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shirlleycoyle · 3 years

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Before TikTok, Witches Traded Their Spells on This Ancient Internet Forum

Long before the witches of Gen-Z claimed TikTok as their digital coven, and even before the Geocities-scattered digital landscapes of Web 1.0, a thousands-strong community once formed via the world’s phone lines to trade spells, advise on sigils, and correspond on spiritual guidance. It was called the Pagan And Occult Distribution Network, or PODSnet: a slice of occult internet history that helped pioneer mass online collaboration.

Today, it’s easy to take for granted that online communities are only a few taps away, but in the 1980s and early 1990s, finding like-minded individuals in niche subject areas was practically revolutionary. And in the case of PODSnet, it provided an unusually free space to discuss the esoteric arts—for many of its members, for the first time ever.

"In the 1990s and 1990s, accessing the social media of the day was very different than it is today,” Farrell McGovern, a PODSnet cofounder who came to Paganism through books about quantum physics such as The Dancing Wu Li Masters, told Motherboard. “It was louder, slower, and connectivity was perilous.”

In the early 1980s, computing enthusiasts began using Bulletin Board Systems (BBS) to communicate with each other. These systems were a precursor to the World Wide Web, and although relatively primitive, paved the way for the always-on communication of today.

Because BBS ran on phone lines, discussions were asynchronous and often confined to local groups due to the dramatic costs of dialing farther afield than your own state. What’s more, the boards were isolated from one another: an analogy might be if every single subreddit needed its own website, and you could only speak to users in your immediate area.

But in 1984, artist and technician Tom Jennings created FidoNet, a network that could connect all of these BBS systems. With the advent of cheaper modems, FidoNet’s popularity exploded into a huge 20,000-node network that connected users all around the world. Eventually, something called Echomail was introduced by a system operator, or sysop, called Jeff Rush, allowing for the support of public forums.

Instead of simply picking up your smartphone, BBS users would have to connect their computer to a modem, which was linked to a phone line—translating digital 1s and 0s into audio information and back again to the modem and terminal operating the BBS.

Popular BBSes would frequently return a busy signal: unlike today, actually logging off was necessary because only one connection was allowed at a time. A successful login returned a screen of text and a list of messages grouped into categories, with the software tracking the ones you had read. Here, users would respond to text, download what they could, and hang up.

Here, a BBS called "Magicknet" flourished, but one problem in particular spurred its users to found their own splinter network: Christian fundamentalists had infiltrated the group to spy on members.

This infiltration led to a number of incidents, including McGovern being written up in the magazine of infamous cult figure Lyndon Larouche as a “well-known witch from Toronto”. Given the various tabloid-led "Satanic panics" at the time, founding an independent BBS was not only right for promoting lively metaphysical discourse, it was a matter of safety too.

“People were losing their jobs, child custody, etc,” McGovern told Motherboard. “People had to move to escape persecution in some areas: very much so in the Bible Belt, but in other places, too. Unless you were in a major metropolitan area, and even then, you ran some degree of risk if you were outed.”

McGovern was first involved in his local BBS scene around Ottawa in the mid-1980s. Working at a local computer store that sold Apple and IBM PC clones, McGovern set up the Data/Sfnet BBS to advertise the business. In doing so, he became a SysOp—a system operator who ran, maintained, and in many cases built a network—granting him honorary entry to the computing elite at the time.

Being based in Canada, McGovern was the first to help Magicknet go international before it split into PODSnet, which would swell to 10,000 members who accessed the BBS by dialling into the 93 "zone number"—a reference to Thelema, the spiritual movement developed by Aleister Crowley.

The logo of the PODSnet bulletin board system.

For author and occult store supplier Dorothy Morrison, who was raised Catholic but eventually joined a coven of practicing witches in California before forming one of her own, discovering PODSnet was an “incredible way to find so many people of like mind at one place”.

“It was a place where I could be myself, regardless of the fact I really was living in a very conservative, buttoned-down state,” Morrison told Motherboard. “It wasn’t just a safe haven for me, it was an escape from having to appear to be someone I wasn’t for safety reasons."

“When someone wants to burn you at the stake—at that time Missouri was not a place that would’ve taken kindly to Witches—you certainly don’t tell them where you keep the gas can,” she said.

The atmosphere on PODSnet was typically collaborative and friendly, said Morrison, and the most arresting dramas on the board she was aware of usually related to the enormous phone bills that came from connecting to the network. (Although once or twice these charges “damned near landed some folks in divorce court.")

But, like the internet today, there were hints of gossip, rumours, and fake news. One popular cause for the community was the supposed persecution of 9 million witches by Christians (The whole idea was based on bad scholarship, according to McGovern). At one point, there was a six-year-long debate on whether or not Kate Bush is Wiccan—perhaps one of the most heated internet disputes of its time.

Whatever the topic, much of these PODSnet discussions would have been lost to time were it not for a community effort to archive the cherished message board. Still accessible in its archived ASCII form today, PODSnetters worked together to produce what was perhaps the first mass collaborative online project of its type: a massive, crowdsourced digital grimoire called the Internet Book of Shadows.

The name of the enormous seven-volume text references the catch-all "Book of Shadows," a name commonly used for tomes of spells and rituals, and the text covers the A-Zs of alternative spirituality from "Asatru to Zen Buddhism." Chapter one alone is 70,000 words long, and there’s a varied store of stuff available within, including an essay about bashing fluffy bunnies (the tendency among some well-seasoned practitioners to troll newbies, as opposed to bashing actual rabbits), a guide to cleansing rituals called "smudging," and an introduction to the suppressed traditions of Gnosticism.

Plenty of contributors to the Book of Shadows remain involved in esoteric spiritual communities today, and some, like Morrison, became authors in their own right.

One of Dorothy Morrison’s favorite contributions to the Internet Book of Shadows.

Morrison says the book of rituals, spells, stories, legends, and “other magic-related miscellany” took seven 5-inch loose-leaf binders to contain it when she once decided to print out the information the community had amassed. The community then began compiling the grimoire into downloadable digital files.

Once it was finished, PODSnet users agreed to offer the Book of Shadows as a gift, free of charge, to the community. While they were copyrighted, they were free to use and copy under the proviso that there was no charge for their acquisition—leading to later frustrations about unauthorized reproductions of the manuscript for profit.

“It’s probably the largest collection of pagan thought that was freely available to copy for non-commercial use,” McGovern added.

According to Dan Harms, an author and librarian at SUNY Cortland, magick practice has thrived on community-produced documents throughout history. Even during the print era, there was a “tremendous sort of traffic in books, manuscripts being passed back and forth between people,” chopping and changing aspects of the manuscripts they liked before copying them out.

“What was really different here, is that when the material was copied or created, it’s put up online for everybody to see,” Harms said. “It becomes a collective memory. It’s not something that’s stuck on somebody’s shelf, it’s something everybody can get into.”

Harms told Motherboard that communities like PODSnet were of enormous importance for establishing networks of occult practitioners and helped lay the groundwork for driving a boom in occult publishing.

“I was growing up in rural Kentucky with an interest in these kinds of arcane topics,” said Harms, who wasn't involved in the occult internet at the time of PODSnet but was an active Usenet user. “It was just so hard to find any sort of information – you would have to rely on the local library. But the local library in rural Kentucky is probably not looking to fill up its shelves with books about magic and paganism and things like that.”

Today, what was once a recondite pocket of the primordial internet has hit the mainstream, with even the Financial Times covering the "WitchTok" phenomenon. Speaking with PODSnetters, there’s a sense that in today's online spaces, community and information exchange can often take a backseat to clout and hostility. “[But] how much of that is getting older and yelling ‘get off my grass’,” asks McGovern, “or true insight – only time will say.”

Whatever the case, PODSnet—which closed around the turn of the millennium before hopping to Yahoo Groups, LiveJournal, and now with its remnants on Facebook—proved that digital technologies can bring disparate people together in a meaningful way, where they are happy to create and produce for the good of their communities.

“I remember those I met along that journey, what they taught me—not only about the Craft, but about myself—and the connections I made," said Morrison.“I remember how fortunate I was that PODSnet was there for me. To a large degree, that experience formed the person I am today, and I'll be forever grateful.”

Before TikTok, Witches Traded Their Spells on This Ancient Internet Forum syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

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squarecarousel · 4 years

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Interview with Caitlin Alexander

Well folks, we're nearly at the end of our Square Carousel journey, and there are just two interviews left – both with two of our longest-standing members! Today, we reconnect with Caitlin Alexander, who has been with the Square Carousel Collective from its very beginning almost 10 years ago. Although we've featured an interview with her here in the past, it's been so long that we are due for an update! When she's not freelancing or performing her duties as an SC admin extraordinaire, Caitlin works tirelessly on her craft, creating prints, products, hand lettered posters, and artwork that embrace the earthy beauty of nature. With a strong focus on environmentalism and a sense of community, her artwork exudes a warmth and complexity that draws the viewer in and invites them to stay a while. Read on for her gems of wisdom!

Make Earth Cool Again

Q: Comparing your early work from your first few years after college to your most recent pieces, you've kept a lot of the textural, playful essence of your style while refining certain elements. Has your process changed much since those early days, and if so, what do you now do differently?

A: Such a great question straight out of the gate! My process has changed quite a bit since I graduated in 2011 (almost a decade ago... yikes!). In college, part of my crafted identity as a brand-new illustrator was my traditional use of gouache paint. I actually, in all honestly, was kind of a snob about it, because so many people in our department worked solely digitally. I felt that digital painting was a crutch, which I suppose can be true in some cases, and possibly even more-so when you're applying that to college students, but I certainly had no ground to stand on. In reality, my snobbery kept me from learning critical tools, as I never took Photoshop or Illustrator classes, aside from the one that was required for graduation. This hindered my work a great deal outside of college, given that illustration is so often paired with graphic design, and editing work for clients was so much more difficult traditionally. In 2013, I got a job designing t-shirts, and lied to the company, saying I knew how to use Illustrator. Luckily it was remote, so I was able to teach myself without anyone hovering over me, but that was so foolish, looking back, given the expensive education I got at SCAD should have been my opportunity to learn those things. I introduced digital work more and more over the years, and by 2016 or so, I was primarily a digital artist. Gouache will always have a place in my heart, and I will still break out the tubes occasionally, but working digitally has allowed me to grow so much more as an illustrator, with the ability to edit, paint with more detail, and having more control over color and layering.

Q: Of all the projects you've done in your professional career, which would you say is closest to your heart?

A: Probably the picture book I worked on a couple of years ago, titled "Cool For You." I had a lot of creative freedom for that project, and the subject matter of climate change is personally very important to me. Working with the author, Marianna, was really wonderful, as well.

Cool For You book cover

Q: The Southwest influence on your work is pretty significant, and I think it's safe to assume you appreciate the majesty of the landscape in your region of the country. However, if you had to live in another state, which would you choose and why?

A: Funny you ask that, because I've actually considered moving from Texas to Colorado lately! The culture there is still very western, but I appreciate the liberal point of view (Texas has been grating on me lately, even living in Austin), and the landscape is even more stunning out there! I'd be close to so many inspiring National Parks. Plus, summers wouldn't be 8 months of the year and over 100 degrees for half of it!

Travel West postcard (1 of 6)

Q: TV shows or movies?

A: Lately, Jordan and I have been watching New Girl on repeat. I'm not usually one to watch a show or movie over and over again, but I think we really just needed something light and fun, since life has been so very stressful over the last year.

Q: What's your favorite subject to draw?

A: This one is hard! I'm torn between people and landscapes. People are more fun and comfortable for me, and I could knock out a bunch of them quickly. Landscapes are always intimidating, and I'm nervous the whole time, feeling like I can't remember how I did it the time before. It's so strange, because it always ends up fine! But since I feel that way, the payoff is so much greater when I feel satisfied with the final result.

Q: What would a perfect day look like for you? A: I probably would have answered this totally differently pre-COVID, but in this current world we live in, I would absolutely love to have what used to be a normal, uneventful weekend day for me: Jordan and I would sleep in a little, see an early afternoon movie at the Alamo Drafthouse where we'd eat lunch, then spend the rest of the afternoon browsing used book stores and estate sales, and then meet our friends at the neighborhood coffeehouse for dinner and Trivia Night. I will be so happy to have that again.

Cover art for East Side Magazine

Book Lover Ladies series- The Book Clubbers

Q: What have you learned from your years at Square Carousel, whether organizing behind the scenes or as a contributor?

A: Oooof!! So SO many things! Wow... well, I'll go with the most obvious first: as a member, I learned how to continue to make portfolio-worthy work, even without jobs coming in. That was definitely the most valuable thing about Square Carousel, in my opinion, and hopefully what everyone else got out of it, as well. It can be so hard for fresh graduates to keep up that momentum, and the group saved many of us from becoming stagnant. In terms of running the group... it's been rewarding, but honestly very difficult throughout the years. There have been many ups and downs, and finding the right balance between structure and patience can be extremely challenging. I'm super proud of Elizabeth and myself (OG members!) for keeping it running through the messes-- we've been through some shit together! My major takeaway is the importance of diligence. Projects, businesses, organizations-- they all need at least a couple of people who just keep chugging along, always maintaining the structure (schedule and accountability) and balance (rules and lighthearted encouragement).

Moth magnets

Q: As the readers are aware, Square Carousel drawing to a close soon. Do you have any plans for what you'll do with the extra time you'll have after our tri-weekly challenges end?

A: You know, I actually haven't thought about this too much yet. It's probably because I'll just fill it with more self-imposed projects and deadlines, since I was able to bring that skill I learned in Square Carousel into the rest of my career a while ago. (Or more real jobs! That would be ideal!) I'll miss the community though, and hope to find a way to keep that aspect of freelance life alive. Instagram friends, anyone?

Q: What's your quirkiest habit?

A: Jordan told me recently that he found it weird and endearing that I joke-sing to my cats in the kitchen about really stupid stuff... so probably that! Official Cat Lady© status achieved.

Caitlin and Buster Keaton the Kitten

Q: What advice would you give to a newbie illustrator just starting out today?

A: I'd give them the hard advice that our professors didn't really give us in school: there is no way this is going to work out for you if you're not incredibly committed to pursuing it. Now, don't get me wrong-- I'm not telling anyone to have an unhealthy work/life balance because I think that's a toxic sentiment. But you have to keep illustrating and illustrating and illustrating, and arguably more importantly, keep networking and networking and networking. You're going to be rejected or ghosted more often than not, but if you really want it to work out, you're going to keep doing it anyway. And taking critiques if industry folks offer them, to grow and become better. Don't become stagnant in those critical building years.

Caitlin’s studio

Q: Anything else you would like the readers to know?

A: Yes – thank you so much for supporting Square Carousel through our amazing ten years of challenges! We really appreciate everyone who has kept up with us, checking out the illustrations for each prompt and reading our posts and interviews. Y'all are wonderful, and we hope you'll continue to find us, wherever each of us fly from here! And on that sweet note, we say goodbye for now! Check out Caitlin’s website for more, and follow her on Instagram for new art when it drops.

Join us next time for our final interview!

