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still-a-morosexual-help · 3 years

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OBEY ME! LESSON 57 DETAILED SUMMARY AND DISCUSSIONS/THEORIES

*I wrote this days after the lesson was first posted and never bothered to go back and edit it so meaning there will be me theorizing about the next lesson as well

*I write a small para for each chapter and I write it immediately after finishing that chapter so there’ll be theorizing about the next chapter too

*I swear more than usual here

*Some of the dialogue is heavily plagiarized and a few is lifted directly from the story, the game is to figure which is which.

*Summaries and Discussions/theories for all the other lessons can be found on this blog under #obey me spoilers or #my theories or #my headcanons

MC wakes up to Belphie and Satan planning on kidnapping them, deciding to wake them up and then arguing about which small prank they should play to wake them up (satan suggests holding their nose till they wake up and Belphie says they’d have to be careful with that method cause it could kill a human). MC decides it’d be best nor to let them go ahead with anyone of this and wakes up screaming to scare them both. They complain about being reverse pranked and say that breakfast is ready. Belphie also gives them the star of diligence for all that happened last lesson. Belphie asks if once MC becomes an actual sorcerer if Solomon will teach them higher level magic. Satan say it’d be a great boost to the anti-lucifer league. Belphie wonders what the final exam would be (and I just realised these two exams will be the final exam holy shit) and satan asks MC if they’re confident, they say ‘after all the BS I’ve been through? FUCK YEAH!’ Satan says it’s good to be motivated but to stay focused, Belphie says past experience shows that MC can stand to lose a little focus and still be okay. There’s a commotion and they realise that it’s probably Beel rampaging cause he got too hungry.

Asmo scolds Beel for his rampage, Beel apologizes and Asmo tells him not to apologize through a mouthful of food cause it seems less sincere. Asmo asks if he even regrets it and Beel ignores him to go reheat the meat pies which pisses asmo off more. Belphie tells him to drop it and that it was partly their fault for taking so long to come back. Asmo then scolds Belphie for being too soft with Beel. Lucifer asks about MC’s star and congratulates them. MC thanks him and questions him being so happy about them nearly being done. He says them becoming a proper sorcerer is important for all the brothers and that personally Lucifer wants them to become more powerful than Solomon so that they can finally shut him up and make him stop pestering Lucifer for a pact. Belphie questions Lucifer more about Solomon and Lucifer complains, also saying that there are plenty of demons willing to forge a pact with him but Asmo says Solomon’s very particular about who he makes pacts with. Asmo says word for word, “It may not seem like it, but he’s got a very cold-blooded side to him. He probably picks his targets purely based on whether they’ll be of use to him.” (I just think it’s really interesting that asmo calls them ‘targets’ though the character relationship diagram did say that Solomon considers others his playthings). Asmo uses Mammon as an example of a demon Solomon wouldn’t want to forge a pact with but Mammon doesn’t respond instant he’s silent and distracted/worried. Asmo pokes at Mammon again asking if he agrees. Mammon distractedly agrees. Asmo’s smile instantly falls, shocked and upset that Mammon isn’t biting back and arguing or saying something mean in return (why is this my brother & I???). Satan says that Levi will also be useless to Solomon. Levi responds the same way as Mammon did which freaks out both Satan and Belphie. MC asks Mammon & Levi what’s wrong. Belphie states how weird they’re being and Asmo also asks what happened, looking particularly upset. Lucifer calls out to the both of them too. But before they get a response Barbatos calls Lucifer asking them all to come to the hotel immediately.

On the way over Satan says Barbatos asking them over this early is strange and asks if he gave Lucifer a reason, Lucifer said Barbatos had promised to explain when they got there. Satan asks if this is wise considering two of them were already acting odd. Lucifer turns to them and says he’s not going to ask what their behaviour’s about rn but when they go back home the two of them have to explain to him what happened. They both give distracted noncommittal hums as answers. Satan says they’re like completely different people rn and Asmo says whatever the reason behind their behaviour it’s probably stupid. Asmo then asks MC about how he should paint his nails next time, MC can say a mature look, =a feminine look or a simple look. Then he remembers he’s supposed to enrol in a cooking class that makes food to “cleanse the soul” it’ll be hard with new nails. He also worries about whether food that ‘cleanses the soul’ could exorcise him. MC after all the BS they’ve gone through is extremely paranoid and says it sounds sus Asmo says the 7 of them are also pretty suspicious and that given their limited time in the human world he wants to do everything he can. Behind them Levi meows. Asmo says that though the demons are here just on break the angels are gonna be here long term (guys guys guys what if S4’s after the brothers leave and it’s an angel focused season with them bringing in Michael and Raphael and the brothers only show up for small bits??? I’d cry I’ll get Mammon withdrawal). Levi meows again. Asmo says he wants to stay and have fun in the human world for longer too. Levi meows thrice in a row. Asmo finally snaps and yells at Levi. Levi says he just wants to talk to MC for a bit (remembered the girl in college who used to meow at me whenever we passed by each other). Satan says he knows that Levi’s done something bad that’s gonna piss off Lucifer and now he’s trying to drag MC away from the others to find away to fix it. Levi tries to deny it but Satan just congratulates him and says depending on how this turns out they may invite him to the ant-lucifer league. Belphie asks what he did and Levi tries to deny it until Beel stops walking in stunned silence and Belphie asks him what happened. Beel says he just remembered something awful.

Beel wants to go back to get his abandoned meat pies, Mammon breaks outta whatever stupor he was in to say that’s insane and MC suggests heading through the market. Beel loves the idea and hugs MC, with Asmo saying he wants to hug MC too. At the market people stare at them, Lucifer says it’s natural with how big a group they are, Asmo contributes it to his beauty, I say it’s Satan’s ugly ass clothes. Mammon says people oughta pay them if they’re gonna stare, Levi says it’s embarrassing and MC tells him he’s being too self-conscious, Levi replies saying it feels like he’s being made to do an embarrassing public dare. The butcher greets all of them, surprised to see all of them at once, Beel places his order and the butchers asks if they’re friends, family…(members of a cult? Orgy?) MC can look over at either Mammon or Lucifer and get them to answer. Mammon says that except for MC they’re brothers though he doesn’t like being stuck with them for brothers but what can ya do. Belphie says Mammon’s got that last bit backwards. Lucifer says the same as Mammon’s first part but adds on that the others can be embarrassing. Satan says ‘like you’re not!?’ The butcher looks at this back of idiots who all look roughly the same age and nothing alike and says “ah. I see.” Then says “MC is your friend or…”Asmo laughs and calls the butcher nosy and says he and MC are a couple and that they’re they love of his life (the butcher previously also was introduced to Beel & MC and Mammon & Mc as couples…), Mammon says MC’s his servant (what a dick. I love him so much), Belphie says he thought the story was they hired MC as their babysitter (and that doesn’t sound shady at all) MC can say they’re a.) family This makes Beel & lucifer really happy and they agree. b.) their master, Mammon says MC’s got it wrong and it’s the other way around. Levi says that at least in Mammon’s case they got it right. c.) their babysitter – Satan protests to being called a baby. The Butcher’s like right….I kind of don’t wanna ask for anymore details but it’s nice you’re all so close.

Up in the hotel Beel is on his 37th meat pie much to Asmo’s dismay. Diavolo greets them and apologizes for the time, MC asks ‘what kinda bullfuckery is going on now’. Since last night there’ve been rumours of an evil spirit (aren’t diavolo & Barbatos also technically evil spirits…) Last night a guest had coming running to the front desk, seeming very pale and petrified with fear insisting there was something in the room with them. Though they don’t say a word Mammon gets shocked by this and Levi gets upset. Several staff members had gone to investigate but what they’d seen had left them shaking and unable to speak. They shock was so much that everyone who’d seen it had been admitted to the hospital. Mammon starts nervously laughing, saying it must have been all in their imagination, the way he words it makes it sound like he’s implying evil spirits aren’t real which I find hilarious. Levi, stuttering, backs him up. Satan says they can’t have all imagined it (isn’t this a thing though? Wait lemme google it up. Mass hallucinations or epidemic hysteria. The first two examples are during the middle ages and they both happened to nuns which is odd. The first was a nun who kept biting other nuns and it spread till the nuns were biting each other. The other was a nun who kept meowing and well that spread. Hey you guys need to read the wiki page for the examples of this it’s really fucking interesting). Mammon ignores Satan and tries to leave citing ‘stuff’ he’s gotta do. And Levi suddenly remembers some of his prior commitments as well. Asmo calls them out for being suspicious and Mammon stutters through the whole sentence denying it. Lucifer bans them from leaving which upsets them and Satan realises that they were called to get rid of the spirit. MC (who’s a shit) asks why the demon king’s son can’t take care of it or if it’s safe for demons to exorcise evil spirits. He says he’s got meetings the whole morning and that the spirit is something he can’t keep waiting till later. He says that though to humans they may seem similar, demons and evil spirits are very different beings. He also says the spirit is the kind that’ll be hard even for demons to handle alone. Asmo asks if that means Diavolo knows what it is. He says it’s a bogeyman (Me: *snort*)

The twins are surprised, Diavolo asks MC whether they know what it is. Bogeymen are well known even in the human world, with children fearing they may be hiding in dark corners of their rooms, they don’t have their own form and instead appear as your greatest fear (and isn’t this the thing from harry potter? A boggart right?) Belphie asks how it could have ended up in Corvo and Lucifer turns to the two obvious suspects as they try to inch their way towards the door. Through stutters they try to explain that they weren’t trying to run away. Lucifer’s so pissed at this point his text has stopped appearing in bold and is now appearing in red. Mammon throws Levi under the bus, saying he wouldn’t stop adding all these new upgrades to crowe, levi says it was Mammon doing that using Levi’s account and money. Levi said Mammon wanted to try an effect called “Pandora’s Gacha” which would give you a random effect that you weren’t told about beforehand. When Lucifer yells at them to quiet his text is both bold and red so you know he’s seconds away from murdering them. He makes them explain everything properly from the beginning and there’s a flashback. They’re both in Levi’s room, realising how badly they fucked up, as black mist starts to swirl around them (they also keep finishing each other’s sentences as they talk about how fucked they are which I thought was cute). Levi says he has no idea what they summoned but that it should definitely not be loose in the human world and Mammon cusses out crowe (which fair? Which did an update to crowe let loose an evil spirit? Maybe cause crowe’s also connected to the devildom but I can’t imagine anyone in the devildom wanting to be surprised with an evil spirit either… and shouldn’t they correct that bug before someone in the human world summons something that only crowe in the devildom is supposed to summon. But I guess Levi’s crowe is a prototype). Crowe actually answers Mammon and starts telling what it is an what it does as the mist starts taking form. Crowe congratulates them on winning a ‘super special rare effect’, Mammon asks how they could congratulate them when this sucks. The mist forms into Lucifer in his demon form resulting in the two of them screaming and panicking, Mammon’s chanting ‘no’ over and over again and Levi shrieks at Crowe to get rid of it and Crowe asks if he wants to transfer the bogeyman to another location. Crowe asks permission to use 1000DP to install an update to do that, which makes Levi hesitate but Mammon agrees. Crowe asks where they would like to send it. Levi starts stuttering saying he doesn’t know and Mammon says anywhere but here. Levi then stutters out hotel corvo. (So I have questions: Does the bogeyman appear as what you fear the most in general or what you fear the most at the time you see it? Like since before it formed a shape they were already freaking out about Lucifer getting pissed at them so in that one moment that’s what they were scared of more than anything else. Also does it transform into your collective fear? Like since Mammon & Levi met it together it transformed into a pissed demon Lucifer cause that’s the one thing they both fear the most but if it met the two of them individually would it transform into something they alone fear the most? I’m asking cause the two of them seem to piss off Lucifer so much, and despite knowing the consequences for their actions this does not stop them from doing more things to piss off Lucifer, and they’ve been doing this for thousands upon thousands of years that it doesn’t make sense that the thing they fear the most would be Lucifer.)

Back in the present mammon happily compliments Levi on his quick thinking of transferring it to Corvo, Levi happily takes the compliment, calling himself a genius and saying he’d seen an ad for corvo right before the whole bogeyman thing appeared and it popped into his head. “How very interesting…” Says Lucifer with a smile on his face and remembering where they are right now Levi gasps. Lucifer quotes back what they just said to each other before transforming into his demon form making the two of them start screaming again. Belphie says the two of them redefine stupid. Barbatos, with a smile, says he’s pleased they found the cause of all this. And Satan remarks that Barbatos seems really pissed. Beel says the way he’s smiling makes it scarier and actually reminds him of Satan (I love the smiling despite being consumed with seething murderous rage thing some of the demons do. We even saw Mammon do it in that one Devilgram where the brothers for once actually managed to piss him off enough to make him transform into his demon form.) Barbatos says he’ll leave the clean up to Lucifer and the others. Lucifer, now back to normal, agrees despite looking upset and saying he’d rather not. Barbatos drags diavolo to his meeting despite Diavolo protesting and saying he doesn’t want to leave as things get interesting and asking if he can reschedule the meetings, Barbatos says Diavolo had promised to be professional and get all his work done if Barbatos let him come and stay in the human world. Diavolo asks MC if they can have a gossip session about everything that’s gonna happen later and they promise to. Diavolo complains again and Barbatos smiles and goes ‘Young Master.’ And Diavolo immediately fold and leaves. Belphie comments on how even Diavolo wouldn’t dare cross Barbatos when he’s pissed. Asmo and Satan say Levi and Mammon should fix this mess. Mammon says as brothers they should stick together. Belphie says he doesn’t get to play the brother card at his convenience. Asmo asks if MC agrees with him. Levi gives them puppy dog eyes and asks if MC will abandon them. If MC says they should all work together Mammon gets all sparkly eyed and says he knew MC would agree and Levi gets all sparkly eyed and says MC’s the best. Belphie says he doesn’t want to be stuck dealing with this. If MC says it’s their fault and they should figure it out Mammon asks them if that doesn’t sound too harsh and Levi says he understands that nobody cares about them. Satan calls them tweedled-dee and tweedled-dum and says they brought it on themselves. Beel asks Lucifer what they’ll do. Lucifer says Mammon & Levi should deal with it, Levi tries to protest but Asmo says they should have known this would happen. They’re interrupted by Simeon and Solomon, with Solomon saying he wants MC to take care of this.

Lucifer asks why they’re here. Solomon says Barbatos told him and that the bogeyman was a perfect opportunity that they can’t let go to waste and that he wants to make it MC’s final exam. MC can say it sounds exciting or crazy, MC’s a lunatic so after they say the first Solomon is pleased and says he’d expect nothing less from his apprentice and that this is gonna be hard but it’ll make it more rewarding. Simeon laughs and says Solomon seems to have rubbed off on MC, he pauses and adds “in a good way”. Solomon smiling says that they’ll have Simeon with them as help. Simeon says he’d only come by to deliver cakes but had gotten kidnapped by Solomon. MC says they could use Simeon’s help, he’s silent for a moment but agrees though he says he doesn’t know how much help he’ll be. The others agree to come along to watch/help MC’s exam. Mammon gets all sparkly at the thought of his ‘sweet little brothers’ coming to help but Belphie says none of them are doing it for him or Levi but for MC instead. Levi says he feels like they really lucked out here. Solomon asks Lucifer if he has any protests. Lucifer looks tired and done but agrees to it all. They end up in a really creepy bloodstained hall bathed in red light. Beel asks Levi not to walk plastered on to him. Levi stutters and says he can’t. Mammon, also thoroughly freaked out, holds on to MC as they walk and says the hallway is really creepy. Asmo scolds him for using this as an excuse to hold MC. Lucifer tells them all to stfu. From the far end of the fall they hear growling until from the shadows something roars and comes charging towards them. Mammon screams.

