#but then he networked my way someone who basically saved my final year project

[onlyfangz]

is there anything worse than when someone you deeply despise actually does you a massive solid and you have to wrestle with the feeling of Being Grateful?

[maxwell-grant]

What would a spider man: life story look like for the shadow?

Now that I've actually read Spider-Man: Life Story I can give this one a response. I'm gonna obsess about this question for a while because man what a ride Life Story was.

To those not in the know, the premise of Spider-Man: Life Story is: "In 1962, in AMAZING FANTASY #15, 15-year-old Peter Parker was bitten by a radioactive spider and became the Amazing Spider-Man! Fifty-seven years have passed in the real world since that event — so what would have happened if the same amount of time passed for Peter as well?" and basically it tells the story of Spider-Man as one continuous narrative spanning 57 years, from his beginnings to a potential future, allowing Peter Parker and his cast and world to age in real time and factor in elements from the character's major stories over the decades.

And it's got a lot into it that the premise doesn't convey and there is no way I can even begin tackling a project like this for the 90 goddamn years of The Shadow's history without seriously just writing an entirely different fanfic continuity (and I already have 5, plus multiverses, possibly more) and tipping off way too much about my own plans for the character. Even I have my limits.

So instead, what I'm gonna do is go over the broad strokes of The Shadow's history as it would look like if you could try and condense it all under a consistent narrative, if you could focus on each decade's highs and lows, what kind of story would arise if a deranged Shadow maniac like me were to try and build a basic skeleton for a The Shadow: Life Story story.

Basic rules first: I'm sticking to the idea of Life Story and spanning every decade from the beginning of the character's life to the end of it. The aging and death parts are important so I’m sticking to those. The character's canonical birth date is 1892, so he's not making it intact to the 2000s. We're capping this off in the 90s, although it doesn't mean no further stories can be told. I will avoid mentioning specific historical events like Vietnam and 9/11 for this post to instead focus on The Shadow's trajectory. I will also not be including other characters, only somewhat referencing whatever aspects I deem relevant. I'm not sticking to any continuity, I'm pulling literally everything I can for this one

And putting this one below the cut

The 1930s: The golden years. In 1930, after a long line of life experiences in the Great War and traveling around the world under dozens of names, the man formerly known as Kent Allard has taken to fighting crime in the Great Depression. This chapter would be more of a standard narrative showcasing the trajectory of The Shadow's 30s career, how he's started off as a urban myth fighting gangsters and then progressed to urban avenger with dozens of allies fighting spies and supervillains. Despite being in his home element, he is restless. Another war is on the horizon. We gotta know where he starts, to get a clue of where he's going.

The 1940s: Despite it being the "family friendly American hero" Shadow era, shit gets very, very chaotic in the 40s, way more so than The Shadow could have anticipated. The pulps were relatively tame for this period, by this point instead you have the radio with it's constantly rotating writers and sensibilities, and comics that had far less reservations about either being really boring or really wacky. Far more encounters with the supernatural than before and with supervillains like Devil Kyoti and Monstradamus and Solaris, plus Khan is still around. The Shadow is forced to spend a lot more time traveling the world to deal with the war, spending a prolonged period establishing headquarters in Japan to aid Japanese underground organizations opposing the military. The agents perform rescue missions on concentration camps, and this is the period where you could have the "real" Lamont Cranston start filling in for The Shadow a bit while he's overseas.

There's a particular blurb that got released during this period that explains The Shadow acquired the power to cloud men's minds not by training, but by journeying to Tibet in an unrecorded adventure that forced him to beg the monks to grant him assistance in saving the world. I have some very mixed feelings on this whole backstory but I think there's something to this idea. Some shit went down in the 40s that was way beyond what The Shadow could have anticipated, and to protect the world from it he had to tap into forces that perhaps should have been left untouched.

The 1950s: The Shadow has dissappeared from America alltogether. He gathered up his agents and announced he wouldn't return for at least a decade, and left them with enough money to last a lifetime and retire should they feel like it. Burbank and Cliff Marsland dissappeared with him, and this chapter would probably be told from the Agents's perspective as they face the 50s while we get snippets from Marsland on what The Shadow's been up to. Some of it involves The Shadow helping protect Tibet after Mao's takeover of China. The real Lamont Cranston doesn't put on the costume anymore and instead operates as a fairly regular detective, although he's training on the skills and powers he's picked up overseas. Whatever fantasy madness haunted the 1940s is all but gone.

The 50s had basically nothing in Shadow content other than the last legs of the radio show, which are 200 episodes from 1950 to 1954 that currently don't exist anymore outside of a few scripts. During this time, The Shadow's sole appearence in US content was a parody in MAD Magazine. Overseas however, there were original Shadow novels published in Norway (a story for another day), as well as a Mexican radio and film series, which also featured Cliff Marsland. I have little information on either.

The 1960s: The OG Shadow is still embroiled in conflicts overseas, but the rise of the criminal organization CYPHER forces him to mobilize Burbank and agents old and new alike to deflect CYPHER away from where he's at, although most of them have retired by now. He still cannot return, but he has been secretly instructing Lamont Cranston on furthering along his own latent abilities if he intends to take over in his stead, and Cranston's powers have grown and developed to a point that, although he is pushing 60, he is able to do things even the original Shadow could not. He also invests a lot in merchandising and costume changes, which...doesn't pan out. Nothing in this era really pans out. It's just a really, really frustrating period of bad luck and supervillains that the aging superpowered detective Cranston is able to stop. Lamont Cranston seems to die in this decade.

The 1970s: Inspired by The Shadow's DC series, and most importantly Michael Kaluta's spiffy redesign.

The original Shadow returns to a crime-torn America, intent on starting anew, and sets to rebuilding his network. But something is off about him. He's leaner, meaner, less compassionate and trusting. Just as what happened the first time he returned to America following years abroad, what happened in his sojourns overseas has fostered something inhuman in him, another sacrifice of his own identity for the sake of a world where the weed of crime has only proven more insidiuous. His powers have grown and so have his resources, but despite that, he's bordering on 80 years old by now, and cumulative trauma deep within his bones hampers his effectiveness. He's doing a lot better than he should, by any rights, but he can't keep this up and he knows it. And so, as before, he starts planning for it.

The 1980s: This was the decade where Walter Gibson died with his final Shadow story incomplete, all the movie plans from the 70s were canned, and Howard Chaykin happened, plus the other DC runs. It's the SHIT decade, basically, where everything goes to hell. Whatever plans The Shadow had blew up, dipshit copycats start ruining everything, his network crumbles, and this is probably the ideal decade to kill off Kent Allard.

But this is also the decade where something weird started happening outside of the story: The Ghost of Gay Street hauntings, where visitors on the hotel Gibson wrote the stories in repeteadly claimed to see a ghostly visitor looking exactly like Lamont Cranston, and Gibson himself claimed that to be a tulpa he created by accident.

Kent Allard may have died. But death can never claim The Shadow.

The 1990s-onwards: Somehow, The Shadow is still active. Still elderly, in a much more limited fashion, but still as sharp as ever if not more so. His powers have grown more so than ever before, even blossoming into a limited form of telekinesis. Is he a ghost? Did he somehow survive the events of the previous decade? Somehow, both Lamont Cranston and The Shadow linger on, but is it Kent Allard or Lamont Cranston? Is it someone else?

Who knows?

This is the decade in particular where he's going to be interacting with more prominently with a new generation, whether it's descendants of the original agents, or new heroes that have found themselves in his orbit. Inspired mainly by the Dark Horse Shadow comics, Ghost and The Shadow, and Peter Straub's Mystery and modern takes on the character like Batman x Shadow and the 2017 mini that play up the miserable immortal and ghost teacher aspects, also inspired by my recent realization that The Shadow's ideal future in-universe may be getting to age and mentor the next generation in some capacity.

Anything beyond that, only The Shadow Knows.

[bokunoheroanalysisforthefuture]

And we’re back for the second chapter, which is a lot shorter than the last - only half the size, thank goodness. I have a feeling this will go by somewhat faster than the first chapter, if only because there’s so much less happening per chapter and less worldbuilding to pick at.

Being up to forty followers already is actually really neat - I was expecting this project to go under the radar a bit longer. Thank you for all the likes and comments, and especially the reblogs! 

[No. 2 - Roaring Muscles]

Have to admit that the title page is definitely something - it’s deliberately styled in the same format as Western comic book covers. And in so, you can really see the difference in art style between the Westernized All Might and Horikoshi’s normal style for Izuku. 

The next page is a full body shot of All Might posing (RIP all the pens that died inking that one image), with some background panels covering the basics about the man - that his age and quirk are unknown, and that his strength has made him popular even since his debut. He’s got a lot of merch, branding, magazine covers, newspaper headlines, movie adaptations, etc etc. and, of course, that creepy fucking mask.

If Izuku has one of those, I am both disappointed and completely not surprised. I both look forward to and dread the day someone draws him wearing that monstrosity. Also-

Is that the same keychain Ochako gets during the Secret Santa swap in some hundred and twenty or so chapters? 

Alright, not the same one, but a similar pose. Not surprising, since I doubt Hori even remembered this panel at the point Ochako was given it, but it would have been an interesting little callback if it had been.

Moving on, we learn that since he became active, there’s been a notable decrease in the appearance rate of villains - with a graph showing the decline. His existence alone is a deterrent to villainy, which in no way will cause issues decades down the line. But yeah, basically Izuku confirms that All Might’s earned his title of ‘Symbol of Peace’ - and that the same man with so many accolades just told him he could be a hero.

(That last panel, of just Toshinori and Izuku, which is so uncluttered compared to the other panels… mmm, gotta love it. Makes it feel so much more poignant and dreamlike, which it probably was to Izuku at the time.)

The next page gets right to where we left off, with Izuku on the ground crying his eyes out while his mind plays through all the doubts and negative words thrown at him over the past chapter years. However, he’s finally heard what he’s always wanted to hear from this Alolan Exeggutor lookin’ dude:

Who also happens to be the No. 1 hero and Izuku’s idol. Izuku wonders if he could wish for anything more than that, so of course, Exeg- I mean Toshinori continues on, saying Izuku is worthy of inheriting his power. Which snaps Izuku out of his happy crying to actually look up at his idol, confused as heck.

BABEY.

But yeah, Toshinori laughs at Izuku’s expression and says that it’s a proposal, and that there’s work to be done. Also, this is the first instance of ‘my boy’ shown in the manga - while I know in Japanese it’s supposed to be just a translation of ‘young man’ or something close, I choose to see it in a different manner, as per my Dad Might agenda:

Look, you have to admit things went from 0 to 100 real fucking fast here, I will not take criticism on my interpretation. While we’re on the topic of ‘0 to 100’:

Toshinori please get that checked that’s a lot of blood jesus fuck. But yeah, he offers Izuku his power (which outside a shounen manga is questionable, kids, don’t trust that.) Izuku is still confused, naturally, so Toshinori clarifies he means his quirk. He explains how the tabloids like to guess what his quirk is, while he avoids answering with jokes, because All Might has to come off as a natural born hero.

(Also that dramatic posing, he’s such a fucking loser, I love him so much.)

You can really fucking tell he’s a performer at heart. I feel like it fits with his love of movies too - he probably liked acting out the dramatic hero speeches and fights in old superhero movies. Which I mean, also makes sense since heroes in the current era are as much actors and performers as they are public servants who handle crime and disasters.

Toshinori explains his quirk was passed down to him like the Olympic torch, which Izuku mentally stumbles over, and when that is confirmed, Izuku falls into a dazed rambling over this, completely tuning out of the outside world; he thinks about all the previous theories put out there, then basically confirming that his power being passed on is nothing anyone has ever considered, in part because there’s so little known about quirks, and even the reason ‘quirk’ [which in Japanese is ‘Individuality’] is used, because they’re unique to the person who wields said power. 

(Also, I want to know what the other six mysteries of the world are, Izuku. Why won’t you share that important tidbit with us? Worry about the quirk later!)

Toshinori cuts into his rambling, asking if Izuku really doubts him and that it’s nonsense, he has secrets but he doesn’t outright lie. Izuku does snap out and try to apologize, but Toshinori continues on:

One For All. Certainly a power that comes with no downsides, hidden legacies, or enough mysteries to fill the other six damned slots of the mysteries of the world. Izuku repeats the name slowly, and Toshinori goes on to explain it: 

A small detail to note, there’s eight lights in the background, already revealing how many holders there currently are at this point. Notice how much weaker OFA must have been back at the beginning, compared to the power Toshinori has, and then expand that to what Izuku starts out with. And interestingly, it’s called a ‘crystalline network of power’, and that it ‘links those crying out to be saved and those with brave and true hearts.’ For our first description of OFA, it… sure seems poetic and almost romantic. Wonder if that will hold up in the chapters to come.

Anyways, moving on from that, Izuku asks why him, and Toshinori says he’s been looking for a successor, and that he believes Izuku worthy. Even as someone who is quirkless and a ‘mere hero admirer’, he was more heroic than anyone else there. Izuku tears up again, and Toshinori slaps himself in the forehead, saying it all depends on what Izuku says. 

Izuku gets to his feet and rubs away the tears, thinking about what he’s been told and how Toshinori’s greatest secrets (hah) have been divulged to him. He asks himself if he has reason to refuse, and immediately decides that no, he doesn’t, and tells Toshinori he accepts while reaffirming he’s got no reason to refuse. Toshinori says he expected nothing less than that quick answer. 

Seriously, look at the intensity of that reply, he is down and willing to do this. No second guessing, no hesitation. 

This seems like a good stopping point, since the second half of the chapter is all the training, including the montages, so I’ll finish things up in the next one (yes, I know, not taking five posts to get to the point, who would have thought?) and we can get into the crazy fun stuff. 

[limjaeseven]

Dandelions

Pairing: Yugyeom X Youngjae

Genre: Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 4,199

Summary: Flowers meant to a lot to Yugyeom, Youngjae made them special to him.

Warnings: Weird pacing, lingerie, implied smut, Yugjae being absolute cuties, cursing, mention of an emotional breakdown

Prompt(s): School is hard. It is less hard when you have someone to help out.

[a/n]: This fic is part of @got7writerscollective​‘s The Virgo Project. Applications for the net are open so check the pinned post of the blog if you wish to join the network

The wind was blowing in Yugyeom's face as he made his ways up the Arts buildings's steps on a warm spring afternoon. Making his way to the dance studio at the end off the hall, the ravenette passed the music room to hear the most beautiful voice he'd ever heard. 

Yugyeom froze in place as he processed the sound that flooded his ears. The soft melody of a piano accompanied the words as they made their way out of the room to Yugyeom. The voice, full and unimaginably warm, filled Yugyeom's body with such hope that his heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. Turning quietly in the direction of the room, he peeked into the music room.

The softest brown hair, the prettiest heart shaped smile, the finest fingers, the brightest eyes that Yugyeom had ever seen filled his senses as he stared at the boy sitting in front of the grand piano in the music room. His forehead clear of worry as he looked down as the sheet in front of him and played the instrument with expertise made Yugyeom mesmerised. 

But the ravenette was soon pulled out of his haze as the music abruptly stopped. He looked up to see the boy looking back at him, his eyes blown wide, almost as if he was a scared. Yugyeom composed himself and cleared his throat awkwardly, reaching one hand up the scratch at the back of his neck. 

"Do you always sneak around to creepily watch people?" The boy at the keyboard broke the silence first, his comment making Yugyeom's ears redden. 

"You sing really well, I was just heading to the dance studio and stopped to listen" Yugyeom tried hard not to stutter but it was hard with the most beautiful man he had ever seen in his life in front of him. The man stood up to walk to Yugyeom, stopping in front of him and extending his hand.

"Choi Youngjae" Yugyeom hesitantly took the man's hand, smiling back brightly as he slowly felt himself relax into the touch. He introduced himself before remembering that he was running late for class. Shouting a small apology, the ravenette ran across the hall to enter the practise room just in time.

When he finishes, the music room is empty, save for a small note pasted on the piano lid. Yugyeom saw his name written in a pretty handwriting on the front as he peeled the small bit of tape carefully. 

Choi Youngjae had left his number for Yugyeom to find, hoping he would come back to search for him. The younger felt his heart skip a beat when he saw Youngjae's number and 'go on a date with me?' scrawled cutely on the piece of paper.

Yugyeom ended up staring at the piece of paper for hours before he could muster up the courage to actually text Youngjae. He retyped the message a million times before settling on 'hey it's Yugyeom' before sending it and throwing his phone across the bed so that he wouldn't stress over the boy replying.

After forcing himself to wash the dishes that had been piling up in the sink of the apartment Yugyeom shared with his childhood best friend Bambam, he finally heard the notification bell of his phone go off, and Yugyeom would never admit it but he almost leapt over his bed to grab his phone and see if the brunette had replied.

The conversation started slow at first, going over the basic 'what's up's and 'how's life's, but soon both boys realised they had a lot more in common than they had originally expected. From their love of music to their weird obsession with MasterChef, the two boys ended up spending an hour texting before Youngjae called Yugyeom on the phone.

Yugyeom almost had a mini heart attack as he felt his phone vibrate in his hands, Youngjae's contact popping up on the screen. The younger mumbled a shy hello which was met with bubbling laughter from Youngjae's end who didn't hide the fact that he found Yugyeom cute, much to the younger's dismay, who wanted to portray a more "sexy" appearance, not so different from that of his cousin's boyfriend Jaebeom. 

After hours of talking about seemingly everything but at the same time what felt like absolutely nothing, Yugyeom looked at his window to see the first rays of the sun peak through his sheer curtains, signaling dawn. Fortunately for both the young men, they had their day off so they bid each other good night, or rather morning with the promise of meeting for lunch at a local restaurant. When enquired if it was meant to be a date, Youngjae merely chuckled and told the younger to get some sleep.

Not more than six hours later, Yugyeom was up on his feet, walking impatiently across the small flat, much to Bambam's dismay, who usually slept till late afternoon on off days. The ravenette spent an ungodly amount of time trying to pick an outfit and in the end settled for a pair of black skinny jeans that really accentuated his long dancer legs, a black and white checkered shirt and a pair of lace up boots that he may or may not have stolen from Bambam's closet.

The anticipation led him to reach the restaurant ten minutes before the time they had agreed to meet up, so he took the liberty of picking a table for him, distracting himself for just a few moments. Yugyeom selected a small table next to a large floor to ceiling window which let the sunlight fill the room with an almost angelic feeling, similar to how he felt when he first met Youngjae. 

The older man arrived five minutes late and proceeded to apologise profusely for his tardiness to which Yugyeom just laughed at his cuteness and signalled the waiter to their table. After catching Youngjae trying to pick the cheapest thing on the menu, Yugyeom insisted that the older pick what he really liked, and that the ravenette would pay for the meal, for it was a date after all.

The comment caught Youngjae off guard, which gave Yugyeom enough time to figure out what Youngjae had originally wanted to order and asked for it himself. The elder slapped the boy's arm which just made both of them laugh out loud, a bit misplaced in the slightly posh environment but Yugyeom absolutely loved it.

"I never said it was a date," Said Youngjae with an adorable pout, making the butterflies and the sudden urge to kiss the elder resurface in him. 

"Well I'm saying it is, any objections?" To which Youngjae didn't say anything because he knew he was just playing around with the younger. Their food arrived in the midst of their conversation about the best seasons of MasterChef America and it was eaten and plates taken away without the two men ever realising, their eyes locked onto each other. 

Yugyeom did end up paying for the meal, not that he really minded, being lucky enough to come from a well off family with parents who gave him generous allowances. Youngjae on the other hand came from a small village, where his family worked as farmers and couldn't pay for his college tuition so Youngjae had to earn his scholarship on his own, making him very careful about money. 

Yugyeom and Youngjae's relationship bloomed in the summer of the year that they met, first becoming inseparable friends before the love dyed itself into the fabric of their relationship. They learned small things about each other along the way, like how Youngjae loved to sing while doing almost anything, his brows furrowed in concentration as his lips formed the words of the song.

