#But we are going to build it

[candied-cae]

We're All Going Home, No One Left Behind - Way Back When

Here's Part 1 <- This is Part 2 of Our Family

Chapter 5/? - - - Read it on AO3

[1] [2] [3] [4] <- Previous Chapters - - - Next Chapters -> [6]

Word Count : 3,333

Summary : Join Stede and his interruptive listeners as they share and remember the day The Revenge's crew all met for the very first time.

(This is sort of a mini-chapter. I know it's not a whole bunch story progression wise, but I got my wisdom teeth stolen on Friday so I really just wanted to work on a fun little update while I finish up the next big one. And I wanted to headcanon how tf Stede managed to get all these people on the same boat. So sit back and relax for a casual, silly 3k about our found family doing the damn finding of the damn family. 🥰)

More OMFD Fics

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Once the crew received what felt like Captain Anne’s approval and promise to help them get back to their ship, they were all positively elated. Toasts of drinks, cheers, gratitude, and affection, they shared it all in their relief. They stood a better chance now of actually getting it all back. It felt possible again. Which was a comforting feeling because there was a second there where it didn’t. 

Once their joy and reprieve settled, and it felt like tomorrow was a tangible thing in their hands and not something they might lose grip of, Stede felt a call to remember. He looked around his crew, though it was missing two, and remembered the day he found them all on the port outside Bridgetown. 

“What’re you smiling about?” Lucius teased.

Stede chuckled as he took a sip from his glass,” Just… all of you. Being here.”

“That’s something to smile about?” Roach wondered skeptically as he looked around them at what was an arguably overcrowded ship, and it wasn't even their own.

“I’d say it is.” He refuted. 

True, them being gathered not on the Revenge and not wasting their days away doing whatever it is they managed to come up with… it wasn’t the ideal way they’d have been together. But Stede couldn’t help but smile while looking at all of them. He loved them incredibly so. Being with them felt more like being with family than anything he’s ever really known. How was he expected not to smile when it finally looked like he was going to be able to get everyone back together again?

“It’s still wonderfully strange to think that people I’ve known my whole life have felt like strangers compared to you all, who I’ve only known since the harbor.”

“About half a year back now, yeah?” Oluwande asks.

“A little more than that,” Stede corrected,” But yes, Oluwande. It’s not even been eight months now that I’ve known any of you.”

“So, you really did just slip into this sort of lifestyle.” Mark comments, emphasizing the ‘just’ because, hell, Stede’s still an infant when it comes to being in this line of work, isn’t he?

Anne asks,“ And you said you’d just gathered them all up the day you got your ship just because they happened to be around, right?”

“Well, yes-”

“How did that happen?”

Seems they weren't fully satisfied by the tale of the near mutiny and brushing over the life Stede left behind. Well, he did promise entertainment in exchange for assistance. And, not one wanting to disappoint their hosts, nor the kind to miss the chance to tell a good story, Stede smiled softly to himself as he began recounting the very day he met his darling crew.

“Well, the first one I met was Buttons…” Stede begins.

He remembers boarding The Revenge alone for the first time just before dawn that morning when there were barely more than a few people getting ready to start their day. He’d set down his bag and tucked away the model as he set on the prowl for the crew to manage his ship. He’d only gotten so far to lean over the railing to scope out the street when he sighted someone… interesting. One of the only people there so early in the morning was none other than Buttons. He was sitting at the edge with his legs hanging off the wooden dock, sharing crumbs of food with a seagull named Karl-

“I thought she was Olivia.” Sabine cut in, cocking her head to the side.

“Yeah,” Xi adds,” Isn’t her name Olivia?”

“Aye, she is Olivia” Buttons motions to the bird presently seated in a nest of rigging rope,” but back then, it was Karl.”

Sabine continues,“ So, wait- Did Olivia used to be called Karl?”

“Or was this a different seagull?” Emilio asks.

Stede answered,“ Another seagull.”

“Olivia’s late husband.” Buttons further explained, and though he was clearly trying to clear up why they've had more than one pet bird, the idea of seagull marriage he's just extended to them seemed to only confuse.