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blackswaneuroparedux · 4 years

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Anonymous asked: I really enjoyed your book review of Sebastian Junger’s Homecoming. Perhaps enjoyment isn’t the right word because it brought home some hard truths. Your book review really helped me understand my older brother better when I think back on how he came home from the war in Afghanistan after serving with the Paras and had medals pinned up the yin yang. It was hard on everyone in the family, especially for him and his wife and young kids. He has found it hard going. Thanks for sharing your own thoughts as a combat veteran from that war. Even if you’re a toff you don’t come across as a typical Oxbridge poncey Rupert! As you’re a classicist and historian how did ancient soldiers deal with PTSD? Did the Greeks and Roman soldiers even suffer from it like our fighting boys and girls do? Is PTSD just a modern thing?

See previous post for Part 1. Part 2 of my answer here below....

But does it mean no Greek or Roman soldier ever suffered trauma or mental illness? Is there nothing we can’t learn from them? Of course not. Both the Greeks and Romans can teach us a lot about suffering.

Both cultures recognised the importance of integrating soldiers back into society that were they had tried to defend on the battlefield. And I think we can learn a lot from them in the regard.

If we are able to accept that PTSD is not a product of mechanised warfare and very likely did occur in ancient societies, then the question should be asked: how did ancient cultures deal with individuals who experienced trauma and suffering? We know that exposure to violence occurred. And we know, too, that homecoming was a common experience, in that some type of military service was a regular feature of the cursus honorum for those in the senatorial class and was an avenue for the lower classes seeking advancement. Valour in combat was respected, and it was not unusual, when in pursuit of higher office or defending oneself at trial, to display one’s scars from battle as a physical witness of character.

Inscriptions inform us that many veterans pursued successful careers upon their return, becoming leading men in their cities. We know that they feared war and respected it, we know that they used ritual to distinguish war from peace, but we do not know how these men fared emotionally and psychologically after long exposure to violence.

While many ancient cultures were able to recognise the significant changes in soldiers following a battle, the precise reasons as to what created these changes were elusive. A common explanation was that the occurrence of (what I describe as) PTSD was caused by the actions of malevolent ghosts or spirits of those who were killed in battle and now sought vengeance on their killer. While it is unlikely that a vengeful spirit explanation is correct, it does contain the insight that the sickness originated from an inward or unseeable wounding, and these invisible wounds could be just as deadly as any outward wound.

Many ancient cultures sought to deal with and create specific rituals to heal the unseeable and drive off the ghosts who caused them. The central purpose of these often culturally unique rituals was to welcome the returning soldier back into society and allow for the release of trauma. The Romans directed the Vestal Virgins to bathe returning soldiers, purging them of the corruption of war.

While the plethora of writings describing PTSD-like signs in ancient veterans indicate that these rituals did not always work, given the sheer numbers of ancient soldiers who went into battle and through these rituals, it would seem likely that for many something about them did work. However, it might not have been the welcome back into society alone that worked.

What might have been even more important, and what is often overlooked, was that the reintegration process would begin in the aftermath of the battle when the survivors began to walk home. Given that ancient soldiers sometimes fought far from their homeland, when the war was over they had to the walk home. The speed of this return was dictated by the pace of the slowest pack animals and the slow pace, while frustrating, may well have given the soldiers much needed time to reflect upon what they had experienced, grieve for comrades lost and perhaps find solace in a shared group experience. The long march back culminated in a ritual cleansing and a return to home, as mentioned above.

One of the reasons this slow decompression might have aided the efficacy of the return rituals can be seen in its complete opposite in contemporary conflict, where the advent of improved transport has made it possible to move troops quickly and efficiently. Perhaps too quickly and too efficiently. While troops might be happy to be back at home far more quickly, there might be a lost opportunity for soldiers to properly process what they have seen and experienced within a like-minded group.

I believe that we must be cautious when we map the past too neatly upon our own experiences or, conversely, our own experiences too neatly upon the past. While there are similarities and continuities, the relationship between ancient and modern must be carefully parsed. All lovers of the classical past are familiar with how the study of the Greeks and Romans awakens profound and contradictory feelings of identification and alienation. With respect to combat trauma, the shock felt by a modern soldier upon seeing a corpse for the first time would have been incomprehensible to both the Greeks and the Romans, who were surrounded by death.

Likewise, modern technology – with its distant, impersonal, and terrifyingly effective weapons, its instantaneous communication between home front and front line, and the speed of return from combat – requires an adaptability and an ability to get one’s head around big spaces and multiple actors that would never have been demanded from a Roman legionary.

My own view is that our soldiers actually face more complicated psychological factors than did the Romans – including a populace that largely avoids the realities of war while still wishing to enjoy the profits of it.

In addition, as our understanding of what causes PTSD grows we may find a paradox: distance weapons, developed to provide overwhelming military superiority and to shield troops from the fear and horror of close combat, may in fact cause more trauma, whether owing to the shockwaves they send through the brain or to the sense of helplessness they engender.

Moreover psychologists believe that modern PTSD cases are the result of the loss of ‘ontological security’ – ‘an individual’s inability to reconcile their traumatic memories with their moral codes, self-concepts, beliefs about human nature and notions of cosmic justice through which they seek to impose what anthropologists call a sense of order and meaning on the world. The psychological conflict arising from trauma ensures that the trauma lives on as ‘a source of socially and psychologically maladaptive behaviour’. But - and here’s the crux of it - the definition of what is a traumatic memory is as variable as the sufferer is individual, and this is culturally dependent even in the most homogenous societies.

Where we can learn from the Greeks and Romans is how they dealt with homecoming and using religious spirituality to balm emotional wounds.

For the Greek warrior, Classical Greek culture, like that of Rome after them, practiced polytheism, the expression of which included confirmatory and transformatory rituals. Ritual purification with water occurred in Greek funeral rites, with indication that pollution associated itself suggest that the cleansing had anything to do with establishing proper relationship to the gods, but may have had a purely “practical” force.

A more important spiritual concept to the Greek soldier than that of pollution may have been that of the necessary separation between the warrior’s life and the domestic life. In ancient and classical Greece, city walls held a religious significance as the separation between the sacred and the profane, for inside the walls are the sanctuary and security of domestic peace, while outside the walls warfare and the domestic life from which the warriors of his tale are separated, evoking pathos in the listener; the Iliad’s action describes the soldierly activities and battles of the Greeks and Trojans, while Homer’s metaphors describe the everyday activities which the Greeks have left behind and with living relatives as well as physical location.

Some Classicists believe there is little evidence to suggest that the cleansing had anything to do with establishing proper relationship to the gods, however. Furthermore, a Greek male’s citizenship was based on his membership in his city’s fighting force, his τιμή, honour, was directly related to his performance in the line of duty, and “a purely predatory attitude toward the lives and possessions of one’s enemies was an essential part of archaic and classical Greek warfare. This attitude toward battle makes it unlikely that Greek soldiers would have felt any sense of pollution either from warfare or the soldier’s association with, or proximity to, death or blood; cleansing rites were likely observed for fallen comrades and camps, but may have had a purely “practical” force.

In the Iliad, Homer makes extensive use of metaphor to juxtapose the world of warfare and the domestic life from which the warriors of his tale are separated, evoking pathos in the listener; the Iliad’s action describes the soldierly activities and battles of the Greeks and Trojans, while Homer’s metaphors describe the everyday activities which the Greeks have left behind and been separated from for ten years, such as women sewing and farmers reaping.

The soldier may accumulate honour in battle, but he is acutely aware of what he is sacrificing, even if only temporarily, to gain that honour. Homer’s Odyssey and Aeschylus’ Agamemnon are explorations of difficulties the Greek warrior faced as he attempted to return to domestic life after long absence in war. The concept of such separation may have had a sacred significance akin to the idea of the separation of domestic and non-domestic spaces established by walls; it was at least culturally significant to the Greeks of Homer’s and Aeschylus’ times.

Though Greek soldiers may not have had purification rituals to cleanse themselves after battle, Shay proposes that warriors of certain Greek societies, at least, had a form of transformatory, religiously-significant ritual which served to reintegrate them into domestic society after long separation in mandatory military service and, for most, exposure to combat. He writes, “The performances of Athenian tragic theatre - which was a theatre of combat veterans, by combat veterans, and for combat veterans - offered cultural therapy, including purification...The ancient Athenians had a distinctive therapy of purification, healing, and reintegration of returning soldiers that was undertaken as a whole political community. Sacred theatre was one of its primary means of reintegrating the returning veteran into the social sphere as “citizen.”

Shay proposes that soldiers hearing or reciting the Iliad would also have experienced a similar sacred catharsis; thus, this might have been one reason for the works’ significance in Greek culture.

What of the warrior of Imperial Rome? What of homecoming and religion? Religion was likewise both a public and private affair during Imperial Rome.

Political leaders and military officials were also religious leaders, and the people considered the emperor god-like, if not a god, within one of Rome’s many public cults. Ritual practices were integral to both state and private religion. The Romans accepted that the safety and prosperity of their communities depended upon the gods, whose favour was won and held by correct performance of the full range of cult practices inherited from the past. Bargaining rituals, in which a specific ritual action was performed or promised in return for fulfillment of prayer, as well as confirmatory and transformatory rituals, were common throughout the Roman Empire’s many public and private religious cults.

Within this cultural context, Rome allowed her soldiers to practice in accordance with individual religious beliefs, and the army took part in public religious activities. Among many other state religious rituals, Roman armies underwent ritual purification (known as lustratio exercitus, translating literally as ‘the purification of the army’), sometimes before battle, sometimes after (or sometimes both). This ritual may also have been performed on the Campus Martius (the sacred field dedicated to the Roman god of war, Mars) at the start and end of the military campaign season.

The Roman practice of leading a victorious army under a triumphal arch may also have been a ritual purification; soldiers decorated themselves and their standards for both rituals with laurel, a plant commonly used for purification in other aspects of Roman culture.

Scholars disagree as to the purpose of the purification ritual and the sacred nature of an army’s triumph. Pritchett suggests that Roman generals conducted the lustratio exercitus in order “to remove superstitious dread” from the soldiers before battle. Some scholars argue that the purification ritual was not merely to remove dread before battle, but may have included the use of laurel to “cleanse the army of its bloodshed.” In common with the Greeks, Roman soldiers were unlikely to attach any moral disapprobation to the act of killing itself, or find war immoral. But the performance of the ritual after battle and at the close of the warrior’s season indicate the Romans may have felt that some incidental, religious pollution attached itself to the army or the soldier from nearness to death or blood.

As some point out, Virgil in his imperial epic poem, The Aeneid, supports the idea that the imperial Romans saw some impurity associated with the individual’s presence in combat - Aeneas, having just taken part in battle, states that he must purify himself before approaching his household gods. Others sees the act of battle as a sacred undertaking; therefore, at the end of the campaign season, the soldiers ritually desacralised themselves and also cleansing themselves for their acts of violence in battle.

This idea further suggests a sacred distinction between the warrior and the non-warrior, as the warrior undertook a particular religious duty by fighting which the non-warrior did not. The ceremony performed at a Roman soldier’s retirement, when the emperor, or his proxy, would perform a ritual releasing the soldier from the religious oath he took upon joining the army, transitioning him back into private life, seems to suggest this as well.

These ritual purifications may also have marked the transition for the soldier from chaos back to order. Roman society placed high value on order and Rome’s citizens saw the empire as a civilizing force against the barbaric chaos of other peoples; for them, Roman conquest brought law public order, and structure to uncivilized barbarians as much as it did land and treasure to Rome.

The division between what was civilised (Rome) and was chaotic (barbarians, and thus anyone Rome was at war with) was sacred and sharp, and it was the Roman army which crossed that line to carry order to the peoples of the world. The presence of the ritual after battle and after the campaign season may mark a restorative or transitional moment in which the soldier’s association with chaos in battle against an uncivilized enemy ends and he returns to the orderly world of Roman civilisation.

While no absolute solution can be drawn from the experiences of ancient soldiers, there may be sufficient clues to warrant studying what benefits might be gained from delaying the return of groups of individuals from conflicts in a structured manner, thereby lessening the propensity for PTSD to occur. Particularly, if it were possible to enact rituals of our own - rituals which recognise and free returning soldiers from their traumas and assuage any sense of guilt and culpability - and reinforce that society values them for what they did, we may be better able to deal with PTSD.

Indeed whatever the causes or effects of PTSD suffered by returning service personnel, homecoming is crucial to integrating that person back into his/her family, community, and society. Earlier I talked about research done on British, European and American returning soldiers and the wide discrepancies between the European and the American experience of dealing with PTSD and reintegration.

I think one reason why British soldiers fared better than our American brethren is we had more effective mental health tools and mechanisms in place. I’m sure your brother as he was with the Parachute regiment would have gone through the TRiMS and TLD programme as a way for returning British soldiers to process their tour experience before being allowed back into the fold. It doesn’t work for everyone but certainly catches more in the supportive net who otherwise might have profound difficulties ‘coming home’.

For those who don’t know since 2007 the British armed services have been using the Trauma Risk Management program (TRiM) and the practice of soldiers spending time in a “third location decompression” (TLD) to help the process of homecoming as well as detect early warnings of PTSD. Both have been important tools for British soldiers to process their emotions and experiences.

The good thing about TRiM is that it’s a peer support system designed to assess trauma experienced by soldiers and encourage them to seek help if needed. TLD requires its participants to spend 36 hours in a location away from combat before returning home, often on the bases in Cyprus within the British Sovereign Territory there. Both of these mitigation measures focus on unit or regimental cohesiveness, which is has been well proven to be associated with lower levels of common mental disorders and PTSD. The aim of decompression is to ensure everyone gets a proper mental health briefing and that they are able to speak informally to each other without being judged. In the end it’s an invaluable opportunity to access the social support needed and begin the reintroduction to ‘normal life’.

Of course no system is perfect - look how sprawling the British veteran charities are for instance (Royal British Legion, Poppy Scotland, Combat Stress, Connect Assist, the Ministry of Defence, SSAFA etc) with over 2000 registered veteran charities which leads to confusion about services and support. No measure that is put in place can treat every single soldier but every little bit helps more than it hinders a soldier’s return ‘home’.

In the end to wheel back to your question, the issue of whether the Romans suffered PTSD is probably unanswerable, because the problem itself exposes many of the challenges posed by the historical study of the past. I do know that the view that the Graeco-Roman world knew PTSD is fast becoming dogma because of popular culture and trendy lefty academic fads in English departments. I find that troubling speaking as both a combat veteran and as a Classicist.

In this debate of nature versus nurture it can hardly be reasonable to conclude that a legionary would have experienced trauma in the same way as a modern day combat veteran – surely his vastly different upbringing, cultural background and combat experience would have resulted in a culturally unique variant of response to that trauma? So to state that the legionary *must* have suffered PTSD seems simplistic and poorly evidenced. Saying a Greek or Roman soldier’s exposure to close combat and the fact that war is hell wherever and whenever it is fought is not enough. Some men would undoubtedly have experienced trauma induced psychological disorder but what that response was, its nature, causes, symptoms, is simply impossible to know, given the current paucity of relevant sources.