Youngjae on the other hand learned about his boyfriend's love for flowers, noticing it first with the four flower vases in the man's house. He made it a habit to buy his boyfriend a singe flower every day, a gesture that Yugyeom blushed at profusely the first time but grew to love, anticipating the type of flower he would receive every coming day.

On their third month anniversary, one that Yugyeom found rather unnecessary to celebrate, Youngjae took the man on a date which entailed driving for almost two hours, much to Yugyeom's dismay, who was dying of anticipation since he had no idea where his boyfriend was taking him. After jamming to rather suggestive music that Yugyeom seemed to have an obsession with, they arrived at their destination, which was more like an empty road on the countryside but Youngjae said they had reached so Yugyeom got out of the car.

In front of the ravenette was acres of yellow flowers that never seemed to end. As far his eyes could see, small, bright bursts of sunlight sat on top of the greenery, making the place look almost as if it was a picture of heaven, not the earth that Yugyeom inhabited. Youngjae laced his fingers with his boyfriend's and led him through the small gaps between the massive patches of flowers to a clearing somewhere in the middle, far away from civilization and surrounded by nature.

In the clearing was a red checkered blanket and a basket full of Yugyeom's favourite food, including an iced choco which was suspiciously cold. Both of them settled on the ground, enjoying the environment around them, the bright sun and quiet atmosphere having its own charm.

"Dandelions," Youngjae said "I've read somewhere that dandelions signify wishes and having them fulfilled. I had wished when I was young to meet a person who stole my heart and cared for it, instead of breaking it. I know it's really early for us, but I have a feeling that I've gotten my wish." Yugyeom had tried to keep his composure and not act too surprised at the statement but the way he choked on his drink and his ears went red made Youngjae burst out laughing and made Yugyeom wonder if he's actually fallen in love with an angel.

Things were going great till finals season rolled around. Yugyeom's degree had required a compulsory English course and if there was one thing Yugyeom knew for sure about himself it was that he was absolutely terrible at English. Yugyeom spent hours pouring over a Korean to English dictionary and his notes but nothing made sense to him, the words floating in his mind with no meaning to hold them together.

After four days of locking himself in his bedroom and three days of not charging his phone, the sounds of someone harshly knocking on his door woke him up from the restless sleep he had fallen into on his study table.

"What is it, Bam?" Yugyeom shouted, annoyed. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, trying to get rid of the sleep that still lingered in them before harshly opening the door to see a very angry looking Youngjae, along with his cousin Jinyoung standing in front of him.

The two men pushed the door wide open and sat down on the younger's bed, looking extremely displeased at the energy bar wrappers and empty take out boxes littered amongst stacks of paper in the ravenette's room. Yugyeom looked at them guiltily, hanging his head. Jinyoung was about to say something when his phone started ringing loudly. The man gave Yugyeom a dirty look before excusing himself to pick up the call.

"What the hell is this, Yugyeom? I've been trying to contact you for days and you seemingly drop off the face of the earth. I tried to contact Bambam but he was out of town visiting his parents and I was so worried about you! I showed up here twice but you never opened the front door! I went to Jaebeom hyung as a last resort and Jinyoung hyung mentioned having a pair of keys to your apartment and I dragged him immediately to meet you. What do you think you're doing?" Youngjae, usually the sweet angel who never got mad at Yugyeom, was fuming as he shouted at his boyfriend.

Yugyeom looked at the way his boyfriend stood there, pointing a finger at him and shouting, but he didn't hear a word he said. It was as if his brain had shut off as it slowly processed what was happening. He had spent four days trying to study for his exams but he knew nothing, and it wasn't him being pessimistic, he really had no idea what the words written on the paper meant, he had no idea how he was going to make it through the paper. He couldn't fail, his parents didn't spend so much money to send him to one of the most prestigious colleges in the country for him to fail at something as simple as English.

It felt like the world came crashing around Yugyeom, all over an exam he couldn't fail if he didn't want to repeat the course next semester. It was just the fact that Yugyeom had never failed at anything in life, yes, he was from quite a privileged family but it wasn't like he didn't face any hardships in life, and for those that he did, he always worked hard and got through it and for the first time it felt like nothing would get him though this. He suddenly felt his legs give out under him as he fell to his knees, face hidden in his palms, shoulders shaking from the choked sobs that left his lips.

"....gyeom, Yugyeom, Yugyeom baby can you hear me?" Youngjae ran to his boyfriend as he saw him collapse onto the floor, kneeling in front of him and shaking him vigorously to get him back to his sense. Yugyeom snapped out of his haze as he heard Youngjae calling his name. His head shot up to look at the brunette, the tears only streaming down faster as his boyfriend pulled him in for a tight hug and he nuzzled his face in the elder's shoulder.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay" Youngjae kept chanting, rocking Yugyeom back and forth. Guilt welled in Youngjae's heart, blaming himself for getting too angry at his boyfriend. He shouldn't have shouted so loudly, he shouldn't have been so harsh, thought Youngjae. His head kept finding more reasons to blame himself for his boyfriend's current state before his train of thought broke when Jinyoung stepped in to see the two men sitting on the floor, clinging tightly onto each other.

It took awhile for Yugyeom to calm down and clear his head. Jinyoung brought him a glass of water which he chugged harshly, almost getting some of it in his windpipe. After a round of cuddling in silence, Yugyeom started feeling more like himself. Once he could speak without bursting into tears, he explained everything to the two men, half expecting them to judge him for having a breakdown over something so petty.

Much to his surprise, Youngjae just hugged him tightly, while Jinyoung opted to pet his hair and reassure that it's alright to feel stressed over his work. Yugyeom had always been someone who strived for perfection, it showed in his dancing, and sometimes when things didn't work out, he could get stressed and that was okay, Jinyoung told him. 

Jaebeom showed up after a while, mainly to check on Yugyeom and pick Jinyoung up to go back home. Youngjae ran to give his friend a hug, the brunette had always considered the man to be like his own older brother, having had lived as roommates in Youngjae's freshman year of college. The elder also told Yugyeom to accept that he was stressed about the exam and work to get through it, and that he would always love and support him, regardless of what happened in the future. 

Once the couple left Yugyeom's apartment, Youngjae lingered, cooking some dinner that they had on the living room couch together, sitting at either end and playing footsie while the TV played in the background, not that either of them paid any attention to it. Just as Youngjae was about to tuck Yugyeom in and leave, the younger held onto the brunette's wrist and asked him to sat, and Youngjae obliged.

"I'm sorry, gyeom, I didn't mean to shout at you, I was really worried" Yugyeom pressed his lips on to his boyfriend's instead of answering him at first, but that wasn't a good enough response to Youngjae, who proceeded to pull away, much to Yugyeom's dismay.

"What I did was pretty reckless and shitty hyung. I could have let you know that I had an exam coming up, or that I was busy. Ghosting you was wrong, I'm the one who should be sorry" Youngjae just shook his head and pressed a soft kiss to his boyfriend's forehead. 

"Oh also, if you're struggling with English you could have asked me, I did the same course last semester and topped the batch" Youngjae said casually, earning a harsh slap across his arm. The elder just chuckled and pulled Yugyeom close but the ravenette was mad and so he pushed himself away from Youngjae and sat up.

"Why couldn't you have told me this earlier? I spent four days trying to figure out what a single paragraph meant!" Yugyeom slapped Youngjae's arm again when the older started laughing uncontrollably but stopped when he saw his boyfriend pout. 

"You never asked, Gyeomie. This is why we talk to each other, communicate, you know? Anyways, don't worry, I'll help you pass the exam" Youngjae kept that promise well, he spent the next week tutoring Yugyeom, who was able to understand enough to pass the test just two days in. They would have finished preparing for the exam earlier but Yugyeom kept getting distracted by Youngjae's lips, by how cute they looked when he spoke English, and kept trying to steal kisses from the elder. 

By the end of the week Youngjae was so frustrated of ending up in bed at the end of the evening instead of finishing Yugyeom's studies that he decided to use it to his advantage. On the day before Yugyeom's exam, Youngjae arrived at his place in a long coat tied tightly around his waist. Noticing Yugyeom's questioning gaze over the outfit since it was still warm for thick coats, Youngjae opened the tie at the front to reveal the outfit he had bought from the mall the night before. 

Soft yellow fabric covered his waist and legs in the form of a pair of lacy panties, a silky garter belt and sheer thigh highs. Youngjae had paired the ensemble with a cropped top, again in Yugyeom's favourite colour, yellow. Youngjae could visibly see the way Yugyeom swallowed harshly, stepping closer to touch the elder but instead had his hands slapped away before Youngjae discarded the robe and moved to sit down at Yugyeom's desk.

"Pass your test tomorrow, and you get to fuck me in this; don't and I throw this away immediately, it would be a pity but that's the deal" Yugyeom struggled to pay attention to his studies that night but Youngjae's proposition had left the younger hungry and motivated to do well at his exam, if not just to get the opportunity to see his boyfriend come undone all dolled up in the lingerie.

Yugyeom thought he did pretty well at his test, but it turned out that he didn't just to well, he topped his batch. The ravenette, overjoyed at the result, snapped a picture of his rank and sent it to his boyfriend. He put his phone back into his pocket, not having the time to wait for a reply since he was getting late for his next class.

By the time Yugyeom was done with his classes and arrived back at his apartment he was beyond exhausted. He opened the door to see Bambam watching RuPaul's drag race.  The elder shouted a hello and Yugyeom responded with a small wave before heading to his room. The scream that followed the sound of Yugyeom's bedroom door opening made Bambam rush to see what was going on, only to see Youngjae sitting on his roommates bed in lingerie.

"My eyes!" Bambam screamed, which made Yugyeom snap out of his haze. Realising that his best friend had just seen his scantily clad boyfriend, the younger pushed Bambam out of his room and locked the door before turning back to see Youngjae walking slowly towards him.

"My baby did so well, didn't he? Well I had a promise to keep so here I am. What do you think?" Youngjae twirled around to let Yugyeom get a good view of his outfit. The younger pulled his boyfriend in for a rough kiss, pulling one moan after the other from the elder.

It didn't take long for the two men to end up in bed and one intense round of sex later, the two basked in the afterglow of their orgasms, cuddling close. One traumatised Bambam aside, Yugyeom was in seventh heaven, he was doing well with his studies, he met the love of his life and sex was incredible.

Life unfortunately was not easy for either of them after that day. There were ups, but there were just as many downs in their life, in their relationship, in their studies and it was a struggle to get through the day sometimes but regardless of what happened, they were always by each other's side, helping them cross the finish line, one day at a time. 

Then came a day, it was in the middle of fall, four years into their relationship, both having graduated from college and living together in their own little apartment, when a visitor dropped by their house out of nowhere.

Yugyeom opened the door, seeing a man standing in front of him, asking for Youngjae. Calling his boyfriend from his bedroom, the elder emerged to see the man at the door and freeze, his jaw dropped open. Just as Yugyeom was about to ask the man what was wrong, Youngjae ran across to hug the stranger tightly, wrapping his hands tightly around his neck and laughing loudly.

"Yugyeom, this is Younghyun, but I call him Brian. He was my childhood best friend but left Mokpo in highschool to study in Canada!" Youngjae explained excitedly while Younghyung whined about being called Brian, which apparently the man hated. 

Yugyeom hated to assume things but seeing how close the two were and how much skinship they shared, Yugyeom couldn't help but feel jealous of Younghyun. The man was incredibly handsome and witty, making Youngjae burst into his iconic laugh every five minutes or so. Yugyeom could feel his blood boiling, as hard as he tried to control it. 

Younghyun had made all the insecurities that Yugyeom carried in his heart, resurface. Being with Youngjae wasn't easy, the elder was sweet and well loved by all. Yugyeom had often spent hours wondering why Youngjae had chosen him out of all the people that would have killed to date the man. 

Yugyeom knew he was madly in love with his boyfriend, they had confessed their true feelings towards each other six months prior but sitting there, across from his boyfriend and his best friend as they chatted happily, Yugyeom felt like he was missing something, almost like a physical sign to bound them together. They were too young to get married but Yugyeom still wanted to show Youngjae that he was going to be there forever. 

So, exactly four months after the day Yugyeom had his epiphany when he met Younghyun, on the day of their fifth anniversary, Yugyeom dragged his boyfriend to the local tattoo parlor where Jaebeom worked. He begged the elder to accompany him for moral support for getting his first tattoo.

Yugyeom wanted Youngjae to be there with him but refused to reveal the design he had asked Jaebeom to draw for him till it was complete. After hours of waiting and a lot of pain, it was done, and Yugyeom loved it. He hugged Jaebeom tightly and thanked him for his wonderful work before turning to Youngjae.

The younger turned to the side to show off his rib cage which now has a beautiful flower inked on it. It was harsh and masculine with its sharp geometric style but still radiated the soft beauty that the elder associated with his boyfriend.

"Dandelions, " Yugyeom said, "You told me they have to do with having your wishes fulfilled, but they also stand for surviving through all challenges and difficulties, hyung. The last five years have been the happiest times of my life and I never want to get go of that, of you. This here, is my love for you and what you've given me, inked to my body. I love you hyung, more than you'll ever realise" Youngjae pulled the younger in for a deep kiss, tears running down his cheeks at the devotion the younger displayed for their love. It may not be perfect, but it was theirs and that made it perfect.

[things2mustdo]

Recently there’s been a lot of talk about whether or not the media has our best interests at heart, and with more and more men awakening from the feminist matrix, it seems that the mainstream media is going the way of the dinosaur.

Donald Trump has been urging the public not to trust the mainstream media, but I’m sure that if you’re a reader of Return Of Kings, you don’t need him to tell you that. The modern mainstream media is basically the same thing as the Church was in the 1200’s—they control the flow of information, and they don’t like it when people disagree with them. In fact, if someone who disagrees with them gets popular enough, they often times resort to smear campaigns (see: smearing Roosh as a manipulative pickup artist, and Milo as a pedophile apologist).

Now, I know what you’re thinking—“I know the media doesn’t report on things, Jon, but fake news? That’s, like, intentionally lying and manipulating information, isn’t it?” Yes, sir, it is—and this is what the mainstream media, particularly CNN, has been doing ever since television became popular.

Here’s 5 examples of how CNN is, in fact, “fake news”:

1. Kicking Bernie Sanders Off-Air

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BWQcxUIYUcQ

Bernie Sanders, the unofficial leader of the socialist movement in America, recently called CNN “fake news,” before being kicked off the air. CNN tried to play this off as a “connection issue,” but anyone with a grain of common sense knows better.

Bernie: “…who is the head of Russia, and now we’re learning that there may have been discussions between Flynn and the Russians, about sanctions, before this administration took power. So this is very, very troubling, and I think the president is going to have to tell us what he’s gonna do about it.”

CNN Anchor: “So far he hasn’t said much…he was asked about Flynn on his flight to Mar-a-Lago late today…here’s how he responded:

[plays clip of Donald Trump denying obvious lie directed towards him]

CNN Anchor: “He says he hasn’t seen any of these reports. Is that a problem?”

Bernie: “Well, I don’t know, maybe he was watching CNN Fake News, what do you think?”

Bernie: [sees her offended look] “It was a joke.”

CNN Anchor: “You don’t buy what he said, obviously?”

Bernie: “Erin?”

Bernie: “Kevin, I’m not—are we on?”

CNN Anchor: “Umm, it looks like we’ve lost connection with Senator Sanders…”

Right, of course. You just happened to “lose connection,” with Senator Sanders conveniently right after he called you fake news.

2. “Racism” Is Why Adele Won Grammy

After Adele won the song of the year, record of the year, and best solo pop performance awards, it wasn’t long before CNN charged in to proclaim that “racism,” was the cause. CNN “reports”:

…”but with its racial themes and imagery, some are questioning if the project was “just too black” for Grammy voters. Kevin Powell, author of the memoir “The Education of Kevin Powell” and a forthcoming biography on rapper Tupac Shakur, thinks so. He told CNN “Beyonce’s ‘Lemonade’ made a lot of people uncomfortable, because it is so political, so spiritual, so unapologetically black, and so brutally honest about love, self-love, trust, betrayal.”

Right, because apparently Beyonce, despite being nominated for 62 Grammy awards, and winning a whopping 22 Grammy awards, is being discriminated against. In the Leftist’s delusional reality, any time a white person succeeds, it’s due to “racism,” yet any time a black person succeeds, it’s due to “overcoming insurmountable odds.”

Give me a break. Adele won the Grammy, because the panel thought her songs were better, period. This has nothing to do with racism, but apparently CNN still thinks it’s a good idea to race-bait the hell out of current events in 2017. I don’t see this changing anytime soon, either.

3. Venezuela Bans CNN For Lies

According to Fox News World, the president of Venezuela actually asked CNN to leave:

“CNN, do not get into the affairs of Venezuelans. I want CNN well away from here—outside of Venezuela. Do not put your nose in Venezuela.” -Nicolas Maduro

…and can you blame him? CNN has repeatedly shown how ridiculously biased they are, and they’ve shown how willing to lie they are, for the past year after running a gigantic smear campaign against Donald Trump.

Didn’t CNN claim that The Donald had a 3% chance of being elected president? What did they do, just poll the gender studies department at UC Berkeley? I wouldn’t be surprised if they did, because nobody in their right mind would ever accidentally come to the conclusion that our current president had a 3% chance of winning.

In fact, other independent journalists such as Mike Cernovich actually predicted that Donald would win months before the election day in November—how? Because they saw the trends. They saw that men were tired of being emasculated and having their lives ruined, they saw that we’re tired of being shamed for our whiteness, and they saw that the people of America were starting to wake up from their NWO conditioning.

4. “Our Job Is To Control Exactly What People Think.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NoXGV4Vw-VA

Yeah, yeah—I know this one isn’t CNN, but they’re all the same to me. MSNBC, NBC, CBS, ABC, CNN, and even Fox News to an extent…they’re all just different heads on the same globalist-controlled hydra. Buckle in though, boys, because this one’s pretty bad…and it just happened days ago.

Mika Brzezinski, whose name should automatically create suspicion in the wary citizen, recently stated on MSNBC that it’s “our job,” to “control exactly what people think.” I honestly couldn’t even make this stuff up, but if you don’t believe me, you can watch it in the video above.

Mika Brzezinski: “Well, I think the dangerous edges here are that he’s trying to undermine the media, trying to make up his own facts, and it could be that while unemployment and the economy worsens, he could have undermined the messaging so much that he could control exactly what people think…and that is our job.”

No, Mika, that isn’t your job. Your job is to report the facts and let THE PEOPLE decide what to think, but if you can’t get that through your thick skull I guess we’ll just stop watching your crappy network.

5. Donald Trump Calls CNN “Fake News”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PZI0Q3LQZmo

Ah, I saved the best for last—I do love me some Donald burns. After a CNN “news reporter” tried to aggressively ask Donald a question for some odd 20 seconds, repeatedly interrupting him and interjecting his way into the conversation, Donald lost it and called him “fake news.”

And who could blame him? They spent the last 8 months doing absolutely everything within their power to completely ruin Donald Trump’s chances at winning…and yet, by the grace of God, and by the memes of Pepe, lord of Keks, the Trump train smashed its way through the entire god damn establishment…and won.

Trump: [to other reporter] “Go ahead.”

CNN Fake News: “MR. PRESIDENT SINCE YOU’RE ATTACKING US CAN YOU GIVE US A QUESTION!”

Trump: [to CNN] “No.”

Trump: [to other reporter]: “Go ahead.”

CNN Fake News: “MR. PRESIDENT ELECT! MR. PRESIDENT ELECT! SINCE YOU ARE ATTACKING OUR NEWS ORGANIZATION,”

Trump: [to CNN] “No, not you.”

Trump: [to other reporter] “Go ahead.”

CNN Fake News: “CAN YOU GIVE US A QUESTION,”

Trump: [to CNN] “Not you.”

CNN Fake News: “GIVE US A CHANCE! MR PRESIDENT”

Trump: [to CNN] “Your organization’s terrible.”

