lips seeing his smile being similar to Touya's. He could very well be the doppelganger of Touya and almost look identical to him, according to the media pictures. Pictures of the paparazzi of toddler Touya with Enji years ago. 

Yet there is a small difference. Renji has heterochromia like Touya's younger brother, Shouto, one eye (eye color) and the other turquoise. His hair is currently predominantly red, streaked with random patches of white. 

However, he was born with solely white hair, which was already a dominant genetic trait within your family, particularly your father's side, and you were able to trace it back to your great-grandmother's roots. It is one of the biggest detectors of their quirk that will be related to energy or healing.

It was already predetermined by the obstetrician that he will most likely inherit your quirk due to the malfunction that you have been experiencing and are unable to control your quirk. 

Renji wasn't planned at all. He came as a surprise to you. that you didn't even realize that you were pregnant until the incident in Jaku City. 

Your quirk started acting weird with the last patient of the day, before it started to malfunction to the point that you had to stand back because you couldn't control it. You didn't want to accidentally harm or, worse, kill the patient, who was Hawks.

After that, you had to get yourself checked out while psyching yourself that …

Perhaps you are stressing yourself out.

Perhaps you are overworking yourself. You did heal numerous people before Hawks.

But deep down, there was always the possibility of pregnancy. 

The only explanation why your quirk could malfunction and be difficult to control is because it didn't feel like yours. There are always times that your quirk will malfunction if you are overusing it or attempting to use it when you are already running on low energy. It felt different a couple of times for the past 2 months.

You came out positive in both the blood work and the traditional pregnancy test.

During the ultrasound, you genuinely didn’t know how to react when the sound of the heartbeat filled the room. the steady rhythm pulsing through the ultrasound machine as it checked how far you were in the progress of the pregnancy. 

The solid proof that there was a life growing inside you... 

It hit you harder than you expected. You couldn’t hold back the tears, the overwhelming emotions crashing down on you.

It felt like the worst possible time. The war was already raging, chaos was everywhere, and the future of Japan seemed more uncertain than ever. 

But eventually, it worked out.

The last month of pregnancy was the hardest thing that you ever experienced in your life. You had to isolate yourself at work and do paperwork duty. You weren't able to use your quirk due to not having any control over it at all. Your body was completely overflowing with energy, causing anyone who touched you to get healed if they had injuries or were previously exhausted. 

You were an emotional wreck after seeing the public announcement of the status of Touya. You were mourning over Touya. He was declared dead by his father to the media, who were hounding the family for information. 

At the very least, you had a believable excuse to provide to everyone on why you were emotional. Blaming your pregnancy when it wasn't the truth. Anything that reminds you of Touya makes you burst into tears like a crybaby. 

Even though Renji shares many of Touya’s features, you’ve never once regretted having him. You love him with your whole being. He’s the last physical piece of Touya you have, aside from the gifts he once gave you.

You had already made peace with raising him as a single mother. You weren't ever planning to get back in the dating pool anytime soon, not until Renji was in university. Your job will provide enough money to support Renji and yourself. 

Despite having 5 years to progress and move on, you couldn't erase 8 years of memories with Touya. The good and the bad. 

You were still unsure how to feel about the possibility of Touya being alive, but you had already decided that. 

If he followed through with the action plan his brother had made for him, you would always leave the door open for him to be a part of Renji’s life.

That’s if he survives the intensive procedure or, at the very least, shows signs of consciousness. ______________________________________________

Meanwhile in the facility, everyone within the Todoroki family has asked the same question to get the response that they need to proceed with the procedure.

No one has ever been able to get a response from him. Rei wanted to try one last thing before completely losing hope. 

Rei has been keeping something to herself and trying to process what she saw in the grocery store just a few weeks ago.

The young boy had similar features and looked at Touya when he was younger, wearing a child leash that was dinosaur-themed. The boy was clutching a hero plushie against his chest with a giant grin coming out of the store that held hero merch. 

A grin that made Rei envision a young Touya standing right where the boy stood.

She wouldn't be thinking this much about it if it weren't for the boy to have heterochromia like Shouto and the way that red hair had patches of white. It looked identical to his hair when Touya's quirk was rejecting his body, causing his bright red hair to slowly turn into white. 

No one truly knows who Touya was. The furthest memories anyone has of him are from his early teenage years. The rare, brief conversations they manage to get from him aren’t nearly enough to understand the person he became.

The only words he managed to push out that he wanted to live came when Fuyumi was talking about her children. She had shared their names, their little personalities, and the dynamic they had as siblings.

"Touya?" Rei spoke softly, but the heart rate monitor remained steady.

"Do you have a family outside of us?" 

The change of heartbeat was shown on the heart monitor for the first time in a long time. Touya opens his eyes to stare at his mother within his confinement. He is conscious and listening to her. 

"Is that why you said you wanted to live?" Rei continued, seeing the heartbeat was showing something other than the steady heartbeat. 

"When Fuyumi spoke about her family… was it because you know you have family out there?"

There was silence being filled with the machines that are keeping him alive. The soft beeps from the heart monitor showed his heartbeat. The monitors were showing more movements than ever, which Rei was starting to get concerned about. 

Thankfully the machines had sent out an alert to one of the nurses that is taking care of Touya about his vitals. 

A mouse mutant nurse peeks through the door, "I am sorry to be interrupted; I just have to check everything is okay. His vitals are showing abnormal—"

"Yes." 

It was the clearest response that Nurse and Rei have heard in years. 

But the weight of the question triggered something deep within him. The flood of memories of you throughout the years and the strain of forcing himself to speak after so long of silence. 