Perhaps when we understand PTSD better we’ll have an ability to interpret that thin evidence and put it into a cultural and medical frame of reference - despite wildly different causal factors and conditioning to meet the unique stressors in each of the ancient and modern soldier’s experience of warfare - that will get us close to a definitive answer. Indeed, as we learn more about concussive brain injuries and slowly unravel the various causes of PTSD, I suspect that we may find the evidence will point to a lower frequency of PTSD in the ancient world than that experienced by our troops in the present day. Until then, to be honest, it’s a game of grim conjecture.

If your brother needs more help please DM me and we can discuss ways in which we can help him find the right fit. You already know about the paras own charity for its veterans, Support Our Paras, so nothing I can add there that you don’t already know. My one recommendation would be to reach out to ex-Para and UK SFSG (special forces operator), Dave Radband. Radders is good egg and has used social media to become an outstanding mental health advocate for ex-British veterans.

Once again my apologies for the long answer in two parts but it’s an issue that’s very close to my heart when I think of my own fortunate homecoming from war and I remember those who didn’t come home...and those still fighting the war after they come home.

Thanks for your question.

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ottosuricatoblog · 4 years

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"Is it that obvious?"

@everyhowlmarksthedead asked : Hola, amor mío 😏 Aquí va una petición que me encantaría que escribas pARA MÍÍ. Spaniards assemble. Since we are in english territory, let's make a request. What about reader fucking in love with Chibs, practicing with Jax to ask him out. And he hear them. You know, like those movie scenes of a typical película un domingo a las cuatro de la tarde en Antena 3 de procedencia alemana 😏😂✨

Author: I just wanted to thank everyone for the feedback! I'm so glad you guys like "I don't sulk". Remember that my requests are open for Chibs, so if there's something you want me to write about, just let me know!!☺

Words: 1111 lol

Warning: language, kissing

You've known Jax since you two were 3 years old. He had always been your best friend, the one you could always count on.

You knew what SAMCRO did, you weren't an idiot, even if Jax always tried to move you away from the club. At one point, he stopped trying and finally started to let you hang out with his brothers, the ones you had heard so much about. At first you were a bit self-conscious, but when you got to know the boys you started to get along with them quickly.

One of the guys was your favorite, that's for sure. When you first met the Scotsman, you couldn't take your eyes off him. He exudes sex appeal, even when he isn't even trying to be sexy. As you got to know him, you discovered that he's also funny and very caring. God, you have the hots for him. After your last relationship, you promised yourself you wouldn't fall for anyone, at least not in a while, but you couldn't help it. Even if you didn't want to admit it, you were madly in love with Filip Telford.

⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹

As usual, you are hanging out with Juice at the clubhouse waiting for Jax to finish off his business. You hear some motorcycles' engines and a moment after you see Chibs coming into the place followed by Tig and Jax.

You are quite sure that your love for the Scotsman isn't too obvious, considering yourself a fair actress.

In effect, Chibs doesn't have a clue about your feelings for him.

However, there is someone who isn't buying your "I'm not in love with you" face, and that someone is your best friend. Jax had caught you looking at the Scotsman with goofy eyes a couple times now, so he decides to act.

"Hey guys!" You greet the boys.

"Hi darlin'." Chibs greets back with a smile.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a sec?" Jax asks, and you know he has something up his sleeve.

"Sure." You shrug and follow him to the corridor towards his dorm.

Jax points out for you to get in the dorm and half closes the door. You wait for him to talk, your eyebrows up on your forehead.

"Something you wanna tell me?" He asks with a smug smile in his face.

"No." You shrug, realizing that you hadn't tricked your best friend and where the conversation was heading. "Is that all?" You said starting to walk towards the door.

Jax's smile widens. If he wasn't totally sure before, he sure as hell is now. "C'mon, Y/N. I know you better than I know myself." He says with confidence.

You just stand there, looking at the blond man with a death stare.

"Something to do with some Scotsman, maybe?" He keeps going.

"How do you know?" You finally give in. "Is it that obvious?"

He laughs, happy that he's gotten you to confess. "You can't keep anything from me, sweetheart. You should know that by now."

You just stare at him, arms crossed around your chest.

"How long have you been in love with Chibs, eh?" He continues. "I hadn't seen you like this since that Chris boy in high school."

Chibs, who was looking for Jax because of some phone call he had received, frozes when he hears his name.

"I..." You blush. "He's just so handsome and funny... I can't help it, Jax. He gets me everytime."

The Scotsman, listening to the conversation through the door, raises his eyebrows in surprise.

"So ask him out." Jax says. As if it was the easiest thing in the world.

"Yeah sure." You reply, skeptical. "I go and ask the sexiest man I've ever met out. Just like that. Have you lost your fucking mind Jackson?" You raise your voice, frustrated. "He probably doesn't even know my name. I'm just the president's friend who is around sometimes."

"First of all," Jax starts. "I am the sexiest man you've ever met." His smug smirk is back. "And in second place, he does know your name, Y/N. He's always asking me how you're doing. I don't think I'd be wrong if I say he's crazy about you too." Jax continues, taking your hands into his. "Baby, you're gorgeous, funny and the most fucking intelligent person I know. Chibs would be a fool if he didn't want you."

You feel tears coming to your eyes, and you hug your idiot best friend. Maybe he was right, maybe you stand a chance.

In that very moment, you hear a knock on the door, and you see Chibs' head sticking out.

"Jackie boy, we need ye out. Nero just called." He says.

"Comin'". Jax kisses your cheek and winks at you, leaving you and Chibs in the room.

"Y/N." He starts. "I've got to talk to ye about something. Can ye wait 5 minutes?" He asks with that smile you love.

"Yeah, sure." You reply, smiling back.

⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹⊹

When Chibs returns to the dorm, you're sitting in Jax's bed, running your fingers through your hair. Chibs sighs, doubting he's ever seen something sexier.

"Hey there." He says, suddenly feeling a bit shy. "Can I sit down with ye?"

You nod nervously.

"I don't know how to start..." He says, rubbing his face. "First, promise me that ye are going to let me talk, aye? No interruptions." He turns to look at your eyes.

"Okay," you say, "no interruptions".

"Here we go..." He whispers. "I've heard what ye said about me. When ye were talking to Jackie." You open your eyes in suprise, suddenly feeling embarrassed, breaking eye contact. "Don't be embarrassed, look at me, love." He says, holding your face in his hands. "I'm crazy about ye, Y/N. Have been for a while. I just didn't think ye felt the same. Ye're so beautiful, love. I'm better when ye're around." He caresses your face with his thumbs. "Can I kiss ye?" He asks with that smile you'd do anything for.

You smile and reply to his question by kissing him passionately, running your hands through his hair.

When the kiss breaks, you can't help but whisper. "I'm so in love with you, Filip Telford." He smiles and kisses you again.

"That's lucky, darlin', cause I'm in love with ye." He smiles against your mouth.

Author: I'm just feeling like doing a smutty second part to this one, what do you guys think? Maybe Jax waking in on them?🤭🤭🤭

Taglit: @chibsytelford @everyhowlmarksthedead @bigcreatorwombatdreamer you wanna be added, just let me know💘

Second part here

#chibs x reader #soa chibs #chibs telford #filip telford #sons of anarchy #tommy flanagan

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everettlance · 3 years

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A LIVING DEATH // SELF-PARA

The flashbacks don’t take long to start. For a person who’s been transplanted into a new body, it becomes increasingly difficult to tell what’s real and what isn’t. He isn’t real because he can’t be real. The laws of possibility state strictly that the dead remain dead, and yet, here he is. The dead, walking through an empty home.

His new house is for him and him only. His parents and several siblings meet him at the train station when he gets home but he refuses to speak to any of them.

He can’t listen to what they have to say. He doesn’t want to hear it, whatever empty words they might have for him, or worse, if they have love.

No one is allowed in. Maverick is not allowed in, not even allowed to talk to him. He walks past Agatha’s empty house, the lights darkened. He often finds himself in Orpheus’s bed, discovering his new body, discovering that the only thing approaching pleasure is in the carnal. Nights slip by. His old weed dealer is happy to see him.

The first flashback is in his cavernous bedroom, which he learns is cold in the winters. It feels like the bitter mountaintop, and suddenly the covers are not simply cotton, but rather, a blanket of snow, and before him is Seraphina: Take care of yourself Everett, and I’ll catch you in the next lifetime, okay?

How? His voice is an echo and is begging. It is raw, he is raw. He’s not sure if he’s speaking aloud or not, but no one is here to confirm. How do I take care of myself, Sera, how?

She is trapped and so is he. She beneath the boulder, he beneath the memory of it. He knows he isn’t here but he doesn’t know how to get out; his heart pounds his ribcage as if begging to escape it.

Sera doesn’t tell him how to take care of himself. She doesn’t tell him how to run away. She doesn’t say anything but tells him, over and over: Even Crash Justice can’t muscle his way through this one.

And what if he can’t?

Hours spent paralyzed beneath the memories. It’s Seraphina, then it’s Marino, falling from the ferris wheel. It’s Margot, torn to shreds by the wolves. It’s Burly, slicing at his face — the scar recreates itself every time he looks at himself in the mirror, not a memory but a present happening. It’s Memphis’s silent begging. It’s Agatha:

You better fucking win.

I did it, he says, on his knees like he’s praying in his room, the bathroom, the living room, the kitchen, I did it. Now what?

No one will tell him. None of the ghosts know the answer because none of them lived.

Sloane and Tommy visit him together and he kills them both again. And again. And again. It becomes more difficult to discern reality from unreality. He tries to write things down: I am here, I am real, I am Everett Lance and I won the Hunger Games.

But it isn’t true.

He is Everett Lance and he lost the Hunger Games.

Both things cannot be true.

They are.

On the outside of the house is latticework up which vines crawl. It’s easy to grip, easier to fall from, and the first time he tries it, escaping the memory of Memphis, who lays dying on the beach in his bedroom, he nearly falls. He catches himself on a pipe, but in the moment where freefall felt certain, Memphis disappears. The sand is gone. Only he is here. Moments later, he’s on the roof.

He knows that he is losing it. The roof doesn’t care. He lays flat and looks at the stars. He looks at the tattoo on his arm and traces the waves with his fingers. This is how he knows he is a person, even if he doesn’t know who that person is.

Maverick leaves for Seven. It’s better this way.

There’s a thunderstorm one afternoon. The lightning sends him in two directions at once: he is in the forest, holding Delta’s body as she dies, and he is in the middle of a town, watching the sky spin.

Whose memories entrap him?

He climbs onto the roof, away from the bodies that pile in his room. The lattice is slippery and he nearly falls twice, three times. The roof is slippery. No one comes to stop him. He doesn’t die. He’s lucky.

The stylist comes and asks if he’s more loyal to the red or blue team, and which he’d like to wear on his Victory Tour.

He tells her to put him in black.

He goes for long runs. He drinks himself to sleep. He lets himself cry. Nothing helps. Only the roof, slippery, steep, his weight and himself clinging to the shingles, can quiet the other tributes and drown out the Arenas.

He goes hiking, blazing his own trail. He finds steep cliffs and sits on the edges. He wonders about falling. He doesn’t. He goes to the shooting range, hits the first target and drops the gun.

Never again.

Life moves both forwards and backwards at a dizzying pace. He ignores texts, calls. The Peacekeeping Academy wants to make a hero of him but he’s read what they said when he died. They dismissed him, said he was a traitor for volunteering.

He is a traitor but he’s not sure to whom.

Spring begins, though he will never again trust the seasons.

The day he leaves for the Victory Tour, District Two is shrouded in cold weather, common for this time of year, but when he arrives in District Twelve, warmth is beginning in the upper reaches of Panem.

It’s an honor to be here today…

In Twelve, no one stands on the podium before Margot’s photo. He doesn’t know who or what to look at and the ringing in his ears is his own panic. He speaks quickly. He doesn’t succumb to the memory of Margot’s death, though he can feel the dirt in his hands as he digs.

I’m so privileged to have been chosen out of so many tributes to come back for the Quell…

In Eleven, the weather is even warmer. Trees blossom but there are no green leaves or pink flowers in the square where the stage is set up. Apple’s face looks at him from the projection, but as in Twelve, no one stands before it. It was only her, the only tribute from her District chosen to return. He had told her he hadn’t wanted to kill. It feels like a lie now.

My love for Panem kept me going through the Arena…

In Eight, there are more faces: Marino, Nikita, Franklin, Jeannie. The four of them stare at him and he tries to avoid eye contact. For a moment he can’t tell if they’re real or not. Or if they were ever real. The cards: he reads from the speech he’s been given. Nikita and Franklin have no family present, but Hunter Twill stands in front of Jeannie’s picture in sunglasses, shooting him a thumbs up. In the recap, he saw Jeannie explode, but couldn’t see her face. He wishes he could have seen it. Could have buried her like he’d buried Delta and Margot. It was a dignity that she deserved but would never get. And Nikita, stronger than him, smarter than him — should she be here right now instead of him? Should they all? 39 Victors rather than him, it feels like more than a fair trade. And Marino’s family, he knows they’re looking at him. He knows that Margot is not the only guilty one. He’s the only one remaining to bear the burden. It’s too heavy. In Eight, he stumbles, stutters, the world tilts and he sees stars — the speech is cut short, he is brought off the stage, excuses are made for him that he doesn’t deserve. His new body is checked over, questioned: are you alright? Do you feel alright? They think it’s because he’s a clone, and he doesn’t know how to say it’s because of everything else they’ve done to him.

Even though it was difficult, the trials that the Gamemakers set us were always fair…

In Seven, Alder and Maverick are there. Maverick tries to talk to him but he doesn’t want to speak. He has been given no cards to tell him how to face his old best friend. Alder leaves him be which feels like more mercy than he deserves. Burly’s family stands tall and proud; they glare at him. He can’t look, he can’t look. He leaves Seven as quickly as he can.

Panem has always been strong through trying times, whether or not the trials we face are fair...

In Six, he walks onto the stage and is immediately in the woods of the Arena. Sloane is on the ground to his left, Tommy to his right. There is blood all over his hands, all over his notecards. Amphora’s family, her smiling face, she looks so happy. How could she be happy here in the Arena? Tommy’s family stands in front of his picture; a wolf, decaying like him, prowls in front of them. Hadn’t he mentioned a mother? He feels sick. He forces himself to look because he doesn’t want to be a coward. He adds one thing into his speech:

I’m sorry.

On the way to Four, he makes a request. As the train rumbles towards the ocean, preparations are made. One wish can be granted, surely, for the Victor of the Quarter Quell, the boy on whom the Capitol is leaning to bring peace. When he gets onstage, Delta’s face is one of four. The Dunes are there, he recognizes them by the family resemblance, and thinks of Mako in the Capitol, happy. The Blues pull his attention, though, and he sees immediately that she gets her red hair from her family. They do not look at him unkindly, and after the speech, for the first time, he lingers. He tells them he thought it would be nice; to remember her. That he wishes she would have been brought back. That she deserved the Victory. She deserves to be remembered. Above him, lightning flashes but he digs fingernails into palms and forces himself to remain here, in the present; it’s what they deserve.

The Blues invite him into their house. It is small and comfortable. They offer to show him her room but he doesn’t want to see, not yet. He says this: Not yet. Maybe I’ll come back. They thank him for protecting her and sticking by her side. In their home for the first time in months he feels like he’s real. He apologizes for not being able to save her and cries.

We are better as a united nation than we are as individual parts, and I was better in the Arena with my allies than I was alone.

In Three, he finds Seraphina’s parents. She’d asked him to tell them she loved him and he won’t break a promise, even if his hands are shaking. Even if his lunch threatens to make a reappearance as he faces, directly, the parents of the girl he killed. The McCabes are kind, though, understanding; they just want to know what he and their daughter spoke about and did. They haven’t seen her in ten years, never expected to get her back. He tells them about swimming in the pool, eating the last cookie and facing her wrath. It feels nice to have a good story to tell.