“Alright…?” Sabine accepted, though it sounded like it was more or less to appease Buttons’ waiting expression.

“May I continue?”, Stede asked before taking their nods as approval to go on.

Stede didn’t know him, and he had no clue how important this weird fellow was going to be in his life, but he had packed a few finger sandwiches with him to start his journey. So he elected to give some to Buttons and the bird. Buttons happily accepted the gift and proceeded to share it with his feathered companion. The sight of it was something very foreign to Stede, he’s never seen such a gentle and genuine kindness extended to animals in high society. Such engagements were usually raised out of the children who entertained them, so they might all just see creatures as measures of ability and status. But, here was this man, enjoying a pet bird for no other reason than to enjoy him. So Stede sat down with Buttons and asked about how he came to know and care for the pet. They spent a good amount of time together just chatting. But the sun had risen further, people began to flitter into the port, and so Stede stood up to continue his search. And the other man stood up with him. From that moment on, Buttons seemed to display unwavering allegiance to him. He’d never imagined that he would've hired his first crew member with a snack, but it worked out very much in his favor. 

“Then I found Oluwande and Jim.” Stede attempted to segue.

Until Llyod wanted to clarify,“ And you’d said this Jim was….” 

“One of the ones still on The Revenge, yes. But back then, you couldn’t hardly find either Oluwande or Jim apart. If you found one, you’d find the other.”

As more began to gather, he stumbled upon Oluwande and Jim. The two were slinking around together. They were looking all around, Oluwande was whispering to Jim, they kept their face angled below the brim of their hat. The display looked more than a little suspicious.

“We had good reason to be suspicious-looking!” Oluwande interrupted.

“Not that I knew it at the time!” Stede defended himself,” And I was getting to that bit, for your information.”

When he’d first seen them, Stede just assumed they might have snagged something that wasn’t theirs from the market down the way and were looking to avoid the local law enforcement. He now knows it was because Jim was in disguise and running from Spanish Jackie’s vengeance, but he wasn’t put off by his own assumptions. A little bit of thievery wouldn’t be the worst skill to have on his crew. And Oluwande had a nice face-

“Awe, you thought so, mate?” Oluwande broke off Stede right in the middle of his sentence with a feigned coy laugh to tease him. 

Stede rolled his eyes,“ Oh please, you’ve got a very nice face, Oluwande. But my point is that you seemed like a very sweet guy. Anyway-”

Oluwande had a kind disposition, and he clearly cared about his rather capable-looking accomplice, so Stede decided the pair would make a good addition to the team. Stede didn’t even have to offer much of a sales pitch to them. The fact that he seemed like a good guy who was hiring help and looking to leave before noon was enough for Oluwande to readily agree and drag Jim along with him. 

“After I had them in tow, I looked down the boardwalk and saw this one.” Stede continued with a wave of his hand to Wee John. 

The man was sitting on a set of crates with his club tucked under his chin propping him up. He was gazing thoughtfully over the horizon where the sun was still rising when Stede spotted him. Even seated, Stede could tell the sheer size of the man was impressive, so he was quick to think it’d be a smart idea to get him on his crew. When Stede approached him and he stood up to speak… he saw how truly massive he was. And donned with tattoos and piercings? The sort of expression he had when he furrowed his brows? That was a man people didn’t mess with. But he still had an air of… joy, one might call it, to him.

All the while Stede was saying it, Wee John was grinning to himself and looked like he’d be the sort to say “oh, stop it” with a sheepish swat of his hand.

To Stede’s delight, Wee John didn’t take a whole lot of convincing either. In all honesty, Wee John was nearly ready to agree the minute he realized Stede was an actual fancy man who was earnestly speaking to him and proposing ideas like “people positive management” and “luxury amenities”. And the funny, fantastical little man seemed like he’d be amusing, what with his frilly outfits and the giddy smiling and all his whimsy. It was nothing like anyone had ever seen in a pirate captain before. Then Stede said he’d encourage arson at every event it seemed fitting, and that was it. Wee John was in.

“After that, we ran into another pair having their own happenstance meeting for the first time: Roach and Swede,” Stede said with a nod to the two sitting next to one another.

