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system-of-a-feather · 1 year ago

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Full Integration, Final Fusion, Functional Multiplicitly, and General "Spirituality"

(Disclaimer: this is a very long post)

Heyyo, this is a bit of a hodgepodge of connected topics that I was thinking on this morning. For those that don't know, after like three months of being a really solid fused whole, we really decided that we needed to redivide back into our core parts to recenter, rebalance, and reorganize ourselves since our fused whole was loosing sight / vision of the "plot". We don't consider this "splitting" because we are still in - what we like to call "full integration" - and we don't really engage in much dissociation when we do this as the means of how we do this largely stems from the way we perceive, engage with, and view the concept of "self" and "identity." Our system highly values the mastery and art of a very fluid and ever changing sense of identity and self. This morning - thank you Chunn brain for batting our collective brain from the usual urge to get out of bed and get started with our day to give us time to really sit with our inner selves - we spent about an hour and a half and a small half hour nap just laying there thinking among ourselves and I wanted to share a few.

I think at the moment I am still mostly a fused whole and I had considered trying to go to Ray or Lin for them to write this, but it didn't feel right to go to Ray brain and Lin brain directly told me "Dude, this thought line started with Riku-dominant fused brain, trying to have someone else write it would be a disservice to the reflection. Let Riku or Riku-dominant fused brain do it, it's their thought." and you know, fair point. I think I'll use this post as a temporary "bye few thoughts" and love letter to our parts as a fused whole before leaving it to the individual specialists to do their things.

So introduction to this post aside, hello and temporary soon to be farewell before I choose to temporarily redivide into my main parts. Today is May 15, 2024 and I'm gonna document this a bit for when I come back whenever that is and kind of see if my fused-whole perspective and nature changes - mostly for myself. Online I go by Feathers, irl I just go by our chosen name.

I'm a (mostly, technically non-denominational independent, but most of my views and perspectives come from and align closely with) Zen Buddhist. I'm nonbinary vaguely transmasc (not really though?) intersex individual with the pronouns of they/them. I am extremely pro-endo and if I honestly felt like sticking around longer, I was thinking about writing a much more nuanced essay on tulpa-terminology discourse with my current reflections as a fused whole and as a pretty avid Buddhist but, unforunately, unless one of my parts still shares the same insight AND interest, that essay will have to wait for me to potentially be back (hey, Riku or Chunn might still want to who knows). I dunno what else to say, I love bird, Bleach, walking, driving, listening to music, video games, writing, art? I dunno man, I'm just me.

Documentation aside anyways, I gotta figure out where I want to start. I think I will actually piss my high-school English teachers off and start with the LAST thing in the title card. I might loose a lot of close minded white anti-endos here, but hey, if you are that close minded, then its your loss cause I'm just talking about late-stage recovery as a person with diagnosed DID that is considered polyfragmented. It's a fun conversation to have with other people with DID aiming for recovery so, if you're hell bent on hating people talking about plurality form a non-DID lens enough to disregard cool information, that's your loss. (Thank you XIV brain, crediting that to you for part of our goal today)

Buddhism, Spirituality, Plurality and Our Perspective of Full Integration

According to Buddhism, and one of the largest concepts and principles of Buddhism that we believe the most in and actively work to practice and cultivate the mindset of - is that the concept of "I" and the concept of a singular, distinct, and separate self from the world and others simply does not exist - only the experience and illusion of experience exists. I was talking about it with @quoigenicfromhell in DMs since they were interested in talking shop about Buddhism.

To save myself a whole effort of rewriting a discussion on how one can hold together the clear sensation of existing and being an individual with the idea and Buddhist understanding that the "self" does not exist, I'm going to copy a little bit of what I wrote in response to them. If it doesn't make sense cause its in a bit of Buddhist jargon, then oh well, I'm lazy, it's written for an audience that has done some reading and looking into Buddhist thought so RIP yall srry not srry (Thank you Chunn brain lol)

Honestly the development and understanding of holding those two things together (the non-self and non-existence with the clear experience of self and existence) is largely a lot of exploration on the understanding and respect for the experience without applying too much value or regard to said experience. Its kind of a hard thing to understand just based off of words alone and like all things Buddhism, its one of those sorts of things you really gotta sit on and explore in your own mental space, but like

The experience of self and personhood and existence is a denied concept in Buddhist thought, but its not a bad or incorrect thing, the experience of self and existence is kind of considered an inherent expression of life and the world and while its important to be cognicent that it is an illusion that can cause suffering and muddy an individuals ability to see Things As They Are, the experience and illusion of self is additionally an entirely natural thing to experience and is an important part of being able to, well, be

I kinda of personally perceive it kind of similarly to say a part in a system. Innately the part is not (at least in my experiences of systemhood) a literal entire separate being and thats an important thing to acknowledge for a number of reasons (life organization and direction, system accountability, etc) but its would also be incredibly foolish to completely ignore that the part operates, experiences themselves, and lives in the world (both inner and outer) as if they were an individual of their own

In the same sense that a part in a system can be seen both as an individual and a part of a whole / collective depending on what perspective and demands the moment needs. An individual can be seen both as the individual expression of a self informed by the arguably incorrect illusion of isolation OR as a part of the whole worlds expression depending on what serves the moment the best. I largely kind of see myself as part of a system that is the world much like I see my parts as part of a system that is "me". While the self may be an illusion, its not an experience that can be denied and it is an innate expression that in its own right can prove to be a great teacher So you deny the concept of a self but respect and revere the experience and innate natural expression of self

With that context in mind, while we do not believe in the concept of self and find that trying to seek out a concrete idea of a singular person and singular self in society is a source of extreme suffering, stress, and displeasure, we DEEPLY revere and honor the expression of self. As we see it, in a complete ideal and impossible the world would be in perfect harmony if we let the world express itself as it naturally does. We find that the experiences of self - in whatever form they take - are inherent and natural expressions of the world as a whole and to try to shape oneself to fit a specific image - may that be societally imposed or internally / personally imposed or a sense of envy or any sort of clinging or desire to a specific version / image of self - is a disrespect to the innate beauty found in the natural expression and a means of adding disharmony into the world.

As a result, our system and whole aims deeply, above almost all else to exist simply as we naturally would in any moment time to time. If we find that something we are doing with our sense of self is drawn and influenced too much on a "I should" or "I want" or "I wish" or "I hope" then we tend to pause, self reflect, and ask if we are actually existing in our natural state, or are we trying to fight against our natural state of self to fit into a self-imposed idea of what we "should be".

As a result of that, our system deeply values our flexibility, fluidity, and ability to change any aspect of ourselves, any opinion we hold, any identity label we consider, and our overall presentation in all ways and forms to a very high level. The desire to be consistent and predictable serves us little in simply practicing on "being" and finding the true and simply-run life that we want. That then results in why our system so casually flips around in system size, fusions, redivisions, how we refer to ourselves, etc. We find very little value in committing to labels and concepts and do whatever is natural for us.

Additionally, another large aspect of Buddhism our system deeply reveres and appreciates is the acknowledgement that there are "Buddhas" - or in less Jargon terms, potential for everything both internal and external to be teachers and guides into finding a sense of peace and simplicity in the world - and that it is deeply important to cultivating peace, happiness, and insight to actively always be seeking out the "Buddha" in everything and everyone. It's important to reflect, engage with, and talk with those "Buddhas" as they are the best and number one way to gain the insight that brings happiness and peace into life and removes excessive suffering and stress.

As many Buddhists agree (at least of the Mahayanan branches), everyone is inherently a Buddha because the world and everything is a Buddha. The only issue people have is that they can not connect, hear, and see clearly enough to be in that state due to a large number of human conditions - one large one being the aforementioned illusion of self.

Having lived my life as someone with DID and having gone through a lot of trauma therapy, self reflection, communication and coordination with my parts, and all that to the point we have reached functional multiplicity over a year plus ago and been able to hold a fully fused state for over three months, I feel like its a given to say that of ALL things in the world, the "Buddha nature" of my parts have been the best and most insightful teachers I've ever had. We revere each other's strengths and specialties greatly as each of us have taught the other great strengths, great understandings, great insights, and great appreciations that have collectively brought us so much peace and happiness. It's not to say any part is "enlightened" because each part is also deeply flawed and struggling in their own realms, but it is largely by working and talking and supporting one another and ACTIVELY looking to one another for insight and lessons about the world and our existence that we are able to reach a uniquely peaceful space.

For us, its an incredibly important practice - both for self care and in the art / spirituality of Buddhism - to regularly talk and engage with these specialized and uniquely-wise (and uniquely stupid - thank you XIV) parts of ourselves to gain deeper insight and overall understanding of ourselves and our place in the world.

In the same sense, it is why - despite being completely capable of operating as a fully fused whole - we regularly choose to INTENTIONALLY redivide into our parts. And no, its not us "splitting again" or even really throwing up any real level of dissociation / dissociative barriers. If anything, we usually do this through meditation and mindfulness.

It's a Buddhist practice, its not a mental disorder and its not stemming from the same mechanism's DID stems from. It might operate *based* on the foundation our history with DID stems from, but at this point in our healing, the way our system operates at functional multiplicity that is intentionally chosen to be that way AFTER reaching "final fusion" has a number of differences from how it operated before we reached general full integration.

Again, for those more familiar with the tulpa-terminology discussion, you might be able to see where I would have a long post delving into a highly nuanced and more middle-ground perspective of that syscourse from the paragraph above this one, but I'm gonna leave that cause I already know this post is long and it would detract from the purpose.

At this point, my system is mostly an "intentionally created one" to Western label standards. We personally do not see any significance or binary in plural VS singular people beyond it being a label some people identify with and not. Plural VS Singular is a false binary perpetuated in white, western, and european society and while I respect that perspective and view in a space that is primarily filled with white, western, and/or european individuals, I am going to firmly state that and expect you to give me that same respect. (and if you refuse to give me that same respect, then you are close minded and being very white / western lmao <- thank you XIV, again)

And so the other related but slightly different topic away from the more philosophical, esoteric, mysticism sounding topic of Buddhism...

Full Integration, Final Fusion, and Functional Multiplicitly

At this point, what we used to call "Wishiwashi Recovery" we kind of have taken to just calling "full integration" generally as a means of really breaking apart the suggested categorical and boxed binary of "final fusion" and "functional multiplicity" as our own experience and discussion with other systems at and near full integration have made us realize that the difference between functional multiplicity and final fusion is FAR more a spectrum than it is two seperate categories. Some systems stick to one end, some to the others, but the largest difference is in external and internal expression of the parts and less any fundamental or biological / clinical difference; at least not in terms of integration. (Note: Integration =/= Fusion; Integration is the general connectivity and accessibility of parts with less / limited / no dissociation)

It's a false binary to say Final Fusion or Functional Multiplicity and its why a lot of the "ones bad and ones good" syscourse is dumb. They're two heads of the same Doduo and they should be kissing. (JOKING, thank you Riku-Aya brain)

With that said, our system, as we've made clear, regularly and freely practices sliding and flying all over that spectrum as just how we like to engage with ourselves. We change between the two as we see fit and having spent probably like 9~ months in functional multiplicity and 3~ months in final fusion I wanted to share some pros and cons of both sides.