#interview #caitlin alexander #illustrator #interviews #square Carousel #gouache #digital artist #artists on tumblr #artist interview #cba illustration

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stuckinapatriarchalbullshitland · 5 years

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Camren/Shonmila Parallels.... and TMZ

I was going to leave this post for tomorrow because I was too entertaining talking about it with my mutuals but I couldn't wait to wait and got out of bed to write about it. I will start by saying that it is an old theme in itself, but still valid considering the great Shonmila circus that we have had to endure. I think that those who follow my blog know that I have spent almost all my afternoon / night talking about the blind items related to Shawn Mendes and that one of those items had to do with a blackmail that threatened the singer with exposing his homosexuality:

(Thanks buddy @alewolf77 for tagged me in your post about this subject) This is important with this post because this Shonmila circus apparently began to be more direct due to this blackmail. This type of info is usually real and sooner or later it comes to light that all or most of what those items say end up being true. And I believe them. And I also believe that the dirty industry uses these blackmails to their advantage. They are the way the labels and management have to keep the artists under their control. And with the girls it was no different and even today I don't think it's different either. And the portal of TMZ shows that worked for the industry also knew it when it threatened to filter a complete dossier on them:

THE RECORDER HAS A CONTRACT WITH TMZ BECAUSE THEY HAVE CONTENT CAMREN (thanks for the info Douglas) TMZ has the whole dossier of Lauren and Camila and all of this is controlled by Roger, Roger doesn't want anything leaked and invests well, so much so that TMz hasn't leaked anything so far. And the source showed an email from TMZ to the girl's Management. I don't know if is true, but i personally believe in this (This was part of what a post in Portuguese)

This is supposedly a document related to a non-disclosure contract between the people of TMZ and Roger Gold where it is assumed that Roger had to buy the compromising photos that exposed the girls being together and in 2014 they also appeared smoking weed. It wouldn't be a big scandal now but at that time Camila was still a minor. This incident in the pictures reminds me of Bad Things and the MKG verse that talks about the couple smoking weed. It is assumed that blackmail was avoided by Roger and the girls were never exposed. Now think about the Shonmila show:

(The main question here is: Why they hide Camren and Shonmila is so exposed?)

And keep in mind this video that is also in Portuguese:

youtube

Camren TMZ theory.

It all started when a girl said she had a friend who had contacts at TMZ. That was about 4 months ago. He told me that in 2014 TMZ had photos of Camren, but they negotiated with the label and so these photos were not published. This year (in 2016) came up new Camren photos that TMZ tried to buy, but the label was negotiating along. These alleged photos were from August 2 and 3 in Brooklyn NY. The photos from day 2 are of a restaurant where they went to dinner together and it looks like they kissed. The photos from day 3 are from the hotel pool where there are "hot" moments. He also said that Camila's anxiety attacks are because of the pressure the label was putting on these photos. Both Camila and Lauren want to take over, but the label and the contracts don't let it. He said they would not take over, but would make it explicit to the public. He said that even in September and we have actually seen more Camren moments. He gave me some information he got from people inside the label, Camila is already closing to pursue a solo career, bad things is for Lauren and will have a music video. Normani is also negotiating to pursue a solo career. Lauren and Camila's families are fighting for Camila to stay longer in the band before leaving the group. Lauren has no projects submitted. Recalling that all this was said in September when no one imagined that Camila would leave Fifth Harmony. In my opinion, yes, this theory of TMZ is true. It is a matter of linking the facts. Just over a month ago Lauren's mother stopped following the entire Cabello family for no reason and shortly after Camila left the group.

(Curiously, Normani was the second one who started her solo career after Camila went soloist)

(Thanks buddy @harmonyshield for the translation) See the difference now? Both couples Camila / Lauren - Camila / Shawn were involved in the same situations, the same scenarios but with a different result. With Camren everything was hidden, the girls fought hard to keep their relationship private and I am sure that at the time Epic and Maverick used the dossier theme with the photos in their favor to threaten them. With Shonmila it is a similar situation except that Shonmila is a PR circus to cover a blackmail done to Shawn that compromised her sexuality and privacy. Camren was / is real and has to remain hidden therefore the girls, in this case Camila needs a PR. Shawn has his own private life to keep that way, therefore he also needs a PR to cover everything that needs to be covered. With all this, my point is that the only people with the right to expose their relationships and / or private life are the artists themselves, Camila / Lauren / Shawn. No one but them. Not a label, not a management, not a show / paparazzi portal, not fans. Not even friends or family close to the artists. It is the artists themselves who have to do that in their own way and at their own time if they have made the decision to expose themselves and remain private if they have decided otherwise. I, like Camren shipper, want a real confirmation about whether the girls are together right now or not, (to Although we have this confirmation half thanks to Camila at the AMA's) but as I mentioned before, I am not very much in favor of them dating as a couple and exposing themselves to so much hate circulating on social networks. So no. I am in favor of you singing about your relationship and telling us your story that way, but beyond that not. Having a fake circus Shonmila no, thanks. I think that the more private a relationship between two artists is, the more real it is and if they finally decide to share something with their fans that they do it in their own way. Not forced by blackmail or afraid to ruin their respective careers but because they want to and both parties agree. Another thing I believe about the contract with TMZ is because in fact EL talked about it.

This picture talked about the Camren ring and @harmonyshield mentioned me about the same. I don’t know if this had something to do with those pictures but it was something very surprised for me.

Draws your conclusions, folks...

#camren #camz and lolo #EL #TMZ #camren/shonmila parallels... and TMZ #blind items #camren rings #camila cabello #lauren jauregui #old new stuff #long ass post

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

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Going through some old pages on the wiki I keep for my projects (can not more highly recommend building a private wiki site for yourself if you’re a writer with a ton of different or extensive projects. Soooo helpful at keeping me organized).

Anyway, came across this old short story I wrote set in the days of the Holy Wars from the Citadel ‘verse I was talking about a couple weeks ago, that was the original setting for what became By Lost Ways. Tossing it out there in case anyone wants a read. Its fairly short and is a glimpse at the future gods of Night and Day from that ‘verse, Adana and Reyus. *Shrugs*

Even Heaven Can Break

“God is dead.” Nerrick sighed and pulled off his glasses, mopping at them again with his now wrinkled shirt front. It wasn’t as though he held any great hopes that clearer vision might give him any further insight into the utterly inscrutable - and likely insane - young woman sitting across the table from him. He‘d already tested that theory and found it lacking. It simply gave him something to do. An ever so slight distraction from the roundabout circles they‘d been engaged in since - what was it now? Some six hours past?

“Yes,” he heaved, long past the point of trying to disguise his weariness. “You’ve said as much, multiple times. I don’t suppose you’d care to elaborate?” The girl - and she was nothing more than a girl, no matter what foolish superstitions she’d inspired amongst the lower classes - smiled again that same enigmatic smile that half made him wish he was a man more inclined to act on violent urges.

“God is dead,” she repeated with a small, careless shrug. “It seems a fairly straightforward statement of fact. I’m confused as to what more you expect me to say on the matter, Sir Magistrate.” His back molars ground together audibly. His patience maintained only by the constant vigilance of his temper. Nerrick reminded himself, not for the first time that morning, that he was a man noted for his restraint, his even temperament and unemotional dedication to justice. He was not about to be bested in a contest of wills by some ignorant, backwoods child, in his own prison.

The small dank room stank of mildew and rot, not to say anything of the havoc the dim torchlight was wreaking upon his fragile eyesight. Only his own personal ethics kept him from abandoning the girl to a more permanent exile in the deeper catacombs, an option that grew more appealing by the moment.

But as long as the possibility remained that she was merely repeating some heretical pagan belief, unaware of the repercussions her words had upon more civilized folk, he could not in good conscience treat her as just another rabble-rouser. Or, the Citadel guard against, condemn her to a space in the asylums, no matter how mad she seemed. Sitting comfortably three levels below the surface of the great granite and steel prison as though she were some grand lady awaiting tea in her parlor. . “Perhaps you speak of another god unknown to me,” Nerrick conceded gracefully. The wooden chair, almost entirely rotted through, creaked ominously beneath him as he shifted his weight, but God above, even his ass was falling asleep. Still she remained poised, back ramrod straight and never shifting those dark, pupil-less eyes from his. He was a man of reason and science and knew the unnerving Berut eyes to be nothing more than an unfortunate physical trait of her people, but it was easy enough to see how they’d gained their reputation for witchcraft and beguilement. Only the sternest of wills kept his gaze locked with hers. “I admit to being unfamiliar with all the customs of your people, and perhaps we speak of two entirely separate entities. The God of my people is eternal. He created everything we know, and much else besides, and He will endure when all else has turned to dust. He can not die.” “No.” Still she smiled. “There is only one God. In this, my people believe much the same as you. But you speak of faith, things that you can not know but believe to be true. I speak of fact. God is dead. This I know.” He tried reason. “God is the creator of all, and has no peer. If you admit this to be true yourself, then how can God possibly die?” She shrugged again. “Perhaps he willed himself to die. One can imagine eternity might grow tiresome after a time.” Nerrick could almost agree with that sentiment, as for a moment, he entertained the blasphemous thought that even God could be moved to suicide after sufficient time spent with this wretched creature. He dispelled such thoughts with a shake of his head - down that road lay this girl’s particular stamp of madness, no doubt. He tried another tack. “God created the universe. If He is gone, how is it that we are not? Shouldn’t the creation end with the creator?” “Perhaps it is ending, and it just hasn’t finished yet. We can hardly expect the universe to work on the same timetable as ourselves.”

“Tell me then,” he finally indulged her. “What makes you so certain God is dead?” “I saw him.” He sketched disbelief with an aged ashen brow. “You saw God.” “We seem to find a language barrier between us again, Sir Magistrate. Is my Erudi not accomplished enough for our conversation? Among my people, I’m considered quite proficient in your tongue, but perhaps I’ve been misled.” Nerrick flushed. Her Erudi was quite fine - more than, in fact, if a bit stilted. Another minor detail that bothered him, though he could not say why. How did such a young representative of an infamously uneducated people come to speak his tongue with the skill of the most lettered gentry? He cleared his throat uncomfortably. “How do you know that the man you saw was God?” “Wouldn’t you know God if you saw him?” “God is above humanity,” he rasped impatiently. “He doesn’t appear in human form. Should we see him, we’d hardly be capable of comprehending his glory.” Her lips moved in what he imagined to be an expression of pity. It was impossible to be sure, the way her eyes resisted any attempt to read emotion in them. They quivered like liquid night, reflecting the faint torchlight as unsteady flames alit on twin seas of oil. “You speak again of what you believe, because you have never known otherwise. I have known otherwise, and speak again of what I know.” “Enough!” His hand cracked down on the wooden table top, spearing his palm with splinters. His reddened face, already contorted in rage, barely registered the pain. Her face registered nothing at all - just the same painted mask of gentle amusement she’d worn since first escorted down here in the company of his guards. And it was a mask, he was sure of it now. She was too clever with her words to be either ignorant or insane. Whatever game she played at, he wanted no further part in it. “I have no more patience to waste indulging your heresy, and I refuse to subject more of my city’s people to it. You’ve caused nothing but disruption since you first arrived, inciting riots and restlessness among the lower classes, using their faith in service to your own twisted agenda, whatsoever that may be, and it ends here, girl.” She remained unmoved. A pale statue in a plain white dress, inky black curls spilling down both shoulders like curtains cut from the same cloth as those damnable eyes. Her lips twitched. “You may call me Adana.” Nerrick froze, save for where his chest heaved like the billows of a forge, grasping greedily at air to feed his exertions. The tinglings up and down his spine were more than just pinched nerves from too long sitting in one position. This girl, with her damn eyes and impenetrable nerves and heretical talk was more than just some insolent brat from the savage lands north of the city. He was no longer completely convinced there was nothing to the stories and legends of Berutian bewitchery. But those eyes held him now, and he didn’t think he could look away even if he willed it. “You resist giving me your name for these past several hours, and now offer it freely, without me even asking. Why?” “It no longer matters,” Adana told him, heaving a sigh of her own for the first time all morning. Nerrick almost felt that there was regret in that sigh, but her painted mask hid that as well as any other emotion, were it there at all. “For what it’s worth, it was never my aim to disrupt the peace of your city. Call it an unfortunate symptom…nothing more, nothing less.” “Then why?” “Everything you know is about to change,” she said gently. “Well, not for you, I suppose, but for them. They needed to know. It’s time for man to take charge of his own destiny, not spend the coming days huddled in shrines chanting desperate prayers to a deity dead and gone. They won‘t listen, not nearly enough of them at any rate, but some maybe.” Why not for me, Nerrick wondered, but instead he merely asked, “Why now? Why do you tell me all this now, when before it was just a game to you?” Adana laughed, a low throaty chuckle laced again with that hint of pity. “It no longer matters,” she said again. “You want to be here,” Nerrick intuited suddenly. “You evaded the guards for over a week, and then when they arrested you today, you hardly resisted. Like you wanted to go with them. Why? Why now, why here? What is it you want?” “To wait. Here with you.” And then, before he could ask for what, she continued. “There’s a mountain two day’s journey north of here by horseback. My people call it the Degatoi. Yours call it the Foothill, I believe. They say that’s where the Citadel rests, where God makes his home.” “That’s just a myth,” he frowned. “God doesn’t dwell amongst his creations, the Citadel exists in a realm untouchable by our own.” “Some myths are make believe. Others are facts that have since been forgotten. I believed it to be fact, as do my people. So I journeyed there, a pilgrimage of sorts. My…reasons are my own.” “And did you find the Citadel?” “No, it wasn’t there anymore. It moved. It does that, you know.” “Of course,” Nerrick snorted. “Why wouldn’t it?” “Why indeed,” Adana smile wryly. She smoothed her dress in her lap. “I did however, find God. He was lying at the base of the peak. Roughly your height, wearing unfamiliar clothes, though I suppose that’s only to be expected. His hair was strange, almost feathery, and he looked like no man I’d ever seen before. He was dead. And I looked into his wide, staring eyes and in them beheld the Abyss. And I knew then that he was God, and knew all the mysteries and secrets of the Universe that he’d known then at the last. My people can do that, you see.” Nerrick nodded, numbly. He had heard that, any schoolchild knew that myth of the Berut people, the legend that kept even the greatest sorcerers of the South from their doorstep lest it turn out to be true. They could see into a man’s soul with those strange eyes of theirs, see all the way into them into their deepest, darkest reaches and pull out every twisted secret and hidden truth for accounting. It was the kind of legend he’d always held up to be nonsense, but now, staring into those eyes of myth and reckoning, he knew it to be true. Knew all of it to be true.

He started to tremble, sweat dotting his brow, tracing salty rivers down the cracked parchment of his skin. The torchlight grew fainter and fainter and the air was dryer and thinner, harder to grasp at. Black flecks spotted his vision, and he took off his glasses again. Wiped them, though he suspected the problem was his eyes, not the spectacles. He’d heard these were all symptoms of a heart-death, but it was hard to worry about such things now. He had to know, had to wonder instead, what kind of things might one see in the eyes of a dead God? What kind of things might one know? “The same things we all know at the end,” Adana said softly. She looked at him in the rapidly regressing torchlight and he knew with the same certainty he knew everything now, that yes, her eyes held pity. For him. “You feel it now, don’t you? When it’s so close, that no reason, no logic, none of the games we play to convince ourselves we don’t know the things our soul senses - that little piece in each of us that’s the smallest sliver of divinity linking us to the rest of the universe - none of them can hide it anymore.” Nerrick shivered and licked chapped paper-dry lips. His voice came out a croak. “Why are you here?” “To wait.” “For what?” “The end.” And then, “I’m sorry.” The earth split with a roar, but to Nerrick, all seemed silent. He leapt back, knocking over his chair with a hoarse shout his ears could never possibly hear over the sound of walls crashing down, thunderous echoes reverberating throughout the small chamber. The stained slate floor rent with a crack right through the center of the room, and he stumbled, tried to right himself, stumbled again as the earth shook and danced and trembled like a living thing, like a puppet whose strings had been cut. Dust stormed the air in gray, ominous clouds that twisted into his lungs with every breath he took. The sound and fury buffeted him on all sides, splinters and shards of broken rock bombarding his skin. Pricking, ripping, tearing and gouging.