CNN Fake News: “CAN YOU GIVE US A CHANCE, JUST LET US ASK…”

Trump: [to CNN] “Your organization’s terrible.”

CNN Fake News: “LET US ASK A QUESTION, SIR! SIR!”

Trump: [to CNN] “Quiet.”

This goes on for literally 25 seconds, before Trump finally becomes visibly angry and proclaims:

Trump: [to CNN] “You are fake news.”

If the President of the United States of America thinks that CNN is fake news, I think they’re probably fake news.

Summary

In conclusion, if you still watch the mainstream media, don’t. Get your news from real news sites, like Return Of Kings, Info Wars, Gateway Pundit, Drudge Report, and Cernovich. The MSM has shown us multiple times in the past that they’re globalist whores, selling out the American public to fatten their own pockets.

I recently bought an Info Wars shirt to start wearing around in public, and the results have restored my faith in America. Everywhere I wear it, I’ve gotten complements—it’s not that often, but you’d be surprised how many men are awake, but just don’t broadcast it.

The MSM would have you believe that 99% of the American public hates Trump, but it’s really only something like 10% who hate him, and maybe 25% more who dislike him.

I usually wear Info Wars, Breitbart, and Trump apparel to the gym, because most guys who have a shredded six pack from lifting heavy ass weights are strong and masculine, and are therefore not subject to stupid social pressures that the media uses to influence you.

Do your part in spreading the good gospel of the manosphere, the alt-news, and the resurgence of America, and we’ll reclaim our country for sure. Let’s all make America great again.

https://www.returnofkings.com/165920/how-journalists-became-whores

Journalists are supposed to follow a set of rules and values called deontology. These rules say journalists should strive to be impartial, objective, and to inform their readers. We know well this is not the true nature of their activity.

Most MSM journalists today if not all are spinsters. They cherry-pick their facts and craft narratives around to steer people towards an untold yet ever-present agenda. They make up stereotypes while attacking other stereotypes, they make up ideas while attacking other ideas, as it suits the editorial line of their employer.

In the name of information, journalists create and fulfill an artificially constructed consciousness. They are paid to do so. They believe what they’re doing is normal or cool, just like the Ministry of Truth in Orwell’s 1984, where officers burn archives then forget they just destroyed records (soon to be rewritten); your average leftist journalist spins all the time, follows all the time, yet doesn’t even know he spins and follows.

A little bit of history

If you lend an ear to leftist historians, up to perhaps to age of discoveries, the West didn’t know much. Everybody were locked into their own towns and fields. Well, this is not true. Europeans had known about the Silk Road from time immemorial. Kings and the clergy had their messengers, their events, their gatherings. Individuals like Saint Bernard or Saint Thomas of Aquino were quite familiar with communicating at a distance.

It was just much slower than today—and quite of a luxury as well. Common folk had to rely on minstrels, travelers, and on their own travels. Most communication was done orally. Academics today love to point out how unreliable the bush telegraph is, but at least this communication is done naturally between common people rather than top-down from a shadowy agenda.

Also, as slow as this word-to-mouth communication was, people then did not need more: they could make a living on their own, with the insurance that they could consume it themselves or sell it. Markets tended to be stable, and whether you were a field-tiller or a craftsman, you didn’t need to know about the latest fad not to be left behind. People were also much less bored and in need of diversions. Didn’t have newspapers, didn’t need them.

Then came the printing press. What had been done by scribes secluded in monasteries became partly automatized and multiplied. Bibles were printed. Then pamphlets. By the time, Protestantism had well developed, clever princes tried to use it to their advantage, and the Catholic church counter-attacked by launching one of the most manipulative orders ever created.

More power to independent people meant chaos. Printing outside of the rigid hierarchy of the Church meant a never-ending contest of ideas, systems, tastes, experiences, and egos. The hypocritical journalists of now who chide “trolls” while sniffing their own written farts should remember that trolling appeared as a side-effect of the printing press, as it became possible to say anything remotely instead of being necessarily confrontable. Plus, trolling helps to think of things to talk about with a girl.

Nevertheless, printing what you wanted was not that simple. First, literacy was still the hallmark of a comfortable upbringing, and second, you had to be able to print. You had to know a printer, had to make a deal with him and pay him. Not to mention the dissemination of your lovely printed book. It was always possible to print in a country with virtually no censorship, then smuggle books, but who was to receive them and share them?

No matter what you had to say, you always needed to address a noble-bourgeois audience, which meant catering to fashionable topics or debates. Otherwise, your material would be simply ignored. Authors who weren’t too well-known had to rely on booksellers who conspired to arrange a discrete monopoly on over-the-counter books. Yep, the world of “culture” has always been murky, and its members believe this is a sign of their superior intelligence.

As “culture” developed, with its train of noise, untold rivalries and social parasitism, periodic journals were printed at an ever-faster pace. Eighteenth century bi-annuals were replaced by daily or weekly newspapers. Which meant a great need, not for amateur gentlemen, but for people who could write constantly. Such people would be called journalists.

The modern journalist plant

If you believe journalism is about informing the public, forget it immediately. There is no such thing as an automatic progress which just makes happen what seems desirable. If an unbiased, all-objective information seems desirable, that does not mean someone will pay for it or even manage to get it. Even the CIA Factbook was made in the first place because objective information would benefit the CIA itself, not “enlighten the masses” or whatever a leftist salesman would say.

A journalist is basically someone who is paid to write on particular issues, in a well-defined format, as his boss sees fit. A journal belongs to someone—no matter if the owner is public or private—who usually has its own aims. Whether the newspaper has to simply sell or shape the opinion, it always aims at something else than merely informing.

(Even ROK has an agenda, and I’m fine with it, because I believe it is sound and fair, but I’d never pretend I write for the sole love of truth or as if I was a disembodied soul with no consciousness of its own. Any writer having such pretenses is a hypocrite or a liar.)

Back to the nineteenth century. Newspapers were just like factories. As plant workers had to churn tangible products, journalists had to churn out impressions. They were like paid artists for the ephemeral, creating appearances that would sell, or satisfy, or infuriate—anything as long as it suited the editorial line of their employer. Journalists did not become whores. They were paid employees, to put it politely, from day one. But at least the blue collar workers had to pretense to say the truth or illuminate or whatever BS that sells.

Let’s say you were born with a high verbal IQ, a knack for writing, and some ideas. What could you do? You may consider writing books, become an intellectual, but book writing takes time and often doesn’t pay. If you can’t live like an annuitant, you must be an employee.

If you choose the written words, you have to conform to a preexisting editorial line, to a particular milieu that already existed before you did, in hope of being granted a job. Creating a journal demanded not only experience but capital as well. Can you pay a printer? Would a banker trust you if you asked him for a loan so you can start a journal?

As the nineteenth century was an epoch of exceptional growth, some people had this capital or trust, and many independent journals were formed. Many, though, were bought off, or chased away, or censored. The elite does not want you to become an influencer, unless, of course, you remain a perpetual servant of their agenda.

This is why mild conservatives are accepted as a stooge opposition, along with the alt lite, whereas those who really want to save civilization and its creators are reviled. The elites want to destroy civilization, so, their journalists, who all depend on them socially and financially, foster their agenda while lying to themselves on the nature of what they do.

So-called investigators are paid by Darth Soros to “investigate” on convenient targets while turning a blind eye on other things, like mass immigration, or upholding a mandatory narrative which rests not on truth but on pure social conformism—muh minorities r always good, muh white males r always wrong.

Perhaps the “fake news” offensive has been crafted, not only to maintain the masses into the blue pill matrix, but also to reassure the frail employees that they are serving truth and progress. Which is already dubious, as worshiping an arbitrary strand of “progress” has nothing to do with objectivity, just as the contemporary humanities are rather a Hollywood for nerds than a place of real knowledge, but you can’t ask vapid girls to get to this level.

No one writes for the sake of truth alone. Independent writers or journalists also speak of what they think relevant. They will mention XYZ facts because these are important, or, at least, ensure a modicum of success. Just like men tend to read Miyamoto Musashi quotes, not merely because he existed, but because he’s interesting.

Mainstream journalists are courtiers. They are paid by global elites to do their bidding. They work in cities just like filmmakers work in grand obscure studios—because their activity lies in creating perceptions, in shaping fashions, ideas, mottos, norms. The difference between a marketer, a journalist and a filmmaker is only of scale and means. The aim, and the bottom, is the same.

We are different, because we are bottom-up. When mainstream journalists sold their souls, we are upholding ours. The problem with this is that we’re ill-paid. The globalists and the boomers tend to concentrate all the money, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to witness that the non-mainstream outlets tend to all lack money. Such is the price of independence.

We ought to have our own money elsewhere, and have a lot of independent journalists around, so that autonomous individuals from our side can work or investigate and help masculine men to shape their own consciousness.

[gremlinsae]

My Story + Current Situation

I don't know how to begin this post. To be honest, what I'm about to tell y'all may not help me out in any way other than giving me an outlet to vent. Fair warning, this is going to be a long post and I may ramble a bit but I'll add a tldr; at the end. 

Sigh.

Let me start from the beginning.

My name is Stacey. I turn 25 years old on April 24th, 2019.

My story begins when I was 19 years old - a freshman at my local university. I was finishing up my first year of my undergraduate program in Biology, aiming to get a Masters or PhD in Genetics. I had many accomplishments; I was awarded a scholarship because of my GPA, a group project I was a part of won 1st place in a writing competition because our independent research paper was the best, and I was just living life and working on my future. I had to take the bus everywhere, I was moving around a lot, and I was working out regularly at my university's gym. One day, as I'm walking to the bus stop, it felt like my right hip popped out of place and then slammed back in. 

At the time, it was a minor inconvenience. It hurt, yes, but it mostly just left me sore and it went away with some rest so I didn't think much about it. 

I started questioning it more when it happened again over summer break. I was at a friend's house playing D&D when I felt an acute grinding sensation in my right hip joint as I stood up to get me a soda. This time, the pain was significantly worse - sharp and it took longer to go away. I started thinking that I was developing arthritis as my dad also got it young. 

It took a while to happen again...but when it did, it got to a point where I couldn't ignore it at all.

I had picked up a seasonal job at Macy's. My first day on the sale's floor was Thanksgiving night going into Black Friday. We were understaffed and it was hell, but I made it through my shift which ended at 2:00 AM. A co-worker came to me and asked if I could pick up her shift the following morning and I took it because I wanted to work. On Black Friday, I started feeling that grinding sensation in my hip again but I worked through it - blowing it off as simple arthritis. I believed rest would help.

That following Saturday, I had another 8 hour shift but this time it was in juniors which was the busiest area. I was moving around a lot, had to bend over to pick things up off the floor, and I'm not even going to get into the mess left in the dressing rooms. Towards the end of my shift, I was limping. The grinding sensation only got worse and suddenly my hip was locked up. I could barely move and when I did I experienced sharp intense pain. I left an hour early because I could no longer do my job. I thought maybe I just picked up too many hours, so I decided to take the rest of the weekend to rest.

But the pain didn't go away with rest. I was in pain for 2 weeks straight, hardly able to walk, before I finally went to see a doctor. I limped my way to the university health center and scheduled an appointment. The lady who saw me performed a simple hip exam. I wasn't able to walk much, so she mostly checked my hip flexion. Off the bat, I knew that I had lost some range of motion as we could barely bring my knee to my chest without pain. The fun part happened as she was guiding my leg back down.

My femoral head caught on my hip bone. It was audible, and yes it hurt.

She had a look of shock as she said, "You are way too young for this." 

I was prescribed diclofenac for the inflammation and cyclobenzaprine (flexeril) to relax my muscles and help me sleep through the pain. That same night, my mom took me to the ER and I had a x-ray done on my hip. The radiologist said that there was a slight chance I had femoroacetabular impingement (FAI) (in layman's terms: the bones are misshapen) on both hips, but would need more imaging to truly determine a diagnosis. I was prescribed hydrocodone (vicodin) for about a week to try and manage the pain until I could get insurance and see a specialist. 

That's where the fun part started.

Since I turned 19 that year, I was no longer covered under CHIPS Medicaid. I applied again, but was told that I do not qualify because I didn't have any children.

Yeah...you read that right. The state of Texas does not extend benefits to anyone over 19 without children. 

My only choice was a county program that helps low income people get medications and treatment so they can get back to work. I wasn't able to apply until months later (a combination of not having my own transportation, busy schedules, and my mom trying to convince me that I would be denied.)

I was 20 years old when I finally found a doctor (we'll call him Dr. D) that could help me figure out what was going on in my hip joint. He took it seriously - performed another hip exam and ordered several lab tests. We checked everything under the sun: cancer, rheumatoid arthritis, lupus, etc. He got me on physical therapy, changed out my diclofenac to meloxicam (mobic), ordered me an MRI, and referred me to an orthopedic specialist to determine how we needed to move forward.

The MRI I had was without contrast. The result was greater trochanter bursitis, or inflammation of the bursa which are sacs filled with synovial fluid that help cushion joint movement. 

When I saw the specialist in November of 2014, the chronic bursitis was the sign that something was definitely wrong with my hip. I was only 20 years old with no traumatic injury. Chronic bursitis is not common in someone that young, so he ordered me an MRI with contrast so that they could have better imaging of my joint. My husband's grandparents paid the $932 to get it done in December and it was honestly one of the worst things I had ever gone through. When they injected the dye into my hip, the numbing agent didn't work and it hit a nerve HARD and my entire body convulsed. They injected more of the numbing agent, but that also didn't work so again my entire body convulsed as they tried to get the dye in. The third time worked because they decided to give me a stronger numbing agent...but it messed my hip up. I walked funny for three days.

When I finally saw the specialist again about the results (several months later because of an issue with scheduling), not only did I have bursitis but they also confirmed that I had cam type FAI (layman's terms: the deformity is on the femoral head) and a 9mm labral tear. 

Since the condition was causing joint damage, the answer was surgery.

I was sent back to my primary care physician's office, but unfortunately Dr. D wasn't available so I saw a different doctor. (This may seem irrelevant, but it is actually very important.) I told her EXACTLY what the specialist told me, which was that I needed to get sent to San Antonio or Galveston in order to get treatment. 

The referral was denied.

I was assigned a new doctor. We'll call him Dr. S. He told me about the denial when I had asked about it during an appointment for a different issue. I remember crying because I had no idea what to do. I was only 21 years old - I didn't know how to navigate the medical system! Plus, I was very very broke. I won't go into too much detail, but I was forced to move out of my parent's because my dad is irresponsible and I was put in a massive amount of credit card debt because my own mother stole my identity and I ended up having to pay the bill for it because my mom was diagnosed with cancer and couldn't work anymore. 

(This is only surface level by the way. The last 5-6 years have been absolute hell.)

That summer I was working two jobs. I had a GoFundMe page and I was just trying to save up enough money to possibly get me on an insurance plan to cover the surgery. I came home every night limping and crying, my husband having to half carry me and help me get into a hot bath just to try and bring the pain down enough so that I could do it all again the next day. School was rough as well and my grades were dropping.

I was destroying my body so much that it got to a point where I could no longer do my job as a sale's associate at Macy's. My managers were amazing and they did everything they could to help accommodate me, but it got to a point where I was unable to finish shifts due to pain and I was calling out often. I was running low on my attendance credits and I didn't want to be fired for absenteeism. 

I go back to see Dr. S and I tell him I really need something, anything. What I was doing wasn't getting me anywhere and my condition was getting worse due to the progressive joint damage. He didn't really know what to do...saying things like "I can' believe they denied you - the whole point of the program is to help people get their treatment and yet they're denying you." I told him I had heard something about an orthopedic program at one of the hospitals in network and he put in a request for me to see one of their surgeons. 

I never got a response.

At the time, I really couldn't pursue the issue - I changed from a sale's associate to a wedding gift registry advisor at Macy's. It was a desk job which really helped keep my hip under control, but the problem was that my hours were reduced and I had no way of picking up more like I did with my previous position. I was having to donate plasma so often just to have food money that I actually have a permanent scar on my left arm.

I loved that job, but it barely paid the bills. I took a semester off of school so I could focus on working and babysitting my nephew due to a family emergency. Thankfully my in-laws paid me. Even though it was something I would have done for free, it really helped out.

But then Macy's had a huge company layoff in January 2017...and I was affected. The position I had was being removed from my local store, so I was without a job. My depression took a big hit and it almost ruined my relationship with my husband. I wasn't taking care of myself, I wasn't doing my responsibilities that were required for my unemployment benefits and my insurance, and I basically became extremely dependent on my husband to a point that our relationship became unhealthy. It took a while to get me out of that rut. I started applying for jobs and I ended up getting hired by Aflac around the end of April, but I had to get my driver's license before I could be officially on board.

I understand that the above may not seem relevant, but...that summer was when things got even worse.

I wasn't able to get my license in time to take the position, but that was only a part of the issue. In July, I was helping my husband's business at a convention when I had one of the worst flares I've ever had. I had twisted the wrong way, causing my femur to catch on my hip bone, and I ended up on the floor in fetal position.

At best, the pain felt like I was being stabbed with an ice pick. At worst, it felt like every tiny movement I made was splintering my hip bone. The splintering sensation I had felt before, but not to this degree. My hip was locked and it felt like I was stuck in a vice. On the pain scale, I was around a 9. It was unbearable. I ended up in the ER where the only thing they could do was give me a shot and a prescription for Tylenol 3 (acetaminophen + codeine) to help me get through it...

Neither the shot or the medicine worked. While my hip was unlocked, I was still experiencing sharp pain that was so deep in my hip bone that none of the medications touched it.

It hurt...it hurt intensely and consistently. 

It got to a point where I had to borrow flexeril and tramadolfrom someone while I was trying to renew my insurance. Yes, I'm aware that this is illegal - but I was out of flexeril and the meloxicam wasn't working so we were trying to get me through the MULTIPLE flares I was having even when I didn't do anything to aggravate my hip. The end of 2017 was exhausting for multiple reasons.

Once I got back on the county program, I had an appointment scheduled with a new doctor (we'll call her Dr. P) because Dr. S was no longer working in network. 

The week of my appointment...was really rough. We had to put our dog down at 2 years old because he had severe chylothorax and we didn't have the money or the means to seek treatment (plus it was so severe that seeking treatment could have killed him.) A few days later, Hurricane Harvey hit and my area was badly affected. My appointment had to be rescheduled. 

I saw several different doctors in the following months because Dr. P never had an opening available. I ended up needing a wheelchair to get around because my standing/walking limit was drastically reduced. I'm lucky to be able to stand for 10-15 minutes now compared to the 1.5 - 2 hours it used to be. I tried to apply for medicaid again, but was denied and advised to try and apply for disability. I didn't have enough credits to apply through social security so I found an attorney and just gave it a shot. However, I got a rejection letter for representation due to the information that they received from my doctor's office.

I start questioning things at this point. What did they tell the disability attorney? We knew I needed surgery and that my condition was getting worse. What could my doctor have told the attorney that resulted in a denial?

I didn't see Dr. P until May of 2018 and apparently, she had no record of my diagnosis and my need for surgery. The only imaging she could find on file was my very first MRI (without contrast) and so she was under the impression that the only issue was mild inflammation in my right hip. 

I was pissed.

I ended up having to redo the entire process. I see the very same specialist again and he didn't remember me. I had to get another MRI done and he requested an x-ray right before my appointment, but he never went over the results with me. He basically told me I need to "put up with it" and ordered me a fluoroscopy guided injection. 

I get the injection in October and literally minutes afterward I start crying because of how overwhelmed I was at no longer being in pain. To give y'all an idea, chronic pain isn't always intense pain 24/7. For me, it feels like my hip is constantly bruised. I usually hover around a 2-3 on the pain scale and the more I move the higher it gets. IT IS EXHAUSTING. To finally feel "normal" again was so overwhelming for me that I was a sobbing mess as we walked back to the car. 