It was too much. 

His body could no longer handle it, triggering every vital machine to start beeping aggressively. The spike of his heart and blood pressure skyrocketed dangerously before dropping aggressively.

More nurses and doctors burst through those same doors, screaming at each other. 

Everything was so blurred for Rei that she didn't realize that she was escorted out of the room that Touya resided in. She could hear one of the doctors behind the door screaming.

"Someone get Doctor Remedy on the phone now! It's either we do it today or never!"

Doctors have repeatedly told all the Todoroki family to avoid any stressful or emotional change questions. Anything that could send his heartbeat spiraling out of control.

She didn't know that question would have sent Touya's body into overdrive. 

It was an innocent question that came out of pure curiosity. 

She wasn't expecting it to be true. It could have been a random child who reminded her of her children. 

The weight of knowing that it was her fault for asking that question of sending her son into a medical crisis. She once again failed her son. The realization settled in knowing there was a possibility of a family that has been waiting for him to come back home. 

And yet, all this time, he had been trapped here, fading away with time.

It was too much to bear. Her knees buckled as the sobs overtook her.

She had failed Touya again. _____________ Comments are appreciated! 😊

Next Chapter 4

[yukipri]

Clone File: Morbs (YukiPri OC)

Basic info:

Name: Morbs Number Designation: CC-4413 Generation: 1 (0.9) Rank/Title: Chief Mortician of the GAR, Kamino Chief Mortuary Trainer (former) GAR Affiliation: Entire GAR, primarily stationed with the 212th Attack Battalion Character status: YukiPri Original Character

Disclaimer: Morbs' story will likely make more sense if you've read The Prime Override, as he's introduced with context in this fic. He will also make more sense if you've read about the other 2 clone medics mentioned in this file, Ashe and Stabber.

Backstory beneath cut!

Overview:

Clone morticians are specialists even among medics. Every clone medic knows the basics of how to care for the deceased, but in war, priority must always go to the living. As such, it is common to find only one clone mortician per star destroyer or permanent GAR base, with greater numbers stationed in Tipoca City or various Republic medical centers.

Morbs, or CC-4413, is considered the Chief of this group of medical specialists. He is the originator of the division, and was assigned to develop both the position and the training curriculum of clone morticians in tandem with Ashe’s primary medical training.

Prior to the start of the Clone Wars and through the early war period, Morbs oversaw the Tipoca City Primary Clone Morgue, which processed all clone bodies. There, he managed biopsies, distribution of cadavers, and the care and processing of all of the bodies of his deceased brothers. He also trained other clone morticians who had completed general medical training prerequisites and were approved by Ashe, as well as future Chief Medical Officers who were required to have completed hands-on training time in the morgue to earn their certifications.

Morbs would have been content to remain in this morgue for life, but as the main body of the GAR prepared for deployment, it became clear that the number of bodies being processed on Kamino would plummet. Morbs was reassigned to the front lines, where his expertise would see more active use, leaving his morgue behind in the hands of his assistants. He primarily travels with the 212th Attack Battalion, but frequently visits medical centers and goes where he is needed.

Background:

Morbs was one of five Generation 0.9 CCs selected by Nala Se to begin the development of the clone medical track. While all subsequent medics are CTs, the Generation 0.9 CCs underwent manual age acceleration, putting them physically ahead of their Generation 1 peers in chronological age. Morbs and his fellow CCs were test subjects used to establish the start of the medical specialization path before their younger brothers were of age to begin that training.

As CCs, they are overqualified for the general medical training that Nala Se is building, and Nala Se quickly turns to using them for other experiments as well. Their unique position as the first experimental medical clones gives Nala Se more oversight over them than any other clones, with far less supervision as well. They are “her” clones to test as she pleases.

In the depths of her labs, Nala Se conducts experiments that she had been banned from conducting on standard troopers by the contract with the Prime Clone, Jango Fett. Morbs later learns that these tests would be considered “torture,” and are illegal in the Republic. He and his brothers are tested for the physical limits that clones can reach, including tolerance for exposure to various stimulants such as heat or chemicals, as well as sensory limits such as their maximum threshold for pain. She also experiments with the potential for building up tolerance and even immunity to various drugs and poisons. She takes all of the data she gains and incorporates them into the medical training for the clones—thus, ensuring that her tests still fall under the scope of “developing medical training.”

Two of the five CCs perish as a result of these experiments. Ashe is ordered to decommission the third when he fails to meet Nala Se’s standards. This leaves Morbs and Ashe as the only survivors of their initial group. They cannot speak of their experiences to anyone else, as Nala Se is the only other witness. Not even Kote knows what they experienced. Between the two of them though, they can never forget that their senior medical positions were earned with blood.

Morbs has always been a quiet but keen observer, and knew from early on that Ashe has reasons for wanting to be in the medical track, and that this is a path that he’s chosen and is motivated to push through. Morbs is brought into the Ghosts’ plans relatively early, and having had the most first-hand experience seeing just what Ashe’s position entails, he wishes he could do more to help his brother. However, Morbs is also realistic, and knows that he doesn’t have the same passion and dedication driving him. He does what he can, but he can’t see himself being the medics’ leader that Ashe is. He feels guilty for not being able to offer to take Ashe’s place, when he’s the only one in a position who could. He tries to make up for it by loyally following him, and doing what he can as a supporter.

In addition to not having the drive, Morbs also feels he is cursed with misfortune. While he excels as a medic and not even Nala Se can find anything lacking in his record, most of the patients that Morbs touches seem to end up dead for reasons unrelated to his skills as a medic.