The crew had grown to five if you counted the captain with them, and they were passing a restaurant. Stede was keeping his eyes peeled for anyone who seemed like the pirate type when two people burst from the restaurant doors right in front of them. Swede was first as he sort of tumbled right out of the doors once he’d swung them open, and just following behind was Roach with a handful of items. The Swede had fallen onto the ground, and Roach grabbed him by his arms and pulled him against the building to prop him up. When Roach lifted his shirt, they all saw the back end of a fork sticking out. No one ever figured out why he’d been stabbed before even breakfast time-

“Well, it was none of your business” the Swede argued with a cross of his arms.

“If you say so.” Stede conceded to continue.

But the Swede added a quick,“ And they started it.” before he could.

But the fellow loudly whined his Swedish phrases over his shoulder back into the establishment, and a few curses, also in Swedish, called back out in response while Roach worked. In just a few moments, they saw the man remove the impalement, clean the wound, and sew it closed. All with very minimal bloodshed. When they’d seen him run out in an apron, they assumed he was a cook, but his skillful recovery of this other stranger was cause to question just where his profession lay. And such skills would surely serve well on The Revenge. Stede started on his proposal to Roach, though he didn’t seem especially piqued by their numbers nor by the captain’s obvious inexperience. However, when Stede took the hint from the apron anyway and went over the sort of extravagances he’d had the kitchen stocked with, there was a certain interest sparked. 

Roach had just begun to pull his rolled cigarette from behind his ear when Burns asked,“ So wait- are you the chef or doctor?”

“Both,” he said simply as he brought a lit match to its end as it hung from his lip.

“Wh- how does one- Are the two skills not incredibly different?” the reddened fellow pushed.

After taking a draw from his cigarette and blowing the smoke away from the circle, he shrugged and answered,“ Meat is meat. Knives are knives.” which gave some of the strangers a worrisome shiver.

Anyway, Roach had never gotten to work with some of the expensive ingredients Stede was offering uninhibited access to. And the Jim lad they already had on the team looked extremely competent. Worst case scenario, that guy seemed the kind you could make a sneaky escape with. Thus, Roach signed on. And by then, the Swede seemed entirely set on staying with them. Probably because the accident-prone fellow didn’t want to stray too far from the sort of person who could handle his injuries and illnesses, or maybe he just liked the vibes. Whatever it was, Swede held his wound and looked up toward the captain as he asked-

“Me, too?” the Swede pipes in, putting on the same display as he had that day, wide eyes and a finger pointed towards his own face. 

And perhaps most people might’ve gone on ahead with their recruitment and not thought to include the man with the fresh stab wound he’d earned before it was even 7:30. Though, Stede was hardly like most people. 

“Hm, why not? You, too, you little Swede.” Stede repeats his response from back then. 

“That was how we gained our sixth and seventh. Though,” Stede said as he cast a sassy eye on Pete,” our eighth wanted to be a more difficult case.”

“What can I say?” Pete asked with a sort of self-satisfactory smile to himself.

“Well. I, for one, would appreciate a thank you for the opportunity after all this time, but besides all that…”

The band of pirates was quickly finding themselves growing towards the size of a decent crew when they came across Pete. He had that sort of classic pirate-y look and was waiting by the ships like he wasn’t sure which one he would board. Stede sauntered forward and asked if he’d like to join their bunch. Pete was far harder to convince than the others. He introduced himself as having previously been on Blackbeard's crew and asked a barrage of questions which all seemed to circle back to 'how does this guy compare to the legendary Blackbeard?’ Stede was honestly sure that Pete was going to end the conversation by saying that Stede could never measure up and he'd rather find a better ride with someone else. So, Stede chose to bid him a good day and began to walk away so the men he did hire and him could get to the ship with anything they had on them and have lunch before setting sail. But Pete ended up stopping him, saying he might as well climb aboard and keep the rest of them from getting themselves killed.

“You’re welcome.” Pete chimed it at the end, again looking so very cocky and pleased with himself.

“I asked for a thank you.” Stede reminded him.

Though it was clear he wasn’t going to receive one at this time, so Stede elected to move on,” Next then, came Pete’s little poet.”