I would also like to put a disclaimer that this isn't meant to be "positives and why this side sucks" as much as it is the differences in life style according to our opinion and our experience. Both final fusion and functional multiplicity are absolutely WONDERFUL things overall and we love both states. If we got "stuck" in either, we would still be immensely happy. The purpose of this part is just to share certain differences in how we experience the two different ends. The Cons in these case are only "cons" relative to the "alternative" and not "to not ever reaching either"

Functional Multiplicity Pros:

A lot more clear and direct communication between parts internally that allows for a SHIT ton of internal banter, productive conversation about complex topic and perspectives from unique and diverse perspectives; the communication is a lot more intentional and a lot more in focus so its easier to properly sit and attend to the complex differences and sometimes conflicting directions

It's honestly just a lot of fun, not gonna lie. A lot more dramatic and extravagant expression + brain friends in a more overt sense

Easier to let certain parts of the brain take "breaks" - it's not the same as it is with not-fully-integrated DID but compared to Full Fusion, certain parts of the brain can "tune out" easier than not

More palatable to DID / OSDD spaces online

Easier to focus and use a wide variety of skills, interests, hobbies, and thinking patterns by simply just having a specialist part take their look at it

Generally easier to target specific boxes to look into as you process all the newly accessible memories and information from being highly / fully integrated

Final Fusion Pros:

Quick and a lot more inherent understanding of all parts on a general gut level without necessarily needing to fully think about everything and listen to every opinion and perspective; there is a lot more of an inherent understanding, trust, and awareness of the collective whole which makes decision making and seeing whats good for the system as a whole a lot easier

It's honestly way more calming, relaxing, and solid feeling. There is a unique sense of confidence, understanding, and trust within yourself and you have a HUGE arsenal of skills and interests that come from the combined parts that you've lived as

You are a lot more present and aware of your life and you actually get to live YOUR life and have all parts of yourself be engaged in life; no part feels really left behind or is caught off guard from having their brain partially turned off. The awareness is really present and engagement is so much more complete.

More palatable in real life and non-DID/OSDD spaces

Easier to simultaneously use skills from multiple parts at once; very much a jack of all trades all at once situation

Generally easier to integrate multiple complex and otherwise seemingly detatched boxes of memory and the past as you process all the newly accessible memories and information from being highly / fully integrated

Functional Multiplicity Cons:

Takes more intention, focus, and often time to get the same level of full understanding of the whole system when making decisions. It can be slow and it requires a lot more internal engagement which can make it harder to be fully present in life

Sometimes you can get what I call "lite" amnesia where a part was not paying attention and doesn't fully process what was going on / what is going on and so sometimes you get poor attention-driven "amnesia". It's small and easily recovered by simply going "hold up wait" and thinking back or asking another part

Harder to use skills from different parts at the same time; albeit definitely still possible and only "harder" relative to final fusion

Generally harder / requires intentional discussion between parts to integrate multiple complex boxes as you process all the newly accessible memories and information from being highly / fully integrated

Final Fusion Cons:

Less direct and overt bantering and discussion between parts (still present by the way, just less frequent and less overt). It can be a little less fun (still is fun cause they are sill there) and it can be a bit harder to fully see the extent of a more extreme perspective

It can be tiring and overwhelming to be aware and present so much for so long if you were accustomed to the breaks DID / OSDD tends to give parts

Easier to forget to use a lot of the skills and hobbies that may have been more niche to less-dominant and less-prominent parts; you don't "loose" the skills, you just aren't accustomed to using them as much so you can just kinda forget to use them

Harder to focus on a targetted recovered memory / information that you want to process and can sometimes be a bit overwhelming trying to connect a number of things at once

And this is all just to say that both are absolutely astonishing and great places to mentally be. The main point is that - for us - sometimes one state works better for us in the moment and another state works better for us later and that's completely cool cause - as aforementioned - the difference between plural vs singular is not a binary one for us anyways.

Anyways, I don't know how to wrap this up so I'mma just post it

Ideally today we will focus on cultivating our independent parts and return to Functional Multiplicity end of the spectrum so I guess tata for now

-Feathers

EDIT and PS: Anyone is allowed to add their thoughts to this so long it is in good faith.

#feathers speaks #functional mulitplicity #final fusion #actuallydid #dissociative identity disorder #syscourse #syscourse tw #tulpacourse #tulpacourse tw #full integration #buddhism #long post

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aprillikesthings · 1 month ago

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rant o'clock

Saw a new york times magazine article recently about ADHD that could be summed up as "OH NOES the number of diagnoses for ADHD has gone up SO MUCh there's no way that many people have it :( clearly some of them don't :( we're giving too many people medications!!!"

I admit I couldn't finish reading it bc I was so angry.

Like, take a look around you. Please notice how many people are wearing glasses at any given time. Or: think of what percent of people have had braces on their teeth (or needed them).

Now ask yourself: does that number mean those conditions are fake? Does that mean we shouldn't give people glasses and contacts? Do you realize how stupid that sounds? "Well bad vision is just normal in a certain amount of the population, so all but the 'worst' cases should just suffer. You need to get used to having bad vision. Maybe you should try harder."

I do, in fact, think it's entirely possible that nearly 20% of the population has ADHD.

The article (what I read of it lol) also mentioned how there's no cutoff point between "has ADHD" and "does not have ADHD" and like....okay? Yeah, it's likely a spectrum (just like, I dunno, bad vision lol). Yeah, the severity of your symptoms/how much they disable you is heavily influenced by your surroundings, the support of other people, how your parents raised you. That....doesn't disprove anything???

And don't even get me fucking started on the "some people actually have anxiety or depression" thing in that article. Do you know how many cases of anxiety and depression are actually untreated ADHD you fucking assholes. I swear to god r/adhdwomen has at least one post PER DAY of someone whose doctors insisted on treating only their anxiety and/or depression for years and years and YEARS with zero improvement, until they were diagnosed with ADHD and put on ADHD medication, and voila, their anxiety/depression improved nearly overnight. GEE. IT'S ALMOST LIKE IT SUCKS ASS TO HAVE UNTREATED ADHD.

I'm starting to get to a point where my opinion on ADHD medication (including, yes, the stimulants) is basically an informed consent model: Do you understand the risks of this medication? Do you think you could benefit? Okay, sign this form. Here you go.

"There's no way that many people should be on stimulants." Do you drink coffee/tea/energy drinks? Shut the fuck up.

I admit part of the reason I hate articles like that one, is that I know damn fucking well that what little ability I have to be a "functioning" adult is dependent on continued access to combined amphetamine salts (aka Adderall). I can't even switch medications; going from Adderall to Concerta (which is methylphenidate aka Ritalin) made me bad enough at a previous job to get me fired. Hell, I got noticeably worse at being a mail carrier when my pharmacy switched me from one generic to another, and I only realized it once they got my preferred generic back in.

So yeah, I get a bit worried and on edge when well-regarded news sources write articles about how too many people are taking ADHD medication.

(Edit, just in case, bc this has happened to me a few times: I do not want this post screenshot and posted to other websites unless you remove my username. Do not credit me. Seriously.)

#my posts #aaaaughhhhh

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amethystfairy1 · 1 year ago

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What’s your writing process? Like do you do outlines or just jump right into plot etc… I’m a young writer (14) and really admire your work and want to get better myself. Ty!

✨WRITING PROCESS✨

...

this.

this is my writing process.

OK TO BE REAL THO

Firstly, I don't do outlines.

I KNOW THAT'S BAD BUT I JUST DON'T

What I usually do is word vomit whatever idea I have for a fic into a notes file.

For example! Here's a little random nonsense I just copied verbatim from my notes file that might look familiar!

Tango and Z in sky, blue cracks, Z decides to drop a container with info and his phone number into the rift. He wants to talk to the hybrids, maybe he’s some sort of researcher, he went AWOL from the biotech Institute, something like that. But he is human. Then, tango finds it, or it is brought to him, because he is a direct aid to doc in the labs. Tango ends up deciding to call Z, and they end up becoming really good friends, but only over the phone. Have some fun stuff, where both Z and tango are getting a crush, but how can you crush on someone you’ve never even seen? Tango is freaking out, because he’s not the type of hybrid that can pass as human. he knows he’ll never be able to meet Z face to face. But Z is a little more determined that he gives him credit for. Also have X be a side character in the labs, voidwalker, something like that! Maybe Z is an AWOL scientist, and scar, picked him up to work in his hot guy lab, with cub.

This is the blurb that spawned the Zedango arc in TTSBC.

In case you can't tell I use the dictation function in notes because like 90% of the time I have ideas while I'm driving so I'll just tell my phone to write down whatever I'm thinking and then talk it out

So yeah! I do this, which I dunno is kinda like an outline? I do it for more or less all of my fics.

As far as other stuff, I think the best advice I can give about being a "better writer", which has to do with your question about 'jumping into plot' is to know about your characters and your world , even if you don't plan to share that information in the piece you are writing, or even like, ever.

It's the way you make your characters feel like people. I was actually talking about this with @honeylashofficial not to long ago! You should know why your characters make the choices they do, even if that information never comes up. You should know what they like and dislike and why, if they have traumas then how would those traumas affects them in small daily ways?

Jimmy in TTSBC grew used to being threatened for his wings, so now he has a love-hate relationship with them.

Tango spent a long time without a truly safe place to sleep as a child, so now he has insomnia because he has an internalized fear of falling asleep/being vulnerable.

Zed was treated very poorly at his previous workplace, and he had a terrible experience where his professional lifes work was torn to shreds in front of him, so his self-esteem is very low, and he tends to be very self-deprecating even in a joking fashion.

Cub has sensory issues that severely impact his mood because of his warden hybrid traits, so he typically keeps himself very low energy as a baseline to avoid seeming like he has mood swings.

Even little stuff like what characters notice about their surroundings! Again in TTSBC, Jimmy pays close attention to the weather and the sky, Scott notices people features and expressions, Cub has more detailed thoughts about sounds than he does about sights, stuff like that!

Also I'm gonna give ya the piece of advice no one wants to hear when they're just starting. Just write. Write a TON.

Write even if you only have half an idea. Write even if you think it's gonna be bad. Write if you have even the slightest smallest bit of a motivation to do so, just WRITE WRITE WRITE.

And I will say while I could just be one of the lucky ones, I have been posting on various fanfic websites since I was 13. And in all that time I can count on one hand the amount of hate/negative comments I have received. Over a DECADE of writing and posting and I’ve written and posted A LOT and I have only ever been met with kindness, excitement, and encouragement.

Also, the delete button exists for a reason. You curate your experience on these websites. Especially on A03, with the ability to reply to comments, you can make very clear very quickly what sort of comments you want, which ones you don't, and the vast vast vast majority will be people who are excited about your work and want to encourage you!

If you need a mood booster or some encouragement, you can find my old old stuff on FF.net under the same penname, Amethystfairy1. Just promise you won't come back over here and send asks laughing at me for how bad those stories are, ok? 😆

My point is, you learn best by doing. As you write you will get a feel for your characters, for how they interact and react, for what your specific writing style is going to be and what you enjoy writing the most. And write what you enjoy! Of course you should stretch your writing style, but also make sure you never feel like you're slogging through your writing, especially if it's for fun or creative!

OH ONE MORE THING! 👏

I HIGHLY RECCOMEND DOING A WRITING CHALLENGE!

Stuff like Whumptober, Febuwhump, Novemcomfort, AU-gust, or different fandom weeks that come up, you can find them all over tumblr! Try to participate in one of those and get in as many days as you can! It'll make you write a lot in a short period of time, and you won't have time to overthink it, which I believe is really helpful for finding your writing style and getting comfortable with writing and posting content! It'll also give you a connection to a community of other writers who are participating, especially if you plan to post your updates to tumblr like I do!