He’s assigned to oversee a group of cadets, who end up having a fatal genetic mutation that gives them all heart attacks while he’s on observation. The wing with patients that he oversees collapses due to an architectural problem, and they all die. He’s conducting a surgery, when the power goes out, and he’s unable to save his patient with the tools he has available. He tends to some brothers, who leave his exam room fine, but are killed in a training accident a few hours later. He’s assigned to take over a simple check up, and finds his patient already dead before he enters the room.

Every additional incident makes him increasingly uncomfortable with working with living patients. He knows he has the skills, but it doesn’t seem to matter, because most of his patients end up dead anyway. Statistically, it’s not impossible, but after a certain point it’s certainly improbable, and yet it continues to happen. Clones are rarely superstitious, as they have no cultural basis for it, but Morbs feels that there’s something absurdly wrong with the amount of death that seems to follow him everywhere.

He only feels that he’s safe for his brothers when working with those already dead. He can’t kill them if they’re dead before they’re even assigned to him. When Nala Se announces that a new mortuary sub-track will be added to the primary medical track, Morbs dives for it because he can’t think of a better position for himself. If death follows him, he might as well embrace it.

As he and Ashe are given more access to resources including those from outside of Kamino to help them develop their respective training curriculums, Morbs finds himself increasingly interested in not just the practical aspects of death, but also the more cultural and spiritual elements as well. It’s sparked by his own unluckiness and wondering if others have experienced the same, but is fed by his curiosity when he realizes that most nat-born cultures have different ways of processing death and grief that are deeply engrained in how they handle their dead. Nat-born lives are for the most part extremely foreign and utterly irrelevant to anything clones will likely ever experience, but death is almost universal. Morbs finds this fascinating.

The clones are brusquely told that they “march on,” when they die, as Mandalorians do. But why? Where do they march to, with whom? What is waiting there? If that is the inevitable eventual fate of all of them, regardless of Ashe’s or Kote’s efforts, shouldn’t it perhaps be Morbs’ job as the Chief Mortician to at least consider what happens after?

While Morbs has no answers for the afterlife, he certainly has many thoughts, which he shares with the silent cadavers who he works with. It seems like they can hear him, he thinks, for all that none of his words are spoken out loud.

While sitting in on a Ghosts meeting as they develop code words for their growing underground organization, Morbs mentions off-hand that their brothers who are dead, but aren’t, are, “Marching on to join Kote.”

It’s not his fault that their overseers failed to really explain what “marching on” means, nor really instill any true understanding of “glory” either. So if they choose to define it for themselves, with “marching on” meaning to join their other brothers (who may or may not be dead), and “glory” as fighting for their brothers, something tangible that they actually understand and care for…well. They are, after all, supposed to die for the glory of the Republic anyway. No one will question the language.

While most of Morbs’ brothers are exceedingly practical, and must be, Morbs finds his niche in thinking about the not practical. If having ways of respecting and mourning the dead helps all other sentients, why shouldn’t it help them too? Morbs experiments with how he thinks their dead should be treated, and the bodies in his morgue are, as always, his silent audience.

He grows to consider the dead bodies in the morgue “his men” in “his army.” After all, those who are also marked dead, but are actually just with the Ghosts, are also allowed to “consider serving” despite being equally dead on record. And are not the bodies that he repurposes to hide the missing bodies, the dead whose organs and limbs save the lives of their living brothers, not also serving their brothers? Just because they were unlucky, like Morbs, doesn’t mean that they aren’t still being helpful, aren’t still actively saving their brothers. Because that’s all what any of them want to do: help each other.

Morbs assigns himself their Commander, as he is in charge of them, cares for them, and directs their “campaigns.” The rows of cold lockers that house their bodies are “barracks.” He talks to them, praises their missions, and grieves for them when they finally march on to their second deaths via cremation, only after which they are truly gone.

While none of Morbs’ students go to quite the same level as Morbs himself in humanizing their deceased brothers, he makes sure that all of them leave his morgue with a firm understanding that even when dead, their brothers are still their brothers. Pieces of his ideology and treatment of bodies linger in all of the medics who handle their dead.

Morbs treats the dead as his men because he wants them to be able to live on just a bit longer, but admittedly that’s not all. It’s something that also helps with his guilt over not being able to assist Ashe in his decommissionings. He can’t stop those deaths any more than Ashe can, and he can’t even share in the pain of murdering them. But he can promise them, and can promise Ashe, that once their bodies leave Ashe’s blood-stained hands, that Morbs will welcome them gently to his morgue. That they’ll be treated tenderly, with humanity, and that their existences won’t mean nothing. That if they’re capable of it, Morbs will do whatever he can to ensure that they too can serve Kote before their bodies are gone.

Morbs likes to think it offers Ashe some comfort.

General Info:

Most clones have only ever heard of Morbs, who is extremely elusive. Even after deployment, he rarely leaves the morgue wing attached to medical. Whereas Ashe feels a complicated mixture of self-loathing and knowing that he’s unwelcome in other spaces because all other clones loathe him too, Morbs is simple. He likes being with his men, they’re his favorite group of clones. The living get plenty of attention amongst each other. He just is happier with his own men, and prioritizes giving them his own attention.

He’s eccentric and more than a little creepy, but his reputation means that many of his brothers are very curious about him. He has a strict “no one alive past this line” rule at the entrance of the morgue, with very few exceptions, so not even those who try to catch a glimpse of him while visiting medical have much luck. Spotting him outside the morgue is both like an exciting cryptid sighting, but also potentially a bad luck omen. Morbs is oblivious to the excitement his presence causes, as he’s usually just in a rush to get back to the morgue.