Lucius raised a finger at the title,“ I wouldn’t really call myself particularly poetic-”

“Can’t you let me have a bit of alliteration? Fine, the little scribe was the next one we came upon.”

Stede wasn't exactly sure how many men he needed, but it was nearing midday, and he really wanted to treat his men to a meal before they set off for their adventure. So he figured, a captain, something of a first mate, a medic/chef, plus various levels of pirate-y-looking guys would be enough to get started. They started to head back towards The Revenge with his crew in tow when they quite literally ran into Lucius. Or, more accurately, the boy ran smack into them. Pete, specifically. He was looking behind him as he darted around a corner, they weren't exactly sure what he was running from, but he flashed them a grin and immediately began selling himself as a writer and artist if they could find the need for such a person wherever they were going. Stede did like the idea of having someone around to keep a record of the journey and his attempt to form a new kind of piracy without all the usual abuse. And the boy seemed alone. It's no good being alone. So Stede readily pointed just down the boardwalk to where The Revenge waited for them and told Lucius she was their passage if she pleased him. Clearly, she was indeed a pleasing sight, because Lucius came along with them to climb aboard. 

“I was coming out of a less than ideal companionship with someone and found myself without many options. Was even beginning to reconsider my pickpocketing days as a way to find funds for the foreseeable future. Hadn’t even mulled the thought over much when I saw the very person I was trying to cut ties with.” Lucius excused.

“All in all, I’m very happy we caught hold of you. Happier still that we hadn’t lost you.” Stede said.

“I am, too”, Pete hummed as he snuggled further into Lucius’ hold. 

“And finally, the last one to join us was Frenchie, also still on The Revenge at this time.”

Now the musician, he was a rather surprising end to Stede’s recruitment mission. They were all trekking onto The Revenge when he saw them. He was casually walking down the street, playing the harmonica like he didn't have a care in the world as they were loading up into the ship. He simply looked at them and asked where they were headed. Stede told him they weren’t sure. Frenchie asked if they had room for another. Only seconds later, he was walking up the gangway along with them at the end of the line, right behind Wee John, as they boarded. 

Wee John himself laughed remembering the moment. 

“What’s so funny to you about it?” Stede asked.

Wee John stifled his giggles down and explained,“ Well… never mentioned it before, but as we were loading up he tapped on my shoulder. Asked me ‘What’s this guy’s deal?’ He figured you obviously came from money, not just from your clothes but pretty much from everything about you, and so he wanted to know what exactly was happening with all of us coming into your crew. If it could really be for piracy.”

“And what’d you tell him?” 

“I just shrugged and told him none of us really knew what was up with your… everything, and that you were being completely serious about not having a plan.”

“What if he’d decided to leave, Wee John?” Stede exclaimed the question like such a thing was still at risk.

“Well, he didn’t.” Wee John pointed out,” He was happily surprised by all the musical things you’d had and later told me that he thought the ship looked nice and that her miss-matched crew seemed like the right kind to kill time with. He’d figured, 'why not see the same old same old with the likes of you lot and hope it was at least a little more fun this time ‘round?' At least, that's what he said.” 

“Then I guess it’s lucky for us you two became near-instant companions. Can’t imagine that hurt the efforts to keep him on board.” Stede sighed before clapping his hands together,” Anyway! That’s the tale of how the eight of us, plus our two dearly departed, came to be The Revenge’s crew.”

From there, they all spent a good portion of the evening running through everyone’s greatest and worst of their days on the water. They play a game called “raise your hand if you’ve been personally victimized by Calico Jack and his whip”, which results in Buttons, Swede, and most of Anne’s crew with arms up. And finally, at the end of it all, they tell Stede and his crew where they can settle for the night. Stede tells the night’s bedtime story of Sleeping Beauty: a tale of gifts, curses, grief, loneliness, true love, a dragon, and happily ever after. And while he was telling the story, it seemed that some of the Kingston’s crew were listening from right around the corner.

[endusviolence]

Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?

I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?

In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".

Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.

This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.

Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.

The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]

There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.

This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.

[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]

As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.

But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?

Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.