His glasses cracked and fell, but before he the torches finally failed, he could still blurrily see the girl, Adana, seated serenely on the other side of the table, riding out the madness with perfect poise and watching him with those damned eyes. He fell himself finally and the ceiling split, raining clouds of dust and slate and broken rafters. One struck him full in the chest, pinning him to the floor. He felt ribs break, felt his terrified screams silenced by a shard of wood spearing him through one lung, all his breath going to granting him a few last gasps of air. Adana’s face filled his blurred vision then. In all the din, there was no chance of hearing her get up from the table and walk over to his side, but then there she was kneeling over him. She looked deep into his eyes. “You see? We all know things, even if we don’t know we know them,” she told him gently. “It’s because we’re all a little bit of God. Or maybe the Universe. Creation. I’m still figuring out where the line separating one from the other begins and ends. You were special, Sir Magistrate. Even if you didn’t know it. Take whatever comfort from that you can.” “Go with God.” Then her hand covered his mouth and nose, and she looked into his wide, staring eyes and beheld in them the Abyss, and all the secrets and mysteries of the Universe he had known at the end. ************* Adana rose with some difficulty, and drew the magistrate’s keys from his belt. She smoothed her dress - it would never be white again, she feared - and made her way to the door over a floor that still quivered and rattled, but only restlessly now. Much of its temper had been spent. The hallway beyond was relatively untouched. She quirked dry lips at divine providence, but perhaps it was more accurate to say she enjoyed the favor of the Universe at the moment. The torches were all spent and broken, save for where one had fallen upon the corpse of one guardsman and set his skin and hair aflame, lighting the gray hall fitfully with its macabre light. It was more than enough to see by. At least, more than enough for her eyes. She stepped over another body and ascended the small, tight stairwell at the end of the hall gracefully. Less so, when she almost ran into the blond, dirtied youth who came clattering down the stairs in the opposite direction. He reared back, startled, and she saw that she’d been accurate in her assessment: he was probably no younger than she herself, but his youth shone from his eyes and the sprightly smile that sprang to his face. She recognized him as one of the city-folk always to be found at her gatherings, listening intently to her words. Reyus, she thought his name was. She smiled. “Milady,” Reyus rasped out. The air was still thick and heavy with dust, and he had to stop and pant for breath before continuing. “We were just coming to rescue you!” He waved aimlessly behind himself with what she took for a stolen sword, perhaps looted from a guardsman dead in the earthquake. Coming down the stairs behind him were another young man and a slightly older woman, similarly ill-equipped. Adana favored them with a bemused smile. “How thoughtful.” Reyus blushed a rosy dawn and pressed his back to the wall to allow her passage by. He followed quickly at her heels as she passed the other two and continued up the stairs - rather like an eager but ill-trained pet, she contemplated with some amusement. “Well, there was a number of us - rather, we thought…we weren’t certain what the magistrate would do to you, and we were concerned…” “So I see,” she murmured as they alighted on the ground levels of the prison and found ten or so more men and women of varying ages and garb awaiting them with anxious expressions. They filled in silently behind them as Adana continued towards the front gates, kicking aside the outstretched limbs of the dead where they littered her path. “And are these all your enemies slain? What fearsome warriors have come to my aid here?” She suspected she might be needling Reyus just to see how much further his face could purple in shame and embarrassment. But it was the end of the world, after all. One should take one’s entertainment wherever they found it. The hues of his face performed admirably. “The rest of the guards fled when the earth shook. We never suspected - milady, what is happening? Is this your doing?” “God is dead,“ she said softly. “Such a thing is not without consequences.“ Adana stooped and unwrapped a relatively undamaged black cloak from one body, throwing it over her shoulders. “You’ll want one as well, I believe,” she told the boy.

His eyes held hers bravely, and he nodded. His was an interesting soul indeed. A cult had hardly been her intention. Gaining the attention of the magistrate had been her only real aim, and if she happened to seed her own mystery a bit early, and allow it more room to grow - well, that had hardly seemed at cross purposes either. But, she supposed, it was never too early to find one’s faithful. A boy like Reyus might come in handy, and who knew what secrets the others might hold? She nodded decisively, and raised her voice to address them all. “Everything you know is about to change.” “I have a long road to walk ahead of me,” she continued. “It is not for the faint of heart.” She turned and walked from the prison‘s gatehouse. All of them, she noted with some interest, followed close behind. They raised scattered cries and shouts of alarm as they beheld the vista outside, but she barely looked up. She already knew the sky overhead was a dark red as though aflame. Roiling purple thunderclouds collided and went to war, crimson lighting stabbing at one and then another underneath. A long black tear split the heavens, stretching from one horizon to the next. Consequences were to be expected. The streets ahead of them were filled with the ruins of buildings and the bodies of the fallen. Survivors milled about in small groups, suffocating in shock while scattered fires raged. Flames crackled hungrily, fitful tongues licking at the sky and spewing their venom of smoke and ash. She could hear, faintly, the desperate prayers for salvation and succor. She sighed, and would have told them to save their breath, but then, she’d already done so. Reyus spun about, lost for even a direction to point his horror. “Milady, what about them?” Adana shook her head without slowing. “They’ll follow, or they’ll die. This city is not long for this world. It’s too close to a Vein. Nothing more can be done, and the whole world will follow if we do not reach our destination.” “But where are we going?” She favored his persistence with another small smile and drew the hood of her cloak up over her head. “We‘re going to the Citadel. To seek divinity.” It began to rain, thick, heavy drops that were warm to the touch, quickly soaking them through and through. She was glad to have found a black cloak, as the imagery of her white dress stained by this unnatural downpour was not one she cared to contemplate - even if it would already never be white again. She reached out to raise Reyus’ hood for him when he remained too distracted to care. The blood staining his golden hair, still vibrant even beneath the dust of dungeons, was not an image she found herself caring much to contemplate either. His was a curious soul indeed. “Milady, I don’t understand. If God is dead, what divinity do we seek?” Adana laughed, a deep throaty chuckle that echoed through the ruins of the broken city. “Ours,” was all she said. They picked their way through the rubble as the skies continued to bleed.

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jinjjarang · 4 years

Text

my twinkling star

summary: park jimin is part of a band on their college, and they’re famous because of it. one day, he bumped into a girl and i guess you can say that his life was changed forever. the good thing is, it was the same for her.

[friends to lovers!au, college!au]

chapter 1

pairing: park jimin x female reader

a/n: hello! i’m going back to work during this pandemic, so i thought of finishing this au as soon as possible. please do leave comments or feedback regarding this, i deeply appreciate it! i hope you enjoy reading this update.

Chapter 2: How many stars are there?

Today was an awful day.

I messed up at work, and I think I’m getting fired soon. It was a part-time job to help me sustain my needs as a student. If I end up losing this one, I think I’ll just go back to tutoring. Aside from that, my professor in a major subject suddenly decides that instead of a group project, our final assessment should be done individually and to be submitted next week. That works for me because I’m having a hard time meeting with my teammates anyway, but that also meant that I have to stay up late at night to be able to finish it at the given time.

Tonight is the start of my sleepless nights in order for this project to be done, but I’m a little distracted by the crumpled paper with the phone number lying on my desk. I took it while contemplating on what I should do with it. It has already been two days since that incident. Should I text him? What am I gonna tell him? Hi, I was the one you bumped on the street two days ago. How you doin’?

I sighed.

If there’s one thing I’m sure of in this world, it was that he’s the most beautiful person and not even Brad Pitt can relate.

I typed in his number on my contact list, and opened a new message. I blankly looked at the blinking cursor on the ‘Type a message’ section, thinking of something witty to send but I must have been too tired as I slept the night away and woke up with my phone clutched within my hands.

I have no time for boy problems at this moment in my life anyways.

The days went by so fast. I was able to finish the assessment on my major subject, and the first semester is finally going to an end.

I was texting my tutee while on my way home (yes folks, i got fired) when I suddenly bumped into someone. I looked up to say sorry, but the person who I bumped into was the one who gave me the number of the beautiful human being a week ago. Yoongi, was it?

“Yo, why didn’t you text him?” he said, while clutching the strap of his guitar bag.

“Hyung!” shouted a man coming our way. He has silver hair, and he’s wearing a plain black shirt on a black skinny jeans.

That moment, the world went into a halt.

Every motion stopped except the person now slowly running into our direction. I could hear the angels singing in the background, and I could see how the sunlight is touching the features of his face softly.

He looks mesmerizing.

I looked at him in awe. “Right, Jimin ah. Did you pass your final assessment?”

“Yup! Hoseok hyung helped me at the last minute. Do we have practice today?” the guy responded. He smiled widely, and though he looks like a baby he also looked like an angel who was brought down into the world to make it a better place.

“Yeah, we do...” I noticed that Yoongi looked at me sideways, but I couldn’t really help staring at the silver-haired angel in front of me. Is he even real? Or am I making these up? “Hey so, you didn’t answer my question.”

I blinked hard and looked back at Yoongi, dumbfounded. “Uh… Huh?”

“Oh, who’s this? Your friend?” the Jimin guy said. He’s still wearing the most beautiful smile.

“No/NO!” We both answered and he laughed loudly. God, that was the most endearing laugh I’ve ever heard in my whole life. Laugh again, please.

“Okay, chill. You do look familiar though...” he stared at me while smiling still. Mama, God wants me to go with this angel and I will comply. Does he ever stop smiling?

“That’s cause I was the one you stole from.” I blurted out. I don’t know where I got the courage to say something like that because I’m actually an introverted person, but God lend this weak bitch the strength to move forward.

He frowned. “I’m not a thief..? I didn’t steal anything from anybody.”

“You did, so we’re going to the police and sue you right now.” Okay God, this might be too much of a strength here.

“Wait wait, hold on! What are you talking about?” He looks utterly confused now, but he still looks like an angel.

Yoongi laughed beside me, which was really surprising to be honest and Jimin looked like he was surprised too. “Hyung! You’re LAUGHING? What’s so FUNNY about this? I didn’t steal anything at all!” he pouted and wow, his cheeks are so fluffy I wanna squish.

“Oh, you did Jimin ah. That’s harsh of you to forget, you know. Considering that it’s a really big crime. Think again.” he turned around, and continued, “By the way, I’ll go ahead now. Will wait for you at the practice room, or if you can’t go, that’s fine as well. Just text me.”

“Wait, hyung!” he turned to look at me and thought again. “Okay, for real, what did I steal?”

There was a moment of silence. He looked nervous as if doubting himself for a second, and I just had the urge to hug him and tell him that it’s alright but I also want to tell him off for stealing my heart. But I have no right, in reality??

“My heart.” This courage--I thank whoever has bestowed this upon me.

“What?”

“You stole my heart when you bumped into me weeks ago. I told you I’d sue you for not taking any responsibility for it.”

He stared at me, straight into my eyes as if waiting for me to tell him it’s a joke. “You want to sue ME because I stole your HEART?”

“Uh, yes. It happened almost a week ago, I guess. We bumped into each other on the street, and I shouted at you when you ran away.”

He looked bemused, then he laughed. “I remember now!” Then, he looked serious. Okay, wait a minute. I cannot handle the roller-coaster of his emotions. I am: overwhelmed.

“Will you let me off if I let you come with me right now until the end of the night?”

“WHAT?” What does he mean until the end of the night??

“No, like, have dinner afterwards or something. What came into your mind?” he smiled--a deadly one. He’s aware of his powers, and it’s scary.

“Nothing.” I looked away.

“You sure? Because to me, it looked like you suddenly thought of something embarrassing.”

“No, there wasn’t.”

“So, is that a yes? Because this practice is really important to me, I don’t wanna miss it.”

I nodded without looking at him, and when I caught a glimpse I saw him smile a little. Is it okay to admit that I have fallen in love already? This soon??

We walked silently until we reached the Arts Building and the people we passed along the way each greeted Jimin with a smile. It’s not a surprise that he’s famous because he’s literally an angel. “Are you a student here?”

“Yeah, why?”

Nothing, I just thought of why I haven’t known or ran into you before when you’re this popular on campus. I felt like my whole life was a waste.

But the thought died in my mind as I chose to not answer his question. “Freshman?” I asked instead.

He smirked at me before answering, “Nope. Do I look that young?”

I suddenly got shy and felt my cheeks burn. I was about to counter his question when he stopped in front of the room labelled as ‘Practice Room 3′ and he turned to look at me nervously. “Okay, so we’re here. You’ll meet Yoongi again, and I have a couple of friends who stay here and I don’t want it to be awkward so just be calm. No need to freak out, alright?”

I chuckled because he looked like he was the one who's already freaking out. “Hey, don’t worry. I won’t mind at all. Besides, I’m the one intruding.”

He smiled warmly. “You say that now, but they can get overwhelming…”

When he opened the door, I saw different kinds of instruments and there was a big couch on the right side of the room where four people were sitting, each one focused on their phones. I saw Yoongi looking up from his phone and he was surprised when he saw me then he looked at Jimin who was scratching the back of his neck, and then he looked at me again and back at Jimin.

“Sorry if I’m late. Should we start?”

They all focused on him now, and then stared at me with surprised looks on their faces. It did get me more embarrassed so I decided to just look at the set-up of the instruments in the room. “Wait, you’re part of a band? Like, a real band?” I asked as I looked at Jimin.

“Uh, yeah. You didn’t know?”

“No. I didn’t even know you study here, too.”

“Wait, so you’re serious that you only met me when you bumped into me a week ago? And wanted to sue me right that moment?”

“Yep. What, you thought I already knew you before then?”

“Uh huh. I thought maybe,” he looked away “you know, that was your way of, I don’t know, like getting close to me?”

I scrunched my brows at him. “What, you’re so full of yourself. I would never go that far.”

“Oh, so suing me for something I didn’t intentionally do is not going that far??”

He has a point.

“Well, how do I know that wasn’t inten--” I was interrupted when we heard a sputtering burst of laughter from the other guys in the room. We both looked at them, flustered.

A guy with plump lips and I believe to be a descendant of Aphrodite said, “Ya Jimin-ah, is this the girl Yoongi was talking about? I didn’t believe it was true.”

The one with big doe eyes and who looked like a cute little bunny when he smiles nodded. “Hyung, you’re looking very shy right now.”

Then, a blond guy with dimples so deep stated, “I didn’t think you’d bring her here. This is unexpected, truly.”

“I second that. I thought you’d leave her alone or talk it out somewhere.” Yoongi said.

Jimin looked at his friends and pointed at Yoongi. “You’re the reason she’s here! You intentionally bumped into her a while ago.”

It was my turn to ask. “You did?”

Yoongi avoided my gaze, and stood up going straight to the piano. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, kid. We should start practice.”

The others started standing up from the couch. Jimin went to the mic and held the bass guitar, the blond guy with the dimples went on the other side of the room where there was a laptop and a lot of wires and other equipment, the bunny guy went to the drums, and the descendant of Aphrodite went straight to me. He extended his hand and introduced himself.

“Hello, it’s nice to finally meet you. My name’s Kim Seokjin, but you may know that already.”