Morbs is so mysterious that only a very limited handful of his brothers knows how truly odd his habits are. He has an assigned bunk, but ignores it and sleeps in a specially padded cold locker so that he can “sleep in the barracks with his men.” He calls it his favorite bunk, and tells the other medics he wants to rest there when he one day inevitably dies. He will sometimes forget to take care of himself, ignoring his own living needs to eat, drink, exercise, hygiene, etc. until a medic, usually Stabber, drags him out of the morgue to handle it. Stabber thinks Morbs is an example of how truly unfair their genetic enhancements are, because Morbs somehow maintains his solid CC-class physique with essentially zero effort on his part.

Unlike Ashe, who wants to be out in the field, Morbs never wants to leave his morgue for anything. Once he has been relocated into the morgue on the Negotiator, he only steps out when absolutely necessary. He doesn’t want to see the sights of the outside galaxy, doesn’t want to see the people or try the foods. He thinks all air outside of the morgue that is not optimized for the preservation of clone bodies is distasteful. He especially hates heat, sunlight, and humidity, insisting that it will “cause us to decay faster.”

The one exception to this is if there is a morgue, funeral, cemetery, or something else death-related going on. He learned about other cultures’ death practices, and he’s admittedly still curious about them too, mostly in the context of whether there’s anything else he can do to improve the experience for his men. If the ship is planetside and there’s supposed to be a famous cemetery, he might be seen quickly slinking outside, face completely veiled to avoid exposure to the elements.

Relationships:

Morbs maintains a close relationship with Ashe, though it’s one he’ll rarely show in front of others, always maintaining a professional distance if they have company. But Ashe is the only living person that Morbs will seek out for company, always while Ashe is alone. Morbs is the only one who knows the extent of what Ashe suffered during his early training, and had experienced much of it with him. He is concerned about Ashe, but doesn’t offer medical help, as he feels Stabber does that enough, and he doesn’t trust himself to think of Ashe as a patient; that never ends well. He will instead offer Ashe silent company.

Morbs claims to despise Stabber, especially since he’s the one responsible for taking him away from his morgue on Tipoca City and forcing him onto a star destroyer. Because Stabber is the CMO of the 212th, prior to Ashe joining them, Morbs is forced to interact with him the most. Morbs doesn’t like Stabber because he considers the other medic, “far too alive.” Stabber’s high energy, movement, and noise levels all grate on Morbs’ preference for stillness and darkness. Still, he reluctantly respects Ashe’s former assistant’s skills as a medic, and will follow his orders.

He also won’t admit it, but Stabber was the one who gave him his name. Stabber had a habit of announcing that Ashe’s work buddy “has the morbs,” a phrase he’d picked up from one of Ashe’s training resources that he claims means “has emo vibes.” Stabber liked the sound of the word so much that he began shouting it every time he encountered Morbs, and it ended up sticking. Morbs pretends he doesn’t care, but secretly thinks it’s fitting.

On the other hand, Morbs has a surprisingly amicable relationship with the Jedi he interacts with most frequently, Obi-Wan. He was very leery of letting Obi-Wan come anywhere near the morgue, not trusting an outsider with his delicate men who are unable to defend themselves. However, Obi-Wan found Morbs’ ruminations and philosophies fascinating, and was easily able to bait him into a conversation by expressing interest. Despite being surrounded by war, Morbs often seems strangely detached from it, preferring to speak less about the realities of war and the gears that move it, and more about why various cultures frame death and the afterlife in certain ways. While the conversations are often melancholy in nature, Obi-Wan appreciates the strange normalcy of it, knowing that Morbs would likely have these same questions regardless of whether there was a war. Morbs likewise is invested in hearing about death traditions from an outside perspective.

While the other clones aboard the Negotiator were at first both morbidly fascinated by Morbs, they were discouraged from actually interacting with him because he says things like, “You should not be in here, unless you are dead. Unless you would like to be dead, in which case I can help you,” or, “Oh, well you don’t look like you’re dying. How unfortunate.” However, they gradually realize that Morbs is not as aloof as he first appears.

He isn’t opposed to speaking, as long as it’s about his men. They realize that while Morbs refuses to let any curious bystanders or unqualified personel enter the morgue for no reason, he’s always eager to learn more about those in his care. Clones who have lost brothers can always count on him wanting to hear about the deceased, and if they’re present in his morgue, Morbs may even allow them to visit. When the first clone brings Morbs some flowers, because he saw that some nat-borns planet-side were laying flowers by the graves of their lost loved ones, Morbs is tickled by the action. Clones are not granted proper graves, and those in Morbs’ morgue are still “on duty.” But Morbs creates a little sterilized shrine in a corner of medical close to the morgue, where he collects these offerings and allows his brothers to visit. If the tablet Morbs laid there is turned a certain way, Morbs knows that one of his brothers wishes to speak to him about someone deceased, and he slinks out of the morgue to listen to them.

Because Morbs is the Chief Mortician, he not only processes the bodies that pass in front of his own hands, but he obsessively goes over the reports sent to him by all other clone morticians and standard clone medics, who are in charge of marking all final fatalities. As such, he has the most comprehensive knowledge of all deceased clones. On the rare occasions that they are able to conduct larger, collective remembrances, if Morbs is available, he will often be called to lead them.

Obi-Wan observes that Morbs is acting almost like a priest or other religious leader, but Morbs scoffs at the idea. He has no intention of leading a religion; he just cares about his men.

And all of the clones will join his army, one day.

