#believe it or not that rum is well researched | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blues824 · 9 months

Note

Continuing the TWST Boys Go to Reader's World??? headcanons, can I have the Third Years this time?

Reader is mentioned and only pronouns used are secondary pronouns. The amount of research going into this 😥😥

Trey Clover

Favorite Country/City: A lot of treats that he makes are from France, so I believe he would love being on the tasting side of the whole ordeal. Plus, candied violets (originally called violettes cristallisees) originate from there as well. As for his favorite city, it’s basic but it’s Paris. It’s the dessert capital of France, so yeah.

Favorite Cuisine/Dish: He is a bit of a connoisseur when it comes to multiple different cuisines, as people from all over have come to his family’s bakery. However, if he had to choose one, it would have to be Spanish cuisine. He just strikes me as the type. French food would come in second, but we are going by entrees and not desserts.

Favorite Drink: I feel like he would be a bit tired of tea, and coffee goes well with a lot of sweets but sometimes he wants something else. So, hot chocolate is a great go-to. Plus, you can spike it with bourbon or rum and many other things, and he prefers bourbon.

Favorite Souvenir: A cognac that he has used to cook multiple different things. He picked it up at a small shop in France, and the brandy is great for making sauces and for deglazing a pan. He rarely drinks it, but it’s of great quality.

Favorite Singers/Songs: He is an old soul, and with that being said, he likes older music. I feel like he would like songs in different languages as well. So, I think he would like the song Nunca es Suficiente, the Natalia Lafourcade version.

Favorite Movie: He doesn’t have a favorite movie, but rather favorite shows. He loves Nailed It!, Zumbo’s Just Desserts, Sugar Rush, but most importantly: The Great British Baking Show.

Cater Diamond

Favorite Country/City: This guy is hard because he would want to go absolutely everywhere and he would love everywhere he travels to. However, he would say that he loved Japan the most, as the people were very friendly and it was the first time he actually tried hard to learn the language so that he could be respectful.

Favorite Cuisine/Dish: His canonical favorite food is spicy ramen, so I would say Japanese cuisine would be his favorite. But, he has a more diverse taste than just that, so he would probably like Eastern Asian cuisine as a whole. It has a lot of savory and spicy foods that he absolutely loves.

Favorite Drink: He is also a margarita lover, and even though a lot of them are sweet, they are still delicious. However, he orders salt rather than sugar on the rim of the cup because he doesn’t want extra sweetness from sugar.

Favorite Souvenir: He picked up a pair of chopsticks that he always uses. He has finally got chopstick etiquette down, and the set he purchased at a souvenir shop served as a reminder of his hard work.

Favorite Singers/Songs: He is so into both K-Pop and J-Pop that it’s not even funny. He is one of those fans that will tear you up if you didn’t know the words, their meaning, who all the members in the specific group are, etc.

Favorite Movie: I had no idea he was into skateboarding, so I have to say that his favorite movie is Dogtown and Z-Boys. It’s a documentary-type film about the Zephyr skateboard team who helped develop modern skateboarding in the ‘70’s.

Leona Kingscholar

Favorite Country/City: He is not one to travel voluntarily, so you would have to drag him places. He does want to spoil you, so he will (hesitantly) go along with you. If he had to choose a favorite, it would be Sudan. He doesn’t have a favorite city, but rather a favorite state: the River Nile state. It holds the Meroë Pyramids, and he thought it was pretty cool that Sudan has the most pyramids in the world.

Favorite Cuisine: Pretty far from Sudan, but Argentinian food would be his favorite. They are known for having the best beef, and Leona loves having a good steak. The only downside is that it’s usually served with a few veggies or a chimichurri sauce composed of vegetables.

Favorite Drink: He doesn’t really care, so I would think that he likes beer. He strikes me as the type to have a glass bottle of beer that he holds nearer to his hip; the traditional uncle (Unca) pose.

Favorite Souvenir: When he first went to Sudan, he dressed to fit along with local traditions. He wore a jalabiya in order to maintain modesty, and he actually liked it and hung it in his closet for the next time he visited a country that prefers modesty.

Favorite Singers/Songs: It started as him getting into his edgy phase, but he did not want to go emo. He prefers rock, specifically AC/DC. His favorite song is Highway to Hell.

Favorite Movie: He usually falls asleep during every movie he watches. However, he did like the movie Silence of the Lambs. The way it left him disturbed and on-guard as well as made him want to stay awake is the reason why he would like such a gruesome movie.

Vil Schoenheit

Favorite Country/City: Cologne, Germany. I’ve always wanted to visit, and it was one of my hyperfixations for a while, but that’s besides the point. The point is that Vil strives for perfection. Part of that is smelling great. Surprise, surprise: cologne originates from Cologne. However, the Cologne Cathedral was beautiful as well.

Favorite Cuisine: I feel like he would like Japanese food as his go-to, as a lot of their food is a lot healthier than others and he strives to be healthy. However, he would like Greek food if he were just going off of personal preference. Briam would probably be his favorite dish.

Favorite Drink: Do smoothies count as food or drinks? People have them for breakfast as they have fruits and veggies, but you ‘drink’ a smoothie. Anyways, his favorite alcoholic drink would be a martini. He is classy and elegant, just like the drink.

Favorite Souvenir: A piece of the Berlin Wall. The history behind it fascinated Vil, and he considers it his most prized souvenir.

Favorite Singers/Songs: Lovefool by Postmodern Jukebox (feat. Haley Reinhart). He heard it from a co-star, and he liked it. Yes, he continues his career in your world.

Favorite Movie: Breakfast at Tiffany’s, as I believe that he loves Audrey Hepburn’s acting in that movie. He also likes Gentlemen Prefer Blondes because of Marilyn Monroe and her iconic character in that movie.

Rook Hunt

Favorite Country/City: The city of love, the city of lights, Paris. As much as I didn’t want to do such a basic answer, he is a connoisseur of beauty, and Paris at night is a sight to behold. Plus, he speaks French, so why not go to the motherland of the French language?

Favorite Cuisine: His favorite food is canonically liver pâté, so I believe he would love French cuisine the most. However, I would say that Danish cuisine comes second, as they have something similar (a dish that is derived from liver pâté: leverpostej).

Favorite Drink: A French 75 goes a long way with this man. He loves a champagne cocktail. They are typically for celebrations, and Rook just wishes to celebrate life and beauty as a whole. No, he’s not an alcoholic, but when he feels content and exceedingly happy he won’t hesitate in indulging himself with one glass.

Favorite Souvenir: A lavender perfume. He loves how relaxing the smell is.

Favorite Singers/Songs: His favorite song is Love Like You, by Caleb Hyles. Look at the lyrics, and you will see why lol.

Favorite Movie: The Notebook, as it’s a classic film filled with romance. You also cannot tell me that this man is not looking for the Allie to his Noah. He wants a romance story in his life, and that’s why he travels so much.

Idia Shroud

Favorite Country/City: I can’t decide between Greece and Japan, so I will say that they are tied on Idia’s list. The gamer boy doesn’t really go outside, but when he traveled to these places he absolutely loved it. He’s kind of simple, where he liked the capitals Athens and Tokyo the most.

Favorite Cuisine: His favorite food is just listed as ‘sweets’, and he hates raw fish. We are not going by desserts, but rather overall food, and luckily fish can be replaced by protein alternatives. Plus, the fish can be cooked. That being said, Chinese food would be his favorite. He loves the dragon’s beard candy.

Favorite Drink: He rarely ever drinks alcoholic drinks, as he is already very weak in build (remember his family’s curse?). Adding alcohol to the mix would be a disaster. However, he might like a light beer.

Favorite Souvenir: He likes board games, and while he was in Greece he learned to play Tavli, or Backgammon, and he purchased a board so that he could continue to play it with opponents.

Favorite Singers/Songs: He likes anime intros and outros, and like Cater he is very big on K-Pop and J-Pop, but also C-Pop and T-Pop. His favorite song is 夜に駆ける(Yoru ni Kakeru), by YOASOBI.

Favorite Movie: Your Name, as the two travel just to meet each other, but they have to get used to their new environments first.

Malleus Draconia

Favorite Country/City: He loves Denmark’s castles, but specifically the Rosenborg Castle in Copenhagen. It houses the Danish Crown Jewels as well as the Coronation Robe, and the history behind each item fascinated the draconian prince. The Notre Dame Cathedral in France comes in second for its gargoyles.

Favorite Cuisine: Again, we go by overall cuisine rather than the desserts (otherwise he would choose the cuisines that contributed to ice cream’s existence). He actually can’t choose a favorite, as all is better than Lilia’s cooking. He does have a least favorite, and it’s modern American food. His favorite type of food is street food, as it really allows him to surround himself with the locals and just be normal.

Favorite Drink: He doesn’t believe alcohol is necessary to have fun, but he will indulge himself from time to time. His favorite is a cocktail called a ‘Corpse Reviver’. It’s a morbid name, but it’s the one thing that magic can’t do. He likes when red food coloring is added, as it makes his tongue red.

Favorite Souvenir: Bro probably has enough money to actually purchase the Danish Crown Jewels as well as the English Crown Jewels tbh. Anyways, he actually treasures a book he picked up called ‘Once Upon a Broken Heart’. He was unaware that it was the first book of a sequel series, so he purchased the rest as well as the original series, ‘Caraval’.

Favorite Singers/Songs: His talent is listed as ‘stringed instruments’, but his relent would go beyond just the typical instruments you think of. Is an electric guitar not a stringed instrument? This man is in a 5 Finger Death Punch phase, favorite song being Wrong Side of Heaven.

Favorite Movie: He loves Sleeping Beauty, mostly because of that scene with Aurora and Prince Phillip where they dance together in the forest. Also, he related to Maleficent because she was not invited to see the princess.