Whatever you do on your writing journey, I hope it brings you much joy, fun, and creativity! You'll create something beautiful, I just know it! 💖

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #writing advice #fanfic writing

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strengthofmayhem · 1 year ago

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there’s actually evidence that this is plausibly possible due to the functionality of choppers human human fruit (it seems to have granted him human speech) so i think it would be EXTREMELY funny to see an au where the nika fruit granted luffy an innate understanding of poneglyphs and the ancient language except nobody… QUITE… realizes what he’s doing… until nico robin finds one of his scribbly to do lists and very very very VERY VERY VERY carefully asks luffy who taught him to read and write

luffy: i dunno! makino tried but she always said i was doing it wrong [picks nose] [loses interest in the conversation]

garp isn’t around often enough to pick up on the enormity of how stupid this situation is, ace and sabo just thought it was a fun secret language— ace can kind of but not really write (a little) in it, has NO IDEA it’s a big deal, honestly the way he and luffy built up on spoken [whatever language this is] took a really formal version of a dead language it and broke it back down into something for casual use— they invented new swears.

nico robin is going to cry. for multiple reasons. sort of terrified horror, sort of unspeakable delight at a dead language breathed back into casual existence by this strange rubber boy.

just because he can technically read the poneglyphs doesn’t make any of his contributions to that conversation useful he’s sort of shit at relaying information across the language barrier.

#op tag #one piece

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hasufin · 11 months ago

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User

I was looking something up on YouTube last night, and thinking about The Algorithm.

Now, a lot of people rightly deride The Algorithm. Especially on social media it's this thing which causes the service to show you stuff-other-than-what-you-chose-to-see. It literally exists to stand between you and the content you're after for the purpose of extracting dollars from your eyeballs. From a user perspective it serves no purpose, it cannot serve a positive purpose, and the user experience would be better on all metrics by simply removing The Algorithm altogether.

But, you know, on stuff which isn't social media, there's potential value to the algorithm. This isn't quite realized, mind, but it's possible and maybe shouldn't be ignored.

When you're talking a platform in which I could reasonably be searching for, rather than selecting, content, The Algorithm can exist as an assistive device.

For example, the other day I was looking up "How to pull a shot on a La Pavonia". Note, for some damned reason my fingers consistently slip and call my new espresso machine a "La Pavonia" and not a "La Pavoni".

There's a lot of content. And depending on how you handle the search, most of it is irrelevant - or it's so specific as to not offer what I'm seeking.

In the strictest form of my search, there'd be nothing: I'm looking for a particular grammatical construction with a specific misspelling, and there's likely just nothing there. Moreoever, most of what I want is "How to pull a shot on a Europiccola" or "How to pull a shot on a Stradiavari" (specific models of La Pavonia lever action machines); I own an Ambassador Professional, which is even more obscure. So I might never find a damned thing under strict search.

But if it just goes "Well, two out of three ain't bad" I'm going to get "How to pull a shot on an espresso machine" and that's going to show me allllll this stuff for semi-automatic machines with in-depth discussion of grind size and tamping technique, and that's simply not what I'm after.

Which comes to the idea of The Algorithm as an assistive device. Since I'm not likely to readily come up with the specific descriptions of these videos, it's good that the algorithm connects "Europiccola" and "Stradiavari" with "La Pavoni". That it on some level knows "pulling a shot" in this context relates to espresso and not, I dunno, paintball.

This can go to a kinda creepy place, in that it might be able to - based on the model of me which it has - know that I'm an individual and not a coffee shop, and thus I'm very likely not looking for the commercial-grade La Pavoni machines with three group heads and a direct water hookup. Or, in theory, it could even be able to ask "La Pavoni makes both single-head machines intended for home use and multi-head machines for commercial use; which do you want to view?". And at one point some platforms actually did say "You typed 'La Pavonia', showing content for 'La Pavoni'. Show results for 'La Pavonia' instead?"

My point is, in theory The Algorithm can exist as a tool which allows humans to navigate what is functionally an impossibly huge sea of information. While pride may say we don't need this help, the reality is we definitely do. And this is not a bad thing.

The problem is not that The Algorithm exists. The problem is which master it serves. It doesn't exist to make the user experience better. It doesn't exist to help us find the things we actually want. And it's not being improved to perform those tasks better. Rather, it exists to serve the desires of the advertisers and the platform: to drive more clicks and more views rather than a simple view of the actual desired content. To put more crap in front of more eyeballs to extract more wealth and feed into the cannibalistic advertising ecosystem which increasingly degrades the actual function of the entire system. And there's a very, very justified hatred of this thing.

But we shouldn't forget that the underlying technology isn't inherently evil. It's a thing we need more and more with each passing day, and it was invented originally to meet that need; it is not bad, it has been corrupted.

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multiplicity-positivity · 1 year ago

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heya we're sorry to bother but we just want some like, advice? reassurance or something? so like, we're looking into an ADHD diagnosis cause we've got a whole bunch of shit going on thats interfering a whole lot with our Entire life. and that is Bad. but we're worried that if/when (HOPEFULLY when or i might go off my fucking Gourd lol /lh) we go on medication to help with it, it might effect the system somehow. like cut us off from each other more or like. idk result in everyone else going dormant or something

sorry abt the bother and sorry if you guys dunno how to answer, its no big deal if you cant. thanks

Hello. We are no expert on medications or mental health, but we do believe that medications can and often do have effects on the systems who take them. As for how certain medications may effect your system specifically, we cannot say for certain. Our own system has benefitted immensely from medications. The meds that we take improve our communication and allow us to maintain a more stable emotional baseline, which in turn makes it easier for us to interact with more vulnerable parts. It’s not perfect, and we still struggle, but we can safely say that, for our system, the medications that we take are quite helpful.

If you are an adult, you and your system get to make informed decisions about the care you receive, and this certainly includes medications. Even children should be afforded this right, but you may need a parent’s permission in order to receive a prescription. We would encourage you to speak to your healthcare provider about potential ADHD medications, and the possible health risks and side effects of each. It may be possible for your system to start a low dosage of a certain medication, and simply stop taking it if it has any unwanted or detrimental side effects that negatively affect your system.

Medications that affect the mind most certainly will have some sort of effect on your system. You may be pleasantly surprised to find medication actually helps your system and bolsters your ability to communicate. Additionally, many medications may take some time in order for their full effects to be realized, so if you do start taking a new medication, don’t grow too concerned if you don’t notice any effects right away.

Our apologies if this response is not useful for you. Again, we are no expert, so this question may be better directed towards a pharmacist, or at least a system who has experience with certain ADHD medications (which we do not). We have taken different medications though in order to find the right ones that actually help our system and improve our functioning. We wish the same for you all.

#medications #internal communication #dormancy mention

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teaandbatteries · 1 year ago

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Call and Response

Welp. Despite not having watched a Marvel movie in years, have a random Marvel fanfic that just kind of spilled out of me for no reason over the last couple of days, lol.

It's also a very different vibe from my usual writing for some reason. I dunno, if I'm being honest I feel a bit weird about it, like it's way more purple than I usually write.

Anyway, it was inspired (in part) by a little little section of the poem "Hydrophobia" by Sam Sax.

--------

Alexander Pierce sat staring at the laptop sitting on his desk. Next to him, an analyst stood with a clipboard, watching nervously at the way his boss's jaw clenched over and over again in frustration. On the screen, a video feed showed a cell holding the Winter Soldier and yet another team of medics and agents who had been sent in to subdue him, bleeding out on the floor.

Pierce scoffed, knocking the laptop closed so hard that it nearly tipped backward off the desk. "How the hell did this happen?"

The analyst swallowed thickly, looking down at his clipboard. "Um. Well, sir, he was displaying hesitation before making his assigned kills, so the medical team has been using depressants to suppress his empathetic responses. Unfortunately, he developed a resistance to them very quickly, so they kept increasing the dosage until, uh... Well, the dosage was increased too much, and now it seems to have caused some sort of mental break, sir."

Pierce scowled, rubbing irritably at his temples. "So what, then? We just wait until his resistance to the medication wears off and reduce the dosage again?"

The analyst took a step back with a shuddering breath. "A-actually, given his enhanced physiology, the medical team isn't sure his resistance will ever wear off..."

Pierce leveled a murderous look at the analyst. "Then what do they plan to do about this?!"

"I, uh, I don't... I don't..."

A knock at the office door came just in time to save the poor analyst from having to finish that potentially fatal sentence, and a young woman wearing a lab coat stuck her head through the door. "Sir? I believe I may have found a potential option for handling our Winter Soldier problem."

Pierce waved her into the room. "Explain, miss...?"

"Doctor Patricia Hardy," she answered, smiling politely as she crossed the room and placed the file open on his desk. "The Winter Envoy program may finally have a use."

Looking over the file, Pierce frowned. "Wait, there are other Winter asset programs? Other enhanced agents? Why wasn't I informed of this?"

She shrugged. "Because they were largely failures, sir. The programs were all ended decades ago. The only one that actually produced any surviving assets was this one," she explained, gesturing to the file. "The Envoy program was originally trying to produce a functioning telepath. They never succeeded; the closest they ever came was producing a powerful empath." She reached over to point at a table of data on the next page of the file. "She can detect and mirror the emotional states of those around her. Experiments also suggest that she broadcasts her own emotions to anyone nearby, causing others to feel as she does. If we can ensure that she feels calm and compliant, and then we send her into the cell with the Winter Soldier..."

He nodded slowly, drawing out the first few words of the sentence as he considered all idea. "Yes, yes this could work. How long before we can have her ready?"

Hardy grinned. "I can have her out of cryo this afternoon, sir."

"And..." Pierce hummed to himself, looking over the file again. "You said they never found a good use for her? Really?"

She reached across the desk again, to point out a different table, dense with numbers. "Records show a few attempts to use her for interrogations. They forced her into a state of panic and then placed her in a room with the subject of the interrogation. It seems that part of the experiment worked, but the interrogators were just as affected as the subjects, and they were never able to figure out how to ensure that she only affected the intended subject."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "Sounds like they just lacked creativity. Well, in any case, let's get her prepped to handle this problem with the Winter Soldier. We can talk more about other uses for her later." He turned suddenly to the analyst, who was still hovering silently next to him. "Well? What are you waiting for? Go help Dr Hardy."

--------

I was still disoriented from the slightly nauseating process of waking from cryosleep. They'd injected me with something right after pulling me from the chamber - something that made me feel like I was floating just slightly outside my own body, and yet somehow also managed to feel heavy, like a false serenity was pressing down on every one of my limbs, leaving me sluggish and unbalanced.

The vertigo almost made me trip over my own feet as I was pushed down a dank hallway full of jail cells. I couldn't think, couldn't remember where I was. When the people wearing black masks pushed me through the door, all I could think about was how my fingers still felt numb from the cold of the cryochamber.

And then I was drowning in anger.

No, not anger. Not just anger, at least. The man in the corner of the cell was like a white-hot coal, radiating a vicious rage that can only be born of a deep, existential terror. He was an injured, cornered animal, with nothing left but a blind fury intended to take his murderers into the darkness with him.

Only, he wasn't injured. Not physically, at least. But I could feel the ragged edges of his psyche, shredded until it bled and scarred, and then shredded all over again, until there was almost nothing left. As the fog in my head finally began to clear, I began to understand who he was. What he was. He was like me - a captive plaything.

To the people who held us here, we were both nothing more than toys, to be broken and remoulded into whatever shape most entertained them today. And then put away, back into the cold dark, until they wished to play with us again. The shape of my scars might be different than his, but they were left by the same careless hands.