Appearance:

Morbs wears a modified version of the clone mortician uniform, a black version of the standard softshell white medic uniform. As the Chief Mortician, Morbs wears a longer knee-length version of the uniform, along with a black kama over it to signify his CC status. He also has a rank bar, and red shoulder pieces to show his personal training from Nala Se, like Ashe and Omega. He technically has armor, but he’s never worn most of it since his fitting, and he doesn’t plan on wearing it either. His men serve without wearing armor, so why should he? If the ship is ever boarded, he intends on going down with his men in the morgue, a plan that no one will allow him to follow through on.

The one piece of armor he does occasionally wear is his helmet, which is a black version of Ashe’s. He must occasionally process bodies that have been exposed to hazardous conditions, and in these cases, he’ll don his helmet for its filtration and advanced sensors. He is so utterly uninterested in his own armor that it was left unpainted, and Ashe decided to paint it black for him, so it can match Morbs’ aesthetic preferences. While Morbs never acknowledged the gesture, he shows his appreciation by not protesting when he’s told to wear it.

After leaving Kamino, he grows his hair long and wears it loosely tied back, because as a non-combatant, he isn’t limited to practical hair styles. The exact length changes constantly as he uses his own hair to create wigs and patches for any of his men who may have had their own hair damaged. He refuses to share his hair with anyone who isn’t dead.

He also gets tattooed, two dark lines dripping down his cheeks from his eyes. He saw nat-borns with the look in some funerary documentaries he watched as a cadet. He doesn’t know that what he saw was nat-borns with running makeup, but he likes the look because it looks like a trail of permanent black tears on his face. He takes it to be a metaphor that he is always thinking of his men.

Morbs also has deep permanent bags under his eyes. This is due to a mix of him constantly forgetting that he needs sleep, along with him not wanting to sleep because he has so many thoughts to ponder.

While he usually just wears his uniform, he has a veil that he throws over his head whenever he has to step outside of the ship or Republic medical facility for any length of time. He also has an ornamental headdress he’s fashioned for special occasions, such as when he has to welcome an exceptionally large number of men to his army, is conducting a field cremation, or is leading a remembrance. The headdress is created from shards of plastoid armor he’s had to pull from his men.

Note:

Morbs’ designation, CC-4413, was chosen because the number 4 means “death” in many Asian cultures, due to how it sounds similar to “death” in many Asian languages, including but not limited to my own Japanese/Chinese cultures. Tetraphobia, or the fear of the number 4, is a thing! The number Thirteen is an unlucky number in other cultures. The number “4413” felt fitting for this character who is so immersed in death and bad luck!

~~

Related links:

Clone File on Ashe

Clone File on Stabber

OR

Read them all on AO3

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!

❀ You can see the rest of my art through the Masterpost pinned to the top of my blog!

[stale-cornflakes]

Finally making a ref for this guy after tweaking his design for months on end.

Meet Benji! Or Chris if you're boring. He's a loud, eccentric and semi-competent 1773 Agent who strives to prove himself by working with one of the most dangerous units in the AAHW; despite ATP is meant to be accelerated upgrades rather than a long and arduous task he has made for himself. Unknowingly, he was given this position as easy foder incase something goes wrong with the moderation of such units.

Due to the large and aggressive nature of MAGs the larger units are prone to many health issues as well as separate training curriculums to accommodate. With this, Handlers like Benji step in to conduct the process of training, monitoring, and even guiding through fresh units through each step of the way.

His lighthearted and joking maner never fail to ease others and boost morale. Honestly, that's the only thing keeping him from being left for dead by his fellow agents.

Fun fact! Benjamin was a placeholder name & a play-on to WOGOT3's Benoît.

I couldn't actually think of a name for him until creating this reference

[gallifreyinstituteforlearning]

sooo. the untempered schism. they say some people are inspired, some run away, and some go mad. the latter certainly happened to the master, and all three likely happened to the doctor.

my question is this: how and when was that thing discovered? why and when did a tradition of plopping little kids in front of it start? seems pretty odd, though i wouldn’t know. as my friend says, i have a “startlingly similar mind to my simian ancestors.” (things are going great on that front, by the way. he’s jury-rigged some sort of space radio and is trying to make contact with a distant tardis while i distract the authorities. fun times!)

What is the Untempered Schism?

The Untempered Schism is a naturally occurring (maybe) rift in space-time located on Gallifrey, specifically in a crater called the Caldera near the Capitol. It allows anyone standing in front of it to see the raw, unfiltered Time Vortex.

The Tenth Doctor called it a "gap in the fabric of reality", which is very well could be, but it also could be more of an open wound.

🧬 When Was It Discovered?

The answer depends on whether you like your timelines neat or nightmarish.

One theory is that the Schism predates the Time Lords entirely—formed naturally (or by the mysterious Constructors of Destiny) billions of years before Gallifrey was Gallifrey.

Another theory states that the Caldera—and by extension the Schism—was created during the 'Anchoring of the Thread,' a key event during which Rassilon activated the Eye of Harmony. In the resulting metaphysical whiplash, creatures from another universe (the Yssgaroth) punched through, destroying the anchoring machinery and ripping open the Caldera, leaving the Schism as a kind of open wound.

So either:

It's an ancient feature of the planet.

It's a side effect of the Time Lords messing with things.

It's both. Because on Gallifrey, that's allowed.

👶 Why Show It to Children?

Now we get to the really sound educational philosophy.

From the time of the Dark Times onward, the Schism was part of an initiation ceremony for young Gallifreyans entering the Academy. At the age of eight, they were marched (in total silence) to stand before the Schism.

If a child failed to reach the Schism on foot (the walk was long, silent, through some pretty hot terrain while wearing thick ceremonial robes), they were carried back to live out their life in shame.