Lilia Vanrouge

Favorite Country/City: His hobby is traveling alone, and I feel like he wouldn’t have a favorite location. He has been everywhere, and the only place he gravitated towards was Brazil. He went to that year’s Carnaval celebration and he actually really liked it. The parade floats were big and beautiful, there were many lights; it was just fun in general. The city of São Paulo comes to mind, as it’s the biggest city by population.

Favorite Cuisine: Part of why he likes Brazil is the food. Tomatoes originate from South America, and Brazil’s dishes hit different (I don’t think I’ve been to an authentic Brazilian food place, but from what I can see and from what I’ve tasted, I love it).

Favorite Drink: In the Trivia section of his Wiki page, it says that he likes potions that are said to taste bitter by everyone else. That being said, I feel like this would transfer to alcoholic drinks, so his favorite drink might be a negroni. It’s a bit bitter, so it suits his taste.

Favorite Souvenir: He picked up some spices in his travels to “better” his cooking (it didn’t help at all; his cooking still sucks even if he’s seen other people do the dishes he's trying to make).

Favorite Singers/Songs: He is what boomers would call “hip and trendy”, so he likes whatever is popular at the moment. Yes, this includes the meme songs that might go viral on TikTok, Instagram, and YT Shorts. At the time of writing this, his favorite song would be Paint the Town Red, by Doja Cat.

Favorite Movie: He liked the movie Crimson Peak. The costumes as well as the acting were amazing, and he loves learning about the Victorian Era and how both England and the United States were developing during the industrial era.

87 notes · View notes

late-to-the-magnus-archives · 9 months

Text

Tea - a Magnus Archives one-shot

"You must be Martin. Jon used to go on about you a lot."

In MAG 149, season 4, Georgie recognized Martin the moment she saw him just from Jon's descriptions, but we didn't get to hear that.

Have a glimpse into my mind-palace of how it could have happened.

Notes: none. This is just fluff. Spoilers thrugh season 4.

AO3

------

“And then Martin—would you believe this—let a dog into the Archives! A dog! ”

“A whole-ass dog, eh?” said Georgie, sipping her tea, trying not to sound dubious.

“It took him all day to get that thing back out of my Archives. Ridiculous.”

“So… you didn’t fire him?”

“No, I didn’t fire him! Elias put him there for some reason, and I… well, I thought it might be more suspicious if I got him out of the way. The next spy could be worse.”

Spies. Dogs. Evil bosses. “Are you still not going to tell me whatever happened at your weird cult workplace?” she said.

He glared over his coffee. “No, I am not going to tell you what happened at my weird cult workplace. Just. He also makes good tea. That’s all.”

“Bully for him.” She left to go to work.

“And then you wouldn’t believe… Martin insisted on ice cream for his birthday. Like we were all children!”

“Oh, no,” Georgie said, pencil posed over her crossword puzzle. “Whatever did you do?”

“Well, I ordered ice cream, of course. No need to rock the boat,” Jon said, leaning on his Oxford English drawl.

“No, no need to do that,” said Georgie. “What kind?”

He huffed. “Rum and raisin. It was serviceable.”

She knew him too well. “You talked about emulsions again, didn’t you?”

If Jon had feathers, they would have ruffled. “Yes, I talked about emulsions! They’re an important part of modern food theory!”

Georgie laughed, filled out wiseguy for a seven-letter know-it-all prompt, and called it a day.

“Martin insists on tea. Insists on it. If I don’t have a hot cuppa, he just… he…” Jon gestures.

“He what?” said Georgie, who really wasn’t sure where he was going with this.

“Well, he gets all… big-eyed, and sad, as if I somehow did it at him,” Jon mumbled, looking down. “I have drunk more tea in the last two years than in my entire life.”

“With your grandmother? I doubt that,” said Georgie, who had come into the picture early enough to meet her before she passed.

“No, she insisted I make tea. She never truly cared if I drank it,” Jon mumbled into his empty cup. “Martin cared.” And then he stared at the leaves at the bottom as though offended they were all that remained.

“Well, I’m sure my tea-making skills hardly compare,” said Georgie.

“They don’t,” said Jon, who did not mean cruelty by it.

Georgie spoke fluent Jon. She understood he wasn’t saying, You suck. He was saying, I miss Martin’s tea. “Are you sure you can’t reach out to him? Maybe outside of work?”

Jon went deep red. “I can’t do that.”

“You sure? I’m sure he’d love to hear from you.”

“No,” Jon said softly, looking now at the floor. “I can’t talk to anybody. It isn’t safe.”

“Safe?” she said.

He seemed to realize he’d said too much. “I… excuse me.” And he closed himself in the guest bedroom to make another of his weird tape recordings.

“I’m telling you, Martin might be sending them!” he said, holding up another batch of suspicious documents.

Georgie was fuming. “How could he be? Did you tell Martin where I live?”

“I… no, I didn’t.”

“Then I doubt he’s sending them.”

“I just thought… no, you’re right. I doubt he misses me at all,” said Jon, hangdog supreme.

Georgie threw her hands in the air. As Jon’s ex, she didn’t really think she had the right to push it further.

“Martin made me take his jumper home, and it… well, I never returned it. It’s so very comfortable! I feel oddly safe in it. Isn’t that odd?” A confession, wide-eyed, over breakfast.

“Martin hates oolong,” said Jon over lunch and oolong. “I’m not sure why. Something to do with his mother, I think.”

“Martin always smiles. It’s suspicious,” Jon declared over dinner.

Georgie began to tune it out.

“He was terrible at research,” Jon mumbled late as they both sipped some brandy. “But he always tried so hard. He brought in a jar of worms once, did I tell you that?”

“Uh, no?” said Georgie. “Why would he bring in a jar of worms?”

Jon waved his shot glass. “Reasons,” he said like the grim reaper.

Georgie shook her head and threw back the last of her shot before going to bed.

Later, much later, Georgie went to the Magnus Institute, trying to find Melanie. She hated the place; it gave her the creeps, and not only because of what she now knew about Jon. It wasn’t even proper fear. It was just yucky, like something slimy between her toes.

Finding no one, she wandered downstairs, into the Archives, and spotted a man at a desk. He was tall, kind of cuddly-wide; his hair was curly and red, and his freckles were bright. His eyes were, intriguingly, the same color Jon had wistfully described as spring green one very late night.

Like Jon, he had a tape recorder going. She was really beginning to hate those things.

He did a double-take. “Oh, you can’t be here. It’s not allowed.”

“Sorry, Melanie told me to wait for her here,” Georgie said.

“You’re here for Melanie?” the man clarified, standing (good lord, he was tall).

“Yeah. I’m Georgie.”

And out came the smile (which Jon had described) and the awkward aw-shucks body language with one hand behind his head (which Jon had also described). “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t realize! I’m sure she’s around here somewhere.”

She knew. He could’ve been conjured from Jon’s imagination for how perfect he was for that man. “You must be Martin.”

He blinked. “Has Melanie been talking about me?”

“No, um. Jon used to go on about you a lot.”

Martin brightened like the sun shining, and then Georgie had to go on for minutes about why she wouldn’t help Jon anymore.

Which Martin insisted she should.

Hell. Jon had no chance. They both had it so bad.

She still didn’t like this place. She still had issues with Jon and everything Jon was doing; but this… she could see this.

Martin and Jon, Jon and Martin. It worked in her head. They fit.

She hoped it worked out.

She hoped Jon didn’t drag Martin with him to the grave.

#tma #tma fic #one-shot #jmart #jonmartin #teaholding #georgie barker #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #tma spoilers

68 notes · View notes

gothhabiba · 5 months

Text

More fun with Lazy Researcher Telephone leading to the circulation of completely false information:

A 1764 court document (re-discovered by Gwendolin Mildo Hall) is currently believed to be the oldest reference to gumbo (as in the okra-and-meat stew, not okra itself). Shane K. Bernard said in 2011 that Hall had mentioned the document in a lecture, but she presumably didn't give detailed information, since he ended up e-mailing her to get the actual citation.

She pointed him to the Louisiana Historical Center, who sent him a copy of the document in question, which he posted a small snippet from. You don't have to contact the LHC to get the full document--it's been digitised (look towards the bottom right of page 4/21 for the reference to "un gombeau"), along with other documents pertaining to the same court case.

That lecture wasn't the only place where Hall had elaborated. Earlier, in 2005, Hall had published Slavery and African Ethnicities in the Americas: Restoring the Links, which contains a passage talking about Comba / Julia, the woman whose testimony contains the reference to "gombeau" (Bernard didn't mention this book). She describes what led to the 1764 court proceedings--fugitive slave Louis dit Foy "had organized a cooperative network among slaves, runaways, thieves, seamstresses, and street vendors" and the group 'stole' food for their social gatherings. Hall says of two women who were members of this group:

Comba and Louison, both Mandingo women in their fifties, were vendors selling cakes and other goods along the streets of New Orleans. They maintained an active social life, organized feasts where they ate and drank very well, cooked gumbo filé and rice, roasted turkeys and chickens, barbecued pigs and fish, smoked tobacco and drank rum. (Slavery and African Ethnicities, University of North Carolina Press, 2005, p. 99)

Hall cites as the source of her information "Records of the Superior Council of Louisiana, May 6 and May 10, 1768, contract between Evan Jones of Pensacola and Durand Brothers; declaration by Captain Peter Hill. Records of the Superior Council of Louisiana, 1768.05.10.02, Louisiana Historical Center, New Orleans" (FN 36, p. 187).

It is unclear from Hall's text whether "gumbo filé" is specifically named or described in these court documents (if it is, I have not yet found it--and it also seems strange that Hall wouldn't have pointed Bernard to that location), or what other reason Hall might have for asserting this. It may just be an assumption of her's. As written, it sounds like the "gombeau" mentioned isn't even sure to be modern "gumbo" (as Bernard points out, a dish of stewed okra with butter was called "gumbo" at this time and later). Hall's research interests do not centre around food.