As I stared across the cell at him, I understood why they were so afraid of him. His hands were still soaked with the blood of the last team who had tried to force him into submission. Every muscle in his body was tight with tension, ready to lash out at any who came too close.

I wasn't afraid of him.

I should've been. A cornered animal was dangerous. But instead, all I felt was a kinship with him. I understood his rage, and I understood the fear that fueled it.

His gaze swiveled slowly around the cage until it met mine. The anger that lapped against my skin like fire began to change - imperceptibly, at first, and then faster as the minutes ticked by in silence.

Mine was not anger. What lived inside me was a cold hate, a placid glass lake no less dangerous than the fire because it was so easy to mistake for serenity. It was not calm - it was cold and it was bitter, and it would drag anyone who got too close down into its infinite depths to be drowned without remorse.

I see you. I know you. We are the same.

We'd both been people, once. Real people. Whole people. And then we were brought here and hollowed out until there was nothing left that made us us. Denied memories, denied personality, denied pathos, they'd taken from us more than just freedom. They'd taken our identities.

I could feel what a real life felt like, sometimes, from the staff around the complex. I felt the mild annoyance from one of the doctors when one of his children was late for school. I felt the little ache of heartbreak from the admin assistant when his date last night hadn't gone as well as he'd hoped. I felt the low, bubbling excitement of the gate guard at the prospect of her upcoming birthday party. All the little pieces of emotion that made up a whole life - a life I didn't get to have.

I'd had a life like that, once. So had he. And there was still an echo of our lost lives inside each of us, buried deep, even if neither of us could remember them.

I wasn't sure where the words had come from. It was a poem, or maybe a song lyric. The rhythm of the phrase said that these words weren't mine - that I'd heard them somewhere before. I had no memory of where. How I'd recalled them at all was a mystery.

there's a theory

that says you don't exist

unless someone calls

and you respond

But regardless of where they had come from, they were true words. Deeply true, in a way that resonated through the hollow in my chest, where my heart used to be.

Here, in this place, I did not exist. Neither of us did. Our bodies and our minds were assets that belonged to our captors. They were tools to be used. But I - I, the person, the human, the sentience that filled the mind and the body and the spaces in between - I did not exist here. I couldn't remember ever existing.

And then the silence of isolation was broken with a call and a response. I weren't sure whose was the call and whose the response. It didn't matter. It was the exchange. The recognition. I feel you. You exist.

This was Pierce's mistake. The act of sharing and mirroring emotion was not so simple or shallow as creating a general sense of calm. Oh, the Winter Soldier did calm - that much was true. The tension began to unwind from his muscles. His rate of his breaths slowed, and each inhale became deeper. He raised his head to meet my gaze, and his expression smoothed out of that twisted snarl into something more neutral.

But the emotions shared between us were nothing subdued or submissive. If anything, his rage ran deeper now than it ever had before. This was not calm. This was control. This was patience. No longer a machine of blind instinct, he remembered how to be human again.

And in return, he gave me fire. There was an old coal of anger that still lived in my chest. It had long since gone cold; what was the point in fighting to defend a life like this? But his rage was something worth fighting for. A hot flame sparked under my breastbone, coming to life once more under the bright radiance of his fury.

The cell door opened behind me with the sound of nails against a chalkboard. A man in a lab coat stepped inside, followed by two men in black riot gear with stun guns. The doctor was holding a needle, shaking in his trembling hands. Terror rolled off of him in waves so powerful that it made me feel ill.

The Winter Soldier never once looked away from me as the doctor approached. His eyes remained fixed on my face, holding my gaze with such intensity that it was as if nothing else existed - or nothing else worthy of recognition, perhaps. He hadn't looked to the cell door when it opened. He didn't flinch when the doctor pressed the needle into his arm. He didn't move. He didn't resist. He just stared until the two guards took me by my arms and led me from the cell.

--------

"I thought this was supposed to make him less dangerous." The guard to my left jostled me carelessly as he turned his attention to the guard flanking my right. It was as if I wasn't even there. "I heard the doc they sent in after the last meeting ended up with both his legs broken. And he was lucky the team managed to taze the bastard before it got even worse."

The right guard just shrugged. "I dunno. I guess it'll take a couple of meetings before the effect lasts after she leaves. Let the eggheads figure that stuff out and just do your job, man."

When they pushed me through the cell door again, I expected to meet the injured animal again, to feel that white coal of rage. He looked just as he had when I walked in the last time. His hands were not so covered in blood, but he looked just as coiled with tension, just as eager for violence.

Yet, despite what the guards were saying, I could feel clarity in him still. If anything, he seemed more controlled than he had at the end of our last encounter - no longer neutral, his control over his body language was absolute. The stiff, defensive posture were not instinct, this time. Was he doing it on purpose, then? And then, in response my confusion, I felt a faint, warbling thread of amusement from him. It was intentional. He was playing with them, misleading them. Convincing them to bring me back to him.

I want to see you. I want to know you. I feel real when you are near.

Yet again, I felt the spark of something within me that I hadn't felt in memory. And this time, it was something warm. Something good. Delight.

There was something delicious about the idea that the toy might have learned to play with his captors in return, even in such a small way. The warmth in my chest bloomed suddenly brighter. It wasn't anger - the heat was too gentle to be fire. And then I realized it wasn't mine: it was his pleasure at my approval.

Somewhere, buried deep under all the drugs, the obedience beaten into him, the feelings beaten out of him, the pain and the lost identity, I found the fragile shape of the man he used to be, once; the faint impression of a wicked wit and charm.

I felt the same mirrored in him - some vague sense of who I had been, once. It was small, hidden away under the layers of pain and loss, but undeniably there. Though him, I saw a piece of myself; a sense of justice that remained, even chipped and battered as it was, unbroken.

How long since I had known myself? It is difficult to understate the pleasure of knowing who you are, in even such a small way, after being nothing and no one for so very, very long.

--------

Pierce leaned back in his chair with a long groan, rubbing at the bridge of his nose. "So she does stabilize him, but only while she's in the same room?"

Dr Hardy winced and nodded. "And when he's alone, his emotional instability is getting worse."

"We should end this experiment now, before he gets even worse."

The doctor shook her head. "Well, no, I don't think that's a wise choice. He's nearly useless as an asset on his own in this state already, so the risk we take by continuing to try to the Winter Envoy to stabilize him is very low. I have a promising new idea; if we leave them together for a more extended period of time, it may help recover his long-term stability because his emotions won't be swinging so often between states."

Pierce glowered at her. "We better not lose the Winter Soldier over this, doctor."

She nodded quickly. "I understand, sir. We'll begin the next stage of the program immediately."

---------

Maybe one day, I would have the chance to ask him for his name. But then again, maybe he wouldn't have an answer. Maybe he didn't know. I didn't know my own name, either.

The guards and the doctors called him the Winter Soldier. But that was the name given by our captors. That was the name for the hollow tool they tried to make of him. It was not a name for him. And besides, it was too cold for a man whose emotions felt like fire against my skin.

We never spoke, not even when we were together for hours. It was too dangerous to risk one of the guards overhearing something that they didn't like. Besides, we didn't need to speak - the better part of communication was emotion, anyway. Words weren't necessary. Even if it meant I couldn't ask his name.

The cell door opened behind me. Tension crawled up my spine and settled easily against the rumbling, defensive anger that flowed out of him in response. He didn't know why I was afraid - only that I was, every time, in that moment just before one of the guards entered the cell to take me away.

I was afraid of one guard in particular. None of them were kind, but this one enjoyed being cruel to me. The others all knew, of course - how could they not, when they could all feel my fear of him? They didn't care. But despite their disregard, it was still always a relief to turn around and see a face that didn't belong to the sadist.

Except, today, that was the very face smirking down at me.

It all happened so fast. The little spark of panic flashed in my chest. Even had I wanted to hide it, there was nothing I could have done. The next instant, he - my fire and now my protector, too - was standing in front of me, blocking my view of the guard. There was barely any movement, hardly a sound. There was just the dull thump of the guard, suddenly limp, crumpling at his feet with a broken neck.

I felt his uncertainty in the silent moment that followed. He hadn't really considered what would come next, after he removed the threat. I expected that uncertainty to bloom into panic, especially when panic of my own began to claw its way up my throat, worse even, than when I'd seen the guard. What would they do to him for this? They would take him away from me. I would never see him again. Never exist again.

And yet, despite the way my terror hammered against him, he snapped suddenly into that particular sense of calm that come from the comfort of familiarity. The tactics of violence and survival were things he understood well. He was not afraid. My terror eased, just a little. I could breathe again. I didn't need my own certainty - I could feel his.

He bent down to take the gun from the guard's body. Then, after a moment's thought, he pulled the vest from the guard, too. Then he straightened, checked the chamber of the gun, and held the vest out for me to put on.

"We're leaving." His voice sounded like gravel, so rough from disuse that it was difficult to even make out the words. But I didn't need to hear them - he wanted me close, and so close I would remain.

The cell door hung open, and I had the sense from him that chaos would erupt the moment we stepped out without the guard. Escape. We needed a way outside.

Well. I could help with that. Down the hall, out of the prison wing, turn right, and find a door. Some of the support staff used it sometimes. I felt that heady combination of nerves and relief when they were approaching it, and I smelled the lingering cigarette smoke when they came back - a faster way out for a smoke break, but one they weren't supposed to use. It wasn't well-guarded, so it probably led to a roof or something equally inaccessible, but it was still better than trying to weave through the entire complex to use the guarded main entrance.

No one expected us to actually try to leave. The alarm didn't even go off until we were out of the prison wing entirely.

Six people. He killed six people on the way out, and never even broke stride. Death wasn't supposed to be beautiful, but he was. It was the way he moved. Every time I'd seen him before, he was tense, stiff, almost lumbering. I had no idea he could move like this. Was this what dancing looked like? It should be. He was a masterpiece of precision, control, and absolute certainty in his actions.

No hesitation. No guilt. It wasn't that he enjoyed killing them. Each time a guard came down the hall, there was a simple choice to be made; he could kill the guard, or the guard would kill us. It was never a question, and there would never be a regret.

Beyond the door was not an exit - it was a window. It looked out into an alley. We were on the third floor. The window was open, the sill littered with cigarette butts. Not even the clinging stench of stale, cheap tobacco could ruin the miracle of breathing fresh air.

I felt it, the moment he judged that he could make the jump. Standing next to the window, he turned to reach for me, but there was a moment of hesitation just before his hands made contact with my skin. For just a beat, I wasn't sure why. Then I realized with a start that he was waiting for permission. I almost laughed - as if I would ever refuse him, as if I would ever choose to stay here, no matter what he asked me to do in the escape.

He did laugh, then, once he understood the nature of my surprise. It was a short, rough sound - almost a cough. But it was there, and the current of amusement underneath washed over me as he swept me off my feet. Then there was nothing but air, and I was glad for the way the wind tore the breath from my lungs, or else I might have screamed and alerted someone. He hit the ground hard and stumbled a few steps before he set me back on my feet.

Escape. Out of sight. Hurry, so close.

He didn't let go of my hand. Into the alley, around the corner. It didn't matter where we were going. Only that it was away from that place.

----------

He knew where to find an old dead drop of cash. I found a generous soul willing to lend us a change of clothes. A quick white lie to the clerk at the hotel front desk, and now, finally, there was warmth and quiet, and there was a locked door between us and the rest of the world. It wasn't safety, not really. I wasn't sure if we'd ever really be safe from people like them. But it was something close. It was good enough for tonight.