That week I was so happy. My mental health immediately improved. I was able to walk around, go up and down stairs, even go on a camping trip with my ecology class and go hiking! All these things that I wanted to do I could finally do again with only minimal and MANAGEABLE pain. I still took it easy, but I was finally able to enjoy my life again.

...

The following Monday, a week after the injection, I woke up in severe pain. I had felt the familiar twinge the night before, resulting in an anxiety attack because of the fear my hip pain was returning...and unfortunately my fear came true. The injection normally lasts a few months...for me, it lasted one week. 

I go see the specialist for the follow up appointment regarding the injection. He seemed kind of confused, saying things like "At least now we know the problem is your hip." I was beyond frustrated because WE KNEW FOR YEARS THE PROBLEM WAS MY HIP. He wasn't listening to me! He even asked me if he had talked about surgery the last time I saw him and I told him YES. So to wrap up the appointment, he gives me a half-assed hip exam and requests that my PCP put in a referral for orthopedic surgery...again. My depression hits its lowest point. I even contemplated suicide and had to start therapy. Overall, I was not in a good place.

I don't hear anything about the referral for months so I call and they tell me there are no orthopedic surgeons at the moment. So I make another appointment but this time I see a different doctor that we will call Dr. I because she was the one who put in the request for the referral. She was amazing! She listened to me, didn't interrupt me, and she worked to make sure we got details regarding any hold ups so I wasn't left in the dark. She even performed a standard hip exam on me to measure how bad my hip got. Anyway, she finds out that yes - everyone with the clinic card does not currently have an orthopedic surgeon because the contract with the previous one ended and was not being renewed. She encouraged me to keep calling, at least once at month, to check on the status of their hiring. 

My first call was in February of 2019 and not only was I told that there still wasn't any orthopedic surgeons...the county had also decided to no longer cover hip surgery as of this year. 

I was LIVID.

I made an appointment with Dr. P and was seen literally the next day because I was DONE. We gathered all the info we could to prove to them that I had been seeking treatment for years. She listened and she took me seriously. She put in a new referral that aimed to get me a one time approval, ordered physical therapy, and referred me back to the specialist so we could get this done. She also prescribed me gabapentin to help me out with some of the nerve pain I was experiencing because as of the end of 2018, my hip pain was causing issues with my knee. As of 2019, my ankle and foot started being affected as well. She theorized it was due to nerve damage and so she put a note on my referral for it to get done ASAP.

Which brings us to the present. I went to physical therapy and it caused me to flare up...repeatedly. I ended up having to resign from my job (that I only had for a month) because my absences were atrocious and I was constantly having to update my accommodations just so we can attempt to have my absenteeism reduced. (In the end, I had to chose between voluntarily resigning and be eligible for rehire in 30 days or risk being terminated and not being eligible for 3 years.) My last physical therapy appointment was Friday, April 12th because during my exercises my femur caught on my hip bone and caused a severe flare. The physical therapist put a stop on my therapy until after I saw the specialist because it was only causing me more trauma. 

Today, April 17th, I saw the specialist and we finally figured out why I never received the treatment I needed. To reiterate, we are on year 5since I first got on the county aid and started seeking help from them.

It turns out, all of my referrals were done incorrectly.

I was being referred to the local orthopedic department which can not do the procedure I need. On top of that, the specialist was trying to order me an arthroscopy for DIAGNOSTIC purposes - not an arthroscopic surgery. Somewhere in the mix there was massive miscommunication and things were not being documented correctly. My PCPs had no idea how to handle my case so it ended up being mishandled entirely.

Essentially, the specialist brought in someone from an internal department and they are now taking over my case because this is grounds for a class action law suit and they want to avoid that at all costs. She explained to me where the block happened and that they were no longer going through my primary care physician for referrals because it would risk continued miscommunication.

They admitted that the fault was on them. I understand why this happened because the hospital I go through is in a major transitional phase and they've been tearing down the trauma center and relocating, building new clinics, updating, etc. I even told her and the specialist that I am not mad at any one person, that I do understand - but they have to understand that I was a victim of this. I experienced YEARS of suffering that affected my physical and mental health, my education, and my ability to work. My condition has devolved to a point it never should have and it may have permanent life altering repercussions. My surgery may go from a simple fix to needing a replacement which would result in at least 2 more replacements later on in my life since they do have an expiration date and I am only 24 going on 25.

TLDR; because of the transitional state my hospital is in plus the fact that I was jumping between multiple doctors, there was miscommunication regarding the treatment for my FAI and it led to my referrals being done incorrectly...and I suffered for it. I am now waiting on a referral that will send me up to San Antonio where they will be taking arthroscopic images of my hip joint so that we can further determine how to proceed with treatment. I may pursue legal action, but ultimately I just want something done so I can get on with my life.

⬇️

So why am I posting all of this information here?

Because of the fact that I am now out of a job again, plus everything that I had explained above, I am opening up EMERGENCY commissions. We have bills to pay and we also need to be able to pay for this trip to San Antonio and unfortunately, my husband (who is currently employed by my previous employer, go figure) is not making enough to keep us afloat. We are in the red and will not make it through May at this point so we are already working on selling some extra stuff and getting ready to make some major sacrifices. 

I mostly write Victuuri but am willing to discuss other pairings. If you have any questions regarding what I will or will not write, just shoot me a message on twitter and we can discuss it. 

Commissions will be pay what you want - no minimum. I'll literally take anything at this point. I know my writing can be a bit inconsistent so I don't feel right setting a price. Here's the link to my ko-fi page.

All I ask is to please understand if the commission takes a while to get out. I have real life things to take care of and sometimes my medicine makes it hard for me to stare at my computer screen. Just trust that I will get it done. 

I'm currently working on a piece for hentipie. I'm hoping to have it out this weekend so prepare to see that soon! It won't be posted here due to the rating though, so you'll have to look for it on AO3.

Anyway, for those of you who took the time to read this ridiculous chunk of text, thank you. If you can't help me out financially that is perfectly fine. I know and understand the struggle so don't feel bad by my sob story. I just needed to get this out.

Talk to y'all again soon! <3

-Sae

[deanky]

Total - C. Martin Croker Q&A

Total TV: I know you were already an animator before you got involved with Space Ghost. But did you also know that you had this great talent for voices?

Clay Croker: I used to work out at the laser show way back when. Ten years ago. It's out at Stone Mountain Park, this giant granite mountain that sticks right up out of the ground, and they project laser shows up against the side of it. That was my first animation job. I created a character right when I started out there, they had this bear character and they wanted a sidekick for the bear. So I came up with a Possum character that they called CW, which stood for Civil War, argh. [mimes vomiting] I didn't come up with that part. But I also wound up doing the voice of that character too. So I was doing voices for laser show characters a decade ago. And I'd always done goofy voices on my answering machine and stuff, and I was always a fan of Zorak from the original Space Ghost.

Oh, really? So this was like a deep-seated desire?

Oh, yeah. They started rerunning Space Ghost in 1978, when I was in high school. And we'd all talk about it at the lunch table and stuff. And there would be friends of mine who'd be like, Brak's my favorite, he's the coolest, he's that Tiki cat kind of guy. And I was going, oh, man, Zorak blows 'em all away. You don't know what you're talking about. So I actually did like a Zorak answering machine message probably while I was still in high school.

God, it'd be great if you still had a copy of that.

I may. I may. I save everything. I have answering machines tapes going back to '80. So when Space Ghost was pitched to Design Effects, where I was working, I had to kind of horn my way in. 'Cause they were just gonna make it a designer job and not have any animators in on it. And I was like, wait a minute! What do you guys know about Space Ghost? You know about any of the villains? And they were like, well, maybe we should have him sit on this. So I wound up actually suggesting that Zorak be on the show, 'cause I was such a big Zorak fan. I was going like, we gotta have some villains on the show! Zorak would be perfect! And [Cartoon Network programming head] Mike Lazzo agreed. He said well, Zorak was always one of my favorites too.

But I was dismayed when I found out they weren't going to use the original voices. 'Cause I thought, Oh boy, we're gonna be working on shows with Gary Owens doing the voice of Space Ghost and Don Messick doing the voice of Zorak Then I find out no, no, no, we're just gonna go with local guys. And I was horrified. I was like, oh, man, here I thought I was giving Zorak a career boost. And there was a point in a meeting where they said, hmm, well we're gonna have so and so do Space Ghost, so that solves the Space Ghost dilemma. Who are we gonna have do Zorak's voice? There's this long silence, and I'm like, well, it's now or never. And I just said, Well I can do that voice. And they were like, do it. So I just spat out one of the old lines I remembered and they were like okay, you're Zorak, that solves that problem.

What about Moltar? Did you have any affinity for him?

No. Zorak I really wanted on the show. And then we started reviewing Space Ghost cartoons at Design Effects, and the first cartoon we looked at was "The Evidence of Moltor." They changed his name between first and second season, I think they probably just couldn't remember what he was called. Originally, they had Andy [Merrill], who does Brak's voice, come in and read for Moltar. He sort of did kind of what wound up being Brak, sort of the same crazy inflections. And they were like, I think that's a bit strong. And then right before the show went to final edit, they said we want you to come in and read for Moltar. Can you do like a Ted Cassidy kind of voice? And I went [switches to sonorous basso] well, sure, I think so. And they said, well, go on in there and do it. So I thought what the hey. But, you know, the rest is history.

Do you ever get confused going back and forth?

At rehearsal. That's the only time I get confused sometimes. LIke I'll have Zorak and Moltar arguing, and sometimes I'll wind up starting to do the other character's voice and inflection. I'll see the word and think, Oh, this is a Zorak line. And it'll wind up being the other way. Sometimes I have to go, "Wait a minute, wait a minute, okay. Start the clock again."

Do you ever get up in the morning and feel like it's a Moltar kind of day? Or a Zorak kind of day? Does the identification ever go that far?

Well, the cool thing about Zorak is the fact that I can pretty much say what I'm thinking if I say it with Zorak's voice. Like at conventions and stuff, when overbearing fans get in our face I'm like, [in dismissive Zorak voice] "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

People love to be insulted by Zorak.

Oh yeah. Well, it definitely makes it easier to deal with some of the fans. We get some pretty rabid fans for Space Ghost. To me it's like, you know, it's just Space Ghost. But we've had some people that are just absolutely, like, crazy for the show. And being able to deal with them as Zorak does make things easier, because you can be like, [in nasty Zorak voice ] "Yeah, well pipe down, sonny, I hear your mother calling you." And they're like [breaks into rabid-fan chortling].

Do people assault you with their version of Zorak's voice?

Usually not. I think, you know, they would be too self-conscious about it. But we always get the guys who come up like with buttons all over their shirts and stuff, and they'll be like, [switches into moronic stoner voice] "Let me be a character on the show, come on, I do good funny voices." OK, we'll get your card and we'll call you. But in answer to your question, the only time I really feel like [a character] . . . I actually feel more like my other alter ego, who's the cartoon series that I've got on the side burner, which is Mr. Angst.

Mr. Angst?

Yeah, and I very often feel like Mr. Angst, a lot of the time.

How does Mr. Angst speak?

Oh, I'm still working on that, but it's somewhere between like Lenny Bruce and someone that has screamed till they're hoarse.

That sounds a little bit like Brak.

Yeah.

At least the screaming end of the spectrum, not the Lenny Bruce end.

Actually the guy that does Bird Man's voice I'm thinking about using as a character. But I think I'm going to use him as Mr. Angst's pal Crude Dan. He was based on a real guy I knew called Crude Dan.

What's Mr. Angst look like?

Let's see, well he's sorta kinda like . . . I don't want to say Danny Kaye because that involves a lot more connotations, but a lot like Danny Kaye gone bad, sort of.

The vessel with the pestle has the pellet with the poison.

So he pretty much just looks like this. [starts to sketch] One of these days . . . I've got some pencil tests done of him already, but with all the animation realism shows that are being worked up now, like King of the Hill and all these more reality-based shows . . . I've been wanting to do that for like . . . I mean I've had this character on the back burner since like '91.

Wow. He looks like a bit of a hipster.

Yeah. Oh yeah. Well I mean he's about like 35 to 38, somewhere in there, and like really into barbecue and bowling and all kinds of stuff like that. Oh, and he's always got to have that un-PC butt hangin' out of his mouth. [sketches it in] So he would be like . .. oh, I forgot all the . . .

The angst lines.

Yeah. [sketches them in]

That's really cool. Mr. Angst. Can I keep that?

Certainly.

Maybe after this big push for the new Space Ghost Coast to Coast episodes you'll have some time.

Well, the thing that's cool is because there's been so much Space Ghost stuff going on I've been able to ramp up my production. I've been able to like get more desks and pencil test machines and all the other equipment that I need when I eventually start doing something other than Space Ghost. But I've also heard rumblings that there's already something besides Space Ghost waiting in the wings, so we shall see.

Beyond Cartoon Planet?

Yeah. Yeah.

I love Cartoon Planet.

Oh yeah, me too.

And Zorak's Horrorscopes.

Yeah, Pete Smith wrote all those, they were a blast. I think we've done like the entire zodiac.

Pete wrote a bunch of, like, wacky stuff, a lot of the songs the Cartoon Planet Band sings on the show. Are we still recording?

Yeah.

I just wanted to like get the process down from the start. We read through the script, we make notes, I come up with a thumbnail story board, I show that to [line producer] Jim Fortier and then I work up the actual first draft of the boards. Then we have a meeting and go through basically all the boards and say, well, we want to use this, we don't want to use that. Then I work up the final boards, they get approved and then they start being animated. So that's how the process gets rolling, as far as like where all the new art comes from.

And that's basically your domain, the new art?

I do all the new animation for the show. I run my own animation company, Big Deal Cartoons. I actually run it out of my house, I have a studio set up in the basement and have freelance animators, all of which have 9­5 jobs in this town, doing animation because there's been such an explosion of the art form in the last year or so I can just get them at night. Right now, we're mostly working on Space Ghost needs.

What exactly do you do here in the Flame Room, Clay?

Tear our hair out? [laughs] This is where we do digital ink and paint. And then composite those new cells into other scenes. Which in this case is all the scenes of Bird Man sitting at the desk, stuff that did not exist in the original Bird Man universe. We do new animation compositing, rotoscoping some of the existing animations from the '60s and take Bird Man and Space Ghost and other characters out of them. We cut 'em out of their original scenes, give ''em new backgrounds, put 'em into a set.

You actually cut them out digitally?

Frame by frame.

That sounds pretty time-consuming.

It is. The show's kind of like a waking hours thing. While I'm awake, I'm thinking about the show. Before, up to this point, we'd been on the air almost three years and put out 33 shows. About a dozen shows a year. This year, we're doing 26 new episodes so it's a big change. As is usual around here, I'm booked in more sessions than just one at once. Right now I'm doing the Fred Flintstone thing at the drive-in and the bowling alley, where I'm like running up and down the hall all day long monitoring what's going on in ink and paint and what's going on in the actual composite, which is in here. So all the cells are brought in, we bring them in under the camera over here and shoot them directly into the paint box room. They digitally ink and paint them, like you're seeing an example of right now. Sometimes we add special effects. Space Ghost blows up Zorak in another scene, we have to paint him to make him look likes he's charred and burned.

Do you use like a stock image of Zorak charred or do you actually create that for every episode? 'Cause Zorak gets zapped a lot.

They have pretty much a standard few scenes where he gets charred, and they just use that over and over. In fact, they just made a new one. But yeah, we try to keep it as standardized as possible. We try to keep all the colors standard.

What about Zorak's boinks? Are the boinks new animation?

Where he bounces?

Yeah.

No, actually that's something that they digitally did. The first time I saw that I went, wow, what was that? They said, "Oh, that's something we were just messing around with." And I was like, okay. I just wondered, you know, 'cause most of the time now if there's new artwork involved in the show, then [senior Flame artist] Butch [Seibert] and I--or whoever is working in here, like putting it together, but most of the time it's Butch--we like put together all the new scenes. But every once in a while they'll come up with something and just go, "Oh, well that's a Tom thing," and they'll have [online editor] Tom Roche come up with something in final edit.

You guys have all these great names: Croker! Roche!

Yeah. [laughs] So I'll see the show and like all of a sudden see something I had nothing to do with and go, "Wow, what was that?" Well, too late to change it now. Watching it on TV.

That must also be kind of fun in a way. You get a little surprise.

Yeah, well, it's like reaching into a bag and getting, like, eeyew, noodles!

[madscientistjournal]

An Interview with Madison Estes

Today, we’re chatting with Madison Estes, who will have a story in the final quarterly for MSJ!

DV: Tell us a bit about yourself! Madison Estes: I’m a horror addict who comes from a family of horror fans. My dad and I went to Las Vegas this year so we could do the Saw Escape Room, which was one of the coolest and most intense experiences of my life. Several of the rooms are duplicates of traps from the movies, and they got Tobin Bell to do narration in each room. My mother and I went to Texas Frightmare several years ago and we got to meet some of the Saw stars, plus Robert England, Sid Haag, and Sean Patrick Flannery. With two parents who are horror fans, I had a lot of horror influences growing up. I remember the crypt keeper from Tales from the Crypt used to scare me, but when I got a little older I’d watch reruns of it whenever I could, in addition to The Twilight Zone and The Outer Limits. Like most contemporary horror writers, I read a lot of Stephen King when I was growing up, starting with The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon, which is still one of my favorites. I also read On Writing sometime in the fifth grade. It helped me connect with literature in a way that I hadn’t before, and I believe it shaped me into the writer that I am today.

I live in southeast Texas and I have three dogs, two black and white Chihuahuas, a boy and a girl (Leo and Mayhem), and a Shih Tzu named Mika. When I’m not writing, I’m usually snuggling with them and reading or watching movies. In addition to my obsession with horror, I’m a huge nerd for Harry Potter, Star Wars, Marvel, DC and some of the old school anime shows like Yu Yu Hakusho.

DV: You’ve got a story coming out in February in Strange Girls: Women in Horror Anthology that sounds like it will be of interest to our readers. What can you share about your story without giving too much away?

ME: My story “Revival” is about a medical student who believes the cadaver he was assigned to dissect is coming back to life. He’s grieving the loss of his sister and suffering from nightmares and sleep deprivation, so he’s not mentally stable. He doesn’t trust his own judgement, but since he couldn’t save his sister, he’ll stop at nothing to save this girl if she really can be saved.

DV: You’re also working on a horror writing guidebook with other authors. Tell us more about this project.

ME: I’m working with five other writers on The Complete Guide to Writing Horror Vol. 1, commissioned by Dragon Moon Press. I’m in charge of five chapters, which cover topics such as horror subgenres, horror basics, the history of horror, business etiquette, and market resources. At the moment, I’m still working on subgenres. I’m designing this chapter to help writers learn how to categorize their own writing, and to give them an idea of what is out there so they can find their niche or niches within the horror genre.

In the basics chapter, I’m covering character struggles, decisions, consequences, and other related topics. One subject of special interest to me is character agency. I feel that in horror stories, character agency is often lacking. It’s tempting to write a passive, reactive character in a genre where the villain is often the star, but characters should have some control over their lives, or at least the appearance of control, even if by the end of the story you’re going to pull the rug from under the reader and reveal the characters had little to no chance at all. Think about the movies In the Mouth of Madness, Knowing, or Cabin in the Woods. The main characters in these stories are active. They fight back, but more than that, they ask questions and investigate. Even if they fail, they make efforts to take control of their lives. It makes stronger characters and a more entertaining story than a character that only runs from the maniac with the knife.

In the business etiquette chapter, I cover topics such as communication and conflict management with editors, and how to write cover letters, query letters, author bios, and more. Market resources covers topics such as networking opportunities, horror writing conventions, critique groups, where to find submission calls, and a list of active horror publishers. I haven’t started writing the history chapter yet (please don’t tell my editor!), but I plan to cover the origin of horror and the movements that have shaped the genre, such as the invention of film, video games, and the internet, as well as how certain authors like Stephen King forever changed horror.