[plague-parade]

i feel like we dont talk enough about how distressing and disturbing memory loss issues are. forgetting what you were talking about halfway through a sentence, putting something down and instantly forgetting where you put it. having to reread one paragraph over and over again because by the time youve moved onto the next sentence you dont remember what the one before it said. always doubting if your memories of things are real, not being able to remember important life events.

its so incredibly scary, it feels like your mind is constantly playing tricks on you and you start to doubt whats real and what isnt.

“i forgot” is treated like a lazy excuse when it’s genuinely such a big issue for so many people.

[egophiliac]

(almost) four years in, and I finally had time to draw something for the anniversary! woo! 🎉🎉🎉

[loumandiel]

I feel like many people have a fundamental misconception of what unreliable narrator means. It's simply a narrative vehicle not a character flaw or a sign that the character is a bad person. There are also many different types of unreliable narrators in fiction. Being an unreliable narrator doesn't necessarily mean that the character is 'wrong', it definitely doesn't mean that they're wrong about everything even if some aspects in their story are inaccurate, and only some unreliable narrators actively and consciously lie. Stories that have unreliable narrators also tend to deal with perception and memory and they often don't even have one objective truth, just different versions. It reflects real life where we know human memory is highly unreliable and vague and people can interpret same events very differently

[braisedhoney]

fighting back? against who? they're so happy—they've been waiting for you.

you are wonderful. don't you know that?

bonus: they play sims together :)

[inkskinned]

crows use tools and like to slide down snowy hills. today we saw a goose with a hurt foot who was kept safe by his flock - before taking off, they waited for him to catch up. there are colors only butterflies see. reindeer are matriarchical. cows have best friends and 4 stomachs and like jazz music. i watched a video recently of an octopus making himself a door out of a coconut shell.

i am a little soft, okay. but sometimes i can't talk either. the world is like fractal light to me, and passes through my skin in tendrils. i feel certain small things like a catapult; i skirt around the big things and somehow arrive in crisis without ever realizing i'm in pain.

in 5th grade we read The Curious Incident of the Dog In The Night-time, which is about a young autistic boy. it is how they introduced us to empathy about neurotypes, which was well-timed: around 10 years old was when i started having my life fully ruined by symptoms. people started noticing.

i wonder if birds can tell if another bird is odd. like the phrase odd duck. i have to believe that all odd ducks are still very much loved by the other normal ducks. i have to believe that, or i will cry.

i remember my 5th grade teacher holding the curious incident up, dazzled by the language written by someone who is neurotypical. my teacher said: "sometimes i want to cut open their mind to know exactly how autistics are thinking. it's just so different! they must see the world so strangely!" later, at 22, in my education classes, we were taught to say a person with autism or a person on the spectrum or neurodivergent. i actually personally kind of like person-first language - it implies the other person is trying to protect me from myself. i know they had to teach themselves that pattern of speech, is all, and it shows they're at least trying. and i was a person first, even if i wasn't good at it.

plants learn information. they must encode data somehow, but where would they store it? when you cut open a sapling, you cannot find the how they think - if they "think" at all. they learn, but do not think. i want to paint that process - i think it would be mostly purple and blue.

the book was not about me, it was about a young boy. his life was patterned into a different set of categories. he did not cry about the tag on his shirt. i remember reading it and saying to myself: i am wrong, and broken, but it isn't in this way. something else is wrong with me instead. later, in that same person-first education class, my teacher would bring up the curious incident and mention that it is now widely panned as being inaccurate and stereotypical. she frowned and said we might not know how a person with autism thinks, but it is unlikely to be expressed in that way. this book was written with the best intentions by a special-ed teacher, but there's some debate as to if somebody who was on the spectrum would be even able to write something like this.

we might not understand it, but crows and ravens have developed their own language. this is also true of whales, dolphins, and many other species. i do not know how a crow thinks, but we do know they can problem solve. (is "thinking" equal to "problem solving"? or is "thinking" data processing? data management?) i do not know how my dog thinks, either, but we "talk" all the same - i know what he is asking for, even if he only asks once.