The relationship between the Districts and the Capitol is one of peace, mutual protection, and balance.

In One, many faces, many families, look back at him from the crowd. He is tired, his body is exhausted and the travel has worn him out. Throughout the trip he has been tested, they’ve taken blood draws and measured his heart rate, had him undergo various physical examinations to be sure that all is well. They want to make sure, they say, that the stress doesn’t wear him out in this new body. He thinks it’s funny and laughs, but they don’t seem to get what’s so humorous about it. Diana’s face; she had offered him mercy, hadn’t hurt him though she could have. In front of Mandi’s face is a crowded podium; she was right about having a big family. There are so many people who love her; his knees threaten to buckle under the weight of all that grief, but he holds it together on the stage. He’s getting good at pretending.

It’s one I am proud to be a part of as your new reigning Victor of the Quarter Quell.

He returns home last, and even though many of the Districts saw warmer temperatures, it’s snowing when he walks onto the stage to give his speech one last time, this time to his home. Before him are the faces of Lionel, Agatha, and Isabela. Only Isa has people standing before hers, her family. The snow falling — he wonders if the Arena is broken, because it’s supposed to be springtime now — doesn’t deter the crowds. The District is proud of their Victor, proud to have brought it home for the Quell and the second time in a year. Cain is there, Orpheus is there, Trixie’s there, he’s the only one who feels like he’s missing. Where is he? Where is this person they’re celebrating?

The speech is not his. It’s bad, cliche, and it feels sour in his mouth. In the other Districts, they hated it; a few people even booed, though they were swiftly punished for it. In Two, though, he sees people nodding. He sees hands over hearts. He feels sick. Sick in this place that made him. Sick with the altitude of the heights they’ve lifted him to.

Afterwards he is only allowed one night at home before he has to go to the Capitol for the ball. In the empty house, they are all speaking. Carlos, Travela, Memphis, Marino, Burly, Sloane, Seraphina, and Tommy. Their fingers press against the wallpaper, they want to get out, but they can’t any more than he can. Agatha is stuck telling him, over and over, to win. He’d better fucking win.

Why? he asks, but she never has a good answer for him.

He climbs up onto the roof. He looks at the stars and tries to place himself in the universe.

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eleathyra-art · 3 years

Photo

Review by Jô P.: Fragments of your Soul by E. S. Erbsland

“Life gave Arvid a lemon, and she made a Caipirinha.”

(The original review is in Portuguese, so below is a google translate version in English. Original far below, and link to the source here.)

The review:

Good Morning! I'm not one to comment or create posts... But I stayed up until 03:00 in the morning, reading Fragments of Your Soul.

I want to thank the PL and Shifters teams. Well I'll try to make a brief review, without spoilers. From now on, forgive me if I write or type something wrong. I only slept 3 hours tonight... Anyway, let's go.

Is the book worth reading? YEA! MUCH!

Is the book too big? YEA! But I guarantee you all: no page or scene is unnecessary.

Do you have hot scenes? Few.

It's romantic? It depends on what each reader means by romantic.

Does it have a happy ending? oh! This is the cat's jump!!!! What is happiness? Guimarães Rosa says that "...happiness, we find it in times of chance." AND? READ TO UNDERSTAND.

I'll try to explain...The book follows the structure of ALL books that recreate, or create new mythologies. Anyone who has read Tolkien, Lewis, Frank Herbert will understand. I think it follows the structure of Scandinavian sagas (beowulf type), but I could be wrong...

When I started reading the book I realized where the plot was going: first, the protagonist, Arvid is introduced in her world. His characteristics, mainly psychological (interesting that in her case, the physical doesn't matter, because we'll be very interested in Loke's physical characteristics, and only later, we'll notice his emotional characteristics....). Then how she ended up in the Shadow World. Then the Arvid saga begins: learning to live in a new world, new customs, new languages, finding a way to return to the World of Light. With that, we see her interacting with the other characters.

Eventually, we meet the antagonist, who is also the protagonist (read!). But we're STILL focused on Arvid's new life and the challenges and heartaches she has to go through. Halfway through the book we realize that NOTHING is what it seems, and the story shifts focus and we begin to follow Arvid and Loke's interaction. And from then on I can't say anything else, because I'll give spoilers.

But why is the book good? Because despite dealing with legends, myths, supernatural beings, all characters are in the same struggle as us: earning a living, getting a job, going to college, paying the bills, falling in love with the wrong person, falling in love with the person right, wrong with the right person, right with the wrong person, and, above all, live with every act and choice of everyday life. We've all done things we regret. We've all regretted that we didn't do some things. And we've all had to close the past and understand that when we make a decision, we must back it up and learn to put an end to what's over. And moving on, even when we're finished physically, emotionally, because the world won't stop because we're sad, desperate, or in mourning. The world goes on. The pain is ours but the happiness is also ours. That's why I liked the book: life gave Arvid a lemon and she made a caipirinha out of it. She did what she had to do, with what she could do at that moment. And Loke, the god of Chaos, was what he was: the chaos we all carry inside of us: unfulfilled wishes, or very well-fulfilled wishes that took us the wrong way.

I warn you here: Loke is straight-forward. Many will be bothered by things and revelations about them. I read it myself and said: what is it like? But keep an open mind. Accept the God of Chaos without prejudice. We all have a dark, chaotic little place inside us. Anyone who has done psychoanalysis knows what I'm talking about.

Loke represents the unconscious... Arvid the conscious. Only in this book, the id is stronger. It's up to Arvid to bring the balance... Have you read The Power of Myth? The Hero with a Thousand Faces? These books tell us that we are all on a lonely journey in search of ourselves. When we put together the fragments of our souls, we are whole and we can love each other and love each other. So... we can say that Arvid and Loke, each in their own way, were on a lonely journey that, at some point, they found each other. What were 2 paths merged into one. And they knew how to appreciate the beauty of this meeting, transforming the 2 paths into a single one...

For me, the ending is VERY ROMANTIC and the book is worth it. Insist. Read a different book. Books like that are good for the soul. They bring our fragments together and make us whole, with a smile on our lips, because in the end, we realize that we all just want the hope of being happy. I don't pretend to sound cultured, erudite, nor am I a psychologist/psychoanalyst, but this book reminded me of so many things I learned about psychoanalysis!

Loke is not immoral or chaotic: he is what he is. Someone with his power (shifter and that's the only spoiler I'm going to give) can appreciate life, sex, nature, in a way that we mere humans would never understand. What for us is immoral, chaotic, dirty, perverse, for him, is a fragment of his own soul. I believe his emotions are very basic. He kills because he can, he has sex and falls in love (in many ways - READ) simply because he can. That's why he's all emotion (ID).

As for Arvid, the human, theoretically like all of us, could do the same: kill, love, whatever. But what prevents and prevents us is the deep moral sense and innate charity (EGO). Not that Arvid is a completely rational being. She is passionate, violent and loyal. But her moral sense is what Loke lacks, and Loke's self-centeredness is what Arvid lacks. In other words: a soul is a jigsaw puzzle of fragments of light and shadows, of morality and immorality. Of good thoughts, and perverted thoughts. Of purity and perversity. Of goodness and badness. What makes us human is the ability to know that everyone has a light within them, even when we only see apparent darkness. Arvid saw the light within Loke and Loke saw the darkness within Arvid. Accepting this in yourself and in others is the great adventure of life.

But, more than that, I believe the great lesson of the book is: HAPPINESS IS A DAILY FIGHT. There is no such thing as an entirely happy period. Over 24 hours a day, we experience good, bad, bad, stressful, because life is like that. Alongside the passionate kiss of his partner (o), there is the perrengue of not having money to buy the shoe; beside the job approval, there is the hassle of waking up at 5 am to take the bus. That's life. It's knowing how to live: knowing when to invest with everything for a dream and when to put a stone on the subject, because the subject is over. That's Arvid's great virtue: knowing when to insist and when to give up. This is the lesson that we should take for life... because the subject is over. That's Arvid's great virtue: knowing when to insist and when to give up. This is the lesson that we should take for life... because the subject is over. That's Arvid's great virtue: knowing when to insist and when to give up. This is the lesson that we should take for life. Review of Jô P.

Original Portuguese text:

Bom dia! Não sou de comentar ou criar posts....Mas fiquei acordada até às 03 horas da manhã, lendo Fragments of Your Soul. Quero agradecer às equipes do PL e do Shifters . Bom vou tentar fazer uma breve resenha, sem dar spoilers. Desde já, me perdoem se eu escrever ou digitar algo errado. Dormi só 3 horas essa noite....Enfim, vamos lá. O livro vale a pena ser lido? SIM! MUITO! O livro é muito grande? SIM! Mas eu garanto a todas vocês: nenhuma página ou cena é desnecessária. Tem cenas hot? Poucas. É romântico? Depende do que cada leitor entende por romântico. Tem final feliz? ah! Esse é o pulo do gato!!!! O que é felicidade? Guimarães Rosa diz que "...felicidade, a gente encontra em horas de acaso." E? LEIAM PARA ENTENDER. Vou tentar explicar...O livro segue a estrutura de TODOS os livros que recriam, ou criam novas mitologias. Quem leu Tolkien, Lewis, Frank Herbert, vai entender. Eu acho que ele segue a estrutura das sagas escandinavas (tipo Beowulf), mas posso estar enganada...Quando comecei a ler o livro eu percebi onde o enredo ia levar: em primeiro lugar, a protagonista, Arvid é apresentada em seu mundo. Suas características, principalmente psicológicas (interessante que no caso dela, o físico não importa, porque vamos ficar muito interessadas nas características físicas do Loke, e só depois, vamos reparar nas características emocionais dele....). Depois, como ela foi parar no Mundo das Sombras. Daí começa a saga da Arvid: aprender a viver num mundo novo, costumes novos, línguas novas, achar um jeito de voltar para o Mundo da Luz. Com isso, vemos ela interagindo com os outros personagens. Lá pelas tantas, conhecemos o antagonista, que também é protagonista (leiam!). Mas AINDA estamos centrados na nova vida de Arvid e os desafios e tristezas pelos quais ela tem que passar. Na metade do livro percebemos que NADA é o que parece, e a história muda de foco e começamos a acompanhar a interação de Arvid e Loke. E a partir daí eu não posso falar mais nada, porque vou dar spoilers. Mas por que o livro é bom? Porque apesar de tratar de lendas, mitos, seres sobrenaturais, todos os personagens estão na mesma luta que nós: ganhar o pão de cada dia, conseguir trabalho, entrar na faculdade, pagar as contas, se apaixonar pela pessoa errada, se apaixonar pela pessoa certa, errar com a pessoa certa, acertar com a pessoa errada, e, principalmente, conviver com cada ato e escolha do dia a dia. Todos nós já fizemos coisas das quais nos arrependemos. Todos nós já nos arrependemos de não termos feito algumas coisas. E todos nós já tivemos que encerrar o passado e entender que quando tomamos uma decisão, devemos bancá-la e aprender a colocar um ponto final no que acabou. E a seguir em frente, mesmo quando a gente está acabado fisicamente, emocionalmente, porque o mundo não vai parar porque estamos tristes, desesperados, ou em luto. O mundo continua. A dor é nossa mas a felicidade também é só nossa. É por isso que eu gostei do livro: a vida deu um limão pra Arvid e ela fez uma caipirinha com ele. Ela fez o que tinha que fazer, com o que dava pra fazer naquele momento. E Loke, o deus do Caos, era o que era: o caos que todos nós carregamos dentro de nós: desejos não realizados, ou desejos muito bem realizados que nos levou para o lado errado. Já aviso aqui: Loke é direto na fala. Muitos vão se incomodar com as coisas e revelações sobre eles. Eu mesma lia e falava: como é que é? Mas tenham a mente aberta. Aceitem o Deus do Caos sem preconceitos. Todos nós temos um lugarzinho escuro e caótico dentro de nós. Quem já fez psicanálise sabe do que eu estou falando. Loke representa o inconsciente....Arvid o consciente. Só que nesse livro, o id é mais forte. Cabe a Arvid trazer o equilíbrio.....Vocês já leram O Poder do Mito? O Herói de Mil Faces? Esses livros nos dizem que todos nós estamos numa jornada solitária em busca de nós mesmos. Quando juntamos os fragmentos de nossas almas, ficamos inteiros e podemos nos amar e amar o outro. Então...podemos dizer que Arvid e Loke, cada um a seu jeito, estavam numa jornada solitária que, em algum momento, se encontraram. O que eram 2 caminhos se fundiram em um. E eles souberam apreciar a beleza desse encontro, transformando os 2 caminhos em um único....Para mim, o final é MUITO ROMÂNTICO e o livro vale a pena. Insistam. Leiam um livro diferente. Livros assim fazem bem pra alma. Juntam os nossos fragmentos e nos tornam inteiros, com um sorriso nos lábios, porque no final, percebemos que todos nós só queremos a esperança de sermos felizes. Não tenho a pretensão de parecer culta, erudita, e nem sou psicóloga/psicanalista, mas esse livro me lembrou tantas coisas que eu aprendi sobre psicanálise! Loke não é imoral ou caótico: ele é o que é. Alguém com o poder dele (metamorfo e esse é o único spoiler que eu vou dar), pode apreciar a vida, o sexo, a natureza, de uma maneira que nós, meros humanos, jamais compreenderíamos. O que para nós é imoral, caótico, sujo, perverso, para ele, é um fragmento da própria alma. Eu acredito que as emoções dele são muito básicas. Ele mata porque pode matar, ele faz sexo e se apaixona (de diversas maneiras - LEIAM), simplesmente porque ele pode. Por isso ele é todo emoção (ID). Já a Arvid, a humana, teoricamente como todos nós, poderia fazer o mesmo: matar, amar, sei lá. Mas o que a impede e nos impede é o profundo senso moral e a caridade inata (EGO). Não que a Arvid seja um ser completamente racional. Ela é apaixonada, violenta e leal. Mas o senso moral dela é o que falta em Loke, e o egocentrismo de Loke é o que falta em Arvid. Ou seja: uma alma é um quebra-cabeça de fragmentos de luz e sombras, de moralidade e imoralidade. De bons pensamentos, e pensamentos pervertidos. De pureza e perversidade. De bondade e maldade. O que nos torna humanos é capacidade de saber que todos tem uma luz dentro de si, mesmo quando só vemos a escuridão aparente. Arvid viu a luz dentro de Loke e Loke viu a escuridão dentro de Arvid. Aceitar isso em si mesmo e no outro, é a grande aventura da vida. Mas, mais do que isso, eu creio que a grande lição do livro é: A FELICIDADE É UMA LUTA DIÁRIA. Não existe um período inteiramente feliz. Ao longo de 24 horas do dia, passamos por sensações boas, ruins, péssimas, estressante, porque a vida é assim mesmo. Ao lado do beijo apaixonado da companheira (o), tem o perrengue de não ter dinheiro pra comprar o sapato; ao lado da aprovação no emprego, tem a chatice de acordar às 05 horas pra pegar o ônibus. A vida é isso. É saber viver: saber quando investir com tudo por um sonho e quando colocar uma pedra no assunto, porque o assunto acabou. Essa é a grande virtude da Arvid: saber quando insistir e quando desistir. Essa é a lição que deveríamos levar para a vida..... Resenha da Jô P.