I’ve very excited about this project. I can’t wait to share my knowledge and help aspiring horror writers. It takes me back to being in fifth grade with On Writing and the way that book filled me with excitement for writing. I hope to not only help writers elevate their craft, but to inspire that feeling within them as well.

DV: What’s the coolest thing about being an author?

ME: When I go on Amazon and read a review from someone who enjoyed my story, or when a book blogger reviews an anthology I’m in and singles out my story as one of their favorites, it gives me a warm and fuzzy feeling. It makes all the hours of writing and revising worth it.

DV: What’s on the horizon for you?

I just had a short story called “Crossroads” featured in Horror USA: California (Soteira Press) about an actor who goes through a midlife crisis when his girlfriend gets pregnant. His mental stability and fears of fatherhood are worsened by his Porsche, a haunted car that carries a terrible secret. I recently published my first paranormal romance/erotica story in The Devil’s Doorbell (HellBound Books) called “Visions of Blood”. A psychic has visions whenever he touches people or certain objects, but it comes with a side-effect of searing pain. A beautiful vampire convinces him to use his ability to help her track down the vampire who murdered her friend. Sexual tension leads to some very creative sex scenes between them despite the character’s disability.

My short story “Servant of Death” is going to appear in the last issue of Mad Scientist Journal. It’s about a child dying from cancer who is stalked by a shadow creature that he perceives to be Death. After he escapes the grim reaper’s clutches, his cancer goes away, but when he grows up, he finds out that remission came with a price.

I have a short story coming out next year in a time-themed anthology by Transmundane Press. My story is called, “The Time Loop Loophole”. It’s a horror comedy about a guy trapped in a time loop who thinks the only way to escape may be to kill his best friend. The premise sounds really dark, but the story is mostly humorous. The main character is kind of a self-described loser. At the beginning of the story, his biggest regret about being in the time loop is not being able to finish his video games or see the ending of Game of Thrones (a blessing in disguise according to most fans, not that he could know that). He’s not even that bothered by the time loop until the girl he has a crush on starts showing interest in him. Secrets come out, and everything gets complicated as he starts to wonder just what he’s willing to do to be with the girl of his dreams.

Thanks, Madison!

An Interview with Madison Estes was originally published on Mad Scientist Journal

[bondespinoza4-blog]

Netflix's Splint Hastings Believes AT&T Time Warner Merger May be Good For Individuals.

This week the city of Dana Factor, California opened up a time capsule that the community closed back in 1966. . The provider likewise explains in its newest report that, one of its competitors, that is actually the only one who entire line of product meets and also exceeds the Epa's Electricity Superstar standard for power performance. Off the advancement edge, the secret our experts should service is to shorten the shipping time to get to a large percent of the complete power market. When that happens to efficiency, contrasts to the Vivo Air as well as Moto E end up being a whole lot a lot more lopsided from the Workshop Power.www.naturalsisanatos.info ='float:left;margin-right:10px;' src="https://pbs.twimg.com/profile_images/567671922700214273/qG3xAGyW.png" width="272" alt="time change"/> This can properly be actually a complication, since now you are actually completely conditional on certainly not just exactly how good the electric battery is at acquisition, however just how well this stands up to the examination of time. Perhaps now that this tipping aspect has actually been accomplished, that will begin to alter a lot faster. State whatever you will from Hillside's earlier service ventures or the merits of his concepts, Think and Grow Rich was a smashing results. Each property is color-coded, showing the annual electricity draw along with black reddish signifying the largest power consumption. Changemakrs, which our team profiled final Oct, also shows quotes in a visually-appealing method. Time is tracked each Session; you can delegate to every Treatment a Task as well as Type, and also enter Notes. Jawbone encourages you to discover others to share your UP expertise along with since possessing others view your information is wonderful for each inspiration as well as regret. If business like Time Warner can't find alternative business styles when then comes, they're going to be actually transcended. Because planetary systems progressively create electricity over 30 or two years which energy is sold to someone (a house owner or an electrical power firm), entrepreneurs (and normal people) can easily invest money in to installing a solar energy project then could make back a tiny yield on the energy purchases each month. Timeloop's namesake arises from the moment warps which Nik hires in every degree of the video game. The firm declared strategies under a year ago to present the Assume Urban area two-seater (currently offered in Europe) to the United States market in 2010. This is actually a mobile video game, so that is actually actually just got enough room for the one laugh, but if you're into that prank, at that point you must most definitely pick this one up. My Equine Royal prince keeps finding a new way to become ludicrous long after you believe this should more than. Hastings, which was actually communicating at the Commercial Publication Live meeting this evening fought with Comcast over a planned Time Warner merger in 2014, being afraid the package could possibly imply Comcast would certainly have the potential to obstruct broadband world wide web accessibility to Netflix customers. I can't invest adequate time listed below, unfortunately, due to the fact that I have other tasks. There seriously must be actually a better system for receiving products. At lvl 17 this is having me like 6 rounds to grab regular rodents and also pidgies if they do not only run completely. Create a list a couple of factors you may do today that will definitely help you improve your degree from incentive power as well as interest. When our experts commute to operate, our team are actually devoting then getting to a location where we carry out duties for others. Once points come to be clearer, I can form an even more exact point of view, yet as that stands I presume that thread inquiring if people definitely wish a house console on the go take in really attacked the nail on the scalp. One can't fail to remember the very engaging but entirely worthless attribute - the live tour chart. Along with the Guncon2 off Time Dilemma 2, this is a very quick and easy body to grab. Drive a switch on the side of the gun as well as you elude out from the method. I am actually assuming the new apple iphone will definitely be actually launched in September, a week or more before the end from the one-fourth. Lots of folks lament regarding exactly how unproductive the traditional company appointment" is actually. Several attendees feel the have to insist their point of view at terrific length, or simply regurgitate the same details a number of times. Wind electricity, for instance, has been actually around for Thirty Years, however, its reveal of the power market is actually little, he explained. Tidy Edge reveals that the proposed budget fiscal 2013 (although it really isn't likely to pass) contains spending of $1 billion on tidy power as well as power productivity ventures, up from $400 thousand in the most up to date year. In some cases we are actually lucky enough to have this currently constructed right into the objective our company are actually functioning in the direction of like receiving an award simply for moving across the goal at an one-half marathon irrespective of your opportunity. My regional (Denver) sessions remain at the true time in iCal as long as I donit travel to an other time region. We do not deal with that and also the incredible effort and also information that are called for making it We take it for provided along with the various other billion foods items and the various other billion other modern technologies and also advantages we failed to fight for. Use the options in the Electricity Saving idea system inclination board to switch on and also close down your Mac automatically on a daily basis. Reviews in the App Store for previous versions from Toggl Cooking timer discuss that the application routinely accidents. This's phoned My Alarm Created by Apalon, you could have come across their Weather condition Live or Personal digital assistant Pro application. I had actually been trying to visualize exactly how communities might build power independence as the national network commercial infrastructure started to crumble and fall short, because that is the course our experts perform. Without regarding half a trillion bucks in upgrades in between now as well as 2030, our existing network is destined for decrepitude. In power - as in plenty of other points - our experts have the best government money may purchase. I strongly encourage attempting that, yet do this knowing that comparable to it is actually, that is actually all essentially operational to the very same basic concepts every complimentary social RPG runs on. Each one of those factors keep the video game off being actually all that may be, and also in the case of this game, it's a true embarassment, since I think just what this game might have been is actually something absolutely exceptional, rather than just excellent.

[darkzorua100]

Who is our Mystery Man?

Ladies and Gentlemen, after episode 58, with episode 59 and 60 being a transition period, episode 61 of Vrains looks like it is going to be the beginning of the second half of season two. With that being said, I feel like we should start to be getting some answers to who Haru and Bohman actually are, what their group is, and just what their goal is in connection to the Cyberse and the Ignis. I think the biggest mystery when it comes to their group would have to be their leader, the Mystery Man who is only referred to as question marks, when he is said to speak in an episode. 

Now I’m sure we won’t know this guy’s identity for a while yet since the writers are really keeping this guy in the dark for some reason but after doing some major thinking about it, I think I’ve come to a solid conclusion, until new evidence is given of course, on just who this man could actually be, which may or may not surprise some of you.

Now before I reveal just who I think the Mystery Man could be and my reasoning behind this conclusion, I just like to ask you guys a simple question: why is he being hidden in the first place?

The writers are deliberately trying to keep this person hidden from us for some big reason, not just from people who are watching the show, spoiler free, but even from the people who read the summaries and cast list. We knew that the glowing orange figure that attacked Jin was Bohman, they didn’t try and hide that from us because we were already introduced to him and the rest of the new season 2 characters with their VAs in the scans leading up to season 2 and we put the pieces together when the mystery figure shared the same VA. 

Now the way I see it, I don’t understand why they would go out of their way to hide a completely new character like this, especially in a show like Yu-Gi-Oh Vrains where the characters are already hidden behind avatars. When Ryoken was first shown to us in his real life form, there was some debate if this actually was Revolver or not until the show basically told us that yeah, this was Revolver. With that said, why not do the same thing again for this new villain? Well besides the fact that we would literally be copying season 1 in that regard, I don’t think they are using a Link Vrains avatar. If they were using an avatar, the writers wouldn’t need to hide them in a silhouette because they would already be hiding who they actually are behind their Link Vrains’ form and behind a username, in which case, they wouldn’t have to list them as question marks. Back to the whole completely new character thing, why hide someone we don’t know about? When this guy is finally going to be unmasked, and if it is a new character we don’t know about, there would be no shock to it. The fandom’s reaction is just going to be “oh okay.” and that’s about it.

That’s why I’ve come to the conclusion that this has to be a character we have already met, to add in the shock factor when the reveal happens. Just going to get the popular theories that I’ve seen out of the way: it is not Dr. Kogami (he’s dead, the attack on the Cyberse happened during around the same time as the Tower of Hanoi, and him and the Mystery Man have different VAs), it isn’t the Light Ignis (I’ll come back to this Ignis later but why would he destroy his own home world?), and it is not Yusaku’s father (I want to know where his parents are, if they are dead or not, as much as the next person but I really don’t want another “the father is all important to the story” plot line like 5Ds, Zexal, and ARC-V had (I’m sick of this troupe at this point). This person isn’t any of those three and isn’t even an adult for that matter.

It was hard to get the timing right but as you can see, the Mystery Man is actually shorter then Bohman. Yeah I stated time and time again that these kinds of things shouldn’t be taken into account because Link Vrains avatars and whatnot but again, this person isn’t using an avatar. This would actually be how tall they are and if this guy was actually a full grown adult male, regardless if Bohman is using an avatar, he should still be taller then him.

So who is this person? Okay, just like most, if not all of my theories, this is going to sound completely crazy, heck I didn’t full believe this at first since some things didn’t add up, but after going through the evidence and really thinking hard about it, this is the only person we know about at the moment that the Mystery Man has to be.

He’s a Lost Incident victim who gave “birth” to the Light Ignis.

Jin Kusanagi.

Oh boy, where do I even begin with this? Jin = Revolver theory wasn’t good enough so here, let’s make Jin the memory dude. I just like to say this now, I never believed that theory for second. It just didn’t make sense from the whole Kusanagi not knowing where his brother was to the whole Dr. Kogami thing since that would mean he would also be Shoichi’s father as well and it was just a mess in every sense of the word.

“But Darky, we saw Jin get his mind ripped out of his body during the beginning of season 2 and then delivered to said Mystery Man. There is no way in hell he and the Mystery Man can be the same person!” - says everyone at the current moment.

I’m getting to that. My mess of a theory isn’t much better then that mess but the dots actually do connect on this one once you start to see them. And boy, did it take me a while to see them because of one glaring problem: the Ignis.

After we got this screenshot of the other four Ignises, with a good half of their designs revealed, with the Light one also having the star shaped crest on its chest just like Bohman did, I was for sure that one had to belong to him, making me have to do some rethinking on which one belong to which but if Jin is the Mystery Man, it would make sense for his to have the star crest, since he was the one to form this group, in the first place and it would go in line with the whole, what I like to call, Code Talker foreshadowing. 

We know the Six Ignises are based on the six attributes of Duel Monsters and share a lot of similarities with Yusaku’s Code Talkers that when Ai was first revealed to us next to Decode Talker, I thought they were one and the same. The Code Talker foreshadowing is basically foreshadowing to us which Ignis belongs to which Lost Child in the order of their debut appearance.

Decode (Dark) = Yusaku = Ai

Encode (Light) = Jin = Light Ignis

Excode (Wind) = Spectre = Windy

Powercode (Fire) = Takeru = Flame

Transcode (Earth) = ??? = Earth Ignis

Shootingcode (Water) = ??? = Water Ignis

After that glaring problem was fixed, the rest of the pieces just fitted together themselves. How can Jin be the Mystery Man? Simple.

That wasn’t actually Jin. It was his backup. 

I refuse to believe that the writers would introduce a plot point like that just for the Playmaker vs Bohman duel. One of those kids had to have been swapped with their backup data. We really can’t trust anyone because of this whole memory thing but we have seen Yusaku, Spectre, and soon to be Takeru during the Hanoi Project. We have seen nothing of Jin which I find somewhat strange. Then there is the whole issue with Jin and his PTSD. I’m not saying PTSD like that can’t happen but it does make you wonder what kind of effects it could have on an AI copy who was born from this. They don’t know how to be happy since they never experienced it. All they know is the torture.

As for the real Jin, it makes sense for him to attack the Cyberse World. He was replaced by an AI who stole his body and his life and no one, not even his own brother, even knows it. It makes sense for him to hate the Ignises since, in his mind, they were the reason why he was replaced in the first place. Those memories he gave Bohman he didn’t just pull out of nowhere, they were based off his own experiences. We don’t know what would have happened to Yusaku should he have lost his duel against Bohman but I’m starting to wonder if Jin thinks that all the Lost Children could have been replaced with their backups like he did and is trying to beat them and destroy them so the original “Lost Children” can get their bodies back. It would also make sense why he wouldn’t have an avatar since if he was already trapped in the network since he was six, he wouldn’t have been able to make one. The memory powers can also be explained because of this since if he has been trapped in the network for all these years, this could be a side effect because of it or maybe he was able to learn it somewhere. After all, the network is connected to the world wide web where knowledge is endless. I will admit I don’t exactly how he aged though but maybe because he is human and not data, maybe that’s why. 

And finally, if this theory is true, the context of this scene actually starts to make a whole lot more sense. Not going to lie, I was kinda surprise Kusanagi didn’t flip on Yusaku for not being able to save his brother but instead was just happy that him and Takeru made it back safe. I was always in the mind set that this Mystery Man was going to use Jin to get Kusanagi to betray Yusaku but if it is actually Jin who goes up to his brother and tells him everything that has been going on, the story takes a whole different route. Kusanagi would legitimately have a reason to be pissed at Yusaku and go against him. AI technology stole his brother away from him. The thing that has been around Yusaku’s wrist is part of the reason why. Add in the fact that again, Jin could think that the Yusaku we know could also be a backup and it is just a recipe for disaster.

Well that’s the theory. Madness as usually but there is a method to my madness somewhere in there. Could Mystery Man = Jin actually happen? Well we still don’t know Jin’s VA, the only time he “spoke”, or I guess his backup I should say, was him screaming bloody murder so there is also that. But yeah, as always, I like to know what you guys think of this while I’ll go hang this up on my Vrains Conspiracy Theory board.

[wenamedthedogkylo]

Tagged Yo

Name: Briana, but I go by Bree and sometimes Bryn

Gender: Genderfluid (65% female, 30% nonbinary/other, 5% male)

Star sign: Capricorn

Height: 5′ 8″

sexuality: Bisexual

What image do you have as wallpaper: A pic I took in FFXV of Ardyn which looks like he stole the camera and took a selfie. It’s my lockscreen and my wallpaper.

Have you ever had a crush on a teacher?: In like 2nd grade, cause all the boys in my year were trolls and I was sick of them. We don’t talk about it. Or 2nd grade in general, it was a bad year.

Where do you see yourself in 10 years: It’d be nice if I was settled in a successful acting/writing career, but the way things are going who knows.

If you could be anywhere else right now, where?: England. Preferably London. Unless we’re talking, like, LITERALLY anywhere, including places that don’t exist, cause then I’ll take Middle-earth or Eos.

What was your coolest Halloween costume: Uh... hm. Tough. I’m gonna go with my Phantom of the Opera Red Death costume sophomore year of college, because I made the mask myself. It was based on the movie version, obvs, and of course it was far from perfect, but it still turned out awesome and since it was also for a class, I got the highest grade on that mask-making project. So booyah. But in high school, I was Darth Vader, Eric Draven aka The Crow, Batman, and then I was gonna do The Joker (Dark Knight version) but I could only get the makeup and scars and not the suit, so my friend lent me a purple fairy costume and I was a Joker Fairy. I won a costume contest.

What’s your favorite 90s show: Uhhhhhh... I suddenly forgot literally all 90s shows. I didn’t really watch TV in the 90s, so... hang on lemme look some up. Okay uh... Dexter’s Lab, Powerpuff Girls, I really liked those. Um, Freaks & Geeks was pretty good? Oh, Friends is pretty classic. 

Who was your last kiss?: I literally have no idea, it’s been years lmao

Have you ever been stood up?: Not that I can think of, that sort of requires someone to ask you out, ya feel me?

Have you ever been to Las Vegas?: Once, my freshman year of college. My bff from high school’s mom paid for us to go see Avenged Sevenfold at the Hard Rock Café, only it was RIGHT before my very first finals. So obviously I said FUCK IT cause finals week was Thur-Wed, and I didn’t have any finals until Monday at 8:00 AM. So we flew out Friday morning, went to the concert Saturday night, and flew back Sunday. And then I went to my final hating the world but happy for the experience. Since I was still 17 at the time, we didn’t do any gambling or drinking but neither of us wanted to anyway so it was all good.

Favorite pair of shoes: Whichever one I’m wearing the most at any given time lmao

Favorite fruit: Probably mangoes, I really can’t resist them

Favorite book: The Hunchback of Notre Dame, followed closely by the Inferno from The Divine Comedy, Frankenstein, and Dracula.

Stupidest thing you’ve ever done: Only one thing? Jeez. Um. It’s either a) the time I stuck a prop necklace for a play I was doing in a floor socket, nearly electrocuted myself, destroyed the necklace the day before opening, and looked like a moron in front of my cast and crew, all because my brain literally went, “hey, this part of the necklace is flat! I bet it would fit in that slot on the socket!”; b) the time I tried networking at the place I was temping because I wanted them to offer me a permanent job, and ended up so drunk that I passed out on the MAX home, stumbled off a stop, fell over and puked on my boots, and had to be taken to the emergency room; or c) the time I was at a band trip up the river in high school and wanted to swim across the river with my friends, forgetting that I was a scrawny weakling until I was at the mercy of the current, nearly got run over by a jet boat, and was so tired by the time I crawled to the rocks on the other side that they were already ready to go back across, I had to rest, and then almost drowned trying to swim/float my way back over because I was so tired. Straw poll, what do you think was the stupidest?

Hogwarts House: Ravendor, it’s really a 50/50 split at this point

Hours of sleep: Who the hell knows anymore? Usually 6+, often 12 because ~my brain doesn’t work properly~.

Blankets you sleep with: Preferably like one or two sheets, a comforter, and maybe some soft throws on top of that, but I’m not picky anymore.

Favorite Bands: Panic! at the Disco and Fall Out Boy are probably the top right now, also Imagine Dragons and WALK THE MOON probably, and Golden Bough which I’ve listened to literally since I was born. And I guess you could count Vitamin String Quartet. I don’t really listen to music that required bands much...

Favorite Solo artists: I actually listen to more solo artists than bands, but still less than just classical and instrumental. Faves are probably Lady Gaga, David Bowie, The Living Tombstone, Kesha, Andrew Bird, Sia, and Syrano.

