#am and like i just have to slog through the rest of this semester but it is a hard slog

[tarantula-hawk-wasp]

hands and knees begging myself to be responsible tonight bc i have so much to do but i can feel in my heart irresponsible brain is going to win and im gonna end up drawing and making myself more behind and stressed but like i spent 8 hours researching and writing art history texts at my internship do i fucking want to research for my history class tonight even tho i should so i can let the professor know if my topic is viable? no i want to draw. and like even research aside i need to do dishes and laundry and pack

[zannolin]

weekly writing wrap up time !!

not much done this week, i'm afraid. my drawing brain unlocked after almost eight months of little to no drawing and even longer of a miserable art block slog, so i spent more time drawing and working on some commissions than writing.

i DID finish and post my ambiguous claire and leon post-infinite darkness oneshot which has been haunting me for weeks:

Claire holds up her half-empty glass and, after a moment, he holds up his own, still empty, and clinks it gently against hers. She takes another sip, and Leon can’t help laughing at her when she not-so-surreptitiously spits it back into the glass with a wrinkled nose.

“You need to get better taste in bars,” she tells him.

“Maybe you should get better taste in drinking buddies,” he responds, setting down his glass and folding his arms atop the bar.

“I think I’ll keep the one I’ve got,” Claire says.

i dunno what it is but i just love this part <3 their friendship is really important to me regardless of if i'm writing ship content or not (which this was not intended to be explicitly.)

also wrote a stunning 137 words on wild geese, god help me. it's been a slog this week like i said.

i spent most of the time spitballing various aus, getting attached to cleon, and contemplating how i could get ethan winters and leon s kennedy in the same room for a conversation for the ages. also i am considering getting more experimental and starting a fic to encourage me to work on my spanish skills more since i have three more semesters of spanish classes to get through, but we'll see!! it was a more restful week what with school coming up on tuesday.

priority number one is now back to being wild geese, and then hopefully the next chapter of split ends. i would also like to work on the gospel tent au some more. wrote 3.6k this week which all things considered isn't bad!

in lieu of new snippets from wips i offer you something from my notes doc that will be in a future mia fic:

A month after the village, Mia dreams of Ethan. Which is to say—she always dreams of him, these days, just like every time she managed actual sleep in the farmhouse in Dulvey, but this is the first time it’s anything more than a nightmare.

“You knew,” he says softly, reaching out to hold her hand. It’s not a question.

“I did,” she whispers.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

She squeezes her eyes shut. “I was afraid to lose you.”

In her grip, his hand begins to dissolve, and when she looks, his face is disintegrating, wads of mold shriveling and falling away until there’s nothing left. From the nothingness, he says:

“You did anyway.”

Mia wakes with tears on her cheeks and wonders if she prefers the nightmares.

[teenyfish]

Marine Biology Story of the Day #10

Hello all.  This post was kinda delayed because I spent all day cleaning out my pool (it’s an above ground pool—my COVID 19 impulse purchase) because a hurricane came through and it’s full of dead insects and leaves among other things.  The joys of living right on the coast 😊

Thanks for all of your interest and support on my shrimp research—it’s nice to know that people are interested in the little guys too.  So today, we are going to talk about how all of my interest in tiny fish got started—my master’s program and my thesis.  

SOoooo…originally I wasn’t planning on getting my masters because it sounded like a lot of work but then I changed my mind last minute when I started looking at job applications and saw that for many of them, you needed a masters—so I ended up becoming a master’s student at the same University that I did my undergrad at—called Christopher Newport University.  It’s a teeny public school in Virginia near the Chesapeake Bay. And the reason I chose to do this is because I would be working under Dr. Jessica Thompson, who in hindsight, was probably the best advisor I could have had.

Dr. Thompson is a wonderful human being with many beautiful tattoos, and can definitely drink me under the table, and raises chickens in the middle of a city, but she is also pure and wholly supportive—something that I really needed during that period of my life.  She also exclusively studied a wonderful teeny tiny fish:  Fundulus heteroclitus, or the Mummichog.

(The males are the ones with the stripes and bright shiny scales and the female is the drabber one)

Her research focuses on this little fish because it is one of the hardiest fish on the east coast.  It primarily lives in shallow water salt marsh habitats (intertidal marshes). These shallow water habitats often have very extreme temperature and salinity changes, as shallow water heats and cools up much faster than deep water.  So they can survive in a wide range of temperatures, salinities, and dissolved oxygen conditions—I call them the cockroaches of the sea (except they are much cuter).  They are also a very important food resources for a TON of marine and coastal predators.

They were also the first fish in space—and they were used in spatial orientation studies.  You see, in space, animals and plants can lose all sense of up and down because there is no gravity—however in a few days, this fish were able to figure out their spatial orientation (possibly due to orienting to the overhead light source?). Anyway, they are incredible little babies.

(NASA scientist John Boyd choosing the first two fish (and fish eggs) to leave planet earth)

Because they can move into the very shallow intertidal marsh area (the part where the grasses grow) they can avoid predators during high tide, and this area of the marsh is chock full of food for them, mostly in the form of small zooplankton and worms that live in the mud.  But during low tide, this part of the habitat dries up, and they are forced out into the deeper subtidal creeks of the marsh, where they get to be in cooler water, but they are at the mercy of predators, and there is less food.

(everything in the open water is subtidal, everything between tidal flat and low marsh is intertidal)

My aspect of this research involved looking at behavior choices made by these guys when presented with “intertidal marsh” habitat filled with food and marsh grass (their preferred habitat), however we cranked the temperature up to 34-40 oC (93—104 oF), OR a empty “subtidal creek” habitat with no food or structure, but at their optimum temperature for growth at 26 oC (79 oF). 34-40 oC is an EXTREMELY high temperature for fish to be able to function at—most fish begin shutting down their metabolism at these temperatures (aka dying).  But supposedly, Mummichog can deal with these temps.  There thermal maxima (upper temperature at which they can function) is reported to be 42 oC.

So I had to construct an experimental tank.  

These were some of the first iterations of the tank—we had to do a lot of practice runs before we got the design just right.  The concept is the same—we used this corrugated plastic (the same you use to make those political signs ppl stick in their front yard) to form two sections, one for warm, one for cold, and a box in the middle that we would remove a door and allow for the fish to swim out.  Once the fish chose a side (remained on a side for more than 10 seconds) we would close them off from the rest of the tank—they made a “choice”. In later iterations of the design, we covered the tank in more of the plastic to hide them from us (so they wouldn’t show fear behaviors) and put in fake salt marsh grass on the warm side to mimic an intertidal marsh habitat.  Fish were also fed pieces of cut up shrimp on the warm side.   We ran 3 trials at increasing temperatures for each run, and during each trial, the fish were run through the tank simulation once a day for three weeks.  

In order to get fish for this study, we had to catch wild fish. To catch them, we set minnow traps in the small channels leading into the intertidal marsh at low tide, and as the tide came in, and fish funneled into these channels, they became trapped in our minnow traps.

(examples of minnow traps, and our collection site in Norfolk) 

Problem was, in order to get out to these sites, we had to slog through some serious mud.  I’m talking about sink up to your thigh levels of mud y’all (and this really bothered me, I’m super claustrophobic).  So in order not to get trapped in the mud, we had to wear mudders, which are a little bit like snowshoes (in concept?) but also not like snowshoes at all.  They were like boxes you strapped onto your feet with plastic sticking out on the side which was meant to make your footprint bigger (and therefore give you more support on the mud).  They worked pretty well but they always gave me major bruises on my ankles as the plastic pressed up and into my ankles.  I had to buy some foam padding to wrap around my ankles it was so bad.

Once we got our sweet little babies, I would tag each of them individualy so I could keep track of individual fish.  I did this with a combination of Visible Implant Alpha Tags, which are florescent and have individual numbers on them, or Visible Implant Elastomer Tag, which are made of a non-toxic elastomer “paint” and come in 9 colors, so you can create an individual code for each individual by combining 2 colors. These tags are injected under the skin so that they are still visible (fish skin is pretty transparent) but are not very deep in the muscle tissue. These are really great tags to use on really small fish. We used MS-Tricane to anesthetize the fish and inject them, so basically I’ve done fish surgery. You can check out these tags at Northwest Marine Technology—I still use them now!  I’m using them on a current project.  

(left, a VI Alpha Tag on a trout, right, two different colors of VI elastomer tags on a flounder) 

And our fish did really well after tagging—we had no tagging mortalities!