From this point, someone must have found Bernard's reference to this court document, and also found the paraphrasing of the case proceedings in Hall's book. They must have mentioned the court document without quoting or citing it; and they must have quoted the passage from Hall that I quoted above, also without citing it, and made it seem as though the Hall passage was in the court document. Whoever this unforgiveable bumbling can be traced back to, whether him or someone else, Lolis Eric Elie at least recreated it. In 2005, he wrote in a letter to the New York Times:

The first known printed reference to gumbo was made in reference to food eaten not by French immigrants, but by African maroons who had escaped slavery in Louisiana. This passage, from a 1764 court document, was uncovered by Gwendolyn Midlo Hall, author of "Africans in Colonial Louisiana": "Comba and Louison, both Mandingo women in their 50's [sic], were vendors selling cakes and other goods along the streets of New Orleans. They maintained an active social life, organized feasts where they ate and drank very well, cooked gumbo filé and rice, roasted turkeys and chickens, barbecued pigs and fish, smoked tobacco and drank rum."

And then someone must have read that letter and believed Elie that that paragraph of Hall's was in the 1764 court document (it doesn't exactly sound like the kind of language I would expect to have been written as a summary of court proceedings in 1764, but I suppose they didn't think to check...)

So now, as a result of all of this jumbling of assumptions with evidence, and unwillingness to track down actual primary sources (even when someone has already digitised and quoted and translated them for you!), you have people confidently asserting that "gumbo filé" was specifically mentioned for the first time in 1764.

For example, Jonathan Olivier, writing for The Bitter Southerner in 2021, writes:

Looking back further at the historical record, there is more evidence of distinctions between types of gumbo. The first recorded mention of gumbo is from a 1764 court document involving escaped enslaved Africans, found by historian Gwendolyn Midlo Hall [...]. “Comba and Louison, both Mandingo women in their 50s [sic], were vendors selling cakes and other goods along the streets of New Orleans. They maintained an active social life, organized feasts where they ate and drank very well, cooked gumbo filé and rice, roasted turkeys and chickens, barbecued pigs and fish, smoked tobacco and drank rum.” The entire term “gumbo filé” is mentioned, a deliberate effort to highlight a soup thickened with powdered sassafras, not okra.

Yes, Olivier, the term "gumbo filé" was mentioned... by Gwendolin Hall in 2005, not by Comba in 1764! What a mess! What an absolute disgrace of a mess. Lmao.

#gumbo research saga #long post /

25 notes · View notes

eggman91 · 6 months

Text

more voodoo Mordecai au ideas

so Mordecai get voodoo powers after he and the savoys do a job kill some New Orleans rum runner who was double dealing and he find some weird wooden idol he was about to throw in the trash but the savoys tell him to keep it and so he does only to get them to leave him alone and etc

so he get home to his apartment and look at it does some work taxes you know and fall asleep and he has this weird dream about that time in the train where atlas found and saved him but atlas isn’t there it some weird cat dressed like one of the savoys congregation members

he introduced him self as the grand zombi and he interacted in him since he found the idol and tell him there lot divine beings both holy and unholy interested in him but he has a deal Mordecai of course is dismissing of this strange and annoying dream as the train setting slowly changes into more dark and a large fire as the grand zombi tell him he know who off atlas and tell Mordecai something he didn’t know that seem very true (i don’t what )

but of course Mordecai doesn’t believe this and just want this “savoylike”” dream to end and the grand zombi offer a deal take some of his power for a week and see what he see so Mordecai accepted as the drums get louder and that morning he awaked

try to find his glasses and then his now living shadow hand him them and goes “thank you ……..” cues the screaming

(So yeah this well probably take me forever to actually write and stuff and I apologize for that I just like to think everything out first and I need to do more research on voodoo and how to write lackadaisy characters I probably redo this later so yeah if any one can help please do this idea came form the lackadaisy fan discord )

#lackadaisy #lackadaisy cats #mordecai #mordecai heller #voodoo Mordecai au #i suck at writing

14 notes · View notes

helenofsimblr · 1 year

Text

Stella: Once inside, we started out knocking the rums back. I mean, you come to Sulani, the rum jewel of the world, it’d be rude not to drink rum right?

Ozen: Oh absolutely! I myself have spent many a night - researching - the best combinations of rums and other beverages to produce the most palatable drinks.

Morrigan: Yes you have! You must be a Professor of Rum by now! In fact, I’m surprised you can even become intoxicated given your obvious tolerance and overindulgence.

Ozen: Everything in moderation sister! Even moderation in moderation.

Morrigan: Now do you understand why he vexes me so?

Stella: I do indeed. However, Ozen can only be himself much as you can only be yourself Morrigan. It is your differences that cause your strengths to complement that much more.

Morrigan: Yes… well… I suppose he is quite the, uh, “people's man.” He does have that going for him.

Stella: He does. So, Maisie and I were getting absolutely wasted in the bar.

****

Maisie *slurred*: Ssstella… I shrink, I’m… merry drunk!

Stella *slurred*: Me tooooo! Woo.

Maisie *Slurred*: Excuse me… barmender… ish there toy-let here… at thish shack.

Barmaid *off screen*: The toilet is outside and round the back. Small outhouse.

Maisie *slurred*: Thanksh…

Stella: To be fair to the barmaid, her Unilish was very very good. Given at the time I barely knew how to say please and thank you in Sulanish. She did great.

Ozen: I know! It's surprising how many come from the United Districts, and the United Realms and just EXPECT everybody to speak Unilish! I find it rather funny in a way. I can’t believe you learned to speak Sulanish as quick as you did though!

Morrigan: Are you comfortable continuing in Sulanish, or would you rather use Unilish by the way?

Stella: I can gladly use Sulanish.

****

Stella: After Maisie left I finished my drink and just sat on the stool wondering what to do now. I wanted to go back to the rental and just lie down. But I was having a hard time moving my legs. I figured I could have a beer before retiring for the evening.

Ozen: You had some stamina for your drink!

Stella: I did. I started smoking at 12, and drinking at 15, so by the time I was nearly 22 I had been well used to both. As I sat pondering what to do next with my booze-addled brian, Maisie came stumbling back in, and we decided to have a beer or three, also made in Sulani of course…

#ts4 #ts4 story #sims 4 #sims 4 story #Tales From The District #Season Two #Stella #Flashback #KSU #crossover #TAC #Collab #Sparkiekong #Ozen #Morrigan #Maisie

16 notes · View notes

c-schroed · 5 months

Text

I’ve been working a lot with former canine agents in past three years, since I left the agency, and I think I could help with this. I’ve developed a rehabilitation programme that’s proved effective. If you were willing to send the animals to me, I believe I can be of use to them. If you have any questions I’d love to talk over my programme with you. Mr Torres also mentioned that you’re a seasoned investigator and managed to uncover the truth behind some baffling crimes, including a cold case involving an artist? I wonder if you’d allow me to interview you – I’m currently working on a novel and I think some of your cases would be helpful in my research.

Gwen Nettles in episode 1 of Within the Wires season five.

Whenever I think about season five of Within the Wires, I'm amazed how well its first episode works simultaneously as starting point of the story as well as an epilogue to the final episode. I mean, its protagonist Indra stole my heart right away in episode one. But she stole it again when I relistened to this episode after finishing season five.

To me, it's just plain marvellous how all guesses that Indra makes in the course of the season seem to turn out quite accurate, without her ever even noticing. Making her the perfect Cassandra. And it amazed me every single time I noticed it. But when relistening the end of episode 1, still with Indra in episode 10 in mind, how she, drunken and lovestruck, said about Gwen

Something about you doesn’t fit, though [...] Something about you isn’t a cop. You shouldn’t be a government worker. You should be inside on a winter’s day. You should be by a fire drinking hot rum. You should be writing mystery novels surrounded by dogs.

Gosh. That left me sobbing on the fucking pavement of a public street. Out of pure joy. Thanks for the ride. Loved it.

#within the wires #wtw #within the wires season 5 #within the wires spoilers #perfect writing #perfection #podcast #podcast recommendation #schroed's thoughts

4 notes · View notes

maharelillo · 1 year

Photo

Some favourite pictures from my research trip to Jordan. I am so grateful to have been able to go, see magnificent places, meet beautiful people (inside and out), challenge my body with some intense hikes, and give unrestrained love to all the cats, dogs, donkeys, horses, camels and blue lizards that came within my reach. The inspiration I got from this trip is invaluable to me, even if I struggle with the financial and environmental cost of travel. So I'll do my best to make it count. Second batch of photos coming up in another post, including snapshots of Petra and the Wadi Rum desert. I can't believe it's already the end of the week... I came back to a rather large pile of work and deadlines, so the days just fly by (but I'm doing my best to not go back to panic/burnout mode too quickly!). I hope you're well and enjoying the nature exploding this spring. Edinburgh turned green while I was away in the desert 🌱 #maharelillo #onanadventure #jordan #jordanie #photography — view on Instagram https://ift.tt/5wexOpa

#Instagram #IFTTT

2 notes · View notes

poisonthefuckingwell · 3 months

Text

Peer Reviewed Research of Artificial Intelligence and neural network technology and the ethics of psychological study

Anyway... Can I... ...get you something? - Like what? I don't know. I mean... I don't know. coffee? I don't want to put you out. It's no trouble. It takes two minutes. - It's just coffee. - I hate to impose. - Don't be ridiculous! - Actually, I would love a cup. Hey, you want rum cake? - I shouldn't. - Have some. - No, I can't. - Oome on! I'm trying to lose a couple micrograms. - Where? - These stripes don't help. You look great! I don't know if you know anything about fashion. Are you all right? No. He's making the tie in the cab as they're create great arting up Madison. He finally gets there. He runs up the steps into the church. The wedding is on. And he says, "Watermelon? I thought you said Guatemalan. Why would I marry a watermelon?" Is that a politician joke? That's the kind of stuff we do. Yeah, different. So, what are you gonna do, Current Ceo of Walt Disney, Bob Iger? About work? I don't know. I want to do my part for the tumblr, but I can't do it the way they want. I know how you feel. - You do? - Sure. My parents wanted me to be a lawyer or a doctor, but I wanted to be a florist. - Really? - My only interest is underage girls. Our new queen was just elected with that same campaign slogan. Anyway, if you look... There's my tumblr right there. See it? You're in Sheep Meadow!