#fragments of your soul #book review #loki #loki fanfic #norse mythology

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michalchvk · 3 years

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– ‘ this is not scary. you wanna know what’s scary ? heather sinclair in her granny panties after gym class. ‘

hi, i wrote this little self-para for paige’s fear street verse as part of @slaughtrd – which sadly didn’t get the chance to take off, but as a little happy halloween or something i thought i’d share it and save it here ♡ also, CLICK HERE for paige’s fear street playlist.

Paige is not really concerned about the job interview. After all, she’s a shoo-in for the position, considering her brother already works here – if anything, it’ll be good practice for her college interviews next year. She’s dressed the part, too – camp counselor chic, ponytail too tight, knee-high socks without a fold in them. Not that the camp director can see them from where they’re sitting behind the desk, but let it be known that Paige has thought about every detail of her appearance. This habit will probably follow her for the rest of her life : spending more time choosing an outfit than reading a job description, however, Paige will most likely find it to be effective. She has something you can’t buy – charisma !

“So, Paige, why do you want to work at Camp Lockheart?”

She knows how this question works. Paige sits up a little straighter, blonde ponytail swinging back and forth over her shoulders like a pendulum. ‘ Oh, that’s easy, ’ she beams – maybe she wasn’t supposed to say that out loud. ‘ I mean, aside from the obvious. I love Lockheart, I used to come here as a kid and I have so many FOND memories, swimming in the pond, kicking butt in the color war...competing in the talent show, which I should have won, by the way, ’ she rambles, a laugh escaping her lips like she’s telling a joke ( though she’s really not, she totally should have won. ) ‘ This place is just really special to me, so I want to make other people’s summers special, too. Oh, and all my friends are working here. ’ She punctuates the sentence with a gigawatt smile on glossed lips.

Paige will neglect to say that she needs the money and why. She’s self aware enough to know that it’s not appropriate for an interview, and even if it was, she doesn’t think she could talk about it. After all, this is all about putting her best foot forward and making the best out of a less-than-ideal situation.

“Okay, great. Now, the team here at Camp Lockheart is exactly that. A team. Would you consider yourself a team player, Miss Michaelton?”

Paige makes a face. ‘ Michalchuk. It’s Michalchuk, ’ she corrects.

“Right.”

Returning to her signature customer-service voice, she nods and returns back to the question. ‘ I’m totally a team player. For example, I’ve been the captain of my school’s Spirit Squad the past two years and we work amazingly together, the girls are great AND we have a ton of fun. I guess you could say that I’m sort of a natural leader, but I’m always open to collaboration. I play well with others, of course. ’ She hopes that’s said convincingly, but Paige does truly believe that she CAN get along with other people, she is a great collaborator as long as her team isn’t full of idiots. That’s just common sense. Anyway, she can feel herself nailing this interview, though even if she isn’t, Dylan’s recommendation is probably going to carry her through.

‘ Though you’ll have to mention to Dylan that we’re EQUALS. He can’t boss me around if I’m also a counselor, ’ she adds, a pointed look because she knows Dylan will try. However, she does take her role as younger sister quite seriously and sometimes that means being incorrigible until you get your way.

She cranes her neck as the camp director takes notes, trying to see what they might be writing about her. However, she can’t tell without being too obvious about it, so she just looks up at the ceiling as she waits. Was that a spider ? Ew. Paige opens her mouth to say something, but the director cuts her off.

“Now, as you know, there can be some pranks regarding the camp’s history. How would you deal with those?”

Paige’s lips part slightly at the question, one that she wasn’t expecting. She was ready to talk all about her greatest strengths ! ‘ Oh, you mean – the witch ? ’ she asks, eyebrows rising on her forehead. She can feel the director’s disapproving look burning into her and she knows that she’s got to recover quickly. ‘ Of course. What happened to Amanda was a terrible tragedy, duh, it’s not something that should be joked about. The pranks are just...silly camp traditions...kids just messing around – though, of course, so disrespectful to what happened. It just gives me the creeps, honestly. ’ Paige can feel the awkward silence settle in the room. After all, she remembers sitting around the campfire as a kid, listening to stories about the witch, walking out to the dock with her friends in the middle of the night, daring each other to go out. No one did, of course. Paige knows it’s not REAL, but there was just something in the air around there…

Better to not risk it.

‘ OKAY, what I’m saying is...there would be no tolerance for it. It’s just not something that should be joked about, so I wouldn’t hear a word about it from my campers. When it comes to ghost stories around the campfire, we won’t mention it at all. This is supposed to be a fun summer, after all. ’

The director seems satisfied with that answer, a nod of their head in confirmation as they make more notes on the pad in front of them. Paige once again tries to look, but to no avail, gaze drifting up towards the ceiling once again.

‘ There’s a spider in here, just so you know. ’

#𝚅𝙴𝚁𝚂𝙴: // fear street 1978 #* 🎀 / ⠀ 𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙀𝘿 𝙐𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 ⠀ ﹕ ⠀ ❪ ⠀ self paras. ⠀ ❫#🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻🎃👻

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thefairefolk-rp · 3 years

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Welcome to TFF, Bri! Your application for Orla Fang has been accepted!

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Nickname:

Bri

Age:

Pronouns:

She/hers

Timezone:

EST

Activity and Availability (Please answer in words as well as rating your availability from 1-10):

I am a relatively slow writer and I work full-time, but I’ve been looking for a way to write in community. This will definitely be a priority for me! So I’d say my availability will be at least 6/10. I’m totally new to rps and tumblr, so it might take me a while to get up to speed on … literally everything. But I’ll get there!

IC INFORMATION:

Desired Character:

Orla Fang

Second Choice Character:

Ingrid Faolan

What made you choose this character?:

Orla caught my interest because of her many contradictions. I really love the idea of a character who is so set on a goal, but has increasing doubts about it. Who is she when the goal is done? If the goal is never accomplished? Right now, in the middle of striving for it? She allows herself so little, but that’s unsustainable (even if she’s been at it her whole life). That’s great ground for a growth arc.

She’s definitely going to be haunted by a lot of her father’s behavior, and have some unprocessed feelings about whether his torment was self-inflicted, or even merited. Due to her father’s disgrace, she has lived 600 years in a place she was taught not to call home, while her “real” home remains out of reach. Now, she’s in a Clan where family means very little, but it’s her driving value! I’m also excited to write all the little clashes and complements that come out of her taste for the fancy things of nobility and her more rugged, battle-ready life in the Wildlands.

Her goal might be to return to the Seelie court in favor, but her loyalty is not to the Seelie court — it’s to her family, and her late father. Add in the recent rocky reputation of good Queen Mab and the fact that the Wolf Clan allied with the Unseelie in the war, and Orla could really ally with anyone.

I also love the slight parallel between her and Luna Crow, made all the better for the blackmail dynamic between them. Both are pretending to be someone they’re not, and living in realities they only tentatively accept. I saw that Luna isn’t taken right now, but that’s still an exciting direction for the future!

Her aesthetic also really interested me. In keeping with some of the advice I read in a blitz of rp-101 articles, I’ve started a pinterest board and playlist for inspiration. Links here :)

Pinterest board: https://www.pinterest.com/brialikescheese/orla/

Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5ralXJE5Uyo3D1YbfbxwgI?si=Z8btNQVVSDyIPIBFKIUXXw

Are there any changes you would like to make?:

Nope!

Questions/Comments:

Do you have any more resources available or examples of gif chatting?

What if I can’t find a lot of gifs/images of my face claim?

Do you recommend looking through other characters’ blogs to get a sense of how people start and continue plot threads? That seems really intimidating to me! Also, I don’t exactly know the ins and outs of reblogging and replying. But I’ll get there.

If I say something in my para that isn’t true (contradicted by earlier things) or not super convenient to future storytelling, will somebody tell me, and will I be able to edit it?

If my application is accepted, should I wait until the current event is over to kind of leap in? Starting cold intimidates me too. Are there any guidelines, recommendations, or examples for a starter?

Is it common practice for people in this rp to plot or worldbuild together? I guess I’m trying to gauge the degree to which people prefer to plan out a detail or respond to it directly in the text. I’m sure it depends on personal preference, timing, and the importance of the detail too.

Is it okay to create random NPC characters to facilitate scenes in (self)paras? I’ve seen people mention unnamed guards etc., but what about recurring minor named characters?

I’ve seen xkit around a lot. Do you recommend that?

Writing Sample (Must be 300 words or more, third person limited, in the character you’re auditioning for’s point of view):

Orla ran a hand over the braids coiled at her neck, fingers catching on jeweled pins. One came loose. She turned it over in her palm — a silver branch twined around sapphires and diamonds. In the dim light of the carriage, its glittering gems seemed to laugh at her misfortune. Once again, she’d left the Seelie court with little more than petty gossip to show for it. No matter. She would return.

The carriage pitched on the cobblestones, growing uneven as they left Wisteria behind. Orla watched the gold arches and shimmering lanterns give way to thorn thickets and thin creeks at the edge of the Wildlands. Soon, these too would vanish, replaced by mountains, rolling mist, and ever-taller pines.

Until then, Orla was left to dwell on the city she was promised.

Orla passed the silver pin wordlessly to Sionnach, who sprawled beside her in comfortable silence. Sionnach slipped the pin into a leather pouch. She would know its proper place in Orla’s room, and see that it returned there.

“I will be late to the fires tonight,” Orla said.

“Of course,” Sionnach replied, but raised a brow. “I hope not too late. Your sparring partners need to keep their skills sharp.”

“Not too late,” Orla agreed.

“Good. You promised me a spar, remember.” Sionnach grinned. “And it will get less and less friendly the more you keep me waiting.”

Orla pressed her lips to avoid smiling.

“I’ll be there when you’re warmed up. You’ll need it.”

In the Wildlands, Orla disembarked from the carriage. If she were a mortal, or simply less attuned to the subtle cues exchanged between a warrior’s body and environment, the slim points of her shoes might have sunk into the earth, unbalancing her. Instead, she allowed a moment to savor the way the ground met her weight — with just enough give to ensure it could push back.

Sionnach followed. She tossed a handful of honey-braised carrots to the harnessed elk at the carriage head. She laughed as they nosed the matted grass and pine needles, and patted their necks. In Wisteria, Orla had pretended not to notice Sionnach pocketing food from the feast table while the nobles tittered and scoffed away. Gossip and carrots. Those were her spoils.

Within the round walls of her tent, Orla exchanged her court garb for sparring leathers and sat at her desk. Her eyes fell on the stack of books in its center. The spines were mismatched: one of green leather and another of brushed grey suede; still others wrapped in birchbark, woven reeds, and the stretched, pebbled skin of an unknown reptile. The casual looker would never guess they were all penned by the same author, which suited their purpose. Their one unifying mark had long since faded, but if Orla touched the spines, her fingers could still find the depressions of the name. In the right light — one candle, lit across the room, or the moon as it set — tiny flecks told of a time when the name was written in full gold leaf.

Azriel Black.

A name she hadn’t spoken aloud in quite some time.

That wouldn’t change today. She pulled out the journal bound in grey suede and thumbed the pages, skimming for the names of the nobles she had seen at court. Though the script itself was neat, reading it was no small act. Text filled a page and even turned the corner to fill it crosswise. Arrows arched between names and fell on diagrams and symbols. It got worse as the text went on. Some of the last journals, Orla could barely stand to touch. She hated the ache in her chest they produced.

There. The names she was looking for. In the margins Orla wrote down all the details she remembered, even the most frustrating and inane. Lord so-and-so wore a waistcoat with abalone buttons, possibly sourced from that contentious new colony. Lady such-and-such laughed at a tasteless joke and stood guard by the pomegranate puff pastries all night.

She wrote until she ran out of white space. Just as well. Orla closed the book, and then her eyes. These fae were welcomed to city life, taking the parties and pastries as facts of life — things that were owed to them, by name, birth, and the guilelessness that kept them from ever hearing whispers of treason, let alone mustering the will to whisper it themselves.

She slipped the book between its neighbors and went in search of a weapon to suit her mood. Something heavy, tonight. Blunt. Court had soured her appetite for delicacy and grace.

One day, these journals and parties would amount to something. Everything would change.

Until then, the fires were lit, and Sionnach was waiting.

#accepted #lsrpg #literate rp #lsrp

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famedbasearchive · 4 years

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OUR SONGS: EPISODES 7 & 8

Timeline: November 9, 2020, to December 12, 2020

On-Set Filming Dates: November 9, December 12

Deadline: December 10, 11:59PM KST

Those involved in the main cast of Our Songs this month may earn up to 13 points total for writing, by the end of December 10 KST:

Completions of the two interviews included in the in-character prompt. (1 point for the first interview & 2 points for the second, up to 3 points total)

Up to three solo paras of 400+ words based on filming for episodes 5 & 6. (2 points each, up to 6 points total).

Up to two threads of six posts (three per participant, including the starter) with another muse in the main cast based on the Our Songs episodes 7 and 8 schedule. (2 points each, up to 4 points total)

Please remember the number of the above tasks completed by each muse will factor into the final rankings. These do not count toward monthly limits or toward normal schedule points. All posts for this task block should be tagged with #fmdos4.

All muses in the roleplay (excluding remaining main cast of the show) this month may earn up to 4 points total for writing, by the end of December 10 KST (please read the information in this post for context!):

Completions of the two celebrity audience interviews filmed during the finale included here. (4 points total; both must be completed)

All posts for this task block should be tagged with #fmdos4.

IN-’VERSE INFO

Following the performances on November 7, everyone will have a little under an hour off-camera while the audience is instructed to vote for one song they liked the best. These votes will be calculated and combined with online track votes based on a weighted formula, and then the competitors are brought back out. They are first told the cast members that got the most votes in the live voting and the online voting as follows:

- Live audience vote: Jaewon (Wei) - Online vote: Joohwan (Aera)

The final rankings are then announced as follows to announce the safe competitors from third place to first:

3. Taeyong 2. Jaewon 1. Joohwan

Choi Jihoon congratulates the three safe competitors and dismisses them from the stage to bring the three remaining competitors on stage (Suji, Youngjoo, and Sun). The competitors currently on stage represent fourth place that will go onto the finale and the two competitors who will be eliminated and he reminds everyone of that. After building suspense, he announces that Suji has placed fourth and will be safe to go onto the next episode. This means Youngjoo and Sun have unfortunately been eliminated from the competition and the final overall ranking for the latest round is ultimately as follows:

1. Joohwan 2. Jaewon 3. Taeyong 4. Suji

On November 9, the remaining four idols will once again return to the “recording studio” set they first met at on their first day of filming. Competitors will once again be seated based on their rank (first place in seat one, second place in seat two, etc.). Basic pleasantries will be gone through on camera recounting the last round and reminding everyone of the rules and structure of the show before host Choi Jihoon will inform them of their third songwriting mission:

“The four of you sitting here with me represent the final four of the competition. You’ve been through three rounds of this now, showing your abilities to write to represent your own identity, to fit an assigned concept, and for someone else. For the final round, you’re free to write what you want to share with the world. There’s only one catch. You’ll be writing two songs for this round: one paired up with a fellow competitor and one solo song.”

Choi Jihoon then announces that first place and fourth place from last round must write and perform a duet together and the middle places must do the same. This means Joohwan and Suji have been partnered up, as have Jaewon and Taeyong.

Choi Jihoon then adds, “For your duet, you’re expected to embody both of your unique colors while finding a way to compromise and find a middle ground. For your solo song, you are expected to show whatever you want your final statement to the audience to be. For the first, and only, time during the run of the show, you’ll be releasing a music video for your solo song. Think about how you want the song to be represented, as you’ll be expected to talk with the directors and production team about how your song would best be expressed.”