Once we ran these fish through all three trials, it was time to analyze data. We calculated the fish’s dominant “choice” by calculating the proportion of days during the trial they chose the “warm side”—if their proportion was 90%, they had a high affinity for choosing the warm side, 30% they had a low affinity for choosing the warm side and instead more often chose the cool side for example.  Then we put this data into environmental models to see if temperature influenced their choices.

And the result?

You read it here first folks.  These little fish decided to swim into upwards of 104 o C water regularly to get food—they were so food motivated—and most fish chose the warm side over the cool side most often during every trial.  However there was a decent amount of variation—there was a contingent of fish that went into the cool side more often as temperature rose, and would forgo eating for comfort, but overall, the fish chose the warm side.  This shows that these fish may be able to adapt quickly as temperatures rise—and those that choose to move into warmer, shallower waters to access food will more likely survive to reproduce (since they choose to be in regions with less predators and more food).  This means they are more likely to pass on their warm water acclimating genes to their offspring, continuing their species ability to deal with extreme temperatures on to the next generations.  

My thesis defense obviously went well, and I got my masters, but I’ve kept my interest for the smaller fish and invertebrate species because they form one of the base levels of our ocean ecosystems and serve as a very important food resource to larger predators.  I’d like to credit Dr. Thompson for giving me this interested and giving me the appreciation for these little and underappreciated animals.  She and I have kept in touch—she was actually at my wedding last May, and when my dad got in a major accident (four days before I was supposed to defend my thesis) she came to the hospital and helped me through it, and also helped me push back my defense one semester so I could recuperate from the trauma a little.  I am extremely grateful for her tutelage, and I’m grateful for these sweet little babies.

Thanks for reading, and as always, if you have any questions about the field work or the research, PLEASE do not hesitate to ask or comment.

[botanyshitposts]

I wanna get into botany but textbooks and shit are hard to reead fuck I just see walls of words how do I read that shit

ok this actually isn’t the first ask ive gotten about this recently!! textbooks are a severely underrated class of book, but also take a lot of practice and finesse to read at first. 

something that i’ve discovered about textbooks- and this is one of those things that i wish someone had told me and i ended up finding out on my own- is that there are two types of textbooks: 1. the books that you have to buy for class to teach you the basics, or 2. compilations of current stuff on a specific topic

a thing ive noticed about being an undergrad/learning the basics is that ur essentially catching up with the rest of the world, and that’s how all the textbooks u gotta spend like $314231 on at the beginning of the year on are written. so the type one books are structured on teaching you things, which means that each chapter is structured in a cumulative lesson that you have to read all the way through, sometimes slugging through pages upon pages of just…..shit, because you need to know whats on page 9 to be able to understand whats on page 32. these books suck ass. theyre essential and very painful but once you get through them you can get to the cool type of textbook, type 2. 

type 2 textbooks are a weird thing academia does where they get a shitton of scientists together and have everybody write down the new shit they learned, and then they put it in a big overview book. these are kinda few and far between, but are super cool because due to it being just a giant compilation of individual results put together into one giant stack, if you arent interested in what ur reading you can literally just skip it and go to the next cool passage. nobody gives a shit and nothings building on anything else so if you dont understand one, you might understand another better, and u can skip around in the chapters as you please, which makes it SO much easier to read. the best example of this i own is Carnivorous Plants: Physiology, Ecology, and Evolution, which is the newest non-school textbook i own (published last february) and by far one of my faves even though i just got it (side note- some people have told me that they think its super interesting but are hesitant at the price tag and i would like to clarify that i saw this, it cost me Quite A Few Hours At Work, and because im going into the field, dont own any plants at all right now aside from one (1) fern, and had my birthday very recently i am giving myself CONSIDERABLE leeway on my book budget lmao). 

on a similar note: books like this are more expensive because the newer a text is, the more expensive it is because of the demand for new shit. a book 5 years out of date will cost about $20, and a book 10 years out of date will cost $8, and antique books usually cost around $2 lmao. on the flip side, the type 1 botany textbook required for my formal class this semester was bought used for me by my mom for by birthday a few years ago in high school, and cost about $90; books being used by any university for a class immediately jump in price, and books with new editions just released will cost SIGNIFICANTLY less than their counterparts. your best bet in some of these cases is a university library, but i digress lol 

as for botany textbooks for class and how to read them- again, start at the beginning of the chapter and slug through, because you gotta build up a knowledge base. if you’re taking a formal class, then lecture will most likely cover what chapters are assigned, so usually with my undergrad ones i listen intently and take notes in class, then supplement with my textbook by reading the parts that i’m confused on. when i need to read a type 1 textbook, i implement the method i used in high school to pass my AP courses: right when class gets out and i’m still in the ‘We Are Focusing Right Now Yes’ mindset, i sit myself down and dont get up until the chapter is read. this is sometimes more effective than other times. In terms of understanding the material, i find it helps if you look for how the concept you’re learning about is applied irl in studies and stuff, because if gives u a handle on it and brings to light what you do and don’t understand. on a more basic study habit level, if you’re like me and have ADHD but aren’t medicated, if i know i have to Focus ™ i take a caffeine pill or drink coffee in the morning and then try not to eat a ton of sugar until after i’m done studying, because it makes me feel frazzled. really, a lot of ‘learning the basics’ textbook reading is sitting down and slogging through it. 

in type 2 books, i usually flag the pages that i find interesting with little sticky note flags, because it gives my brain a background task of ‘hhhhh find place to put colorful item yes’. 

if you’re experiencing executive dysfunction with the intimidation of reading Big Important Thing: this sounds stupid, but think of it as a long online article. like when you open ur book for ur chapter be like ‘yeah just gonna read this wikipedia page now’. like i’ve learned that when applying an online layout, my brain is like ‘ah yes short and good and will remain focused now’, but when working in a book format- even in an online textbook- my brain immediately goes offline because ‘No!!! Big Stressful Chunk Of Text Gives Me Anxiety. Do Not Like’. i do this while encouraging myself to read regular books, too (*opens horror novel* ‘wow this is a pretty long creepypasta huh’). 

[bethhxrmon]

All I Ask of You Pt. 9

“Plastic don’t shine, glitter don’t shine, rhinestones don’t shine the way you do.” -��I See Stars” from Mean Girls

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female OC

Word Count: 3,065

Warnings: I don’t think there are any, just some pining

Summary: It’s audition day and now it’s almost Christmas time.

A/N: This chapter is kind of filler, but it also has some serious setting up. I may or may not be posting a little something else this week too!

MASTERLIST

Playlist 

           The annoying tone of Annie’s alarm went off, causing her to jolt awake as she checked her phone. Looking at the date, her heart nearly jumped from her chest. It had suddenly become Wednesday, the last day of school before winter break, and the same day she was going to audition. A black polka dot dress hung on her doorknob, something that both she and Harper had agreed on when Annie called the previous night, freaking out over the audition.

           Though, she should have gotten more sleep rather than worrying about if she was going to be able to belt out her high notes properly without her voice giving out and cracking on her, Annie simply couldn’t help herself. When it came to theater, she had far too much to prove. She had simply practiced too much and too hard to fall short in the fashion department. So despite the cold wind that Annie could see blowing snow around when she looked down from her window, she still pulled on the dress. If she wanted to be Maria, she needed to look the part.

           Her dad had already left, Annie could tell from how the coffee was made, but the pot was half empty. The shower could be heard in the background as she shoved the homework she’d managed to slog over the previous night into her bag. She scarfed down a bagel before looking at the time and pulling on a jacket, leaving the apartment.

           “Why’re you wearing a dress? It’s freezing!” Ned exclaimed as he, Annie, and Peter got off the subway.

           Annie gave a small shrug, “Why aren’t you wearing a dress, hm?”

           “Because I’m not crazy, there’s snow outside,” Ned replied, holding onto one of the straps on the ceiling.

           Annie held onto Ned’s backpack, “Okay, fine… I wanna look good for the audition today, you know? This is my only chance to prove myself and show off and, well I’m not sure if it’s gonna work.

           “You’ll get it. I mean, you gotta, you’ve been thinking about nothing else,” Peter pointed out.

           Ned smirked, “That’s not the only reason you think she’ll get it.”

           “Hm? What would that be?” Annie asked, turning to the other male.

           Peter’s face tinted pink before Ned started speaking, “Because he thinks that you look-”

           “The part… yeah, you look like a Maria, you know?” Peter said, glaring at Ned pointedly.