And we were free.

I expected to feel joy. Elation. Giddiness. But instead, as the last of the adrenaline drained away, there was nothing rose in its place. Just a void that had been filled with so much fear and pain for so long that, now that they were gone, all that was left was an aching emptiness. Could I even remember how to feel anything with enough power to fill that hollow? Anything other than fear?

And so it was fear that began to crawl back in to fill the vacuum. Fear that I had been irreparably broken. Fear that, after all I had suffered, freedom promised nothing more than this suffocating, blank nothing in my heart.

But it was only for a moment. He caught my wrist and I turned to him: sitting on the edge of the bed, staring up at me with the same cold dread on his face that was threatening to choke me. The ratcheting rate of my heart slowed just a little. I didn't have to face the void alone.

Call and response. I see you. I know you. I feel you. I exist with you.

I felt the spark in my chest. That was source of the ember and the fire. It burned with rage when we were captives, in defiance against those who would snuff out our humanity. But now that the threat was gone, the fire was still there. It was no longer a furious defiance, but rather a desire for confirmation - I exist when I am seen, heard, felt, touched.

Touch me. I want to feel alive.

His grip on my wrist loosened. His fingers trailed slowly up my arm, leaving a ripple of goosebumps in their wake. It was only the barest of touches, but it didn't need to be anything more.

Maybe this desire was already there, and it was only now that we noticed it. Or maybe it really had only crashed into us in this moment, to fill this void of fear with all the sudden force that I felt as it knocked the breath from my lungs. It filled the hollow in my chest and didn't stop - his desire fed mine fed his fed mine again, until, barely a breath later, every inch of my skin yearned so strongly to be touched that to feel the empty air was almost a physical ache.

The next moment, he had me by the waist and we fell together into the bed, eager to kiss, to caress, to be made real together. Every sensation was so potent that each alone seemed unbearable, but to endure them together was a bliss all its own. Even the hot sting of lust denied held a certain gratifying delight, so we lingered in stillness, breathing each other in and reveling in unsated hunger.

It was pointless to ask whose passion first overcame patience - to do so would be to ask whose warmth was felt where skin met skin, or whose pleasure it was that brought us crashing over the edge, or whose sweat was left dotted and drying on my skin afterwards, as we lay tangled together and trying to catch our breaths.

It was ours. Always ours.

Even with my eyes closed, I knew he was looking at me. My cheek pillowed on his chest, I tipped my head up to meet his gaze; hooded, comfortable, soft. He was never meant to look at anyone this way again. This was a sort of victory all its own.

A smile tugged on his lips. "And I don't even know your name." There it was again - the shape of his wit. Less fragile, this time.

I turned to press my lips against his shoulder, muffling my laughter against his skin. "That's alright. Neither do I."

"Then what should I call you?"

I was in no hurry to answer. We were wrapped up, safe and lost, in the infinite hours before dawn. "I'm not sure," I answered softly. I trailed my fingers along the lines of his metal arm. I had not expected it to be so warm. "I've never had a name before. Not one I remember, at least."

I meant to press a kiss to the edge of his jaw when I looked up at him again. He knew what I intended the moment he felt the surge of my affection. He turned to catch my lips, pleasure and affection and amusement mingling between us. His teeth grazed my lip, pulling a whimper unbidden from my chest - and then another as I felt the intensity of his reaction to even so small a sound. The intoxication of desiring and being desired in return swept over us again. On my back as the kiss was broken, I was pinned to the bed by his weight as we fought to catch our breaths. Was it normal, such intensity from nothing more than a kiss? Or was this a particular luxury of us feeling and feeding the passions of the other?

I was surprised to find a growing ache in my chest, but I understood suddenly why he wanted my name. There was a nameless thing that needed to be expressed, and the only way to express it would be to speak his name like a chant, a confession, a prayer. Because it is you who I feel here with me. You who reminded me that I am real. You whose emotions fit with mine like two halves of a whole. You. You. Only you.

I wanted to know his name, whatever it might be for now. "What should I call you, then?"

I could feel the shape of his words brushing against my lips as he answered; "The only thing I can remember being called is 'Soldier'."

My revulsion was fiercer than even I expected. "That is a name for the tool they tried to turn you into, not for the man you are."

His gaze was soft as he looked down at me, and I felt the sweetness wrap around his heart at the hearing the contrast given voice. "Not even if I'm your soldier?"

"You're not," I whispered. "You're free. You'll have no orders from me."

"Then not a soldier," he answered, his voice a low rumble that I felt against my chest as he kissed me once more. "Just yours."

#fanfic #fanfiction #marvel #marvel cinematic universe #bucky barnes #winter soldier #bucky x reader

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chemicalcarousel · 8 months ago

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Found this system september thingy, guess we'll do it:

1) DID, OSDD, P-DID or C-DID?

Probably DID

2) Current alter count?

We know of 9 rn

3) Alter count at discovery?

3 lmfao

4) Finally Fusion or Function Multiplicity?

Don't care, we just wanna heal in whatever way is possible. Since we don't know if we can ever get the specialised therapy we need, we are just striving to function rn

5) What roles are you heavy in?

We don't use alter roles really

6) How's your communication?

Not amazing lmfao

7) Are you diagnosed, self diagnosed, or unofficially diagnosed?

I guess a mix of informal "diagnosis" and self dx? My last therapist/psychiatrist never said "DID" specifically, just that I had alters and shit. But I think I fit the DID criteria the best. Still waiting on a new psychiatrist tho

8) Are you in therapy?

Not currently

9) What alter type are you heavy in?

Uhh dunno lol. We don't separate our alters by type much and since we only know of 9 rn it feels weird generalising. Like are we fictional introject heavy if we technically have 4 fictional introjects out of 9? Are we syskid heavy if we have +4 kid alters out of 9? We don't know lol

10) Overt or covert?

Mostly covert in the sense that we can kinda get away with being "different" lol. But like... people notice that we switch, they just don't know it's a switch bc they don't know what DID is

11) Does handwriting differ?

Not much? Nothing we notice, but we don't write by hand much

12) Do others know of your system?

Yeah, we try to be more open with others, but usually we just say we have CPTSD if they gotta know about our disability for accommodation purposes

13) One thing you'd wish the community would accept?

Idk what's going on in the "community". I feel like there's not one community, but multiple different ones. I wish people would actually see CDDs as trauma disorders and not "silly people in my head" disorders, I guess? Like see alters as parts of a whole n shit

14) Advice for singlets?

Don't learn about DID and related disorders from tiktok lmfao. Also don't be weird about introjects or child alters. And please understand that we have a disability, so don't take it personally if we have symptoms of said disability, such as forgetfulness or flashbacks

15) Your go to thing for flashbacks?

Uh, isolate myself and just "surf the wave". Like I'll just remind myself it's gonna pass and I just have to survive the feelings for a limited amount of time. It depends on the flashback tho and uhh... we never learned how to deal with them in therapy lol

16) Your favourite educational accounts?

The CTAD Clinic on YouTube! They are a clinic specialising in Complex Trauma and Dissociation and they make educational videos about it on YouTube for both pwCDDs and therapists!

17) Any shared spins?

Uh, we think we might also be autistic, but we dunno if we share any special interests. I guess psychotraumatology might be a spin and I think multiple of us are interested in that?

18) A role you coined?

Uh we don't really use roles, but I guess we have a designated eeper lol. We have only a few alters who feel comfortable enough to sleep, so ig that's kind of a role? But they do other things to

19) Are you LGBTQ+ heavy?

We collectively identify as queer, but like most of our alters literally do not care lol. But I think all of us are aroace-spec and like three of us are gay in some way

20/21) Unpopular OSDDID opinion?

Idk

22/23) Other comorbid disorders?

Possibly autism and/or ADHD. Maybe a PD? I guess anxiety and depression too, but we kinda see them as symptoms of having trauma idk. We also have some OCD-like stuff, but like... not too bad idk. Maybe it's just the possible autism that looks like OCD. We haven't really thought about it much

24/25) Is your inner world large or small?

We don't have one

26/27) How often do you switch?

Idk every hour or so?

28/29) What's your stance on sourcemates?

You're not your source so who cares? Like the concept is dumb and anti recovery (maybe this is my unpopular opinion, but honestly dunno what's the "community consensus" on these things)

30) Share something an alter made

We embroidered this onto a cap I don't remember who did it but it's funny

#oversharing online is our fav activity #ours #levi here #yo its sof #actuallydid #actually did #actuallycdd #actually cdd #endos dni

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crystalninjaphoenix · 2 years ago

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Spitfire Cat

A JSE Fanfic

SepticHeroes AU: Part 21

First Part | Previous Part

Whoo! I've been waiting for this for forever! :D Jackie goes to confront Spitfire about the information he found, bringing the others along with him. And Spitfire finally opens up about his past and why he hates the League of Heroes so much. I'm so excited, guys. Gonna stop writing this author's note so we can get right to it :)

===============

“That’s... insane.”

“I know, right?!” Jackie paced back and forth in the apartment living room, right in front of the TV. Chase was sitting on the sofa with Frosty at his feet, eyes wide at everything Jackie had just rushed in to tell him. “If—if I was forced to guess at his secret identity, I would never guess that!”

“Yeah. It’s insane.” Chase whistled. “So, let me see if I’m getting this. This guy is the guy who ran into us in JJ’s shop the other day, right? You said you guys did Hero stuff together. And that whole time, you meant that he was a super villain you were working with.”

“Temporarily,” Jackie stressed. “It was a temporary alliance to deal with the Puppeteer stuff. I’ve never worked with villains before.”

Chase raised his hands defensively. “I wasn’t saying you did. Just getting things in order. Anyway, this villain really hates the League of Heroes, but this whole time, he was a Hero.”

“No, he’s not—not, like, being a double-agent or anything,” Jackie said. “He went rogue and then faked his death, and then became Spitfire Cat.”

“Right.” Chase nodded. “How long ago was this Phoenix guy’s fake death?”

“That was three years ago. Spitfire Cat showed up about two years ago.” Jackie rubbed his eyes. “It matches up. Timeline matches up.” A breeze fluttered through the room, flicking clothes and hair. “It all matches up!”

“Jeez, bro, take a deep breath or something,” Chase said. “Look. Does it really change that much? You already knew he—what was his name again? His real one?”

“Marvin Nedra.”

“You already knew Marvin was a criminal, is being a rogue Hero really that different?”

“I guess... not... functionally, but—but it really confuses me!” Jackie sputtered. “Spitfire Cat has always hated the League, and I mean really fucking loathed them. But if he used to be a Hero, then—what happened?”

“Hmm. Dunno. I guess he’ll be the only one to know.” Chase shrugged.

“I guess.” Jackie sighed and stopped pacing. “I gotta tell JJ and Schneep about this.”

“Why? You just said it’s not ‘functionally’ different.”

“Well, I should have told them about that guy being a villain in the first place! I should have let you all know the risks! Besides, I just told you, so it’s only fair I tell them too.” Jackie took his phone out of his pocket and started typing out a message.

“You’re gonna let them know through text?” Chase asked. “Isn’t that a bit like breaking up with someone through the phone?”

“No, I know this is big news, and I’m going to tell them in person. I just need to know when they’re both available. I’m putting this in the new group chat.”

“Oh hell yeah.” Chase grinned. He’d made the group chat the day before yesterday and titled it Windstorm Fan Club. Hilarious.