Kim Seokjin. Kim Seokjin. Kim. Seokjin. Doesn’t ring any bell at all. Is he part of the university council?

I shook his hand and smiled. “Hi, I’m Y/N. I’m sorry, but I really haven’t heard of you before.”

He looked surprised and laughed again while slapping his thighs. “Okay, that’s really cute. So you already know Yoongi, I guess?” I nodded. “Then, let me introduce you to Jungkook, the one playing the drums and there’s Namjoon who’s in charge of recording and other technical stuff. Anyway, you can go ahead and sit on the couch while--wait, I’m assuming you’re waiting for Jimin?”

“Uh…” I looked at Jimin and he was looking at us. He mouthed a ‘What?’ directed to me. “Should I be waiting for you?”

He looked flustered and avoided my gaze, then he nodded. I looked back at the descendant of Aphrodite, and smiled at him. “Sorry for intruding.”

He was suppressing a laugh and he nodded twice before telling me to sit comfortably on the couch as they will take some time with practice. I said I don’t mind and went to the couch. I looked at Jimin and his friends. How can good-looking humans be allowed to be friends? This is so unfair but I also want to thank God because I was alive to witness it.

While they were tuning their instruments, I decided it would be a good use of my time to do some of my unfinished requirements. I started to clean up on their table as it was full of plastic cups, and instant ramen bowls, when the door suddenly opened and a tall sophisticated man came in. He was wearing glasses, and he looks like the second descendant of Aphrodite. He looked at me and blinked thrice before he went to Seokjin and whispered something. They mumbled to each other for a while, and I continued what I was doing. When I was done, I sat up quietly and started to work on my paper.

To be honest, I was never able to do any of my work. When I was about to start, they started playing a song. Jimin looks like the main vocalist of the band with Seokjin the second with the acoustic guitar with him. The song was Pop Rock, and it was very pleasant to the ears. If Jimin already looks like an angel, how can I describe how he sounds like when he sings?

Is it justifiable to say that his voice sounds so serene to that point that it feels like you’re going to heaven despite all the bad things that you’ve done your whole life just because you’ve listened to him sing?

Throughout their whole practice, I found myself speechless and completely stunned. They work so well together. It felt like they’re already recording an album of their own, or like they’re already performing in a stadium, and their voices sounded so perfect. There was no flaw; truly astounding.

Guy in the glasses who was sitting beside me suddenly spoke up, “Are you with Jimin?”

“U-uh, yeah.” I don’t know why I stuttered, but listening and watching the band feels like I was in a completely different world and the question just brought me back to Earth.

He smiled and I noticed that it was one of those boxy smiles that actually looks like a grin, but this one’s a natural. “Ah, so you’re that girl! Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Kim Taehyung. I’m Jin hyung’s boyfriend. You can just call me Tae. I’m from the Arts department, and my major is photography. How about you?”

“Oh, I’m Y/N. My major’s Comparative Literature so you may see me spending most of my time at the library writing or reading stuff. It’s very nice to meet you too.” I said as I started to pack my things little by little while I maintained a decent conversation with him.

“Hey, that’s nice! What’s your favorite book?”

“I have a lot. Please don’t make me choose, I can’t do it.” We both laughed.

“Well then, recommend me some books that you like, and I’ll give it a read. Can I have your number? We should keep in touch for that book recommendation.”

By the time I gave him my number, the band had already stopped playing the second song. They went for a break, and sat on the sofa while discussing some ‘band stuff’ that I couldn’t relate to so Tae kept me company.

Taehyung and I were able to talk about a lot of random things and I found it very comforting. He has a way with his words that makes you feel like whatever you tell him is okay, and he’s ready to listen to all of it. I don’t usually like talking with others that much because I can’t keep a conversation going, but I really was able to open up to him more than with anyone else before.

The group went back to practice one last song, and Tae looked at the band softly as if it was a very fragile thing; as if looking at them could break them. He was smiling dearly and he whispered, “I just want to let you know that Jimin doesn’t usually interact with anyone else aside from us, so I’m really happy that he brought someone with him. These people… they’re very important to me. They’re my whole family.”

“It’s nice, having a family...” I wanted to ask him more about Jimin but it seems like I’d be invading a more intimate topic and I’ve only known them as of today. I’ve already been intruding too much.

“It really is.”

“Oh, that reminds me. I’m sorry if this is out of the blue, but I’m really curious. How did you guys know about me?”

He looked at me, contemplating on what to say. “Actually, we didn’t hear about you from Jimin. Yoongi hyung was the one who told us. He said something about an interesting girl who likes Jimin, and that’s that. Said you guys only bumped into each other, but he gave you Jimin’s number. Hyung always had a great eye for people; it’s as if he sees something that we don’t.”

I stared at him. I don’t know what to do with that information.

“It’s just that when they both came late that night, Yoongi hyung kept reminding Jimin to check his phone from time to time as he may receive a text. So all of us kind of waited for the text and since nothing came up, we accused him of lying. We must’ve been creepy because we all knew about you. Sorry.” he smiled apologetically.

I was quick to dismiss it because I felt embarrassed. “No, it’s okay. I’m actually very embarrassed because I know I’m intruding, and we didn’t really meet normally, you know. I don’t know what you’ve heard from Yoongi about how we met. Also, this is only the second time and we haven’t introduced ourselves formally--”

“Wait. You still haven’t introduced yourselves to each other? You and Jimin?”

I smiled shyly at Tae and looked at Jimin. “Yeah. I only know his name is Jimin because that’s how Yoongi called him a while ago. Also, I’m not sure as to why he brought me here or something, I’m just going with the flow? I’m really sorry.”

It was his turn to laugh. “Oh my, you guys are so funny! I have absolutely no words.” The band started wrapping up by this time, and I suddenly want to run away when it all sank in how unusual and totally embarrassing I am.

As soon as I saw Jimin walking to me, I immediately want to disappear. He smiled at me and asked me if we should already go. I feel hot all over, it’s as if I’m going to have a fever. I don’t have the courage to look at him anymore, the one that was lent to me has already expired. I just want to be swallowed whole by the ground.

“Hey?” he tried to look into my eyes, and I looked at Taehyung asking for help through telepathy and he just laughed at me.

“It’s okay, you guys can go. We have already finished talking, anyway.” He said while flailing his hands dismissively, and left us both on the couch. Noooo!

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked, worry evident in his eyes.

I tried to look at him, and failed. “Uh, sure. I mean, yes. Let’s go. Oh. Where are we going?”

He smiled at me. “How about we talk at the park behind the building first?”

“Okay, sounds good.” No, it doesn’t sound good. I did not think this through. I’m not ready for this.

Jimin waved goodbye to the group, and I smiled at them before leaving. We walked silently towards the park, and the people greeted Jimin the same way they did when we got here.

He’s glowing. Wherever he goes, it’s like the light follows him.

We arrived at the park he was talking about, and we sat side by side on a bench waiting for someone to start a conversation. We both were looking at the students passing by the park and kept silent for a while until I started to have the courage to talk to him.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make things awkward for you and your friends. Also, I must’ve creeped you out with how we met or the things I was saying. But it was true, you know. I mean, just some of it. I won’t sue you, I promise.” I blurted out.

He laughed at look at me intently. “Hey, it’s alright. I’m not mad or anything. But shouldn’t we get introduced with each other first?”

“Right. I’m Y/N and I major in Comparative Literature. I’m graduating next semester.” I extended my hand to him for a handshake and he took it immediately while smiling.

“I’m Jimin. I major in dance. I’m also hoping to graduate next semester.”

We talked for a while about our major and how he bumped into me that night due to the gig that they were catching up to. Jimin was a kind person, his smile never faded the whole time we were talking and I found out that it was very easy to make him laugh. He shared a lot of stories about their gigs and their adventures as friends. It was normal and simple talk about his life and some of mine. He kept the conversation going, and he never ran out of things to say.

It was already dark, and the lamp posts started to lit up. Jimin was still talking about his professor who keeps forgetting stuff, and I’m just staring at him. His eyes turn a crescent shape when he smiles, and he looks genuinely happy. The kind of happy when you give a child a lollipop or candy.

He was like a twinkling star when he talks. He lights up the darkness surrounding us. Looking at him on this moment makes me think how many stars are there in the universe. It also makes me think if anyone can shine bright than the one star in front of me--I bet not.

#bts au #bts jin #bts namjoon #bts jimin #bts taehyung #bts jeongguk #bts j-hope #bts suga #bts yoongi #college au #college au bts #bts fluff #bts crack au #band vocalist!jimin #my twinkling star

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derbysilkmill · 4 years

Text

HEGEL’S TROWEL: working on the thing

Making changes everything. Ivan Illich, Tools for Conviviality

Soul is extra-scientific, outside of science, we will allow no scientific disproof of it. Maulana Karenga, Practice: Documents of Contemporary Art

Locked down by government guidelines designed to increase social distancing, the gap between oneself and the other, a space that can stop cross infection between us all, meant spending time watching the television. The daily BBC update reported how many more bodies have been, are still being, destroyed or attacked from the deadly Covid-19 virus. It might not be surprising then with so much biological and existential demolition on the go that I found myself watching TV programming to do with restoration and making things: Salvage Hunters, Escape to the Chateau DIY, Secrets of the Museum, The Restoration of Notre- Dame Cathedral. Kirsty Alsop reckons these days we should Keep Crafting and Carry on; making things as a form of therapy. The Repair Shop is a phenomena with craft experts restoring material stuff to how it was. Grayson Perry promoted art, and artisan making – he is a potter - as a great healer: ‘we are all wounded’ he said on channel four. Before the outbreak of this new threat to life I was working up this small general piece about the transformational potential of creative activity, in the main, making.

Lisa Tarbuck, was talking on radio 2. She’s a media celebrity and a fan of making things. Super mentioning a piece of weaving or needlework she’d completed that day, she told her Saturday night audience: ‘I just couldn’t stop bloomin’ looking at it…know wot I mean…? An old friend told me recently that I just had to get hold of a copy of Mathew Crawford’s The Case for Working with Your Hands (2011). He, the old friend, was the studio furniture designer-maker when I worked with him at Detail London; a young furniture makers. Together, we made bespoke furniture (for a beautiful stylish wealthy cool consuming clientele). Nowadays he works in academia, writing and lecturing to students about craft and making. His research has interrogated how human well-being is affected by undertaking craft activities, particular recreational making done by amateur practitioners. Crawford writes about well-being, too. The subtitle of his study is: or why office work is bad for us and fixing things feels good. In a recent email exchange the furniture designer turned academic communicated that he looked back with fondness to his making days. Perhaps with ‘rose-tinted glasses’ he qualified.

There is a growing group of western intellectuals who today theorise and promote the idea that there is a definite connection between the processes undertaken when crafting things from raw materials and human well-being. Often slow and protracted, acts of physical making are, they generally posit, a valid source and resource to increase self-esteem. Existential events such as technically planning how to make something from scratch, the selecting of appropriate materials, development and deployment of hand skills, constructing structures to a set standard, finishing worked-on material, just being in a practical workshop in extended time and space, are inter alia physically, intellectually, emotionally good for human life. Teaching craft skills in adult education and community workshop settings I have witnessed diverse learner makers achieve remarkable personal satisfaction, and that allied well-being a craft cognoscenti rightly identify, in going through the technical and material processes when constructing any crafted object. Contra this supra ideal of process, quotidian workshop life reveals that, in reality, it is not only the extended making of the final object that is beneficent to the maker of this newly-present thing – the temporal spatial physical crafting and grafting - but the now-made self-styled object- the present thing in itself the maker has made.

At the currently closed-for-restoration Silk Mill (soon to be transformed/remade as The Museum of Making) interested visitors come to Derby for a look around the modern workshop housed in the ‘world’s-first-factory’. Generally, but not always, these people are museum professionals, culture workers, creative artists or social activists. Nearly all are interested in delivering well-being because it matters. I like talking to these folks, often desk-bound and definitively (unavoidably?) over-digitalised in their daily office lives, they take a genuine interest in the practical making a workshop allows – the working we do with our hands - activities they see as critical to human holistic well-being. Sometime ago our executive director at Derby Museums was in the workshop standing by our CNC, talking with me. Next to Tony stood one of the inquisitive visitors; an interested (and interesting to me) culture-industry professional. Inevitably, the conversation made its way to mentions of well-being. I told them both how I see people who often do symbolically distinguished, but atomised or abstract, work -- practices with often unquantifiable or subjective outcomes (the negative work Crawford describes) -- come to a fresh and solider understanding of themselves after constructing a materially tangible piece of furniture out of plywood or turning out a curvy bowl from a rough brute blank of oak. Stood next to the idled CNC I remember saying something like this:

“In my working life I come across a lot of people who do highly complex engineering, but in a rather abstract or theoretical way, or others who live in a digital bubble I call ‘computer world’, modelling AutoCAD perfection but never getting to actually see or touch any material outcomes or be involved in making something from start to finish by their own hands… But when people make something here in the workshop they objectify themselves…….as they say “no one has ever taken a picture of the unconscious…or seen a picture of the self ”.

There followed a sort of embarrassed silence. Then inscrutable nods and smiles from the Executive Director and his guest. Then a “well thanks for that Steve….” -- as they left the workshop.

Specifically, a proud plagiarist, I had, of course, synthesized the ideas of literary critic Terry Eagleton and Arts and Craft sculptor Eric Gill. Generally speaking, I had just paraphrased a few ideas of the well-known German philosopher GWF Hegel (1770-1831) -- ideas lifted from the undecipherable, but well known, Phenomenology of Mind (1807).

Well, to be more honest, I was paraphrasing Alexandre Kojève’s partially more decipherable Introduction to the Reading of Hegel. Compiled from Kojève’s lecture notes, and first published in 1969, the cult text explains Hegel’s theory of the dialectical (constant changing) progress of human history, in particular his well-known concept of the ‘Master and Slave’ conflict – the transformative phylogenetic and ontogenetic dialectic. For me the key passage in Introduction is how the text unmakes and then reconstitutes Hegel’s brutal concept of The Thing – raw given objective nature as unshaped material object – and how non-human Things (slaves/workers/makers) become Human. i.e. transform their selfhood from a raw physiological primordial brute unthinking thing by working on another thing (raw brute unshaped material reality – wood, stone, metal, wool, cotton, clay) and making it or, a key word, transforming it (as of themselves) - into something it wasn’t before, in its un-worked material given existence in the world, for another: The Master.

This is the actual Hegelian (Kojèvian) paragraph that refers to the experience of the creating maker- slave who makes for, and in place of, the consumer master:

‘The slave can work for the Master – that is, for another other than himself…he does not destroy the thing as it is given. He postpones the destruction of the thing by first trans-forming it through work; he prepares it for consumption-that is to say, he “forms” it. In his work, he trans-forms things and trans-forms himself at the same time: he forms things and the World by transforming himself, by educating himself; and he educates himself, he forms himself, by transforming things and the World. Thus, the negative-or-negating relation to the object becomes a form of this object and gains permanence, precisely because, for the worker, the object has autonomy. At the same time, the negative-or-negating middle-term—i.e., the forming activity [of work] – is the isolated particularity or the pure Being-for-itself of the Consciousness. And this Being-for-itself, through work, now passes into what is outside of the Consciousness, into the element of permanence. The working Consciousness thereby attains a contemplation of autonomous given-being such that it contemplates itself in it. [The product of work is the worker’s production. It is the realisation of his project, of his idea; hence, it is he that is realised in and by this product, and consequently he contemplates himself when he contemplates it. Now, this artificial product is at the same time just as “autonomous,” just as objective, just as independent of man, as is the natural thing. Therefore, it is by work, and only by work, that man realises himself objectively as man. Only after producing an artificial object is man himself really and objectively more than and different from a natural being; and only in this real and objective product does he become truly conscious of his subjective human reality. Therefore, it is only by work that man is a supernatural being that is conscious of its reality; by working, he is “incarnated” Spirit, he is historical “World”, he is “objectivised” History.’