           Annie rolled her eyes, “Come on you two, I’m trying to stay chilled out for today.”

           “Well, good luck with that, I feel like if you were worried for our auditions, then you’re gonna be an absolute nightmare today,” Ned pointed out with a small laugh.

           Annie huffed a bit, “That is not true. I’m confident in myself… I just wasn’t sure what to expect from the two of you.”

           Though it was difficult to not see how Annie’s shoulders seemed to slump despite herself. Her worries were simple, she had worked too hard for too long to not get exactly what she wanted. What if that wasn’t enough? What if she couldn’t ever be enough in anything? No, she knew that she needed to toughen up and completely ignore everything that had been holding her back earlier.

           “You’ve been kinda quiet, you sure you’re good?” Peter asked as they walked into the school.

           Annie nodded, straightening her back, “Yep, I have to be. I mean, you and Ned were just fine. I can do it too, this is a science school, there’s no way any of the girls here are better than I am.”

           “Well, yeah… about me though, I’m not so sure the teachers are gonna, well I’m not sure they’ll cast me right,” Peter started as they headed to their first classes.

           Annie laughed a bit, “What do you mean by that? Of course they’ll cast you right, that’s the point of them auditioning you… and you killed it.”

           She hadn’t asked him about that night after the movie. It seemed like he wasn’t repeating the same actions that he had done. A couple of days after, she’d gotten her jacket back. Annie had only admitted it to Harper, but she hadn’t worn it since because it smelled like him and it was rather comforting. Still, that night felt like it had been forever ago, and she didn’t even know how to approach the subject. She had simply told herself she had just been emotional and was looking to the wrong places.

           “That’s not quite what I’m meaning…” Peter trailed off.

           She cocked her head a bit, “Then what do you mean?”

           “Um… well… uh I’ll tell you later, don’t worry about it. Do you want me and Ned to watch your audition?” he asked as they walked into their class.

           Annie nodded, “Yeah, of course! I really need you guys, you’re both the closest friends I have here.”

           Getting through her classes without overthinking the audition that was to come. She knew the song like the back of her hand, there was no way she could mess it up. At the same time, what if her voice cracked when she belted out the higher notes? No, there was no way she could mess up like that. Not after everything she had managed to do back in Seattle. Only, things had been different back then.

           She had been great the previous year, sure, but she was so much different. Had she been the same person she was when she started out as a freshman, there was no way she would have been around Ned and Peter as much. Her image had mattered just a bit too much, but she also had so much more conviction back then.

           Her classes had gone far too fast for her to really think about anything that had happened. Not to mention the stress of just finishing up her finals. Though, it was thanks to Peter that her physics work wasn’t completely hopeless. The rest of her classes weren’t unbearable, but physics just left her with some sort of mental block. That was how it had always been, and she never decided to question it.

           At the same time, it was all she could do to not ask to be excused and get to a practice room so she could go through her song just one more time. Even Michelle wasn’t letting her do anything like that, knowing that Annie would probably sing until her throat was raw from belting. Then, she would end up being useless during her audition and there would be no way in hell that she could ever be Maria.

           Her actual theatre class appeared to be at a standstill. Some of the girls who had never seemed to care before were suddenly begging for more time. Those were the ones now taking practice rooms and singing until their voices cracked, unable to hit the high notes. Annie hoped that all the time she had spent around her teacher getting advice had been enough. If nothing else, the teacher knew her name. Then again, so did all of her other teachers.

              Finishing the school day off with her last physics class of the semester, Annie’s knee was bobbing up and down. The actual test had been the previous class period, and that left Annie sitting as quiet as ever, knowing that once the bell rang she would have to walk straight to the auditorium. How had she managed this the year before?

           “Hey, remember all those times you told me ‘those other girls ain’t shit’?” Peter asked, looking at her.

           Annie shrugged a bit, “I shouldn’t be cocky, that’s how you fuck yourself over, right?”

           “But were you cocky before?” he asked quietly, looking like he was writing or drawing something.

           She frowned a bit, “I was a grade-a bitch… like, Flash but even worse if we’re being honest.”

           “Well, that worked out for you, yeah?”

           “I mean, it depends on what you mean by ‘worked out’, but kind of.”

           “I just think… y-you’ve done too much to stop thinking you know what you’re doing. I-I mean, come on, you went to a performing arts school, yeah?”

           Annie nodded a little, “Yeah… but that doesn’t make me a genius by any means.”

           “You don’t have to be a genius, you just need to know enough, and I think you do,” Peter told her, his chocolate brown eyes meeting hers.

           She sighed a bit, “Well, you’re right… actually, really right. You’re still staying around to watch, though, right?”

           “Yeah, yeah, of course. Unless you don’t want that, then I-I can just go off the my internship.”

           “Please tell me you’re getting some of Christmas off.”

           “Y-yeah, Mr. Stark would probably like a few days for just himself.”

           “Then we’re hanging out, and you’re not getting out of it.”

           The bell rang and Annie got up, smoothing out the skirt of her dress. She knew what she was doing, she always had. Pretending like she might not be good enough wasn’t an option. Above all else, Annie needed to prove that she wasn’t wasting her time when it came to acting. That this was what she was good at and that it was what she really loved more than anything else.

           Thankfully, she wasn’t the first girl to be going, she was the second. The poor girl who had gone before her was nothing but a confidence boost to Annie. That girl had sang what was arguably the pitchiest rendition of “Popular” that she had ever heard. If every other girl was like that, then Annie knew that she was going to be a shoe-in. There was nothing to worry about and there never had been anything worth worrying about when it came to auditioning in a school full of people who obviously spent more time programming computers than memorizing their lines.

           “Annika Hardwick, come on up,” Ms. Yancy called.

           Annie walked onto the stage, her black flats not making a sound on the auditorium stage. The audience was lit up just enough that she could see Peter and Ned sitting to the side, a few rows behind the teachers. Though the stage lights felt so warm against her tanned skin, but it only made her stand up straighter.

           The teacher cleared her throat, “You are auditioning for the part of Maria, correct?”

           “Yes,” Annie answered, feeling her heartbeat increasing.

           Was asking her friends to watch her a good idea? Maybe having Ned there was, but she had different feelings towards Peter than she did for Ned. Ned was a friend, someone she could talk to about anything without it getting awkward. When it came to Peter, there was something that she never bothered to address, but it left her reading into every moment of silence just a little bit too much.

           “Well, your pianist is ready, so whenever you’re ready,” Ms. Yancy told her.

           Annie blinked and took a deep breath before nodding the pianist in, “We’ve done this all before, we were angels once, don’t you remember?”

           As she started to sing, her nerves began to melt away. There wasn’t anyone in front of her, she was simply by herself. No one was around and no one could tell her that she was off at all. The only thing she heard was the piano playing the lilting melody. She didn’t even feel like herself, instead she felt like a young Russian girl who was singing about all of the good moments with the man she was so in love with. Never mind how that ended up changing by the end of the musical, she just needed to focus on this one moment.

           “This winter sky, how can anyone sleep? There was never such a night before!” her voice swelled.

           While she would never be able to admit it, she couldn’t stop thinking about that night when Peter talked to her. The night that left her wondering if he felt the same way she did. Only, she knew that it wouldn’t be right, being with him. Not if he didn’t even know she had powers or that she was actually a superhero. She couldn’t keep that from him if they were any closer. It was already difficult, lying to him and Ned all the time.

           “You and I, you and I, you and I,” she belted out before cutting off the pianist with her hand closing, there was a pause that was filled with silence before she breathed again, “And no one else.”

           Upon finishing, there wasn’t anything to be heard. Not that Annie had been expecting a standing ovation or anything like that, but she hoped that the teachers were impressed. She could feel the heat of the stage lights on her skin, and she could feel the sweat beading on her forehead.

           “Very well done, we will have the cast list decided when you come back from break, happy holidays, Miss Hardwick,” Ms. Yancy said with a small smile.

           Once Annie was back in the hallway, she was relieved to see Ned, but couldn’t help noticing that Peter had ran off. That was another reason they would probably never work out, he was constantly running off to that damned internship. Had he even stayed the whole song? Of course he had, right?

           Ned hugged Annie, picking her up with ease, “That was great! You know that? That was fucking awesome and I need you to know that!”

           “I hope so, I’ve been worried that my voice would crack towards the end there, but well, I guess it worked out,” she said as she was placed on the ground again, the pair heading out of the school.