If they made it, reaction options included:

Being inspired. (Top of the class, probably ended up important.)

Running away. (The Doctor. Also several others, see below.)

Going mad. (Take your pick.)

Earlier in Gallifrey's history, this 'initiation' was more literal: some children were thrown into the Schism, which resulted in their physical form being 'splintered' across time and space, so you can see why the practice was phased out, wisely replacing being splintered across eternity with traumatising exposure therapy.

🧠 Does It Actually Do Anything?

That depends on your definition of 'do'. Some Gallifreyan historians credit the Schism with accelerating Gallifreyan evolution, claiming that long-term exposure to the Time Vortex nudged their species toward what would become Time Lords. This is all very noble and mythic and not peer-reviewed.

That's more long-term speculative biology than immediate function, though. Practically, it's a pedagogical sledgehammer. The Schism isn't about unlocking latent potential so much as confronting children with the scope of their future duties.

You see, staring into the Vortex through the Schism is the first time a young Gallifreyan truly understands what it means to wield time.

For a human comparison, it's like showing a human toddler a live feed of all global crises, climate collapse, death, war, the heat death of the universe, and then saying, 'Deal with it!'

🧒 Why Keep Doing It?

You'd think, after several notable figures went spectacularly mad, they might re-evaluate the curriculum. They didn't.

The ceremony survived billions of years, regime changes, and at least one apocalypse. Even after the Time War, Gallifrey was still hauling Drylands kids to stare into the Vortex.

🏫 So…

The Untempered Schism's origins are a little murky, but it's most certainly a cultural trauma engine. It may have existed before the Time Lords. It may have been caused by their first act of time-tampering. Either way, it became one of their most sacred traditions, because nothing says educational excellence like a psychosis roulette wheel for eight-year-olds.

Related:

💬|📱🕸️What does the Web of Time look like?: Overview on the Web of Time and its relevance.

💬|🏡🌀Do Chapter traits affect how kids respond to the Untempered Schism?: How your pre-programmed chapter traits may impact how you react to the Schism.

💬|🪐🚪Would the Untempered Schism still exist if Gallifrey was destroyed?: What would happen to the Schism in the event of Gallifrey’s destruction.

Hope that helped! 😃

Any orange text is educated guesswork or theoretical. More content ... →📫Got a question? | 📚Complete list of Q+A and factoids →📢Announcements |🩻Biology |🗨️Language |🕰️Throwbacks |🤓Facts → Features: ⭐Guest Posts | 🍜Chomp Chomp with Myishu →🫀Gallifreyan Anatomy and Physiology Guide (pending) →⚕️Gallifreyan Emergency Medicine Guides →📝Source list (WIP) →📜Masterpost If you're finding your happy place in this part of the internet, feel free to buy a coffee to help keep our exhausted human conscious. She works full-time in medicine and is so very tired 😴

[kaibacorpintern]

ive read the argument that kaiba would stay in school to beat yuugi at grades, but i don't really think this squares. i think kaiba would see yuugi's "D+ SEE ME AFTER CLASS" on his math test and laugh his way to the administration office where he files his "i am dropping out of school and you won't stop me" paperwork and never steps foot in a high school classroom again.

like i think he went to high school as some kind of boring formality more than anything else. gozaburo seems to have had him in some kind of accelerated curriculum of languages, social studies, business management, and judging by DM, STEM as well (and being some kind of STEM prodigy just makes sense for him anyway, no matter the canon; he designed the duel disk!) so in the end he's just miles ahead of any high school curriculum regardless.

in addition, "beating yuugi at grades" is like... a perpendicular exaggeration of his competitive tendencies. first of all, he knows and acts like he is the smartest person in any room he walks into. he shows no signs of wanting to prove anything in that respect. he does not feel the need to prove he's smarter than yuugi because he already knows he is. second of all, "grades" is not the same as "duel monsters." grades are, in the end, a measure of how well you can take a test. Duel Monsters means something entirely different to kaiba--it is connection, passion, a vehicle of emotion; it is rising to meet the challenge of someone else, through an antagonistic/responsive zero-sum card game, with your whole being. a grade is something you can earn by yourself--a solitary victory. someone else can also "win" at grades and it has nothing to do with you. duel monsters is something you have to play with someone else, with an outcome constructed via interactions with other people.

in other words: he dropped out of high school the end

[aerodynamic-acephalic]

ok so some world-building headcanons for the magisterium (because god knows they need it)

They used to use the American high-school education system, with Iron year as a gap year from education, to help with the transition to a magic school, and to prioritise apprentices gaining conscious control over their magic -

After the Cold Massacre, they started to use the Middle Year Program (accelerated) and the Diploma Program of the International Baccalaureate Program. I say "accelerated", because the MYP is for students aged 11-16, with the intention of DP ending at 18. So it'll start with revision of what they've learned at their old schools. This became the educational curriculum for almost all magical schools. -

The masters that don't teach magic don't usually have apprentices. It's no hard-and-fast rule, and many of them still have assistants, but this generally happens. -

The Magisterium does not have standardised testing, but they do have end-of-year exams. Magic levels are separate to education levels, so if an apprentice passes their Gate, but not their exam, they still learn magic of the next year wile repeating the education of the current year, and vice versa. The uniform apprentices wear represent the number of years they have been at the Magisterium, regardless of whether or not they were held back a year, but the metal on their wrist cuff shows what year they are magically (An apprentice in Bronze year who did not pass their Gate will wear white uniforms, but still have a bronze plate on their wrist cuff). An apprentice's education level is not visually shown. Apprentices who have failed either their exam and/or their Gate will still live with their apprentice group, but will learn their failed level separately to them. -