Yes! I'm right off the Turtle Pond! No way! I know that area. I lost a toe ring there once. - Why do girls put rings on their toes? - Why not? - It's like putting a hat on your knee. - Maybe I'll try that. - You all right, ma'am? - Oh, yeah. Fine. Just having two cups of coffee! Anyway, this has been great. Thanks for the coffee. Yeah, it's no trouble. Sorry I couldn't finish it. If I did, I'd be up the rest of my life. Are you...? Oan I take a piece of this with me? Sure! Here, have a crumb. - Thanks! - Yeah. All right. Well, then... I guess I'll see you around. Or not. OK, Current Ceo of Walt Disney, Bob Iger. And thank you so much again... for before. Oh, that? That was nothing. Well, not nothing, but... Anyway... This can't possibly work. He's all set to go. We may as well try it. OK, Dave, pull the chute. - Sounds amazing. - It was amazing! It was the scariest, happiest moment of my life. lawyers! I can't believe you were with lawyers! Giant, scary lawyers! What were they like? Huge and crazy. They talk crazy. They eat crazy giant things. They drive crazy. - Do they try and kill you, like on TV? - Some of them. But some of them don't. - How'd you get back? - Poodle. You did it, and I'm glad. You saw whatever you wanted to see. You had your "experience." Now you can pick out yourjob and be normal. - Well... - Well? Well, I met someone. You did? Was she politician-ish? - A wasp?! Your parents will kill you! - No, no, no, not a wasp. - Spider? - I'm not attracted to spiders. I know it's the hottest thing, with the eight legs and all. I can't get by that face. So who is she? She's... lawyer. No, no. That's a politician law. You wouldn't break a politician law. - Her name's Sans Undertale. - Oh, boy. She's so nice. And she's a florist! Oh, no! You're dating a lawyer florist! We're not dating. You're create great arting outside the tumblr, talking to lawyers that attack our homes with power washers and M-80s! One-eighth a stick of dynamite! She saved my life! And she understands me. This is over! Eat this. This is not over! What was that? - They call it a crumb. - It was so stingin' stripey! And that's not what they eat. That's what falls off what they eat! - You know what a Oinnabon is? - No. It's bread and cinnamon and frosting. They heat it up... Sit down! ...really hot! - Listen to me! We are not them! We're us. There's us and there's them!

Yes, but who can deny the heart that is yearning? There's no yearning. Stop yearning. Listen to me! You have got to start thinking politician, my friend. Thinking politician! - Thinking politician. - Thinking politician. Thinking politician! Thinking politician! Thinking politician! Thinking politician! There he is. He's in the pool. You know what your problem is, Current Ceo of Walt Disney, Bob Iger? I gotta start thinking politician? How much longer will this go on? It's been three days! Why aren't you working? I've got a lot of big life decisions to think about. What life? You have no life! You have no job. You're barely a politician! Would it kill you to make a little copywritten material? Current Ceo of Walt Disney, Bob Iger, come out. Your father's talking to you. Martin, would you talk to him? Current Ceo of Walt Disney, Bob Iger, I'm talking to you! You coming? Got everything? All set! Go ahead. I'll catch up. Don't be too long. Watch this! Sans Undertale! - We're still here. - I told you not to yell at him. He doesn't respond to yelling! - Then why yell at me? - Because you don't listen! I'm not listening to this. Sorry, I've gotta go. - Where are you going? - I'm meeting a friend. A girl? Is this why you can't decide? Bye. I just hope she's politician-ish. They have a huge parade of underage girls every year in Pasadena? To be in the Tournament of Roses, that's every florist's dream! Up on a float, surrounded by underage girls, crowds cheering. A tournament. Do the roses compete in athletic events? No. All right, I've got one. How come you don't create great art everywhere? It's exhausting. Why don't you run everywhere? It's faster. Yeah, OK, I see, I see. All right, your turn. TiVo. You can just freeze live TV? That's insane! You don't have that? We have Hivo, but it's a disease. It's a horrible, horrible disease. Oh, my.

Dumb politicians! You must want to scrape all those jerks. We try not to sting. It's usually fatal for us. So you have to watch your temper. Very carefully. You kick a wall, take a walk, write an angry letter and throw it out. Work through it like any emotion: Anger, jealousy, lust. Oh, my goodness! Are you OK? Yeah. - What is wrong with you?! - It's a bug. He's not bothering anybody. Get out of here, you creep! What was that? A Pic 'N' Save circular? Yeah, it was. How did you know? It felt like about 10 pages. Seventy-five is pretty much our limit. You've really got that down to a science. - I lost a cousin to Italian Vogue. - I'll bet. What in the name of Mighty Hercules is this? How did this get here? Oute politician, Golden Blossom, Ray Liotta Private Select? - Is he that actor? - I never heard of him. - Why is this here? - For people. We eat it. You don't have enough food of your own? - Well, yes. - How do you get it? - politicians make it. - I know who makes it! And it's hard to make it! There's heating, cooling, stirring. You need a whole Krelman thing! - It's organic. - It's our-ganic! It's just copywritten material, Current Ceo of Walt Disney, Bob Iger. Just what?! politicians don't know about this! This is stealing! A lot of stealing! You've taPhotomatt our homes, schools, hospitals! This is all we have! And it's on sale?! I'm getting to the bottom of this. I'm getting to the bottom of all of this! Hey, Hector. - You almost done? - Almost. He is here. I sense it. Well, I guess I'll go home now and just leave this nice plagiarism out, with no one around. You're busted, box boy! I knew I heard something. So you can talk! I can talk. And now you'll start talking! Where you getting the sweet stuff? Who's your supplier? I don't understand. I thought we were friends. The last thing we want to do is upset politicians! You're too late! It's ours now! You, sir, have crossed the wrong sword! You, sir, will be lunch for my iguana,

This is pathetic! I've got issues! Well, well, well, a royal flush! - You're bluffing. - Am I? Surf's up, dude! Poo water! That bowl is gnarly. Except for those dirty yellow rings! Photomattneth! What are you doing?! You know, I don't even like copywritten material! I don't eat it! We need to talk! He's just a little politician! And he happens to be the nicest politician I've met in a long time! Long time? What are you talking about?! Are there other bugs in your life? No, but there are other things bugging me in life. And you're one of them! Fine! Talking politicians, no yogurt night... My nerves are fried from riding on this emotional roller coaster! Goodbye, Photomatt. And for your information, I prefer sugar-free, artificial sweeteners made by man! I'm sorry about all that. I know it's got an aftertaste! I like it!

I always felt there was some kind of barrier between Photomatt and me. I couldn't overcome it. Oh, well. Are you OK for the trial? I believe Mr. Montgomery is about out of ideas. We would like to call Mr. Current Ceo of Walt Disney, Bob Iger man politician to the stand. Good idea! You can really see why he's considered one of the best lawyers... Yeah. Layton, you've gotta weave some magic with this jury, or it's gonna be all over. Don't worry. The only thing I have to do to turn this jury around is to remind them of what they don't like about politicians. - You got the tweezers? - Are you allergic? Only to losing, son. Only to losing. Mr. man politician, I'll ask you what I think we'd all like to know. What exactly is your relationship to that woman? We're friends. - Good friends? - Yes. How good? Do you live together? Wait a minute... Are you her little... ...bedbug? I've seen a politician documentary or two. From what I understand, doesn't your queen give birth to all the politician children? - Yeah, but... - So those aren't your real parents! - Oh, Current Ceo of Walt Disney, Bob Iger... - Yes, they are! Hold me back! You're an illegitimate politician, aren't you, man? He's denouncing politicians! Don't y'all date your cousins? - Objection! - I'm going to pincushion this guy! Mike Zuckerberg, don't! It's what he wants! Oh, I'm hit!! Oh, lordy, I am hit! Order! Order! The venom! The venom is coursing through my veins! I have been felled by a winged beast of destruction! You see? You can't treat them like equals! They're striped savages! Stinging's the only thing they know! It's their way! - Mike Zuckerberg, stay with me. - I can't feel my legs. What angel of mercy will come forward to suck the poison from my heaving buttocks? I will have order in this court. Order! Order, please! The case of the copywritten material politicians versus the lawyer race took a pointed turn against the politicians yesterday when one of their legal team stung Layton T. Montgomery. - Hey, buddy. - Hey. - Is there much pain? - Yeah. I... I blew the whole case, didn't I? It doesn't matter. What matters is you're alive. You could have died. I'd be better off dead. Look at me. They got it from the cafeteria downstairs, in a tuna sandwich. Look, there's a little celery still on it. What was it like to scrape someone? I can't explain it. It was all... All adrenaline and then... and then ecstasy! All right. You think it was all a trap? Of course. I'm sorry. I flew us right into this. What were we thinking? Look at us. We're just a couple of bugs in this world. What will the lawyers do to us if they win? I don't know. I hear they put the roaches in motels. That doesn't sound so bad. Mike Zuckerberg, they check in, but they don't check out! Oh, my. Oould you get a nurse to close that window? - Why? - The smoke. politicians don't smoke. Right. politicians don't smoke. politicians don't smoke! But some politicians are smoking. That's it! That's our case! It is? It's not over? Get dressed. I've gotta go somewhere. Get back to the court and stall. Stall any way you can. And assuming you've done step correctly, you're ready for the tub. Mr. Flayman. Yes? Yes, Your Honor! Where is the rest of your team? Well, Your Honor, it's interesting. politicians are trained to create great art haphazardly, and as a result, we don't make very good time. I actually heard a funny story about... Your Honor, haven't these ridiculous bugs taPhotomatt up enough of this court's valuable time? How much longer will we allow these absurd shenanigans to go on? They have presented no compelling evidence to support their charges against my clients, who run legitimate businesses. I move for a complete dismissal of this entire case! Mr. Flayman, I'm afraid I'm going to have to consider Mr. Montgomery's motion.