           Ned laughed a bit, “You hope so? It was easily the best thing I’d heard all day. You had nothing on the one girl who went before you, trust me.”

           “I know that, but what about all the other girls who go after me?” she pointed out, pulling her hoodie out of her backpack and pulled it on over her dress.

           Ned shrugged, “They must’ve ran off after they heard you give a kickass performance. They’ve got nothing on you, and don’t say I didn’t tell you when you get the lead.”

           “You really think that?”

           “I feel like modesty doesn’t work too well on you when you seem to know that it was a pretty great audition.”

           “Well damn, okay, I’ll take your word for it,” she said with a small laugh.

           “You should.”

           That evening, Annie had many shirts beneath her White Swan hoodie and even another pair of leggings underneath her regular silver ones. With the weather getting colder and colder, she found herself wishing that she had a real suit with all kinds of technology behind it.

           Of course, the moment she thought about technology, Annie felt someone tapping her on the back. She turned, about to energy blast the offender, but quickly stopped when she saw the all too familiar Spider-Man mask.

           “Hey, you looked cold so I got you something,” the hero said, handing her a cup of hot chocolate.

           Annie shook her head, “You really didn’t have to do that.”

           “Yeah, I do, I know how cold it gets. So I’m just being a little helpful. Call it getting into the Christmas spirit,” Spider-Man replied.

           She rolled her eyes, “I know you’re gonna say we should work together more-”

           “It would be great! We would be able to fight all those bad guys together and- and you would have a better suit,” he pointed out.

           Annie let out a sigh, “Well if you wanna stop the bad guys, there’s a guy shoplifting right there across the street.”

           “Wait really?”

           “Um… yeah, he’s literally running away, it’s so fucking obvious,” she said, starting to run for the guy.

           Once she was close enough, she set up a barrier around the guy, keeping him from being able to run away. Then Spider-Man ran in right behind her and webbed his arms to the wall. Annie went up to the guy, finding small stocking stuffers in his pockets and beneath his hoodie.

           “Please, please let me go, these are for my kids. I don’t make enough to get them gifts this year, but I- well I don’t need them knowing that,” the man said.

           “That doesn’t mean you can just steal stuff, man,” Spider-Man said, crossing his arms, “You’re a criminal.”

           Annie frowned, “Spidey, his kids, though.”

           “No, no, I get it. I just don’t have the money, you know? But you guys do what you gotta do,” the man said, seeming resigned.

           Annie shook her head, grabbing at the webbing, “No, you get that to your kids. Just don’t steal again. Now, I need you to hurry up outta here,” she said, blasting the webbing off from the wall.

           “Thank you, thank you so much!” he said before continuing to run.

           Annie held Spider-Man back, silently cursing herself because she knew that it wasn’t right, but she couldn’t help feeling for the poor man. Who knew what his life had been like? When she was certain that the man was out of sight, Annie dropped her powers.

           “What the hell?! He was a bad guy, we’re supposed to stop guys like that,” he started.

           Annie sighed, “I know, but he didn’t… if he had kids, well, how would you feel about seeing your dad get thrown into jail for Christmas?”

           “But what if he’s done worse?”

           “What if this is all that he’s gonna do?”

           “Swan, I just, I don’t think you made the smartest choice here, and I can’t believe you would just stop me like that!” he replied as they walked.      

           She shrugged, “I felt bad, okay? Learning that your parents are shitty people sucks, I don’t care what age you are.”

           “And you would know a lot about that?”

           “Actually, yeah. So I’d know more about this situation than you ever would, okay? Okay.”

           “Woah, Swan, I’m sorry you don’t have a great home life, but you can’t just let every criminal off the hook because they have lives.”

           “Can’t I though? No one was hurt, he wasn’t going to hurt-”

           “You don’t know that.”

           “And neither do you. It wasn’t our place,” Annie insisted, “Now, I’m gonna run off and help some more people, and you’re gonna run off and stop following me for right now.”

Tag list: @flushings-here / @upsidedownparker / @gaypanda / @ijustdontknowsometimes / @lionsfandomsandbearsohmy / @thwipparker (just ask to be added to the tag list)

[tommyoboe]

MANCHESTER - PART TWENTY ONE.

I just had another read of my last Paris blog entry and honestly, it's just so nice not to see the contents of the house swimming around.

Settling back into Manchester life has been surprisingly straightforward after coming from the mad world that is Paris. It's a wonderful place, but to live there is something else. Even just not having to take ten minutes out of the day to decipher in French how I'll ask for some musical parts is a huge relief, and to be back in a place where I'm truly comfortable is right and what's needed for this last semester.

Performing the Vaughan Williams Oboe Concerto last Tuesday in the Concerto Competition final was joyful, even if it wasn't technically perfect. It was one of the first times I noticed my improvements since Paris and for that I'm grateful.

I got to see my mum and Ant that Thursday, who had kindly brought my remaining belongings from home that I left over Christmas. We also chatted a great deal about the last few months, what has been gained from my time away and what the future holds. We also had the usual discussion on everything wrong with the world. I also muttered my usual expletives at non-mask wearers.

Lovely day out.

Playing with other musicians has once again been a delight, in quartet and orchestra rehearsals. The latter have been extremely challenging in places, with repertoire that is rather beyond my current remit. Certain passages have come out in a splat of panic, which funnily enough, is not how they are supposed to sound. However, more important elements such as intonation and blend of sound are generally promising at this stage.

Last weekend I welcomed Cameron here in Manchester for the first time since the summer and we enjoyed a largely food based weekend of pie, coffee, homely bakes, deli treats and Brooklyn Nine-Nine. I even made five reeds and reflected on a personal level about what has been working well since arriving back in the UK. I am finding this to be a useful exercise in building motivation and finding contentment in the everyday, something that I have struggled with in the past.

It wouldn't be a blog post of mine without an amusing anecdote or two. Unfortunately I don't think trying to sort a jammed drawer with a ruler at midnight compares to any of the disasters I had in Paris, but it filled this week's spot suitably. Earlier that evening I caught up with some home friends over Zoom, which was lots of fun, although my mind admittedly got itself tangled up with apprehensions about areas of concern over the following few days, which on reflection, was just silly. However, l learned from it so there's a positive.

Lessons have been thoroughly beneficial and enjoyable since being back. I have this new enthusiasm to get exactly what I want out of each one, and my tutors have commented on a difference in my sound, which just makes me ecstatic really. After a slog through lessons of things not being good enough and feeling like quitting the instrument altogether, it means so much more to have some validation again. I just have to be more confident as a player this year.

Cameron has been here again this weekend, and I feel incredibly lucky to have him back in my life on a more regular basis, as well as all those I have missed during my time away. Just writing this in the comfort of home with him asleep next to me is all I need.

However, we treated ourselves to more pie, some sensational pork belly and grilled cheese; then life enhancing Gooey cookies and today a dinner of deli treats. After running through some audition material it will be time to take it easy for the rest of the day. I have a busy couple of weeks so this time will be enjoyed.

Manchester, it's good to have you back in my life.

[greyknighterotica]

I am confused. I thought you were much farther along with your healing. Lately you speak of your illness returning. Are you sick, well, better, not better? A little more clarity for those of us supporting you?

Sure, since it’s not been a straight line for me, either.

In short? I’ve recovered a lot, have a lot more energy, it’s why I can try and learn to sing some days now, my voice is deeper.

But it’s also internal and involves large, complex, interconnected systems. When I first got on this path in February the idea was get patched up, say about six weeks, and then about six months of recovery.

The patching up took about twice as long, involved getting on antibiotics for the third time in my life, destroyed my voice besides, etc. So instead of six weeks, it was about 15 before I could get back to going, another 2-4 to get everything operational with, you know, a “sick mind.” Trouble concentrating, writing, not coughing long enough to record, etc.

From there I’ve been really, really good about following doctor advice. Some days (some weeks) I’ve batted .1000. Every pill when they said, every calorie what they said, only water to drink.

But even on the days where I lived a little? Water. Pills. Exercises.

I’m at a point now, at the end of 2017, where illness doesn’t slow me down much at all, though I still have flare ups. I’m hoping to be about as recovered as you can by March, but I’m pushing myself out there like I’m healed by May unless I feel differently.

Lastly, the stress of the move was awful, and involved some pretty nasty things to happen to me personally. It was, in fact, the toughest experience I’ve had getting an apartment, and then when I secured it, had to move rapidly while very, very ill during the day of the move.

