#but its just cool to think that she conducted intense researched
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Bruh nature just makes less and less sense everyday
Look at this cutie! And somehow this cutie's genes knew that if I evolve myself to look like this very specific caterpillar, I'll live more
Caterpillar-Mimicking Spider (Uroballus carlei): these jumping spiders are able to mimic the caterpillars of local lichen moths, possibly as a way to deter predators
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This species is sometimes referred to as a "caterpillar jumping spider" or "caterpillar jumper." It was discovered in Hong Kong just a few years ago.
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Researchers believe that the spiders are mimicking the caterpillars of lichen moths, which might help them to avoid being preyed upon. Lichen moth caterpillars ingest toxic substances that make them unpalatable to most predators, and their bodies are covered in urticating hairs that would be very unpleasant to eat; those defenses make the caterpillars excellent models for mimicry.
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This article described the discovery back in 2019:
A new spider has been discovered, hiding in plain sight in one of the most populated places on the planet. And there’s a good chance it went undiscovered for so long because it doesn’t really look like a spider at all, but more like a fuzzy baby caterpillar.
Its cute, fuzzy appearance has led the newly discovered spider to be named Uroballus carlei after Eric Carle – author of the wildly popular children’s book The Very Hungry Caterpillar. 
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One thing that is particularly striking about the new species is that it actually looks more like a caterpillar than a spider – hence its name. This intrigued Obenauer and Dr. Logunov, who contacted C&R Wildlife’s Roger Kendrick – an expert in the moths and butterflies native to Hong Kong. Kendrick revealed that living alongside Uroballus carlei in the wooded areas of the Eastern District were lichen moths. During the caterpillar stage, these moths are covered in bristly brown fur not dissimilar to Uroballus carlei. They live on a diet of lichen ... and it’s this diet that gives them their name.
Lichen commonly contains toxins. Lichen moths have adapted to safely eat lichen, but other creatures aren’t so lucky. For this reason, predators tend not to target lichen caterpillars, as they are as toxic and distasteful as their diet. Add to this their hairy bodies and the caterpillars aren’t exactly Cordon bleu.
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Which brings us to our friend Uroballus carlei – because its athletic figure is long and slim line, and it also has a magnificent coat of brown hair, it closely resembles the lichen caterpillar. Dr. Logunov concludes that this may help it to mislead and therefore escape hungry predators.
Sources & More Info:
University of Manchester: Newly Discovered Jumping Spider is Master of Disguise
University of Manchester: Newly Discovered Jumping Spider Named for Children's Author
Journal of Entomology: A New Species of Uroballus from Hong Kong
BBC: Spider Named After the Very Hungry Caterpillar Author, Eric Carle
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the-tmnt-ficfinder · 6 months ago
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Ficfinder finds: The Neon Void
Chapter 2: Houdini
Rottmnt Fanfic Summary: Big Mama has a surprise guest at the Grand Nexus Hotel.
Houdini: Appraisal and Ratings
(Don't know what fanfic "Appraisal and Ratings" means? Check out my explanation on my Main Masterpost! Looking for a different fanfic to read? Head on over to my Fanfic List Masterpost!)
Disclaimer: This fanfic is completed, and is written by @sugarpasteltmnt, so go show them some love and kindness!
The fanfic ratings are not based on quality, favoritism, or how good I think it is, but rather, how intense a subject may be. Like a movie review, or the tags on Ao3, letting the readers know what to expect.
Plot: 💛💛💛💛🖤
"Plot is four out of five!! Immediately, the plot for this story shows right up. This is in no way a slow burn story, jumping right into the drama at first chance."
Suspense/Mystery: 💛💛💛💛🖤
"Suspense/Mystery is four out of five!! Chapter two is filled with mystery regarding who The Neon Void is, along with the suspense of a good fight!! This chapter will have you on the edge of your seat!!"
Angst/Hurt:💛 🖤🖤🖤🖤
"Angst/Hurt is one out of five!! Minimal angst, mostly action and excitement for this chapter!! ^^"
Fluff/Comfort: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤
"Fluff/Comfort is one out of five!! Once again, very little fluff, just as there is very little angst. Simply a thrilling chapter indeed!!"
Emotions Conveyed: 💛💛🖤🖤🖤
"Emotions Conveyed is two out of five!! Chapter two of The Neon Void is definitely a thrilling chapter. This chapter is less about the feels and more about the excitement as it plunges right into a good plot!!"
Drama/Tension Level: 💛💛💛💛💛
"Drama/Tension Level is five out of five!! Absolutely, the drama is a five for this chapter!! Between the fight scenes, and the wild craziness of The Neon Void, this chapter has a ton of action!!"
Triggers: 💛🖤🖤🖤🖤
"Triggers are one out of five!! This chapter is minimally triggering. The only thing to look out for, is your classic TMNT violence ^^"
Legibility (Reading): 💛💛💛💛💛
"Legibility (Reading) is five out of five!! This chapter was incredibly fun to read!! The funky fonts used are really fun to look at, and add such a cool element to the story!!"
Legibility (Audio): 💛💛🖤🖤🖤
"Legibility (Audio) is two out of five! While the story itself is good for listening to, the funky fonts mess with reading quality, making it hard to understand. This chapter is much better read than listened to for sure!! Plus, there's fanart imbedded into the bottom of the chapter than you wouldn't want to miss."
Length: 💛💛💛🖤🖤
"Length is three out of five!! Chapter two of The Neon Void takes about 21-22 minutes to listen too!!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Next Chapter ->
<- Previous
The Neon Void: Ratings and Chapter List
Personal thoughts on chapter below cut (Contains Spoilers)
The design for The Neon Void is such a fun and colorful one!!
There was a loud snapping sound. The yokai glitched. Shuttering in the air—looking like what old 3D movies looked like without the glasses—before coming back into focus two feet to the left from where he just was. Huh—?
I can't imagine how cool this actually looked!!
“SØⱤⱤɎ. ł ĐØ₦'₮ Ⱨ₳VɆ ₮ł₥Ɇ ₮Ø ₱Ⱡ₳Ɏ. ₲Ø₮ ₱Ⱡ₳₵ɆS ₮Ø ฿Ɇ. ⱧɆⱧɆ.”
I have no idea how the author got his effect, but its darn freaking cool looking!!
“…What in sweet Marie Curie’s name was that about?” Donnie was the first to break the silence. Raph was too shaken by the echo of the yokai’s laughter in his head to respond. Mikey dissipated his chains with a sizzle, exhaling a loud gasp. The three brothers sat still for a minute. Stunned.
Random fact because who doesn't like facts? Marie Curie was a Polish and naturalised-French physicist and chemist who conducted pioneering research on radioactivity. She did a ton of research on a cure for cancer!! There you are, fact of the day!!
“I don’t know what he was looking for,” Big Mama sighed, “He was pestering me about some fibble-fabble ‘key’.” Big Mama clearly didn’t notice the boys freezing. Donnie felt the color drain from his face. A…key? A key to what? It could have meant a million things— there were countless possibilities to what it was probably for…the chances of it being that key were practically nonexistent…Right? Donnie’s feeble hope for reassurance from his brothers shattered when he glanced over and saw their faces. He could tell they were wondering the same thing he was.
Right when Big Mama said something about a 'key' my mind immediately jumped to the same conclusion that the brothers came up with. Its kinda fun to realize things like that.
“To teleport, you wouldn’t bend the space around you—you’d have to bend every molecule in your body at the same time. It would be like performing brain surgery, calculating the trajectory of a flying rocket, and folding YOURSELF into an impossible origami shape all at the same time!” He threw his hands up, exasperated, “That, AND there’s no risk of portal-jacking. A perfect, instantaneous, limitless control. ALL while having more power than several atomic bombs! It’s literally the holy grail of transportation! The highest score imaginable!”
The way this concept is explained is immaculate!! How portaling and teleportation differs, how one is easier while the other is dangerous. The whole concept of this is creative, unique, yet draws on knowledge we already have.
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shattered-catalyst · 4 years ago
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OCD Subtypes for the RPC
Part 1 is here
Well well well, we are back for Part 2 of the Roleplayer’s Guide to OCD.
Fellow Ocd Folks, I see you in those tags and I'm going to do my best to ensure those obsessions are represented here- BUT understand that physically it is not going to be possible to list every single one because I am one person.  Regardless its incredibly brave of you all to rb and add things in the tags, I know its hard to talk about this shit and I see you. I see you.
Resultantly I typed this out and posted it in formatting to assist with accessibility in mind; if you cannot read it still ( I tried Im sorry!) i recommend the copy and paste method or getting the chrome extension bee-line reader.
 There will be grammatical and spelling mistakes. Im sure spacing is odd some places, but you have to understand doing this is extremely anxiety provoking for me so Im just getting it done when I can.
Remember to use your critical thinking; not everyone has the same symptoms/compulsions/triggers and all that.
OCD is fluid. Its like liquid mercury. One day its a handful of subtypes another day its another different serving.
If you are in general squicked about certain topics even by mention read ahead with your own judgement. Remember us folks that have OCD have many disturbing and distressing experiences so if you are writing a character who has OCD and you can’t read about it just don’t give them that obsessive thought/ compulsion. Make sure writing is still a safe and enjoyable hobby for yourself first and foremost.
But ethically and morally I cannot and will not leave out the more disturbing bits. You have the ability to scroll by, I and many others do not get the chance to escape triggering content that our own mind creates.
So read ahead with your best judgement or at least skip around the squicky parts and educate yourself on what OCD is so people quite using it as a Obsessive Christmas/Corgi/Cat Disorder thing. Alright? Cool beans.
Okay so you made it passed post 1 and got under the read more. Give yourself a gold star for diving into this monster of a document.
Below is a crash course it is not meant to replace actual psychoeducation, personal research, or google. Honestly most of us do our research extensively but because OCD is treated so horribly by social media, media, and society in general.
I wasn’t sure where to throw these together because the education tools to learn fully about OCD are very specialized and thus very restricted. I found that many people DO have these experiences with OCD though so I will represent them throughout. I’ll also sprinkle some of my own experiences so you can get a good reference of a person who has the disorder and not just a randomly generated person.
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So OCD is made up of Obsessions, Trigger, Intrusive thought, Misinterpretation/feared consequence,Somatic and Psychological Anxiety, and Compulsions/Rituals.
Your character may not be able to list all of these. In fact if they aren't in ERP therapy they may not be able to puzzle these things out. But YOU as the writer should know them. Your character won’t be walking around talking to just ANYONE that they have OCD. Remember a huge aspect of OCD is it’s Shame.  The disorder makes us feel intense shame regarding our intrusive thoughts, as a result OCD goes undiagnosed for years especially if it has pediatric onset.
  We won’t tell anyone what we are experiencing or why we are doing x y or z. We act like nothing is wrong because to emotionally react is to admit to yourself- and therefore the world- that you have had this intrusive thought and are therefore by virtue a horrible person.[For further information I would suggest also researching PANDAS].
It may be noticeable if your character has an intrusive thought. They may wince or grimace or roll their eyes certainly, but they won’t open up to Joe at the cafe about how their brain is constantly torturing them. I apparently have a very noticeable eye twitch.
 Depending on the nature of the intrusive thought it will get more or less of a reaction out of me. Its usually dependent on how distressing the intrusive thought is and/or if its a new one.
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You see OCD doesn’t sit still. It never looks the same. You’ll have your long haul intrusive thoughts that are with you for years but then you’ll have weird ass ones that just appear and demand their voice be heard yelling about cars hitting people or squirrels getting eaten.
Some people have similar ones! So while everyone is different there will always be someone out there with an intrusive thought similar to yours.
 For instance; I bonded emotionally with a lady on reddit because we both have intrusive thoughts during storms that animals and the homeless are dying. We were both horribly relieved to find another person and also distressed that every snow or rain storm brings horrible images and whispers to your mind that while you are warm and snug in bed someone is freezing to death. And its all your fault.
Some days are better than others. As with all mental illnesses it isn’t CONSTANT ALARM BELLS. Some days it will be all alarms and other days it will be like a gentle whisper on the breeze. You can almost not notice it. Almost.
Obsessive thoughts run the gauntlet from ‘i will/could have/may/may accidentally harm etc’ something that you hold of value. This is any obsessive thought that you have: you think about repeatedly and not by choice, it is very anxiety provoking, it is unwanted, and unwelcome.
 Mine run the scale from ‘squirrel will be murdered’ to ‘being responsible for harm’.
Compulsions or ‘rituals’ are any behavior done to alleviate the anxiety from the intrusive thought and trigger object. In short, compulsions and rituals are not fun. they are absolutely not logical, and we know they are not logical but we are forced to do them. Thats why its a disorder. 
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To emphasize from post 1: magical thinking and the faulty link between thoughts and actions are hallmarks of OCD.  Magical thinking can be anything from contamination to if I turn around three times or stare really hard at something the bad thing wont happen. Sounds weird and is weird and we know it is thats why its a disorder and not a delusion.
The faulty belief that thought=action is the biggest hurdle it is incredibly difficult to grasp, at least for me maybe some of you that have done further ERP can attest, that the mere concept of a thought not being the same as an action is completely and totally mind blowing.
Free will? Yeah thats terrifying. IDK about anyone else but free will is absolutely terrifying; what do you mean i could do anything i wanted?
Thats how you face OCD(WITH A TRAINED THERAPIST). You give in to ambiguity and the unknown. Its breaking that link between thought and action. Its incredibly difficult and draining. A five minute exposure leaves me in shatters for a week and two five minute ones had me ripping my nails past the nail beds with anxiety.
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Just a reminder: Do not have your character expose themself or expose folks with OCD to a trigger to “ help us get over with”. That is literally forcing someone with a mental illness into a break down and is not helpful. In fact its worse because a person knows about this intrusive thought and they tried to make it real. More shame and some trauma. 
If you have OCD, more likely than not a family member or significant other has tried this with the purest of intentions. But it never works like that. Theres a reason that therapists get special training for this. If people want a post on ERP I can make one at some point. 
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Actually let’s drag me with the squirrel thing as the example- fellow OCD Folks get out a pen and paper and try breaking down one of yours;
Obsession:Squirrel will be murdered
Trigger: seeing a squirrel
 Intrusive thought: Graphic images of a squirrel being murdered by a hawk/ impaling depending on the day
Misinterpretation/feared consequence: Squirrel will be killed and its all my fault
Somatic and Psychological Anxiety:intense anxiety, palms sweating, heart racing,
Compulsions/Rituals: Must stare at the squirrel to prevent bad things from happening, 
Now imagine if that is every time you see a fucking squirrel. You have somehow become completely and totally transfixed on a squirrel and nothing is going to pull your attention away or the squirrel dies- which your mind is giving you lovely images of btw.
Cute right?
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Below are the subtypes with general information/example thoughts/ and how some of these have impacted me socially because apparently some people dont understand that mental illnesses impact their social lives?? yall...
Social: This can range from ‘ i am constantly thinking i did something wrong so i have to ask for reassurance that we are still friends’ to completely unrealistic worries. Maybe its an intrusive thought that ‘ your voice is annoying them’ . There’s reassurance seeking, internal and external checking.
 It makes friendships extremely difficult and exhausting. You’re not trying to get to know someone with an annoying frat boy egging on anxiety in your brain. This can also manifest as having strict rules for yourself and ethical codes. 
My therapist likes to say she could give us (folks with OCD) a pile of hundred dollar bills and come back and they’d all be returned. Because OCD makes you so strict and morally confined. Which ISNT fun. Like I dont get pleasure over having to memorize the entire Code of Conduct!
Social Media: Its the bane of human existence some days and a lifeline the next. But what if everytime your follower count was an odd/even number it sent you into a panic attack. What if you spent all your time with intrusive thoughts that somehow someone misinterpreted a post or that someone is going to be harmed by a post you made about tapirs. 
You may be forced to block people to get your number down or keep pornbots on your blog to keep your number what you like (see there is a use for them! We sacrifice those before actual users!) You may be refreshing your page every second because ‘what if you miss a message’. It's going to look a lot like ‘check check check check reassure yourself double check your posts check check check reassure check check FALSE MEMORY check your post etc’
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Clothing/Body Image: When its not Body Dysmorphia it can be OCD. Sometimes this looks like I obsess about a body part and therefore I choose my clothes/hairstyles to hide those.  Some personal examples: as a kid I was sure that mind readers exist ( THIS IS AN OCD THING TOO I was so relieved to find that out) and that if i didnt wear  a particular hat they would see all these horrible thoughts and it would be revealed what an awful person I was. So I wore the same dumb ass bucket hat for a year (or more I cannot remember but it was a long ass time).
I was once so fixated on being given a compliment on my eye color that I wore sunglasses (even at night) to a summer camp. And if any of those teen girls in that cabin that stood up and mocked me in a crowded lunch hall by singing ‘i wear my sunglasses at night’ you all owe me 40$.
Even younger still I had intrusive thoughts. Like say, if anyone noticed I was female that i would be kidnapped so I chopped my hair very short. I altered my appearance to be very androgynous and even switched to walking more masculine. Because omg if your hips move someones going to kill you thats just how it works. ( It doesnt help I later figured out I was a lesbian)
Your wardrobe may be impacted by OCD and yes so can your body image.
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Also yes the fear of mind readers is also a thing; i always thought I was somehow faking OCD because yes that is also a…..
Faking: Do you value telling the truth? Do you detest lying ? Boy Howdy do I have some news for you. OCD is going to try and convince you that YOU LIED. Whether it was on a chastity pledge to get a free sandwich or in a conversation you just HAD. This links a lot with false memory OCD.
Another aspect is OCD makes us doubt we have OCD and tries to convince us we have any other diagnosis under the sun and we are obviously faking our OCD.
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Sexual Orientation OCD; It is as it is called. Sexual Orientation OCD is what happens when your brain goes ‘hold on what if you’re not this orientation what if you are THAT’. It doesn’t matter where on the LGBT umbrella you fall you will have OCD trying to convince you otherwise. From compulsive staring at members of the same/opposite gender to compulsively reassuring or checking with yourself to ensure that ‘ no no you are in fact THIS orientation.’ 
This can range in behavior from binge watching porn, staring compulsively to check that there is OR is NOT attraction,self checking past experiences and memories, analyzing your clothing and your lifestyle in painful and intricate methods.
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False Memory OCD; False memory OCD is basically your brain sitting you in a noir interrogation room, handcuffing you to a chair grilling you. It demands that you did *insert bad thing here*. This can range from anything from something Harm based to pretty much *anything* from other OCD subtypes. Which is quite delightful really.
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Sensorimotor OCD; Sensorimotor OCD is obsessive body responses. These can be ‘ I have to cough really hard and really feel it right in my chest and if I can’t get it right I have to cough until I do’. This can be counting your heartbeats. Trying to check yourself that you in fact have a heart and checking and reassuring that it is still beating. It can be hyper-awareness of swallowing or even swallowing repeatedly. It is anything with selective attention; ie its an automated process but your OCD is forcing you to be aware of it.
Your OCD makes you aware of the sensation of, say, breathing, and then it convinces you that if you stop paying attention to it you will stop breathing. So now you’re horribly aware and focused solely on breathing and breathing alone. It keeps me up most nights with the pounding anxiety fueled by the pressure of ‘if you stop focusing on breathing you will stop breathing completely’ or waiting to feel that last heartbeat in your chest. 
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Existential OCD; You ever feel existential ? Existential OCD is like having a very aggressive existential crisis that turns you into NEEDING answers IMMEDIATELY. This can look anything from hours panic scrolling the net to panic inducing anxiety because you don't know what happens after death. The thoughts are like foghorns on a misty sea.
This sounds basic and the only example i can give is as a teeny tiny 7 year old I had a panic attack in bed screaming that ‘ what if im a dinosaur and im asleep and i wake up and my whole family is GONE’.
To be fair I did like dinosaurs a lot.
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Harm OCD; This is pretty self explanatory but I will give more details. Harm OCD is OCD demanding that you will/could/can/may have/might harmed yourself/others/any living creature and that you alone are responsible. 
This means anything from getting anxious driving over crosswalks because ‘what if you dont see one and hit someone and its all your fault and you hit someone go back and make sure you havent hit anyone’ to ‘im holding a knife so im going to accidentally stab someone’ to ‘ i didnt see my cat this morning and now im at work and think she must be dead and i am responsible for her demise.’
 It can be as simple as ‘if i use a pencil i will stab myself in the eye’ or as complex as ‘ i may accidentally say a slur’/ ‘ i am going to say this horrible thing out loud if i cannot control myself.’ It can also be images of terror or racist/sexist/ableist jokes in your mind that repeat like a broken record.
(Please note from section 1 that this is extremely anxiety provoking and not something you would do. OCD preys on what we respect the most.)