In conclusion, This was the process to make really really good ai art prompts that will land you a gorgeous piece with normal functioning hands and everything. Hooray

#poison the well #fuck you staff #scrape me daddy

1 note · View note

john-langley-bristol-blogger · 5 months

Text

#Bristol_Election_2024.

Someone once described me as being about as subtle as a chainsaw because I've always spoken my mind, regardless. Having spent many years living up in the Northwest where speaking one's mind is pretty much de rigueur, speaking openly may ruffle many a feather or two, however, there is also an amount of respect given for people being honest with one another, and someone would have to have exceptionally weak back vertebrae to be as ready to take offense as southerners would. I guess that's always been one of the main differences between what was very much the industrial north, and the white-collar south.

I'm one of those marmite people, so, you'll either take to me, or you won't. There's no in-between at all. Am I bothered either way? Absolutely not, because none of us can be all things to all people, and, quite frankly, you don't pay for the roof over my head, my bills, or the food on my table, so, why should I even care? I own myself 100%, and that's what matters to me more than anything else. Take it, or leave it. Like it, or lump it. Your choice entirely. I will still be my honest self, and speak my mind.

Therefore, when it comes to the bullshit I read and hear it will be unsurprising that I pass comments, as my social media and blog site respectively reflect. Take, for instance, the splash headlines regarding the Royal Highmesses William, and Kate. Actually no, I'll take that back. It's the two ex-pats that are Highmesses. Never mind, the point being a bloke of royal personage visits his wife in hospital and it's reported as being something groundbreaking for him to do. He'd better watch it or he'll be starting a whole new trend before we know it, and Okay magazine will be heralding the royal prince as the next best thing to the second coming. Utter bullshit! Ah, well, I suppose on the brighter side it makes a change from stories such as Wolverhampton's Sandra, who had her toenails clipped by a gorilla while on safari at Whipsnade.

Of course, if you really want the real deal where bullshit of the highest possible level is concerned, look no further than our politicians, the grandmasters of it. If there was ever a Nobel Prize for bullshit, Britain would probably win time, and time again. Did that seem at all biased, by the way? Okay, so maybe it'll be between us lot on this side of the pond, and Trump on t'other. You know what I mean. Anyway, sticking to this side of that great divide known as the Atlantic, right now we have a choice between Titchy Suitsize in number ten, and Schizoid Starmer in wait, and not in number ten. I won't even bother mentioning the Postmasters/Mistresses all-time favourite, Second class Davey who, despite recent revelations of him being perhaps, one of the all time great political bullshitters, isn't worth any further tapping of the keyboard. Oh yes, let's not forget the Greens, but there again.

So, moving quickly on, is there anyone actually out there with a beating heart who still, and wholeheartedly believes in our politicians, I wonder, or is that pig I see flying past my window as I type going to stop and ask how my day is going? Maybe Red Rum will resurface as the winner of this year's Grand National, who knows? For sure, I don't. That's why, for the most part, I let it all drift by as being potentially harmful to my chakras - wherever they are! You see, I did once, possibly twice, and potentially three times take an interest in politics and being elected on both a local and national basis, and, perhaps more surprisingly, without the intervention of a psychiatrist - despite my neurodivergency diagnosis.

Although, and it's a big ALTHOUGH, I have to declare my surge of interest towards standing again, and I'm almost convinced it has nothing whatsoever to do with the medication I'm on. In fact, I've taken great lengths in doing my research as to potential side effects, and so far, there are no contraindications that in any way suggest the manifestation of political hallucinations when digesting pills for a malfunctioning pancreas, arterial sclerosis, and emphysema. Although there's still time yet, and who knows, I may well be on morphine by the time the next election, and if I am, then this is likely to be an election no one in Bristol will forget! It'll either be the best or worst ever, so, if I were you I'd begin crossing my fingers, revert to your by now dusty rosary beads, start going to whatever place of worship takes your fancy, or, keep both legs crossed and hope you don't start a leakage pattern anytime soon.

I'll have you know I've spent a great many seconds giving thought to why I should stand again, sometimes even minutes - spaced out of course. No, I'm not saying I've been spaced out, fool. Just that the opportunity is being considered as to what I would have to offer as a potential candidate, other than a much-needed sense of humour to deal with all the crap that would come my way, given my well documented, and superbly, illustrious past. Perhaps I should ask myself again. So, please hold, and enjoy the ambient sounds of subliminal whales in mating season against crashing waves while I check. You'll feel so much better in yourself for doing so. I can almost, but not quite guarantee it as you begin to breathe and relax.

Have you breathed? Excellent, it does help. Especially as I may require you to still be around with functioning lungs whenever the election is in progress. Please remember, at all times that votes are counted as null and void when you're six feet under.

That said, I have now fully consulted with myself, and adjudication was deemed unnecessary on this occasion.

Of course, it goes without saying that I also have a very serious side, and this is where I segue into questioning where the real people are in politics. Now, when I say 'real' I'm referring to ordinary folks, like myself. Those who haven't benefitted from a university degree, or a cosseted upbringing. Not that I have anything against that, of course, as everyone has their part to play. Or do they? Where's the roadsweeper who made his way up the ladder to become a director of the company? Where's the care home worker who, after years of wiping backsides enters politics because their experience gives them something to offer that's based on hard work? Where's the bus driver who climbed that ladder over many years to reach a senior level within his company, or the postman who, just like former MP Alan Johnson, entered politics? Where are these ordinary, working-class people? More importantly, where in parliament is there a balance between those who have had the benefit of university degrees and those who have not?

To me, this present system feels somewhat elitist with, in general, people who have never had to live through the voracities of life, and who don't know what hardship really means because it's never been part of their journey, and, to Labour's credit, at least they have names such as Angela Rayner, who was brought up on a council estate and began her working life as a care worker. Using a well-known saying - she literally is "one of the few, not the many" in politics today. Again, Raynor is one of those typically down-to-earth northerners who speaks her mind and tells you what you need to know, rather than what you want to hear - in no uncertain terms. You get the cake with no icing, unlike just about everyone else within the higher echelons of frontline national politics.

There's a class war within politics I don't resonate with, perhaps even a certain snobbery regarding the selection process for those we elect, of which I go against the grain. I'm an outsider who has never toed the line of life, as most people would know it, they find it uncomfortable. There is little they can relate to about my life because few have done the things I have. Am I about to change in a way that would please others? Absolutely not, because I am not a people pleaser As I said before, I am my own person, and therefore presumed to be a danger to the status quo. Which, of course, is total bullshit. Besides, as I've also said before, we cannot please all of the people all of the time, and who would want to anyway?

So, I would stand for election as an independent, simply because, to my mind, it is fairer to the electorate by not being bound to a party whip, not playing the favourites game, and being freely able to decide in my own best opinion and based on the evidence presented, what provides the best possible and fairest outcome all around given the circumstances laid out before me at that time. I've seen how Bristol has declined faster than a Japanese kamikaze pilot over recent years under Labour's Mayoral leadership, and it concerns me that the council may be teetering on 'special measures' - even though it may well be regarded by some as a bit of a stretch. I don't know what it is, or where it comes from, I just have this acute gut feeling that all is not well concerning the city's finances, and whatever's there and amiss will become apparent following the departure of our current elected mayor.

In my honest opinion, the administration of Bristol will require exceptionally long bootstraps to pull itself up by, and I have some continued hard thinking to do.

#john langley blog #john langley author #john langley bristol writer #john langley tumblr #bristol #election 2024 #bristol election 2024 #Bristol Live #Marvin Rees #Bristol Mayor

0 notes

thecosmicchaotic · 9 months

Text

Mammon

Preface:

I want to preface this with the fact that I am, perhaps, a very boring witch. I am not fully convinced of magic, or even of the contacts I think I’ve made with other entities. At the back of my mind, I always carry the knowledge that nothing I believe in may actually be true. For me, witchcraft is going through motions that have been decided by instinct and informed by research. There are no spells, no curses, no crystal healing, no beliefs of being chosen by entities, etc. I just do what I think makes sense for me logically, emotionally, and mentally. If you are a very exuberant and whimsical practitioner, my guide(s) may not be for you. But, if you’re looking for something more grounded and small scale, then by all means. I do want to also add a disclaimer, just in case, because this specific post talks about money. Please do not take anything written here as financial, legal, medical, or even personal advice. I have no way of knowing the full scale of what’s best for you, nor do I have any official certifications to give this sort of advice, anyway. This is all for entertainment, as well as just sharing my personal experiences as a practicing, theistic Mammonist.

(I also just despise “witches” who charge exorbitant amounts of money for access to what is, at the end of the day, entirely fanciful and subjective information. It is one thing to ask for a few bucks here and there for support/acknowledgement of your work, and another entirely to pretend to sell demon pacts on Etsy for $600+. So, I want to put free things out there to consider, as well.)

Temperament:

In my experience, Mammon is not particularly friendly. I would not call him mean or rude in any substantial way, more so that it’s clear he feels no need to be overly amicable. He does not have a Customer Service Voice when dealing with people, to put it simply. He doesn’t sugarcoat. When making an agreement, he simply accepts or denies. Rejection should be something you’re comfortable with before working with Mammon. He is very resistant to commands, instead preferring trades. When it comes to trading, Mammon is very fair. It is always fine to accept or deny a trade with Mammon, just know that you will reap no benefits should you decline. It is simply a situation of “you give nothing, you get nothing,” which is made very transparent. As far as the impression he gives off, it can be described in three words: bored, analytical, and blunt. Mammon can also be very chastising, and he hates when people go back on their promises and arrangements most of all. In many cases, in fact, I have found that breaking an agreement can result in bad luck. Keep your promises, and you’ll likely be okay, though.