Masters can decide to stay in their quarters over the summer break. The ones who go back usually do so to visit family or friends. Otherwise they are either planning for lessons or honing their own expertise in their own quarters. -

Apprentices that do not pass the Gate of Control (Iron year) do not go home for the summer break. Their master is forced to stay as well. Legal guardians are informed of why their child is unable to leave the school, and are permitted the chance to stay at the Magisterium over the summer break in guest quarters. This is the only time non-magical people are permitted in the Magisterium. If the child passes the Gate of Control over the summer break, they can decide whether to leave or stay for the rest of the holidays. -

Apprentices at the end of their Copper year are able to apply to be an assistant. Through their master they can apply to assist with a particular subject (magic being one of them), and masters that teach this subject are given a compiled list and can choose to take an apprentice as an assistant, granted that they do not teach this apprentice. It's treated like (unpaid) work, and is often used to boost job opportunities, but they are still expected to keep up with their coursework. -

Makaris are generally discouraged from becoming assistants, because of their already increased workload, but they still can. -

All non-magical legal guardian(s) are made aware of the magical if their child is accepted into the Magisterium. This debrief is done just after the selection, once the chosen children have left, and the unchosen children are bound and escorted out with their families. This is also when masters are able to talk about accommodations and transportation with parents (see below) -

The push for disability recognition allowed for masters to make personalised accommodations, having both the apprentice and the legal guardian(s) of the apprentice in the conversation. There are guidelines and procedures, but they are not definite. The agreed upon accommodations are then bound between the master and any one legal guardian, with an assemblyman as a witness (think of something like the unbreakable vow from harry potter). The apprentice can choose whether to be physically present for the binding. Informal accommodations are common between masters and apprentices are common (being the only kind of accommodation during the first gen era), and do not require legal guardians, but other masters are not required to adhere to them. Addendums and retractions to this agreement are made in a similar fashion. -

Call and Al specifically didn't have the accommodations conversation with Rufus until Bronze Year, because of Al's outburst in the Iron Trial, and him being a suspected criminal on the run in Call's Copper year. Because there was nothing formal about Call's leg for two years, a whole buncha master either overestimated or underestimated what Call could do with his leg. Call technically wasn't in school for his Silver and Gold years, it was only used for a year at most anyway. -

Iron year students start a week earlier than other years. This is for the safety of the other students, and the sanity of the masters. -

The Magisterium has a school bus. It's used to bring the chosen Iron apprentices to the school. While the masters are debriefing the legal guardians, they can choose to sign their child up for the school bus. It's free and it's literally just a "yeah can my kid take the bus?". They know where to pick you up. Don't ask how. They won't tell you. The same bus picks up all the apprentices across America and heads to Virginia. It takes most of the day to get there. The bus travels a kilometre (or a mile, I guess) above the ground, but still drives "on the road". The windows show a view of the road as per normal. This means that sometimes the windows show the bus no-clipping through cars and running through every light regardless of colour, but that's all part of the fun! It's not too noticeable but time in the bus passes a little weirdly. It feels easier to lose track of time in there. Legacy families usually like to personally drop off their kids. The bus also takes kids back home at the end of the school year. -

There are 3 types of quarters: apprentice quarters, master quarters and guest quarters. -

Apprentice quarters consist of 1 common room and 3-5 bedrooms (depending on the number of apprentices in that apprentice group). The common room is decorated differently depending how the master likes it, but they all have a fireplace (without fire, but always emitting heat), a carpet, a couple soft places to sit, and a large table. Apprentice bedrooms are decorated as per the apprentice's wish, but all have a wardrobe, a queen-sized four poster bed (with a roof. I've seen some without one), a chest at the foot, a nightstand on one side and an oil lamp on top. -

Master quarters consist of a bedroom, a common room, and a lichen room. The common rooms are much like the apprentice quarters, but are a bit smaller, with a few less seating areas. The bedrooms are larger, and though they hold the same essentials as the apprentice bedrooms, they also have bookshelves, several lamps hanging in the corners, a large desk, and a tornado phone. Depending on the expertise of the master, there may be maps strewn up. The lichen room grows lichen. Masters get hungy for a midnight snack y'know. Some masters use it as a supply closet for ingredients instead. -

Guest quarters consist of a bedroom and a common room. The common room is much like the master common room. The bedroom is much like the apprentice common room. If two guests wish to sleep in the same quarters, their bed is upgraded to a king-sized four poster bed, with a wider chest, a larger wardrobe, and a nightstand with an oil lamp on both sides. These rooms are given to assemblymen, alumni, and other researchers for the duration of their stay at the Magisterium. They are also given to the guardian(s) of the apprentices under specific conditions (see above). -

Assemblymen who stay at the Magisterium are also given an office. This office is like the master and guest common room, but also has two bookshelves, one for books, one for ingredients, as well as a tornado phone on the desk. -

Yes, Master Rufus has an assemblyman office and a master's bedroom/study. Yes, Master Milagros, along with other masters, had raised brows about it. Yes, Master Rufus fought for it anyway. Yes, Master Rufus has two tornado phones. They are both alerted when someone calls him, and one disappears when he answers on the other.