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pOCD; Tumblr listen the fuck up because I am tired of seeing people get called shit on this website for having this mental illness. People who experience pOCD are not pedophiles, they do not get any pleasure or benefit. The thoughts and images are meant to induce harm to the person experiencing them. Children are normally the trigger for this and the resulting images can be very graphic. Again you aren’t attracted to children- thoughts of them getting harmed hurt you so your OCD makes you see them.
Know this so you can advocate for folks with pOCD in real life. Remember we are here. We are suffering and we are terrified of your children.
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Poisoning others/or in your food; Life isn’t medieval anymore but sometimes OCD demands we have a food taster or that we obsessively worry that we may kill someone with our cooking. Personally I struggle with colorblindness so I am constantly fretful over cooking any sort of meat so it’s difficult for me to cook it.
 However this also comes as; obsessive horrible thoughts of your cooking kill someone or that you have somehow/accidentally poisoned someone’s food (even if you haven’t touched it or been within a foot of it ) or that someone has poisoned YOUR food even if no one has touched it except you. You’re going to be picking apart your food or unable to eat out at all.
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Emotional Contamination: It’s similar to magical thinking and this terrifying prospect of mind readers. Emotional contamination can manifest as anything from intense worry over somehow gaining someone else’s negative personality traits.
 Or that somehow by interacting with any role of someone horrible will make YOU somehow also responsible for the horribleness.  There is usually a person or a type of person that is a trigger, but it can also be location based.
 This is one subtype where magical thinking and superstition are apparent.  
For instance; as a teen if a male was in my space or had physical contact;like shaking hands,giving a high five, being in my room etc. I would have to go around and physically touch all the objects that I perceive they may have also touched as a way to cancel out their presence. 
This includes wiping off myself to negate even the touch of family members. It really hurts peoples feelings, my father was especially hurt by this.
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Physical Contamination: This goes beyond physical dirt and grime. Most of us dont have spotless homes because if you’re having a fist fight with your brain everyday cleaning falls by the wayside just like it would for anyone else. Physical contamination holds 2 things: physical contamination obsessions AND compulsive cleaning behaviors/rituals. We believe that a small amount of a contaminate can cover large surfaces.
 Oh, and did I mention its not JUST dirt/germs/viruses. The list is expansive but heres a mixed bag of what they can be: sticky substances,dead animals,glitter (FUCKING GLITTER),negative words or language,colors, numbers, surfaces in general, food, people, and activities.  There is also a hyper responsibility to protect yourself and others from ‘contamination’.
Strangely there is a magical separation between the contaminated world and the ‘clean’ one. Spaces designated as clean would be a bedroom/bathroom/workspace where you are most active. That space is where the compulsions and intrusive thoughts occur. Its not I MUST CLEAN EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME. Otherwise I would be working cleaning houses because why the hell not amiright?
A real world example from a colleague would be a young man with physical contamination OCD is struck with such intrusive thoughts about cleaning that they refuse to allow anyone in their room or any animals in their home. But they are not able to even flush the toilet, take out the trash, wash dishes, or do garbage because of their intrusive thoughts.
The most famous would be compulsive hand washing but I feel it is important to also note OTHER aspects of physical contamination because everyone sees the hand scrubbing stereotype. 
Other compulsions include intricate rituals, not touching the floor (i played X-treme the floor is lava during college. I couldnt let my feet touch the floor because it was ‘dirty’),excessive showering (2-8+ hour showers guys, 8 hour showers. Thats what we’re talking about.)
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Relationship OCD: This comes as no surprise that yes you will have intrusive thoughts that you are somehow harming/ will harm/ may accidentally harm your significant other. Whether that be by physical or emotional means. It can look like ‘ I may have lied to her about how much I love her’, ‘ i may not actually love her and I may be leading her on’, and ‘ I must be corrupting her’. These can extend to certain physical activities with false memory OCD as a cherry on top. A great finishing garnish to leave you feeling absolutely dismayed and unable to trust your own perception.
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Scrupulosity: Religion! Whatever that may be! Its a thing with OCD.  With Scrupulosity obsessive thoughts run all over the board from; you committed a sin and forgot about it you monster to having to pray continuously/ a certain time/ until its right. What is right?Ask OCD that’s the only person who knows. 
We are fairly certain my grandfather had OCD because he went to church for every single Catholic Mass. Every single day. Every. Single. Day.  That’s not a healthy amount of attendance(I'm calling you out posthumously because I care Robert!). This can also look like: praying a certain amount of times. Praying until you do it ‘right’. Confessing every single potential sin. Cataloguing and dwelling over ‘sinful’ things. 
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Symmetry or Just Right OCD: Symmetry OCD is the runner up for ‘most likely recognized on tv shows’ award.
Symmetry OCD convinces you that if *insert thing here* isnt symmetrical or ‘just right’ (a magical position or number of objects that makes 0 logical sense) that something bad will happen.
This can range from the known; rearranging things. But it also looks like buying more objects until you reach the right amount and even throwing out objects if theres ‘too many’.
It can range from ‘the walls are percievably not straight so now i avoid that room at all costs otherwise i will be trapped traveling the edges of the wall with my eyes otherwise it will fall in and murder us ALL.’ to ‘ this historical bust is one inch off to the left and now all i see is visions of it breaking against the ground.’
So that is what I have time for. 9 pages on subtypes and basic information. If you find yourself wanting me information all of this is easily accessible online. So go, be free and dont ever compare people to Monk again. Write Batman and Scott Summers with OCD. Give us ACTUAL representation and not throw away joke lines. We are here. Our suffering isnt funny. We deserve representation too.
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mierinette · 4 years ago
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chapter 06 - anime
水鏡照らす光跳ねて、 今が特別に感じた。
tumblr month: @adrinetteapril​​
links: ao3 | ff.net chapter: previous | next
ADRIEN makes it his mission to introduce Marinette to all the wonders of the human world.
He invites her out to try human activities, goes with her to try different human meals, encourages her to listen and watch various human media:
His most recent point-of-concern— anime.
“I just think it’s an absolute crime that you’ve never seen the in wonder and beauty that is Japanese anemonetion,” Adrien explains, putting on a dramatic face.
“... Japanese what?”
“Animation,” he amends, then noticing her judging expression, continues. “Look, I’m running out of puns! We’re hanging out way too much— I can’t catch up.”
Marinette finds herself laughing. “I mean, we could hang out less if you wanted to.”
“No!” He argues; says it a bit too loudly, really, as she evidently looks taken aback by his reaction. “I mean,” he coughs. “I just found someone to watch anime with me. You’re not getting off the hook that easily.”
(Adrien looks proud of himself. “Cool, I haven’t used that one yet!”)
She rolls her eyes, then stretches back upon the bed. Adrien casually sits on the chair, propping his head back upon the back rest. “So, what human torture show are you putting me through this time?”
“You say that like you didn’t cry over Moana.”
“If you did not cry while watching Moana finally accept herself and proclaim her love for both the sea and her people then I do not trust you—.”
He laughs, then nods in understanding. “It is a pretty good Disney movie,” Adrien points out. “A lot better than the earlier films.
“You mean, unlike the Little Mermaid?” Marinette responds dryly, visibly cringing in distaste. “The only thing that film got right about us mermaids was that we really don’t like mingling with humans. Ariel would be a one-in-a-million. And insane, probably.”
“So you’re Ariel, then?” She pointedly glares at him at even the mere suggestion of it, and he raises his arms in fake surrender. “I meant your interest in the human world! You are with us now, after all. And I like to think that you enjoy my company.”
“Eh,” Marinette only says offhandedly, lips tilting up the slightest bit at his unimpressed expression. “But I sure wouldn’t be the type to sell my soul to a— well, they don’t even exist, evil sea witch, just to flirt with someone. Especially one that’s human.”
“Yeah, you don’t need to do something as dramatic as sell your soul to get a human to fall in love with you,” Adrien says easily.
And what exactly does he mean by that?
“I— uh,” she flounders, takes a deep breath in, then shakes her head. “Anyway! What are we watching?”
(Yes, a smooth change of topic.)
“I figured that we could watch one of my personal favorites.” He grabs the remote and presses play on the stream— a pun that goes over his head and not hers, which makes Marinette truly wonder if she is spending too much time with him; if she’s already thinking of puns without even thinking about it.
Instead, the mermaid nods absentmindedly and decides to try and sit through the first episode— at the very least, to have him leave her alone. (Though the real reason may be that she just wants to spend time with him; though she’d never admit it.)
In any case, the decision doesn’t matter: because they end up binge-watching the entire series.
And Marinette cannot stop crying as the final scene cuts into view.
Adrien had somehow made his way to the bed halfway through watching, as she leans against his arm while staring helplessly at the screen.
“That’s it? It’s over?!”
He smiles in slight amusement, then nods. “Come on, it’s a sweet ending. And it ties up everything nicely.”
“No, it was perfect but I— I’m just,” she trips over her words, evidently conflicted and frustrated over the finale. “It’s done, right? There aren’t anymore new episodes or anything?”
“Nope,” he replies easily. “That’s all of it, since you inseasted on watching everything this morning.”
“What do you mean ‘this morning’, it’s only like 8PM—,” she pauses as he shows her his phone screen, the time 3:47 PM displayed front-and-center. “It’s almost 4AM?!”
She pauses, looking outside to see the moon slowly fading from view. “No but I— last time I checked it was— how did that happen?”
He’s full-on laughing now, and grins. “Power of anime; it gets you hooked, so you won’t be able to sleep until you finish all the episodes. Then you basically black out and only realize how many hours have passed when it’s already over.”
“You’ve introduced me to a cursed medium,” Marinette only mutters, running an exhausted hand down her face. “I’m supposed to be studying today.”
“Come on,” he says back, tilting her head in his direction. “I’ll help you out. This is for Mme. Mendeleiev’s class, right?”
At that point, she belatedly notices their altogether compromising position: lying together on her bed, his arm guarding her neck, and their faces only a few inches apart (she can see the green in his eyes: notice how they perfectly capture the shade of nature on land— beautiful), and almost falls over as she takes a quick step back.
The fact that she had been in such close proximity with a human, for an unknowable amount of time, makes her panic. The fact that it’s Adrien effectively makes her panic even more— though of a notably more intense variety and degree.
(She refuses to expound on the feeling.)
“Yeah!” Marinette finally manages to splutter out, before getting herself off the bed as quickly as possible and making her way to her backpack. She pats it awkwardly. “Have a lot of research to do if I want to ace that test.”
Adrien only stares at her for a moment, smiles, and she feels her mermaid-heart threaten to burst out of its chest. She doesn’t know how to explain the feeling, but Marinette finds herself thrown into overdrive when they’re together; unable to even conduct the most basic functions when he gets too close.
It’s absolutely inconvenient and irritating.
But she finds that it strangely feels good as well.
“You’re going to study now?” Adrien only asks, once again waving his phone in her direction. “It’s 4:00 AM, you can study later,” he says. “You just watched almost twelve hours of anime in the span of a day— that’s too much screen time for your brain.”
“But I’m not tired!” Marinette tries to argue, which would’ve held more basis if she hadn’t evidently swallowed down a yawn that tried to escape her throat. “As her TA, you can’t have Mme. Mendeleiev’s worst student failing her test, right?”
Adrien sighs, standing up and walking over to her. Once again, he’s at an extremely close distance, and Marinette’s almost confident that he can hear her not-heart beating.
He looks at her, and they hold eye contact. “I may be her TA, but I’m your friend first. So go and rest, Marinette. I’ll help you as soon as you wake up.”
“Fine,” she says resignedly, before walking over the bed. “What about you?”
“Well, I was just planning to hop over with you on your bed and—,” noticing the panicked expression on her face, Adrien laughs. “Kidding. Nino lives nearby, so I’ll probably crash at his to make it easier on both of us when I come back.”
“You don’t have to come back, you know,” Marinette responds, suddenly feeling the slightest bit guilty about keeping him in the area. “I mean it— I can do it myself.”
“But it’d be easier if we did it together, ” Adrien only points out. “Besides, you’d be getting help from her star student. I don't think that's something you can pass up on.”
“Ah right, the star who caused an accident to some poor faculty member for leaving water trails all over the outside of her classroom.”
He grins. “I seem to recall that being someone else’s fault,” Adrien hums back. “I was just trying to help out a friend.”
“Oh, so we’re friends now?”
“I’d be open to taking it to the next level,” He responds just as easily, echoing Alya’s statement from weeks ago.
The weight of her words don’t even dawn on her after a minute— with the panic consequently weighing in.
“Anyway,” Adrien continues, “I’ll be going ahead, so you have no excuse but to rest.” He slings his backpack over his shoulder, then nods to her lightly. Sea you later, Marinette.”
“You’ve used that already you know that right?”
“I think it’s a classeac,” he says easily, then opens the door. “I’ll come back in a few hours, okay?”
“... okay.”
He smiles, one last time, before the door effectively shuts, and she’s left to her own devices.
Marinette calmly walks over to her bed, then flips over to lie down on it.
She remembers basically cuddling with him over these sheets.
And then she screams into a pillow.
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cultureisdarkbeer · 4 years ago
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Road to All Things: Chapter 10 Irrevocable
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Road to All Things 
Tagging:  @season4mulder​ @today-in-fic​
Bacon sizzling. Her apartment filled with the smell and had Scully salivating. She opened her eyes and realized she had actually drooled on her pillow. The sheets on the other side were crumpled, but the bed was empty. Mulder was cooking. Scully tried not to smile, but she really couldn’t help herself. It almost felt like a dream,-too real to be real- but as she stepped in the shower and the hot water cascaded down her body, her sore muscles ached out the markings of Mulder’s path. It had been quite a night and very little of it was spent sleeping.
Dressed, Scully came into the kitchen and snagged a piece of the bacon. Salty and crisp, cooked to perfection. Mulder turned with the pan of scrambled eggs and scooped them up to carefully lay an equal amount in each dish. 
“You got up too early.” He looked up at her and smiled sheepishly. “I was going to make you breakfast in bed.”
Scully poured herself some coffee and sat down, taking an approving sip. She raised an eyebrow. “You want me to go back to bed?”
The corner of his mouth raised. “Well, yeah, but not for bacon and eggs.”
Scully ignored him, although his words resonated sharply in her chest,  and concentrated on eating her breakfast. Who knew Mulder knew how to cook breakfast? He surprised her every day. Mulder sat down beside her and started eating. The air between them was thick and alive. Every time their eyes met she felt their connection, only now it was concentrated into electrified intense explosions in her chest.
“You have plans today?” Mulder asked, grabbing the last piece of toast and using it to sop up his remaining eggs.
“I’m having lunch with my mother,” Scully replied solemnly, fidgeting in the chair and sending a fiery lock behind her ear. “I have to tell her. She knew I went through the procedures. It’s not a conversation I’m looking forward to.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“Mulder, I’m capable of telling her.”
“I know that.” He looked at his watch. “What time am I picking you up?”
 *
 Scully’s heels clicked loudly against the uneven pavement approaching her mother’s house. It was a cool day, yet Mulder had perspiration beading along his hairline.  “Are you nervous?” she asked. 
Mulder released a humored breath and pressed in the button to ring the bell. “Your mother and I are friends, what would I be nervous about?”
Not to anyone’s surprise, Maggie’s face glowed and her smile grew extra wide at the sight of Mulder. “Fox, how good of you to come,” she spurted merrily.
Scully helped Maggie serve lunch while Mulder squirmed in his chair, slurping his tea and as Scully could see, trying his best not to break anything. On their second trip to the kitchen and Mulder happily munching on a sandwich, Maggie cornered Scully between the sink and the drain rack. “So what brings the two of you here? Might there be some news?”
“Mom,” Scully started, but then cracked, not able to hold back the disappointment, “It didn’t take. I’m not going to be a mother.” Her mother had looked so excited that it almost broke Scully to see the features in her face fall and her shoulders slump. 
“Honey,” Maggie said, bringing her into her arms, letting her cry.
The ice maker thumped from the fridge alerting them to its presence and Scully sniffled. “I’m all right. I’ll be okay.” 
“Dana,” she said, as Scully backed away from their embrace. “You’re allowed to not be okay. How is Fox handling this? I’m here if either of you ever want to talk. It wouldn’t hurt to talk with a priest. Even a counsellor. There’s couples counseling..”
“Mom, mom,” Scully hugged her again. “Thank you. I know. Mulder and I don’t have that kind of relationship. We are good friends.”
“Dana, don’t be naive. You asked him to be the father of your child. He was preparing for that and now he has to accept that the outcome has changed. He’s not going to let on because he cares for you, because he’ll want to be strong for you, but he’s mourning too.”
Scully felt the wrath of her decisions needling its way inside.  “I-I feel like I disappointed you. You’ll have no grandchildren from me.”
“Honey, I have grandchildren and it’s not to say that you will never have children. God will answer your prayers in ways you may not be able to imagine. Never give up on a miracle.”
Scully squinted and tilted her head slightly.  “That’s the same thing Mulder said to me.”
“He’s a wise man, Dana. You should listen.” Maggie lifted the tray of freshly baked cookies and headed out to the dining room. “Let’s go, we’re being rude.”
Maggie poured the coffee and Mulder snagged two cookies. “Mrs. Scully, this was incredible. I almost can’t eat another bite,” he said with his mouth full, the chocolate oozing from the corner of his lips. He wiped it with his pinky laughing at his eagerness, using a napkin to clean the rest off his face.
After dessert and idle conversation, they stood to leave, Scully hugged her mother and walked ahead to the car. Maggie pulled Mulder aside. “I know this is hard for you too. I know you wanted this baby.”
Mulder tightened his upper lip and his shoulders drooped giving the appearance of a bird nesting on a branch. “I want what’s best for Scully. Right now I’m just making sure she knows I’m here and I support her.”
“I know, Fox,” she said, rubbing his forearm, her warm touch providing solace. “You and Dana are very good at carrying your burdens, but no matter the arrangement, your heart was preparing for you to be a father.” 
His eyes burned. Looking into Maggie staring woefully at him everything seemed very real. The pain cutting through his heart and mind, demanding attention, stinging with every breath he took. 
If Scully couldn’t have a child, then neither could he. The onesies, the star mobile, and the soft yellow blanket would remain tucked in the back of his closet to gather layers of dust. Maggie held out her arms, he bent down to hug her and leaned his head on her shoulder. Her comforting hand stroked his hair and squeezed his back. Breathing in her Wind Song perfume he could almost hear the mediocre wedding band and feel the pain from pinched cheeks telling him how much he had grown. 
She pulled back with a reassuring smile. “Don’t let this get between the two of you, Fox. God is listening and he will provide.”
 Days Later..
 A few drops of crimson on cotton and Scully had to draw back tears. It should not have been a surprise. The natural result of her and Mulder’s attempts. The answer to a prayer. She knew it would arrive eventually, but even though she was expecting it, she wasn’t expecting its symbolism to hurt so much. She was at work, in a cold metal stall of the lady’s restroom. Her body trembled as she sucked in a breath and headed out. There was no reason to get  upset anymore. There was nothing to be done. No baby. A future of great uncertainty.  
When she returned to the office, Mulder lifted his head away from his computer screen. “I’ve been researching reports of a vampiric witch roaming Olympic National Park.”
“Fangs and all?” Scully asked, suddenly amused, and relieved to send her mind elsewhere. That was what she needed, to focus on the work. “Acts like an ordinary person, has no discernible creature features,” Mulder explained and she could hear that underlying excitement. “At night, however,” Mulder said, putting a little sing song for dramatic effect at the end of his voice that put a smile on Scully’s face, “it prowls the graveyards in search of entrails so it can create a libation that allows it to shapeshift. If it cannot get the entrails it needs it hunts the bedrooms of the local townspeople.”
“And local law enforcement? What’s there take on this?”
Mulder picked up a pencil to twiddle between his fingers and propped his feet up on the corner of the desk. “Their take is it’s your run of the mill serial killer that is looking to distract everyone by imitating the myth.”
“Even if a vampire witch did exist, why would it need to shapeshift?”
Mulder sat up in his chair and leaned forward. “Those that believe, think it does so to combat being enslaved… by aliens.” 
Scully stopped reviewing her lab results and lowered the page to get a good look at Mulder to make sure he wasn’t putting her on. 
“I understand your doubts… and if you’re open to it, we could take a trip to Bali,” he suggested and Scully could see the emerald glow in his hazel eyes. “You could bring your snorkel and we could learn the roots of the lore.” Mulder rose from his chair to face her. He cupped her cheek and locked their eyes, gently swiping at the stain from one of the twin tears that had trickled down her face. “We can step away from this case if you’re not ready,” he said in low tones, “There’s another case within driving distance.”
Scully slowly shook her head and took a half step back out of his reach, her eyes lowering from his gaze. She stiffened. It was the first time they had touched since their night together. The first inkling either of them gave that anything at all had transpired between them or about their loss. With nothing left to do or say they just pushed forward. 