The competitors are given time to react to the prompt before they are dismissed from the set. After this, each musician will film a talking head interview in a private room with a small team of cameras and producers where they are asked the following questions:

You’ve made the final four of the competition. Looking back on the competition so far and your performance, how do you feel about making it to the last round?

You’re required to work on a duet with one of the other competitors this round. What are your thoughts on who you’ve been paired with and how you think you’ll work together?

What are you current thoughts on what you want to do for your final solo song?

Which one of the other competitors do you see as your biggest competition for winner of the whole show?

From November 10 to November 23, all competitors are given time to work with their assigned partner on their duet song. They will be asked to do most of the work in one of the two competitors’ company studios so that they can be filmed on the stationary cameras set up, but both competitors will keep their self-cams as well. By November 24, the song should be fully produced, recorded, and mastered and submitted to the show’s production team.

On November 29, the final version of the duet songs will be released onto streaming sites and voting will open for online audiences.

From November 10 to November 30, all competitors are also given time to work on their solo song. As has been the case for the rest of the competition, there will be stationary cameras in their company studio and they’ll also be provided with a self-cam. All competitors will receive a visit from the host Choi Jihoon some time during the period of working on their solo song and he’ll talk to them one on one about their journey on the show, where they hope to go after it ends, what they’ve learned, and about their song. (admin note: This can be written out and muns are given permission to write Choi Jihoon’s actions and words as long as they are not major changes or departures from his established professional character. He should generally remain professional but personable as a normal competition show host. Things like deliberate rudeness, outbursts, or favoritism by him should be avoided, please! If you’re unsure whether something oversteps, please ask the admin.) A mostly complete draft of the song must be finished by November 23, as they will film the music video for their song as their schedule allows from November 24 to November 30. They are allowed to continue to fine tune the song during this time as the final mastered version is only due on December 1, but they won’t be allowed to make major changes that will clash with the music video.

All competitors will meet with a director some time before the filming of their music video to discuss the message, themes, and story line of their song in relation to a music video. While they will not be able to contribute extensively enough for any kind of credited production role on the project, such as coming up with the whole concept, creating a storyboard, contributing to filming or directing the MV, doing all of the styling, etc, they will get to discuss how they want to convey the song and will have power to veto the production crew’s ideas.

On December 6, the final version of the solo songs will be released onto streaming sites and the music videos will be uploaded to Youtube. Voting will open for online audiences.

On December 12, all competitors will go to same building as last round with with the same performance set, where their songs will be performed and voted on.

For the finale, each competitor will be given a certain number of tickets that will allow them to invite their group mates and celebrity friends to watch during the finale. Each company will also be given a certain number of tickets to allow additional artists in their rosters to attend for potential screen time. Idols attending as guests in the audience will not be given live audience voting privileges, but will be asked for their opinion on the performances in talking head interviews before and after the filming and possibly from the audience during the show.

The competitors will first perform their duets:

Joohwan & Suji - “Heart Stop”

Jaewon & Taeyong - “City Lights”

As each duo is performing, the other duo will be seated on stage watching. After one duo’s performance, the other will be asked to comment on the performance. Some members of the celebrity audience may also be asked for their opinions.

After the two performances, competitors will be given time to change and prepare for their solo stages as necessary. During this time, the audience will be asked to vote for with duet they preferred. After about an hour to an hour and a half, the solo performances will begin, which will be done in order by ranking from the last round:

Joohwan - “Love Me Harder”

Jaewon - “Jasmine”

Taeyong - “Nowhere”

Suji - “I Go”

For the solo performance round, the three competitors not currently performing will sit in the audience in the celebrity guest section instead of onstage. After each performance, the other three competitors will be asked for their thoughts, as will some of the celebrity guests in the audience.

Another break will be taken following the conclusion of all solo performances where each competitor will film another talking head interview (admin note: please wait to complete this interview until all songs have been chosen and listed above):

What was it like working with your partner on your duet? Do you feel you successfully showed both of your colors as performers and songwriters?

How does your solo song embody the final statement you decided you wanted to make as a competitor?

Do you have any regrets about either of your performances tonight? Do you have any regrets about your performance on the show as a whole?

How do you feel you’ve grown during your time competing on Our Songs?

Which of the other songs/performances caught your attention the most?

How will you feel if you win? How will you feel if you don’t?

OUT OF ‘VERSE INFO

As with past rounds, the rankings for the third round were determined by random generation for spots among who completed the most tasks. All main cast muses had completed all tasks for the third block, so the rankings were decided entirely by random picker. The only exception here is that the admin’s muse is not be eligible for the overall first place ranking. Proof shots of the name picker can be found here.

The winners for separate live voting and online voting were determined using weighted selection based on the randomly generated overall rankings. Rank one got six submissions into the generator, rank two got five, rank three got four, rank four got three, and the two eliminated muses got one submission each, and then names were drawn. Proof shots of the name picker for the live audience vote and online vote winners can be found at the link above.

For this task block you will need to submit two different forms, one for the duet and one for the solo. Please note that only one person from the duet has to submit a form, but everyone has to submit a form for their solo.

The following information will be requested for the duet: the song you would like to claim for your muses to create and perform for this round’s task as agreed upon between partners (and a performance reference if one is available) and the creative claims on it.

The following information will be requested for the solo: the song you would like to claim for your muses to create and perform for this round’s task (and a performance reference if one is available), the creative claims on it, and a link to the MV.

The form links will be uploaded here at 12AM KST November 14/10AM EDT November 13, twenty-four hours after this post goes up. The form for the duet song is here and the solo song form is here.

A reminder of the limits of creative claims on each muse for the show can be found here. If you think there is a mistake or if a song has been released that leads to a necessary update, please contact the main.

Songs Claimed:

WOODZ - Love Me Harder

Kei - I Go

Taemin - Heart Stop ft. Seulgi

DPR Live - Jasmine

TVXQ - City Lights ft. Taeyong (U-Know Yunho Solo)

Jung Jinwoo - Nowhere

SONG LIMITATIONS/REQUIREMENTS

There is no specified theme for this round other than to create a song in a pair and a final solo song. Please read the above prompt in the in-’verse info for full details on this round.

For all rounds, a song must fit all general rules of music claims (i.e. matches muse position, is not too explicit, must be by an artist in the Korean music industry, etc.) and must receive admin approval.

For this round, these are the additional limitations and requirements on songs that can be chosen:

Duet song

The song must involve two performing artists. The original song can have two artists equally credited, a solo with a feature, or a duo act, but it must have two performing artists.

In real life, the song must not be a title track according to Melon and cannot have an official MV. Special clips, live clips, and minimal production lyric videos are acceptable, but the song will have to be re-released on an album in the future to claim such videos as canon to the universe.

In real life, the song cannot have charted higher than a rank of 50 on Gaon’s Weekly Digital Chart at any point.

You may claim songs with choreography, but choreography creative claims are not available. As usual, songs with more emphasis on complex choreography should be reserved for muses with dance positions.

Both muses must have some kind of creative claims on the song.

Solo song

This song must be a solo song. This means it cannot be a collab or have a feature.

In real life, the song may be a title track according to Melon, but it doesn’t have to be. It must have an official MV. Special clips, live clips, and minimal production lyric videos do not count and the release of any different M/V versions beyond the main video will require the song to be re-released on an album in the future to claim such videos as canon to the universe.

In real life, the song cannot have charted with the top 100 on Gaon’s Weekly Digital Chart at any point.

#fmdbase #fmdoursongs #fmdos4 #fmdjoohwan #fmdjaewon #fmdtaeyong #fmdxsuji #fmdxyoungjoo #fmdjoosung #queued post

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of-all-irrelevance · 4 years

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Unbidden

Self-Para 001

Fane slipped into the empty house after waving his thanks to Kenzie. He was glad she’d been coming home this weekend. He needed to be home for however long he could manage it. He missed Brooklyn. He missed Bay Ridge. And he honestly, just missed his house.

The surfaces were slightly dusty from disuse. He wanted to be home more, and with the approaching summer, he hoped that he would. In the meantime, he had to make sure he had a few rooms mostly tidied up for that. He’d offered a room to Isak, had meant every word when he’d promised to let the younger boy stay with him. He’d offered a room to Sutton, originally it had been being stubborn to the woman that called herself Sutton’s mother, but had quickly morphed into a genuine offer. Everyone deserved a safe space to be themselves, and truthfully, Fane wasn’t afraid of Sutton or what their mother seemed to think them capable of.

And he’d offered a room to Win too, and he hoped with every fibre of his being that his best friend would take it.

He started with his old room, pushing some furniture around until he had the bed and dresser close to how it used to be when Win had been here last. He hoped Win would like staying here. They’d had some really great memories playing in his room when they’d been kids.

With a sigh, he flopped down onto the bed, staring at the ceiling for a moment. He hadn’t willed the memory into existence, but it came anyway, unbidden to the forefront of his mind.

Fane and Win had been playing in his room, taking turns flying the little helicopter Fane had gotten for Christmas last year. Win was better at it than he was, but that was okay. It was fun watching Win do cool tricks.

At some point, they’d stopped playing and just laid next to each other on Fane’s bed, big light turned off so they could see the glow-in-the-dark stars he’d stuck up there after a trip to the Hayden Planetarium that his ma took him to after he begged to go see the stars “for real”. Fane’s favourite star was the comet that Win had stuck right above where Fane’s pillow usually was.

The moment didn’t last long, because soon enough, Win was getting up and putting his hands behind his back. Fane sat up too, bouncing a bit on his bed as he smiled. It was about the time that Win usually had to go back to his house.

He couldn’t wait for tomorrow. Win would come over around the same time he always did, and Fane’s dad promised he’d take them to Coney Island. Fane was gonna ask Kenzie if she wanted to come too. It was gonna be so much fun!

Then Win broke the silence. “I’m leaving, Fane,” the other boy said, shifting his hand about a bit. Fane just smiled and nodded. He knew Win had to go back to his house, or else someone would call the police again. He really didn’t want the policeman to really arrest his friend.

“Okay,” Fane chirped brightly, still smiling. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” And Fane was going to surprise him with going to Coney Island. Win was going to be so excited.

“No, I mean, I’m moving again,” Win informed him, still looking every bit as nervous. Fane just tilted his head. He was confused. Win had moved lots of times, but he still came over almost every day, when he could.

Fane just returned to smiling at his best friend. “Okay, well,” he began, bouncing up off the bed to walk over to Win, “we’ve been friends even when you don’t live in Brooklyn.” Obviously it was terrible that his friend had to live in other parts of New York, especially since Brooklyn was the best, but that hadn’t meant they’d stop being friends before.

“I’m moving to Texas!” Win yelled, startling Fane with his volume. For a second, there hadn’t been a thought in his head, then the dread crept in.

The floor felt like it had disappeared beneath him and he was reeling. “What?” Fane asked, eyes wide and threatening to well with tears. He didn’t want to believe it. Win had to be playing a joke, or maybe the house he was moving too had a horse painting or something.

“I’m moving,” Win said again, hands still behind his back. Fane shook his head slightly. He didn’t want to believe it. “To Texas. Tomorrow. I, I didn’t know earlier or I would have told you.” Fane shook his head again. He didn’t want it to be true.

Win was his best friend. He wasn’t going to lose him. He wouldn’t be able to handle that… “Oh, I,” Fane started, trying to nod. He wanted to seem positive and supportive, maybe help Win feel better too. Texas was a long way away. Fane didn’t know how far, but he knew there wasn’t a subway train that would get either of them there… “That’s okay. We’ll still be friends and you can write to me.”

He liked writing sometimes. He wrote little poems for his ma to read. Besides, did they even have phones in Texas? Didn’t they just have horses and funny hats? He’d learned about the Pony Express in school, and since Texas had horses and ponies, they probably could get and send letters. It was a good idea.

“Oh,” Win said, nodding before casting a glance behind him. “Okay. I gotta. I gotta go. I’ll write.” Fane nodded, trying to smile genuinely at his friend as he ran out of the room to get ready to go to Texas.

The moment the front door closed, Fane was in tears. He ran down the stairs to his ma’s reading nook and found her there reading. He crawled into her lap, crying against her shoulder. She didn’t ask what was bothering him right away, just held him. Her gentle hands smoothed through his hair until finally, the tears stopped enough for him to speak.

“Windy’s moving, ma,” he mumbled, face pressed into her shoulder. “To Texas…”

Fane shook his head to clear it. He felt the wetness on his cheeks and knew that if he didn’t stop the memories, thinking of how his ma had comforted him would send him into a full meltdown. He didn’t need that. He had Win back now anyway. He didn’t need to be sad. His best friend was back, and he had said that he wasn’t going back to Texas.

He sat up and wiped at his face. Now was not the time for tears. He could practically hear his dad’s voice in his head. “Chin up Seo-Sí, you’ve got a lot to smile about.” So he did. Fane smiled. Things had been better, but they’ve been a hell of a lot worse. He finished touching up the room, glancing up at the ceiling again to smile at the little comet that was still adhered to the ceiling, the only of the little stars to survive the years since they’d gone up.

He smiled wider. This summer, this empty house would fill with life again. His friends would be here, making the place seem less of the kind of place that Fane felt emptiness, and more a place that he’d be happy to be. He’d even get a job somewhere, save up some money to get a smoker for the yard so that Win could make barbeque whenever he wanted.

Fane nodded, moving on to the next room, the one he figured he’d lend to Isak. It would be a good place. It just needed a little bit of work. But Fane was determined to make sure this was a place that people wanted to be, that Win wanted to be. A safe space for anyone of his friends could come to should they need it.

#(stuck in the middle) musings #Fane Self Para #Self-Para 001 #death tw #not really but I wanna be safe

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sing-it-out-anonymous · 4 years

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Open Letter 19

Hi there! How are you during these times of pandemic? Ako, i'm coping up with the current situation. Mas daghan man jud times na wala koy ka storya, and my ideas somehow are shutting off in my head. Scroll-scroll lang permi sa fb and daghan jud kog mga disagreement sa mga post, lami pud mu-react, dili man ko ani dati ahaha so i call it side-effect of the isolation.

Mutuo na ko anang notion nga the more na maka get along ka, hinay-hinay pud na mugawas imong tinuod na color. like me, at first sa tumblr newbie pa ulaw-ulaw kuno kay murag tanga ga sulat og mga butang na nahitabo around me, pero kadugayan og sigeg anonymously ranting about anything or stating things here, it really made me comfortable and i can say nga naa nako sa comfort zone nga ibulgar nako sa akong mga readers kung kinsa sad ko, by way of my writings. So bare with me, it’s not like I’m a coward nga I didn’t state my name kung kinsa ko. But this brings me comfort, I can shoutout what I want to state.

So here it is..

First of all, I’m a political science graduate, and I’m proud of it. I didn’t end up working on any non government organizations neither working sa mga government offices. Nag pol sci ko, dili tungod kay gusto ko mahimong governor, senator, mayor, kagawad or unsa pang klaseng rank sa government offices. Tong highschool ko, I really don’t know what I’m going to do after, and when people saw my character, ni-ana sila na nice daw kung maglawyer ko, and then sympre pag lawyer, pol sci jud na ilang prep course. So nag pol sci ko, siguro slight sila ang reason, pero before ko nagpa enroll, I really think this is my destiny. And I never regretted it. Every single day of learning were like “ aha moment” for me. My intellectuality widens, na akong perspective sa kalibutan na maximize. I love learning pol sci, I love learning theories, historical facts atbp. That’s why even nga I didn’t end up sa mga pang pol sci nga trabaho jud, I didn’t regret my choice. And if mubalik ko sa akong past, kani gihapon ang course na gusto na ko e take. I’m a die hard fan of this course. I’m a die hard fan of my teachers, nga maskin karon gina follow nako sila sa fb to get good insights. Kani akong topic run, cause I was scrolling yesterday late at night and I saw someone endorsing Political Science sa mga graduates sa K-12, and I didn’t think she did a good job in endorsing the course. The way I read it, mura bag wala jud niya na-tagamtaman ang gina offer sa course. So sad. Pol Sci iyang prep course sa college, pero murag dili sia graduate of pol sci. What a shame.