Kojève concludes in the Intro that the dead German idealist philosopher (Hegel) ‘may well know much more than we do about things we need to know’.

Interestingly, a former US academic/intellectual, Crawford (he worked in a Washington ‘think tank’ before quitting to run a motorcycle repair shop) uses the same quote in his book The Case For Working With Your Hands – but misleadingly attributes the quote to the Kojève. Folksy Crawford expresses Hegel’s idea in a more homespun pragmatic manner, as is the way of practical American philosophy: ‘The satisfaction of manifesting oneself concretely in the world through manual competence has been known to make a man quiet and easy…he is proud of what has been made’

Crawford writes about a kind of ‘self-disclosing’ latent in creativity, work and making.Concurring with Crawford and Hegel the sociologist Richard Sennet in his study The Craftsman, rites about ‘the warm values of craft and creativity’ and a ‘zesty freedom crucial to well-being of society’.

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I worked for a time in a comprehensive school. The head of Design and Technology – a former skilled industrial toolmaker – had had the foresight not to sell off the capstan lathes, milling machines, welding kit, old-school woodwork benches and traditional hand tools bought and installed in the 1970s.

Painted out in dull lemon yellow, orthodox (vintage) wood-machinery apple green, the Design &Technology workshops looked like the past and so still played their part in 21st century life. You could smell old machine oil in the cold metal machines, bashed-up blue vices fitted to weathered beech workstations exuded a residual making aura. When the lathes were set running, rasping files shaped steel, sharp planes flattened pine, the space sounded like a real live workshop in the (ontogenetic) now, yet echoing the making culture of a phylogenetic past. In America, Crawford tells us that technical making and design is simply called ‘shop class’, or more accurately was called shop class because he bleakly observes, akin to the collapse of technical skills education in Britain, since the early 90s educational institutions have instituted a ‘big push’ to close shop class to open up digital and computer literacy. Any revival of shop class today is hindered for Crawford by the lack of skilled people competent to revive technical crafts and making in general.

Frustrated by the British school drift to digital D&T practices, a virtual curriculum (there is now virtual welding), and driven on by a shared ‘it wasn’t all computers in our day’ narcissistic nostalgia (manifested in everyday miserableness), me and the old toolmaker got our heads together and came up with project which harked back to the days of secondary-modern craft lessons in wood and metalwork; the saved machines made the scene believable.

It was only a small pot-planting trowel. It was made out of aluminium and wood. From tip to tip 200mm long. It had a curved blade and the cranked arm was cold-riveted to the blade in a traditional blacksmithing style; the students used ballpein hammers clanging metal on the workshop’s under-loved anvil. On the once-busy but no-longer-silent lathes we put a sharp point on the 6mm round bar that made the stem from handle to blade helping drive it into the softer wooden trowel handle. The serpentine bends were created on a small Groz metal folder designed for DIY artisan metalworkers. The hardwood handle was shaped with a selection of rough round and flat cutting rasps, before being sanded, with care, by glass-paper. The blade was formed with aero-industry tin snips before being worked into a symmetrical curve with metal files. To work the flat sheet aluminium into the required radius of the blade it was fed several passes through a small jewellery rolling machine – sort of a washing mangle meets pasta machine. The trowel looked impressive when made. Three hundred students made one. The test of success is always if young makers want to take what they make home to show to someone who they care cares; most did. They had worked on the thing, objectified themselves, could contemplate themselves in itself, the small trowel, a trowel designed to be used, a tool to work on the thing, transforming nature as soil to wit.

The now fired up ex-toolmaker pointed out to me that, before we could roll out the trowel project to the students, the NQTs (Newly Qualified Teachers) in the D&T department – the electronic, digital, laser engraving, 3D printing makers – and ESWs, (Educational Support Workers) who would assist students, had to be quickly trained up in the basic craft and hand skills required to create, then teach, the trowel. They would need teaching the basic historical making techniques for working on the thing.

We arranged an ‘after-school’ instruction session in the workshop classroom. Everyone arrived looking harassed with a mug of tea or coffee/mug of hot water; offered the usual banter; male teachers removed ties; everyone put on an apron. Each participant got a set of stock blanks: a length of aluminium bar, 150mm x 6mm ø; a rectangle of sheet aluminium, 1mm x 75mm x 120mm; a section of hardwood (beech, oak, ash, reclaimed teak or mahogany), 100mm x 25mm▫. The first task was to make a two-dimensional template – using 5mm graph card folded in half along a continuous grid line – to mark out the tapering and curved profile of the trowel’s blade. Sketching freehand they used the graph-paper squares for visual guidance. The pencilled line was cut with scissors and the pattern unfolded to reveal a symmetrical, if rough, outline. The next step was to show the trowel-makers how to transfer the profile, geometrically square, onto the shiny cropped aluminium by using a scribed (accurately-marked) centre line to align the centrefold of the paper along, thus ensuring the blade sat true, i.e. at 90° to the square back edge.

A metal scriber was then used to carefully score a visible line around the flimsy paper template into the soft aluminium. The workshop was quiet except for the soft ringing sound of metal on wood benchtop as, in deep concentration, teaching-staff students guided the hardened and sharpened steel marking tool around the curved card onto the aluminium.

(Still you could hear some light jokey banter, but of a kind, collaborative, encouraging type of joshing – ‘phatic’ communication, some dead continental philosopher of language would say.)

Aluminium can be cut easily - as card with scissors - when using inexpensive aero-industry shearing snips. Commonly used in hand tin-smith work and light commercial bespoke production these tools are designed to cut straight or with a left or right hand bias. (They are colour coded red, green and yellow and a good workshop needs the full set – an additional long-nosed straight-cutting pair is a great help for occasional extended profile cutting or internal corners.) I demonstrated how to cut the aluminium in short snips, neatly following the scribed line, shearing the material slowly and deftly the snips making the waste (swarf) curl upwards, away from the desired external blade line.

It was pointed out to the teacher-students that - novice maker or proficient craftsman - it is generally best practice when cutting stock materials to work ‘outside the line’ leaving a small margin of material for cleaning up post-cutting. Dead flat with fine teeth, hard because made from steel, metal-working files were used to remove the extraneous rough cut metal to the scribed line, scored into the aluminium, demarking the required final recognisable trowel-blade profile. Filing produces sharp burrs on metal which, in this instance, were removed with industrial emery paper. The blade smooth and symmetrical was now ready for the students to roll.

Metal rolling is the same process for a fine silver ring as a thick-walled boiler rolled out from, as it happens, 25 mm boiler plate. Basically, thin or thick factory-milled metal plate is passed through two calibrated parallel rollers which are adjusted to the required gauge of the material to be rolled. Sprung under high tension the front bars force the metal sheet towards a single back roller which is set higher than the underside of the passing steel or, in our case, aluminium. The metal is malleable and -- forced to climb over the higher spinning back roller -- begins to take on the required radius of the part required. This might be a shallow curve as the trowel needs, or a full circle, as in a delicate silver ring or a high pressure vessel such as a boiler whereby the seam is soldered or welded together and ground back. We were using a small jewellery-maker’s bench roller - no more than 300 mm in width - but the radius-forming mechanical principal remains the same.

Operating a bench metal roller is, as I sort of said before, a bit like passing dough through a pasta machine. But instead of making the metal thinner per pass – which, as is well known, is how the metal plate was produced in the forging mill in the first phase of ‘thing working’ - the radius is increased; the careful gradual adjustment – the increased un-alignment of the roller - in small increments forms the aluminium into the practical, and aesthetically pleasant crescent wanted. Students checked the curvature against a small accurate plywood template. They had to make three to four adjustments.

Before forming the 6mm bar into the distinctive kinked component joining the wooden handle to the blade of the trowel, it was necessary at this stage to turn a sharp point on the aluminium that would allow the bar to be driven into the end grain of the timber. The stock piece of rod was placed in a three-jaw chuck screwed onto the turning stock of one of the neglected Colchester lathes in the workshop, and the traverse tool slider bed set at 5°; a shallow machining angle, but correct for this operation. Each operative was informed of which was the correct tool to use for this operation – left hand cutting tool - and shown how to clamp and set the tool in the lathe tool holder to the dead-centre of the lathe and therefore the dead centre of the round stock material to achieve the optimum cutting angle and efficient waste removal. As a matter of maker education, head-stock turning-speed settings – coded in colour on the foundry-cast body of the Colchester – were demonstrated to, but set by, the learner turners.

The trowel project was designed/contrived to include several processes and employ a variety of tools and typical metalworking kit to introduce youngsters to some fundamental craft techniques and experience bench fitting, sheet metal working, capstan turning.

To secure the cranked arm to the blade two aluminium rivets were to be inserted through the stem and trowel blade and flattened into a pre-drilled countersunk hole so creating a secure fixing. But, the bar was round in section, so that only a small section of the stem would be in contact with the flattish blade. To achieve a better joint it was imperative, then, to flatten out the round bar by heating the end of the stem and bashing it while it was still plastic with heat, hammering it carefully into shape with a heavy ballpein hammer on the arm of a traditional forge anvil; a neat steer of the making process into the lost-world of blacksmithing.

(Hegel liked to walk in his home town of Heidelberg, and perhaps it was the sight of the town blacksmith toiling over a hot forge, hammering and twisting hot raw iron into shape, making some decorative gates for the local lordship, that inspired his ideas about masters and servants and the transformative effects of working on the thing? Today, most of us have seen similar images on TV: neo-blacksmiths heating metal in a forge until it glows orange-red with heat from the coals before working it to form, with that romantic ringing of hammer and anvil, before plunging the work into cold steaming water.)

The problem with aluminium is that, non-ferrous, it retains its silver-grey colour when heated, and, to boot, we didn’t have access to a traditional forge, but the old toolmaker had the answer. He produced a plumber’s Gaz blowtorch, “I nicked ‘im from construction cupboard”, and some Fairy Liquid. Go on then, he said, smirking, what’s the Washing-up liquid for? I put my bottom lip out, shrugged with a laugh, and said I had no idea. “Ally don’t glow”. “Oh…I see” I said. “Detergent turns black when metal’s ‘ot enuff…then you can work it on anvil…simple” he grabbed the collar of his white smock with both hands and gave them a tug, before firing up the blowtorch. I passed this tip on to the NQTs and ESWs before they flattened their trowel stems.

In old-school black and white ink, a technical drawing indicated to the trowel-makers where on the straight length of aluminium bar marks needed to be made to indicate where the handle section should be placed in the trapping tongue - moved by a simple rack gear - of the Groz bender. The top of the tooling was also marked ‘clock –face’ style to show how far the tommy bar handle should be moved (from 12 to 4 say) and so work the soft rod into the flattened S shaped crank required of the finished component. The makers were having fun using the different kit, especially, the Groz, - they became absorbed in the basic but fundamental metal-forming processes and traditional manufacturing techniques introduced to them - but had to fully concentrate on ensuring that the two bends were executed in the same plane of orientation to avoid twisting the stalk of the cranked trowel stem or out of line with the flattened riveted section.

[ The Groz metal bender is itself a thing – converted and worked and cast from material nature (mined raw iron ore -- made into steel and machine processed) - made by things – humanised thing makers (engineers) - to make small springs, fixing clips and rings - things for other things; tools, machine parts, which in their bending, twisting and forming offer a thing maker chance to transcend its objective thingness in working on this metal material stuff, and objectify its subjective self through the final thing made, which in the case of machinery and tools may make other things and so on. Such as clips on a motorcycle in for repair or customisation in Crawford’s American shop. ]

The cranked bar was then set in a machine vice on the pillar drill, and a 3mm hole was drilled to take the rivet stalk and slightly larger countersunk hole ( top side) into which the 3mm aluminium rivet stalk would, using a hammer and anvil, be flattened. The wider domed mushroom head of the round rivet traps the thin blade between the stem and blade. To avoid flattening the curvature of the rivet head a purpose-designed hollowed out steel tool -- an exact concaved inverse radius of the convex pip of the rivet fastening -- was used by the participants to protect it when hammering the soft aluminium into the bored out section on the reverse side. This was then also filed flat and finished smooth with emery paper. With this fine fettling the metal-working processes had been completed. Components had all been successfully marked out, cut, shaped, rolled and bent, riveted and finally filed into a recognisable small potting trowel. Everyone in the class (shop) looked dead pleased to have transformed the shapeless bits and pieces of metal into a tool that could be used; but they still had to make the handle out of wood.

In a small box were a selection of pre-cut handle blanks ready to be matched to the still-shiny trowel parts. There were short 25mm square sections of beech, ash, mahogany, maple, oak and reclaimed pine – all unwanted found offcuts lying around waiting to be made into something useful but beautiful. I explained how that the first task was to set out the curvature required of a rounded handle on the end sections. For example, a circle is created from a geometrically symmetrical combination of hexagonal flats filed at 45°, then refined further with 22.5° tangents which, if the section diameter was large enough, can be taken closer to a perfect mathematically round profile with 11.25° flats and so on, i.e. angles are halved until a finite circle is produced. People smile when I say a circle is made of infinite flats, but, in a way, it is.

The second operation was to drill a hole down the centre of the stock timber with a 6mm drill bit. The wood was set square in a vice on a pillar drill and a hole bored down its core to accommodate the aluminium.

To be honest with you, most of the teachers and ESWs went their own way, freestyling, shaping the wooden parts, integrating underside curves with small finger-shaped hand grips. After the tight discipline of the metal techniques, finishing of the handles with spoke-shaves and rough-sharp rasps into vernacular crafted forms offered the makers a sort of soft therapeutic warm-down. The workshop took on a quieter woody – less hard metallic - aspect; a fresh atmospheric with the room infused by the aroma of the freshly worked old dead growing thing: the trees.

The organic-looking handles were finished with glass paper, students instructed in how to work from the roughing grades, 60 grit through to 100 grit, fining down to 240 flour paper. The job was finished by oiling the timber with Danish oil which brings out the light and shade and twisting lines of wood grain; sealing the material from moisture, and ultimate rotting. The final operation was to cement the riveted trowel section into the completed handle with a small dob of epoxy resin adhesive and stand back and admire; take in what had been achieved in a short after-school making session.

We stood around chatting. People said they’d loved making something. One said it had de-stressed him. Another couldn’t wait to take it home to show others. Some said nothing, but admired their handiwork. A few critiqued their own trowel, then complimented other’s workmanship. Phone cameras came into play. After we all packed away and tidied the workshop up ready for the next D&T school day – vacuum forming plastic bugs for students to stick googly eyes onto – everybody rushed out of the door to get home for tea. But one person hung back. She said to me ‘I’ve really enjoyed making this. Being in the workshop was just what I needed’. Good, I thought, and said ‘I’m glad’. She said ‘No more than that Steve…I needed this’. She paused. Looked a bit upset. She told me she’d had a horrible day. Awful and terrible because she was in personal conflict with a co-worker. The situation was unbearable. The emotional pain almost tortuous, nearly breaking her, she reckoned. So upset, she just wanted to go home; get out of the place. She’d forced herself to stay on. But holding up the trowel said ‘I’m so glad I stuck it out – I’m dead proud of making this’. She waved about the trowel as if digging the earth. It might only be a small thing, she admitted, but the trowel had proved something, her soul was restored, she had something to use and show for herself. The Trowel project will feature in Museum of Making workshop programming 2021

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theonyxpath · 4 years

Link

So, yes, it’s Labor Day here in the US, a national holiday. Many companies would therefore give today off to their employees, but since every day is a holiday here at Onyx Path, we had our usual Monday Meeting today, and work continues apace.