i am not a dolphin or reindeer or a dog in the nighttime, but i am an odd duck. in the ugly duckling, she grows up and comes home and is beautiful and finds her soulmate. all that ugliness she experienced lives in downy feathers inside of her, staining everything a muted grey. she is beautiful eventually, though, so she is loved. they do not want to cut her open to see how she thinks.

a while ago i got into an argument with a classmate about that weird sia music video about autism. my classmate said she thought it was good to raise awareness. i told her they should have just hired someone else to do it. she said it's not fair to an autistic person to expect them to be able to handle that kind of a thing.

today i saw a goose, and he was limping. i want to be loved like a flock loves a wounded creature: the phrase taken under a wing. which is to say i have always known i am not normal. desperate, mewling - i want to be loved beyond words.

loved beyond thinking.

[hermitcraftx]

i have a slur to say

[bluerosefox]

One in the Same

Hmmmm

Hmmmmm

So we know during the time Tim lost in spleen (his Red Robin run) and wakes ups next to the pit he almost believed he had been tossed in the Lazarus Pits.

What if

Now hear me out.

What if he actually was.

But what if instead of gaining Pit Madness, he unlocked his past life memories.

His memories of being Daniel 'Danny' Fenton and Danny Phantom.

And once the memories returned so did his ghost form and powers.

And as Tim sits at the bottom of the pits, crossing his legs and letting all his memories slide back into place he questioned what to do now. He pondered for a moment and hummed tapping a finger to his chin.

Maybe he'll play the Pit Madness card? After all Ra's chucked him in here to either turn him into a mindless rage machine he could manipulate or see what the Pits would do to a mind like Tim's. Or Tim could pretend to be a silent rage, a calm before the storm.

Well, Tim grinned his eyes glowing green as he stared at the surface of the Lazarus waters above him, he was very good at lying this life time around. After all he was Tim 'I can even lie to Batman and get away with it' Drake-Wayne and he did used to be Danny 'Commit to the bit' Fenton/Phantom.

He was going to have fun playing that fruitloop named Ra's like the cheap kazoo he was.

[sunlit-mess]

I can only take so much, but lately, they have replaced my reflection. And realize I'm just as bad as them.

[scribefindegil]

As much as I adore conlangs, I really like how the Imperial Radch books handle language. The book is entirely in English but you're constantly aware that you're reading a "translation," both of the Radchaai language Breq speaks as default, and also the various other languages she encounters. We don't hear the words but we hear her fretting about terms of address (the beloathed gendering on Nilt) and concepts that do or don't translate (Awn switching out of Radchaai when she needs a language where "citizen," "civilized," and "Radchaai person" aren't all the same word) and noting people's registers and accents. The snatches of lyrics we hear don't scan or rhyme--even, and this is what sells it to me, the real-world songs with English lyrics, which get the same "literal translation" style as everything else--because we aren't hearing the actual words, we're hearing Breq's understanding of what they mean. I think it's a cool way to acknowledge linguistic complexity and some of the difficulties of multilingual/multicultural communication, which of course becomes a larger theme when we get to the plot with the Presgar Translators.

[reasonsforhope]

"Expanding freedom and opportunity to millions

Over a decade ago, researchers, policymakers, journalists, and individuals and family members harmed by prisons and jails helped define American mass incarceration as one of the fundamental policy challenges of our time. In the years since, policymakers and voters in red, blue, and purple jurisdictions have advanced criminal justice reforms that safely reduced prison and jail populations, expanding freedom and opportunities to tens of millions of Americans.

After nearly forty years of uninterrupted prison population growth, our collective awareness of the costs of mass incarceration has fundamentally shifted–and our sustained efforts to turn the tide have yielded meaningful results.