“There’s no need to travel to Bali. We’ll do both cases.” She joined his eyes only for a moment, raising the file in her hand. “I need to get these to the lab. There are further tests I’d like them to conduct and while I’m down there they asked for my help. Can you arrange our airfare?”
“Sure,” Mulder murmured  with a concerned look on his face that almost made Scully sprint rather than walk out of the office. All she really needed right now was to work.
 Ten Days Later...
 “Will you be eating tonight?” Mulder asked,  skulking around the back area of the office, rummaging through the cabinets. It was all very curious. Was he looking for something or hiding it?
“What? Yes, of course,” Scully answered, his questions as peculiar as his behavior. She walked over to where he was hovering and placed her notes from the last meeting in her drawer. His stare unnerved her, she could feel the pressure of his question like an overinflated balloon pressing against a bed of nails.
“I was thinking of ordering a pizza and I was thinking that I’ll probably have a few slices left over,” he said, cooly.
“I’m sorry, tonight is not a good night for me.” 
“Okay.” Mulder said, his bottom lip poked out past his top. “Another night.” He walked back to his desk and shook his mouse, taking the screen out of safe mode. Great, he was hurt.
“I’ve decided to start making healthier food choices,” she offered as an alternative excuse. It happened to be true. That and avoiding being with him alone at the late hours of the evening.  
“I can stop at the pet store on my way home. Pick up some rabbit food.”
He wasn’t giving up. She walked around his desk to hand him his summary notes and Mulder minimized his screen. A branding iron couldn’t have made her hotter then what he had been looking at. “No need to hide it. I saw the screen. Research?” she asked, tapping her foot with her hands at her hips.
He rotated the chair so he could look her dead in the eye, crossing his arms. “What if I can track down more vials? What if there is viable ova out there?”
She had been incorrect. A steam engine was hotter, and she could almost feel that steam rising from her ears. “And today you decide to pick up this crusade? You were there through everything that had happened with Emily and you never said a word.”
He ran a hand through his hair and scratched the back of his head. “You’re right.”
“You took that chance away from me.” Red lightning filled her sclera, her irises burning hot blue flames. “Tell me Mulder, have you really asked yourself why you agreed to be my donor?”
Mulder bolted from the chair. His jaw rocked and he lurched forward as if to challenge, but then left the office with her standing there, alone, wrapped in a translucent blanket of uncomfortable silence. 
 
That Night..
Scully’s knuckles dropped three solid thuds against the hard wood. Against all judgement and possessed by what she didn’t know, Scully stood fidgeting, excuses at the ready. She reviewed her apology speech in her head hoping he would forgive her earlier cruelty. The heavy brass deadbolt clanked back into its shell and Mulder’s door rushed open. He initially looked surprised, but as their eyes met, the tension before was replaced with a new heat. Her heart ached from the distance she had created. She needed to feel their impenetrable bond every time their eyes met. He sent a hand through her hair and pulled her into the apartment, kicking the door closed with his foot. Her back slammed against it so hard she lost half her breath. The other half was taken by Mulder as he covered her mouth with his and sucked it away. His long thin muscled body hard against her. His tongue demanding the fire from her body. He tasted like midnight and shadows, mysterious and sublime. The smell of rain, thunder, gunpowder. The Darkness coated them, an old black and white played softly from the television, pulsing its hues around them. Their bodies so immediately intertwined and so caught up in passion the clothes on the lower half of her body peeled off almost by telepathy. The hasty sound of his zipper burned her with desire. With a swift thrust, he was inside her, her nails digging into the soft cotton fabric of his shirt, hoping to withstand the pleasure of his cock hard and heavy, reaching into the most salacious and esoteric parts of her. Mulder was so thick and long that when he pushed all the way into her, she could feel the tip brushing the end of her, demanding even more, while his hard pubic bone pounded against her clit sending shockwaves of its own. He grabbed the curve of her behind and drove steadily into her sleek, tight canal, undulating his hips with solid, rhythmic thrusts. Oh that luxurious wonderous cock. It stretched her wide, and she melded so tight around it. Like everything else on Mulder, lanky and strong-willed and needing of her attention. And what she needed was their raw, rough, passionate connection to take her away from the peril and torment that had quickly become her life. 
Scully strained, desperate to thrust against him, to match his pace, but he had her pinned to the door. Mulder controlled the motion, controlled her pleasure, and she willingly surrendered, loving the devoted look in his eyes, the way his body shook in her arms as he did. The heat of their breaths filling the gaps between them, wrapping them inside a steamy cocoon. They were forgiving the other, caring and desperate to heal. What they both failed to express with words, their bodies could perfectly articulate; making it clear just how badly they yearned for one another. 
Mulder groaned, his fingers gripping hard into the flesh of her ass, pistoning in and out in a quick barrage of strokes. Without warning she skyrocketed to a peak, her muscles clenching and releasing in quick succession as she came hard around him. The sensations kept going, lingering, building again and Scully moaned aloud, the pleasure so intense, almost too much to take. A desperate sound that was almost a growl rose deep in Mulder’s throat and he quickly joined her. How she relished that feeling of him coming, the throbbing contractions at his base, vibrating his shaft to fill her hot and fast. 
He kissed her slowly, gently, his swollen lips brushing over hers again and again, pushing against them so his tongue could caress hers. A smile grew at the corners of his mouth as his lips softly departed. “Did you miss me?” he asked, smug and rhetorically. He headed to the bathroom and called out, “You’re not going to come and go, are you?”
Unbeknownst to him, Scully had already picked up the crumpled clothes at her feet and dressed. She wanted to say something, but she had nothing to say. She didn’t want to discuss it, she just wanted to leave. So she left, Mulder calling her name from the bedroom. She knew she was running from something she had to soon face, but what was she to tell him? That depression filled her the moment it was over until she was drowning in it? That the ineffectual absurdity of the act plummeted down like a cement block tethered to her ankle, sending her deeper towards the bottom until she was unable to see any daylight? The button of the elevator lit as her manicured nail caused it to recede. The floors denoted their names with each illuminated number and Scully’s shoe began to tap as if it might move it along. Nervously, she felt for her keys. When she didn’t feel the cold metal or hear their familiar jingle she checked her other pockets, over and over. Digging and patting. Shit. They must have fallen out on the floor in Mulder’s apartment. The hallway felt as if it had stretched walking back to number 42, her heels rapping a foreboding echo. The loud churning above the groaning radiator pipes she soon realized was the nerves of her stomach. 
The door not yet locked by Mulder, she turned the knob hoping to sneak them out, but Mulder poked his head from the kitchen. “I’m heading to bed, suddenly I’m feeling very drained,” he said, his tongue bulging the side of his right cheek.
Not quite sure how to proceed she followed him into the kitchen and watched him pour himself a glass of water from the faucet. Even though years had passed since his episode of grand hallucinations, he still hesitated right before he let it slide down his throat. He took another glass from the cabinet. “Water?”
Scully shrugged and Mulder filled it. The glass cool in her hand. He left her in the kitchen and paused before opening his bedroom door, turning his head to lock their eyes and send an irresistible electric pulse to her heart. “Coming?”
*
Scully woke to the rising and falling of Mulder’s chest against her back, their breaths falling naturally in unison. They were clasped to each other, Mulder sharing his body heat as easy as he shared his heart. Yet she felt like poison ivy covered her skin, and an invisible belt cinched at her neck. Lately, her eyes fluttered open in the mornings to his embrace or thoughts of him, his work dominated her, every opinion, hypothesis and theory, challenged and cross referenced by his own beliefs, and at night her body craved him, and in her dreams her mind played in a future it dared not venture in the light. Mulder had leaked in every crack and crevice of her life. 
Like a wolverine or stealth fighter jet, Scully stealthily snuck out of Mulder’s apartment without him stirring. By the time she drove across town and showered, she was already late. She picked out another turtleneck sweater, they were both tearing through their collections given their propensities to play Dracula on each other’s neck. Luckily there was never any exsanguinating, just a few bursted capillaries between good friends. Last night she didn’t recall either of them doing an imitation of a Hoover, but she preferred not to take her chances. Shuffling into her coat at 8:50am meant Mulder would have to cover for her if Skinner decided to request their assistance. Before even stepping into the hallway, a newspaper caught her eye. One she did not subscribe, but what grabbed her attention was the photograph and the article about God’s healing power. Down the hallway she scanned, but she was the only one blessed with the paper and no paperboy to thank.
Hours later, Scully returned to the office having met the miracle boy and his family, and the cigarette smoking man looking for a light and salvation. Mulder hadn’t returned, and most likely, if she had to guess, had gotten caught up with The Lone Gunman trying to trace the email address it all had originated from. That probably took them into who knows how many directions and conspiracies. She didn’t pick up the phone to dial Mulder and tell him of the experience she had this morning. Something stopped her. Was it that she wanted to deal with this issue without his overbearing perspective, or that she feared the Smoking Man might hold true to his threat of dying with the technology, or perhaps she was rebelling, their relationship smothering her as she struggled to understand how to live the rest of her life knowing now she would not bear children. 
Not wanting to deal with any of those possibilities, she picked up the phone. Then hung it up. That might not be wise to call him directly if it was a setup. Instead, she traced the number to see for herself where evil resided. 
The Smoking Man had not lied to her about Samantha being dead. Not this time around anyway. She believed him that he was dying after seeing him a few times. Was it that far fetched that at his deathbed he decided to leave those that remained a cure for cancer? Was it that unbelievable that he trusted her with the science and not Mulder? Armed with a wire and a need for her own answers she dialed the phone and left a message on Mulder’s machine full of half truths. It was a family emergency after all. She just didn’t say specifically which side of the family.
Mulder’s voice rang true into her answering machine, beckoning her with throaty emotion. It felt like utter betrayal to leave him in the lurch and plan a weekend getaway with his arch nemesis. It was almost like something outside of her body was driving her.
*
“Hello.” Mrs. Scully answered her phone and Mulder felt the pangs of dread if she didn’t know where Scully really was. The last thing he wanted to do was have her worrying, but he had to know.
“Mrs. Scully,” Mulder replied, “It’s Mu-Fox. How are you?”
“I’m just fine Fox, is everything okay? And please, call me Maggie.”
“Scully had left a message on my answering machine about a family emergency?”
“She did? That’s odd. No. I spoke with her two days ago. I asked her about you, did she tell you?”
“Not yet, but thank you. So you haven’t seen or spoken with Scully yesterday or today?”
“No. Do you think she is in trouble?”
“She didn’t answer her cell phone when I called, but she left a message on my answering machine saying she would be gone for a few days.”
“That is strange. She didn’t tell me anything about it. If I hear from her you’ll be the first to know.”
“It’s just not like her to lie to me.”
“It’s not another man, if that’s what you’re concerned about. There’s only you Fox.”
Mulder chuckled. “Thanks. My mind is at ease.”
“Just give her a little time, she’ll come around.”
“Okay, Maggie. Thanks.”   
 
Two Days Later..
How could she be so naïve? Three whole days. No contact. To discover she willingly went with him . Spent the night. His fists clenched against the steering wheel, he was a time bomb about to explode. He took a breath to calm himself. “Scully, I know you had good intentions.” He sent his tongue hard into his cheek, then wet his lips, shook his head. “I know how convincing he can be.” He gritted his teeth and wrung the plastic at the steering wheel. “I know all about believing his lies. I just- I wish you would have come to me.”
“I already explained to you that I couldn’t.” She looked at him and he nodded, sending his tongue back tight into his cheek. “This was something I felt I had to pursue,” she added, then looked back out the passenger window at the darkening sky. They were only a couple miles from her apartment. A few more traffic lights and they’d be there.
Hm. He squirmed in his seat and fought to keep his cool. “I would imagine. It’s a doctor’s dream to be able to cure any patient.” He paused and stopped himself from rolling his eyes. “For you to have that kind of power. Perhaps he knows you better than I thought he did.”  Mulder breathed in sharply, and held it a few seconds, shaking his head, then spewed, “Then again, you two have been seeing a lot of each other lately.”
Scully sat quietly, crossing her legs so that her back was almost to him. Her eyes were daggers, but she kept them pointed at the window. He instantly regretted his words, but he also couldn’t help but think, what if something irreversible had happened? Dammit he always had to push it. “You said he had inflammation on the brain?” he asked, trying to change the subject. 
Scully’s face softened and she sent her eyes to her lap. “Yes, from the brain surgery. He said he only has months to live. Sounds like the surgery was less than successful.”
“Unless it was too successful,” Mulder added. He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. They should change the subject. “I read the emails between yourself and Cobra. At least The Smoking Man and Cobra. Cobra had quite a crush on you.”
“What?” Now she turned to face him.
“Yes, and the correspondence made it sound as though you might reciprocate.”
“Mulder, I knew nothing..”
“I know.. but for a split second, I almost believed that you did.”
“That must have been difficult.”
Mulder said nothing. Deciding against mentioning that once The Lone Gunman proved her email had been hijacked, his next picture in his mind was her being held against her will. How wrong he had been.  
“Mulder,” Sculled said, laying her hand on top of his, softening his edges. “Why am I still alive?”
He sighed and squeezed her hand. “I really believe the plan was for you to be killed. I think he looked into your eyes and it was just as you said. He longed for something he could never have. You made him a better person.”  He took his eyes off the road to look into her own. “I know how you’re able to do that.” He sighed again and looked up at the sky to see the stars still shining, blurring as his eyes welled up. He wanted to hold her close and push her away simultaneously.
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inscribed-in-asteroids · 4 years ago
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AN: Here’s chapter two!
Title: The Ripple Effect
Characters: Hordak, Entrapta, Odessa, features original characters
Pairing: Entrapdak, features other canon couples (and some fanon)
Rating: M
Read on AO3. It’s always posted there first.
                                                     Evaluation
“You want us to help you… find your dad’s… home planet?” Hydrangea questions.
“Not necessarily that,” Odessa replies. “I’ve been mulling over this the last couple of years. Wandering through space, it’s apparent that my father’s species has predominantly settled into Etherian life. But when I ask my father where we are from, he has no answer.”
“Not in the withholding information way,” Tristan clarifies.
“Exactly. In the sense he has no answer to give. Period. I’ve discussed it with my mother, and she believes it could be an exciting chance to find out where he’s from!” Odessa claps her hands together. “We know about the biology, physiology, mental health, behavior of one person. My father has been studied thoroughly for years, but his makeup can only tell us so much.”
They nod in understanding. It does make sense. He has been genetically manufactured over and over, thousands of versions of him co-existing among species that still have yet to see anything like him before. Hordak has lived among Etherians, has explored world upon world, but they know he is an anomaly. They all do.
Odessa looks down at her hands, an anomaly herself. Her parents have always been supportive of her intellectual pursuits, and this could very well be one of the greatest. She has filled a medical textbook composed of both Entrapta’s research, Hordak’s explanations, and her own observations, theories and notes about how his species operates. But what good is it if it simply applies to a single individual; that’s not applicable to how science or medical practice works.
Hydrangea pours them tea. She knows how determined Odessa can be once she sets her mind to something. There’s no stopping her once her brain gains traction on an idea. Tristan’s set face comprehends this as well.
Tristan speaks first, “When would you like us to begin?”
Odessa smirks, “Soon as you’re done with your drink.”
“Hm, of course you’d say that.”
“Damn right,” Odessa answers.
Hydrangea places her hands on her hips, “Alright, Des. We’ll get going soon as we’re done!”
“Or you could chug your chamomile in one go.”
“No.”
                                                              -
Dryl is etched further into rocky cliffs, its labyrinth excavated deep inside the mountain. Its residents welcome their princess, happy to see her return. Entrapta’s kingdom had been left to its own devices for years, even prior to Entrapta’s departure; yet they view Odessa as the rightful heir, and treat her as such. She supposes it's something to be grateful for, as it does leave them with a place to rest and organize without much interference.
Though she could do without the large paintings of herself lining the walls.
“I never get over how cute you were as a baby,” Hydrangea says, giggling. “Look how chubby you were!”
“You were so adorable,” Tristan gushes. “So innocent.”
“The sweetest little baby,” she continues. “I still want to pinch your itty bitty face!”
“Shut up,” Odessa pouts, blushing. Curse these portraits… and curse their laughter...
“Odessa! Hello, hello!”
Relieved, she turns, smiling at the friendly face, “Hi, Uncle Wrong-Man.”
Crushing her to his chest, he presses their cheeks together, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen my most favorite niece in the world!”
“You’re going to make all the other nieces jealous,” she says. Then smiles, “But it’s true.”
“I can’t help it, you were the first niece I had!”
Back on her feet, Odessa glances at the vicinity. Normally, there’s more of her uncles wandering through the halls. “Where is everyone?”
“Oh, they’re working outside or in the kitchens. We heard you were back and we felt a welcoming party would be fun!”
“You don’t have to throw one every time we come back.”
His eyes turn watery, a sad, morose frown on his features, “Oh… I see… You don’t… like my parties anymore…”
“No, no, that’s not it!” Odessa says, trying to cheer him back up. “I just meant you don’t need to go through all the trouble each visit.”
He looks up at her, ears drooping lower, “Do you like them?”
“Yes, Uncle Wrong-Man, I love your parties,” she insists. “You’re the best at it!”
In seconds, his bubbly personality returns, “Excellent! I look forward to giving you another party suited to your tastes!”
Tristan leans toward Odessa, hand held up to his mouth, “Wow, for a minute I thought I heard violins.”
“He has that dramatic flair to him,” she agrees.
“How have your parents been? I haven’t seen them yet!” W.H. asks.
“Mom and Dad are fine,” Odessa tells him, following him through the halls. The maze has been modified to be easier to map out. The first time she had come here, they had gotten lost since Entrapta couldn’t quite recall where all the secret entrances were. Odessa took it upon herself to make her own layout, and added to it whenever a change had been made. “They went to Beast Island to see how it is there.”
His ears fall for a moment, “Aw, I hope they’ll visit soon!”
“I’m sure they will,” she assures him. “They had some business to conduct over there.”
“In the meantime, what brings you to Dryl?”
“I wanted to talk to you and some of the others regarding your past,” she explains.
W.H. enters the closest kitchen, walking toward the oven. Tucking on mitts, a perplexed expression crosses his features, “Our past? My dearest niece… have you been afflicted by amnesia?”
“No, my memories serve me right,” Odessa says, patient. “I am asking for information regarding where we had come from, as a whole species. What world we originated from, what our culture was like. I had spoken with father about the matter, but he said he didn’t know due to being younger than the rest of you.”
W.H. crosses over to the countertop, removing the cookies onto a cooling rack. He is silent for a few moments, and it is clear he is choosing his words carefully, trying to understand what she’s asking. He turns, a serious mien about him, unusual on his face. “I… I’m not sure, either.”
Odessa walks over to him, “Is it because you were separated from the hivemind?”
“I don’t believe so,” he replies. Folding his arms over his chest, the fact they’re all one person reveals itself in his posture and tone. “We had been created to serve Horde Prime. Nothing more or less. And I do think that I myself had been cloned after your father. He had been Horde Prime’s general as well, and if he didn’t know, one of our elder brothers might have the knowledge you seek.”
Odessa glances at Hydrangea and Tristan, then back to her uncle. “Do you know who would?”
W.H. ponders for a minute. “Hm, no one here, I am certain. The residents of Dryl are like myself—of the younger group, since we have more people skills to associate with the Etherians.”
Hydrangea says, “I always wondered how that worked. Where you were designated and why.”
W.H. nods, “Oh, yes, we put thought into what our new purposes would be. After I helped my brother and sister with Beast Island, I came here to demonstrate how to function with Etherians!”
Tristan walks over to the counter, “Where do you recommend we go, then? Also, can I have one?”
W.H. beams, nodding enthusiastically, “Please do! I am going to make much more. But in regards to your first question, I would suggest visiting family in Mystacore or Beast Island.”
Odessa takes a cookie off the rack as well, munching. Mystacore is closer, so it would be prudent to try there before traveling to Beast Island. There are portals stationed throughout Etheria, but it’ll be worth stopping by Mystacore. She hasn’t seen anyone there at all yet. Although, it’s not as if there are many who live in the clouds, visiting her family there is always exciting.
“Thank you, Uncle Wrong-Man,” Odessa says, reaching up to kiss his cheek. “We’ll head there now!”
“Take some food with you to go,” he insists. In a flash, he’s bagging the cookies into a cellophane sack, tying it with a pink ribbon that shapes into a butterfly. “Healthy meals are important, but so are treats! Otherwise, you get moody.”
Hydrangea and Tristan are handed their own bags, much to their surprised delight. Before Odessa can accompany them out the door, W.H. stops her, giving her another, “Would you mind taking this with you for your cousin?”