Jackie sent the text, and got an immediate answer from Schneep. I am at work for the rest of the day. Hospital until evening and then on call for emergencies all night. Tomorrow is the earliest I could meet for this “important news.”

“Hmm. Right. Makes sense.” Jackie nodded.

“It might be a while before JJ answers,” Chase said. “Why don’t you sit down? Stop hovering.”

“I’m not hovering.”

“Yeah, you are.” Chase pointed at Jackie’s feet. There was about an inch of air between Jackie’s shoes and the floor.

“Oh.” Jackie dropped to the floor. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be. God, were you doing shit like that often and I just didn’t notice?”

“Definitely not. I was being very careful. And you’re very smart, you would have seen if I’d been doing it. I guess I’m just not looking out as much now that you know.” It was nice, actually, to not have to constantly monitor himself.

Another text, this time from JJ. Tomorrow could work. Ned might drop by in the afternoon. He wanted to do something together.

Jackie stared at the message. The breeze in the room kicked up a notch. “Oh.”

Chase checked the group chat on his own phone. His brows furrowed. “Ned’s the guy who’s actually Marvin, right?”

“Yeah.” Jackie paused. “You know what? More than telling Schneep and JJ what I found, I want to tell Spitfire what I found. I need to know what happened and what the fuck’s going on with him.”

“Ah.” Chase raised an eyebrow. “So... the difference is to you.”

“What?”

“You found out some new shit and now you’re seeing him differently. I get it. I mean, I went through that just a few days ago with you and Schneep.” Chase gestured between Jackie and himself. “I get it.”

“...yeah, I guess you would.” Jackie gave a little laugh. Then he turned his attention back to the group chat and typed out another message. Actually, JJ. Ned should be involved in this. Can you tell him when he gets to your shop? Then the rest of us can come over and I can say everything all at once.

A few seconds passed. Sure, I suppose, JJ said. Should I tell him everyone is coming?

I dunno. He might leave if he knows so Ill leave that up to you.

Alright.

Jackie looked back at Chase. “So, ready to go over to JJ’s at any moment tomorrow?”

“I have work, but I can call in sick,” Chase said.

“Great. It takes a while to get to JJ’s place so we’ll have to go right away.” Jackie nodded. He started pacing again.

“Bro, I meant it when I said to sit down,” Chase said. “You’re making me nervous.”

“Sorry.” He stopped again. “Don’t worry. There’s nothing to be nervous about.” Probably. They would be confronting a supervillain with his past tomorrow. There might be cause for nerves then.

===============

They got the text at one thirty the next day. Ned just showed up. We’ll be in my apartment upstairs, walk right in and meet us up there, JJ said.

Jackie and Chase wasted no time, heading down to the train station as soon as possible. They quickly made it to Zeit Way. Possibly a bit too quickly. Chase was panting heavily when they reached Jackson Legacy Crafts and needed to rest for a moment outside the door. Jackie hadn’t realized just how athletic he was until that moment; maybe there was something super about his stamina.

Schneep showed up a minute later. “Chase, are you alright?” he asked, immediately concerned.

“Fine.” Chase was still breathing heavily. “Fine, just... ran. Don’t... run much.” He pressed two fingers to his neck. “Everything’s... fine.”

“Alright,” Schneep said slowly. “Be careful.” Then he turned to Jackie. “So. What is this about? Why is it important?”

“We’ll all talk about it inside.” Jackie pushed on the door, only to realize it was locked. “Wait. Damn it.”

“I got it.” Schneep stepped around him and took a key out of his pocket, opening the door. “After you two.”

They headed in and straight for the staircase at the back, which they took slowly because Chase was being even more careful about stairs than usual. But soon they reached the trapdoor. Schneep was at the front, so he was the one to push it open. Chase and then Jackie followed him up into the apartment.

JJ and Spitfire were sitting on the sofa together, with JJ holding the television remote, switching through movies on Netflix, and Spitfire lounging next to him. It was strange to see the two of them being so casual. But it didn’t last long. JJ noticed the three of them as they entered and put down the remote. I didn’t realize you all would be here so fast, he said. Are you alright, Chase?

“Mm-hmm. Just... we went a bit hard getting over here.” Chase reached down and patted Frosty’s head.

Alright. JJ nodded. So what’s all this about?

“We’re getting to that,” Jackie said, blatantly staring at Spitfire.

There must have been something in his expression, because Spitfire froze the moment he saw it. “Well, uh, I’ll head out now,” he said, hurriedly standing up. “I-I didn’t know you guys had something planned—”

“Oh, we have something planned,” Jackie said. “But you don’t need to leave for this.”

“Holy shit, Jackie, you make it sound like we’re going to murder him,” Chase whispered.

Apparently Spitfire took it the same way, because his eyes were darting all around the apartment. They lingered briefly on the window. As if he was seriously considering jumping out of it. JJ, picking up on the sudden shift in mood, stood up. Jackie mentioned some important news earlier, he said. And he thought you should know too. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.

“Uh, well, Jackie can email me later,” Spitfire said hurriedly. He walked quickly around the sofa, going in a wide circle around Jackie, Chase, and Schneep, and headed for the open staircase trapdoor.

Jackie flicked his hand. A gust of wind slammed the trapdoor shut. All the color drained from Spitfire’s face as he stared at the blocked escape route. “This isn’t email-worthy!” Jackie snapped. “This is something I need to hear from your mouth. I need to know what’s going on, Marvin!”

Spitfire—Marvin’s head snapped around. “What?!”

“Yeah, I know about it!” Jackie strode up to Marvin, who took one step back but no farther. “I found out about Light Phoenix, the rogue Hero. I made the connections—they’re not too hard to see if someone knows enough about you! Spitfire Cat, the villain who hates the League of Heroes, is Marvin Nedra. You are Marvin Nedra, aren’t you?! You’re Light Phoenix!” He paused. “Or, you were, at least.”

Marvin stared down at Jackie. His expression was hard to read, but Jackie could see the emotions in his eyes. Anger was there, as he expected. But it was not the main emotion. Instead... Marvin looked afraid.

“Jackie,” Schneep said quietly.

Jackie glanced back at him. He, Chase, and JJ were all standing in a cluster, looking shocked. And a bit wary. Not of Marvin, though.

“Um... bro, can you... calm down?” Chase asked. “You’re...kind of intense... right now.”

Jackie hadn’t realized how close he was to Marvin until Chase said that. He hadn’t noticed the tight knot in his chest, or the wind rattling around the room. Taking a deep breath, he deliberately relaxed his muscles and took a step back. “I’m not... angry,” he said, turning back to Marvin. “I’m just... very confused. I know you hate the League. You’ve monologued about it enough. But... you used to work with them. Until... something happened. And I’m just... confused.” He didn’t know how else to put it.

The fear in Marvin’s eyes died down, leaving only the anger. “Where did you learn all this about Light Phoenix?” he asked in a deliberately calm voice.

“Hero database profile. I got curious—”

“Why?”

“W-well, uh, a couple people mentioned him, said I was... like him.” Jackie paused. “So I got curious.” He cleared his throat. “And don’t you dare try to say that it wasn’t you or something, the profile had a picture and the guy was clearly you!”

“That’s not saying much. Look around.” Marvin gestured at the room. “We’re all doppelgangers here.”

“Okay, yeah, but I’m not an idiot,” Jackie said. “There was more information there! It all fucking lined up! Powers, nationality, age, height—the fucking burns on your arms like you escaped a fire. Like the fire where Light Phoenix supposedly died.” The wind was back, blowing his hair into his face. He took another deep breath. “Just... tell me why. I-I need to know why.”

Marvin stared at him. His eyes flicked back to the other three in the room, who remained silent. Then he looked back at Jackie. “You know what? Fine. Fine. Maybe this will change some things. Maybe you’ll open your eyes a little.” He turned and quickly walked towards the kitchen area. “Jameson, do you have anything I can drink? And I mean drink.”

JJ didn’t hide his surprise. There should be something in the back of the fridge?

“Great.” Marvin yanked open the fridge door.

“You’re getting drunk for this?” Jackie asked in disbelief.

“Not drunk. But if I’m going to tell a room full of basically-strangers my whole backstory I need some encouragement.” Marvin reached into the fridge and pulled out a bottle of something red. “What is this, a wine cooler? Good enough. Oh, and it twists, very nice.”

“Jamie, are you sure about that?” Schneep asked.

JJ nodded. It’s fine. I wasn’t going to drink those anyway.

Marvin twisted the cap off the bottle and took a small sip. Then a bigger swig. He glanced at everyone else. “Why are you all standing? This is going to take a while. Sit. Jackie, you especially. Don’t you dare leave in the middle of this. You asked for it, you don’t get to walk away.”

Everyone sat down. Chase, Schneep, and JJ took the sofa, while Jackie slowly took a seat in one of the armchairs, and Marvin flopped into the other. “Maybe we, uh... shouldn’t be here for this after all,” Chase said slowly. “It seems kind of... personal?”

“Ohhhh it is,” Marvin said, a bit bitterly, and took another drink. “But you’re staying. Jackie wanted to be here, so here you’ll be until I’m fucking finished. Okay?”

“Uh... alright, I guess,” Chase said. He glanced at Jackie, his eyes wide.

Jackie nodded slowly. He was already regretting his decision to confront Spitfire Cat with everyone here. But surely Marvin wouldn’t hurt people who had nothing to do with this.

“Alright. Where to start?” Marvin swirled the bottle for a moment. “I think... I think we start with my grandmam.”

“Uh...” Jackie coughed. “I-I don’t need to know everything about you—”

“No, this is vital information. I need you to know this so you can understand.” Marvin took another drink. “My parents kicked me out of their house when I was fifteen. They didn’t say that I was leaving and never coming back. They said ‘your grandmother is getting on in years and she needs some help living in the city, and it’s easier for you to transfer schools than it is for us to quit our jobs.’ But everyone knew.”

“Were they... anti-super?” Jackie asked tentatively.

“They were anti a lot of things, but it wasn’t the super part that got me thrown out.” Marvin shook his head. “That doesn’t matter. I didn’t see them again after that, so it’s not important. Fuck ‘em. What is important is how Grandmam reacted. I never understood why my dad was the way he was when she had been his mom. She also knew what it meant when I came to live with her, and she was furious. This sort of righteous, protective anger that I’d never seen—at least not centered around me. She never talked to my parents again, either. And she made it clear I didn’t have to. And I never really felt the need to, after living with her. She made me feel... like I actually mattered. Like I could do anything. And it was because I knew she would be there. Even if I crashed and burned and made some terrible choices, I could always go to her, and she would... she would give me a hug, and... tell me that it was okay... and that I was still her family.” Marvin blinked rapidly. He took a shaky breath and looked away from the group.

“She sounds like a good woman,” Schneep said softly.

“She was.” Marvin swallowed a lump in his throat. “She helped me go to uni. I-I chose somewhere close by. Great place. Learned some stuff. Probably could’ve gotten a decent job with my degree, but I didn’t want a decent job. I wanted to be one of the League’s Heroes.” He glanced at Jackie. “And that’s what surprised you?”

Jackie nodded slowly.

“Well, it really shouldn’t. Everyone loves superheroes. They keep us safe. They protect the innocent and look cool doing it. If you somehow get superpowers, everything tells you that you need to become a Hero. What are you even doing if you’re not using your powers to fucking... fight people? Are you using them for crime? Because clearly that’s the only other option. You don’t want to do crime, right? Then you’ll go to jail. Better become a Hero.”

Schneep raised his hand. “I have powers, and I became a doctor, not a Hero.”