Song stuck in my head: O-FUCKING-KAY LET ME TELL YOU, so for the last like two weeks I’ve had three songs cycling through my head and I wanna die. Bitch Better Have My Money (okay, not bad, it’s a fuckin awesome song); Tunak Tunak (SWEAR TO GOD WHY, WHY DID IT COME BACK TO HAUNT ME); and to my utter horror The Living Tombstone’s “W* *r* N*mb*r *n*” remix (I WANT TO FUCKING DIE AND IT’S @chocokweehn‘S FAULT)

Last movie I watched: Alice in Wonderland (1951), I got nostalgic

Why did I create my blog: Someone on the ProBoards RP I was on posted a gif, and I was like 😱 what is this soRCERY? WITCHCRAFT?! And so I boogied over here and just started exploring. And I’ve been here ever since, just cause I liked the format and the reblogging and the Idk the community feel? And now I’m trapped like the rest of you lol.

What do I post: Basically anything I think is worth it. Humor, politics/activism stuff, art (mostly others, sometimes mine), fandom stuff, pretty things, Idk just whatever.

When did I create my blog: Like early 2011? I think February 2011, I’d have to check which I don’t know how to do

Do I have other blogs?: So fuckin many, mostly RP blogs, but the main other ones are @peredhelhathladring, which was my last URL that I wanted to save so I made it a Star Wars only blog (which is funny cause the URL is in Sindarin, a very not-Star Wars language), and @breerps which is my writing/RP/inspiration blog.

Do you get asks?: Now and then.

Following Blogs: 1,836, and honestly so many are probably inactive and I need to go cull them but who has the energy for that

Favorite colors: Dark red, dark purple, black, and gold

Lucky numbers: 7

Instruments: I played flute from 5th grade to I think sophomore or junior of high school, then switched to alto saxophone from then to freshman year of college. I still have my instruments, I just haven’t lived anywhere where I could play them without disturbing other people. I’ve dabbled with piano and guitar for a long time and I have a keyboard that I plunk at sometimes.

What am I wearing: Black t-shirt, black, gray, and pink fuzzy pj pants, and Star Wars socks

Dream job: Actor and writer

Dream trip: Paris, specifically to Notre Dame

Favorite food: Chocolate. Just, yeah... chocolate.

Nationality: American

Followers: 1,441, with blocking all porn blogs lmao

Reasons for your url: Because I’m Star Wars trash, and I was thinking about how Indiana Jones named himself after the dog and was like how funny would it be if Kylo Ren did that?

Tagging: @aceofaces20, @comepraisetheinfanta, @maiievshadowsong, @arcanerogues, @hey-hey-shutthefuckup, uh yeah just whoever wants to

[kojinnie]

Karst Mining Village

He was an aspiring geologist, and I had hoped that he would have had more scholarly penchant, of studious nature in him. A unique curiousity towards the geologic disciples, that I would find attractive. I've always thought that such quality would justify my wish of seeing him as a successful geologist with robust contribution one day. I would take it as a nod to the secret hope that I would have a reliable future with him.

Yet, upon returning from a field study trip at a karst mine, instead of a nerdy ramble about speciments he had attained, he'd talked endlessly about the people of the nearby village, and it was not even of an anthropological nature, rather it was talked out of an overblown sentimentality, that it was almost offensive to hear. "Seeing them makes me so grateful of my life," I was waiting for a redeemable follow-up, but alas, I was bound for disappointment, "They need people like us to help them."

I realized one of the worst traits of him was not his ability (or lack thereof) in understanding nuanced jokes where the only feedback he'd have for my self-deprecating humor was turning the harmless talk into a motivational pep talk, or his capability in holding onto an opinion although it was wrong. Rather, it was his palpable savior complex, that he'd often sounded almost . . . white.

He had a very idealized perspective about the world, his family and . . . me. I was taking Political Economy as my minor, and one day I was confused whether to base my essay to certain study case with a Keynesian principles or not. Naturally, I would ramble my confusion out to him, and I hadn't expected him to grasp the idea in one go, but I had expected him to at least ask questions, as it would help my understanding process as well. But all he came out with was, "Wow you're so cool."

I was under the impression that maybe he  was not in the mood to process a discourse, thus the response; imagine how surprised I was the next morning to open up my social network and seeing him posted a poetry (on public timeline!) about 'his intellectual lover'; where he claimed that, 'I can see her as our Minister of Finance in the future'; where what I would do was: 'Helping those in needs.'

It was clear to me that he had no grip of reality, or the fact that he didn't know that just because someone was learning basic economics, it didn't mean she knew anything about finance; or maybe the fact that he didn't know the appropriate title in this context would  be Minister of Economy. . . or Minister of Welfare.

But all that aside, maybe I need to give credit where credit is due. He wasn't stupid, he knew about a lot of things that I did not know existed. He had a deep self-introspective nature in him that I admired. He was an enigmatic people person. Whenever he picked me up from my faculty, he'd always make time to talk with my friends and they were drawn to him for he had a very positive energy in him. I also enjoyed that I was practically the First Lady of his faculty for he was the President of his Student Body Congress. My vanity never ceased to conquer.

I tried to locate his basic fault and I realized it was his . . . childlike enthusiasm that often got the better of him. It was his lack of drive for verification that made him eat things out of people's hands. He was too gullible to say the least, and I couldn't help to think that my cynical tendency or my sardonic joke was simply not a great fit for him.

One thing for sure was on the late years of college, we drifted apart. I'd always known that he liked to display his love through persistent and tenacious act of service, no matter how mundane it would be.

He always insisted to drive me everywhere, that he would take it as an offense when I opted to ride my bike back home from the college. I knew he considered me as a challenge because I was too independent for his liking, and somewhere on the back of his mind, he was adamant to 'save me'.

He was certain that my disregarding his service was due to my self-loathe, he thought I thought I didn't deserve such loving, and he was set to 'Make you realize how loveable you are.' I won't lie, it was sweet until it got to be incessant, where he would consider my yearning for me-time as another mission for him to deliver me with foods and voice-notes that said things along the lines of: 'I know at this point you have so much on your shoulder. But remember that you were destined for the world and I would hold the weight of the universe with you, forever.'

I'd ignored those messages, for I had nothing worthy to say other than the fact that I wasn't out there saving the world or battling my demons like what he thought I'd be doing. I was shredding my lungs out trying to sing to Barbra Streisand's broadway songs, or I was re-watching The Jurassic Park for the fifth times. He failed to see that I was already a happy person, and my delightment was simple, superficial and did not involve him in most parts.

I knew at some points he had turned to his friends for help. And I also knew at one point he had a female friend he'd been talking regularly to ease his mind off of me.

Initially he would ask for her opinions about me, maybe through that he began to see a quality of her that he had hoped to see in me: leniency, delicacy, overall feminine qualities that would turn somber in my presentation. So they'd spend more time together, and eventually he got what he wanted as he gradually started to take his mind off of me.

I rode my bike more often to campus, for he'd been occupied by other things. When I spent the night until very late at the library, he would make sure that I knew I had him as an option for a ride home, but once I said I had my bike ready, he'd return to sleep and only call me the next morning, checking that I had a safe ride back home.

He once introduced me to his female friend of his, and even in one encounter I could see that she was his blueprint of an ideal woman. I knew it wouldn't be long until we part ways, but I just didn't have the heart to be the one to do that.

Finally came the days where I was engulfed in yet another ambitious project of mine, some things I regularly do when I've gotten bored over watching some dinosaur movies. I was set for an overseas competition and I had been spending all day training with my team. He had been busy as well, setting up a teaching project set to eradicate illiteracy at the karst mine village, so he was in and out of the city for most of the times.

We didn't talk much until the days leading up to my departure. We had only met again when he insisted to take me to the airport although I knew he was supposed to be in the village that night. On our way to the airport, he'd talked about all the things he had learned from the village, only this time it was different. He had amazing plans laid out, practical and strategic. And he uttered it with so much reasonable confidence. It was a very delightful moment to see him that way.

He walked with me until the check-in gate, where we embraced. I did not know why, but that day we were different persons than who we were years ago when we met for the first time. He carressed my hair, and he said, "Good luck."

I laughed because I had gotten very nervous about the competition and I needed all the luck in the world, "Thank you." as I buried my head in his embrace once again.

He let out a deep sigh and said, "You are set for the world. Always have been, always will be."

I couldn't help but to stare at him, and something told me that we both knew this was the end, "You know things wouldn't be the same when I get back, right?"

"Yes. I know."

"I know I've never been the best at expressing this, but--" I choked at my own feelings, which left me feeling very surprised, "--I do love you. And I appreciate every little thing you do. You are, truly, extraordinary."

He smiled, "Thank you." while landing a soft kiss on my forehead, "Now go get the world."

I remember coming up with the theory that lack of oxygen drives one to be relatively more sentimental than usual, because I had been crying a lot on the airplane that day, for I had lost the person, perhaps the only person that had ever believed in me more than anyone I had ever met in my life.

[saecris]

HEADCANON DUMP #7

a majority of these headcanons were written either pre or post volume three. so a lot of them have been debunked by canon info, but i wanted to save my speculations.

sixty one accommodate story about ren’s parents backing and participating in the oniyuri project. this is where they were planning to elope. you can still incorporate parts of the butterfly lovers in their story. because ren did not recognise oniyuri and has only heard of it, we can assume he’s never been there. this was just a plan that his parents discussed with him in secret. might have to spectate about ren possibly being from mistral. nora did not recognise the story. spectating about a kind of special grimm associated with this part of mistral. edit: looks like it was a nuckelavee edit: it is now after volume four, and a lot of the information has been rendered redundant. however: i. ren’s parent’s plans to elope to oniyuri has now been incorporated into his backstory. ii. they did invest a lot of time and money into the project, most of the money having come from what zhilan was saving.

sixty two include ren’s sensory abilities into the mana manipulation headcanon, about how he can sense not only his own but the aura of other individuals. seen in rwby volume four episode six: tipping point, able to sense danger in the form of tyrian approaching rnjr at incredible speeds. this kind of sensory ability was seen right before his fight with the king taijitus, all the way in volume one episode six: the emerald forest. but also write down your new headcanon involving his semblance having something to do with empathy, and his ability to sense auras, manipulating his own emotions as well as others, even at a distance. edit: ren’s semblance is solely empathy until that headcanon is also debunked.

sixty three the lunar cult, often referred to as ‶the lunar kingdom‶ is the source of a major religion practiced in the area of mistral surrounding kuroyuri, oniyuri, and shion. the cult itself protects a white haired witch with as of yet undeterminable powers, but the mountain in which they reside is considered haunted, forbidden, dangerous. there is no record of outsiders venturing in and coming out alive. the lunar religion celebrates the moon goddess, as well as the belief that human kind descended from the moon men. it’s effects on the surrounding region include grand festivals for the winter solstice to celebrate the longest night of the year. mistral is heavily in tune with nature, so referring to your sweetheart as some kind of natural element is common, ie. sky and sea, moon and stars.

sixty four prior to moving to kuroyuri ren lived in a compound with all the other members of the lie family, a network of beautiful traditional houses of both large and small stature, interconnected with bridges, walkways, gorgeous gardens, made of incredibly elaborate architecture. the property itself was miles long and covered a mountain range. the entrance of it was around a twenty minute walk from kuroyuri. when his family was attacked by bandits three years prior to the start of the series, a lot of the of compound burned down. lie cuifen (ren’s grandmother) who had previously not been very involved in the business transactions of their family, managed to reel in a lot of the investments they’d lost, and still remains incredibly wealthy to this day. ren’s mentor, feng (oc based on mushu lore), takes in students from time to time and trains them in the lie compound, which is being rebuilt. he has built a reputation of being an extremely selective but highly successful teacher, with all of his students passing their combat academy entrance exams with flying colours.

sixty five ren has good leadership qualifications, but his characteristics fall more into the ‘unwilling protagonist’ spectrum than anything noteworthy. i’m not that deluded in my admiration to currently admit that ren and nora’s roles in the show are anything more than minimal (ren’s background story functions more as a case study than anything else). this is more of a conclusion i’ve come to when speculating on traits commonly shown in mulan’s case. not necessarily in disney’s mulan, but most other versions of the story including the original ballad, she does end up assuming a commander’s position in the army after a few years of dedication. ren is shown to have an adaptive and versatile fighting style, using the elements around him in order to gain the advantage (this has even extended to using other character’s weapons as of volume four.) he’s also incredibly observant, so there isn’t any reason he wouldn’t be able to use another character’s abilities to further their lead. he’s good with organisation, tactics, strategy, and also has a strong sense of duty. he has very good instincts; holding jaune back from fighting tyrian, understanding the right time to strike, knowing what they need to do in order to survive. what i believe makes him a better follower than a leader in his team’s case is linked to his personality. ren is not personable, and the way he comes across in the beginning makes it seem like he views others more as tools than people. he does care for his teammates, but his instinct is to protect himself first, to survive. he works better on his own. he can follow orders to a t, and oftentimes needs instructions to function so he is at his most useful as a subordinate under someone he trusts.

sixty six ren is hypocritical. mostly he is live, and let live, but he will chastise those close to him about taking care of themselves and not getting hurt, but he will indulge in some of the most self destructive behaviour like alientating himself and smoking. during beacon days he constantly nagged nora and jaune about being healthy but he was constantly drinking soda, coffee, and energy drinks to keep himself awake. when he is a professional huntsman, while he understands that getting hurt is inevitable, he will ask his loved ones to put themselves above his own welfare, and then go behind their backs and sacrifice himself if he can. it’s honestly infuriating.

sixty seven ren’s noticeable improvement with physical affection was, of course, largely due to beacon’s influence. my characterisation has a lot of his personable attributes increase because of his interactions at beacon. my ren’s personal space issues are rooted deeply in the symbolism of connection. he is deathly afraid of someone getting close enough to him to hurt him when they betray him or when they inevitably leave, even if it’s through no fault of their own. surrendering to his occasional want to be touched means that he is building up some kind of relationship and he’s deathly afraid of that. he also just doesn’t like being touched unless absolutely necessary; he likes being aware about what people around him are doing, and being touched by people he doesn’t want to brings up memories he’d rather not bring up again. throughout the entirety of beacon ren has show distain for being touched, in the show and in rwby chibi as well. any light hearted pounce he’s seen to be visibly shocked by ( although i have noticed that the two times jaune’s touched him, ren has responded appropriately and in kind. the only other person he’s reacted to similarly was nora. ) if ren initiates physical touch with you, it means that he’s either treating some kind of wound for you, or you’re special to him. he touches mostly out of habit, and to reassure himself that you’re actually real.

sixty eight some characterisation notes that run alongside ren’s association with he chinese folklore god nezha are, firstly that nezha is a protection deity. ren is a huntsman, and it is inherently coded into their profession to protect those who cannot protect themselves. parts of the lore that are applicable to ren are some familiar thematics, which i can only guess were taken into consideration when ren was made ( just from the wind and fire blades thing ? that just seems like a big coincidence that wind and fire disks are nezha’s preferred weapon and ren’s preferred dust cartridges. ) there’s also the the theme that ren had to grow up far too quickly, while nezha was born into a fully grown boy already, then forced to wage war. the storms left in the wake of nezha’s sacrifice i associate with li’s sacrifice in kuroyuri, some of those being metaphorical and remaining in ren’s mind. then there is the continuous resurgence of being reborn, rebirth, reincarnation through the lotus themes, which appear repeatedly through my characterisation.

sixty nine it’s sort of a given why now, but ren hates horses. he hates the sound they make, and he hates anything similar to the nightmarish screams of the nuckelavee. hearing sound effects similar used to induce a state of panic but now only serves to trigger an extremely bad mood which won’t disperse for the rest of the day.

seventy i was thinking about ren’s capability to do single handstand pushups in chibi. basically all the feats that ren was capable of in rwby chibi, episode nine: “ren plays tag”. i couldn’t help but remember that he performed a similar movement in the season finale of volume four. in my other extended combat analysis of ren’s fighting style all evidence i gathered alluded to his legs being stronger, after all, ren’s agility has always been impeccable: he is seen to be able to reach incredibly high tree tops on single jumps alone, jumps that ruby and nora needed mechanised assistance to reach. but i neglected to talk about ren’s arm strength. ren utilises palm strikes, in grimm eclipse in succession, when attacking which is said to produce more energy than a regular punch with far less injury to the striker’s hand. the shock absorption required when this attack is being amplified with raw aura ( enough raw aura to burst open a king taijitu’s head ) must be immense. his main striking force when it comes to his regular slashing style also relies on the speed and strength of blade control, especially considering he does the most damage with the blades ( and very minimal damage with his bullets. ) there’s also the fact that he held back the taitiju’s fangs with his arms, the force field generated by aura would have helped when it came to stopping the fangs from sinking into him, but that he wasn’t blown away by a two tonne snake was also impressive. he held back the snake for a significant amount of time too, almost seven seconds on screen, possibly longer. i do know that he’s not getting fuckin’ k.o.’d during fights anymore, so he’s definitely gotten stronger, which is what i’m all about. okay, but that elegant flip thing he did at the beginning of volume four, chapter twelve: no safe haven is everything. not only was it a perfectly executed one handed handstand with a spiral flip, but he did it while armed as well. this boy is incredible. that kind of movement requires a lot of strength, and i’m finding that that’s just ren’s style, it’s flamboyant and beautiful, a lot of grace in power. i can’t even remember if there was a point to this hc anymore, i just wanted to talk about how some things in chibi are being alluded to in the show. and also there were a bunch of cretinous annoyances prior to volume three speaking about how weak ren is, and let me tell you, training next to him would give you so many confidence issues man. this boy is strong. not only that but his fighting prowess is spread out in multiple different ways. he has one of the most diverse fighting styles in rwby so shut the fuck up.

[girlieinterns]

This week on Professional Confessional, I had the opportunity to speak with Angela Mastrogiacomo about her PR firm and all of her current projects.  Check out the interview below:

Maxine Musto: If you could have your own Wikipedia page, what would the synopsis be?

Angela Mastrogiacomo: It would say something about being a speaker and educator.  Those are my two favorite things.

MM: Tell me about what you’re currently doing.

AM: For the last five years, I have been running Muddy Paw PR. We work with artists on PR campaigns, helping develop their social media presence, their branding, and writing their bios. Earlier this year, I co-founded a company called Music Launch Co., a membership group for artists and industry professionals to come together. The music industry can be a really cutthroat place, and there’s this idea that no one wants to share what works for them. If one person succeeds, it means that you can’t.  We wanted to create a space where people could come together, ask questions, get candid, honest, and raw answers, and feel supported. About two months ago, I decided to pivot and instead of doing so much one on one work, I decided I wanted to get more into education and reach a wider audience. Now I am starting to develop my own personal brand where I am building a mailing list, getting a YouTube channel going, and launching a podcast and a course in the fall. With the mailing list, there will be a free four-part training on growing your audience, press, and everything else.  I feel like now that I’ve been in the industry for ten years and I’ve been in PR for five, I want to get to that point where I can reach more people. It’s so hard to not get burnt out doing only one on one work all the time. I want to be able to connect with people on a wider scale, that’s where I get my fulfillment.

MM: Can you give me a sneak peek of this four-part trial?

AM: I tried to make it so that it can appeal to anyone starting a business, which includes musicians and industry professionals. I created it so that it would work for anyone who is pursuing an entrepreneurial path, wants to build their career, or start a business. We go over how to build your audience and how to get yourself out there. Whether it’s your music, business, whatever it is. Once you’re in front of people, how do you actually get them to care, be engaged, and connect with you? How do you even write a pitch? What does that mean? I forget sometimes that some people don’t know what I’m talking about when I say build your media list or write a pitch. I go through how to write a pitch and I include a template so that you can actually work from that template to create your own pitch, develop your brand, and figure out how to network and build relationships. It’s a good starting point if you’re like, “I know I need to know all things but I don’t even know what all the things are.”  This is a really good introduction to learning all of that and getting your feet wet so that you can dive into any one of these areas.

MM: We talked about all of the pivots you took. Can you tell me how you landed on all of those different paths?