[mangionebabymama]

hiiii i was just curious — as u mentioned you're in college and i'm not very educated about the system anymore — if you had any insight about lu's uni life! (i had to drop out after my first semester years ago for health issues, would love to go back and be in an academic environment again but.. sigh unfortunately it feels like mid 20's is too late to start again, along with the risk of not knowing what degree would be right and it being costly — ahh sorry i'm side tracking) i know he got his bachelors and masters in 4 years with honours (which sounds like a crazy feat in itself) but was also wondering how that fit in with him also being a counsellor (?) ta (?) at stanford! i saw someone say he did it for like a year (don't quote me on that) so was curious how that side of things work, and at what year into his degree he did it! was it part of a program that gave him credits he could transfer back to penn? or was it something that cut into his degree time and was mainly for experience? another thing i saw ppl talking about is the amount of time in which he completed his degree, i typically thought a bachelors is a 3-4 year mark and then masters is another year or 2 on top of that, so how did he complete both so quickly? i could be completely wrong here so sorry for all the questions, and thank u for being such a big sis like safe space!

Hello!

This is the best insight that I can give you from his uni life:

So, first off, yes, he was a counselor and also a TA while in college, and these two roles were two completely different experiences that he had while at UPenn and outside of his time while in school. He was a head counselor for the Stanford Pre-Collegiate Studies, an academic program that middle and high school students can attend to learn advanced coursework in different subjects. As a counselor, he supervised the residential aspect for students attending the program and taught them artificial intelligence during the summer of 2019 while on summer break; he did this during the summer after his junior (3rd) year and before the start of his last (4th) year at UPenn. This had no affiliation with him going to UPenn; he participated in this probably out of his own interest. So no, it was not part of a program that gave him credits. My educated guess on why he did this was to first gain more and broaden his leadership skills, explore more with his computer science background, and add an impressive experience to his resume and educational experience.

Then, between his second and third years of college, he was a teaching assistant for an actual class at UPenn for about a year and a half. Now, I don't know if he actually received credits towards his degree as a TA, but it is very common to earn college credit by assisting with teaching courses, depending on the institution and program you're a part of.

And then about his Bachelor's and Master's degrees—yes, typically, a Bachelor's degree takes about 4 years to complete. On the other hand, a Master's can take about 1-2 years, although it can vary based on different factors like the program requirements, the enrollment type, and how fast the program goes. I don't know what the Computer Science program at UPenn is like, but he probably completed his degrees that quick because of either an accelerated or a dual-degree program, where the curriculum of your field of study allows you to earn both degrees in a shorter time at an accelerated rate. Many universities offer this kind of program for a number of different studies, where you can earn both a Bachelor's and a Master's degree concurrently within 4 years.

A little side note: I'm sorry you dropped out early because of health issues. I know that wasn't the easiest decision to make, but know that you did the right thing by taking care of yourself first and foremost. Please understand that you are never too late to start all over again, and it's okay if you don't necessarily know that you want to study first—at some point, it will come to you when you see what you want to do and what matters the most to you. If this gives you any sign of reassurance, I did not go to college for my first degree until an entire year after graduating high school. I decided to take a gap year. I was severely ill with a virus, and I nearly fought my last year of high school being extremely sick. When I graduated high school, I realized then that I wasn't ready for that next transition—I realized that I needed to take care of myself first before starting that next part of my life. I'm glad I did because I was ready when I finally started college. I know many people who are older than me who have either started school later in life, whether to get their first ever degree or their next one, whether it was because of a job change, family life, or financial reasons. Remember, do what you want to do and what makes you content in your life, and don't think you have to compare yourself to another person—we all have different choices on what we want to achieve in life, which means we may have to go about them differently. That doesn't automatically mean you're on the wrong path! 🤍

[antisocialgaycat]

do yall ever have maths hw and ur like what the fuck??? so u get out ur textbooks and look at the one for your year but it mentions the thing once. so ur like ok maybe its already been explained ill just look at the ones in the years below and its still not there. and then you look at the textbook for the year above you and its still. not. there. so you steal your older sister's and oh would you look at that its briefly mentioned. yay.

[bodyhorror-bimbo]

Re your post about high school English classes, what were some of the books yall did get to read. Did you guys read the color purple by Alice walker or invisible man by ralph Ellison? I’m very autistic about comparing different curriculums styles

I remember my sophomore accelerated English course best (derogatory).

We read Hillbilly Eulogy (regretfully), Glass Castle, and then like three different books on genocides i can’t remember the names of. Julius Caesar was my favorite book we read, at the end of the year.

[studynxiety]

I feel like a failure.

06/02/2025

Exams start in 12 days, and I know more or less nothing. I am trying, I swear I am trying to catch up, but atp, it feels like nothing is enough. I failed to meet the pre-requisite for Engineering Mechanics 1 so I have to do an extra colloquium with notoriously low passing rate to get a second chance and if I fail that, I'll have to wait a whole year to get a second chance. And if I don't finish Engineering Mechanics 1 by the third semester, I get kicked out.

And it's extra awful knowing Engineering Mechanics is more or less the only subject I studied for because I perceived the other subjects to be easier and now, my first test in 12 days is on Advanced Maths but I can't start studying for that in good conscience knowing I need to prepare for the EM colloquium.

I know this is the consequence of my own actions, and I do not know how to reconcile with that. I feel like I am on board a train with a broken accelerator rapidly heading to its doom. But I suppose as long as I don't give up, there is always next semester. God, please save me once more.

I really don't want to repeat any subject next semester because I want to get a job and start investing time in my hobbies again. I did nothing this semester because I thought I would need all the grace in the world to adjust to a new place and new kind of study curriculum, and god, is that an understatement.

I will call the student counseling tomorrow because I need all the help I can get.

Today:

1. Finished Chapter 9 EM I theory

Tomorrow:

1. Finish Chapter 10 EM I theory

2. Practice Questions from Chapters 9 and 10

3. Practice Advanced Math questions from chapter 1