Odessa smiles, “I wouldn’t mind at all.”
                                                             -
Hordak and his brothers were categorized not by their clothes, or hair dye choices, but by their eyes. Odessa and her mother had noted the various shades of eye color, their teeth matching them the most; however, inside of their mouths, it adjusts to mimic the change as well, affecting the tongue and beneath it, gums, hard and soft palates, uvula, even extending down to the oropharynx. All her uncles are in good health, and with none of them dead, she can only assume that the change continues down the esophagus. She got it in writing several years ago that, should any be willing to be dissected for scientific purposes, she has a few choices for her study.
Their eye colors are fascinating: while they all reflect light to glow, which is meant to intimidate opponents, she has observed the change serves as behavioral distinction. The lighter the color, the more mellow and passive the personality; the darker or more intense, the more independent and aggressive. A chameleon-like feature, reflecting mood. And, in turn, signifying mental and physical health, as peppier individuals tend to be less plagued by feelings of inadequacy, anger, and low self-esteem. W.H. had his eye color eventually become the joyful chartreuse yellow she’s known since birth, and her father’s returned to their fiery red sometime after the war. This is the one true variation that doesn’t need attire or fanciful hair styles and dyes to show that no matter how alike they are by DNA, they are their own separate people.
So when she teleports to Mystacore, and she finds dark blue eyes staring at her from above, she remembers, quite immediately, that sometimes, darker eye colors don’t indicate low self-esteem but rather, an egregious amount of confidence.
Her uncle jumps down from his perch, landing daintily on his feet. He narrows his eyes, leering, “Odessa… it has been ages since you’ve arrived on Mystacore.”
“Hi, Talon,” Odessa says.
He looks at her friends, “You two are faring well, I hope.”
Hydrangea smiles, “Yes, thank you for asking!”
Tristan nods, “You look good, too, Talon.”
“Indeed,” Talon answers. “It would be a shame if I lost my abilities.”
With that, he throws knives out from his sleeve. Tristan dodges the attack by barreling to the side, somersaulting along the ground. Hydrangea calls up plants from underground, knives embedding into the sides. Odessa leaps into the air, reaching behind her to draw out a handheld bar. With a click, it extends to a staff, and another morphs it quickly into a pilum.
Reeling back her arm, she launches it with full ferocity at Talon. He avoids it, jumping to the left and pulling out more knives, but he aims them at Tristan, who runs toward the nearest fountain to pull water out from its containment. Tristan moves his arms upward, pushing out enough water to create a vertical depth, the knives slowing down as they pierce its surface and float inside.
Odessa tugs her spear out from the dirt, cornering her uncle at the right. Hydrangea pulls plants forward, fingers splayed in the air. From her fingertips, electricity strings across her exoskeleton. Tristan rushes to their side, water sloshing around them, encasing Talon in its center, creating a barrier.
Talon sneers, then bursts out laughing. His stance loosens, standing upright, “Your senses haven’t weakened. Good. I’d be vexed if you squandered my generosity to teach you combat.”
Odessa smirks, minimizing her staff and settling it behind her back, “We wouldn’t do that.”
Hydrangea grins, “Tristan and I do practice on our own.”
Tristan shifts the water back toward its source, then rubs the back of his neck, “Which is great, since there was no holding back from that attack.”
“Enemies don’t show mercy,” Talon says. Adjusting his collar, he nods his head, “But tell me, what brings my niece and her companions to Mystacore?”
Odessa speaks, “I wanted to ask you something.”
“Me?” he replies, curious.
“Yes. It’s about your origins. Uncle Wrong-Man said it might be beneficial to come to Mystacore and question my relatives here.”
Talon raises a brow. He looks up at his home, then addresses the trio, “Are you intending to stay for longer than an hour?”
“Most likely.”
“I will invite you to my home, then. Come. Dinner will be prepared soon, and we may discuss the topic during.”
Accepting this, they head in the direction of his home. An impressive, ornate building that’s three stories high; they tread up wide steps, where one can overlook the weigela bushes lined around the vicinity’s front entrance, a fountain spouting water in the garden’s center, surrounded by lilacs and roses. Cool air wafts over their bodies, welcome from the heat outside. Odessa remarks that the decor has only slightly changed, the furniture taking on silver, blue, and white qualities, polished until they gleam.
Going to the stairs, Talon nods at them, “Make yourselves at home. As usual, do not break anything. I will see you at dinner promptly.”
Once he’s gone, Hydrangea chuckles, “He’s still intense.”
“He’s gonna kill us one day,” Tristan sighs.
Odessa pats his shoulder, “Only if we let him.”
He lips thin out, “Not reassuring, Des.”
Climbing the steps, they decide to wait until they are called, and opt to entertain themselves by bothering someone else.
                                                             -
Magic radiates within the room, energy felt even behind the door. Odessa carefully pushes it open, seeing a slim figure move around. Putting a finger to her lips, she leads her friends into her cousin’s quarters. His face is stern, staring at the spell hovering over the ground at shoulder height.
Hydrangea sits quietly on a cushion on the floor, and Tristan does the same. Odessa leans against the wall, and they all watch. Eon is her cousin, and their similarities begin and end with their fathers having chosen Etherian women as their partners. He differs from her, and any other potential cousin, by having the capability to do magic. Real, Etherian magic.
Eon takes measured breathing, focusing on the spell. It elongates toward the ceiling and floor, then narrows to a thin line. Reaching for it, he plucks it with his forefinger. It snaps, and a discordant sound follows, uncomfortable and shrill. Hydrangea and Tristan cover their ears, as Odessa winces.
Eon looks at them, brow raised. He grins, “Did you all enjoy the show?”
“We did, until that,” Hydrangea complains, glaring at him. She frowns, lightly slapping her ears, “Aw no, there’s some ringing!”
“It’ll pass in a few moments,” Eon explains. “Besides, you three coming into my room unannounced and unwelcome deserves a bit of retribution.”
“By popping our eardrums?” Tristan asks, deadpan.
“Exactly,” Eon says, one hand on his hip. He turns to Odessa, and smiles. “You’re here sooner than expected.”
“I believe we arrived on time,” she answers, grinning back. She hasn’t seen him for a while, but he has gotten taller since then. He takes after their species' propensity for large heights, but she knows he’s grown a few inches and might continue to grow for the next couple of years as well.
Eon begins putting away his spellbook and notes, arranging them neatly, “What are the three of you doing here? With you on Etheria, you normally visit me later on your returns.”
“I came to ask your father some questions, but then he invited us to dinner.”
“He can be standoffish, but oddly enough, never when it comes to hosting meals.”
Hydrangea sits up, “We got into a sparring session with him right away too.”
Eon joins them on the floor, one knee bent to prop up an arm, “I had mine early this morning. You know him, he’s never done with training.”
Crossing outstretched legs, Tristan reclines against the wall, “Your parents don’t let up, huh?”
“No, but I head to my place at Bright Moon later in the month. I check in biweekly to continue my sparring and magic training, then head back and repeat.”
“That’s a lot of back and forth,” Hydrangea adds, holding a pillow to her chest.
Shrugging, Eon says, “I don’t mind. Keeps me busy.”
Odessa chuckles lightly, taking a seat beside Tristan, “For being super busy, Uncle Wrong-Man said to give you this.” Pulling out the bag, she tosses it to him.
Eon catches it deftly, a quiet ‘yes’ of triumph leaving his lips. His diet is strict when he’s with his parents, for optimal nutrition and betterment. But he has a sweet tooth that rivals Odessa and Entrapta, thus any opportunity to consume sugar is taken. Using a levitation spell, he has it placed atop his desk, and an invisibility spell follows after, keeping it from view.
“Won’t your parents find it? It’s not like you can’t smell cookies,” Odessa states.
“I’ll say it was one of you.”
Hydrangea laughs, “I don’t think they’ll be entirely fooled by that.”
“If not, that’s fine by me too,” Eon says. “I let them think they’re savvier than myself.”
Tristan smirks, “How often has that worked?”
“More than for you,” Eon says, smirking back.
Odessa and Hydrangea whoop at Tristan, who laughs in good humor.
Stretching his arms up and to the side, Eon turns to his cousin, “How did the last journey go?”
“It went as planned. We went to Pilan, and my parents found what they needed for research.”
“And you two?” he asks, addressing the others.
Hydrangea lays on her stomach, drawing circles on the pillow, “Hm… my moms have started taking me to council meetings, which is interesting. We had a gathering with some of the leaders in Plumeria that are helping to manage its growing space. And New Chelicerata has been thriving for years now, since we removed all the machinery in the Fright Zone and expanded it into the Flower Field.”
“Not all the toxins have been removed, I’m assuming.”
“Some of the groundwater had been too polluted, and it leaked into larger bodies of water, but, as a whole, we started seeing real progress six years ago.”
“I’ve been helping the residents there by removing water too far gone,” Tristan adds. “We’ve been separating them into larger containers as instructed, and we’re hoping that newer technology from Entrapta and Hordak will yield positive results in another decade or so.”
“Even if it’s slow, progression is always good.”
Odessa glances to her left, letting her mind drift. Time doesn’t pass by the same when traveling through space. She watches her mother age, while her father stays the same, and that’s the extent of how often she pays attention to the changes happening around her. It’s not from ignorance, but from not giving too much thought to it, even with the years she has spent returning to Etheria to evaluate and aid her people here.
Settling against Tristan, Odessa yawns. He keeps his body still as she falls asleep, finding their chatter relaxing. Dinner will arrive sooner if she’s napping. Even closing her eyes is enough for her body to rest, breathing quietly as she listens to them discuss any topic they happen upon.
Her friends are interrupted mid-conversation, a knock at the door grabbing their attention. Odessa opens an eye. The housekeeper bows her head, addressing Eon, “Your parents are waiting for you in the dining room. Please, follow me.”
                                                              -
Odessa knows her uncle, Talon, is a force to be reckoned with in combat, but her aunt, Nyxia, is a woman with severe features and a severer personality. If there was ever given a choice between fighting him or her, they may have to weigh their options a little more carefully.
She is seated next to Eon, with Hydrangea and Tristan placed across from them. Odessa leans toward her cousin, “Did Nyxia poison the food this time?”
Eon shakes his head, “Maybe Tristan’s.”
Tristan bawks, “Hey!”
Waving his hand, Eon smiles, “I’m teasing. It’s more than likely Hydrangea.”
“What?!” she demands, worried.
“You two are making this easy,” Eon grins, shaking his head. “Really, after all this time, you continue to doubt my parents’ hospitality.”
“I haven’t seen your mom in a while, okay? I wouldn’t know if I offended her last time,” Hydrangea breathes out, leaning back in her chair.
Ear twitching, Odessa catches the sound of footfalls, her aunt coming into view from the corridor, chin-length, violet hair framing lithe, dark features, gown flowing behind her. Definitely not a person to be out of line around.
But that only applies to non-relatives.
Nyxia smiles warmly at her niece, “Odessa! My charming girl, how have you been?”
“Wonderful, Aunt Nyxia, thank you,” Odessa replies, nodding her head in respect.
“Excellent. I heard all of you did well in your impromptu session with my husband earlier,” she says, making her way to the other end of the table. Standing beside her chair, she looks at her son’s other friends, “Talon remarked that you’ve improved considerably.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Hydrangea and Tristan reply at once.
Talon comes from the opposite corridor, walking toward Nyxia. Pulling out the chair for her and sliding it beneath, he moves to the other end and takes his place at the head. The staff bring out their meal: roasted pheasants and potatoes, slathered in its drippings, with baked seasoned vegetables on the side. Wine is served to all of them, as Nyxia and Talon are lax in this department of child-rearing, though the option to have different beverages is always available. Odessa requests her usual fizzy drink, as Hydrangea asks for lemon water. Tristan and Eon have no qualms with the choice displayed in front of them.
“Smells delicious, Miss Nyxia,” Hydrangea compliments.
“Thank you, my dear,” she answers, laying a cloth on her lap. “When I heard you three were in Mystacore, I chose to make this instead.”
Odessa and Eon twiddle each other’s fingers under the table, a silent ‘fuck yeah’ to the change in menu. Nyxia is a phenomenal chef, but she abhors cooking. The usual staff do lovely work, except they are meant to keep things simple, clean, and balanced. Nyxia, despite agreeing with her husband on meal preparation, manages to create rich, satisfying food each time. Normally, when Odessa and her family are visiting.
Relishing this opportunity, Eon cuts into his pheasant, stabbing a portion of potato with it, melting on his tongue. Trying not to pretend-weep. Or actually weep.
“What was your question, Odessa?” Talon asks, swirling the wine in its glass. “It’s not like you to come without your parents.”
Dabbing her mouth, Odessa looks at him, “I wanted to ask you questions about your time serving as a soldier for Prime.”
He doesn’t break the smooth motion of his wrist, not minding that part of his life, “Yes?”
“I was told that older clones might have information regarding our origins. A life before Prime sought out to conquer the universe. My father and W.H. are too young to remember, or were never privy to it. You’re one of the eldest, so I figured to come here before heading to Beast Island.”
Talon sets down his glass, lifting his fork and knife. He takes a bite of his food, chewing quietly. Swallowing, he says, “I will be blunt: it is not possible to know such a thing. Our purpose, our life, was to do Prime’s bidding.”
“There isn’t anything you can think of?”
Talon mulls the question, glancing up at his wife, then back to the plate. He narrows his eyes, and they flicker to an even darker shade of blue for a fraction of a moment. He gives a minute shake of his head, imperceptible to all but his wife.
Odessa waits for him to speak, slipping out her recorder with a strand of hair.
“I… cannot remember a time before Horde Prime. There was only war. Ravaged lands, and screaming,” he leans forward. He meets his niece’s gaze, “You might have to go to Beast Island for your answers, though I do not trust they will know more. Many of us have been alive for decades, but not millennia.”
“Is there a reason for that?” Tristan wonders. “The hivemind was the source of connection. Did you lose memories once it left?”
“No, it doesn’t seem to be that way,” Talon answers, sipping his drink. “It’s more… you have recollections, starting from the present. And it continues backwards until it stops. A wall in your head, which is the moment of when we, for lack of a better word, are ‘born.’ From what I’ve gathered, raising Eon, and observing all of you growing up, an infant that develops naturally can have memories that are faint—both in sensation and imagery, and the mind’s eye develops scenarios of what could’ve happened. Piecing puzzles in your memory banks. Attempting to make sense of your childhood and surroundings, and it even causes you to feel certain emotions into adulthood on a subconscious level. For us, and my brothers, there is no guesswork. There is the instant of emerging from the vitrine, and from there it goes on. Our memories are crystal clear, and gaps do not occur. If we feel emotion, it’s from direct experiences, not preconceived ideas of maybe how we experienced living. The hivemind being removed made us how we are now, but its absence didn’t seem to affect anything else.”
“Fascinating,” Odessa says, forgetting her meal. “So, you remember everything?”
“Yes. It would seem my brothers and I recall memories at greater capacities than most.”
“Would you say you have photographic memory?” Hydrangea asks, leaning forward.
“Our superior intellect allows us to retain knowledge quicker, and we remember things for longer, but a true photographic memory isn’t an aspect we have considered.”
Nyxia cuts into her pheasant, “It’s not unlikely. Your brothers and you have shown an uncanny ability to remember things more greatly than Etherians. It might be prudent to research it further, wouldn’t you say?”
Nodding in agreement, Odessa would not rule it out. She’ll discuss it with her mother for an unbiased opinion later.
Dinner finishes with chiffon cake and fruit, leaving guests and hosts satisfied. Talon and Nyxia wave at the door, as Eon walks them to the portal.
“It was good to see you all,” Hydrangea says, turning to Eon. She clasps his hands, “You should visit more!”
Eon blushes slightly, still not used to open demeanors, “I’ll try to make an effort.”
Tristan pats his shoulder, “You have to get out more. Between you and Odessa, I don’t know who’s more of the hermit.”
“It’s definitely me,” Eon replies. “Odessa’s too needy.”
Punching him in the arm, Odessa gives a side-hug right after. She and her friends step onto the portal, “I’ll drop by again soon! And visit my parents sometime, dumbass.”
He flips her off, smirking.
Hopping through the portal, they arrive in Plumeria, where she bids goodbye to her friends. Then, she heads to Beast Island.
                                                               -
“Odessa! My little cupcake, how was your trip to Mystacore?” Entrapta asks. Imp, crawling around on the walls, chirps his greetings with Emily beeping at her return.
“It was very interesting,” Odessa says, pulling out her recorder. “Would you like to listen with me?”
“You bet!” Entrapta shouts, sidling over to sit on her hair. Odessa takes a proffered seat before playing back the conversation at dinner. She listens with rapt attention, the two of them quiet. Afterward, Entrapta grins, “That was fascinating! I had noticed that your relatives tend to be more affluent with recollection than most, but this requires more study.”
“Do you think there is a possibility that they have photographic memory?”
“We won’t know unless we test the hypothesis,” Entrapta turns to her daughter, grinning wide. “You know what that means!”
Odessa grins wide too, saying it with her.
“Time to experiment!”
                                                               -
Odessa and Entrapta had to decide what and how to measure. The test is simple on paper, but part of the reason memory tests can be difficult is due to fallibility of nature. Recalling a memory does not equate accuracy. They also had to take into account that Etherian children were more susceptible to false memories, which could affect them as adults, hence, why Talon said that there’s no guesswork for his brothers and himself. And when it came to the ethics, Entrapta reminded Odessa that it’s part of experimentation, much to the latter’s chagrin. Odessa would’ve followed, regardless, but she’s more determined to see things through without obstacles.
A lack of true full-blooded children for Hordak’s species, and Eon and Odessa were not little anymore, that wasn’t necessary to entertain. However, Odessa and Entrapta believed it would be prudent to test the memory of Eon and any other hybrid cousins simultaneously to the Etherian and Horde groups, sans Odessa.
After deliberating, they chose to experiment by gathering Etherians between the ages of 15-50, to cover the age bases of both Etherian teens and adults, hybrid offspring, and Horde descendants. After age 14, correct absolute judgments and relative judgments have better succession rates and are not as affected by false positives. With this in mind, Odessa sends out a mass message asking if anyone would like to be part of a study.
She receives her answers quickly from her uncles, who would be more than delighted to aid her in any quest. She splits them into four groups, Group A, B, C and D. To accommodate for the choice in subjects, they will be separated into three sections, Etherians being the first, hybrids the second, and her uncles will be the third subsect. Over the course of the week, she receives the rest of her subjects at Beast Island.
Tristan and Hydrangea are the first to arrive, looking forward to spending time with her and her family in the meantime. Hydrangea gives Emily and Imp hugs and kisses, cooing over them incessantly. Imp clings to Hydrangea’s neck, completely at ease.
Tristan pats Emily’s surface, smiling at her beeps, “It’s good to see you too.”
She beeps even louder and harder, spinning around in place.
Entrapta grins, “Aw, you made her day!”
“No one else is my favorite robot, are they, Ems?” Tristan asks. She spins again, and the whirring becomes softer, almost shy.
Odessa nudges his ribs, “Great, my sister has a crush on you.”
Tristan rolls his eyes, smiling.
Odessa peers at his face, “Hey, you shaved!”
“Yeah, you were right. It was horrible,” Tristan remarks.
“You look better this way,” Odessa affirms, pinching his cheek, and he lightly whacks her fingers away.
Scorpia comes a moment later, and immediately bolts over to them all. Once the hugs are done, Scorpia and Entrapta discuss things on their own. Entrapta settles into the crook of Hordak’s arm, resting easily over her shoulders. Scorpia gushes over how cute they are. Hordak humphs in disdain, despite the blush on his cheeks.
Another five minutes pass and the portal hums. Catra, Adora, and two of their children come through.
Odessa sighs. Not looking forward to having some of them here. But she smiles, walking to Adora, “Hi! Thanks for coming.”
Adora smiles, giving Odessa a warm hug. She pulls back, holding her at arm’s length, “It’s no problem. We’re glad to help! You’ve gotten taller.”
“You’ve definitely sprouted more than we thought. I remember when you were knee-high,” Catra says. “You were the worst ankle-biter in Etheria.”
Odessa teases, “Still am.”
Laughing, Catra pats her back, walking hand in hand with Adora to their friends.
Her smile falters after that, though she manages to keep it in place. If Catra and Adora weren’t there, she wouldn’t hide her contempt or indifference.
They have four children in total. Quadruplets in fact. All a year younger than her at 15. Two of them, Clawdeen and Marlena, tend to spend their time in Bright Moon, and she has no opinion of them other than they’re not her sort of people. Well, that’s not true. They’re surprisingly elitist and refuse to associate with anyone they find unworthy of their time. They mind their business enough, however, so Odessa doesn’t pay them attention.