AM: The first pivot was when I started in the industry.  I started a music blog, and I knew I wanted to write and be in the music industry because I was five years in at that point. I also knew that it was going to be very difficult for me to build a career just from blogging. I had been on the receiving end of press releases for so long and felt like I had a really good handle on what worked, what made me want to open an email, and what made me want to feature an artist. It was a very natural transition. Then, I started talking about Music Launch Co.  I was feeling very burnt out with all of this one on one client work. There are so many aspects to love, like the relationship building, but it’s a lot of work and very exhausting after a while. A friend and I were just having a normal conversation and we both started talking about what was missing in the industry. That was how Music Launch Co. was born, it was very organic.  Then about a couple of months ago, same thing, I knew I wanted to do more a far as reaching more people on a larger scale. I can also save some energy so that I can do a better job of serving people because I’m not burned out.  I’m really excited about it!  I remember feeling this way when I first started Muddy Paw. Everything is new, full of possibility, I can see it all, and that’s really exciting.

MM: If you could have dinner with someone living or dead who would it be and why?

AM: I’ve always really admired Simon Sinek. He has this TED Talk and the book “Start with Why.” When I first saw that talk and read the book, it completely changed my whole perspective on branding and business. I just think he’s very clever and insightful, and I would love to sit down and have a normal person conversation with him. I feel like even the most mundane, normal, everyday conversation would still leave me feeling inspired for the next year.

MM: What is an artist or band you think everyone should know?

AM: That’s so tough. There are so many indie artists I absolutely love! Can I give one indie artist and one huge artist?

MM: Of course!

AM: I actually think I have two indie artists. One of them is Shadow of Whales. They were actually one of my first clients, and they are just amazing. I am such a sucker for pop-punk and alternative rock, and they are the best of both worlds. They are also some of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Then also Jon Pattie, same thing.  Love his music, but also the nicest person on earth. His whole thing is about personal growth and development is really important to me, so I love that. On a national scale, I am still hard into The Gaslight Anthem and anything Brian Fallon has ever touched.

MM: What advice would you give someone who wants to work in your position?

AM: Do an internship, preferably in person. I did not do an internship, and I wasted so much time trying to figure it all out myself and not knowing what I was doing. If I had spent time interning for another PR company, it would have saved me a lot of time. On that same thought: asking for help. I spent a lot of time stubborn or afraid that I would look stupid or weak or people would think I had no idea what I was doing, so I would not ask anyone for help. When I finally started asking people for help, including other publicists I looked up too, they were so welcoming and it transformed my ability to not only be a better publicist but also run a business a lot more efficiently. Finally, focus on building your relationships, it really is everything. I don’t think you can do anything in this industry without solid relationships. It’s also just nice! Some of my best and closest friends have come from networking, and now we talk about anything. There is really no downside to it.  I know it can be intimidating, I’m an introvert, but if you can look at it as basically making friends, it takes a little bit of the pressure off.

Check out Angela’s website for more!

[after-skies-ananthology]

I'm a member of the President's new space force, here's what I've seen so far

BLACK SKY WARS

the second part

approx. 5 yrs ASE

You ever been inside a Colorado police station before? Here’s a better question, have you ever had to pick up your troubled brother from a Colorado police station before? If you have, then you may be able to sympathize with my plight that day. I had been waiting there since 1300 for him to be released. Our parents died about a year after I left for the Army. We have very few relatives who cared about us (my parents were pretty much the blacksheep of their families), so it was of course down to me to take care of him. It’s probably for the best that it happened this way I suppose. Being in the military, I get all sorts of benefits and on-base housing necessary to help raise him until he’s an adult. Which makes one side of that equation easy. The other side, the actually parenting him side, well, I just don’t know. He’s about 16 now. Gets in fights all the time. I think he may be apart of some anarchist punk gang that spray paints public property and vandalizes abandoned areas or some shit like that. I can’t really keep up with it. We barely see each other. He’s never home. I think - well, I mean, I’m never home.

I had volunteered for an earlier transition into the Space Corps than the rest of my unit after being offered a lucrative bonus. I’ve been an E-6 for three years now. And I’d say with confidence that I’m pretty good at my job. My military job, not my parenting one, that is. I suppose the military offered me that bonus for my skills in tracking space objects and directing joint partners against spaceborne threats - not my skills in guiding my brother through life and giving him a chance to feel like a happy, successful adult. I apologize for how depressing I must sound. But I’m doing the best I can. And I’m starting to think the best I can do is not good enough. I feel like the more successful I am in the military, the more I fail my little brother as his guardian.

The cops had called me while I was at work. Me and the newest member of my section were going over Counterspace Academics, which is the term we use for the death by powerpoint sessions we put our people through every now and then just to make sure they still know their job. It is ungodly boring stuff sometimes. Basic shit everyone knows out of tech school. The NCOIC for our flight was droning on about one of the first anti-satellite weapons (ASAT) tested by the United States back when women still wore shoulder pads. The ASM-135 Bold Orion II. Basically a converted nuclear cruise missile with it’s warhead taken out, and replaced with a hardened micro-satellite that would detach from it once in orbit and then proceed to smash into its target like a hockey player. The Air Force was even successful in taking out one of its own failed satellites with the 135, proving it could work. However, due to the death of the Soviet Union, and increasing skepticism surrounding the Strategic Defense Initiative, the project was quietly cancelled. That was until defense industry executive and weapon designer “extraordinaire” Frank Monterrey stuck his nose in it.

Mad Monterrey cried foul before the ink even dried on the cancellation orders. He then proceeded to cry foul for over a decade after that. In the 90s and early 2000s, he would even buy late night air time on a few of the major networks to present his case for renewed ASAT development and even - you guessed it - an independent space branch of the military. Today, my unit is responsible for the direction and employment of the fruits of his ‘labor’. The General Systems ASM-270 Orion’s Revenge. This one is not only faster than the 135, but it has more destructive potential as well. After passing through the mesosphere and into the thermosphere, its first stage detaches allowing its second stage to engage briefly for several seconds in a wild fireball. After this initial burst of flames is over, the rotors attached at the nose unfold from the missile’s remaining fuselage like a parasol. Small angled tip jets located at the end of each rotor blade then ignite, allowing the weapon to adjust its velocity as it enters orbit.

As it approaches the vicinity of its prey, the tip jets deactivate. At this point, the missile’s rotors (made of a special hardened alloy) can be used to permanently damage or completely destroy whatever they impact. After a few goes, whatever rotors remain can be used to steer the ASAT to its final target using its last bit of fuel - killing the adversary space object with a kinetic blow via the tungsten encased cone that constitutes its nose. Using this method, the 270 is capable of targeting a small constellation of targets (usually three to five objects, depending on size). Because of how it unfolds after launch, those in our unit have taken to calling it the The Killer Umbrella.

Sorry, I feel like I went off on a tangent there. We’re supposed to be talking about my brother. His name is Jerry. Our mom named him that because... Um, well, I’ll be honest I can’t remember now. She told me once when I was younger but, I don’t seem to have soaked it in. Let’s see, I know he skateboards. And, well, I think he likes to vape (maybe?). I know he listens to that genre of music on the internet, vaporwaver, or something like that? That’s... probably why I think he vapes. This is kind of embarrassing to admit but - I’m supposed to take care of him, and I’ve been taking care of him for quite some time now, and yet I don’t know a thing about him with any certainty. I can talk for days about this missile I’ve only seen pictures of in a class room, give you every little detail of its development and even the politics surrounding it, but I can’t be bothered to even invest a minutia of time into figuring out who he is or the kind of young man he’s developing into. I guess I shouldn’t blame anyone other than myself when he gets in trouble like this.

It took me about thirty minutes to leave base and arrive at the police station. I walked up to the sheriff’s deputy sitting at the front desk and asked him my question, “Hi there, my name is Wesley Fervek. I received a call telling me my little brother Jerry has been arrested?”

The deputy looked me up and down, dressed in my OCPs, with new Space Corps regalia adorned upon it. He replied, “Uhh yeah, the little skater asshole, spat at me when they brought him and his punk friends in.”

I scratched the back of my head and tried to save face, “I’m really sorry he did that. I think he may just have a lot of adrenaline and peer pressure going through him right now. He’s really not like this.”

“Right.” The deputy said as he rolled his eyes, picking up the phone at his desk. “Ray, its Diaz, skater asshole’s brother is here to pick him up...“ He looked back up at me, noticing the name tape on my left chest that read U.S. SPACE CORPS. He joked to his friend over the phone, “Oh, scratch that, Buzz Lightyear’s bottom bitch is here to pick him up.” He began to chuckle as he threw the phone back down into its place, forming a shit eating grin as he looked at me and said, “Hey man, relax. I’m just having a little fun at your expense. He did spit at me after all.”

I kept back the urge to throw my fist through the glass that separated us. “Right.” I said back to him. “So I take it he’s not being charged with anything?”

He said, “That’s right, one of his little friends was the one that actually assaulted someone. With a knife no less. From what the victim told us, your brother tried to calm things down. Anyways, you can have a seat over there while my friends finish questioning him.” He pointed to rows of wooden chairs behind me, arranged to face the bulky box TV that belonged to some other era of history.

I furrowed my brow and said “Thanks” under my breath, trying to prevent my anger at this prick from swelling out of control. I sat down in one of the front chairs and checked my phone, I saw that I had received a text from one of my troops. Her name was Space Specialist First Class June Alvarez, and she was one of many to be the first to attend Space Corps basic training at Lackland Air Force Base. Her text read, “Sergeant, I know you had to go to the police station, but could you hurry back? The powerpoint is over and we’re back to work now, but I’m still pretty lost on some of the telemetry stuff you were showing me earlier and no one really wants to help me at the moment.”

I texted her back, “I’ll be as fast as I can but these cops are being assholes right now. Go get Sergeant Flores, I know she’s studying for her 7-level test, but if you really are in dire need of help right now she shouldn’t be too mad that you’re interrupting her.”

I sat back and stared at the blurry, horribly antiquated machine in front of me as it spewed out ad after incessant ad. One featuring a beautiful young bikini-clad blonde sipping a Sodaco amidst a conga line on the beach - Introducing Sodaco Lime, the voice-over said, the familiar taste that America trusts with a refreshing twist. Another featuring footage taken from the Armstrong moon base, with the ERAS logo in the corner, finally centering on the company’s CEO with a drink in his hand as the music from 2001 plays in the background. This time the voice-over said - Mental is now the official soft drink of ERAS CEO Hood Fisher, what’s yours? Get Mental or get out! Finally, a less annoying one appeared after that was over. This time featuring supersonic airliners elegantly passing through clouds set to the tune of a soothing score. The voice-over asked, With a safety record and time to destination like ours, just remind us again - Why wouldn’t you fly Air Virginia?

After that hell of hokey commercials was past, the news returned. The commentator was grey-haired, bespectacled, and wearing a dark blue tie, signifying his well-known outspoken support for the Alliance Party. “Breaking at the top of the hour, our coverage continues on the situation in the Indian Ocean as it now appears attack boats belonging to the New Indies Construction Front have besieged a Navy hospital ship attempting to relieve wounded and dead from evacuated American and allied forces that escaped Diego Garcia last week...” He then proceeded to go into a long rant about the President and the Homeland Party while talking over a reporter who was live from the scene. The TV signal must have become distorted somehow, because eventually I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. It was as if he was mumbling. The picture on the screen blurred out even more, making the images depicted indiscernible. I began to feel weird physically. Light headed. I’m not sure if it was the stress of the day or the fact that I had been sitting there a while or what, but I had this gnawing sense of danger in the pit of my chest. The room became bright, and for a second, I thought I saw some sort of indescribable shape appear out from behind the TV.

All of the sudden, I heard a voice speak to me. not from any direction, but as if from all directions.

“You must wait to hit your target until 1935. No later. Do not let the girl with the long legs see what you are doing.“

I woke up out of my trance, shouting “What?” as I realized nothing was behind the TV. I was in a cold sweat now. I felt as though I had just woken up early in the morning. I looked outside, the sun was beginning to go down. How long was I out? Was I ‘out’? The program I was watching was over now, the blue haired woman with the FPML button on her lapel was on instead. Knowing that she comes on quite a few program slots after the old guy with the dark blue tie, I inferred that I must have napped for... four hours? “What the fuck?” I said out loud as I quickly took out my phone. It was dead. “Not good.” I said to myself.

Just then the door to the detention area opened. I turned my head and saw Jerry. “Alright, we’re done questioning the little punk.” The deputy from before said, pushing Jerry forward into the waiting room. He was holding his favorite skateboard in his hands, gifted to him by our dad many Christmases ago, now broken in half.

Jerry turned around a gave him the middle finger. “Lick my ass, pig!”

I shouted at him. “Jerry! Knock that shit off. What the fuck is wrong with you?”

He turned and saw me, now becoming even angrier. Everything became silent for a moment. Finally, he spoke up and said “Can we just get the hell out of here? I’m tired of smelling pork.” He looked back at the cop and gave him a scowl.

I grabbed him by the shoulder, “Be quiet so we can leave, moron.”

He flinched and brushed my hand off. “I don’t need your stupid ass advice.” He said angrily, and walked threw the doors outside to the parking lot. I followed him.

As he approached my truck, I unlocked it for him so he could get inside. But before he did, he slammed the remnants of his board into the bed of the pick-up. I yelled at him again, “Could you not throw shit around like that? This is my truck! I paid for it. It’s what gets you to school!”

He yelled at me in turn, “Could you shut the fuck up for once? Goddamn you’re so fucking annoying.“ Slamming the passenger side door on me before I could say anything back.

Not wanting to take this any further, I walked around to the driver’s side. As I started the engine, I realized from before that my phone was dead. I plugged it into to my car charger. I noticed then Jerry had a tear rolling down the side of his face. I know he must have been upset by the whole ordeal. I tried to speak to him, beginning to verbalize his name, but before I could get anything else out my phone reactivated and alerted me with a series of text message and missed call alerts. My attention was fixated on that now as I realized I had missed over thirty text messages from seven different people and eighteen phone calls from Alvarez, Flores, and my NCOIC.

I opened Alvarez’s most recent message. “Sergeant, where are you? The NCOIC has been trying to call you for two hours now. He needs you to get down here quick! I’m not gonna say why because OPSEC, but get down here! Please!”

I let out one long “Fuck!” as I read that. Jerry wiped his face with his shirt and asked “What now?”

Without answering I bolted the truck out of the parking space and started driving back to base twenty or thirty miles over the speed limit. Jerry kept trying to ask me questions on the way there, realizing there was something wrong, but I refused to talk to him. I just kept dropping F bombs over and over as I swerved in and out of potential car crashes on the way back to the squadron control room. We finally got to the gate, and I hurriedly took out my CAC card and gave it to the Security Forces guy standing outside my truck. The airman scanned it and said, “His too please.” Pointing at Jerry.

I screamed at my brother, “Come on give me your goddamn ID!”

He screamed back “Alright! Calm down. Jesus.”

The airman looked calm as I had my episode. I gave him the ID to scan, and he let us on our way. Arriving at my unit’s building, I cut someone in a muscle car off before they could take the space that I wanted. I left the windows rolled down, turned the engine off and hopped out. Jerry was still inside. He shouted at me, indignant, “How goddamn long are you gonna be?”

I cringed, turning to him as I took my wallet out, removing my CAC card and security badge from it. I threw it at him and said “If you want dinner, walk down to the BX and get something from the food court!” I booked it into the building.

As I ran up to the polarized bullet proof glass doors protecting the world of my profession from prying eyes outside, I saw the sign placed just before the steps proudly displaying our squadron’s battle cry below our new service’s motto. The former read “WE MAINTAIN THE BALANCE”, with the latter exclaiming “SECURE THE HIGH GROUND”. I pulled on the door handle, rushing inside as I was met with another Security Forces airman who needed to check my security badge before letting me through. After being let inside, I sprinted down the hallway to the control room where my work station was. There were five people crowded around it. The NCOIC, Alvarez, and two women in Class B uniforms who were unfamiliar to me. There name plates read “Hayek” and “Hayek-Song” respectively, which made me wonder if they were siblings or something. The one with the hyphenated surname was an E-6 like me, which is called a Color Sergeant in the Space Corps. The other one was an officer, O-3, a Captain. They were almost twins, I thought to myself. And extremely attractive to boot.

The NCOIC looked at me and yelled, “Where the hell have you been?“

I tried to explain, exasperated. “I’m sorry Sergeant my phone died and somehow I got knocked out-“

He cut me off. “I don’t want to hear it right now. I’m frankly shocked you’d display this kind of behavior. We’re gonna have a long talk after today, I can tell you that much. Sit down and help Alvarez out. She needs it.”

“Roger Sergeant.” I said, defeated. I sat down next to Alvarez in my swivel chair as he walked up the steps to where the commander and the other higher-ups were. Sergeant Flores was at the work station in front of us tracking something else.

I asked the Space Specialist, “So what the hell happened?”

Alvarez explained, “Well after I texted you, me and Sergeant Flores started tracking one of those Chinese space flights they’ve been doing for awhile now. I know they’re just testing, but this time they went near New America. Two of them in fact. It was kind of like that thing they did last week when they overflew Armstrong, but not as bad as that time when they almost smashed into that damaged MS-1A we were monitoring.”

I asked, “Ok, so... what happened? Did they do something belligerent?”

“No,” she said, “they’ve just been sitting there doing some EVA. Sergeant Flores is still tracking them. I think they’re about to pack up and leave right now actually.”

I was confused. “Ok, then what’s the problem exactly?” I demanded to know.

She groaned, “That!”, pointing at the big screen in front of the entire room.

Depicted on it was an amorphous object. I can’t really describe it effectively. But it looked strangely familiar. It was black, resembling a cloak without a wearer maybe. I’m not sure. I was looking directly at it, but it was also as if I wasn’t at the same time. Like how things blur out in the periphery of your vision, only this was smack dab in front of me. I asked, lost for words, “What is that Al?”

She responded, “After we were able to get a fix on them Pine Gap contacted us. They wanted to know if we could check to see if there were any foreign space assets near one of their surveillance satellites that had become unresponsive. That’s when we found it. It wasn’t doing anything really, it was just sort of, near it. We gathered some basic information about its position and size as it moved on towards a commercial satellite in the vicinity. It stayed there for a while, but then it just darted out of view towards L5 without any warning.”

“Towards the Chinese?” I asked. She nodded her head. “Well, what is it then? Some PLA weapon we’ve never seen before?” I asked again.

“No, I-” She stuttered. “I-I think they’re as confused as we are. As soon as it showed up behind the construction site for the orbital settlement, they stopped doing maneuvers and started observing it. It detached... something just before you got back and one of them got out to capture it we think. But whatever split off from it seems to have disappeared somehow. I don’t know. This all very strange Sergeant.“

I looked up at the two women with the similar last names. I leaned over to whisper in Alvarez’s ear. “Who are those two?”

“They’re from Virginia, or something.” She said under her breath.

“What?” I said. I began to feel as though this was too much for a day like today.

“That’s what I said. I think maybe they’re Intel people, but I’m not sure. But the thing is they showed up with all this data on the object. It’s usual orbit trajectory, flight path history, more detailed dimensions, frequencies it operates on, tons of stuff we would have never figured out ourselves. It’s almost like they’ve been tracking it for years.”

That’s when the Captain interjected. “Talking about us kids?”

My eyes widened. “No Ma’am! I mean... I’m sorry, I forget my rank.”

She reassured me, “It’s quite alright Sergeant, I know this must be a lot to take in. I don’t blame you.” She turned to her friend next to her and said “Constance, go chat up the commander for a bit I think he feels left out. I have this handled over here.”

“Yes Ma’am.” The Color Sergeant affirmed, and walked off.

The captain sat down in an empty chair next to me, crossing her legs and planting her heels on the desk in front of us. For a second, she managed to distract me. Alright, cut me some slack. I am a guy after all. But she didn’t distract me for long. Her voice broke my concentration. “Specialist, we’re probably going to need you guys to start making some calls to get something scrambled here pretty soon.“

“Yes Ma’am, I’m sending a request out to NORAD right now.” Alvarez responded.