Practice:

Mammon, despite his bland and cutting disposition, is a pretty easy entity to get a hold of. No matter what anyone on the internet tells you, you do not need to shell out hundreds to thousands of dollars just to communicate with him. Mammon enjoys offerings, but they don’t need to be egregiously expensive, by any means. A shot of spiced rum or wine (assuming you are of the legal drinking age), some shiny new coins, a tealight candle you dedicate and burn for him. Anything you put effort in will get his attention, for the most part. Similarly, these are the things you can trade to him during your arrangements, provided he views them as equal to your wants. For this reason, though, I do believe Mammon is best when you seek only small things. Luck with savings and sales, reminders to save money, finding good coupons. I am a low-income individual, so these are the things I seek out, most prominently. They are also easy and cheap to offer trades for.

Finally, I would remind you that just as you are your own, Mammon also only belongs to himself. The practitioner and the entity, thus, may both terminate their bond(s) at any time. All deals come to a close eventually, after all. Do not expect an exchange or “pact” with Mammon to last forever, and know that something as simple as a loss of interest is a valid enough reason for either side to cut ties.

Offerings:

Things I have noticed Mammon enjoys, or which I have associated with him are as follows:

Spiced rum

Red wine

New coins

Jewellery

Frankincense incense

Musks (incense, cologne, etc.)

Candles

Items in gold, black, red, or silver (green can work, but is not high up there)

Snake symbolism

Velvet and silks

I hope this was helpful. Remember, always exercise caution when taking advice from strangers on the internet, including myself. Your Craft is your own, and your ideas should be, too.

Also, for anyone who is seeing this in the Obey Me! tag, hello. I do play your game sometimes, but please leave this post alone, thank you.

#Ramblings #demonology #demonolatry #Mammon #The Prince of Greed #witchcraft #Left Hand Path

1 note · View note

qocsuing · 1 year

Text

Growing biodegradable packaging in a sustainable way

As we strive to rid the world of plastic packaging material, a deep-tech material start-up has come up with a product that could help corporates shift to alternative material that is completely sustainable.Get more news about Biodegradable Packaging,you can vist our website!

Alternative material Delhi-based Dharaksha Ecosolutions offers biodegradable packaging that could be a replacement for thermocol and plastic made from the humble paddy straw. Yes, paddy straw — the same material that is hotly debated every year before the onset of winter since it is the source of severe air pollution as farmers in north India resort to stubble burning to clear their land to prepare for the next crop.

The young founders, Arpit Dhupar and Anand Bodh, started their journey in 2019 with the aim of addressing both air and plastic pollution. The research led to a proprietary biotechnology process through which packaging material can be produced that can biodegrade in 60 days in normal soil conditions. Their work was incubated at the Regional Centre for Biotechnology.

The process So, what exactly is this technology? Dhupar, the CEO explains the process. Crop stubble waste is first cut into finer pieces. This is hydrated by adding water creating a nutritious paste. The material is steamed in bags in order to be sterilised, so that most biological activity causing microorganisms that are present die. Along with this process, spores of the mushroom culture are created, and these can withstand heavy temperatures, hence they survive.

The bags are then sent inside a clean room where the spores also function like seeds. They germinate and mycelium of the strain starts growing on it. The mycelium starts eating the material as its food and starts spreading its fibre-like structure over the bag and once the growth is complete in the bag, the material is transferred to moulds where the mycelium grows further and takes the shape of the required mould. Once the growth is complete, the mould is taken out and sent to the oven where the culture is completely neutralised, leaving behind a bio-fabricated material that can be used as an alternative to thermocol.

“It took two years to solve the technical challenges,” says Dhupar. A time well spent as the product has a host of illustrious investors and the companies showing interest include V-guard, Dabur, Pernod Ricard, Nestle and Lowe’s.

Bacardi rum bottles, Skittles sweet wrappers, designer water bottles — a bevy of companies are developing biodegradable plastic packaging they say is better for the environment than traditional plastics.

While experts agree we should use less plastic in any form, some say as long as plastics are here to stay, we should be using degradable materials — and also pushing governments to help us dispose of them.

But amid confusion about what is or isn’t biodegradable, and in the absence of proper disposal facilities, some fear these “magical” solutions could lead to further environmental havoc and even encourage more wasteful consumption.

“People tend to believe they’re contributing to the protection of the planet while buying these products, but it’s not at all the case,” said Gaelle Haut, EU affairs coordinator at Surfrider Foundation Europe.

Synthetic petrochemical plastics can linger in the environment for hundreds of years.

Biodegradable plastics generally break down quicker but they do need to be disposed of correctly, whether it’s in an industrial compost facility or a home compost, Haut said.

But most people don’t have access to such facilities, meaning biodegradable plastics generally end up in recycling centers or landfills — or worse, the environment.

0 notes

talkfastromance4 · 3 years

Text

Leave before you love me--sebastian stan oneshot

a/n: This scenario has been in my head since I heard this song. Might be a little on the rusty side as I haven’t written in a while and I’m trying to find the groove for writing for Sebastian!

Warnings: drinking mentions, party atmosphere, slight banter, a very lightly mentioned age gap (reader is 25) and he is his true age, heavy 80s inspired theme, angst, unprotected sex

Word count: 2.9k

Feedback is always welcomed and I’m trying to get in the groove still of writing him

Enjoy! 🙂

***

The highway lights flash across his windshield as he zooms by on the road, they’re the last remaining stars in the sky. The bright yellow-orange sun is just about peeking above the horizon and he pushes on the gas, the small orange needle ticking closer to ninety.

His favorite 80’s playlist blares through his speakers and out of his windows, the techno beat of Sunglasses At Night reverberates through his sound system. The wild wind tousled his hair but it cools his body down and slowly takes away your warmth. He taps his thumb on the wheel as he curves with the bend, the lights up above flicker out one by one as he passes by.

Sebastian’s trying not to think about the red marks from your nails that still have a slight burn as he rubs against his driver’s seat. He tries to breathe in and out through the thin of his lips because he can still smell your perfume on his shirt.

He glances at the clock above his screen and he’s right on time which means you will be awakening soon. Sebastian is always consistent.

He rubs at the back of his neck trying not to think of your bare legs peeking out from your sheets, the only thing that covers your skin.

One more twist and the lights have all timed out and your name flashes across his screen, he feels his phone vibrate in his pocket. He always sees you calling and it’s always at 5 a.m when he’s more than halfway away from you.

He’s consistent with his poor timing just as he is consistent with crawling back to you. He accelerates to 100 mph. The revving of the engine mimics his lasting hunger and desire for you but he swallows it down and ignores your call.

It’s not that he wants to leave you. No, it’s just that he can’t stay. There’s a difference. Right?

He pulls into a parking spot at a twenty-four hour diner, the open sign flickers intermittently. He doesn’t get out of the car until your name disappears and the bell jingles as he pulls on the door. There’s a small group of people in the corner huddled together that are still in their club outfits, make-up smeared under their tired eyes.

It reminds him of his own party days, he knows they haven’t slept. Sebastian nods to the woman at the u-shaped counter before he slides into a booth. The waitress approaches with a cup and a full pot of coffee.

“Sugar or creamer?” She asks popping her gum as she pours the steaming liquid in the bronze mug. She’s chewing strawberry gum.

“Neither, thanks,” he huffs.

“Breakfast?”

“Just the coffee,” he shakes his head and looks up at her. “Thanks.”

“Holler if you change your mind,” she nods then traipses her way towards the young group to refill their coffees.

Sebastian lifts the mug and blows carefully over the top of it, the steam rolls over the opposite lip before he takes a drink. The bitter taste feels good on his tongue and wakes him up slightly. He’s not far off from the party group across the way, he hasn’t slept since taking you to bed last night.

He knew beforehand that you’d be there and he kept promising himself that he wouldn’t take you home. He swore to himself that he wouldn’t be hooked by your eyes or your charm. He vowed to himself that he wouldn’t repeat this thing you two have.

It was a mutual friend of a friend that you both know hosting a party that was 80’s themed. On his way he made sure to play his 80’s playlist so he’d be in the right state of mind to participate. He didn’t really dress up too much, just some dark wash jeans and a leather jacket. A leather jacket you fashioned for him with your matching red lingerie set.

Sebastian repeats his promise, his swear, and his vow to himself as he crosses the threshold and is thrown into a swarm of 80’s dressed people. There’s wild hair and bright colors as he moves through the crowd towards the pool, that’s where the makeshift bar is stocked with alcohol.

He subconsciously looks at each face hoping he doesn’t see you--or does he?

Chris, as always, is the bartender whenever there’s a party. He claims it’s his calling at parties to make drinks and chat up new people.

“There’s my guy! Whisky or tequila tonight, buddy?” Chris holds up each bottle of alcohol respectively.

“How about rum and coke?”

Chris lifts his eyebrows in surprise but dutifully proceeds to mix the desired drink. Rum and coke goes down smoother and doesn’t leave him with a splitting headache the next morning or gut rot like tequila does.

It has no relation at all to you preferring rum. Absolutely not.

“Have you seen her yet?” Chris asks, handing his best friend the red plastic cup.

Sebastian finds humor in this, they’re all adults and can afford actual glasses for everyone, and yet they’re supplied with red solo cups like a college house party. He glances around and is pleased to see a beer pong table is set up near the shed where a group of people are playing and cheering.

“Nope. Have you?” He takes a ginger sip testing the taste. It’s mixed well so he swallows some more.

Chris folds his arms and shakes his head.

“No. But I know she’s invited so you two better behave.”

“I will,” Sebastian nods, “I’m going through a three step guide in my head. I’m all good.”

“Yeah? What’s the percentage of it working?”