Of course, the second part of our MMN Blog title today comes from the fact that the Scion: Demigod 2e Kickstarter has been just crashing through the Stretch Goals after funding in 75 minutes! We’re all really thrilled and grateful to all of our backers for showing such fantastic support!

Putting the two together, I thought that a change of pace today that showed how some labor was done to create the elements for Scion: Demigod might be appropriate. And since I did some of that labor, I figure it’s on me to step up today and delve into the creation process for one of our latest Scion pantheon symbols.

This one is for the Apu, the Incan pantheon.

It’s usually after the writing is pretty well finalized, but not necessarily developed, that I’ll ask the project developer for notes on whichever part of the project needs a symbol. In the case of Scion, our writing and dev teams do such a deep dive into the pantheons that I could get overwhelmed just reading through the text, so in addition to letting me read that, I also ask for any ideas they might have for symbols and elements appropriate to the pantheon.

Sometimes I get easily usable ideas, and other times the needs of a visual project mean that I have to dig a bit deeper myself. In the case of the Apu, my notes scrawled on my note pad included: “golden sun disc (with link)”, “stepped pyramid”, “stone and gold”, “order/stability”, “Cusco”, “black and white llamas”.

I was good to go with the golden sun disc, and checked to see if any of the previous Scion symbols I designed went down that same visual direction. None did, so using that big hit of gold as the centerpiece became the start for the symbol. I originally considered using the foliage motif similar to what I did for the Aztec pantheon symbol as a background and surrounding next for the gold disc, but that did seem too close to other symbols and for me it just didn’t feel Incan enough.

Which is a big part of what makes these Scion symbols work, they have to feel appropriate to the pantheon. Which means we’re in the realm of the subjective, as what feels right to me may not feel right to you. But that’s the chance you take, because these are Scion symbols and they have to touch us, mean something to us, at least a bit, or we’re missing the point of the setting/game. All the raw data in the world about what should be included doesn’t help if most people aren’t connecting with that symbol.

That led me to hit the books. Yes, actual books. If I know what I want, finding 1500 images that I can use as reference for that thing is a snap with a Google search, but if I’m still looking for visuals that connect with me, then online searching just doesn’t work for me as well as paging through books about a culture. I don’t know what’s on the next page, which is the point.

One of the things I picked up on, was how striking the textiles still are in areas we’d consider Incan. Which started a whole different idea about how the color could and should work for this symbol. Bird feathers as decoration, and returning to one of the writer’s suggestions, the Incan knotted rope language called quipu. I had wanted to use it but didn’t have a way to keep the ropes and knots legible in the symbol, but with a bright textile background holding everything together, I could bring the quipu back into play.

Here’s my rough ideas page, the Apu symbol at top right representing the first pass, and the one lower left coming after I did more research:

From the rough sketch, where I’m looking at what elements can be arranged in what pattern, and where I’m thinking about but not putting down the color yet, I’ll draw out the various elements on bristol board in ink – usually with technical pens rather than anything that would give a varying line. We just need an even line.

A lot of time, if I know I want an image the same on both sides, or top and bottom, then I’ll just draw the one side and copy/flip/combine in Photoshop after scanning. The knotted ropes are on a separate page, as they required the whole sheet so I could draw them with enough detail.

Like I mentioned, these drawings get scanned in, and are really used as raw materials to copy and paste from when I start to make the whole symbol in Photoshop. Each element in the design gets its own layer, and that layer is set to Multiply in the layer menu. That way, the darkest lines stay dark, but anything in a layer “under” our line art shows through. This will become clearer when you see how the color goes in, but here’s just the line art all piled on top of each other:

At this point, it’s time to get color in there, and in this specific symbol, it’s also time to get the patterning into the Incan textile. Some of the colors only show up when the overall color is on there, so don’t worry if it seems like some of the symbols aren’t there. They are on layers that I did different layer types, like Multiply from before:

I also used the same colors for the fringe along the bottom and just drew those in loosely knowing the overall color would fall in between the other colors. Each instance of the bird symbol is on its own layer so that I could play around with size, position, layer effects, and color. I was going more for energy with the positioning and a certain lack of perfect positioning to replicate the hand-crafted nature of the textile.

Next, here it is with the red overall color. I spent a lot of time playing with the color controls to get the red I wanted, and then tweaked almost all of the little bird symbols to have their colors work with the red:

While some of the birds are now showing up, you can see a few blank spots in there. Don’t worry, those won’t show up once the other item layers get colored in.

This was good, but the thing was, it didn’t feel like fabric to me. And that’s what I wanted to really play up – the texture of the textile! I could have scanned in a cloth texture, or found one online, but in this case I went with combining layer effects and filters. I’d tell you what I did if I could remember, but here’s what it looked like without the red layer behind it:

I’m going to jump ahead here, and give you a step by step look at the big gold disk as it’s layers are painted in, but just assume that whatever I tell you about the disk, I already did in sort of the same sequence for the knotted ropes and the feathered headdress. I also started thickening the line stroke around objects to give them more heft and set them visually into the whole symbol. More on that later.

So here’s the first color for the disk, a dark golden brown:

Here’s where it really gets fun and painterly. The next layer is just yellow, with the Photoshop brush set on soft-round and at something like 25% transparency. With the lines already setting up the shapes, I just zoomed in and put yellow in keeping the brightest areas towards where the light was supposed to be hitting the disk (more from below than the traditional light from above):

Looking at it at this point, it didn’t pop enough. So I copied the yellow layer and set it to Multiply or the like and the doubled up yellow hit what I was looking for. It didn’t show up much when I was putting these sequential layer graphics together, but it’s that sort of subtle coloring that gives it the 3D look we need:

And here goes the last highlight on the gold, which was a lot closer to white to really get a bit of sparkle, plus I also created a shadow effect in two layers so that the disk would feel more like it is on top of the other elements. We want that gold disk to be the big popping thing from this graphic, and it needs to be strong to outshine the colors of the textile:

You can also see that I made the outer edge line much thicker than the others inside the symbol, so we’d have a strong edge to it so it could stand out on the page like the previous Scion symbols. Although, to be faaaair, I did reduce that thickness where the knotted ropes break out of the bottom. The ropes were being engulfed by the outline visually, plus, there’s a whole “language will be free” sort of thing going on there.

Hope you enjoyed this little look at the labor (or labour, as Matthew, James, and Ian would say) behind one of these pieces. It really is a labor of love, though, and it is so great when folks really respond to them.

Because this blog was so art heavy, here are your usual pieces of art from upcoming projects all together at the end!

V5 Let the Streets Run Red art by Sam Araya

Terra Firma art by Gregor Pedrycz

Hope you don’t mind the extra art here, but they really do illustrate our

Many Worlds, One Path!

Blurbs!

Kickstarter!

Scion Demigod Second Edition funded last week in 75 minutes and is headed strongly to 300% funding, having blown through all sorts of Stretch Goals! Check it out if you haven’t already:

https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/200664283/scion-demigod-book-3-for-the-scion-second-edition-rpg

Onyx Path Media!

This week: The Titanically Talented Trio of Terrible Terrificness discuss Stumbles, Errors, and How To Avoid Them! They’ll be looking at all sorts of fumbles and bumbles they and others have made while putting together game books!

As always, this Friday’s Onyx Pathcast will be on Podbean or your favorite podcast venue! https://onyxpathcast.podbean.com/

The Story Told RPG Podcast gets top billing this week due to their excellent, in-depth interview with developer Neall Raemonn Price regarding the currently on Kickstarter Scion: Demigod! Check it out and learn some of the ins and outs of Scion: https://thestorytold.libsyn.com/episode-61-scion-demigod-interview-with-neall-price

We’ve got lots of Scion: Demigod actual plays coming in the next few weeks, with the first starting this week by Vorpal Tales! Keep watching this section for more Scion: Demigod games!

For anyone new to our media section, you can find us running and playing games over on twitch.tv/theonyxpath pretty much every day of the week! Plus, if you’d like your games hosted there, just get in touch with Matthew Dawkins using the contact link on matthewdawkins.com.

Please give our Twitch channel a follow, as you can find a huge number of videos of all kinds of games being run!

This week on Twitch, expect to see these games and streams running:

Scarred Lands – A Family Affair

Technocracy Reloaded – Vorpal Tales

Scion: Demigod – Vorpal Tales

Danielle’s RPG Development Workshop

Hunter: The Vigil – Cold Cases Forsaken Spaces

Changeling: The Dreaming – The Last Faerie Tale

Mage: The Awakening – Occultists Anonymous

Vampire: The Masquerade – Boston by Night

Chronicles of Darkness – Tooth and Claw

Deviant: The Renegades – A Cautionary Tale

Get watching for some fantastic insight into how to run these wonderful games and subscribe to us on Twitch, over at twitch.tv/theonyxpath

Come take a look at our YouTube channel, youtube.com/user/theonyxpath, where you can find a whole load of videos of actual plays, dissections of our games, and more, including:

Changeling: The Dreaming – The Last Faerie Tale – E11 – https://youtu.be/Vxqy6JgB9wk

Scarred Lands – Surprise Meatgrinder! – https://youtu.be/iqiIEsvIslE

Scarred Lands – Purge of the Serpentholds – S1E14 – https://youtu.be/Ie-rITGhaAs

Hunter: The Vigil – Uptown Shadows Episode 4 – https://youtu.be/2qdLBpMu0lE

Realms of Pugmire – Paws and Claws S2E14 – https://youtu.be/ZcSdsNK-VI0

Subscribe to our channel and click the bell icon if you want to be notified whenever new news videos and uploads come online!

Tom Murr continues with his amazing They Came from Beneath the Sea! audio drama over on his YouTube channel!

Radio ReScience Episode 2: Military Entanglement, can be found right here: https://youtu.be/qiTprIriV7Y

And Episode 3: Spycraft is here: https://youtu.be/qqS5rM3GA5A

Systematic Understanding of Everything is a new Exalted Explainer Podcast by Exalted Dev Monica Speca and Exalted Writer Chazz Kellner that is breaking down Creation in 45 minute chunks in preparation for Exalted Essence.

Their most recent episodes are available over on https://www.exaltcast.com/, with their newest covering the stunning terrifying Abyssals!

The Story Told Podcast continues their Fall of Jiara Exalted chronicle, and you can find their newest episode right here: https://thestorytold.libsyn.com/fall-of-jiara-25

Our good friend The Primogen concluded his Changeling: The Lost actual play a couple of months ago, and has kindly assembled a useful playlist of every single episode. Go give his excellent tale, Littlebrook Reunion, a watch: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2GEMzqGEGIg6pT79zt-FyFYoPjzn8YM5

GMS Magazine produced a review of Dystopia Rising: Evolution over on their channel! https://youtu.be/Q0Ih1KkUhS0

Here’s a blast from the past: last year, Tabletop Spotlight reviewed Monarchies of Mau for us. If you’re interested in some in-depth views of this corner of the Realms of Pugmire, please give their video a watch: https://youtu.be/gV48x2eQMU4

Vorpal Tales assembled their playlist of They Came from Beyond the Grave! actual play episodes as well, and you can find all six of the episodes of this series right here: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL9fUj4KdqE4BTnVZv9pZUkSk7GpwnyKXG

Please check these out and let us know if you find or produce any actual plays of our games! We’d love to feature you!

Electronic Gaming!

As we find ways to enable our community to more easily play our games, the Onyx Dice Rolling App is live! Our dev team has been doing updates since we launched based on the excellent use-case comments by our community, and this thing is awesome! (Seriously, you need to roll 100 dice for Exalted? This app has you covered.)

We’re told that the App Dev is currently creating an updated version for the latest devices, so keep an eye open for those!

Virtual TableTop!

Introducing a Virtual Tabletop adventure: the Gauntlet of Spiragos for Scarred Lands on Astral TableTop!

Scars of the Divine War, which ended less than 200 years ago, have still not healed. One such scar is the Chasm of Flies, a rent in the earth created when the titan Spiragos the Ambusher was smote down by one of the young gods, Vangal the Ravager. Now, the Chasm is inhabited by spider-eye goblins and their spider allies, but it is also thought to be the resting place of powerful artifacts from that elder age.

Gauntlet of Spiragos is a Scarred Lands adventure designed for 1st level characters, although it can be easily modified for characters of up to 5th level.

Astral TableTop is the easiest way to play any tabletop RPG online, free. Astral already supports popular systems like D&D and Pathfinder, and Astral can support virtually any tabletop roleplaying game. Get started quickly with built-in support for most popular game systems. Whether you’re brand new to TTRPGs or a veteran tabletop gamer, Astral‘s ease-of-use and built in automation is designed to streamline gameplay.

Astral is browser-based and uses the latest technology to streamline your storytelling experience. Connect with your party online and run your campaigns however you like. Astral offers tools optimized for phone, tablet, and desktop devices, no installation required.

Build epic battlemaps using Astral‘s enormous collection of scenery, props, and tokens or upload your own. Pro users gain access to over 12,000+ assets and fresh new packs every month. Add weather, visual effects, triggers, and so much more with easy-to-use tools

Build your own adventure, or choose from pre-generated game kits like Gauntlet of Spiragos. Create character sheets, craft maps, or just jump right in to connect with your friends and start your adventures!

On Amazon and Barnes & Noble!

You can now read our fiction from the comfort and convenience of your Kindle (from Amazon) and Nook (from Barnes & Noble).

If you enjoy these or any other of our books, please help us by writing reviews on the site of the sales venue from which you bought it. Reviews really, really help us get folks interested in our amazing fiction!

Our selection includes these latest fiction books:

Our Sales Partners!

We’re working with Studio2 to provide our traditionally printed books out into your local game stores. Game stores can order via their usual distributors, and can also contact Studio2 directly. And individuals can check out our projects via the links below!

You can pick up the traditionally printed Pugmire and Monarchies of Mau main books, screens, and the official dice through our friends there! https://studio2publishing.com/search?q=pugmire

Now, we’ve added Chronicles of Darkness books such as Changeling: The Lost Second Edition products to Studio2‘s store! See them here: https://studio2publishing.com/collections/all-products/changeling-the-lost

Scion 2e books and other products are available now at Studio2: https://studio2publishing.com/blogs/new-releases/scion-second-edition-book-one-origin-now-available-at-your-local-retailer-or-online

Our Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition books are also available from Studio2 in the US: https://studio2publishing.com/products/vampire-the-masquerade-chicago-by-night-sourcebook

Looking for our Deluxe or Prestige Edition books? Try this link! http://www.indiepressrevolution.com/xcart/Onyx-Path-Publishing/

And you can order Pugmire, Monarchies of Mau, Cavaliers of Mars, and Changeling: The Lost 2e at the same link! And now Scion Origin and Scion Hero and Trinity Continuum Core and Trinity Continuum: Aeon are available to order

As always, you can find Onyx Path’s titles at DriveThruRPG.com!

On Sale This Week!