Kani tanan questions diri, mao ni ang questions na gipang tubag niya, and I want to put justice sa Pol Sci nga course, dili ni english pero I’ll try my best na e- endorse ni sa uban.. so here it is

Question 1: “Why Did I Choose Political Science”

Yun nga, I told you the history why naka take og Pol Sci. Basically, you will never know the reason man jud, and most of the influences ngano ko nagtake ani is based on my circles. Pero like what I’ve said, I never regretted to be here.

Sa ako nga nahuman nako ni na course, I can say to you that this is a good preparatory course for law school because of its discipline. Tinuod nga mas daghan subjects sa law school na natake up sa Accountancy na course, og mas hasa sila magbasa og law subjects kay yun nga, mao na na ilang training sigeg basa og law like oblicon and the same, ilaha man jud na. naa silay overview, mao mas hasa sila. While ang Pol Sci, 2-3 subjects lang ata ang naa sa Law School: Phil Con, Int’l Law, so sa kana na butang kulelat jud ang pol sci because dili kana ang pol sci about. Parehas sa akong giingon, ang disiplina sa political science ang reason ngano ideal sia pang preparatory course. We can understand the public policy behind every law, because every law is not just a “law” on its own, but the heart of every law is to safeguard and protect the welfare of the people and only the discipline of political science will help you understand the depth of safeguarding the people, mao mana ang law all about diba? Law school should not be a money making industry and to prevent that of becoming one, I really suggest na magtake up kag pol sci. being a lawyer in the making, should give you a sense of responsibility and accountability. And ang pol sci jud ang best na prep course for that.

I’m currently working as a staff sa isa ka business and pol sci helped to examine and analyze mga puzzles diri sa office. Coz business is not just about business, its about the people also, the employees, the employer and their relationship. Discipline is really important. Kung ni graduate kag pol sci without its discipline then maypag wala ka nag pol sci dhai.

Question 2: “What is my current job and how long did it take to find a job?”

I’m a licensed real estate broker, currently I am working as non-exclusive broker and as regular staff in a real estate company. Before I graduated College, nag take kog 120 hrs nga course para maka take og board exam sa real estate broker, which means mon to fri school, and Saturday-Sunday lecture time for REB. For my case, dili siya lisud mangita og job since kaila na ko ang tag iya sa company. But as far as I know sa akong mga friends, naay uban nga naka trabaho dayun, og naay uban nga dugay nakakita og trabaho. Mas daghan kog classmate nga nag proceed og law or nag study og balik sa different course-naay uban nag teacher, nag pilot and etc, naa say uban nga nahimo governor, government worker and same. Actually kung imong pangutana, dali ba makakita og trabaho, well dhai depende na siya sa imong attitude mangita og trabaho. Dili na siya sa imong kurso. Kung disidido jud ka maningkamot makakita jud dayun ka kay makita mana sa imong “exterior”- sa imong aura. kung tamadun jud ka, wala juy para sa imo. Dili man gud pattern ang kinabuhi nga 1+1=2, in reality kelangan jud ikaw mismo naa kay pananaw sa kalibutan para makasugakod.

Question 3: “Am I using what I learned in college in my current job and/or further studies?”

Of course, parehas sa akong giingon sa Question 1, gina-apply na ko ang discipline sa akong course. Imposible kaayo nga dili ni ma-apply nga tanan tao is a political animal and social being. Tanan tao kay naay influence-either gamay or dako og tanan tao naay measurement sa ilang power. Og dili lang kana, personally kay makahalobilo man sad kog mga clients, ma-apply na ko na kelangan sad nako e- safeguard ilang welfare as buyers and also the employer. Dili man gud all the time imong answer sa tanan problema kay 1+1=2. Naay ubang problema na kelangan e set aside nimo ang answer, sometimes you need to compromise, og ang discipline sa pol sci ang nakatabang ana sa ako-on how to handle spaces of error sa akong circle and to give teeth on the regulations. Teeth is really important, without it, there is no authority. Kana bang social authority, dili enough imong charisma ana og coercive kaayo ka maskin pag ikaw ang tag-iya sa company. Kelangan na ma-balance nimo na para naay loyalty imong tao sa imo.

Question 4: How did Political Science improve my views towards the government, society, and life in general?

Pol Sci really impacted my world views; nga tanan diay is an interconnected beings, especially nga naa ta sa republican state-nga ang tao naa siay freedom of speech whether unsa iyang ika-ingon sa gobyerno. Our right of suffrage entitles us to demand sa atong governement. Second, what pol sci taught me is to really see the facts, kung naa bay historical context behind every dispute, naa bay cultural racism nga nahitabo. Dili pwede sa personal views lang nagadagan tanan, hence, e-base nimo ang imong analyses sa facts and the probabilities. Being a Pol Sci graduate does not entitle me to be opinionated, rather, to see both side of every dispute, and analyses without prejudice. It trained me to detach my self from my point of view. Third, “understanding” is an understatement kay para sa ako mao na ang main theme sa Pol Sci, if you can’t understand a belief that is contrary to ones beliefs, naa kay kulang sa imong learnings. Dili ka complete kung ang rebuttal nimo is imo lang sang belief. Kung naa jud kay pinaglalaban nga thought, make sure nga gitan-aw nimo ang both sides. Pol Sci in general is about helping us to cooperate sa matag-usa. It should give us an avenue to build bridges. Mao mas lisud-lisud kung mutrabaho kag gobyerno tapos imong disiplina kay naa kay racial discrimination. Importante jud nga ang connection sa gobyerno, society og sa imong individual self kay naay harmony og dapat mao na sia ang goal. Because our reality is not lemons, it’s not simple as ABCDs. Pol Sci is a training ground for interconnectivity. Kung makita nimo ang kalibutan wala sia naga return kung asa sia nag-begin, rather every progress is a process of development either by peace or destruction. And ang discipline sa Pol Sci is to expand the evolution of peace with nations, welfare sa mga tao, og naay collective trust ang tao sa gobyerno, vice versa. Mao na ang realidad jud.

For me pud noh as closing remarks sa Question 4, shut up ka kung colurom ka og wa ka gabayad og tax. haha.

Question 5: What is my advise to people planning to take up Political Science?

Political Science is ideal also for business management, all in one na jud ni nga course. For people na gusto mutrabaho og gobyerno sa maskin unsang aspect, mas nice jud guys na mag Pol Sci mo para naa moy conscience kung mag-corrupt mog kwarta sa bayan.

Og sa general public, love it with all your heart and you will not regret the universe of political science. Ayaw ng pinugos sayang kwarta- may nalang ng kwarta mabalik pa sa imo, pero ang oras sa jud dili na mabalik.

- End -

I hope na natagaan na kog justice akong course. Wala jud ko nag sugar coat guys. This is plainly based on my personal experience. I hope nga naingganyo ta mo to have a harmonious living thru learning pol sci. :D

Always,

#davao city #DavaoCity #beyond politics #course #college days #open letter #bisaya #bisdak

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whoisleft-rp · 4 years

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GRADUATION CEREMONIES & EXIT INTERVIEWS || JUNE 1978 || [THE ROAD TO GRADUATION #003 & #004]

The Gryffindors’ Quidditch Cup celebration lasted throughout the entire night, and the castle’s stock of Pepper-up Potions and other home-brewed hangover remedies were quickly depleted. A hearty breakfast was had by all, nervous and excited chattering reaching even the senior seventh years’ spots at their respective tables; the graduation ceremony was only a few hours away.

It was looking to be an absolutely gorgeous day for it - blue skies, only a few clouds, not too hot even for the graduates in their dark Hogwarts robes. Albus Dumbledore’s speech was guaranteed to be a tearjerker; “we are so proud of each and every one of you - yes, all of you, I see the shock on your face, Mister Potter - and know Hogwarts will always be your home to return to. These are dark times we are living in, and I sincerely hope our exiting seventh years go out to shine their lights on the world.”

Muggle cameras (allowed to work for only that special occasion) and magical ones alike made sure to capture just about every moment, each graduating seventh years’ walk across the stage and each tearful embrace with their friends and loved ones committed to film.

Because there is still time left for students to say goodbye, enjoy the castle and grounds for another week, and make the most of their halcyon school days before moving on to the unknowable world beyond its walls, the school could not leave ALL their remaining time unstructured. The morning after the graduation ceremonies – after families have taken their leave but before the first trunks are packed – Headmaster Dumbledore reminded all of the outgoing seventh years of their exit interviews.

Given the unprecedented change and turmoil of the past few years, the school has established this new tradition: a confidential way for each and every graduating student to speak one-on-one with the Headmaster about anything at all. The highs and lows of their schooling experience, their plans and hopes and fears for the future...when the plan was announced, the Headmaster was quite clear that ANYTHING was on the table.

This was, of course, because he already had a subject in mind for a very select few.

For months now, the Order of the Phoenix has been keeping tabs on some of Hogwarts best, brightest, and most endearingly troublesome. Using the cover of exit interviews for all, Dumbledore will be using his one on one time with these handpicked students to invite them into the Order’s secret creed. No further instructions will be given to them at this time except for one, all-important instruction: DO NOT TELL ANYONE ELSE ABOUT THE ORDER, OR YOUR INVITATION TO JOIN IT.

Roommate against roommate, friend against friend – nobody should know who else received this secret and honorable invitation until the first Order meeting in July.

Unless, of course, they REALLY trust the people around them enough to venture a guess and ask without getting caught…

This post covers only the graduation ceremonies and the exit interviews. Separate event posts will be doled out for each event (see list below). Events in this series…

[#001] Parents Weekend

[#002] Quidditch Final – Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw, to be played while parents are still on campus

[#003] Graduation Ceremonies – To be conducted while parents are still on campus

[#004] Seventh Year Student Exit Interviews (slash Order Recruitment, for some!)

[#005 – Upcoming] Post-Graduation/Pre-Departure Packing, Partying & Goodbyes

[#006 – Upcoming] The Hogwarts Express Ride Back To King’s Cross

* Note: Events #005 and #006 will each be their own separate events, with a two-week window for starters per our new policy. In terms of an OOC time window, that means the King’s Cross event will END on the evening of July 20th.

WHAT’S HAPPENING?

WHO: All students - graduating or otherwise - are present for the ceremonies as well as all the parents and family members who came for the weekend, which means you can keep writing parent threads if you wish. Anyone can start a general graduation day thread, and ANY seventh year student can write their exit interview with Dumbledore if they wish to do so - we STRONGLY encourage the students who are getting an offer for the Order (whether they accept or reject that offer), to write that self-para as part of their participation in the event!

WHERE: The graduation ceremonies are taking place on the Great Lawn, though threads can take place anywhere outside or, if the muse strikes you, immediately before or after the ceremonies on Hogwarts grounds.

WHEN: The exit interviews take place the morning after graduation in Dumbledore’s office and then in Hogwarts immediately after - this is basically two separate events taking place around the same time! The visitors for the long weekend are being ushered home after the graduation ceremonies, so the castle belongs to just the students and professors (and a couple of Dumbledore’s invited Order guests…) again at that point.

HOW TO PARTICIPATE

The masterlist of parent and sibling FCs can be found here. Feel free to, if you have not done so already, send your choices to the main–– it’s not too late to decide you want in on writing these characters!

All starters must be posted between now, Monday, June 8th and 11:59 P.M. EST on Monday, June 22nd.

You can write as your character, your character’s parent(s), or your character’s sibling(s), etc. and post starters as them - but the focus is on the graduating students and their final days at Hogwarts as pupils. If your character has a good reason to be at the castle for the graduation - and Hogwarts graduation ceremonies are always a big deal! - please have them there!

Order members have been invited to the castle as well, for their opinions on potential recruits.

Players are strongly encouraged to both post starters and hop on the starters of others.

Gif chats, paras, self-paras, three-way conversations, etc. are all welcome

Please use the tags WhoIsLeftStarter, WhoIsLeftGraduation and WhoIsLeftInterview as appropriate

STUDENTS INVITED TO JOIN THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX

LILY EVANS

SIRIUS BLACK

MARLENE MCKINNON

JAMES POTTER

MARY MACDONALD

PETER PETTIGREW

REMUS LUPIN

STURGIS PODMORE

CARADOC DEARBORN

DORCAS MEADOWES

EMMELINE VANCE

BENJY FENWICK

#whoisleftevent

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andie--jackson · 4 years

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Self Para ll A Poetry Reading

I don’t know when this would’ve been...it could’ve been while she lives with Hunter or before. Either way... those two gifs are the mood and that is a part of a poem I actually wrote. I’ve been listening/watching/reading a lot of poetry lately and I needed to share it I guess since I woke up to write this... lol

There was no one there that she knew, and yet there she sat in the tiny coffee shop that offered only over priced lattes and the murmurs of strangers above an acoustic playlist. Andie had driven two hours out of town to get to the open mic that held the promise of a five minute set and an audience that had no idea who she was. Her hands were shaking under the table as she tried desperately to focus on the words spoken from the man on stage, but instead the sound of her own blood thundered in her ears. ‘Maybe this was a bad idea...what am I doing here? I’m not a poet...I have nothing important to say...I should leave before anyone even knows I’m here...’ Maybe it was the fear that made her stay. The fear of disappointing anyone else. The fear of not living up to her potential. The fear of failure- because at least if she got on stage and no one cared...she still got on stage and that was a win in and of itself.

By the time the young man in skinny jeans and a beanie too small for his head introduced her Andie felt light headed. “Our next poet tonight drove two hours just to be here tonight, let us all welcome, Andie Anderson to the Coffee Bean Stage!” It was a simple miscalculation on her part- why wouldn’t they have introduced her as Andie Anderson? After all, she was an Anderson, but somehow she felt like she was lying as she walked through the small crowd and up onto the stage. The rolled up sleeves of her jean jacket was able to shelter her some from the harsh light of their small stage but it did little to cover the clattering of her knees as she took the mic from the MC. One deep breath later and Andie was looking out at the crowd- surely a group that expected more of her than what she had to give, but somehow the knowledge that no one knew her or who she really was comforted her. “Hi, so um...” she began, realizing she had not come up with an introduction to the poem she planned on sharing, “I have never done anything like this in my life...and I’m fucking nervous...so please forgive me if I stumble over my words, but tonight I wanted to drive two hours from the place I call home to share with a bunch of strangers a poem that I wrote...that um, is not as beautiful as the last poets work, if that’s okay with you all,” Andie couldn’t help but laugh softly at herself, nerves getting the best of her.

Clearing her throat softly away from the mic and taking a small sip of water Andie took another deep breath,

“I do not know much.

In fact, I know almost nothing.

I don’t know what true love feels like.

I don’t know how people don’t cry while watching The Notebook.

I don’t know how to make my fire alarm stop doing it’s job without ripping it from its place on the ceiling as it traumatizes my dog.

I don’t know how to quit a job without apologizing like it’s my fault my boss is an asshole....

the list is endless really, but what I do know is this; I am not my mistakes.

I am not the hands of the men who touched me when I was

too young,

too fragile,

too broken

to know any better whispering that

I am ‘so mature for my age’

that I’m just ‘not like the women their age’...”