Since its peak in 2009, the number of people in prison has declined by 24 percent (see figure 1). The total number of people incarcerated has dropped 21 percent since the 2008 peak of almost 2.4 million people, representing over 500,000 fewer people behind bars in 2022. Absent reforms, more than 40 million more people would have been admitted to prison and jail over this period. The number of people on probation and parole supervision has also dropped 27 percent since its peak in 2007, allowing many more people to live their lives free from onerous conditions that impede thriving and, too often, channel them back into incarceration for simple rule violations.1

"Absent reforms, more than 40 million more people would have been admitted to prison and jail over this period. [2008 to 2022]"

Make no mistake: mass incarceration and the racial and economic disparities it drives continue to shape America for the worse. The U.S. locks up more people per capita and imposes longer sentences than most other countries. Nearly 1-in-2 adults in the U.S. have an immediate family member that has been incarcerated, with lifelong, often multigenerational, consequences for family members’ health and financial stability. Yet the past decade of successful reforms demonstrate that we can and must continue to reduce incarceration. These expansions of freedom and justice–and the millions of people they have impacted–help define what is at stake as public safety has reemerged as a dominant theme in American public and political conversation.

...We have a robust body of research built over decades showing that jail stays and long prison sentences do not reduce crime rates. And fortunately, we have an extensive and expanding body of research on what does work to reduce crime and keep communities safe. The evidence is clear: our focus must be on continuing and accelerating reductions in incarceration.

Black imprisonment rate drops by nearly half

People directly impacted by incarceration and other leaders in the criminal justice reform movement have persistently called out how the unequal application of policies such as bail, sentencing, and parole (among others) drive massive racial disparities in incarceration. The concerted effort to reduce our prison population has had the most impact on the group that paid the greatest price during the rise of mass incarceration: Black people, and particularly Black men.

The Black imprisonment rate has declined by nearly 50 percent since the country’s peak imprisonment rate in 2008 (see figure 2). And between 1999 and 2019, the Black male incarceration rate dropped by 44 percent, and notable declines in Black male incarceration rates were seen in all 50 states. For Black men, the lifetime risk of incarceration declined by nearly half from 1999 to 2019—from 1 in 3 Black men imprisoned in their lifetime to 1 in 5.

While still unacceptably high, this reduction in incarceration rates means that Black men are now more likely to graduate college than go to prison, a flip from a decade ago. This change will help disrupt the cycle of incarceration and poverty for generations to come.

Expanding safety and justice together

The past decade-plus of incarceration declines were accompanied by an increase in public safety. From 2009-2022, 45 states saw reductions in crime rates, while imprisoning fewer people, with crime falling faster in states that reduced imprisonment than in states that increased it.

This is in keeping with the extensive body of research showing that incarceration is among the least effective and most expensive means to advance safety. Our extremely long sentences don’t deter or prevent crime. In fact, incarcerating people can increase the likelihood people will return to jail or prison in the future. Public safety and a more fair and just criminal system are not in conflict.

Strong and widespread support for reform

We have also seen dramatic progress on the public opinion front, with a clear understanding from voters that the criminal justice system needs more reform, not less. Recent polling shows that by a nearly 2 to 1 margin respondents prefer addressing social and economic problems over strengthening law enforcement to reduce crime. [In simpler terms: people are twice as likely to prefer non-law-enforcement solutions to crimes.]

Nearly nine-in-ten Black adults say policing, the judicial process, and the prison system need major changes for Black people to be treated fairly. Seventy percent of all voters (see figure 3) and 80 percent of Black voters believe it’s important to reduce the number of people in jail and prison. Eighty percent of all voters, including nearly three-fourths of Republican voters, support criminal justice reforms.

This is not only a blue state phenomenon. Recent polling in Mississippi indicates strong support across the political spectrum for bold policies that reduce incarceration. For example, according to polling from last month, 72 percent of Mississippians, including majorities from both parties, believe it is important to reduce the number of people in prison (see figure 4). Perhaps most tellingly, across the country victims of crime also support further reforms to our criminal justice system over solutions that rely on jail stays and harsh prison sentences...

We are at an inflection point: we can continue to rely on the failed mass incarceration tactics of the past, or chart a new path that takes safety seriously by continuing to reform our broken criminal justice system and strengthening families and communities."

-via FWD.us, May 15, 2024

[heynhay]

will you break and take all the words from my mouth?

[tsuchinokoroyale]

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[harbingersecho]

are we the sins we have committed? are we the things we have endured? [...] who are we?

[ref]

[iirulancorrino]

The Green brothers are doing effective altruism better than maybe 95% of people who identify online as effective altruists.