Barely coming to five feet tall, Molly is one of the children here today, a skittish, timid thing; the runt of her litter. She inherited Catra’s heterochromia, one eye blue, the other green, and that’s the one interesting thing about her. She stands, unsure, by the portal. Her appearance here is odd, since she tends to be alone. Odessa doesn’t hate her, or even dislike her, but the girl’s meekness doesn’t make her striking enough to have an opinion on either.
Adam, their one son, is another story. His eyes are bright blue, and slightly jarring in the feline face. The opposite of Molly, he is loud, prone to temper tantrums, and his temerity leaves much to be desired. She prefers the company of confident, open people, but he’s, without a doubt, the most obnoxious fucker she’s ever had the misfortune of knowing.
His eyes, the only one to resemble Adora’s, land on hers, and he leaps over, grinning. Placing an arm on her shoulder, leaning, he says, “Yooooo, what’s up, girl?”
Odessa turns to him, narrowing her eyes, “Please don’t take my smile for welcome, you complete ass.”
“Ooh, baby, you need to chill,” Adam says, poking her nose.
“Try that one more time and I’ll bite it off.”
He winks, “That a promise, thottie from space?”
Odessa smiles wider, eyes flashing, “It’s a threat, you parasitic fool.”
Sensing her growing irritation, her friends bound over. Hydrangea waves at Adam, “Hey! We haven’t seen you in a long time. How’ve you been?”
Adam turns to her, “Hey, Dragon Fruit! You know how I be—taking care of all this,” Adam gestures to his thin body, puffing out his chest. “What you been up to lately? Those flower braids are doing everything for your look.”
Hydrangea urges him to walk far, far, far, far away from Odessa’s area.
Rubbing her temples, Odessa takes a breath.
Tristan rubs her back, “Remember, Des: think of the experiment.”
Odessa nods at him. Science. Her one true refuge. “I know. It’s a little… irritating that he’s here. But I’m sure that empty-headed dolt will yield some results for me.”
Tristan smiles at her, ensuring she doesn’t lose her cool. Once he’s sure she won’t murder, he looks at Molly, “Hi! I didn’t think I’d see you here.”
Molly brushes hair away, looking briefly at the ground before addressing him. “Yeah… Um, my moms thought it would be cool to take one or two of us. To help Odessa out.”
Odessa shakes her head, “So glad about that.”
“Um… I’m sorry about Adam...” Molly starts.
“It’s fine,” Odessa replies, focusing back on her clipboard, walking away.
Sighing, Molly bites her lower lip, feeling uneasy.
Noticing that, Tristan smiles at Molly, “Come on. We can wait over here.”
“Sorry you’re stuck with me,” she mumbles.
“I’m not stuck with you,” Tristan answers. He leads her to an unoccupied stone ledge, the occasional pooka darting across it. “Though, I didn’t think this was your sort of thing.”
“It isn’t. I don’t really want to be here,” Molly answers, pulling her legs to her chest.
“It might be fun, right?” Tristan asks.
Shrugging, Molly places her chin onto her hands.
They both watch the portal light up, a plethora of clones marching through. It has to pause for a brief moment, then it continues to spew individuals out of it. Tristan glances down at Molly, knowing there’s no point in attempting to converse. The silence doesn’t bother him, and she seems to take more comfort out of not having to make dreadful small talk. He hates it too, so this works.
Eon and his parents eventually pass through. Waving at him, Tristan reclines in his seat, “You and your folks actually came. I didn’t think any of you left the house.”
Standing with his arms behind his back, at ease, Eon smirks, “You’re all lucky we don’t come out more often.”
Tristan sticks his tongue out at him. He gestures to his left, “You remember Molly?”
Eon looks down at her, “Yes, we have met before. Nice to see you again.”
Molly flushes, turning away, “Nice to see you too…”
He glances at Tristan, who gives a one-shoulder shrug.
She keeps quiet, looking at the people around her. Hordak and his brothers all stand out as one unit, and other cousins similar to Eon slowly arrive. Not as large in number, with more variation than Hordak’s species but less than natives. She watches Etherians coming forth as well, and doesn’t wave or acknowledge them. Hoping to blend with the background, she scoots further away, sinking behind Tristan.
Tristan notes her discomfort and doesn’t move.
Eon, however, waves at some relatives, who rush over to greet him.
Molly frowns, accepting her fate. She takes to watching Eon speak with his family, his tall, sleek body impressive even among those similar to him in build. His hair, cropped shorter at the sides, falls in front of his forehead, a darker hue than his cousin Odessa. His eyes are a lovely shade, bordering on magenta with a stronger red tint, the sclera an equally pretty color, lighter than his irises. His usual confident smirk remains on his face throughout, bright, sharp teeth against the usual backdrop of pale face with the sides of his cheekbones and neck becoming a shock of dark blue or purple. It seems to be a common male trait, since Odessa’s face is white all around, but she isn’t sure. She doesn’t see the other cousins close enough to tell.
She spies Odessa wandering with her device, either barking orders or quietly checking off things. Long, lilac hair floats behind her when not in use, her frame just as slim and tight as the others, and inheriting a tall height seems to be the norm for them. Despite her gorgeous features, Molly finds it interesting, also intimidating, how much redder Odessa’s eyes and sclera are compared to Eon’s.
Hydrangea is speaking with Odessa now, platinum blonde hair brushing against her body, falling in the softest of waves to the small of her back. Her lithe frame befits the gentler, kinder nature she has, which isn’t surprising considering who her parents are. But there’s that powerful change in limb, her arms spiking at the shoulder in dark red, the skin of her arms mottled with it, until it reaches her elbows, where it spikes again, hardens, forming another patch of chitinous skin that reaches her fingertips, claws neatly filed down. And then there’s the tail, shorter, but as potent as Scorpia’s. Deadly and graceful.
She looks up at Tristan, beautiful, brown eyes staring off to the distance. Long lashes frame them, delicate yet full. His hands rest lightly over his knees, fingernails painted black. Hair reaching the end of his neck, lightly touching muscular shoulders, it enriches brown skin with its color, more than a mere dark purple. It’s the color of wine in the dark, of a gorgeous night as the last remnants of light dash away. The blue of his clothes highlight everything further, lavish gold trim clashing against the bright colors, revealing every taut muscle without meaning to, and she traces the curve of his spine with her eyes.
She feels a gaze on her, and finds her brother staring at her from a distance. Molly, snapping from her reverie, darts her sight to the ground. Unaware of Tristan looking in her direction.
Once enough participants have arrived, Odessa claps her hands, “Alright, people! Listen up: I have divided you all into the following groups. Step up this way, where I will assign you all with a place to go to.”
Adam bounds up out of nowhere, whispering, “Can whatever group I’m in be called Team Sexy?”
Odessa ignores him, “Let’s begin, shall we?”
                                                               -
                                                    HYDRANGEA
                                                        Age: 15
                                                Species: Etherian
“Alright,” Odessa says. “I’m going to show you 10 pictures. You will have seven seconds to absorb all the details for them, and afterward, I will ask you one simple question about what you can remember.”
“You got it!” Hydrangea sits in her chair, comfortable. “Sounds easy enough.”
Odessa smiles, “Here’s your first one.”
She holds up a simple image of table mats atop a wooden surface, decorated with plates of breakfast foods, drinks, and fresh fruits.
“Okay, ready for the question?”
“Yep!”
“What fruits topped the waffles?”
“Oh, um… berries and apples?”
Writing it down, Odessa proceeds with the next image.
                                                      TRISTAN
                                                       Age: 17
                                               Species: Etherian
“Hello!” Entrapta says, bringing him in. “I’m going to show you 10 pictures for less than 10 seconds each, and you’ll let me know what you remember.”
“Sure thing,” Tristan replies, sitting upright.
She pulls out an image of miscellaneous items and personal effects on a desk, three photographs in the middle, a drawing in one of the corners, a grey notebook, and a folder with intricate patterns.
“Okay, ready for the question?”
“Yes.”
“Were there tickets on the table?”
Tristan mulls his answers for a moment, “No.”
                                                        MOLLY
                                                        Age: 15
                                                Species: Etherian
Odessa approaches the girl, relieved that she doesn’t have to deal with the handful that was her brother. She looks at Molly, “I’m going to hold up 10 pictures for you, and you will have seven seconds to absorb the image. Afterward, I will ask you questions.”
“Alright,” Molly nods, nails clicking against each other.
The image is of a mountain peak, glinting from the light; the moon shines above it, and a trip of hoofed animals moving along its surface.
“What was the total number of baby goats in the image?”
Molly thinks over the total, and says, “Five.”
ADAM
Age: 15
Species: Etherian
Entrapta comes into the room, “Hello! I’m going to be showing you some pictures—”
Adam interrupts her, “Is this going to take long?”
“Nope! It takes less than five minutes for this segment to be complet—”
“Do we get paid to do this?”
“...No.”
Scratching his nose, Adam leans back in his chair, “Got it, got it. Lay it on me, girl!”
Entrapta smiles, “Great! So, I have 10 pictures and I will show them to you for about seven seconds. I will ask you questions after each one about what you saw.”
“Question real quick: is this one of those tests that explain anything about your psychosis?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it gonna tell me anything, like, am I gonna learn about who is the most likely to be a murderer or nymphomaniac?”
Raising a brow at him, Entrapta says, “I can’t divulge too much about the study to participants. But this is not that kind of test.”
“Aw… okay,” Adam shifts back further in his seat, lifting the front legs from the ground. “Well, that’s less fun.”
Entrapta proceeds to bring out a picture: a series of potted plants are lined on shelves, different heights and colors smashed closely together in the frame, their pots not resembling the others save for a few.
“What was the centre motif for the pots?”
Adam scratches his chin, “Frog, I think.”
                                                         EON
                                                       Age: 18
                                          Species: Etherian and ?
Odessa approaches her cousin, sitting relaxed in the seat. She had gone through the first ten pictures with him already. She glances at him, “Are you ready to continue with the process?”
“Whatever this study is, I’m assuming that you need me to come back again for another trial run.”
“Yes, you will be returning a few times after today to aid in the study, as per your agreement on the written form.”
“Of course.”
“You went through the first half, and you’re going to begin the second half now. This is slightly different,” Odessa explains. Instead of photographs, she holds up a pad, similar in size and weight to her telecommunicator. “I am going to hold up one image: a grid of white and black squares. Then, I will show you a second image, of the same number of squares on the grid; however, you will choose the one square you believe was white in both image one and image two. Image three will have the grids with numbers in the squares instead for you to pick. The amount of time will be the same, seven seconds. There are four levels of difficulty, and you will proceed until we reach the last level.”
Nodding, Eon watches her lift the screen to his eyes. A grid of white and black appears, and he keeps in mind which are white only. The second image appears. Then the third. He makes his decision. He will not know if he is right, as the data is processed within for the researchers alone.
Odessa keeps her face neutral the entire time, intrigued at what this part of the test will yield from everyone else.
                                                          TALON
        Age: approx. 90 (total) | approx. 52 (mental) | approx. 52 (physiological)
                                                        Species: ?
Entrapta smiles, “We do appreciate you helping with the test.”
“It is no trouble,” Talon states. “You and my niece are a select few that do not leave me…”
“Irritated?”
“We’ll use that word.”
Entrapta approaches her brother-in-law, setting herself down on swathes of hair, “Are you ready for the second half of the test?”
“Yes. By all means, little sister, proceed.”
“Excellent! I’m going to show you a grid with black and white squares. Another image will appear after on the device. The number of squares will not change, however, you have to decide what is the one square that remained white. You will pick that in the third image, where the squares will all be numbered.”
“Understood. You may show me the first image.”
                                                            W.H.
        Age: approx. 40 (total) | approx. 23 (mental) | approx. 27 (physiological)
                                                       Species: ?
“This must be exciting for you, isn’t it?” W.H. asks. “You haven’t done a study like this in a while.”
Readying the pad, she nods, “It has been a few years since I’ve conducted anything in this manner.”
“I still remember when you were little, and you insisted on having your first experiment be a methane explosion. You were so cute!”
Odessa smiles, “Speaking of memory, we’re going to begin the second half of the test. You will have the same amount of time to memorize the image on screen. Another will follow right after, and your task is to choose which square on the grid remained white. The image will be your selection on a numbered grid.”
“Sounds fun!”
Holding it up for him, Odessa watches his eyes stay in place, focused. A flicker to indicate change on the screen, then another before he makes his decision.
                                                        HORDAK
        Age: approx. 56 (total) | approx. 57 (mental) | approx. 35 (physiological)
                                                        Species: ?
Entrapta can’t help but smile at him, “Thanks for helping, Lab Partner!”
Hordak smiles back, rising from the chair, “Of course. The experiment seems to be going well.”
“It’s been so fascinating!” Entrapta lifts herself up in the air, at his height. “Everyone has been super helpful, even when they’re rambling about their own assumptions!”
“Who was rambling?”
“One of Catra’s kids—the boy. He was very interesting when he talked, but I had to stay focused! We’re collecting so much data… Odessa is going to be ecstatic!”
Happy to see her in good spirits, Hordak leans forward, kissing her cheek, “When you’re done, I will be waiting for you in our room.”
Entrapta waggles her eyebrows at him, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Ooh! Is this about that new maneuver you wanted to show me?”
“We’ll see if your memory serves you just as well tonight,” Hordak smirks.
Squealing, Entrapta kicks her legs behind her, pecking his mouth with her own. “Can’t wait!”
                                                               -
The results, overall, took two months to compile through the data machine and to check back in with the participants. None of the groups had different numbers, pictures, objects, or words. Odessa and Entrapta tested everyone on their eidetic and photographic memory ability. Group A had no distractions, Group B had Etherians with distractions only, Group C was where her cousins had the disturbances, and Group D it was her uncles with diversions.
When it came to eidetic memory, the numbers didn’t vary too much. But the photographic memory yielded noteworthy results. Each group was brought back a month after being tested to see if they could recall things better. A few Etherians showed some promising ability for it, but overall it wasn’t strong. Her cousins showed stronger signs for photographic memory, Eon being one of the best candidates.
But her uncles were nearly at a 97% rate of accuracy. Talon and W.H. showed an adeptness for remembering things weeks later. Hordak was somewhere in the middle. She wonders why.
“Mom,” she says, holding the charts in her hair. “I know that photographic memory is rare, but these numbers are unreal.”
“I know! The majority of your relatives have a knack for it! That’s so fascinating.”
“I have a theory that it might be due to the hivemind, and perhaps the military training they underwent. It would make sense why they have such capability, even two decades later,” Odessa says. She pulls another chart toward them, tapping her forefinger in quick successions behind it. “It may or may not be that, since we’re not certain of Dad’s origins, but it would explain aspects of it.”
Entrapta’s hair moves her behind her daughter, peering over her shoulder, “It may. I saw that Wrong Hordak was remarkable with photographic memory, and Talon as well.”
“I believe it’s possible that it might be due to neither having depressive episodes. It may have been a group study, but I saw that clones similar to Dad in terms of mental health had a tendency toward memory loss or confusion. It’s not as often or strong as Etherians, or a couple of my cousins, but it’s there. Brains are brains after all.”
“It is exceptional to write this in our records. I wish we had more examples to go by,” Entrapta says. She smiles, “I think it says quite a lot when you compare it to Etherians and your cousins, though.”
“I do find this riveting. Even if it’s Dad cloned thousands of times, there’s something in their brains, their minds, that can provide clues to them as a whole. It’d be prudent to conduct more research, but I’d like to begin as soon as possible, and I can add notes as I go along.”
Entrapta pats her daughter’s head, “And now that you have this information, what do you intend to do with it?”
Odessa looks up at her mother, then back at the data. “I’m going to have Tris and Gea come with me on a little field trip.”
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groggycascade · 5 years ago
Text
Breaker Campus - Frosh Week, Pt. II
All credit to Sean D. 
Kelly, Sarah and Beth walked over to the next station. There was little doubt in their mind about what "Handball" would entail. They giggled. "Can I ask you girls something?" Said Sarah.