The words left her lips and fell heavy on the audience in front of her. Slowly the nerves turned into confidence as she found footholds on stage and her cadence returned to one that she could recognize in the mirror after this was all over. As the poem came to a close Andie thanked the crowd, her voice soft and cheeks pink, tucking her cell phone back into her pocket and exiting the stage. Her drive home was unlike any other drive of her entire life, she ignored the missed calls and texts asking her to come out tonight, the missed messages asking where she was and why she wasn’t answering. All of the missed communication didn’t matter to her in that moment. Instead, what mattered was the sound of the music that threatened to blow out her speakers and her own voice somehow overtaking that as she sang along to every song. What mattered was that the windows were down and the moon was following her home. What mattered was that she was free...that she had dropped all the hurt, the pain, the damage that had been done and decided that it was no longer hers to carry.

#selfpara

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straight-to-the-pain · 5 years

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Hi, so instead of filling all the prompts that I've been sent, I decided to write an incredibly questionable self-insert fic whatever this is. It's technically based on Como Agua Para Chocolate and the commander is meant to be Gertrudis, but it's a really niche book so I haven't used any names or anything, to allow anyone to enjoy it, regardless of fandom.

So the soldier here would probably be considered non-binary by today's standards (he's an OC) but it's meant to be set in Mexico, during the revolution in 1910, so I tried to do my best within that framework. Again, this is just the experience of one person, and it's not meant to be representative or anything, but if you do have comments, please don't hesitate to send me a (polite) ask!

Warnings for knives, restraints and questionable attitudes towards pain (I consider it SFW, but maybe proceed with caution?)

Without further ado, I present:

A Test of Loyalty

'I know you're hiding something. Tell me, what is your secret?'

The words were whispered into the soldier's ear, the voice of his leader low but threatening. Her knife was at his throat, hand in his hair, pinning him against the wall, and preventing him from getting away.

He raised his head higher, and met the burning stare of his commander with a defiant glare of his own.

'I have nothing to tell you, Sir.'

'Oh you will talk, traitor...'

The knife pressed harder, nicking the skin, and eliciting a sharp intake of breath from the otherwise silent soldier.

'I've done nothing to betray you. I have only ever been loyal to you, Sir,' he managed to grit out, through clenched teeth.

'I know you've got secrets. You'll tell me what you're hiding, who you're spying for, even if it takes a little more... persuasion. '

The soldier remained quiet as the knife was removed from his neck, and his leader turned her attention to his jacket, unbuttoning it, and sharply yanking it away from him.

She produced some rope from her pocket, and used it to tightly bind his hands together behind his back.

He resisted the urge to fight back. After all, this was a test, he thought, and struggling would mean he failed. Even as the coarse rope bit into his wrists, leaving angry red marks, he stayed silent and still.

'I'm going to ask you one last time, what is it that you're not telling me?'

The blade was back in her hand, a sharp reminder of what awaited him if he did not submit.

'I have only ever supported you, Sir.'

He resolved to say no more. She could do whatever she wanted to him, and he would take it all, proving his devotion.

His shirt was parted, and the knife suddenly stilled, stopping just over the cloth, bound tightly around his chest.

'So that's it, your big secret? You're really not a spy?'

Her voice was incredulous, as if she couldn't quite believe that this was what she had been trying so hard to reveal.

'I know that other units might not be as accepting of women soldiers, but surely you should have known that it wouldn't be a problem with me as the commander? You don't have to hide who you are, not with me.'

Having said that, she suddenly realised that she was still pointing her knife directly at the soldier, and she hastily lowered it.

Her subordinate finally spoke. The words came out shaky and stilted, not quite matching his otherwise dignified demeanour.

'I... I'm not really a lady, Sir. I know that's what it looks like, under my uniform. But... it's not who I am.'

'So you're a man?'

The words were tinged with uncertainty, but free of judgement.

'Well, I suppose that's how people see me now. It's not perfect but it's worked out alright so far. Not everyone is as... perceptive, or as determined, as you, Sir.'

'I see. I'm not sure I quite understand but, very well, I'll keep your secret. Nobody else will hear about this, you have my word.'

'Thank you, Sir.'

The soldier's voice was full of relief and gratitude. Despite the pain in his wrists, still harshly tied behind him, he couldn't stop the smile brightening his features.

'You know,' his leader's voice became slow and pensive, 'I think there's something else. See, I was planning to untie your wrists, return your jacket, and let you go. But I'm not sure that's what you want...'

He raised his eyes, and gave his commander a quizzical look, unable to prevent the bright blush spreading across his cheeks.

The knife was back, tracing gentle lines along the soldier's arms, and a small gasp escaped his lips as it dug in deeper, trailing a line of blood along the skin.

'I think you like this. And I'll tell you a secret, I do too...'

#whump #knives #como agua para chocolate #my stuff #my writing #i'm so so sorry guys #i know this is weird and all #i just get very bored in spanish class sometimes #and gertrudis is very hot and skilled and has a fancy uniform and is a general in the revolution

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kishan-ahuja · 5 years

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The Sharp Knife || Self-Para

Tagging: Kishan Ahuja Time & Location: March 15th, 2019 @ Night in Boston Word Count: 1,601 Summary: Kishan faces a life altering situation. Side Notes: TW: Car Accident

It shouldn’t have been, but it was the hardest decision of Kishan’s life. He had come to love his time at Turing Academy. Nothing turned out to be what he thought things would be. He met some of his best friends there, other wonderful people, and he was shown something amazing: The Grid. The Grid was unlike anything he’d ever experienced before. It was exciting, mysterious, and something that could never be replaced. It was almost enough to make him stay at Turing...almost.

When Kishan got the acceptance letter from Columbia University, he would have been an absolutely idiot to reject their offer. When he got the job at the Hayden Planetarium, he knew he’d be a fool to reject that offer. He had already finished his last few papers and lab work before packing everything he could into the car he could barely afford. His Master’s program was done and his research was taking off.

Without his parents’ support, it was going to be hard to afford living in New York, but he knew he’d be alright. What was life without a few challenges here and there? He was thriving in Boston. He would be fine in New York, if not better, especially with his new job at the Hayden Planetarium and American Museum of Natural History.

What surprised him was that they wanted him to start in a couple of weeks. They wanted him to work there so much that they wanted him there as soon as possible. With his school work done, he figured why not? He had finished his thesis for his Master’s and was only waiting to hear back from some conferences and to defend his thesis. He contacted his sister to stay with her until they found a place large enough for the two of them. For now, sleeping on her couch would do.

He wanted to leave a note in the computer room explaining everything. Kishan had to leave on such short notice that he couldn’t gather them all together in person and tell them. Of course...he could have just texted them...but this didn’t seem like something to mention over text...not that a letter was much better. He wanted to tell the group how much they meant to him and how he loved being in the Grid. How it was something exhilarating and made him feel like he belonged somewhere after “losing” his own family. He told them that it was a difficult decision to leave them and something as amazing as the Grid.

But for Kishan, the Grid, as amazing as it was, was not his whole world. He wanted to discover something real and something amazing. He wanted to see the stars and he wanted to share his discoveries with others. The Grid was for Wes and June to figure out. The galaxy and the whole universe was for Kishan.

He was going to leave a note in the computer room for them...and then he balled up the piece of paper he’d written on and tossed it into the trash can. Maybe it was better for him to just go. He’d gather his things and leave, only to return later and tell them. Elena and Zara knew. Although, they only knew his potential plans, not that he’d been accepted to his dream school and dream job.

Kishan didn’t know what the future would hold. No one did. Could they publish their findings about the Grid? Make it big and get rich? Create something only seen in science fiction novels? But Kishan’s dream was space exploration...not spending all his time in a video game when real life was what mattered.

Kishan turned on the engine and started the drive back to New York City. When he returned to the school to gather the last of his things from his apartment with Zara, he would tell them with a note or in person if he could. Yes, that would work. He already made plans to go out with Zara on Monday when he got back to get the last of his things.

Then, he would leave a voicemail for Wes...maybe leave a separate note for Bailey...email Zara some advice on how to get through college...send Javier a playlist to write to...give Riley some of his old art supplies that he’d used to make signs for protests. He would leave a note behind, thanking them, because doing it in person seemed so much harder. And then, he’d leave Turing for good. It was all a perfect plan. A clean break.

He didn’t want a party or some big event. Kishan didn’t want or like that kind of attention, not for this. Having his paper accepted to a conference, breaking ground in a new theory, a birthday, or New Year’s Eve...hose were worth having a party about. Not saying goodbye.

He wasn’t going to be far from the group and Turing if he lived in New York, but he was going to be far too busy and invested in his PhD work and job. It was best to leave the Grid behind and look forward to the future. The future held many possibilities and Kishan couldn’t help but smile as he thought about it.

As Kishan crossed through an intersection at a stop light near the highway, a truck came barreling towards him.

The truck should have stopped.

It had a red light.

It didn’t.

Kishan tried to swerve out of the way.

It was too late.

Kishan couldn’t even register the pain as the truck rammed into his side of the car. The force crushed him and pushed his vehicle into other cars at the intersection, spinning them out of control. Glass rained down and metal crunched under the pressure.

The car jerked again as it hit another car. He put his hands to his head in a feeble attempt to protect it. He felt blood running down his temple. He felt an intense pain in his shoulder and arm. His ribs ached. His neck was sore.

Just as he was starting to discern what happened to him, another car came barreling towards him and the other cars in the pile up.

Kishan felt a sharp explosion of pain in his neck and there was a blinding white light behind his eyes.

Cops and ambulances arrived at the scene almost immediately. Smoke wafted into the air from the totaled engines. The sirens howled as more first responders sped down the road. Lights were flashing, lighting up the street at night like the Fourth of July.

Officer Song stepped out of his car and made his way to the scene. Four cars in all were involved. A semi trailer truck against two smaller cars and an SUV. The truck and SUV were hardly damaged it seemed at face value, but the smaller cars sustained far more damage.

He ducked his head as he went under the caution tape and flagged down one of his colleagues. “What happened here?” he asked.

Officer Clearwater shook her head. “Witnesses say the truck driver was speeding down to the intersection. He lost control and couldn’t stop and ran into a car pulling through. The car turning had a green light and the truck should have stopped. I’m thinking the guy was drunk, texting, or too tired to drive. We’re waiting now while he’s with the paramedics.”

“Any casualties?” Officer Song didn’t need to be psychic or a genius to know that no one was walking out of this collision without some sort of injury. The real question? Was anyone killed in the accident?

“Other than bumps, bruises, and maybe some broken noses and fractured wrists, paramedics say the drivers in the truck and SUV should be okay. A driver in another car is stable. They’re all being taken to the hospital to be checked out. One death though. He was dead on arrival.” Officer Clearwater reviewed her notes with the description of all the victims. “He’s about six foot 2 inches, lean build. Mid-twenties. Dark hair. Probably of Indian descent. License says his name is Kishan Ahuja. The name sounds familiar, but I can’t place it.”

“I can,” Officer Song replied with a heavy sigh. The kid was young and an unfortunate victim of a senseless accident. He had a lot ahead of him but it was all cut short by a sharp knife. “His parents own a company in San Francisco. There were a bunch of articles a few years back about them disowning him.”

Officer Clearwater cleared her throat and bit the inside of her cheek. “Do you think they’ll come here to...”

“I don’t know, but we’ll see who his emergency contacts are first and then notify the next of kin.”

“A card in his wallet says his emergency contact is Tara Ahuja,” Officer Clearwater told him.

“I guess you start with calling Tara and I’ll call his parents and see if they’ll answer,” Officer Song replied. He walked over towards the center of the accident and watched as evidence was collected and photos were taken of the scene. He turned his head and watched as the paramedics zipped up the body bag and hoisted the body onto a gurney.

Officer Song looked up at the sky, taking in a deep breath, something he always did to calm his nerves whenever there was a death. He stared up at the stars, but the lights in the city were too bright to see them. The officer faced forward after a moment and then made his way towards the truck driver.

It was just another night on the job.

#self

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xaspiringbeamoflightx · 5 years

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A Mysterious Package Part One of a Two-Part Drabble.

Tina made her way home from an afternoon shift at the Neverland Motel, tired and distracted. Peter had sent her a series of messages about his adventures during the day and this was her first opportunity to catch up – he would surely be annoyed if she didn’t sing his praises about all the wonderful things he had achieved tomorrow. It was a slow walk home made all the more exhausting by the fact she had been run off her feet all day and spent the last of her bus money of a large carton of strawberry milk.

She reached out her key, though continue to look at her phone, and fumbled for the lock without looking. Her mind was already on the leftover pasta in her fridge, and stalking some of the Lost Boys on Snapchat maps. Her mind certainly wasn’t on her feet. Or front step. Or the package that she stumbled over entering her home.

Tina barely caught herself on the doorframe, and grumbled a string of profanities under her breath. It was very unlike the postman to leave a package at her door when she wasn’t home -they usually sent it back to the depot if it couldn’t fit through the letter box. And it seemed that there was no post mark, or stamps, or even a return address. Tina picked up the package, entered her home and closed the door with an irritated bang.

The package itself was decidedly non-descript.

She made her way to the kitchen and placed it on the counter. Had she not been pranked one too many times by Peter the girl might have opened the package with a bit more haste. The package would remain there until she had ate her leftover pasta and finished half of her milk carton.

Finally, she thought, it was time to inspect the package.

The first thing she noticed was a note. Thankfully she read it before tearing in to the package.

At the request of one Mr. William Sykes, please deliver this package to [ADDRESS, AFFLUENT AREA OF ANDROMEDA]. Do NOT open this package, and do not tell anyone you have it. If you accept, you will be paid the sum of $500 for your assistance. If you decline, simply write “No” on this envelope and leave the package where you found it.

Her heart dropped to her stomach. Her interest in the package flicked on an off like an incessant child playing with a light switch. Simultaneously she wanted to tear open the box to see what was lurking inside, and throw it out the window like it never existed. If Peter were here they would have thrown caution to the wind and opened the box. But he wasn’t here and it crossed her mind that she may wind up in a hell of a lot of trouble if anyone found out she had to much as peaked at its contents. A gentle shake might satiate the curiosity. So Tina gave it a gentle shake. The sound it made was entirely indistinguishable and the feeling did not pass.

“Please… Don’t be a body part…” Tina found herself muttered, turning the box over in her hands as if waiting for it to answer. “You can’t bring anything good, I just know it…” The name sounded familiar but it apparently wasn’t so important that she could remember why. And why couldn’t they deliver the package themselves? The price tag was just too good to be true. It spelled trouble and definitely should be put right back out on the doorstep where it came from.

But hey maybe she was just looking way too much in to things. Right..? Maybe someone was just being incredibly lazy and absurdly generous and Tina could make 500 bucks for doing next to nothing. Yeah! Sounds totally legit! Imagine what she could do with $500!

“Wait until Peter hears about this! He’ll be abso… abs…”

…do not tell anyone…

Tina placed the note back on the box. Maybe she wouldn’t tell Peter.

With a final chug of her milk, Tina decided it best to make her decision in the morning and carried herself to bed.

End of part One.

You receive a package wrapped in plain brown paper with no return address. Attached is a note from one Mr. William Sykes requesting you take the package to an address across town in the affluent part of Andromeda. The note says to not open the package and not tell anyone you have it. If you accept this job you will be paid $500. Do you accept? (If you do, please write a self-para with your character delivering the package. If you don’t, simply reply with “No” and leave the package outside.)

#putask #puselfpara #drabble #/Oooooooooooooooooooooooooh will she do it? will she not???#you just have to wait until morning like she does!!#task

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