So it took me awhile to appreciate, took me a while to recover from that, but after a few weeks here I’ve noticed that I’m healing rapidly here, just rapidly, taking pictures, etc, just to prove it to myself.

For instance, I’ve always had bags under my eyes. Always, always, always, it wasn’t a matter of sleep, they’re something termed “allergy shiners.” They’re gone now. I have, sometimes, bagless days.

I’m so much better now that I consider myself “healed” as a person, even if the project isn’t showing it yet due to the long, hard slog that was 2017. Even if I need a little psychological time, too, before it’s full effects are held.

But I’m no longer hesitant about trying out for a semester of college again, because it wouldn’t be too many resources to lose now if I did get sick, and the chances of getting too sick to study things repeatedly seems doubtful after the last 100 days or so.

I have the energy again, now in some ways, to really plan and make good on my ambitions for me, to myself, in addition to you. Or at least I hope.

Still learning how to use it. Still finding balances, but I’m encouraged on the creative side. Because that part matters a lot. There’s frustrations now with street noises and productivity, I know, but the core of creative work is creation.

And I want to create. I have so much more left to in this vein, we haven’t even hit the rich part yet.

So thank you for supporting me. I thought I’d write up a brief list on what your money or reblogs (because even if you can’t pay me, your notes introduce me to others who can) did for my recovery:

- Allowed it to happen financially so I didn’t have to get a job in phone sales

- Allowed me to buy medicine (upwards of 200 bucks a month on top of insurance) and rarely have to ration that out.

- Allowed me to eat the most boring diet ever (BRAT) to recover without it being even more tedious than normal by allowing me to eat frozen fruit for dessert and order in rice/naan 1-2 a week when I was having an episode.

- Several times I threw up on my sheets, my pillows, my clothes. Vomit usually means the beginning of a very rough period of health for me, so there would be suffering alongside the loss and shame. Because of you I didn’t have to cart the old, cheap clothes into a laundry mat a 2 am, but get some new 10 dollar ones. I cried at that one. I cried at that one when I got to order them and when they arrived.

- You allowed me to start singing and trying to sing, something I could never do before this year, though I had made efforts (my illness locks up my stomach muscles and airflow).

But most importantly.

There are a few pieces this year that if you look, if you listen carefully, you can hear that I’m not there. I’m going in and out of narration a bit, I can’t keep it straight.

I do not mean to be overly dramatic, but that is--death of some sort for me. And a death that I had made peace with, one that was accumulating and spreading and not lessening. A fog that would only grow called “age” or “normality” or “just how it goes I suppose.”

But it wasn’t. It was death. It was an early death and life lived with less emotion and feeling. It was something that would have taken years from me, maybe more I don’t think is too dramatic of a thing to write, given my understanding.

I was very, very sick and no doctor or nurse or parent or healer ever gave a fuck. No matter how much I begged them to listen to me. No matter what I asked for, plead or directed them toward.

But sight unseen, you did. You believed me. You let me take those weeks and months off where the pain was immense, my depression so manifest and my doubt so complete that I wasn’t there. Not in any real way. Barely in shambling body and projecting my spirit so far away from the pain that Lot’s wife could be saved through my zeal alone to look the other way while the fire engulfed everything I knew.

You did.

And so the rest has been happening. If too slowly.

And because you did, it is the best Christmas that I can remember. Without exaggeration. I do not have any fear of what happens on the 26th. I didn’t just “make it to here.”

There is vagueness here. That is intentional. I’m still not fully healed, ready to present myself to the world, etc.

I hope this does not take away from my sincerity though, that you still read it as such. If you enjoy seeing me happy, like my new voice, enjoy the fact that I’m trying to get together live shows and efforts and raise equipment standards and do more complex and emotional works.

You made this. You gave me these gifts and more.

Merry Christmas

[ruffsficstuffplace]

And The AWRD Goes To... (Part 20)

1:30 PM

“Welcome to General Mechanical Engineering, kiddos!” Nick said as he gazed at the rows of worktables before him, nodding slightly as he came to AWRD’s. “In this class, you’ll learn the basic principles of engineering, and the most commonly applied and used technologies that make our day-to-day life here in Remnant a little easier.

“You’re going to learn how our various types of airships fly, ships sail, and vehicles roll out; you’re going to learn the intricacies of the massive utility systems that keep our capital cities humming, like Mistral’s indoor plumbing, Mantle’s central heating, and Shade Academy’s famous air-circulation vents; and you’re definitely going to learn how duct tape is one of the most ridiculously useful and versatile tools you could ever have here or out in the field!

“It’s why I always keep a roll on me at all times—never know when something might break down and need it, which is especially important if you’re a knock-off Dustman like myself.

“Anyway, though this is mostly going to be a practical application class where your grade depends on how well your future projects work—or as is more often the case, don’t work—there’ll still be a written component, in keeping in line with the international standards of Huntsman Academies, plus plenty of research and reading on how to go about understanding, designing, dismantling, and putting machines back together, and especially figuring out just why the hell it burst into flames this time.

“Don’t think you can skip the manuals, and especially not the engineering standards and codes, kiddos—sure, strapping rockets onto a model ship will give you a great score in distance and speed, but if it crashes and blows up my wife again,…”

Nick narrowed his eyes. “… Failing your final exam is going to be the least of your worries.”

He relaxed. “As with all semesters, though, we’re going to start with a basic rundown of machineshop safety rules and equipment, the tools you’ll most likely be using both in here and out in the field, and how I expect you kiddos to be dividing the work. Don’t think you can unload all of this on your team’s gearhead if you want to pass, and as cliché as it sounds, you’re going to thank me some time in the future.

“Believe me, you’re going to thank your lucky stars you’ll eventually know how to do simple repair jobs on vehicle engines, stop plumbing leaks, and fix up the most commonly found power generators in the cities and remote villages.”

3:00 PM

“Welcome to your first of many Transportation and Navigation classes, students!” Professor Nelson said, shouting over the hum and clamour of Haven’s airship/vehicle hangar. “Today, you will begin learning and mastering one of the most important skills any huntsman or huntress should have: getting to where they need to go, in the most efficient and effective means possible!

“The world of Remnant is a vast place, and not every mission location will conveniently be on the path of mass transportation.

“There will also be times when you just can’t wait for the next airship flight out of any of the major cities or the larger settlements; or you’re too far away to get a good signal on the CCT; or you need to venture out to the very outskirts of civilization and beyond; or really, any of the many other situations where you will be forced to rely on your own wits, your knowledge, and the same tools the First Settlers had when they were just starting to explore this vast, wide, and wild world!

“In time, you will be trekking all over Mistral, cutting down vines and thick brush in the jungle, slogging it through the swamps and bogs, or fighting off the biting cold and howling winds as you make your up several mountains, but for now, you will be learning the very basics: everything everyone needs to navigate and travel through the city of Mistral and its outskirts by themselves, without the help of modern technology!

“Any questions?”

Amanda raised her hand.

Nelson nodded. “O’neill.”

“Ma’am, if we already happen to be masters of Trans-Nav—like, say, we lived in Vacuo all our lives—can we skip all the boring lessons about how to use compasses and read physical maps, and just skip straight to the races, the scavenger hunts, and going on delivery jobs...?” Amanda asked, smiling.

“Absolutely not!” Nelson replied, her face stern as ever.

Amanda blinked. “But--!”

“No ‘Buts!’” Nelson snapped. “I’m aware of how they do things in Vacuo, O’Neill, but we do things differently here in Mistral! Here, those that find themselves ahead of the rest swoop back, and look out for those lagging behind!

“And since you brought up the topic...” Nelson turned to the other students. “I will be expecting that sort of altruistic behaviour from all of you, for every other aspect of this class—save for all forms of cheating such as sharing answers during written exams, copying homework from each other, or agreeing to team up and sabotage the others during practical exams and especially the races, I will expect you all to help each other to pass this subject, regardless of your loyalties in or outside of Haven!

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am!” the students said, save for Amanda, who just stood around with a scowl on her face.

Nelson scowled right back, and stepped right up to her, students breaking formation and parting to the sides like water. “O’Neill: do I make myself clear?” she said, narrowing her eyes.

Amanda gritted her teeth, before she sighed heavily, and muttered, “Yes, ma’am...”

“Good.” Nelson said quietly. “Work on that attitude, O’Neill, or I promise you you won’t be here long enough to see the starting line,” she said, before she headed back to the front and the students reformed in her wake.

“This is bullshit...” Amanda muttered as Nelson entertained another student’s question.