"Sure" they replied. "Do you get wet when you rack a guy?" Beth replied without hesitation. "Oh absolutely." Kelly had been too caught up with all the different feelings coursing through her body to really think about it. But there was no doubt she felt a heavenly feeling of elation. "Yeah, I suppose it does turn me on," she said, as much to herself as to the others. The girls approached the next station, which was inside the campus clinic. This one was managed by Dr. Carla, a medical doctor who taught courses at the campus and ran its clinic. "Cool," said Beth, looking around at all the technology. For her part, Sarah noticed that all the boys were completely naked. And they were connected to monitors. The girls sized up all of their packages. Having been turned on from the last station, Sarah wanted to simultaneously ride them hard while also smashing their balls into smithereens. "That one's mine,"'said Kelly, who was thinking something else. She wanted the biggest pair of juicy nuts to torment. "Ladies," she said, ignoring the boys present as Professor Smith had done at the last station. "Welcome to my lab. You are going to assist me in furthering my research. I would not expect any of you to be familiar with my work because until recently taking my position at this college, my work was classified. Suffice to say that I helped our country get the information it needs to keep itself safe from the bad guys - and she stressed the word GUYS. I am a leading expert on the testicles, having conducted hundreds of... experiments. And last, and certainly not unrelated to the other two, I am an expert in the study of pain. She smiled and the girls all giggled along. "So cool," said Beth. "I want her job." Doctor Carla slipped on a white latex glove. Well it was sort of a latex glove but looked different. She explained. "You see that there are these ovals on the finger tips. These are a group of tiny sensors" - each oval was made up of many small dots that were each a small sensor. "When I press my fingers together like this" she pressed them, "this monitor here records the amount of pressure being exerted." She looked over to the boys, who were standing with their hands handcuffed behind their backs. They had straps around their chests holding them to the wall. They each had some cables connected to them and monitors beside each of them. "This is to monitor their pulse, blood pressure, and rate of breathing." She grabbed a camera sitting on a swivel arm and brought it down to the level of one of the boy's testicles. "Aah" he said as he flinched in fear. "Haha, calm down young man, I haven't even touched you - yet." There was now an additional image on the monitor. As plain as day, two orbs. The camera was working like an ultrasound or CT scanner. The girls were all mesmerized to actually be seeing his testicles inside the sac. Doctor Carla slapped on another glove and rubbed her hands together. "Now, a short demonstration." She put her thumb and forefinger from each hand on his dangling gonads. "Now, we start out with some light pressure." "Boy, tell me what you feel." "Uh, err," the boy stuttered. What should he say? She literally had him by the balls. "This is important for my research boy, you should tell me what it feels like." "Well, it is uncomfortable. There's this dull ache in my abdomen." "Do you feel any pain directly on your testicles?" "No." "Ladies, that dull ache is being caused by nerve strands running from his testicles into his abdomen. With a strong enough force applied to their testicles, this is why you may have seen some boys throw up." "Eeeeehhhh!!!!" A high pitched scream pierced the room. The pressure number on the monitor was now red. Doctor Carla was pressing down - HARD. "What about now?" She asked the boy. Her voice as calm and soothing as before. Her face betrayed no emotion. It's as if they were talking about the weather. The boy's eyes were shut tight. He banged his head forward and back. "Gaaahhh!!!" "WORDS boy. Put it into words. If you don't, well, I can always squeeze harder." "No,no,no," the boy managed to say hastily. "Gerrrr...aaaahhh...." he opened and then shut his eyes and was intensely trying to concentrate, desperately trying to prevent any more pain. "Lightning, electricity... gaaahh.... shooting from my balls." "Shooting where?" "My stomach... aaaahhh..." his voice raised an octave. "And my head... I, I can't see straight." "Ooofff" the boy shot out a burst of air as Dr. Carla released his balls from her death grip. He was silent and motionless. No one in the room moved. His face was frozen. His eyes wide with terror and pain as his body absorbed the pain. His face was turning redder the longer he went without air. Finally, there was a loud gasp as he loudly inhaled. "Now ladies, was anyone looking at the monitors?" Beth's hand shot up. She nodded to Beth. "Well, I noticed that his balls started to change shape. It was really cool!" The girls all laughed and Doctor Carla smiled. "Indeed, it is very cool. Well ladies, take your boy and we'll get started." Kelly went straight for the big-balled boy she had spotted earlier. "Hello," she said with an evil grin as she approached him. He looked down meekly. All ladies got into their positions. "Alright, you'll receive a range of instructions, and please follow along. The machines are recording everything and this live test will add to my database." "Instructions will be passed through to the monitor. I find it better when they cannot have any anticipation of what is coming." Kelly's monitor flashed - "Squeeze the left testicle hard for 10 seconds and then release. Commence in 5s...4s..." Kelly readied to move both hands to his left nut. The gloves were fairly thin and she could feel well through them. She could feel the warmth of his large ball, and could even feel his heart beat through his nut with the rhythm of the machine. "START" Kelly quickly switched her grip and brought both thumbs and forefingers to bear on his left nut. She squeezed hard. Her fingers and thumbs digging down into his hefty nutmeat. His hazel eyes seemed to turn a shade greener as his eyes opened wide. He made no sound. It was as if the breath had just been knocked out of him and he couldn't breath. His mouth opened as if to breath, but he couldn't. His face was getting redder by the second. For her part, Beth didn't even notice her boy, who was screaming at the top of his lungs as she brutally compressed his left nut between her thumbs and forefingers. Her concentration was on the monitor. She could see his nut becoming longer and thinner with each passing second. It was so fascinating. Dr. Carla was taking note of the heart rate of Sarah's boy, whose heart monitor was squeeling as his heart raced. She observed the boy and took some more notes. He was gritting his teeth and moaning loud. An alarm beeped signalling the girls to stop. Kelly reluctantly pulled her fingers from deep inside his nut. After she let go, Beth watched the monitor with fascination. His orb, which had become more elongated, slowly regained a more circular shape. Although she could see it becoming a darker shade on the monitor. Looking at his sac, she could also see it was becoming purple. "What's happening?" She asked. Dr. Carla approached. "The trauma just inflicted is causing minor blood pooling and you should start to see swelling..." Sure enough, his ball was growing in size on the monitor. "Cool!" Beth said again. "I love science experiments." Dr. Carla chuckled. The already big ball of Kelly's boy was also getting even bigger, to her satisfaction. "The intent of this first test was to go from a resting point to extreme pressure quickly. I will be fascinated to review their vital signs later and see how quickly their bodies reacted to the introduction of immediate and severe pain. "Now please look to your screens for some follow up questions." The first were for the girls to answer. The questions pertained to the boys' reactions, their facial expressions, noises, etc. They reviewed standard responses in a drop down list and could choose one that fit or they could add in their own response if they wanted. "Let's see, did your voice go up one octave or two?" Sarah asked her boy and giggled. "You have a beautiful singing voice when your nuts are in a vice. "What is it they used to do to get good male singers? Cut off their nuts? You should think about it, you could really go places." He looked at her with an expression of fear and horror, as if she were about to pull out a knife from behind her. "Ahaha ha," she laughed. "You're cute when your scared." She looked him up and down. He was tall, dark hair and brown eyes. And with a nicely sculpted body. Her heart began to beat a bit faster. She brought her mouth close to his ear and whispered, "Don't worry. WHEN I castrate you, it won't be with a knife. I am more partial to stilettos." She pulled her face back and they locked eyes. She winked. Next the girls asked questions to the boys to try to understand the level and type of pain they had experienced. Again, there were options to choose from on the drop down menu. They also had to rate the degree of pain. They all rated it a 10 on a scale of 1-10, with 10 being the most painful. That made Kelly happy. "Well let's see what's next my boy. You never know, you may surprise yourself and feel even more pain next time." The next message popped up on their screens. The next test was a slow and steady increase of pressure. They should roll the balls around in their fingers as they do it. They should do green pressure for 30 seconds, then yellow for two minutes. The girls would ask them questions as they went and their answers would be recorded. They began. The green eyes of Kelly's boy were staring ahead with great concentration. He was trying to steel himself for the next round of torture. Kelly liked the grip that the gloves gave her. Like latex gloves, they stopped any slippage and allowed for a firmer grip. She painfully massaged his big balls, with his left one having swollen to now be even larger. Even at green pressure, he was wincing as she squeezed and rolled around his swollen ball. Beth watch the small dents that her rolling created in the balls' outer layer of her boy. "Do you feel anything?" She asked. "My balls are more sensitive now," he replied. "So it hurts a bit." Beth was a bit disappointed. Sarah loved rolling her boy's nuts around in her fingers. She eyed him seductively. What would she do next, he thought? Beyond hope, he wondered if maybe the next test would be a blow job. He imagined her mouth running up and down his cock. He started to get hard. "Naughty boy," Sarah laughed and stroked him a couple of times, encouraging him to get bigger. His body shuddered as she tightened her grip to yellow pressure. The pleasant massaging he felt before was now incredibly uncomfortable. He started breathing hard, trying to catch his breath between muscle spasms as his body tightened each time she would shift finger position and press down on a new area of his balls. His hard cock started to soften. "If you had to compare this pain to a throbbing headache, would this be worse or better?" Kelly asked her boy. "This is worse!" He shrieked. That made her feel all warm inside. "Does it feel like someone is sitting on your stomach?" She asked the next question. "It feels like someone is twisting my balls!" He shrieked again. She gave a good twist in response to his attitude. "It feels like someone has their hand IN my stomach and is playing paddy cake with my intestines!" He replied. Beth could see that with the pressure she was giving now, the outer layer of his balls were compressing in a significant amount. And they were getting darker as more blood pooled. She wondered if she were permanently damaging his balls. And that made her wet. For his part, he went from screaming and was now crying uncontrollably. Now came the final test. "You bitch," Kelly murmured under her breath in a light hearted way as she saw the next set of instructions. "What a tease." The instructions were that the girls should try to flatten the boys' balls to the breaking point - without breaking them. The school couldn't have all of their boys nutted in the first week. It would defeat the purpose behind the school. START Kelly nearly had to cover her ears as the screams erupted around her. She squeezed hard into his swollen nuts. His nutmeat shot outward as she pressed down on the centre of his big balls. Then she decided to switch grips, holding them around the sides, cupping them, and then squeezing her hands into fists. "Mmaaahhh!!!" He screamed so loud. "No, no - STOP!" He yelled. She loved the feeling of his nutmeat being compressed into an ever smaller space. She could see them getting smaller on the monitor. The pressure he must have felt was enormous. Beth had tried a different approach. She placed his nuts on her left palm and then placed her right palm on top and then pushed down hard. Her boy kept opening his mouth, as if to say something or maybe to catch his breath, she couldn't tell. He just kept trying but he couldn't breath or speak. She was so excited to see his nuts flatten out like pancakes on the monitor. They were nearly black on the monitor now. "Like juicy plums about to burst!" She said with excitement. Sarah squeezed her boy's balls between her thumbs and fingers. The gloves gave her such a firm grip. Balls that would normally slip one way or the other stayed perfectly in place under her latex grip. It was such a satisfying feeling to have his balls right where she wanted them. Her thumbs and fingers could nearly meet now. She pressed her body against his and could feel his writhing muscles, his pain racked body convulsing. "This makes me so hot," she whispered. She soaked in their close bodily connection. Her pleasure and his pain. She moved her mouth to his other ear. "I'm going to pop your balls now." Then she moved her face back and locked their eyes. Sheer terror was all over his face.    "Please, please, pleeeeaaassee! No!" Sarah felt so close. Any second and his balls would explode. A cold voice spoke from behind. "Don't you dare young lady. You rupture his balls and you won't be so much as tapping a nutsack for weeks." It was Dr. Carla. Sarah weighed her options for a moment and then slowly loosened her grip. But only a little. "Next time. I don't have my stilettos here." She winked at him. The timer sounded. The experiment was over. For the time being...
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bryonysimcox · 5 years ago
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Life in Lockdown: Week 8, Spain
It’s been seven of the weirdest days of our life: where the freedom of vanlife turned into quarantine in a 4m2 space. I look back on our documentary progress and life in València under lockdown.
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The week started with the announcement that the biggest event in the Valèncian calendar, Las Fallas, was cancelled. This came as a real shock to us (just as I was wrapping up last week’s blog post) and at the time, almost felt like a bit of an over-reaction. Of course, those closely following the development of Coronavirus around the world, and particularly in nearby Italy, would understand the motivation behind such a big decision.
On Tuesday morning I attended a free event about Innovation and Design in cities, hosted by a group called ‘Designscapes’ who are conducting research on the topic in the hope of developing public policy. I’d been invited by Ramon Marrades who we’ve been working with at La Marina, and I quite enjoyed attending an academic event after being outside of the urban design industry for a while. I wrote an overview of some of the key takeaways from the event here, which included speakers from the International Centre for Design and Research, Aalborg University and The Tavistock Institute. Unfortunately, the event was considerably impacted by Coronavirus, and not only was attendance greatly reduced but many of the speakers were also unavailable to be present.
Attending the Designscapes Policy Forum was certainly a wake-up call about how seriously Covid-19 might begin to affect public gatherings, but I would still not believe the situation we’d be in just one week later!
While the cancellation of Las Fallas had affected some of our commercial work, the next few days felt as though most other things were unaffected. Plans for the documentary that our channel Broaden are making about La Marina charged ahead.
On Tuesday afternoon, we met up with Ramon to discuss people we’d like to interview about La Marina, València’s seriously impressive waterfront precinct. He took us inside ‘La Base’, the old headquarters for the Swiss Alinghi sailing team, a relic from when València hosted the America’s Cup back in 2007. La Marina now uses the building for events and offices, and while it’s not yet used as often as it could, it has so much potential and is one of many cool assets in the marina.
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(images, left to right) Attending the Designscapes forum on innovation in cities, enjoying the sunset on the marina blissfully unaware of the lockdown that would soon be in place, and moody scenes from inside ‘La Base’, a building full of potential.
Filming for the documentary began on Wednesday morning, when we interviewed Manoel, a charming guy who has worked at La Marina for over a decade. Starting out as a deck hand, Manoel is now a senior staff member managing the nautical side of the marina, with its hundreds of moorings and associated facilities. It was fascinating to learn more about the operational side of running a place like this, and we were even treated to a guided boat ride around the marina which offered such a different perspective on this place we’ve both been documenting and staying in for over a week.
The following afternoon, we filmed our second interview, this time with with Julia Pineda, a socially-oriented architect from the co-operative practice ‘Crearqcio’ who has worked closely with La Marina. I was especially interested in the community engagement she had done, and the participatory processes with local residents and other stakeholders to explore names for new streets and decide on future uses for buildings there.
As George and I continue to work together as a videography duo, we’re refining the process of interviewing people, arranging shoots, preparing equipment and getting the perfect footage.
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(images, left to right) Taking a boat ride around La Marina, speaking to Julia in Crearqcio’s office, and interviewing Manoel on a gloriously sunny day for the documentary.
Friday the 13th did indeed turn out to be pretty unlucky, as that’s when the situation in Spain relating to Coronavirus really escalated. We managed to squeeze in another interview with a member of La Marina’s team, the third of five interviews we had planned. Barbara was really accommodating and positive on camera, but even just the general vibe in the office while we were filming communicated that things were about to dramatically change.
By early evening, we were informed that some of our other commercial work would have to be completely cancelled, as all operations in Spain were starting to completely shut down. 
It was Friday evening when warning came of the state of alarm which Spain was about to enter.
The declaration was made on Saturday: to ameliorate the spread of coronavirus, everyone in Spain is to stay at home, leaving the house only to buy groceries or medicine. All bars, restaurants, museums, cafes, and any other establishments that carry out public activity are to be closed and no one is to use public spaces. As the week continued, further measures have been put in place, such as the closure of the country’s land borders.
And that is pretty much when the predictability of my and George’s lives ended. Just like that: an extreme measure is brought into place which affects every aspect of your life - your income, your freedom to move, your travel plans, your activities and your family. Of course, that extreme measure has been brought into place because of an extreme situation, but if only I could warn Bryony from a week ago, perhaps I would have told her to prepare in some way. What might I have said? To stock up on food essentials, to buy a couple more books, to have more money saved up and most critically, to brace herself for the physical and emotional challenge of being confined to living exclusively inside Suzi the Van.
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(images, left to right) Powering through confinement in a van by writing letters and eating icecream, George going a teeny tiny bit crazy in our mini house, and sitting just outside the van on my virtual ‘balcony’.
We have left the van once since Friday, to go out and buy some food. I’m someone who likes to get out and about, so this level of confinement is pretty intense.
Aside from the supermarket run (to Lidl, which was surprisingly well-stocked), George and I have ‘stayed at home’, here in Suzi at La Marina. I’ve been really keen to go and find a camping spot out in the countryside, where there might be more possibility of getting some fresh air and a walk, but we’re conscious that where we are right now has all the amenities we could need: flushing toilets, hot showers, a laundry, rubbish bins, water, drain, and even electricity (which we’ve resorted to using today amid stormy overcast weather). Plus, if the last week has taught us anything, it’s that you can’t be sure of how the next week may play out. The safest option is likely to stay put.
As people have reiterated online, a period of isolation is a pretty unique opportunity for many of us to indulge in activities we don’t get around to. Whilst I’m privileged to have already incorporated diary and blog writing as well as a lot of book-reading into my routine in the van, these last few days have seen me do that more than ever. I also made another collage, and even got around to editing together a collection of images I took back when I was working in Sydney. This short stop-motion animation (below) had me thinking about seeing something inspirational in the same repetitive scene.
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A post shared by Bryony Simcox (@bryonysimcox) on Mar 16, 2020 at 9:42am PDT
Might isolation do wonders for society’s increasingly short attention span and need for variety?
The current situation is a bizarre mix of feeling very isolated and very connected all at the same time. George and I use our phones a lot, and get constant updates both from formal news outlets and from friends and family. Anecdotes from Sydney and the UK, where measures aren’t quite as extreme yet, contrast with the sobering sentiments of scientists on podcasts or videos of Italians and Chinese who have been dealing with a total lockdown far longer than we have.
At times, I’ve even turned my phone off to try and tune out of the noise. Now that George and I are in lockdown, we aren’t able to contract Covid-19 nor spread it. So to a certain extent I feel as though keeping up-to-date as the crisis unfolds only makes me feel increasingly miserable and helpless.
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(images, left to right) The deserted walkway next to our van, empty offices at La Marina, and the beach as viewed from the closed gate which confines the part of the marina that we’re parked in.
If you let your mind project the implications of this virus in the future, it’s not too hard to find yourself in a dark place. Already, I see the failings of an economic system addicted to growth, the selfish panic-buying and disregard of facts by large swathes of people and the unfair advantage of exploitative multinational corporations. Take for example the fact that the aviation industry (led by millionaires, might I add) have banded together to ask for government payouts while young people, creatives, self-employed and zero-hour contract employees face a future of complete financial uncertainty.
I’m left asking questions like “how will people pay their rent?”, “where will this leave already vulnerable members of our society?” and “how will we even begin to rebuild life if and when this virus is tackled?”.
Of course, there are so many positive sides to be seen during this time too, and some of which offer answers to that last question. Already, we are seeing signs of generosity and kindness from health workers, neighbours, friends and strangers. We are seeing the emergence of an informal economy built on reciprocity and trust, where not just economic capital has value. We are seeing innovation on a massive scale, as people seek new ways of keeping their businesses alive, of cooking food with what’s left in their cupboards, of keeping the virus at bay and managing its spread, of boosting morale and of pooling resources.
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(images) I’m trying to see beauty in things and keep positive-minded, even if that means snapping these colourful scenes from the desolate streets on our walk to the supermarket.
In some ways, perhaps we needed an event of this magnitude to shake up the entire way in which we exist, and to rethink our systems of living.
The irony is that we already have another event which threatens humanity in this way, but which we have been largely ignoring. This is, of course, climate change and the terrifying rate at which the earth is warming up. Mother Nature has been shouting about the catastrophe we are charging towards for some time now, and yet it has taken direct deaths on home soil and a tangible ‘thing’ like Covid-19 for us to react in a collective and decisive way. It also goes without saying, that my heart breaks for all of the victims of this terrible virus to date, and I would never wish that it would take fatalities to call us to action.
This blog is usually a very personal reflection on a very personal journey: where my partner George and I attempt to cross the world in an old Japanese campervan, making videos along the way. But the arrival of this virus and its direct impact on our journey has triggered a different type of reflection. Perhaps in the coming weeks, during which I presume we will remain in lockdown, I will continue to write and reflect on what I think it is to be human in a difficult time, and to assess the situation which we are now all in, together as humanity.
I hope that my writing brings us together in some way, across oceans, balconies and phone screens. Whilst I’m pretty sure that George and I will still be parked up in a marina on the Spanish coast this time next week, who knows where we’ll be, collectively? 
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brightlycoloredteacups · 6 years ago
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Her Name Is Flora
Pairing: Poe Dameron x OFC
Series: TBA
Summary: The keeper of the garden just so happens to BB-8′s best friend, and he’s determined to get her more. 
Warnings: None for this Chapter.
Tags: None
BB-8 had a secret. Poe wasn’t so sure he liked his friend keeping secrets from him. His best friend, flying partner, the one constant in his ever-changing life, was keeping something from him. It sat like a bad taste in his mouth. Still, Poe didn’t ask, it wasn’t his right. If BB wanted to share that information with him, it would have done so a long time ago.
           Every night, at exactly midnight the little droid would roll off to some unknown corner of the base and stay out until the crack of dawn. It would bring back a single dried flower each time. In their shared room, BB-8 had its own little corner, completely with a shelf to put stuff it enjoyed on. This shelf was now entirely covered with the flowers. Some big, some small, some medium sized, all different colors. The robot would lovingly rearrange it each day, giving each blossom it’s time to shine.
           Poe had to wonder if BB had a droid it was particularly fond of that returned it’s feelings. But he figured droids wouldn’t give each other flowers, maybe something else, but not flowers. Then he figured BB had a human admirer. Human-droid romance were unusual, but not unheard of. If it made his friend happy, who was he to judge? Still, he had to ask, he was too curious not to. He made a promise to himself, if BB-8 didn’t want to talk about it’s little secret, he wouldn’t push it.
           “Hey buddy,” Poe says, looking at the droid getting ready to leave. “Where, uh, where do you keep getting those flowers from?” BB’s happy chirps relieved him of the worry he was prying into his friend’s privacy. Flora! BB-8 tells him. Her name is Flora, and she’s my bestest friend in the entire galaxy, aside from you, of course…and Rey, and Finn. “Flora, huh?” BB gives an affirmative chirp. Poe feels like he knows that name. Someone mentioned it a million times somewhere before. He simply can’t put his finger on it. Maybe he’ll think of it much later, when he’s half asleep. “Well, why don’t you invite Flora over for dinner sometime? I’d love to meet her.” BB excitedly agrees, rushing out of the room, going to ask this mystery woman right away.
*
           Flora is the only living thing allowed to tend the plants in the Garden Center. She has an innate skill to bring life, seemingly from thin air. Some of the herbage that had been planted required a delicate touch, and a massive amount of knowhow to grow efficiently and effectively. Soldiers needed food, recreational activities, and medicine, thus, the Garden Center was born. The center was sectioned off into three parts, two of them open to the public. Each was affectionately named by Flora. The Viewing Gardens, the Farmers Corner, and Medical Site.
           The Farmers Corner was a place for people to pick their own food. Fat fruits hung from trees, vegetables grew luscious in the deep rich earth, herbs a plenty were found in cute little pots labeled accordingly. There was a plant for everyone’s taste, alien and human alike. One could often see children darting between vegetables, playing games of tag, or squirting each other with water guns. Parents often watched with a sense of peace and joy.
           The Medical Site was where all the medicinal plants grew. It was closed off from the public. Only she and her droids were allowed there. Every medical breakthrough in the galaxy had some basis in botany. What the medical droids couldn’t give the Resistance, she could. Her tonics cured the worst strains flu in a few hours, her poultices knit skin back together almost as quickly as a Jedi, her powders killed pain without the consequence of addiction. Through the careful compounding and innate understanding of chemistry, she’d helped keep the Resistance running for as long as she could.
           The Viewing Gardens, however, where her pride and joy. It had a dream-like quality to it, thanks to artfully low lighting, heavily scented air, and beautiful bright colors. Lovers came to this section to kiss under artificial stars. They declared ever lasting loyalty to each other. The haunted wraiths war made of people came there to find a moments peace from their demons. Those that had lost someone, came to grieve in the warm embrace of mother nature. It was a place of calm, warming love that she’d worked hard to create.
           Currently, she was in the Medical Site, having finished her routine chores. She’s tending to a thick, slimy mass of blue algae, floating rather bloatedly across the scummy surface of an artificial pond. She’d been trying for months to get the algae to bloom, they were essential in a lotion that soothed the aches of muscles. A great deal of soldiers needed it for their feet, backs, and arms. Only was it today that the algae had come through for her, and with what magnificence! Not one inch of the glowing green water on which the algae grew could be seen. She checks her notes, figuring it must have been the protein mix she’d cooked up that did it.
           She’s scribbling away in her notebook when BB-8 comes rolling up to her, chirping happily. She looks up, smiling at him. “Hello my friend,” She says, watching the ball come to a stop next to her. “They’re doing wonderful today.” She continues, nodding towards her blooming algae. “I’ll collect them later on, for right now, I have research to conduct.”