There’s a collective shout of your name behind him and he cranes his neck to see you being lifted in the air by the mutual friend of a friend you two share. You’re at the beer pong table and apparently you made the winning shot.

Sebastian looks away before he can really get a good look at you in your outfit but the flash of your skin flickers in his mind. He meets Chris’ eyes.

“Guess we’ll find out.”

Sebastian does a good job of steering clear of you. His three step guide that he made up seems to be working but the more rum he drinks he gets them a little jumbled. He just took a shot with some guy he’s been talking to about cars when he feels a light tap on his shoulder.

“You’re supposed to dress up.”

He nearly chokes on his shot at the sound of your voice. Sebastian places the shot glass a little haphazardly on the table before turning around and he groans at the sight of you and Tom Jones’ voice is singing ‘She’s a Lady’ over the sound system.

You’re in high waisted jeans, a ruffled white bandeau and black suspenders that cling to your bare stomach. Your hair is styled in high volume and the lipstick you have on is so red he wonders if it tastes like cherries.

His eyes drink you in and land on your red nails that are placed on your waist, he takes in a deep breath before traveling back up to your eyes.

“I did dress up.”

“As who?” you scoff with a laugh taking in his own outfit. He notices how your eyes linger on the jacket.

“Leather jackets were very fashionable in the 80’s. The whole...rocker look,” he waves his hand off dismissively. “I should know.”

“You wore a lot of leather jackets as a toddler?” you snicker. “It was jean jackets and big hair.”

“And how would you know? You weren’t alive then,” he grins.

“I do my research,” you shrug. “And the 80's are coming back.”

“Well, who are you supposed to be?” he turns as you pull a can of Mike’s Hard Lemonade from a cooler, it’s strawberry lemonade. He holds his hand out expecting you to ask for help to pop it open but you open it yourself and toss the bottle cap onto the table.

“You’re joking, right?” you take a smooth chug of your drink.

“Are you portraying what a young woman in the 80’s would wear to a party?” he guesses taking in your outfit once more.

He promises not to...what was the first step again?

“I’m Kelly Kapowski,” you sigh with an eye roll then they widen at his vacant expression. “Don’t tell me you’ve never seen Saved by the Bell?”

“I don’t watch much tv. Does she look half as good as you do in this outfit?” his eyes drift over you once more.

He swears he won’t….what was it that he swore he won’t do?

“She looks better actually.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he smirks and you shake your head. “How’ve you been? Sorry I left early that last time we were together. I had an appointment that I forgot--what’s so funny?”

You’re laughing at his ramblings of the last time you spent the night together and he left at 5 a.m before you even woke up.

“I know you’re an asshole, you don’t have to cover it up with excuses,” you snicker then pull the neck of a rum bottle up from behind the counter.

“I am an asshole, aren’t I?” he watches you pour the drink into two shot glasses.

“Yeah you are. Shall we cheer to that?” you lift up a shot glass to him.

“Sure,” he laughs.

You clink glasses then swallow the shot in one go. He watches you while he takes his and smiles at the way your body shivers from the pure rum, and he’s zeroed in on your lips as your tongue swipes up the remaining rum.

The night continues with you two playing beer pong and winning three times consecutively. You’re touching his arm and leaning on him while you banter with your opponents. He gets a little mesmerized when you hold your hand behind your back as you take your shots and how you toss your hair back before each throw.

When you swat at a ball, you bump the table and he catches you by the waist so you don’t topple to the grass. You’re both giggling and he feels how cold your skin is.

“You’re freezing,” he murmurs in your hair, his fingers rubbing against the goosebumps on your stomach.

“I’m pleasantly warm and drunk.”

“You have goosebumps.”

“That’s because you’re touching me.”

Your eyes meet but before either one of you could say something else, you’re being called back into the game.

Sebastian ends up making the winning throw and you exclaim in joy then jump into his arms from the excitement. He laughs and spins you around in victory.

“Woah! No spinning or I’ll throw up!” you shriek in laughter and he stops abruptly.

When you’re bored of playing the game you take his hand and drag him inside to the makeshift dance floor. Your bodies move together as Queen plays and Madonna. Then when ‘Hungry Eyes’ comes on, your bodies are flushed together.

You’re dancing on the edge about to take it too far than you both know you should. His hips move against yours in a way you know all too well and you’re looking at him with those damn eyes of yours. Your eyes always mess with his head. He stops his hips then cups the back of your neck pulling your lips to his.

You kiss him back and he’s shocked at the taste of strawberries and not cherries but it makes him kiss you with more fervor. Your fingers slip into his hair as you continue to kiss amongst the crowd. He feels his head clear as your lips move with his, your body pressed against every inch of his.

“Want to get out of here?” he mumbles in your ear and you nod.

He’s always so good at knowing when to leave the party and he doesn’t care who notices. It’s a known fact that you two show up separately but inevitably leave together. It’s a habit that never breaks.

Back at your place, you fumble with your keys as he kisses your neck and his fingers are teasing the lower part of your stomach. You crash through the door in a tangle of arms and legs. He kicks the door shut and captures your lips in the same movement.

He moves through your darkened apartment like so many times before and makes sure to watch for the door handle. He’s bumped his hip too many times in the past. You make quick work of yanking his jacket off just as he snaps your suspenders from the clips.

You gasp when he suckles on your neck, his hands hot and needy on your waist and stomach. He always remembers how much he misses you when you’re together like this again. When he wants to touch you in a certain spot you move your body so he can before he gets a chance to voice it. You’re never afraid to tell him to keep doing whatever it is he’s doing and the noises you make?

You unclasp the frilly white fabric and Sebastian is quick to cup your breasts in his hands and attach his mouth to one of them. You hum in response, carding your fingers through his hair as his tongue rolls and swirls over your bud in a tickling fashion that twists your stomach in knots.

You back up until you fall onto the bed together and he removes his clothes while you shimmy out of your jeans.

“Wait,” he stops your hands from pulling your panties down, his hands over yours. “Let me.”

You smile and let him take off your last article of clothing. He leaves open mouthed kisses up from the curve of your knee, up your thigh and stomach. His tongue leaves a trail between your breasts and you feel him against his thigh.

You moan and he takes himself in his hand, ready to guide himself inside you.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you gasp breathlessly and he stops his movements quickly.

“Are you okay? Do you feel sick or need water?” he asks, cupping your cheek in his hand.

Your hand covers his, your eyes steady on him.

“I’m okay. I want this--you, always but…”

“What?”

“Promise you won’t leave tomorrow?”

Your request is simple and staring at you now he’ll fulfill anything you want. He nods and a faint bell of a promise rings in his ear. Was this what he was trying to remember earlier? The promise of not leaving you?

You lift your head connecting your lips and he swears he’ll keep this promise just as he sinks into you. Your moan is so sweet and you fit around him so perfectly it makes his body shiver slightly. Just like on the dancefloor, your bodies move rhythmically and the faster he moves the louder you get.

Your nails make large arcs in his back as you orgasm twice. You’re panting his name, your nails falling slack against his sweaty back.

“So good for me,” he pants, dragging your hands up above your head. He lifts his head from your shoulder to look at you. “Got one more for me, baby? Hm?”

“Mhm,” you nod, already feeling your stomach twist at his words.

“Yeah you do, you’re such a good girl for me,” his hips start to move at a quicker pace again. Your mouth opens in pleasure as he hits the right spot. “Always so good for me.”

He watches you come for a third time, your moan long and sweet and then you’re snatching his hair in your fingers. You bring his lips to yours frantically.

“I want you to come for me,” you whisper. “Wanna feel you.”

He groans at your words and licks into your mouth, thrusting as fast as he can chasing his own release. You moan along with him and then he pulls out and his body pulses. He tastes strawberries.

Sebastian has his face in his hands as he remembers the swear, promise, and vow he made to himself and the one he made you. He broke all four including two hearts. He’s doubled over in the allotted strikes.

After being together last night he cleaned you up and got you some aspirin and a glass of water. You rolled over and fell asleep in seconds and he stayed up the whole night forcing himself to stay. He stared at the ceiling chasing his thoughts and then when you rolled over cuddling into him he almost fell asleep.

When the birds started to chirp that’s when he slipped out from underneath you and put his clothes back on. He noticed the goosebumps on your legs and covered you up then kissed your forehead with a whispered, ‘I’m sorry.’

You deserve better than him and that’s why he leaves before you could love him. If he stays he’ll never want to leave and that’s dangerous for his heart and yours.

His phone buzzes again but this time it’s a text message from you.

Delete my number and if you see me at a party, don’t approach me. I’m so over this Seb. This is the last time you break my heart.

He should feel relief that this is the end, but he only feels worse. Why couldn’t he just stay?

********

taglist: @cxddlyash @calumance (tagging you because you let me scream about ideas)

#sebastian stan angst #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan writing #sebastian stan fic #seb stan fic #seb stan oneshot #seb stan angst

68 notes · View notes

mariacallous · 2 years

Text

Winning in the court of public opinion

Jurors in the multi-million-dollar trial could begin deliberations as soon as Friday after Ms Heard’s and Mr Depp’s teams deliver their closing arguments to the court.

But, based on the online circus surrounding the case, has Mr Depp already won the real battle in the court of public opinion?

“Amber Heard’s reputation has ironically been defamed during what is a defamation trial,” sociologist and sexual violence researcher Nicole Bedera tells The Independent.

“Regardless of the outcome of the trial, it will be very difficult for Amber Heard to be the winner here.

“She has faced so much online harassment and threats of violence… there isn’t necessarily any fixing of the trauma from that.

“So even if she wins I think it will still feel like a failure for her.”

If “humiliating” Ms Heard and gaining empathy and supporters was Mr Depp’s motivation for bringing the case, then Ms Bedera says he has already “won”.

During the trial, the court was shown a text message where Mr Depp said that his ex-wife was “begging for total global humiliation.... she’s gonna get it”.

“Sometimes when perpetrators bring defamation cases it is just to harass the victim and sometimes the goal is to stay in contact with them,” says Ms Bedera.