Marvin blinked. “Well congratulations for breaking the mold.”

To be fair, you HAVE done criminal things, JJ said.

“That happened after, it was never my intention,” Schneep waved away that detail.

“In any case,” Marvin continued. “I wanted to be a Hero. I wanted to help people and look cool while doing it. So I started going out on my own. Same way you did, Jackie. Starting with petty stuff and working your way up until you finally feel confident enough to put in the application. Let me tell you, it fucking wrecked my sleep schedule to do classes and hero work at the same time.” He paused. “Grandmam found out. She was always sharp as a tack, even in her 70s. I-I thought she would be mad... but she wasn’t. She just wanted me to be happy. And careful, of course.” He laughed darkly and took another drink.

“So you worked for the League,” Jackie prompted.

“I did. And it was great. Sure, it was demanding, physically and mentally, but the smile on people’s faces when you came to the rescue, the knowing that you were making a difference... it made it worth it, in my eyes.”

Jackie swallowed a lump in his throat. That sentiment wasn’t too far off from his own feelings.

“And it was enough to overlook a lot of little problems with the League that I noticed,” Marvin continued. He looked at Schneep. “You’re a doctor, right? So you know about the fees.”

Schneep nodded. His fists clenched. “They are terrible. I have a fund set aside to help cover it for patients.”

“That has to be a lot.”

“It is. What do you think those ‘criminal things’ Jameson mentioned were for?”

Marvin laughed. “Hell yeah.” His expression quickly became serious again. “And that’s only one of the many things nobody talks about with the League. For example, have you heard of neutrinalin?” He glanced at Jackie. “I know you have by now.” Then at Schneep again. “And maybe you. But you other two don’t have powers, so maybe it’s not common knowledge. When you inject a super with neutrinalin, it temporarily blocks their powers. But the League originally planned for it to permanently disable any and all powers, no matter how strong.”

“What?!” Jackie gasped. “That—No. People would know about that.”

“They did. About four years ago, when word of the League’s plans got leaked, there was a huge backlash against the idea of it. People compared it to chopping off a thief’s hand for stealing. So... the League quietly dropped it.” Marvin rolled his eyes. “But I hear that’s because they couldn’t actually figure out how to make the effects stick forever like they wanted.”

“Okay, okay, that’s a bit sketchy,” Jackie admitted. “You can’t just go around taking away someone’s powers. I mean, unless they’re fine with it, I guess? But who would be fine with that? Ugh, it’s not important!” He shook his head. “What does any of this have to do with you killing a man and faking your death?!”

JJ gasped. Schneep looked shocked. Chase glanced at the two of them and nodded. He’d reacted the same way when Jackie told him everything yesterday.

“So you really did find out everything,” Marvin stated, not a hint of emotion in his voice.

“Yeah! And I’m wondering what the hell that’sall about! Though I don’t know why I’m surprised, you did try to assassinate Pink Sunlight back in July.”

“And if I’d succeeded, she would have been the second person I’d ever killed.” Marvin sighed. “To be honest, I regret trying that now. It probably wouldn’t have done much. But Andras Brand? I’ll never regret that.”

“The profile said that the guy was in custody at the time, there was no reason to fucking murder him! You didn’t have to do that.”

“I think I did, actually.” Marvin locked eyes with Jackie. “And I’d do it again. In a heartbeat.”

Jackie stared back, not backing down. “Why?”

A few seconds passed. Marvin was the first to break eye contact, turning to the side and taking another drink. “Andras Brand was a villain called Hellferno,” he said. “And he was an absolute psychopath. He terrorized the country for years. One time he took a whole city hostage and said he would burn a building full of people every three hours the government didn’t give him some ridiculous amount of money. And then when they caved, he used the money as tinder for the next year. The only reason he wasn’t a national-level threat was because he was smart enough to know what line not to cross.”

“He sounds awful, but—” Jackie started.

“Yeah, I know, he was arrested, I’m getting there, okay?!” Marvin snapped. “Look, Hellferno hated my guts. He said I was a disgrace to fire-based supers, and my powers weren’t even real fire. Which they aren’t, but I never claimed they were. Everyone else described them like that. Anyway. We fought a lot. It started with him attacking me for being a fake fire-super, and then over time I just knew him so well that other Heroes started calling me in to deal with him. And he hated that even more.” A small smirk curled around Marvin’s mouth. “Hated that he kept losing, too. Had to retreat almost every time. I was some upstart who was ten years younger than him, and yet I was better.”

“So you killed your nemesis,” Jackie prompted.

Marvin’s smirk faded. He looked down, picking at the label on the bottle. “He found out who I was,” he said quietly. “We were fighting, and my mask got knocked off, and he saw. I-I was freaked out, but everyone said it was fine, that he didn’t know anything else about me besides my face... but that was enough. I-I later found out that he paid a minor villain to track me down online. I... I didn’t know that at the time, though. I thought it would be fine. It... wasn’t.”

The silence in the room was heavy. Marvin took a deep breath and continued. “I was out on patrol one day. It was quite busy, a lot of small-time villains running around and disappearing before I could put the cuffs on them. And then I heard on the police scanner that... there was a fire. A house fire. At... at my address. At the house where... where I lived with my grandmam.”

Jackie opened his mouth to say something, but no words came out. He didn’t know what he would have said anyway.

“I ran there right away, but it was too late. Everything was already up in flames. I-I’m not immune to fire but I wanted to run in. She only left the house a couple times a week. I knew she would be in there. I had to go in and get her. But Tasha—have you heard of her, Jackie? Her super name is Downpour. She makes it rain. Before she made it rain on the blazing fire, she stopped me. She held me back, insisting I couldn’t get myself hurt, and I-I was screaming that I was a Hero, I was supposed to charge into danger, and my grandmam was inside, she couldn’t possibly get out on her own, and she—she fucking punched me so hard she knocked me out.” Marvin’s grip on the bottle tightened. “It took five minutes for her to hold me back. Five minutes when she could have started the rain.”

Marvin looked up. “So yeah. Andras Brand murdered the only real family I had left. And I was pissed. But... I was still a Hero. I wasn’t going to lose control. Even when the next time I saw him he laughed about it and asked me how the funeral was. He fucking did it to get to me. Well, maybe he shouldn’t have bragged about it. Because that pissed me off enough to finally get him. We fought. I knocked him out. I used the new neutrinalin stuff. And that was it.”

The silence was deafening. Jackie could have sworn he could hear the clocks ticking in the shop below. He glanced at the others. Chase was stunned, taking it all in. Schneep looked thoughtful. And JJ had tears in his eyes.

“But you know that wasn’t the end of the story,” Marvin continued. “It should have been. But it wasn’t. Brand’s crimes were bad enough to send him to Byrthon Vault, the highest-security super prison in the ‘British Isles.’” He snorted. “British my ass, they’re only one fifth of the countries. But that’s beside the point. The point is, that’s what I expected. That’s what we all expected. But it’s not what happened.”

“It wasn’t?” Schneep asked, looking more curious than surprised.

“Noooo. Because like I said, Brand was smart. If there was one thing he was skilled at, besides sadism, it was getting out of trouble. He made a deal. Hellferno was connected to a bunch of villains, including some major players. So, if he got a nice minimum security prison and less than a life sentence, he would hand them all over. The offer went all the way to the Council of Heroes themselves. And it. Was. Approved.” Marvin’s eyes flashed orange, as bright as the anger in his voice.

“The League doesn’t... doesn’t make deals with villains...” Jackie said slowly.

“Why not? Heroes do it all the time.” Marvin gave Jackie a pointed look.

“That—We’re taking down the Puppeteer!”

“Exactly the sort of logic the League was using.” Marvin took another drink. “But they did it in a different way than you did with me. I... I don’t know how to explain it. I think it’s because there was more than cold logic in your decision. You weren’t like ‘many villains is more than one,’ it was more like... ‘I think we can help people together.’ Does that make sense?”

“I... Just... keep going,” Jackie said haltingly.

“As you wish,” Marvin said drily. “Well, as you can imagine, when I heard about this, I was fucking livid. No one knew Brand better than I did, and I knew he was smiling about it. He’d managed to play the fucking League like a cheap kazoo. I did everything I could to point this out to anyone. I thought, maybe if enough people were talking about it, the League would change their mind and stick to justice. But no one wanted to talk about it. Other Heroes might have disagreed, but they didn’t want to do anything. And forget about the higher-ups. They just said the same sorts of things. Letting Brand get what he wanted was a route to further peace. Which, like, I understand that logic, but—but no! No! This wasn’t the way to go about it!”

“Maybe... you were just upset because of... you know,” Chase said quietly.

Marvin looked at him. The sharpness in his face softened a bit. “Yeah. That... wasn’t helping things. I know.” He paused, and the sharpness returned. “The League said something like that, too. But not in the way you did just now. They said I was ‘compromised.’ Because I was ‘personally involved.’ And I was. Didn’t mean I wasn’t right, but I was. But do you know what they did next? They assigned me grief counseling.”

“You probably shouldn’t sound so angry about that,” Jackie muttered.

“I’m not angry about the decision, I’m angry about how it happened!” Marvin shouted. “Jackie, you probably have heard of the League-appointed therapists by now. Have you actually had one of their sessions?”

“...No,” Jackie said.

“Good. Because they fucking suck. I never had more than three sessions with one of those ‘therapists,’ because they were all saying the same fucking thing. It all boiled down to ‘hey, sucks that your grandmam died, but time to get over it and get back to work. Time to let it go so you can keep doing the sort of thing that got her killed.’” Marvin shook her head, disgusted. The air around him grew hotter. “None of them listened to me when I said I wasn’t ready. None of them acknowledged the situation with her murderer basically going free. They just said to forget about it. And the insult was that when I got a therapist outside of the League, they found out after two sessions and said that if I kept seeing her, they would dock my pay.”

“That can’t be legal,” Chase said.

“Who fucking cares about legal when you’re in the League?! It’s not legal to cut deals with criminals outside of a courtroom! But the League’s never set foot in a courtroom! The League makes its own rules!” Marvin laughed hysterically. “Who gives a shit, right?! What are the world governments going to do? Sue the guys providing free protection for their people?! No, that’d be crazy!” The laughter slowly died down. Marvin stared at the wall. He looked deeply exhausted.

“Did you do it out of anger at the League?” Jackie asked quietly.

Marvin glanced at him, not turning his head. “I did it because it was the only thing I could do. No one was listening. No one wanted to listen. Brand probably had some sort of escape in the works. Maybe he didn’t. But I knew him. He wouldn’t wait for the sentence to pass. He asked for less security so he had a chance of breaking out. And I couldn’t let him go back out there. I couldn’t let anyone else die.” His voice cracked on the last word.

No one dared say anything. Marvin continued. “So I had a plan. I knew that with my Hero status I could access the place they were keeping him. I didn’t tell anyone I was going there. I just showed up, and they let me in. I went straight to the cell. He was... sitting there. Reading a book in a chair. He looked up at me, smiling, and said, ‘Come for a visit? Do you want to reminisce? I have some memories I’d like to share.” Marvin paused. “I didn’t say anything. That smile of his slipped a bit. I always responded to his bait. He stared at me for a moment, and I think he saw my expression even around my mask. ‘Phoenix,’ he said. And then I killed him.” He raised his hand. A small sphere of red energy flickered in his palm. “Straight shot through the heart. It went through the chair, too. He died instantly. I wonder if he was afraid.” The sphere disappeared. “I turned and walked out, and kept walking. Then I started running. I knew what would happen next.”