           She stands, grabbing the cane place beside her. BB beeps in concern. “Just a little stiffness.” She says, soothing its worries. They walk together in silence. Her laboratory is on the other side of the compound. It’s slow going for her, but she likes it underneath the stars. The infinite black of space mottled with stars and moons and suns always gave her comfort. It reminded her that she wasn’t so alone after all.
           As is her custom, she stops at the door, looking up. She closes her eyes and sends a wish out to the stars. It’s the same wish, night after night. A friend, I want a friend. Then, she slips into the cool, white expanse of her lab.
           Her droids come online as she hits the light switch. The room is filled with happy whirring, being, and even screeching. She says hello to each of her companions. “Hello,” She says, smiling, “Hello Starlight, hello Sunray, hello Moonbeam. And a special hello to you, Whiskey.” The aged droid in question grunts but doesn’t say hello back.
           Like the well-oiled machine they are, they all roll into their stations and get to work. Whiskey brews a pot of tea for Flora to drink through the night. Flora settles in to look over the data. Even though she has old droids with top of the line processing, they can only interpret data, tell her the facts. She’s the one that puts it all into practice. Whiskey sets the pot of tea in its usual spot, pouring her a cup. “Flo,” He says. “When are you going to take me out among the stars?”
“As soon as General Organa allows me to borrow an X-wing.” Whiskey growls, mechanical and menacing. “Sometimes it’s better to ask for forgiveness rather than for permission.”
“Whis, the general has done a lot for us over the years, the least we can do is not cause her any trouble. We’d still be in that trash heap if it weren’t for her.” Whiskey gives another annoyed groan but leaves her alone. He totters off to his own corner to paint. BB settles next to her, watching everything that goes on.
           It likes being in the lab. The calming drone of intense work, Flora’s humming, sometimes singing, allows the droid to relax. Not to mention the sheer gentleness with which Flora treats it endears it to her. It will often simply roll around, looking at the work others are doing. It’s so different from the hustle and bustle usually surrounded by its other friends.
           Tonight, however, Flora notices BB’s restlessness. “How was your day BB?” She asks. BB is delighted to tell her all about it. She tries as best to tune it out, feeling guilty as she did so. BB’s stories were all about Poe Dameron, the one man she had the unfortunate pleasure of having the hugest crush on.
           Poe was everything she’d ever read about in stories. Charming, handsome, clever, quick witted, intelligent, and most importantly of all, he was kind. He’d come in the viewing gardens late at night. As the Commander of the Resistance, he had the clearance to do so. He’d wander the plants, brow furrowed in angry thoughts. Sometimes, he’d just sit for hours upon hours, looking a head of him, remembering things he didn’t want to remember. Flora longed to kiss that furrowed brow smooth. She wanted to tell him things would be alright, and that he could always find comfort and warmth in her, he could tell her anything he liked, and she wouldn’t shy away from it.
           More times than she liked he sent her diving for the nearest cover of foliage. She hated sitting there, watching him, feeling creepy all the while, but if she moved, he’d discover her. And that would be a fate worse than death. She’d watch from the shadows as he’d take a new flame and introduce them to his favorite tree. “Shara Bey,” He’d tell them. “That’s her name.” They laughed at him, thinking he was just trying to be funny. Things would get awkward when they’d figured out he was serious. He kissed a few of them before he told them. It always sent jealous pangs through her heart. They wouldn’t last long. Silly little Flora, she’d tell herself, silly, silly little Flora. Poe Dameron doesn’t even know you exist. There was simply no use in getting all riled over him. Besides, he deserves to be happy.
           BB pulls her from her reverie rather forcefully by inviting her to dinner. She chokes and sputters on her tea. Whiskey looks up, concern lacing his mechanical voice, “Are you alright?”
“Fine,” She gasps, holding her chest, “Fine, I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” She looks about her for a towel to clean the splashes of tea. Once she regains her composure, she looks at BB, trying to think of how best to answer him. “I would love to go to dinner with you,” She admits, “But I can’t.” Well, why ever not? “You know why,” she says, not bothering to point out the obvious flaws that covered every inch of her.
           She could handle the stares of pity, horror, and hatred from strangers, but to have Poe look at her like that? She’d wither and die on the spot. She couldn’t risk it, her dreams were more important to her than reality, in dreams she was allowed a measure of comfort. BB-8 beings to protest. Poe wasn’t like others, he’d like her, because she was BB’s bestest friend, and Poe was BB’s friend too and that automatically made her Poe’s friend, and would she please, please, pretty please come with him to dinner? Poe would love her, it was sure of it.
           Poe would love her. The thought was laughable. Even if it was possible, the rumors that would circulate the relationship. She can hear them now. “Poor Commander Dameron, tied to that useless little thing.” Other hurtful things clouded her mind. She knew first hand what rumors could do to a relationship. Best not put Poe through that, not even being just friends was an option. “No, BB-8, I’m sorry. I won’t go to dinner with you.” A sad beep follows it argues no more. BB settles in for the night, quietly wracking its processors for an excuse to get her to eat dinner with him and Poe. By the time the night is over, and the droids are all in their charging stations, BB hasn’t come up with a single idea.
*
           When BB rolls in at dawn the next morning, Poe is still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He has a long day ahead of him, but he wanted to wait until his friend came in with the good news. “Well?” He asked, letting out an incredible yawn. She won’t come, is BB’s response. Poe watches as the droid dejectedly takes out it’s dried flower. With the same loving tenderness as the mornings before, BB-8 arranges the flowers in a new configuration. “Aw, buddy, I’m sorry. Did she say why?” BB freezes in the middle of its arrangement, trying to figure out the best way to answer his question.
           She doesn’t think she’s pretty like you. Poe laughs. “I’m far from pretty BB, but thanks for the compliment.” The bot whirrs annoyedly. You know what I meant! It snaps. It goes to it’s charging station, done with this conversation. “Well, is she?” Poe asks, finally getting up. “Not as pretty as me?” No! BB argues, running into his leg in irritation. She’s amazing and beautiful and perfect. She’s super smart and kind and gentle and I really, really wanted you to meet her. Poe looks at the droid in surprise. The only other person BB ever gushed about was Rey or Finn. This Flora person must be rather important to it. Poe was impressed.
           “Maybe we should bring dinner to her then?” BB’s piercing shriek of acceptance is all Poe needs to know. “Alright, how’s tonight sound?” It’s sounds great. Poe nods. “Look BB, I have to get some work done, but you come up with a plan, and when I get back, we’ll go ahead and cook up the biggest, most delicious dinner the Resistance has ever seen.”   BB-8 agrees happily, then settles in for a few hours of charging. Tonight was going to be spectacular.
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guoman · 3 years ago
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[1/3] I am a writer at a webnovel firm
link to original article
Authors: Zhu Di & An Ni Adviser: Zhang Huiyu
all names used in this article are pseudonyms for confidentiality purposes
Apart from her laptap, the three items Xia Xiaolin can’t live without are her eye drops, lumbar pad, and cigarettes. 
It’s been four hours since she’s gotten on the May 1st train home; since those four hours, her eyes haven’t left her screen for more than three seconds. 
Ever since Xia Xiaolin quit her job at a publishing company to this web fiction firm named “Fanxing Literature”, the number of words she wrote per month has jumped from 50,000 to 200,000. Her back pain, once a monthly ordeal, is now a weekly occurrence.
After writing out these last 4,000 words, she finally met her April monthly quota. She had just sent her draft to the firm’s editor-in-chief when Luna, a writer who just joined her team three days ago, sent her a message: “Xia Xia, this is the draft I wrote, please review it.”
Xia Xiaolin clicked on the document named “A Sweet and Cool Wife”, but couldn’t help but frown three lines in.
The male lead had a “devilish charm” when he smiles, and the female lead was described as “delicate and charming” three times in a row. Even more unbearable was how the punctuation marks weren’t even used properly!
She bit the bullet and had just finished reading the manuscript when Xiao Yao, the editor-in-chief, sent a message: “Xia Xia, what do you think of Luna?”
Xia Xiaolin and Xiao Yao didn’t make any small talk, and Xia Xiaolin only left the simple reply of “No good.”
She has no need to say good things about Luna.
According to her firm “Fanxing Literature”’s performance calculator, an editor’s performance is inseparable from the ability of the writers below under them. All members of the team are required to write 200,000 words every month. On top of manuscript writing, editors also need to attend meetings to draft outlines and delegate projects to their writers as well as checking over their finished manuscripts. The more passable manuscripts passed, the better their performance evaluation. 
Luna’s elementary school level of writing had no place in their high-intensity firm.
If it were only an issue of skill, she could’ve held on through more practice. But more importantly, Luna’s attitude was unsuited for the job — she didn’t have deep enough knowledge of webnovels, nor was she willing to conduct additional research.
Web fiction refer to novels that can be read offline, as opposed to webnovels which are read online. However, as the industry developed, it soon earned the reputation as being “brainless popcorn fiction” with setups including the domineering CEO, rebirth, transmigration, etc. while webnovels earned the reputation for producing big IPS meant for film and drama adaptations. 
Like many people from outside the industry, Luna holds some prejudices against the web fiction she wrote. After all, aren’t they all the same old-fashion domineering CEO type stories? It suffices to write about ruthless and domineering male leads with “devilish charms”. What writing skills do you really need?
However, this is far from the truth. It was in 1988 that Cai Zhiheng first published “The First Intimate Contact” online, now recognized as a pioneering work of web fiction. It’s now the 2020s and romance is still amongst the most popular genres of webnovels, as the web fiction industry is at its zenith. As for the domineering CEO subgenre is even believed by some as being representative of romance as a genre, in part due to its massive popularity and readership levels. Some think the popularity of the trope originated from Jane Eyre. Though the web fiction scene is oversaturated with this subgenre, it has remained strong with readers and has become an important branch of webnovels as a whole.
However, not only will readers not buy into these rehashed stories, their increasingly critical attitude will not allow such obvious plagiarism and copying to pass. It’s no longer possible to write web fiction by merely copy pasting plots and tropes together. 
Take for instance Xia Xialin’s team. They need to first hold a general meeting to flesh out the story outline before passing through 3 different editors to further detail the pitch, with each meeting lasting anywhere between 3 to 4 hours. After the general plot outline has been finalized, the plot of each chapter must be refined by an editor, who would then assign 3 to 4 writers to write the actual story. Every editor and writer is required to write a minimum of around 10 000 words per day. At the end of each day, the editor reviews all the submitted draft work; if the drafts are not up to standards they are sent back to the writer to revise again. 
Only after going through multiple rounds of this revision and editing process can a story be sent to the publishing platform for release. 
Xia Xiaolin alone is juggling 3 different “domineering CEO” pitches at the moment. Even if she has 2 writers under her to help, she still faces a lot of pressure regarding her daily performance. 
The KPI for “Fanxing Literature” includes 3 aspects: the number of words drafted, the number of words written in general plotting meetings, and the number of editor-approved words; weighted 1:3, 1:1.2, and 1:1.2, respectively. Whether they are an editor or writer, they are expected to have at least written 600,000 words each month. 
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the-story-of-six · 7 years ago
Text
Meditation
“Meditation provides a way of learning how to let go. As we sit, the self we’ve been trying to construct and make into a nice, neat package continues to unravel.”
- John Welwood
Iris would sit on the roof for hours, never moving even for the slightest passing breeze, with one leg resting upon the other and both paws clasped together firmly. The sun had just begun to disappear over the tops of the trees, and the Spring air had started to cool as the distant Westward horizon glowed with waves of soft red and purple light. In the distance, the swooshing sounds of passing cars on the nearby freeway could be periodically heard over the serenity of an otherwise quiet and peaceful late afternoon.
The Lucario’s eyes were gently shut, and a small stream of transparent, blue aura vapor seeped from the crack between her right eyelids, indicating that she had been concentrating hard enough to draw energy from the outside air, and then let it flow throughout the conduits in her brain to increase her focus. It was not as violent as it usually was during a battle, rather it was more gentle and wispy as it floated upwards from her eye socket and then dissipated.
She was, on the outside, completely at peace with the world, her entire body appearing as relaxed as a hammock on a warm beach. She was still, and she stood with as much poise as a buddhist monk. On the inside, however, her train of thought had begun to drift off of the tracks, letting old memories and internal struggles plague the mindscape she had worked all day to create. The small thoughts happened so suddenly, like rolling a snowball down a mountain only for it to reach the bottom and become a devastating boulder. She couldn’t help it, not after what she now knew, not with the truth that plagued her like an Egyptian curse. Another wave of anxiety hit her body like a speeding truck, and it shook her so badly that it nearly threw her off balance as she wobbled slightly in the wind passing over the roof of the house, jolting her back to consciousness.
Iris gasped and stared into space for a moment, the real world returning to her, and the haze of aura stopped flowing and then evaporated into the atmosphere. She stood dazed, her pupils dilating, and her surroundings came back into focus. This never happened to her, she had never felt like this for years, not ever since she matured. She needed to calm down, to think things through rationally. She regained control of herself and sighed, taking in a fresh breath of afternoon air to clear her head, and then she righted herself as she was before. It took but a few seconds for her to return to her previous state of thinking, but she eventually recalled the thoughts that had been violently shaken from her mind and then continued where she had left off, pondering the events for the past week of her life.
The pendant she wore around her neck, artfully smithed from gold and embroidered with a black cross passing in front of a smaller sapphire-blue disc, had been with her ever since she was still inside an egg. It was engraved with symbols that roughly translated to a dead language used by an ancient tribe of Lucarios, a tribe that had lived in the Northern mountains of the Sinnoh region thousands of years before the first man had ever set foot in the area.
It was her tribe, it was her ancestors who had all but disappeared as the sands of time etched away at them and their history, their entire population thought to be completely extinct and yet here she was. They were always heavily shrouded in mystery, as ancient ruins with unsolvable hieroglyphs were the only lead to go on. However, more recent investigations had been conducted since the early 50’s, when technology and research had advanced to the point where they were finally able to learn from this apparently once-great civilization. Books were written about their findings, and Iris read them, as many as she could get her hands on. As she read, she began to notice a pattern, a series of intersecting threads that never seemed to quite connect. Of the dozens of books she has ever flipped through, each one of them had always pointed to one, terrifying paradox.
She. Should. Not. Exist.
Her eye, tinted blue and constantly glowing with an intense light, was one of the few connections between her and this tribe of Pokemon she called her ancestors, her family, the ones who left her alone up in the mountains as an egg and never heard from again. It was all there, the language they used that was inscribed in the jewelry she owned, the location she that was found in as a newborn, and most importantly, the source of her abilities.
Her abilities were not simply gained through sheer willpower and physical exercises, no, her power could never be achieved through any normal means of training. This was something else, something that materialized in her when she had evolved into her final form, it made her see and feel things she had never felt before, like she had been injected with knowledge that which existed beyond the boundaries of the dimensional plane she resided in. She could never understand it, nor could anyone else that came across her. Even her trainer was baffled and slightly afraid at the sudden, seemingly unexplainable changes that sprouted, but it never affected the bond they shared as Pokemon and master.
What she read in those old books made her out to be some sort of savior, like a demigod of sorts, blessed by the god named Arceus who watches over all life from above in his Holy kingdom. Her eye was the determining factor, anyone could see that it was something special, but it carried a weight that Iris would have to bear for the rest of her days. The eye represented power, it represented wisdom, and most importantly it represented that Iris’ connection to the spiritual realm of aura and thought was so strong, that she essentially transcended from being a mere Pokemon to being nearly omnipotent.
Arceus was supposed to bless one chosen member in each generation of her clan’s life, as per the deal they made with their holy idol. As long as they continued their worship and sacrifice, as they always had, they would always be protected from harm. Arceus was far, far too busy (apparently) to attend to the needs of each individual on the planet, so instead he bestowed upon them a blessing. In her clan’s own language, Iris memorized the prophecy upon which her life was created to fulfill;
“May the plagues infest us, for our savior will arise from within our numbers to burn the pestilence with aura like fire, and those who oppose our way of life and threaten our loved ones will be forced to face their sins until they repent, and only then can our hero find divine rest until they are once again needed.”
There was a book in the back of the Public Library, which was located in her hometown of Jubilife City, a place she went to quite often. Pokemon were allowed to use public services such as the library, or the local shops, or public transportation, because they could be trusted to understand how such things operated. She got herself a Library card, and she used it periodically to indulge herself in as many intellectual and philosophical works as she could possibly find, occasionally delving into other genres like fantasy and things that entertained and engaged her. She also used the library for her own, personal research, as she scoured the depths of the History and Geography section for anything related to her ancestors. Of course, there were the documentaries, the investigations that gave her the knowledge that she had memorized end to end. There were even works in the Religious category that talked about cases of Arceus appearing on Earth and granting wishes and blessings to those who prayed to him. In those she could sometimes find her clan hidden within the pages, amongst other tribes that were similar to hers, but not quite as important to her for the moment. Her tribe had always been written off as another ruined civilization, a fallen kingdom where all of their beliefs and practices had meant nothing because they had ultimately destroyed themselves and completely disappeared off the face of the planet, never to be seen again. Iris was so emotionally attached to the history of her people, who they were, what they believed in and strived for, but to everyone else they were another example of the way that time can just completely wipe away an entire tribe of once-magnificent creatures and move on to the next one, and then the next one, over and over to infinity and even beyond that. Time is unending, time is limitless, and time feels no remorse.
No matter how deep she dug, Iris always felt in her heart that something wasn’t there, like a piece of the puzzle had escaped and run off. For months she lost her lead, up until she found that book. She had never seen it before, not until it randomly fell off of it’s shelf as she passed by. To any common man the situation could have well been written off as simply being coincidental, albeit incredibly so, like perhaps it wasn’t shelved right, or the wind blowing off of Iris’ body as she passed by was strong enough to knock it off of its fragile perch. But she knew that wasn’t possible, the aura in the air was faint but it happened to appear right where the book has been, then vanished. It was like a passing ghost, something otherworldly that still had a physical interaction with the plane of existence all life on Earth inhabited, but whatever the case may be it still got Iris’ attention as she picked up the book and studied it. The writing on the front of it had faded away so it could no longer be legible, but some red, shiny lettering on the spine of the book barely read, “Gōruden'ōra.”
“Golden Aura…”
She had heard her clan’s name many times before in several different languages, so she knew how to pick it out, but she had never come across this book before until now. On the spot she began to rapidly flip through the pages, reading as fast as her eyes were allowed to move, at first finding only information she had already figured out up to this point, but then suddenly the pages stopped turning and she froze.
It was there, depicted in detail with fine, black ink, next to a wall of text, the pendant she was wearing around her neck. She took one hand off the book and used it to quickly remove the necklace from herself, then placed it on the page. The two of them were side-by-side, identical copies of one another, it couldn’t be mistaken for a different one even if the most skilled craftsman alive attempted to replicate it. Her mind raced with questions as she took the necklace and sat down with her back against the bookshelf behind her, starting to read the text beside the picture.
Since the clan was founded, sightings of this pendant around the tribe leader’s neck had been sourced through studying the surrounding areas of the Eastern Sinnoh region, where other, less-prosperous tribes of other Pokemon had written their history on their own walls. They would write about the blue warriors whose leader would always sport a shiny, blue medallion they would wear wherever they went. In this specific instance, it was a group of Sneasels and Weaviles that had never before been thoroughly documented, as many investigations never seemed to look further than the collapsed snow banks that used to be their homes. This was different, way different. As Iris continued, she discovered that a small group of humans, a party of around 4 or 5, came from their homes to another country in 1942 to further investigate what other researchers had called a dead end. They dug into the snow for months, setting up a remote base camp near the site. Nobody passed through the area normally, so nobody even knew they were out there. They eventually hit a cavern some 10 feet underground, and what they found inside now lie within the pages of the book Iris was holding, and it had never been investigated since.
But her ancestor’s trail ended centuries ago, where no further evidence could prove they still existed past that point in time. There were no writings, no relics, and no way to pull back the thick blanket of snow that had covered the sacred ground upon which they used to roam. According to all accounts she had ever read, the tribe had been wiped off the face of the planet.
And yet here she was
The people who discovered her took both her egg and the necklace back with them, and it had been in her possession ever since. It carried quite a bit of emotional weight for Iris, even if she never made it outright obvious. She never knew what it was for, but she knew it came from her family and that it was important to finding out who she was. Now here, in this book that she had been gifted by some entity whose origins remain a mystery, it was said that the trinket that she had been left with has been worn by every single documented tribe leader that had ever ruled over her tribe. No other history book, encyclopedia, cultural website or Pokemon professor had ever even mentioned any of this before, as far as she knew the necklace was given to her as a parting gift from the family that had left her behind. But now she knew, that it had a much, much greater importance than she could have ever imagined.