“Just hang in there, Amanda,” Yang whispered as she stood beside her. “We’ll be roaring up and down the mountain roads soon enough.”

Amanda smiled, until she found out that day’s lesson was going to be basic map reading, using tools like compasses, and other essentials of field navigation. Her mood didn’t improve as Nelson grouped up the more experienced students with the ones less so, had the former supervise an assessment test involving practice maps.

Lists of locations to be found were given out, along pins with heads styled like various landmarks and symbols, and tools like compasses, dividers, and pens; Amanda was somewhat okay when they started, but as the wrong answers and the wild guesses started to pile up, so her patience wore thin.

“So… is it… here…?” Jaune asked as he pinned a section of their group’s map.

“AGH!” Amanda cried as she put her hands to her head. “Dude, does this seem like it’d be the sight of a thriving farming village to you? Look at the area around it, for fuck’s sake!” she said, throwing her hands toward it. “Do you see any rivers, notes about mountain springs, or maybe even a marker that there’s a giant underground well that they could tap into?”

Jaune flinched. “Uh… no…?”

“Exactly!” Amanda cried. “Water sources, man, think water sources!” she said as she threw her hands up. “That’s what a village like this would need—hell, what any settlement short of a temporary camp needs!”

“Okay, okay, sorry!” Jaune said as he pulled out the pin, looked at the vast sea of still unlabeled, colourful splotches and symbols. “Ah… ah… is it this one…?!” he said as he pinned a large section of water.

Amanda made a choked noise, her eye twitching violently, her hands shaking; Jaune paled as the other members of their group either began to hide behind him or move out of the way.

Then, Nelson stepped up behind Amanda, and put her hand on her shoulder, gripped it firmly. “No, no it is not, Arc; you just put your village straight in the middle of a bog, where it’d be impossible to grow anything. You and the others try and solve your exercises on your own for a while, O’Neill and I will just be taking a short walk.

“No objections from you, right, O’Neill…?” Nelson asked.

Amanda sucked in a breath, and started getting up on her feet. “No ma’am...” she muttered.

Jaune sighed and turned limp, everyone else in the group had expressions of relief or impending dread as Nelson escorted Amanda out of the lecture area, to a walkway on the outside of the hangar.

Amanda smiled as she saw the afternoon sun, felt the fresh air on her face, before she looked at Nelson with a scowl. “Am I in trouble right now...?” she asked flatly.

“No, I just figured I needed to cool that hot-head of yours before you actually exploded, say something you might come to regret,” Nelson replied as they walked.

“Well, I’ve got a suggestion: how about you not put me in charge of teaching the newbies, and just let me practice my riding skills somewhere? I promise I won’t use it as an excuse to jet off out of class,” Amanda said, holding one hand up as she discretely crossed the fingers of her other.

Nelson nodded. “Noted, but here’s a suggestion back: how about you suck up your pride, and do the job that was given to you?” she barked.

“I’ve read your file, O’Neill, and I’ll admit, your achievements in the wilds are impressive, and your performance for the practical section of the GCD was outstanding, but if you want to have a hope in hell of graduating from Haven and getting your license, much less not getting put on probation just after you got in, I suggest you put your bad attitude on hold, and learn to have much more patience when helping your fellow students out.”

“But this is basic stuff!” Amanda cried as they neared the end of the catwalk. “I know all this by heart—hell, I used this shit every single day I was out there in Vacuo! I could probably even tell you what direction a compass is pointing in while blindfolded!

“Why do I have to teach the newbies and do your job?” she snapped as they turned around and began to head back.

“Because, it gives you experience in teaching your skills to others, which will be incredibly useful if you need civvies to know what know, or improve your team’s performance as a whole and your shared GPA; it forces you to learn and get used to working with other hunters, like you will be out in the field and many of your classes from second year onward; and it’s faster and more efficient if we have student instructors getting everyone up to speed, so we can get to those races you want so badly much sooner,” Nelson replied.

“No one survives alone in Vacuo, right? ‘Tend to a lend a hand to others, so they’ll do the same when you’re on the other end.’?”

“Yeah, I know, I know, we say that all the time!” Amanda said. “But we also say that there’s just some people you should just toss out to the sands because they’re more trouble than they’re worth...”

“And you don’t think that someone might be you…?”

Amanda gritted her teeth, tried to make a comeback, found she had none.

“You’re skilled, Amanda, there’s no denying that,” Nelson said as she stopped before the door leading back into the hangar. “You’d have made an excellent ranger back out in Vacuo, but the life you chose is to be a huntress.

“And unlike rangers, huntresses do not work alone, so I want you to think: do you really want this life, do the work it takes to get a hunting license, whether or not you find it fun…?” she asked, her arms crossed and her eyes narrowed at Amanda.

She cast her eyes down, and didn’t reply.

“Don’t feel the need to give me a verbal reply,” Nelson said as she turned back to the door. “Your performance from here on out will be answer enough.”

She opened it, and the two of them were surprised to find Ruby waiting just inside. “Oh, hi Professor Nelson!” she said, waving awkwardly. “I was just waiting for you here, till you were done saying whatever it is you needed to say to Amanda.”

“I appreciate the courtesy, Rose,” Nelson replied. “Did something happen while we were out?”

“Oh, no, nothing bad!” Ruby replied. “It’s just that, you know, I finished teaching my group early, and I saw Amanda’s struggling with their work, and I had nothing else to do, so I stepped in to help them, and now they’re done.”

She paused. “Sorry. I can’t help it when I see someone struggling with a problem I can help fix, especially when it’s actually really easy.”

“You didn’t happen to place all their pins and draw their routes for them, did you…?” Nelson asked warily.

Ruby’s eyes widened, before shook her head. “Oh, no, not at all! I just helped them figure out where something probably won’t be or they definitely wouldn’t want to go, so they had an easier time figuring out where it might actually be, or what’s a good stop or not. Or just better odds at guessing the right answer, I guess.”

Nelson smiled. “Good on you for stepping up when you saw the need, Rose. Hey, could you do me a favour?”

“Uh, sure, what is it?”

“Can you talk to O’Neill here about your teaching method?”

“Ah, I’m not really sure if I could call what I did a ‘method,’ but sure…?”

“Great, I owe you for this, Rose,” Nelson said, nodding at her before she returned to the others.

Ruby looked at Amanda, awkwardly stood there for a while. “So, uh…” she started. “Any questions, since I don’t really know where to start?”

“How did you not get pissed off when they got simple questions wrong?” Amanda asked.

“Oh! That’s easy, I just put in the same attitude I have when I build something and it doesn’t go right—I can just get frustrated and angry, or I can also start figuring out WHY it isn’t working the way I wanted it to.

“Or I guess in this case, why they’re having such a hard time and getting things wrong. Turns out, Jaune and a lot of them were from Vale or Atlas, where the geography is a lot more uniform, and water sources all tend to be fresh, or just frozen. Any other questions?”

Amanda shook her head. “Nah, save your breath; I’ll just convince Nelson not to put me on tutor duty anymore, thanks...”

“You really think you can convince her?” Ruby asked. “I heard from Weiss who heard from her grandparents that she was ex-air force than a huntress, which is why she’s so, uh, strict.”

“Tch, I’ll figure it out, Ruby, don’t worry...” Amanda said, before the two of them rejoined the rest of the class.

Soon enough, the students were all lined up in front of Nelson once more, the maps resting on a long table nearby.

“I will admit, I am NOT happy with what I’ve seen from most of you today...” Nelson started, eyeing students like Jaune. “It seems far too many of you have gotten to used to relying on others when it comes to navigating the wilds, be they your chaperoning huntsmen and huntresses, your fellow students in combat school, or the CCT’s GPS…

“… However, since the rest of you are capable to masters of map reading, basic cartography, and navigating the old fashioned way, and have been doing a good job of teaching your skills to the others, there’s a good chance we can still cover the entire syllabus, including the Yamasachihiko Relay for your final exam.”

Yang and Amanda brightened up.

“Let me emphasize, however, that it’s a chance—spend your time between now and Friday wisely, students, and start brushing up on your skills, asking others for help, or give yourself a crash course in the very basics of wilderness navigation; we as a class will be moving to each new component as one for safety reasons, so how soon or how late we even start going through the practice courses are on each of your shoulders.

“Teams JAYS and AWRD, stay behind; the rest of you: dismissed!”

Most of the students cheered, some of them sighed, and trudged off in the direction of the library. Among JAYS and AWRD,  expressions were a mix of nervous, curious, and annoyed.