This Wednesday, the PDF and physical card PoD versions of three decks of magic Items for use in Scarred Lands go on sale on DTRPG!

Conventions!

Though dates for physical conventions are subject to change due to the current COVID-19 outbreak, here’s what’s left of our current list of upcoming conventions (and really, we’re just waiting for this last one to be cancelled even though it’s Nov/Dec). Instead, keep an eye out here for more virtual conventions we’re going to be involved with:

PAX Unplugged: https://unplugged.paxsite.com/

We’re still waiting on word for this one, as a TTRPG publisher we weren’t included in the companies contacted for PAX‘s virtual con replacing their usual electronic gaming con(s).

And now, the new project status updates!

Development Status from Eddy Webb! (Projects in bold have changed status since last week.):

First Draft (The first phase of a project that is about the work being done by writers, not dev prep.)

Exalted Essay Collection (Exalted)

The Devoted Companion (Deviant: The Renegades)

Prometheus Unbound (was Psi Orders) (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

No Gods, No Masters (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion Fiction Anthology (Scion 2nd Edition)

TC: Aeon Novella: Dawn (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

TC: Aeon Novella: Meridian (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Legacies of Earth (Legendlore)

Redlines

Dragon-Blooded Novella #2 (Exalted 3rd Edition)

CtL 2e Novella Collection: Hollow Courts (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

Squeaks In The Deep (Realms of Pugmire)

Trinity Continuum: Anima

Second Draft

Many-Faced Strangers – Lunars Companion (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Hundred Devil’s Night Parade (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Novas Worldwide (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Exalted Essence Edition (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Saints and Monsters (Scion 2nd Edition)

M20 Technocracy Operative’s Dossier (Mage: The Ascension 20th Anniversary)

Wild Hunt (Scion 2nd Edition)

Adversaries of the Righteous (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Development

TC: Aberrant Reference Screen (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Across the Eight Directions (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Contagion Chronicle: Global Outbreaks (Chronicles of Darkness)

Exigents (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Assassins (Trinity Continuum Core)

Kith and Kin (Changeling: The Lost 2e)

V5 Forbidden Religions (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Adventure! core (Trinity Continuum: Adventure!)

M20 Rich Bastard’s Guide To Magick (Mage: The Ascension 20th Anniversary)

Manuscript Approval

Crucible of Legends (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Dystopia Rising: Evolution Fiction Anthology (Dystopia Rising: Evolution)

Contagion Chronicle Ready-Made Characters (Chronicles of Darkness)

The Clades Companion (Deviant: The Renegades)

V5 Children of the Blood (was The Faithful Undead) (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Post-Approval Development

M20 Victorian Mage (Mage: the Ascension 20th Anniversary Edition)

Mission Statements (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Editing

Lunars Novella (Rosenberg) (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition core rulebook (Mummy: The Curse 2nd Edition)

Player’s Guide to the Contagion Chronicle (Chronicles of Darkness)

TC: Aberrant Jumpstart (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

LARP Rules (Scion 2nd Edition)

The Book of Lasting Death (Mummy: The Curse 2e)

Scion: Dragon (Scion 2nd Edition)

Scion: Demigod (Scion 2nd Edition)

Dearly Bleak – Novella (Deviant: The Renegades)

N!ternational Wrestling Entertainment (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Under Alien Skies (Trinity Continuum: Aeon)

Dead Man’s Rust (Scarred Lands)

V5 Trails of Ash and Bone (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Post-Editing Development

W20 Shattered Dreams Gift Cards (Werewolf: The Apocalypse 20th)

Cults of the Blood Gods (Vampire: The Masquerade 5th Edition)

Hunter: The Vigil 2e core (Hunter: The Vigil 2nd Edition)

Trinity Continuum: Aberrant core (Trinity Continuum: Aberrant)

Deviant: The Renegades (Deviant: The Renegades)

Legendlore core book (Legendlore)

One Foot in the Grave Jumpstart (Geist: The Sin-Eaters 2e)

Masks of the Mythos (Scion 2nd Edition)

They Came From Beyond the Grave! (They Came From!)

Heirs to the Shogunate (Exalted 3rd Edition)

Indexing

Art Direction from Mike Chaney!

In Art Direction

Tales of Aquatic Terror – AD’d.

WoD Ghost Hunters (KS) – KS page to Paradox for approval.

Hunter: The Vigil 2e

Mummy 2

Deviant – AD’d.

Legendlore

Technocracy Reloaded – AD’d.

Cults of the Blood God – Artists chugging along.

Scion: Dragon (KS)

Masks of the Mythos (KS) – Fulls recontracted.

Scion: Demigod (KS)

They Came From Beyond the Grave! (KS)

TC: Adventure! (KS)

Geist: One Foot In the Grave – Artists are working.

Contagion Chronicle Jumpstart (Chronicles of Darkness) – Breakdown brokedown.

In Layout

Yugman’s Guide to Ghelspad

Vigil Watch

Trinity Core Jumpstart

Aberrant – Layout done with the power section. Art still coming in.

Proofing

Cavaliers of Mars: City of the Towered Tombs

Yugman’s Guide Support Decks (Scarred Lands)

TC Aeon Terra Firma – Sent back to Josh, looking good.

V5 Let the Streets Run Red – 2nd proof out this week.

At Press

TCFBTS Screen and Booklet – Files at press.

They Came from Beneath the Sea! – Shipping from printer to KS fulfiller.

Pirates of Pugmire – Shipping from printer to KS fulfiller.

Pirates of Pugmire Screen – Files at press.

Dark Eras 2 – Files printing.

Dark Eras 2 Screen and booklet – Files at press.

Contagion Chronicle – Press prep, PoD files uploaded and ordered.

Contagion Chronicle Screen and Booklet – Files at press.

Lunars Wall Scroll Map – Shipping to KS fulfiller from printer.

Lunars Screen and Booklet – Files at press.

Lunars: Fangs at the Gate – Prepping files for PoD and press.

Scarred Lands Creature Collection – Shipping from printer to KS fulfiller.

Sunken Bones – Pugmire pirate adventure – Errata collecting from Backer PDF.

Titanomachy – Errata collecting from Advance PDF.

Magic Item Decks 1-3 (Scarred Lands) – PDF and PoD card versions on sale at DTRPG and DriveThruCards this Wednesday!

Today’s Reason to Celebrate!

Labor Day! Traditional end of Summer and start of the school year holiday in the US. Except, of course, now the school year starts before Labor Day and anyway, everybody is in virtual school, and Get Off My Lawn!

#Onyx Path Publishing

1 note · View note

millerflintstone · 5 years

Text

For the week

Kept a running total of things the QA person has done that have been irritating this week. I’m sure something else will pop up for today, but this is it so far. She is in her mid 50s and has commented on how young most of her co-workers are. I can’t tell if this is just how she is or how much if it is trying to get back in the swing of things from being off while she recovered from a gastric bypass in terms of quality of work. Her personality is a bit grating.

Monday:

Remotes into her PC from home since she’s working from home. She shut down her PC on Friday instead of just logging off and could not get anyone to turn it back on for her until 10am today

Instead of telling the BA that runs the daily status meeting her status, sends me an IM with her status. I told her to just tell the BA because I’m not involved with how she documents our updates. She replied with, “I thought you guys might still be in the meeting.” I told her we weren’t.

Did not read the email I sent out to her and the analysts helping her enter data for the scenarios we’re testing with the vendor. In the email, I asked her to re-label certain scenarios as ‘re-test’ for today’s file we sent to the vendor that contains the data the vendor loads into their system. Proceeds to send an email out to everyone on the testing call that she has no updates even though we discussed on Friday what we were sending on Monday and DIDN’T READ MY FUCKING EMAIL.

Tuesday

She forgot to attach the scenario document to the email she sent out to the folks on the call on Monday night. I had nothing to review to spot check the file before asking our Ops team to FTP it this morning. I knew 2 ids that were going to be re-added so I checked for them on the file before asking Ops to FTP.

This morning, she emailed out the document twice. Then she sent a separate email to me, the Business Analyst who is covering for the Project Manager, and the HR Analyst that works for the vendor. The message was for the vendor’s analyst and the message was - “The new and re-test scenarios should work today”. Umm...what? And what if they don’t work for whatever reason? I was really confused as to why she felt she needed to send that message out just to the vendor, me and the BA. No one replied back to her that I’m aware of.

IM’ed me to ask if we’ve received results from the vendor’s analyst yet. Email works the same for everyone, man. I ignored the IM this time instead of replying and feeding into whatever behavior this is.

Wednesday

I had not specifically told her when I was out next week but she assumed it was tomorrow, Friday and all of next week. When I told her the dates, she replied, “Phew for me. Boo hoo for you”. I didn’t respond to this one either. What would one even say?

Thursday

Approval from QA is due at 2pm CDT today for any changes being to deployed. Our testing meeting is at 1pm. During the testing meeting she sends me this IM -”Shhhh don’t tell anyone on this call. I’m making my manager tell the BA and PM that I have been pulled off for a high priority project at least for today????”

What the ever-loving fuck?

I told her this is also a high priority project and that I was confused as to why this was happening. The short story is she fucked up and forgot to do the work on another project and now she is the bottleneck there. The other folks on the ticket won’t approve my change without QA approval.

Friday

I did get my QA approval. However, she missed 4 files that I had listed in the QA checklist that somehow did not get into source code control. I’m stumped as to how that happened on my end. Irritated that QA missed it. It was fixed but it’s just another damn thing.

Has this habit of replying on an email chain about a COMPLETELY different topic which is confusing. She did that about being a backup on my stuff while I’m out for a thing that is no longer active and I forced her to clarify on the email chain. Then I changed the subject of the email chain and added in the correct people. I mean, she removed other people from her reply that didn’t need to be in the know. How hard is it to create a new email with a relevant subject line?

Whenever we have a meeting together, she sends me an IM letting me know she is in the meeting. We use Webex. You can see when people join in and when they have audio attached. Today I told her, “Yup. That’s what the participant list shows” I’m not sure if she picked up on that

#QA= quality assurance

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ourdallasvideofestthings · 5 years

Photo

Bart Chat 10/1/19 Greetings all, Docufest is coming and last week in Bart Chat I went over the Thursday and Friday night programs. Today I will go over the rest of the festival. If you missed last week here is the summary-- link here. We begin Saturday morning at noon with White Right: Meeting the Enemy, where Emmy award-winning Muslim filmmaker, Deeyah Khan, interviews Leaders of US Neo-Nazis and white supremacists. She bluntly asks them why they hate her and the results are surprising and powerful. After that, perhaps the craziest film in the lot is Mr. Toilet: The Words No.2 Man about Jack Sim who has dedicated his life to global sanitation in the form of getting the third world to buy toilets. This film is a memorable, fun and insightful journey into the life of this endearing character who goes to India and China from his World Toilet Organization to spread the word. Then at 3:00 PM, we are excited to show Ernie and Joe, a film I have been excited about for a long time. We keep hearing about mental health as it relates to gun violence, but often police escalate violence with the mentally ill. The City of San Antonio’s Police department started a unit to approach these mental health issues differently. We get to know officers Ernie and Joe and see how they interact with citizens to descalate violence. Dallas has a unit of their own and we hope to have a representative at the screening. Then, we have our one and only documentary short compilations include, Mr. Zoot Suit and a documentary called Lilly, about a woman who escaped the Nazis in Vienna, was a pioneer of the Golden Age of Comics and is a great storyteller. There are many others including a film called, A Film Crew Censors Itself. After that, we have Karen Kramer’s, Renegade Voices, a look at political activism on the streets of New York now and in the ’60s, following poet and folk musicians who follow in the footsteps of Dylan and Ginsberg who use their guitars and words to bring about change. (Great archival footage and great characters.) Ahhhh, we end Saturday evening with an evening with the great Chuck Workman. For those who were at last year’s Docufest, you might remember his short film called Moments in Truth, which is a short history of documentary film. If you have seen montages on The Oscars that were inspiring and blew your mind, it was created by Chuck Workman. Chuck is the master of montage: he finds the soul of his subject, matches the soundtrack to drive it and helps us feel these genre or filmmakers or film movements. We will be showing four of his montages, the one about documentaries that I mentioned, one about tubings bunny named Bug, one about Politics in Film and his Oscar award-winning Precise Images. AND THEN, we are showing his film about Andy Warhol called Superstar: The Life and Time of Andy Warhol. This is an evening NOT TO BE MISSED. On Sunday, we start the day with Alternative Facts: The Lives of Executive Order 9066. It’s about the WW2 incarceration of Japanese Americans living here in the United States. This is a story I have heard about, but only briefly. Next, we have Letter to the Editor, a new film by Alan Berliner. I have been a big fan of his since 1996. His films Nobody’s Business, The Sweetest Sound, Wide Awake, and First Cousin Once Removed is intricately crafted portraits of his family and of himself. Berliner is a hoarder of images, sound, and video and he has a way of putting them together, just as brilliantly as Chuck Workman, but in a different way. Any chance to see a Berliner film is a treat. This is followed by Citizen Blue, a film about a great filmmaker who very few people know about that will no doubt inspire. James Blue is most known for making The March, a film about the Civil Rights demonstration on Washington. If you have seen footage of this event, it is probably from this film, but this is just the tip of the iceberg. He made inspiring narrative films and then came to Texas to start The Rice Media Center and The Southwest Alternative Media Project, known as SWAMP. Both organizations are still in effect in Houston and do similar work to VideoFest. After this, we have Beyond the Bolex. If you have never heard of the Bolex, it is a small, spring-wound 16MM camera that was the staple of independent and experimental filmmakers in the ’60s and 70’s and heck, people still use them. When Alyssa Bolex was in film school, she discovered that her great-grandfather was the inventor of the Bolex, so she goes on a hunt to discover what happened in his life from Russia to Switzerland, how he finally landed in the USA, invented the Bolex and what happened after that. In between, we hear from and see work from important filmmakers who used the Bolex and how it influenced their work. (There is even a sequence with Barbra Hammer---see above ) Later on Sunday, we are showing After Munich. In the 1972 Olympics in Munich, the Black September moment updated 11 Israeli hostages which the world watched live on TV. In this powerful documentary, we hear from four women, an athlete, a widow, and two undercover agents. We wrap up docufest with Tattoo Uprising by Dallas renaissance man, Alan Govenar. This film is playing to large crowds right now in New York and elsewhere and we finally get to screen it here in Dallas. Alan started on his film journey with Stony Knows How about a crusty tattoo artist in 1980. (It is great to see a young Govenar). In the film, we get to meet the great Tatoo Artist Ed Hardy, the aforementioned Stony St. Clair, Cynthia Witkin, and Calamity Jane. But perhaps the best moments in the film is when filmmaker Les Blank and Werner Hertzog compare tattoos. Also this week, we have a great episode of Frame of Mind. To go along with DocuFest we have a selection of Texas short films. Paul Steckler who is a great documentary filmmaker and professor at UT in Austin made this compelling short about Molly and Ann, that would be Molly Ivins and Ann Richards--Molly the journalist/columnist, who made covering the Texas fun and insightful and Ann Richards our former governor. Then Rania Elmalky’s 489 Day presents Mohamed Soltan’s life through animation Unbound is about human trafficking and Kolache, Texas is about the famous Czech Stop in the town of West, Texas. I know you have passed it on I35 and wanted to stop in, and after seeing this, you definitely will need to experience the pastries there. Reel Texas: Real Characters at 10:00 PM, Thursday on KERA. And that is it. So much to see in four days Truth being told in 30 frames a second in 4 days in Dallas, Texas--be there! If any of you want more info on any of these films, email me at [email protected]. Bart Weiss Artistic Director Dallas VideoFest

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deamstellarus · 6 years

Text

A Touch of Ink (5)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Date Attempt #2

Word Count: 4604

Warnings: Uhm, fluff and some maybe intense-ish (not really) kissing?