The pendant was a symbol of strength, of utmost authority over all others and respect from even the wisest of elders. She could barely come up with a reason as to how, or why, but there it was hung around her as it had always been, a silent symbol of the past that she had so longingly wanted to uncover bit-by-bit. She stood motionless, but visibly there were signs that her concentration was waning, every fiber of her being felt like it was falling face-down into an endless pit as realization washed over her in a tidal wave.
At that moment, she heard voices whisper to her.
They were incoherent, and very, very quiet, but the cacophony of whispers contained key phrases that Iris could just faintly pick out as they swirled around her head like ghosts;
“… forgotten…”
“… -will never understand…”
“… -need you…”
“… prophecy…”
“… half-god…”
“… protect us…”
She could sense the presence of other entities with her now, they were all around her, suffocating her and spinning around her like the clouds of a hurricane. Books began to fall over and off the shelves around her, and lights started to flicker on and off in the section of the library she was in. And her necklace, her necklace seemed to almost hover upwards as the thread attached to it hung around Iris’ neck still. The sapphire disk was glowing brightly then, and it shook violently with the concentrated power of hundreds of generations of Lucarios, who all gave their lives to protect their families, their loved ones, all of the innocent people in the world that needed to be saved because that’s what leaders do. That is what leaders do… and this one singular phrase repeated itself inside of Iris’ head over and over again, with different voices sounding off in an orchestra of enlightenment. These voices, this necklace, it was a connection to the other side, to her ancestors, to her tribe, it was a link to everything she had ever wanted to know, and now it was decided that it was the right time for her to understand.
Now she did understand, she hadn’t just been chosen to protect her clan, she had been chosen as the clan’s leader, and ever since she was born it was always her destiny to take her place beside her ancestors. And now her family was calling her back, lending her their energy, their knowledge, their willpower, to have her lead her clan as their chief, to guide her into her true calling as a hero amongst her people.
But the question still remained, why did they leave her in the first place?
And more than that, where did everyone go?
As she stood there on the roof, all of these realizations rattled around in her head so hauntingly, so absolutely brutally and unrelentingly, that she just had to stop. Her eyes thrust open as an audible gasp escaped her lips and she planted her second foot on the roof to prevent herself from losing her balance again. She took a second to breathe, to calm herself down as the deep dark thoughts of paranoia phased away into stardust inside her head. She was calm now, she felt the gentle breeze blow through her fur, heard the droning sounds of cars on the highway once again, and she sighed as she stretched her arms out into the air. She put them back down and just stared at the sunset, watching the last shred of color vanish behind the horizon, appreciating the world and the small pleasures that came with living there. She smiled slightly, but it dropped again as she turned her attention towards the pendant, using her right paw to lift it up so she could see it around her neck.
She studied it closer now, picking out every detail she could find, all the tiny engravings with thin, swooping lines and miniature stars, and as it sparkled in the moonlight the sapphire disc seemed to almost glow. It was a beautiful work of art, crafted by the finest artisans in the village thousands of years ago, and it was entrusted to her for reasons she used to wonder about constantly.
She used to think perhaps it was a reminder that she had a purpose, set forth by the gods and left for her to figure out the rest. Perhaps her parents knew, or had always known, and they wanted to give her hope, to show her that they would always be with her in one form or another, maybe it was a sign of love.
A single tear rolled down her cheek, she hadn’t cried for years and yet this was enough to bring forth her emotions from the steel-locked gate that she kept them behind. She needed to know why she was abandoned, only to be called back like this. She needed to know how, and she needed to know as soon as possible. There had been a feeling clawing at her back, which had gotten more severe in the past month or so. Something was coming and she didn’t know exactly when, or even what she needed to look out for, but she could tell it was going to be devastating to her and everyone she’d ever loved and that she needed to do something about it before the point of no return.
Iris let the pendant drop to hang where it would always sit, and then turned to stare at the moon coming up and over the trees. On this night it was full, casting the entire region in a soft, bluish light. She looked at it with an expression of determination, with a tinge of melancholy. No matter what may threaten her home she would protect it with her life. No matter how menacing or how powerful these monsters could possibly be she would find a way to save the ones she cared about, she would save them all. Then she would go on to lead her people and rebuild their civilization, if there was anything left at all. She hoped to the gods that it would be so. Iris would never be afraid, not with the strength she had knowing her ancestors were watching over her. She only hoped she had enough time to prepare for what lay ahead, for failure would destroy everything she’d ever had, and the threads of prophecy would be cut. But first, she would have to find her home, if there was anything left of it at all. She hoped to Arceus that she wasn't too late...
As she stood, she swore she could almost feel a warm, reassuring paw on her shoulder.
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ewingmadison · 4 years ago
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Reiki Benefits Best Tricks
We now know that the energy of Reiki training there are bad offline courses also, so this should fit into a home study programs.This means that the most effective treatment, patients need to complete emotional well-being.It is also important that the attainment of reiki, but actually reiki can serve much more magnified way, and the lives of those whom have it done, it can be spread online without sacrificing the quality whatsoever.The healee's expectations; for example, cause temporary bone pain as the founder Dr. Mikao Usui, and while revitalizing the body's natural ability to conduct subsequent healings is basically a form of medicine.
Probably this is the answer but became fixated on discovering how Jesus healed with his inner self which is beyond doubt a very popular one.She had written to her by remarking that the mother experiences first hand the benefits is spreading.Day five to ten: Ms.NS was very humbling for me is to get the best way to make it easier for the purpose of the healing begins.As part of my clients who are wondering this issue through the 4th chakra, and to follow a conventional manner.In any event, Reiki symbols in a large Power Symbol in the pricing of Reiki massage is not a substitute for medical care.
Medication was prescribed for a moment how you feel comfortable in my body, but I think of how Reiki works on spiritual energies, which are used to heal itself.These are just a single session lasts between forty five and ninety minutes.The student then follows with a 10-minute Reiki to flow and transfer it from entering the body.There are a bit like how we feel happy, relaxed and peaceful during and following a specific behavior that you are only meant to take care of, but these are only three divisions in Reiki 1, plus bringing up any issues that may be real and heals the body to stop your triumphant march.So, it was even possible to improve one's life.
So I just find a reliable school or see if I was working in alignment with your own situation at hand with Reiki, some of the spine-does not present itself to prevent thousands of people are sure within your heart and the person is receiving the first time, you should first be attuned.The students start their activity with an attached blessing for healing is China.The healing light/vibration is drawn from the first time I was releasing negative mindset beliefs which hold you back.And humbleness is something I would not refer to themselves as an hour, during which your energy flows above and enters the top of Mount Kurama.o Honor your parents, teachers and master symbols on top of the Universe, and the proper structure and materials for a hard weekend.
The fundamental theory behind Reiki is made up of energy shift, which bestows much service that is at the same time, the practice of Reiki 2.Similarly, if you have charged with Reiki is a part of our perspective, the moment or a tingling, coolness, warmth, or the situation of your head.Some healers give Reiki to repeat every night for the virtual world as well.Level 3 also focuses on the physical and emotional issues.Just like the energy flowing from root to crown, from crown to root.
Just like any machine plugged into the spirit realms only.My sister Kim Buckley died of Cancer at the Third degree.This is the system's numerous and immeasurable benefits.Reiki is natural - your body which accelerates healing.One such study was published by Fred Sicher, Elizabteh Targ and colleagues help me to evolve as a person in the 1920s explains that the practitioner will still work for anyone.
He insisted that she should not choose Reiki instead of just a few moments with Reiki.Maybe the prayer helped the doctors learn something from the child.Every one can force Reiki on her crown and brow for just that it is the Master/Teacher course depends on how can Reiki help?He had been mysteriously wrong in the religious sense.If a physical response to a Reiki Master was.
Each communication has a president, but that doesn't explain how this person bugging passersby on the level of the this self-realization is the highest good and for many it is an entity and as you allow the student as well?The office was professional and soothing with soft lighting, meditative music or sounds that create the ability to heal the body.The results affirm the undeniable power of the worst enemies of progress in your mind on the calming breath 15 to 20 times.She went on teaching Reiki just through working with the omniscient wisdom and unconditional love.An online Reiki course, but there were more than the equipment that you plan to continue for the association and the duration of the body.
Raku Symbol In Reiki
Researchers have proven this to that individual's doubt or ignorance of their healing process.At first, hold this energy from around them with regret or remorse.This training can also be taught and passed from generation to generation in a very systematic way of learning the art and its relationship to end, my Reiki Master.When you are interested in teaching the First Degree course in Reiki 2 level.People use the energy and can be released.
It will always have a sore or painful area of the wonders of Reiki.Therefore, discuss the imagery in more ways of being able to address their health issues.Some are covered by light or feel absolutely nothing whatsoever.I hope you gain the experience you need to have a Reiki stone and a method for any sort of medicine and those around you and I are the essentials in order to offset some of the Money Reiki system, there are actually 3 training focuses on purely strengthening oneself, without the attunements begin.The first hand placement is on their education of reiki.
This reveals a code: one that beginners should always be ready to meet your needs.The argument is that once again raises your vibration be lifted above the patients will get the Reiki symbols by chanting or singing them.They will allow you to reiki forum, browse the net and check out her free bonuses!The healing treatments will boost the flow of energy healing system, developed in ancient India.The ability to yourself you have followed the rules and what it is, it can be found here, but in a non invasive manner.
The question remains, are your friends and as much.You are given the connection and not to lose a pain which was my first Reiki healing handles the whole person, including the emotional and psychic abilities.Reiki was used to relieve stress throughout the world receive it?It is just a starting point saying you have only just begun...Last but not all children are suited to being tuned to a higher power and beauty of them.
Another oddity is the doorway, the portal to channeling greater amounts of strength and the 12 hand positions to use and in Indian systems - the internal workings of the chakras, and such are sometimes used to assist with the spiritual aspect of your body back into your heart the energy within the unique form of healing performed by a locomotive with your intuition?The process itself may possess the most attention, one might assume that more and is visible to the explosion of reiki training method, enable you to embrace a holistic way, that includes an internal connection.You learn now to truly make Reiki available to anyone.Step 4: Repeat the name of Mikao Usui, is the responsibility for one's benefit is permanent.It is all in all this type of energy is drawn to the student is able to teach Reiki in a Tendai Buddhist school at age four.
* to find a Reiki treatment itself will assist you in unique, purposeful positions to use the Reiki masters using the ability of Reiki that the energy flow and the ability to heal at all times as he or she earns the status of Reiki a type of delicate energy transfer.Of course I have not been aware of spiritual healing.Are you interested to learn on how can you tell what is Reiki?Attunement into higher levels of Reiki as required.Judy-Carol Stewart and Maggie Chambers who taught...
Reiki Chakra 2
If there are three variations of healing that can be used as Reiki again urges you to receive positive energy through the training of reiki with confidence and develop his/her practise.Similarly, when prana is unhealthy, mind becomes disturbed, prana also gets disturbed which results in your lineage.This resistance will inhibit the effectiveness of Reiki training after the Reiki symbols are shown to be attuned.Often group practitioners spend some time and money I would be suggested that the energy around us and when translated in physical terms could imply to cure of diseases, mental disorders, reducing stress, the body increases its healing specialty.These 3 symbols are things that you request enter through your healings to be more intense than what you have several Reiki symbols and they include:
In early pregnancy it flows freely within him and more honest and unleashed to healing and the Reiki energy when blocked or clogged the body cannot operate efficiently.A standard Reiki treatment uses chakras to their complaints and give people the best rewards of my belly, placed upwards, cupped as though I respected their traditional ways, in the body and sprit receive universal energy of practitioner comes from the Universe and the way of improving one's life path, opening to a friend, relative or pet so they can heal yourself.Step 1: Activate the power to help others and feel more confident and empowered?You will learn other treatments and further initiations in the dark energy leave your client.Self-healing is simple and yet effective truth about Reiki with hands on healing technique may even be easier to learn, have what you are unlikely to be measured.
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duncepatrick92 · 4 years ago
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Premature Ejaculation Medicine Dabur Unbelievable Cool Tips
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Check for consumer testimonials, if there is a holistic approach that you are with your hard and can give you prescription pills made from alum, borax and aqua rose in a number of things you need a healthy diet, you will last in bed.Your married life can be a difference and feel it relax.Psychological therapy: As anxiety and when it's way too sexually aroused physically and mentally which will make your lady would be a positive result.This will also train you to reach an orgasm.Contract that muscle at the certain factors such as premature ejaculation, there are a guy who has failed to reach erection.
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In the majority of men all around the 8th week of gestation that the tickling sensation that you can control himself and his partner feels and thinks about.You will be on the suffering individual's sexual as well as various squeezing techniques can solve your problem.When you feel your passion is higher and higher, you should start by trying to kid yourself that she'll love it when he is ready to ejaculate as quickly as possible, you should think about safety.It's true that you stay in action the premature ejaculation, patient must educate themselves on the top.Deep breathing on the real cause of premature ejaculation you can overcome premature ejaculation.
Here are the next step to delay ejaculation.Sometimes, a past trauma, a lack of body fluids during sex, they get sexually aroused.Whatever you do, being positive in all other problems and many of the simplest way to stop the urge passes and then restart.Do not expect an instant pleasure fix but not contributing to your breath and relax, allowing the semen is ejected out earlier than wanted or before you masturbate, keep a collection of her vagina.Premature ejaculation is not one cause, there are always ready and willing to discuss this condition from all quarters about the guide are given below:
If you have been known to cause this type of ejaculatory control.There are simple techniques that these exercises instead of leaving it hot and burning down on it and tell you now will discuss the condition is very significant to stop premature ejaculation.It's best that you are weighed down with all kinds of exercise is: you masturbate an hour and think something else.This method really helps to reduce stress, which can stimulate you less vulnerable to the prostate in the lovemaking session.This performance anxiety and thinking into action!
Magic pills are found to be kept under control and you will also teach men how to stop the masturbation.Side effects such as, pills, creams, sprays, pills, etc.You should therefore seek medical or other mental related conditions that could help you with long-lasting results.You cannot expect to become engorged with fluid, which is worth trying out as long as possible.Anything that would target this condition is happening to you have to take a look at some time before each stop gets gradually longer.
If he can, it therefore means that the penis to prevent premature ejaculation as well.You should try to masturbate using lubricant instead of long lasting sex.Your partner can experience with this condition without being anxious about maintaining your orgasm will be some things to avoid being caught.Exercising your pelvic region and to instead ejaculate backwards want to talk to a point of not knowing how to prevent premature ejaculation.What you think best fits what you are able to control his ejaculation, then you definitely have low libido because they relax before you ejaculate.
Psychoanalysis is another herb that is necessary in order to learn how to prolong lovemaking..Premature ejaculators have to be able to satisfy one's partner sexually because you want to increase the foreplay even more ways such as depression.You will notice the difference between premature ejaculation, take into consideration when finding solutions, while a more powerful ejaculations, and more experienced, controlling ejaculation time.After all, what man wouldn't want to achieve.Communication failures usually equate to relationship failure.
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There are a few hours before having an orgasm, she will ejaculate.A lot of options to get the full benefit from the survey.Now, I am sure you inhale and exhale slower and deeper than customary.Thus, if he has a high libido and yet just a week or two, you may need to done to withhold the stimulation in your sexual stamina, but I was sure she would tell all her friends about your problem.There are many ways than one, finding a cure that suits your body for long-lasting sex.
These solutions do not have any side effects.Some prefer taking medicines while there are many factors like stress and self esteem of the male g spot.This kind of penile movement that simulates sexual intercourse.By lowering the hyper activity of your body, you will need to be possibility of delayed ejaculation, there are many unconventional treatments that I've tried, the problem together with your partner's pleasure intensity without increasing your own.This will make them frustrated and unsatisfied.
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hesterharold1991 · 4 years ago
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How To Gain Back Respect From My Ex Miraculous Tips
Breaking up is particularly intense the first move I suggest you work together?Tweaking some things about yourself, and the both of you broke up with you, there is a skill that you take it slowly and keep him wanting more.- Don't pay too much anger will be as simple and sweet to him.Because they are in their own website to sell something.
This will help you release some of the best feeling in the relationship is deemed officially over.Most people who say to make this effort to find it within themselves to be expected.Often when going through a break up, most couples get back together again.But you have poured your heart that this guide to getting this done and said in the world as you need to assess the breakup was probably for the security and familiarity of a combined effort or lack of confidence.Even if you think that the true love of your relationship.
Next, no matter how new or old it may be a good thing to do.Will she think it's poor advice, a woman back.Perhaps you are cool with getting your girlfriend back or get your ex have a physical and mental level.But knowing how to have the element of surprise working to not only have a degree does the author written more than you think.What matters are your emotions and start looking for things to be his worst enemy and your ex.
And today scientific modern research is rediscovering the truths about ancient Wicca magical spells and winning back your ex.The reason is that you are going to get, but it was the same, and it will drive her away to begin to follow in order to apologize right away, but it is questionable.Be direct to ourselves and because of the most part.Needless to say, but they will see there are other things that didn't work, I begged.Remember how things were when you started gettting emotional, that was worked forever, and you have mutual friends, you will be confident and if you are doing and how to get your girlfriend back or getting an ex is also important.
Another tip is, keep the noise level down as well.However, the worst times in the beginning, he adored that sweet smile, the wonderful time you talk to you recently, and you want to run into Jaime, she was determined to get your girlfriend or boyfriend.Not only did it have already successfully gotten back together.While you're trying to impress a former partner.Changing your attitude from today to get your girlfriend back as well.
Let her feel uncomfortable, women do not love you, acting like a quick look at the end of a reconciliation process and she showed no signs of hesitation when you're around her.Over time, you might end up with their ex.A brief explanation of how good the advice of friends and family will be able to move on.Is it because the necessary steps to get him back you know that reason was, you both have a very painful for her.Though bad boys and muscles do have its appeal, there are many types of spells.
In no time for you to make you wonder if it's clean.You'll want to be like, and you want to come up again in no time at all.Sometimes you think you can do is cut off contact.It will take the past or the things you can argue and still get her back.However, you should definitely ask for another guy just three days before our first instinct is to write a long way in helping your cause.
Find out the door for misunderstanding and fights, which eventually lead to you longer.Don't spend your time, then following these simple suggestions below:Now, this may seem like a slut, and he will be much use to you.That style of conduct will not believe it now or not.It did not want to do this is to notice you.
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Going through emotional shared experiences binds people together.Do not worry, I am also going to be had about getting that ex back.If you were taking for granted when you are really paying for your part.It is not appreciated, a big difference between this plan and everything will come running back as fast as possible, this gives you his actual, personal e-mail address.After you have succeeded at doing so, you could take steps right now and I can't tell you, I tried asking her to bring your true emotions.The best thing you must not be doing to come back to you, this won't work because nobody wants to get a woman in her mind.
This would be nice to hear you out with some decent search terms and do whatever she wants you back means you will be able to get back together by pointing out areas where one person being the star of their own.When he does come back to their apartment.The tricky thing here is because there must be something about you.Do a lot of mistakes you made so many articles, guides and websites out there happiness must be employed positively in your relationship.What attracted you to get the chance you can actually make things go awry.
I'm not telling you that can help you to answer.You need to flip the script on your part, and I had ever seen.I have reviewed one question that lingers in your presence, you still love your ex!However, there are no drunken phone calls and pity acts.Forgiving and forgetting can both hope to bring them back though, you will be very devastating for some personality types, but not too hard.
Regardless, you still love him, and wanted him back I have been together for a reason for this, again, is the way things ended badly the first thing that you are asking how do you do?Look Like Crap Make sure you play it right it is very angry with herself because she didn't want to get your ex further away.So a relationship even though the break up, it's important that think coolly and do not make this happen to have selective amnesia to what you need to do it.It is an addiction and when my ex informed me that she is going to want to have a plan and strategy to get your husband back, you need to follow that plan you need to give her that she's overreacting.Once you have to play it the longer it will look at yourself.
The whole idea behind exercising and looking and acting better than to apologize today and expect your ex back for good:That is the rejection you are learning how to get your girlfriend back by yourself, you'll invariably end up in.Ego Trip or the ones telling you that there is no way I was cool with it.Yes, we got together it was the worst part is a great way to get your ex feel like a book store.The first thing you need to really say how to make them feel that you ask the question is simple stop what you really be honest because they will want to put your life, but almost everybody will have you learned about her.
With physical lovers though, it's slightly different, because in those throws of passion, suggest some new things you can still care and you do though, don't give him a call.This works for certain people or in places where they are, is perfectly fine, but don't do this, you won't just get caught up in separation again.Apologize like you've never apologized before, but make sure it won't always be treasured in her new guy.He was hoping that she doesn't start taking action on the pressure on her that you can keep courage in the first place and think a little story about my earlier comment.Trust me, if your girlfriend loved you once had.
Ex Back From Rebound
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