Nelson stepped up to JAYS first. “Arc: please tell Manbavaran that it is in her best interest to attend all of her classes regularly and punctually; I don’t care about whatever duties Dr. Freya has given her now that she’s part of her intern army, she should find some way to honour all of her obligations, especially with her probation.

“O’Neill, Xiao Long: I strongly suggest you help impart your knowledge to Arc; again, the sooner he and the rest of the lagging students have an adequate grasp on the basics, the sooner you’ll all be burning rubber on the tracks.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” they replied with varying levels of enthusiasm, Jaune nervously giving an awkward salute, before he sheepishly put his hand down.

“Dismissed,” Nelson said, before she turned the last students. “As for you AWRD...” she started, a stern look on her face.

Everyone but Diana tensed up.

Nelson broke into a smile. “You all have an excellent grasp on the essentials, and I would really appreciate it if you could find the time to lend some help to your struggling classmates. All completely optional, of course, but there’ll be extra credit and other benefits if you do.”

“Thanks, Professor Nelson!” Akko said, smiling again.

“It won’t be likely, considering we have our other classes to attend to, but we’ll keep it in mind,” Diana added.

Nelson nodded. “Good to hear, AWRD. Dismissed!”

“Haahh…!” Akko sighed happily, smiling as she and the others turned around headed to the exit. “Our first official day of classes is over! Man, I thought it’d never end! It’s so good that our Wednesdays are still free, right, guys?”

Diana frowned. “Akko, you do realize we still have to work on our reading assignments, acquiring our textbooks, and all the other work we missed from yesterday’s classes, yes?”

“I know,” Akko whispered, still smiling. “Just please, let me enjoy the fantasy that I have all this free time to do whatever I want, just for a little while...” they kept walking in silence for a few moments, before she sighed, shoulders slumping as a gloom fell over her. “… Okay, I’m done… let’s get to work…”

She sucked in a breath, straightened herself up, and raised her open palm skyward. “Team AWRD: to the library!” she cried, beaming.

“To the library!” Weiss cheered, raising her own hand to the heavens.

“What was that all about?” Diana asked.

“Oh, do you not know the show Starlight Crusaders?” Akko asked as she resumed walking.

“Pardon...?” Diana asked.

“Oh, I know that!” Ruby chirped. “It’s that kid’s show that’s really popular here, like a new season every single year, merchandise, video games, live events, pretty much everyone and their grandparents in this kingdom knows it?”

“The one and only!” Weiss replied.

“And I’m assuming that was an imitation of an iconic element of that show?” Diana asked.

“Yep!” Akko replied. “They do it all the time before they head to adventures.”

Diana nodded. “Well, I certainly won’t stop you two from doing that, but I won’t be joining in, especially not here in public.”

“I don’t know, it could be kinda fun!” Ruby said. “It could be our team unity thing, like getting matching T-shirts with our initials on them. Though, I guess if we do get T-shirts, we’d always have to either walk side by side in the same order all the time, or lined up in a row also in sequence, so people don’t misread our team name…

“Maybe we should just get decorative sashes and wear them around our waists, kind of like what Weiss’ grandpa did with his lucky scarf.”

“Schoolwork first before discussing coordinating our clothing and accessories, please, Ruby,” Diana said as they neared the library, joining the sea of students pouring in or out of its many entrances.

They tried to stay together, but soon the crowds got too thick; Akko and Weiss smiled and waved goodbye, before they split up with their respective study buddies, and found their own way into the library.

Note: A writing book once said scenes should accomplish one or ideally two goals at the same time: advance the plot, and show character. I hope you guys don’t mind that my brain decided to put in some extra detail about all the classes in Haven, and what a huntsman’s education looks like.

It’s really funny to me that for as how the show revolves around technical colleges, we only know of two classes: history and intro to Grimm, as taught by Oobleck and Port.

I promise, next chapter, we have some study buddy antics, along with the return of Weiss’ condition she’s so ashamed off…

[themaraudingmisfits-blog]

To me and mine

15 June, 2017 It’s 11.43 a.m. and my mind is doing a run through of the crazies. Here I am, all 23 years of me, finally a graduate, no more college classes to be late to, no more stinky shirts to re-wear inside out, no more laid back semester breaks, all that’s left is a socially awkward and confused me, a lot of painful, possibly forever goodbyes, misgivings about the job I’m about to take up, a lot of pressure from mother goose to settle down with Mr dashing and handsome, and the big gaping hole that my future is. I feel like I’m a contestant on fear factor who’s centre stage all the time, all the monsters under my bed smirking at me and I’m stuck between getting my shit together and fucking things up more.

Trying to come to terms with all these things snowballing towards me all at once is turning out to be a herculean task. Little me, worrying about that test, about random weekday getaways and rushing off to snag that last piece of gooey rum balls from my favourite bakery, keeping the rat out of the room..I remember me having soul crushing debates, arguments and getting frustrated about such mundane things like it was yesterday… Oh wait…it was yesterday (-_-) What exactly am I supposed to do right now? Go to a new city or stay close to the familiar? Higher studies or slog and study for one of the dozens of exams for those much coveted cushy jobs? Get an apartment? Use my newfound financial independence to spend or save? Start looking for a prince charming on matrimonial sites like a good little girl or look around for one or not marry at all? Sleep with my boyfriend or remain a virgin forever? Go pub hopping on Fridays or stay sober? Decisions, decisions and more decisions, they’re hurtling towards me, the girl who can’t even pick a soup off the menu.

So I do what I normally do, I avoid dealing with it and grab a huge piece of overly sweetened mood uplifting pie and skim through my pile of favourite reads but some weird feeling pull me to the dustier part of the book shelf, the one filled with history, financial jargon, self help books and the lot and since none of these really tickle my not so happy moody self, I go for poetry and settle down with it and I end up with Frost …

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveller long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth

It was one of those moments when in some weirdly fucked up way the universe was giving me a sign and I chose that moment to be accepting of other-worldly powers that were reaching out to me and trying to tell me something. I, was that traveller, standing there like an ass, not knowing what to do or where to go and instead of two paths there were like a gazillion more.

Some of them look so comfortable, ones that seem like a walk in the park, a career which would support me financially and help me climb the corporate ladder, a suitable groom who’s settled abroad, a lovely two storeyed house, angelic children, dinner parties and the rest, but, what one forgets is that it involves a lot of boss-ass-kissing, unrewarding hours, love being stuffed down your throat whether you like it or not, unfulfilled dreams and an unhappy you. The universe speaks out to me in a Trelawney-esque voice, full of foreboding, “ my dear, walk away from the strong pull of the big Indian dream, wander, find your own, let your dreams belong to you…”.

I see the ones left over, the dark ones filled with predictions of gloom and doom, a lot of sweat and toil and setbacks, full of disapproving glances from parents, friends, relatives, even your local kiranawala, basically any random guy in society, a lot failures, tombstones of days and months of hard work gone awry , it’s a path of struggle and strife, but then in all that darkness there’s the light at the end of the tunnel, lit up by little glowy fireflies, reminders of childhood dreams, dreams of a room made of books, shelves with no end to them, books stacked one on top of another, little bundles of joy sitting around me, enraptured by the stories I have to tell them, dreams of a typewriter worn out but happily taka-taka-ing away, words pouring out of them, words that make you smile, laugh, cry, one at a time or all at once, words lovingly written with a favourite pen by ink stained fingers , dreams of wearily walking across unknown valleys, putting down a backpack filled to the brim with knickknacks from along the way, bending down to drink some refreshing water from the brook, breathing in the air of the yet unexplored country, excited about the unknown, nostalgic about the places you left behind, dreams of making a home and not just a house, filled with love and laughter and tiny chubby babes. I am suddenly filled with courage, courage the likes of America and Samurai Jack.

For those dreams alone, I shall walk this path, scary and full of monsters, with hopes and whims and fancies and also try not to get fucked up mentally along this road not taken, strolling by fields of stupidity, ghosts of mistakes, small peaks of achievements, sloughs of despair to reach pastures of joy, jumping and shouting profanities all along, only to repeat it all over again reminding myself to strive for happiness, settle for nothing lesser than the utmost happiness. And along my way I will not change who I am, I’ll still be my silly annoying self ,I needn’t fit into filling the cliché cupcake mould, I’m gonna make my own mould, colourful, bold, crazy. Maybe it’ll be half baked, maybe I’ll mostly be baking a batch of those sad deformed cupcakes or the hard as rock ones but that’s okay, I’ll just make a whole new batch all over again. So back the fuck off universe, I’m going to storm in and bake myself a few cupcakes!!