“Being declared a rogue Hero,” Jackie whispered.

Marvin dropped his hand. “They told you the policy for a rogue, right?”

Jackie nodded. “Rogue Heroes are high priority. All Heroes in the area are to help search for them. If one of them finds the rogue, they’re meant to call it in so everyone can go help with the arrest.”

“Mein Gott, it’s a fucking manhunt,” Schneep whispered.

Jackie jumped a bit. He’d almost forgotten that Chase, Schneep, and JJ were listening as well.

“It’s a fucking manhunt,” Marvin agreed. “It’s really a miracle that I lasted as long as I did. Almost two weeks. Every couple days I’d have a scuffle with a Hero I’d known, some who I thought were friends, and then I’d have to leave the area immediately. I knew I couldn’t keep it up forever.”

“So you faked your death,” Jackie said quietly.

Marvin grinned. There was something grim about it. “Had to commit. Took a few days to prepare.” The grin disappeared. “I did feel like scum for breaking into a morgue and taking some of the cremated remains. But... I knew they could identify human DNA.” He paused. “Nowadays, decoy bodies won’t work. I hear that last year SepTech gave the League tech an upgrade that could identify who remains belonged to by comparing DNA to known samples and relatives. Not sure how many samples they have, but still. Worrying.”

“So that’s how you did it.” Jackie nodded slowly.

“Yep. I made sure they saw me on the edge of Dublin. I started a fire in the warehouse, left the remains in there, and...” Marvin went silent.

“What?” Jackie prompted.

“You know they have all Heroes’ fingerprints, right?”

“Yeah, they use those for the background checks.” Jackie remembered scanning a picture of his inked prints and attaching it to the application.

“Well they don’t get rid of those. If you go rogue, it’s easy to identify you by the fingerprints.” Marvin flexed his fingers. “So I had to make sure they couldn’t use that method.”

Jackie looked at Marvin’s gloved hands. The horrifying realization slowly dawned on him. “You don’t fucking mean—No. No no no no, you can’t mean—Holy shit. H-how the fuck—how do you just do that?!”

“It was... just as... difficult... as you think,” Marvin said haltingly.

“You can’t be fucking telling me you plunged your hands into fire.”

“You WHAT?!” Schneep gasped.

“I’m going to be sick,” Chase whispered. JJ certainly looked like he was going to, as well.

“It didn’t go well, but... i-it got rid of my fingerprints.” Marvin gave a weak smile.

“Yeah, that would do it! Holy shit!” Jackie leaned back in the chair, unable to stay upright at this. “You really hated the League enough to burn your arms.”

“Well the plan was for it to just be my fingertips, but things got... out of control,” Marvin said haltingly. “I’m lucky I can still use my hands, to be honest. I... spent too long thinking about the fire, and... about my grandmam, and the flames got... big. And then... the rest of the building caught quicker than I thought... and I just kept thinking about...” He trailed off, his gaze going distant.

I’m so sorry you had to go through that, JJ said.

“He didn’t have to go through anything!” Jackie shouted. “You didn’t have to burn your hands off!”

“Oh, and how else was I supposed to get rid of my fingerprints?”

“I don’t know! But you wouldn’t have had to do that if you hadn’t gone rogue!”

“I wouldn’t had gone rogue if anyone in the League had bothered to do their fucking job!” Marvin shot to his feet. The bottle fell to the floor, not breaking but spilling its contents in a wide arc. “Wake up, Jackie! They’ll treat you the same way! They may be telling you that you’re some special great Hero now, but that doesn’t mean they actually care enough to help you when you need it! It’s a fucking tough job to protect people! And they’ll push you through it nonstop until you break or go numb and become their little tool!”

Jackie stood up as well. “That doesn’t mean I’ll kill someone!”

“I never thought I would, either,” Marvin said bitterly. “But maybe you’re right. We all break in different ways.”

Jackie didn’t know what to say, but he wanted to say something. He stammered for a moment, then suddenly—

A musical tone filled the air.

Everyone looked towards the source. It was coming from JJ. He looked embarrassed and pulled his ringing phone out of his pocket. Turning away, he checked the number on the screen. Then he stood up. One moment, he signed, and hurried across the room, disappearing into the storage closet for some privacy.

“Huh. Who would call JJ? Don’t they know how one-sided that would be?” Chase wondered.

“Plenty of people do that anyway,” Schneep muttered. “Jameson complains about it often.”

“Well. Anyway.” Chase shrugged. “There’s, uh... a bit of a situation going on here. Marvin, right?”

“Uh... yeah,” Marvin said, suddenly drained of anger.

Chase grabbed Frosty’s leash, letting Frosty pull him into a standing position. “I’m sorry about all that,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry they never let you deal with things the way you needed to. And that they, uh, ignored what you said about the villain you knew a lot about.”

Marvin let out a shaky breath. He nodded, too choked up to say anything.

“And Jackie.” Chase turned to look at him. “You’re right. Murder is bad.” He laughed. “I don’t think anyone here needs to be told that. Even Marvin. But that’s not why he told this whole story. You asked to know why, and he explained. This... isn’t to, uh... justify things. It’s just to explain. To help you understand.” He glanced back at Marvin. “Right?”

Another nod.

Jackie’s head felt like it was spinning. It was so much. It was all so much. It felt like the ground beneath him was rocking, like he was standing on a ship about to go through a storm. The League helped people. The League cared about people. Didn’t they?

But Marvin couldn’t be lying. If he was, he was a phenomenal actor. That grief, that anger, that frustration was all so real.

“You two don’t have to get along,” Chase continued. “But just, like... respect each other, you know? Especially after this guy just bared his fucking soul to us.”

“Yeah,” Jackie breathed. “I... I’m sorry, Marvin. Sorry that... all of that... happened.”

Marvin stared at him. “Thanks,” he said, the word a single quiet syllable.

Jameson returned from the closet, clutching his phone in one hand. “Jamie, is everything okay?” Schneep asked. “You look...” He trailed off.

“Oh, wait, yeah,” Chase said. “You look really tired all of a sudden. What, did you do push-ups in the closet?”

Jameson laughed silently and shook his head. No, it’s just been... an exhausting time for a while. He walked over to the sofa and picked up the remote again, turning on the TV and flipping to the news (which was currently reporting traffic).

Chase raised an eyebrow. “You know we’re still here, right?”

Sorry, I thought some background noise might be appreciated, Jameson said, sitting down.

“Okay, sure?” Jackie said, a bit confused. “Uh... well.” He looked at Marvin. “I’m not... going to leave the League or anything. It’s... hard to, like... match up what you said with what’s already in my brain.”

“You couldn’t leave anyway,” Marvin muttered. “Quitting is a nightmare of bureaucracy, it’s basically only available if you’re retiring from hero work altogether.”

“Uh... that’s another thing that’s hard to match up,” Jackie said. “But as I was saying. I’ll... you said this might open my eyes, and... It’ll be hard to forget.”

“Good.” Marvin folded his arms.

“I just don’t know what you expect me to do with all this.”

“I don’t expect you to do anything. I expect you to think about it. I expect you to reconsider every policy the League has. I’m not asking you to go rogue, Windstorm. Jackie. I’m asking you to... I don’t know.” Marvin shook his head. “I don’t know,” he repeated quietly. “I’m only hoping you’re not as much of an idiot as I thought you were.”

Jackie paused. “Well... I’m still a bit of an idiot,” he admitted. “But I’m not a dumb idiot. If that makes sense.”

“That is arguable,” Schneep muttered.

“Whoa, hey!” Jackie whirled on him. “That’s uncalled for!”

“I saw you for three different injuries, Jackie. I’m sure at least one of those could have been avoided. Not to mention the binding situation.”

“Hey! What happened to confidentiality?!” Jackie put his hands on his hips. “Okay, just out me in front of the super villain, why don’t you?”

“Out? Wait. Oh.” Marvin’s eyes widened. “Oh, you’re—oh.”

“See?!” Jackie gestured at him. “He had no idea!”

“I mean... I-I don’t mind,” Marvin said haltingly. “I don’t really... care. I’m... also... in those circles.”

In the background, JJ silently nodded like Marvin had just confirmed his suspicions.

“Really? Oh, uh... this is awkward,” Jackie said. “I mean, obviously I also don’t mind, it’s just... I never expected to learn that about you.”

“I never expected to tell you. Just wanted to let you know I didn’t mind.”

“Yeah, uh... no one here minds, either.”

Silence descended on the room, thick enough to cut with a butterknife. Everyone glanced at each other, not sure how to break the quiet.

And then—

The TV screeched with static. Jackie jumped and whirled to look at it, as did everyone else. Black and white bars glitched across the screen. And then it all cleared to reveal a familiar face of green eyes and a jagged smile.

“Oh for the love of fuck,” Jackie muttered, covering up the sudden fear he felt with annoyance.

“I know you are watching, Windstorm,” said the Puppeteer, his computerized voice punctuated with static. “I know you figured out what I was planning. But all you’ve done is force me to adjust. Something is happening in the city, Windstorm. Can you figure out what it is? Or where they all are?” He laughed, the sound strange and robotic. And then the screen went to static again, and the normal news segment returned, with the anchor looking confused and worried.

“Shit! Of all the fucking times!” Jackie immediately ran for the window, then stopped. “Shit! I didn’t bring my suit!”

“You don’t carry it with you?!” Marvin asked, surprised.

“I do most of the time, but I wasn’t planning for this to happen!”

“You can never plan for emergencies, you can only prepare,” Schneep said, staring at the TV. “That was this villain. The Puppeteer. What did he mean by that?”

“I don’t know! Something is happening somewhere in the city!” Jackie patted the pockets of his hoodie, even though he knew he hadn’t brought his police scanner or the Red Line. “I have to go figure it out!”

“Wow, um... can we help?” Chase asked.

“Help?”

“Yeah, didn’t you say something about teaming up with this guy to fight the Puppeteer?” Chase pointed at Marvin.

“Your friend’s right, I’m not about to let this fucker get away with whatever he’s trying to do.” Marvin folded his arms.

“And I’m sure I could be of help,” Schneep said.

“I—are you sure, Schneep?” Jackie asked. “It could be dangerous.”

Schneep laughed. “Do you think I’ve never found danger in my exploits?” In fact, there was a fire in his eyes that said he was excited for danger.

“...okay,” Jackie said quietly. “You know the risks. And obviously Spitfire does, too. Um—Marvin does, too. But you two!” He pointed at Chase and JJ. “The best thing you can do is stay home! Where it’s safe! I don’t know what the Puppeteer’s planning, but it’s probably not good to be out and about!”

“Uh... yeah, that makes sense.” Chase nodded. “Do you think it would be safe to take the train back to the apartment?”

“I—Maybe? I can go with you. But JJ, please stay here.”

JJ nodded. He was slumped back against the sofa. I don’t want to go anywhere, trust me, he said. He seemed even more exhausted than before. But... Maybe when you go out for this, you can wear the gift I gave you?

“The—oh. Right.” The bracelets. Jackie chewed his lip in thought. “I think I can do that. I’m not sure how practical it is, but they can fit under the suit.”

I think it will bring luck, JJ said.

“I might forget, so no promises, but I’ll do that.” Jackie whirled around and headed for the trapdoor. “Now everyone! Move out!”

Without even waiting for them to respond, he rushed over, threw open the trapdoor, and ran down the stairs, skipping every other one. His head was still whirling with thoughts after hearing Marvin’s story, but there was no time to waste!

Time to be a hero.

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