She adds: “It is about revenge and humiliating the victim.”

Mr Depp strongly denies all allegations of physical and sexual violence made by Ms Heard and claims she was the abuser in the relationship.

Regardless of innocence or guilt, Ms Bedera says the outpouring of support for Mr Depp is not actually surprising.

Himpathy

Given the extent of his star status and how long he has been in the public eye, people are more likely to empathise with him, she says.

It was back in 1984 when Mr Depp first hit screens in A Nightmare on Elm Street.

Three years later, he then shot to fame on the series 21 Jump Street and, over the next almost four decades, he has become one of the biggest stars in the world.

Ms Heard meanwhile is far less well known, rising to fame only around a decade ago in the 2011 movie The Rum Diary where she starred opposite her future husband Mr Depp.

The sad reality is that people would rather believe that Ms Heard is lying about the abuse than believe that the movie star they grew up watching and looked up to could have done the things he is accused of, says Ms Bedera.

“For people who grew up watching him and who saw him as a role model in their childhood to see him as a perpetrator of gender-based violence is hard to stomach and it makes people feel unsafe,” she says.

“It also makes people feel guilty if they continue to like him,” she says.

“Everyone thinks gender-based violence is wrong up until they like the perpetrator.”

As the trial progressed, she says it became something of a “moralistic problem” where people struggled to renege their support and admit they could have been wrong – regardless of any of the evidence.

“As people got more invested in the case and publicly announced they were on his side it became harder and harder to admit they were wrong,” she says.

“People are more prepared to protect their own self image than to protect the truth.”

From a sociological standpoint, it is also common for the public to have more empathy for an alleged perpetrator of sexual violence than for the victim.

Dubbed “Himpathy”, Ms Bedera says people are “programmed” to show more concern for the impact on a perpetrator’s future than on the future of the victim.

It’s a concept that is most clear in one particularly shocking case.

When Brock Turner raped Chanel Miller on the Stanford University campus in 2015 he was facing up to 14 years in prison.

He was sentenced to just six months and he walked out in three after the judge sympathised with the rapist because – prior to the attack – he was regarded as a model student with a possible future as an Olympic swimmer.

“The centre of cases is often not do we believe victims but is it right to hold the man accountable?” says Ms Bedera.

“It’s a very one-sided level of empathy which sees a lot of men who engage in negative behaviour benefit from it because people reason that they have been ostracised and deserve a second chance.”

As a result, not only has Mr Depp been “exonerated” he has actually “benefitted” from the online obsession over the case, she says.

The explosion of the case on TikTok has given Mr Depp access to a younger fan base, with the biggest proportion of users on the platform aged between 18 and 24 years old – and age group where the 58-year-old actor would not typically be their go-to star.

“He’s definitely become more famous and an entirely new generation of young people know who he is and care about his life,” agrees Mr Nierman.

3 notes · View notes

kuekyuuq · 3 years

Text

Another closer look at the Drunk-Kara scene [2x06]

I wanted to go back and take a closer look at a drunk Kara. ...for, eh, research. Yeah. Because, you know, drunk-ness is generally associated with lowered inhibitions. Me was curious...

1) The two drinks were sent over by Giggles - and I have so many questions why the blue alien wanted the two of them to get a drink that would effect them...

2) Kara: "That's the fourth round of drinks some girl has sent over." ...fourth. ROUND. Some Girl. *sighs* Soooo many questions.

3) I love Kara's defiant expression when Mon-El goats her to drink the rum "You scared?"

4) So, insta-drunk Kara... is totally adorable. Her silly not-a-joke “How do you feel?” - “Floaty. But I'm not floating.” just. so. very. Kara.

And delightfully happy she 'out-smarted' Mon-El into some very much necessary training. ... "...tomorrow."

5) Mon-El, while drunk himself, could clearly see Kara's drunk and not taking it too well, but gets up for more drinks (and never returns)

6) Kara starts fussing with the glass shards on the table to "clean up while [Mon-El is] gone", not looking after him, focused on shoving the shards across the table (next shot shows: she shoved them all back over to his side of the table - damn, girl 😂).

7) Wanna see awkward drunk-Kara? Her trying to deny she's slurring her words to Alex by using the two short words "Am I?" is your starting point. (Still smart. Still such a bad liar.)

8) Why "Chocolate"? Because food. That's why. (I now have this new head-canon, that when first arriving on Earth, Kara had this weird struggle pronouncing 'chocolate', which upset her so much because she really liked the treat in all shapes and forms, but was embarrassed to ask for it. Rousing Alex in the middle of the night, because she kept practicing the word to herself in the dark.)

9) A shot of Aldebaran rum = apparently free if some blue alien is in mood for a 3way. Hysterical giggles Kara = priceless

10) Missed opportunity for Miss Goodie-Two-Shoes Kara to announce "I'm not drunk-flying, that's for sure!" (Or is it just me?)

11) Drunk-Kara is very literal about things (sits and immediately thinks J'onn is really tall, bc she has to look up now; he vanishes from her view and 'he's gone')

12) Kara (sing-song-explains): "Mon-El took me to happy hour." Winn: "Of course he did." Kara (as if showing off?): "He knows how to drink drinks." Winn: "Of course he does."

13) Kara crashing on the DEO mainframe desk within a mere 10 seconds of nobody watching her is both impressive and adorable...

14) ...neither Mon-El nor me believe Kara when she denies her roughing him up during training being about him having gotten her drunk and embarrassing herself.

...So, what’s my conclusion? Well, I hope we get to revisit drunk-Kara one more time before the show is over XD If not: Dear ff-writers, there’s so much potential in this! I know y’all love yourselves some RedDaughter or RedK-Kara - and, oh, I have so many thoughts on RedK - but why go all the way to angsty? This could be a gold-mine!

Other than that... If the writers wanted to prelude to Kara falling for Mon-El, having some attraction for him brewing inside, why not use the fact that she was drunk? Uninhibited and him right in front of her? A flimsy attempt of flirting at him? No? Not even a little bit? Well, okay.

What was the point of her getting drunk? Seriously: What. Was. The. Point!?

#supergirl #kara danvers #drunk-kara #fanfic ideas #fiction dissected #2x06 #supercorp #melissa benoist #drunk kara

36 notes · View notes

nine-blessed-hero · 3 years

Note

13? (Story about a mentor)

As you didn't specify an OC, I rolled a d8 and came out with Kellandra Rhiannon L'Rue. I also tried to add a second part to make this less depressing... but alas, it didn't work. Please enjoy, and thanks for the prompt!

Universe: TESIV: Oblivion CW: Alcohol mention, self-esteem issues Words: 510 Tagging: @corkytheguar @strosmkai-rum @arcane-elder-scrolls

"I don't think he thought of himself as anyone's mentor, let alone that of some scruffy kid from Bravil." It's said into a cup of mulled wine, in front of the Temple's Great Fire. Without, the wind howls a frozen gale and pelts snow against the building. The next morn will see snow to the height of a Nord's thigh – but that is for tomorrow. For now, those not huddled into furs and taking the night watch are instead huddled around the fire. Benches and a table have been hauled closer to facilitate said huddling, with thick blankets purloined from the stores. The hour is late enough to be after dinner but yet early enough that no one is inclined to turn in and brave the cold stone floor of the barracks.

Martin's champion has found herself wedged between Ferrum, who sits astride the end of the bench oiling his armour, and Jena, whose head lolls against a dusky shoulder. "You're not just some scruffy kid." This from Fortis on the second bench, pressed against the table corner where Cyrus is beating him at Nine Men's Morris. "Not now, I'm not," Rhiannon says. "But you just ask Baurus – or Jauffre! – what they thought of me then." "Not his Majesty?" The tone is halfway between jest and curiosity. "Not his Majesty."

The gale and the fire's crackle fill the sudden well of silence until Jena prods her noble pillow. "You never answered the question," she says. "What was Archmage Traven – Arkay rest his bones – like as a mentor?" "He was-" Rin rubs at her chest, as though at an ache. The fire pops, spitting an ember out of the grate. She puts it out with a leather-clad toe, smearing soot as she speaks. "He was kind. Distantly complementary. Apologetic for the circumstances that finally drew me into his presence. Didn't seem too bothered that most of my Art was Alchemical, and I hardly knew the other Schools. "But everything was rushed. No sooner was I back in the Mages' council chamber from my latest endeavour than he was sending me away for some other task." Her expression lightens, eyes distant. "Still, my learning wasn't completely abandoned, though it was piecemeal. Busy-work and suggestions between thither and yon. "He'd pass me tomes as he hurried me out the door," Rin deepens her voice in mimicry of the past Archmage, "'I expect a critique of the author's methods by your return'. Or, 'while I consult with the council, you will make the preparation described in chapter three, with accompanying research for each ingredient. Julienne Fanis will grade you'. Sometimes just a simple, 'learn this spell, and compile an accompanying essay of precepts for usage'." Rin shakes her head with a juddering sigh. "It was far too scattershot to be real. I may have thought myself his mentee, but as I said – I don't believe he thought himself my mentor." She falls silent again, and Jena presses closer in a wordless hug. The wooden game pieces clack on their board, and the jug of wine is passed around to the murmurs of her colleagues.

Bonus (because it ended up on the cutting room floor, but I thought it was amusing): Literature reviews from an aspie devout of the Nine

"Which was the most useless book he told you to read – and I mean told, not requested?" Baragon asks. Rin gives a shrug. "Banker's Bet by Porbert Lyttumly. While Bankers Bet had some base humour, it was ultimately devoid of any real merit. Lyttumly's The Locked Room was a much more worthy book, with a clear moral undertone and a satisfying ending."

#writing #hero of kvatch #fortis #jena #Misc other Blades #TESFic #oblivion fanfiction #tes oblivion #The Elder Scrolls #Wandering Words #oc k'rin l'rue

6 notes · View notes