I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I- I took the one less travelled by, And that made all the difference -a commandment for life by Robert Frost.

XOXO Un-tameably yours

[mgmarkham]

Chapter 2.5 “The Locker”

My parents put in wood floors and wall to wall mirrors so Beth could teach classes to children at Sola. With Damian’s stylish lair as inspiration, I dragged my bureau into the walk-in closet, along with the twin mattress. Pulling my writing desk under the window, I rolled out my sewing machine table, along with bolts of faux fur and velvet.  An hour later, I’d stitched fur swaths together with velvet, with flannel sewn envelop style over it.  Turned right side out, I had a huge rectangle area rug lined with flannel. Spreading it out in the center of the room, and moving my wingback chair back into place.  What I really needed was a coffee table, and a Victorian couch. It was already 6:30 am, and I needed to get to school.  Today was going to be a good day.  Tonight I had class in the city.   Coasting down the hill from our driveway, the same black Lexus approached. It had tinted windows, possibly diplomatic, with an insignia resembling a bolt of lightning on its plates. The car slowed near our driveway, then sped past me. I dismissed the feeling that someone was watching me from behind the glass as paranoia, and pedaled harder. The brisk morning ride turned into an escape as I cruised along, forming plot lines for Derek in my head, as he untangled the complex web of conspiracy surrounding the Malaysian assassination plot, with the help of a mysteriously insightful librarian he’d met whilst doing research on Lithuanian crime boss families. Nearly to my locker, I heard the buzz of voices. Elbowing my way past a dozen students, I saw why everyone was standing around.  My locker door had been removed from it’s hinges, and was nowhere to be seen.  A rainbow assortment of my folders and binders, dumped in a pile on the floor, riffled, ripped, and covered in yellow mustard.   Someone next to me noticed I was there and whispered to the person next to them.  Furtive glances came my way, and they quickly moved off down the hall.  In moments, I was alone with the ruin of my work.  I wondered if anyone could have realized that it was the next semester’s worth of assignments, each neatly completed and filed.  I doubted it.  It looked more like a rabid raccoon had scavenged its way through the locker, a rabid raccoon armed with a mustard bottle. I could think of only one person who would stoop to such a mindless, mean-spirited prank. But would Angela would take time out of her busy social schedule to engineer this show?  I must have gotten under her skin deeper than I’d thought With a long sigh, I kicked the papers into a pile, then slogged to the cafeteria for a trash bag. Gathering everything on the floor up, I just emptied all the rest of the contents of the locker in too.  No point in leaving it open to future vandals. I’d need a new locker assignment. Rounding the corner to the office, an angry hiss stopped me.  Retreating, I peeked around to see Angela, her back to me, whispering hotly to Seth.  Dark brows gathered like angry birds, he looked seriously angry.  But not as angry as Angela.  Moving past, gaze averted, I heard more than saw her slap him hard across the cheek.  Surprised, my eyes met his for a second.  In that moment his expression shifted from surprise to anger, then unease. With an effort he summoned back the aloof mask.  Eyes slid away from mine and he snorted down at Angela.  Arms crossing his chest, his sneer could have peeled paint, and he murmured something unintelligible, his lip curling into a snarl.  She stiffened and marched away, only then seeing me.  Glaring, she tossed her hair and passed me with a little smirk.   Strange. But not my problem. Hearing footfalls, I realized Seth was following me. He caught up to me easily, and kept pace. Glancing sideways, I saw the dark red hand print materializing on his jaw.  He was looking directly back, so I glanced away.  He walked silently beside me the rest of the way to the office.   My hand on the office door, I stopped, ready to inquire if he was going to follow me in there, too, but he was gone as suddenly as he’d come.  Again I wondered why I was now an object of interest to the upper echelons of popular power.  I hadn’t done anything, that I knew of, besides publicly insulting Angela last week.  That might, might explain the locker thing, but certainly didn’t warrant any attentions from the infamous Seth Watson. I metaphysically scratched my head.  Really, I should be more appreciative. Like nearly every other female at M-Town High, I had covertly observed Seth since he’d moved here freshman year. Beyond the general gorgeousness, he dressed well. His family vacationed in Paris and Madrid, while most M-towners went to The Cape or Disney World. (I, of course, was doomed to our cross country trips to the Midwest crammed into the family station wagon.) He was mysterious, monied, and exuded confidence.  Lead in the school play every year, he also captained the debate team, the soccer team, and won awards with delicate pen and ink illustrations. Rare for faculty to have a such an accomplished student, they fawned over him, and the rest of us had sighed over him, too. But I couldn’t help but notice his scorn for everyone around him. I didn’t think anyone should have that much social power over others, especially since he seemed to distain us, and rarely spoke to anyone but Angela and her minions. I wasn’t sure if all Seth’s admirers realized it, but I could see it on his face; he thought he was better than this place.   Was I jealous? I’d have given anything to travel out of M-town. But it was more than that. I couldn’t respect someone who allied themselves with a vain, petty townie like Angela. It’s one of the evil rules of the universe.  Trust me, I know- I’ve lived with my sister Beth all my life: Brains, talent, and creativity do not stack up to the golden calves, tiny-waist, and blond, busty appeal of the girlie-girl.  Never have, never will. Seth was no different. I couldn’t stay interested in someone who didn’t see past lip gloss and the push up bras.  Perhaps no male could, which likely explained why I’d given up on them ever noticing me.  One thing was certain: whatever had attracted Seth’s attention to me now, he must have an ulterior motive.  What that could be, I didn’t have the faintest idea. Administration issued me a new locker, next to the girl’s locker rooms, and on different floor from all of my classes, but at least I had somewhere to dump my mustard sodden books for the day.  Even after I left them, I couldn’t get the scent of mustard off my hands. Riding home, I wondered again about the whole locker effacing, face slapping, Seth-stalking day, and wished I could get some sleep.

[lsr-psychosphere]

Romantic Psychology

by Tejasvini Kumar Psychology Through My Lenses, September 2017

It feels like yesterday when I heard the sweetest, most delicious words I had ever heard or will ever hear. My mother said, “Psychology is the study of why people behave the way that they do.” And after hearing them I wanted nothing more than to know why people behave the way that they do. In retrospect I feel that they weren’t that special. But my thirteen year old self was sold.

It was the only thing I could think of for the rest of the week. I kept thinking, “That is so cool!” and with the innocence and foolishness of a young teen, I decided that that was what I wanted to study. A psychologist was all that I wanted to be.

It wasn’t until years later, right before I graduated school and started telling people what I wished to do with my life, that I realized how horribly things could have gone for me had it been any other discipline that I had fallen for as I had for Psychology. The only thing that had sustained my interest in the field and my grit to study it was this romantic idea of it that had been planted in my head by my mother years ago. Unfortunately, that is how most people see it. It is unfortunate because there is so much more to it that just learning about why people do what they do.

There have been multiple times when people have asked me to read their minds. It is not even annoying anymore. I just feel bad that that is how my discipline is viewed.  Innumerable times my father has asked me to “stop showing off my psychology skills” when we are having an argument (and mind you I am winning), thinking that through my evil psychological prowess I have somehow learned how to push his buttons and then slowly figure out all his dark secrets.

Psychology, however magical and interesting it may seem, has its own dirty groundwork that you have to do before you are even close to explaining the behaviours of others or understanding them. You’ll have to study statistics and the tiniest details of the human brain with big, difficult names, study extensively the details of research methodology, and write endless reports on the research you conduct. It will take you an entire semester to understand the meaning of what the word “psychological disorder” itself means, a year to settle the nature/nurture debate and a lifetime to decide whether psychology is a science or not. It isn’t ‘fun’ and ‘cool’ all the time. It is boring and miserable too. It does provide you with some answers but it does not make you all-knowing.

Slogging through all of this can make you fall in love with this romantic idea of psychology, though. That is what happened to me. It was this one day when I was sitting in class, and I thought, “The brain is the most efficient machine in the world, cloaked in the most secrets.” And I was in love again; the cheesy kind. The kind I felt that fateful day as a thirteen year old. But this time it felt justified. I had started seeing the reality of what psychological theory was and what it meant to be a psychologist. To put it dramatically - I had seen the dark side but had chosen to fall in love with the good one.

On an ending note… I don’t know if that makes any sense. LOL.