“Good girl.” The Captain complimented (or belittled) her. I could tell it irritated Alvarez somewhat. “Sergeant could you double check something for me?“ She asked.

“Yes Ma’am, what?“

She went on, “The commercial satellite the object interacted with earlier. Could you find out who it belongs to?“

“Roger that Ma’am.” I typed away at my keyboard, collecting the information for her. I pulled the satellite’s designation up on my screen. “ERAS-1212-0“ I said aloud. I crosschecked its name on the government’s registry of civilian-owned space assets. “It says its owned by ERAS ma’am, but it has some sort of note under its listing... let’s see... Here, it says its a broadcast satellite operated by ERAS and contracted out to a television provider.“ I lingered on those last few words. Television provider. My mind went back to what I saw earlier before. I wasn’t sure if I should tell anyone or not.

“Hmm... Thank you Sergeant.” The Captain said, and pulled out her government phone to begin texting someone on it.

Just then Sergeant Flores spoke, pointing at the screen in a panic. “Look!” The object was suddenly in front of one of the Shenlongs she had been tracking. The other Shenlong, it seemed, was running away from the situation - leaving its comrade behind.

“How the hell did it get there?“ The NCOIC said out loud. “Flores are they still doing EVA?“ He asked.

“I can’t tell Sergeant, that thing’s messing up all our sensors. I can’t even contact the other monitors we have nearby... Wait! Look what it has!” The Sergeant blew up what she was referring to on the big screen. It was a tungsten rod, used for construction of one of the orbital settlements. It wasn’t holding it, but it was as if it were orbiting the object itself, like it was its own planet or something.

The Captain stood up from her seat and started to sound a bit panicked. “Holy shit. Sir, it’s what I said before. It’s going to conduct a kinetic strike. Probably for here!”

The commander nodded at her and took control. “Alright people, it’s the fourth quarter, and this is the ten yard line with our backs to our own end-zone. Sergeant Fervek, what’s going on with NORAD?”

Alvarez butt in before I could respond. “They just got back to us Sir. There’s a couple of F-15s out of Oregon that can be ready to go in 90 minutes.”

“Not good enough, we need something in less than 60 or we aren’t gonna make it out of this alive.” He informed her.

I looked at the information NORAD had supplied us with, and interjected. “Sir, there’s a pair of Aggressors out of Nellis on TDY flying back from Miramar right now.”

“Yeah, so?” He questioned me.

“Well Sir, they’re less than 10 minutes away from Edwards at the moment. We could have them land there to be fitted with the 270s Edwards still has on hand. They could be armed and back up in the air within 40 to 50 if everything goes right.“ I explained.

He looked unsure. He gave a skeptical glance to the NCOIC. Just before he could say something back, the Captain intervened. “Sir, this sounds like the best option we have at the moment. If the information I briefed you on earlier is right then I don’t think we have a lot of time on our hands to play footsie with NORAD all day.”

He looked over the room contemplating her answer, reading all our faces. “Alright... Alright, call them up and get it going. No more screwing around with this thing.” He said with a cautioned tone in his voice.

About 60 minutes later we were ready to go. The F-15s had taken back off from Edwards, and headed towards Death Valley at supersonic speeds. An AWACS from NORAD patched in their position to us, and relayed a comm link with the flight lead. I had everything at my station ready to go. Alvarez would keep tabs on the object’s movements, while I would guide the F-15s into position and provide them with the necessary targeting information to input into the ASM-270′s ‘brain’. Captain Hayek would continue to observe and advise us from behind. I looked back at the commander for a quick second, he saw me and said “You got this Sarge. Take this bastard out.“ I nodded to him in affirmation.

I put the headset on and keyed up the comm link with the pilot. “Breaker 11. This is Bighorn Control. Do you read me?”

“Roger that son, this is Breaker 11 and 12, we’re packing heat now and ready to enter our climb.” The pilot explained.

“That’s perfect Sir. Object hasn’t moved so far, and if it stays that way we shouldn’t have to waste a second shot.“ I brought the object up on my screen, taking note of the information Alvarez had just collected on it. “Alright Breaker 11, Bighorn Control says you can initiate your climb. Please notify me when you reach angels 30.”

“Copy that Bighorn. We should be there in about 15 to 20 mikes.“ The pilot radioed back.

The wait for them to get into position was shorter than expected, but grueling all the same. We were at 75 minutes now with a gun pointed at our head. The object stayed in place, tungsten rod still circling it like a late night mugger with knife in hand. My chest was pounding, throat lumpy, head splitting open from all the stress of the situation. Finally the pilot radioed back in. “Alright Bighorn Control, angels 30. Awaiting orders.“

“That’s great news Breaker 11. Pulling the target’s orbital position up now.“ I then gave him the necessary numbers. After a small conversation between him and his wingman I could hear through the headset, he responded again.

“Alright Bighorn, Breaker 12′s telling me he’s locked and loaded.” He said.

“Alright Sir. Hit angels 32 and fire away!” I informed him.

The aircraft climbed a bit more. The sky must have been the darkest shade of blue anyone could imagine at that point, I thought to myself. The wingman screamed over the radio, “BREAKER 12, FOX 5!“ The missile detached from the centerline pylon of the aircraft, the F-15 breaking away and turning around back towards Earth as its first stage ignited. We picked the missile’s location up on our side, tracking it on the big screen. At my work station however I had more specific information about the weapon’s speed, velocity, its ultimate target, and when its first stage would separate. I looked at the clock on my computer. 1908 hrs.

Again I thought back to the events earlier that day. Something was gnawing at me again, deep in the pit of my chest. At this rate, the object should be struck before 1935. That should be good. But why do I feel like it’s not? Perhaps it’s just the stress again. I’m sure. But... God, oh God. I can’t. Something isn’t right. I can’t let this continue. I can’t let it happen before... Before. Before 1935. I looked over my shoulder at the Captain, she was acting as though she was watching the missile’s flight path on the big screen like everyone else. But I knew she was taking glances at what I was doing here and there... Why? Did.. she know? How could she know? I hovered my cursor over the control for the missile’s first stage. I typed in what I knew to be the incorrect separation point. My ring finger glided over to the enter key and stayed there. I looked back over my shoulder again. She was locking eyes with me now. I looked past her, glazing my eyes over, as though I let something inside of me take over my actions.

“Sergeant?” She questioned softly. I don’t think anyone else could hear her. “Sergeant!“ She said again, under her breath.

I pressed the enter key.

The first stage detached before the correct altitude could be reached. No matter what the second stage tried to do at this point, it would never be able to reach orbit, and was thus a failure. Everyone in the room began to scream, questioning what happened. I threw Alvarez under the bus, saying that she must have given me the wrong altitude. She looked confused, and upset that I would betray her like that. Why was I doing this? What was wrong with me? Could it really be the stress? Captain Hayek didn’t say anything, or call me out. But somehow, I think she was well aware of what I had done.

I radioed back to Breaker 11, letting him know the shot was a failure, and ordered him to turn back around in order to reach 32,000 feet again. He affirmed and proceeded, but before I could relay the targeting information to the pilot like before, Captain Hayek spoke up. “I think Specialist Alvarez should take this Sergeant. Give her your headset.”

“I...“ I didn’t know what to say.

The officer narrowed her eyes. “I said... Specialist Alvarez should take this one. Sergeant. I don’t want anyone interfering with our little game.” She said it softly but forcefully as though I were her errant child. I didn’t say anything back, and handed Alvarez my headset.

The Specialist took the reins, guiding the flight lead as I had done before. “Breaker 11 that should be it. You’re cleared to fire as soon as you hit angels 32.“

And as before, the pilot called in his shot as he reached the requested height. “BREAKER 11, FOX 5!” We could hear through the speakers in our control room. I checked the time again. It was 1929 hrs. Good. I thought to myself, though I still couldn’t figure out why. The missile detached its first stage at the correct altitude this time. As it was designed to do, the second stage ignited and boosted the weapon into the necessary velocity for the rotors to take over. The tip jets guided the Killer Umbrella towards our anomalous hostage taker. We watched on the big screen as it tracked the kill vehicle’s jaunt to the object’s position near New America. I fixated my eyes on the feed we were still receiving from the surveillance satellite that had it in view. Just what was it? I looked back at the time on my desktop. 1935 hrs. I felt relieved somehow. But again, I didn’t know why exactly. Just as I took a sigh of relief, Alvarez spoke up.

“The rod! It got rid of it!“ She screamed.

Indeed, the monster loosened whatever invisible grip it had on the piece of tungsten and it floated away back towards New America. It wasn’t threatening us any more, thank God. But we were still threatening it. “We’re not giving up this kill. That thing tried to fire at us. Continue with the trajectory Specialist.” The commander ordered.

“Yes Sir.” Alvarez responded. “Second stage kill vehicle is within range, icing tip jets. I’m going to go for a direct strike with this one. 3...2...1... Out. Tip jets deactivated. We’re still on the money, one more minute to kill.” Alvarez had obviously paid attention this morning in Counterspace Academics. I was proud of her, as was everyone else in the room. Captain Hayek beamed at her, while giving me the cold shoulder. A cold shoulder I suppose I deserved. But then everyone’s joy at Alvarez’s accomplishment quickly dissipated with what we saw happen on screen. The object... was back behind one of the hollowed out asteroids of New America. It just suddenly wasn’t where it was. The remaining Shenlong however, not so much. The missile was less than 15 seconds out now.

The commander interjected “Fire the tip jets! Reorient! Move it out of the fucking way!”

Alvarez panicked, cracking her voice “I-I can’t Sir! It’s not accepting the signal! I can’t move it! It’s going to hit!” She was beginning to tear up.

The missile impacted the underside of the Shenlong with its rotors, veering off from it and being forced by its kinetic energy into the side of one of New America‘s asteroid habitats - shattering the weapon to pieces and obliterating several facilities constructed along the front end of the settlement. Everyone stood up out of our chairs, a few wincing and others letting out desperate screams as the impact happened before their very eyes. It was over. We had failed. Whatever that thing was, had bested us. I tried to console Alvarez, but she didn’t trust me anymore and rejected any effort I made to let her know it wasn’t her fault. I looked over at Captain Hayek. She just stared at me, not saying anything, and walked away. The NCOIC grabbed me by the shoulder as I sat back down and informed me that my actions from today would likely be investigated by a third party and that I should probably start getting in contact with JAG. Not only had I sacrificed the trust my apprentice had in me, but it seems as though I sacrificed my entire career for this thing. How am I going to be able to take care of Jerry now? I thought to myself. That’s when I remembered that I had left him in the truck outside.

I got outside to check on him. It was just after dusk now. He was gone. With his broken skateboard, and my wallet. “Jerry, I’m sorry.“ I said to myself out loud, and hung my head over the open window on the passenger side. “I’m so sorry.” I heard some foot steps from behind and turned around. It was Captain Hayek and Color Sergeant Hayek-Song, exiting the building and walking towards their car. As I watched them pull out of their parking space, someone tapped me on the shoulder from behind. I turned and saw three men in plain clothes, one of them sporting an Air Force Office of Special Investigations badge.

“Hi there Sergeant. I’m Agent Williamson. These two men are with the National Scientific Intelligence Administration. They have a few questions about the day’s events. As do I.” The Agent explained.

Before I could respond, the one with balding grey hair and wearing a white dress shirt pointed at Captain Hayek’s car as it turned down the street and drove away. He said, “And if you could, I’d like to know exactly everything you saw those two do the entire time they were here. Especially those two.”

I'm a member of the President's new space force, here's what I've seen so far

[rytfujgkuhhgmjgh]

AGENT CHEYENNE

☆┋ BASIC INFORMATION.

FULL NAME: jennifer anne carter

OTHER NAME(S): agent cheyenne (codename); naomi fitzgerald (alias); jennifer naomi müller (married name)

GENDER: cis female

PRONOUNS: she/her/hers

BIRTHDATE: august 31st, 2505

NATIONALITY: martian

ETHNICITY: french-canadian

SEXUALITY: bisexual

OCCUPATION: soldier / freelancer / mechanic

☆┋ APPEARANCE.

FACE CLAIM: noomi rapace

HEIGHT: 5′4″

WEIGHT: 117 lbs

HAIR: brown / red; black (dyed)

EYES: brown

SKIN: light

BODY: short and muscular

DOMINANT HAND: right

SCARS: a few small scrapes on her hands from hard manual work; eventually a branching network of red scars on the left side of her face, near her hair and jawline

TATTOOS: a unsc insignia on her left shoulder blade; a small freelancer logo on the bottom of her neck; the word aquarius on the back of her left shoulder, and gemini on the back of her right

ARMOR: standard Mark VI armor with a Rogue helmet; gold with white accents (example)

PRIMARY WEAPON: an assault rifle; later an energy sword; eventually a modified, directed EMP beam weapon

☆┋ FAMILY.

PARENTS: antoine carter (father); helen carter (mother)

SIBLINGS: n/a

CHILDREN: n/a

NOTABLE ROMANTIC PARTNERS: rolf müller (husband)

OTHER FAMILY: n/a

☆┋ BACKGROUND.

HOMETOWN: new paris, mars

EDUCATION: master’s degree in mechanical engineering

SPOKEN LANGUAGE(S): english; french; german (conversational)

MENTAL ILLNESS(ES): ptsd

LIKES: chocolate; 

DISLIKES: failure; 

SKILLS / ABILITIES: tba

☆┋ EXTRA INFORMATION.

MORAL ALIGNMENT: chaotic good

MBTI TYPE: istp

ENNEAGRAM: type eight: the challenger

SIN: pride

VIRTUE: fortitude

ELEMENT: fire

TROPES: action survivor; always someone better; be all my sins remembered; blood from the mouth; cosmic plaything; dangerous deserter; despair event horizon; determinator; don’t you dare pity me!; final girl; heel-face revolving door; i did what i had to do; martyr without a cause; nice job breaking it, hero; no good deed goes unpunished; shock and awe; social climber; significant monogram; team killer; that woman is dead; wrench wench

PINTEREST

PLAYLIST

CHARACTER TAG

☆┋ PERSONALITY.

CORE STRENGTHS: optimistic; determined; curious; tenacious; adaptable

CORE FLAWS: selfish; self-depreciating; relentless; ruthless; proud; stubborn

I. CHILDHOOD

Before she was a freelancer, Agent Cheyenne was Jennifer Carter, the sole child of a young, Canadian born couple living on terraformed Mars, in the city of New Paris. Her father worked as a technician for a luxury starship company, specializing in dealing with the engines and exhaust pipes. Jennifer’s mother, an aspiring writer, was employed at a local newspaper and later, once her daughter was old enough to look after herself, picked up a part time job as a substitute teacher, all while working on her novel. From a young age, Jennifer knew her way around machinery. She was fascinated by puzzles, and could often be found dismantling a clock or radio—and once, infamously, her father’s tablet—to see how each item worked. After the tablet incident, her parents invested in a set of tools, as well as a robotics class.

As soon as she was old enough, Jennifer entered her designs, both robotic and mechanic, in competitions. She participated in some with her team, and others by herself. When she was fifteen, she won the Citywide Junior Prize for Robotic Engineering, and two years later, won the National Prize along with a good sum of money. Her passion and talent led to many college scholarship opportunities, and she eventually selected the Bonnie Dunbar Scholarship for Mechanical Engineering, which led her to Earth for the first time to attend the University of Houston. While she enjoyed her studies, Jennifer longed to be back home on Mars. As soon as her degree was completed, she travelled home—and it was on the shuttle back, watching a screen display news from the Outer Colonies, that she discovered her new path in life.

II. STRONG HAND

A soldier. That was what she was to become. The screen on her transport, flickering dimly, showed a group of armored soldiers rescuing civilians from a burning building. Jennifer wanted to be one of them. She knew she could never be a SPARTAN—those were trained in infancy—so she settled for the next best thing. She enrolled in a military academy and set about making a name for herself. The training was grueling, the instructors intense, and the food less than stellar, but she made it through, eventually. During her time in the academy, she lingered around the motor pool, where she fixed up several vehicles, as well as adding prototypes onto them.

When she went out into the field at the age of twenty seven, she was Private First Class Jennifer Carter, eager and more than a little naive. Six years later, when Project Freelancer recruited her, she was Corporal Jennifer Carter, tempered and impulsive, but still retaining her optimism. She’d gained renown for her engineering skills and quick thinking—she could dissemble and reassemble a gun faster than anyone else in her squad, and still have time left over to make her own personal modifications to it. The project came to her for this reason—to take into their ranks a skilled engineer, and she was all too happy to comply.

III. KEEP YOU ON MY SIDE

She was rechristened as Agent Cheyenne and given a new suit of armor. Her old family was left behind, and her new one was… interesting. She was placed on Team Delta, and paired with A.I. Unit Taurus, also called Tara, who already held a grudge against newcomers. Cheyenne’s impatience with Tara only made their relationship worse. But still, they managed, somehow, to work together in the field. They hated each other, but that didn’t keep them from leaving the other one to die. However, her position on the leaderboard began to slip. Ah, the leaderboard. She’d kept her place at a strong number eight for a long time, but the implantation of Tara and their subsequent inability to work together made her rank fall. Her remarks to the Director were met with only cold indifference. She’s your responsibility, Agent Cheyenne. I cannot fathom that you’d have the audacity to blame your ineffectiveness on me.

So she worked harder, trained harder, and all the while kept her falling position on the leaderboard in the back of her mind. During this time, she grew close to a few of her fellow agents, most notably Agent Charleston, whom she gradually began to think of as a younger brother of sorts. In general, she was friendly to her fellow agents and A.I. Units, despite being suspicious of the latter at first. She had a short romantic encounter with Agent Denver, and intended to follow up on that front, before outside circumstances intervened.

IV. BY THE THROAT

Those outside circumstances came in the form of a Covenant attack on the ship Equinox, the project’s main base of operations. The enemy cut most of the power to the ship, leaving only the most minimal life support systems uncorrupted. As an engineer, Cheyenne felt it was her duty to restart the ship, and rushed down to the maintenance levels, killing the opposition when she encountered it. Once in the engine room, she located the ship’s circuit board, and restarted it with the help of her armor enhancement, an EMP. But unbeknownst to her, a rogue electrical pulse, implanted either by the enemy or by the presence of an artifact called the Sarcophagus, disrupted her field. Cheyenne’s EMP killed two Artificial Units, Gemini (Gem) and Aquarius (Acadia), while they were still connected to their agents, Olympia and Denver, respectively.

Repercussions came swiftly and without mercy. While Cheyenne had saved the entire ship, she had done it at the cost of two lives—two lives that the Director had held in high esteem, considering that he had created the A.I. Units. Tara was reassigned to Denver, and Cheyenne’s hopes of ever getting back onto the leaderboard or into the Director’s good graces were dashed. Her behavior became more erratic, more self-destructive, and on two occasions she got into fights with her colleagues.

V. BURY IT

And just when she felt as though she couldn’t take the guilt anymore, the project was suspended. Something about investigation of improper use of government property and violation of laws and regulations. Cheyenne didn’t care. All she wanted was out—and for once, she got what she wished for. They were all sent home—A.I. with their agents—while the mess was sorted out. But Cheyenne did not go home. How could she face her family after everything she’d done? No, she ran—took a transport to a remote colony called Rhetza, dyed her hair black, took on an alias, and set up shop as their mechanic. She lived there for three years, working on a prototype modification of her EMP enhancement and avoiding any questions about her past. She kept tabs on the status of Project Freelancer, but after a while she let it fade into the backdrop of memories too painful to think of willingly.

Until three UNSC officials showed up on her doorstep and called her by her birth name. Corporal Jennifer Carter. She hadn’t heard it in so long. Jennifer Carter was someone else, someone who had died long ago, somewhere in the heat and sweat and gunfire of battle. But somehow, they’d found her, even after all this time. And they came with a message.

You’ve been reinstated. Suit up. We’re back.

VI. AFTERGLOW

tba.