A/N: I’m gonna be honest, I don’t know how I feel about this chapter. I rambled a bit and some parts aren’t really necessary but it is what it is I suppose. Next chapter will be super fluffy though!

Series Masterlist | Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4

Chapter 5:

“I should probably get going soon,” you said, still straddling his lap with your head lying on his shoulder. “You probably have an early morning.”

He hugged you to him a little tighter then relaxed his hold on you. This close you could see the shades of blue that made up his eyes, the ring of navy that outline his irises, the flecks of grey with tiny specks of green. You could get lost in them. He leaned forward and kissed your cheek.

“Thank you, for going with the change of plans,” he smiled. “How about we try again next week? I mean, how quickly could Becs be sick again right?” He chuckled.

“That’s true. But really, it’s not a big deal, Buck.” You kiss him on the nose, then got off of him and the couch to stand. You adjusted your shirt while Bucky stood up. You grabbed your keys and phone off the counter before turning back to him. He stood by the door with his hands in his pockets, head down with a hint of a smile on his face. You walked back to him.

“I'll see you tomorrow, maybe?” you asked. His head popped up.

“Yeah, of course. I'll text you...or call you. Whichever you prefer.” You couldn't help but giggle at his nervousness.

“I'll see you tomorrow then.” He wrapped his arms around you for the second time that night, and pulled you into his embrace. A few moments later, he reluctantly released you and opened the door. You gave him one last smile before slipping through and heading for the stairwell, hearing the door close behind you.

As you walked down the hall, you ran into a wall of muscle. You looked up into the face of Steve, who seemed exhausted.

“Sorry, Steve. Didn't see you there. Long day?”

“Yeah, it’s been- wait, weren’t you supposed to have a date with Bucky tonight?” You couldn’t stop the smile on your face when you nodded. “Well, that’s great!”

Steve pulled you into a side hug before he yawned and practically unhinged his jaw. You laughed.

“Get some sleep Steve.” You gave him a little push toward his door. “Have a good night.”

You unlocked your own door, and once inside, leaned against it. Your mind ran through the “date” and you couldn’t help but smile. You loved everything about it. Unconventional first date, sure, but Bucky is wonderful and Noah is adorable and you honestly couldn’t wait for your next date.

You went to bed with a smile on your face.

“Y/N! I’m so sorry your date had to be cancelled the other day!” Becca caught you the moment you walked into the bookstore. “I was just so sick on Wednesday. It’s not his fault. You should give him another cha-”

“Becca, calm down,” you interrupted. “We still had our date. It was just a date for three instead of two.”

“Oh. Oh.” Becca’s eyes were wide. “Well that’s...that’s really great, Y/N. How was it?”

“It was really nice. Bucky cooked. We had lasagna, and afterward we played with Noah and watched a kids’ movie before Noah went to bed. It was all very sweet.”

“Aww! And after Noah went to bed?” Becca quirked an eyebrow at you.

“We talked. Mostly about our pasts. I learned about Dot? She seemed amazing.”

“She was.” Becca said, a distant look in her eye.

“He told me how she died… and how her family treats him and Noah.”

Since that night, you couldn't help but be heartbroken, not only for Bucky, but for Noah. He's so young, and to have a family that will not put aside differences to visit him is so sad. Luckily, he has a good family here, made up of members of this quiet little town.

“They're...something else.” Becca shook her head to clear it. “Well I'm glad you had a good time. Are you seeing each other again soon?”

“Yup! We talked about trying again next week? And meeting up when we can before that.”

“I knew you'd be perfect together!” Becca gushed.

“Slow down there. We’re not officially together or anything. I think we're taking it slow? Just dating for now.”

“But you like him?” she asked. The warmth had returned to your cheeks.

“Yeah, I like him. I really do.” Becca grinned at you.

“So are you in for coffee or books today?” You’d almost forgotten why you were at the Hideout in the first place.

“I’m actually here for a little research. I’m trying to find books about fantasy and myths?”

“Oh? What are you doing that requires that kind of research?”

“It’s for a project I’m working on. I could just as easily look up references and whatnot on the internet, but I like to find books on the topics sometimes. A bit of history to get a better understanding of the subject.”

“Huh. Whelp, the selection is kind of small, but it would be this way. Follow me.” Becca came around out from behind the counter and you followed her down one of the aisles. She stopped abruptly in the middle of a bookcase. “These top three rows are pretty much all we have on folklore and fantasy and myths, that aren’t exclusively in the children’s section.

“That’s alright. Thanks so much Becca!” She left and you browsed through the selection until you found a large book with a red spine. Fairy Tales, Folk Lores, and Myths: The Guide to Another Realm. Huh. Pretty cheesy title, but as you flipped through the pages, there were visual references as well as elaborate stories and tales about magic, adventure, and love. You didn’t know how long you were sat on the floor thumbing through the pages until someone startled you. Becca giggled.

“Sorry! I’m going to grab some lunch, so I’m going to close the store for a bit. Want to come with me?”

“Lunch?” You checked at your phone for the time and realized it was already past noon. “Oh wow, I didn’t think I’d been here that long. Sure, I probably should eat something before I starve.”

“Sam never said you were dramatic.”

“That’s because he’s always been the bigger drama queen and he knows it.” She held out a hand to help you off the floor, and your bones ached as you stood up. Your muscles were sore. “Wow, remind me not to do that again,” you laughed.

“Sure thing. Come on.”

The two of you went over to Tony’s, where Wanda was your waitress. She practically squealed when you came in.

“Oh! How was the date? Give me all the details! Don’t leave anything out! Please? Aren’t we friends, Y/N?” She pouted with the biggest green puppy eyes you’d ever seen.

“Yes, fine, sure.” You laughed at Wanda took a seat next to Becca in the booth. “Well, it was nice. Bucky cooked dinner, and it was delicious. Then we watched a kids’ movie and played with Noah until it was his bedtime. And then we talked. About our pasts and whatnot. And then we kissed.”

“What?” both exclaimed simultaneously.

“What do you mean you played with Noah until bedtime? I thought Becca was babysitting him?” Wanda said, leaning forward and pouting in frustration.

“She was really sick, and he couldn’t find another babysitter on such short notice.”

“And you were okay with that?”

“Honestly? Yeah. I like Noah a lot and he’s not rowdy or obnoxious. He’s sweet and loves his dad. It was a nice dinner.”

“You didn’t tell me you kissed, Y/N,” Becca said, her face unreadable.

“Sorry. Is that a problem?”

“Um, not really? It’s more surprising than anything else. Bucky hasn’t kissed anyone since Dot.” Your eyes went wide at that. “He’s been on dates before but they never went very far, and certainly didn’t generate enough chemistry to kiss.”

“Oh. Well, I don’t know. In the moment, it just felt right. I really like him, guys.” They had matching soft eyes and smiles on their faces.

“That’s great, Y/N. I think Bucky really likes you too,” Becca said as she reached across the tale and put a hand over yours.

“Yeah, it’s pretty obvious with the way he makes heart eyes at you,” Wanda giggled. Becca checked her watch.

“Hey, let’s order something. I have to get back to the shop soon.” You both ordered and soon your food arrived. Halfway through your meal, Becca placed a to-go order. You looked at her questioningly.

“This is for Bucky. I usually bring him lunch on Fridays and he brings me lunch on Mondays. We’ve done this since he started at Black Widow, when he forgot to bring food and he was super busy one Friday afternoon, so like the perfect sister I am,” you rolled your eyes at that, “I brought him lunch. The following Monday, I was really grumpy because it was raining and I had a headache and he saw me through the window looking otherwise... pathetic, I’ll admit it. I hate Mondays and the rain just messes with my mood. Anyway, he saw me and brought me lunch and it did cheer me up, and the habit kind of just stuck.”

“That’s really sweet, Becs.”

“Yeah, yeah. Well I love him. We were really close as kids, even when he started highschool and I was still in 4th grade. He never really excluded me and let me join him and his friends when they played football and stuff in the backyard, and let me come with them when they went out to get ice cream during the summer. We’ve always been close. Me and Steve too, to be honest. They’ve been best friends since they were in diapers, and I basically grew up with him too. It’s like I have a second brother.” She rolled her eyes at the grin on your face. “Anyway, let’s get going. He’s probably starving. It’s a tad later than I usually drop off his food.”

The two of you went to the counter and paid for your food, then headed across the street to the tattoo shop. On the way there though, an older woman stopped Becca, frantic about how some book on crocheting plush toys lied to her or something and she needed a new gift for her grandson. Becca tried to calm her down, but it wasn’t an easy feat.

“Hey Y/N, will you run this in to Buck? I gotta go help Mrs. Mugillicutty before she has a heart attack,” Becca said, handing you over the bag of food. Without waiting for a response, she left you to calm down the old women.

“Sure Becs, no problem,” you muttered under your breath. You stopped in front of the shop. You couldn’t see Bucky from the window. He must be in the back or something. There didn’t appear to be anyone else was there but Bucky would be expecting Becca to bring him lunch, right? You steeled your nerves that came out of nowhere and pushed open the shop door. A little bell overhead rang out as you entered.

“I’ll be with you in a minute!” A voice from the back called out.

You took the opportunity to wander around the tattoo parlor. There was a sitting area in the front that consisted of a couch and a couple chairs, and a coffee table with magazines. The front desk had a big binder flipped open to a couple elaborate tattoo designs. As you got closer, you heard...snoring? You peaked your head behind the desk and were greeted with the sleepy face of a yellow lab. He reminded you of your family dog back home. Ahead of your were two tattoo stations with chairs that reminded you of a dentist seat. At the station you saw Bucky at that first night, there were papers with hand-drawn designs on a corkboard on the wall. You took a step closer to the drawings when one caught your eye. It was one of the few that was drawn with ink instead of graphite. It was a mandala, but it was formed out of flower petals compared to the geometric shapes you’ve seen before.

“Hey, Becs. Sorry, I wa-.” Bucky stopped mid-sentence. The grin on his face when he saw you initiated the butterflies in your stomach. “Y/N! What are you doing here? Not that I’m not happy to see you.”

“Hi. I uhm… Becca! She sent me over with this.” You handed him the bag from Tony’s and watched as his eyes lit up.

“Oh my gosh. Thanks! I’m starving. Noah was slow getting up this morning and I barely got him out the door with breakfast, but I didn’t have any time to eat something myself..”

“Oh, well I’m happy I could bring it over.”

“I’m happy to see you again.” He set the bag down on the stool at his station, then turned back to you, reaching out to hold your hand. “I had a good time the other night.”

“Me too.” You couldn’t stop the smile on your face.

“Honestly, I don’t want to wait until Wednesday to see you again. How about tomorrow night? My parents could probably watch Noah. What do you say?” You were almost distracted by the twinkle in his eye.

“Tomorrow is perfect.”

“Great!” He pulled you into him and kissed your forehead, just as you heard the bell over the door ring.

“Hey! Get a room!” Clint said, walking in with Natasha. He went over to the dog you’d seen earlier, with a small to-go bag in his hand. The dog got up and his tail wagged like crazy. Clint pulled a slice of pizza out of the bag, holding in front of the dog’s face for a moment before it was snatched out of his hand. The dog went back to the dog bed and happily chewed on the pizza.

“Is that good for him?” you asked.

“Who, Lucky? Lucky loves pizza. It’s how I found him, by the harbour, eating pizza from an abandoned box behind the pizzeria.

“Huh. He’s cute,” you said, slightly concerned for his eating habits, but he seemed happy and content so who were you to judge.

“Oh he’s the best!”

“What brings you here?” Natasha said.

“Oh! Just brought him lunch, from Becca.” Natasha hummed in response then turned and headed to the back of the store..

“I don’t think she likes me very much,” you whispered to Bucky. He laughed in response.

“She’s like that to most people. She’s actually pretty nice, and fiercely loyal. She just comes off a bit rough. If she didn’t like you, you’d know it.”

Oh. “Okay, well I’ll let you get back to lunch and work!” You went on your tiptoes and kissed his cheek.

“See you tomorrow, Y/N.”

“Yeah, see you tomorrow!”

“So what do you think?”

“This place is beautiful in the moonlight.”

You and Bucky were walking hand in hand down the boardwalk. You’d just had dinner at a little restaurant by the harbour. The dinner was nice, but the company was better. Bucky’s hand found yours multiple times throughout the night and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d laughed so much. He insisted on paying the bill when it came, but when he suggested getting ice cream on the boardwalk afterward, you slipped the cashier the money before he could. “Fair is Fair,” you’d told him. With ice cream in hand, the two of you strolled by the boats in the harbour, looking out at the water. The waves were smaller than when you’d seen them in the daytime and the water seemed to be glittering.

“I can’t believe you grew up with this just outside your door. Well, essentially.” Bucky chuckled.

“Yeah, it was great. Becca and I rode out on my dad’s boat practically every other weekend.” His thumb drew circles on your hand as he held it. “I could take you out on the water sometime if you’d like.”

“Really? That’d be amazing!”

You stood at the end of the dock by the lighthouse for a while until a breeze blew by, causing a shiver to run up your spine. Bucky noticed and shrugged off his leather jacket, placing it on your shoulders. You slipped your arms into the sleeves and were instantly surrounded by the smell of leather, sandalwood, and… Bucky. You burrowed yourself into the jacket as much as you could, savoring the warmth. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“Let’s get you back home. It’s pretty chilly out here.”

When you arrived back at your apartment building, you waited for the elevator to come down to the first floor.

“I’m not ready for the night to end just yet,” you said, gazing up into his eyes.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Uhm.. do you want to come back to my place? I have some wine and beer, or coffee and tea, if you’d like.” You hoped you didn’t sound too eager.

“Yes!” He blurted. He coughed, clearing his throat. “I mean, yeah, that’d be great.” Once inside your apartment, you told him to make himself at home. “What would you like to drink?”

“You don’t have to make anything special for me, just whatever you’re having.”

When you came back into the living room, Bucky was looking at the pictures on your wall. There was a photograph of you and Sam from when you were about four and Sam was seven, posing in your Halloween costumes. You’d gone as Minnie and Mickey that year for the annual Halloween party your mom throws. You handed him the bug of tea and he thanked you.

“You were adorable!”

“Were? Am I not adorable now?” You quipped back, quirking your eyebrow at him. Bucky’s eyes went wide, and his mouth opened and closed several times like a fish.

“I’m just kidding Bucky. I’ll admit, Sammy and I were pretty cute kids,” you said, taking a seat on the couch.

“I’d say you’re pretty cute now,” he said as he sat next to you. He put his mug on the coffee table and placed his arm on the back of the couch behind you. You took a tip of your tea, then set your mug on the coffee table.

“Well aren’t you sweet.”

He glanced at your lips before looking back into your eyes. Before you knew it, you were leaning into each other and your lips connected. His lips were warm, much like the first time you’d kissed a few days earlier. Unlike the first time though, this kiss was thorough and you melted into it. You cupped his face with your hands, fingers grazing the scruff on his face. His arms went around your waist, holding you to him. His strong hands lifted you from your position beside him to seat you on his lap, legs straddling his thighs. A position you noticed he prefered. His fingers gripped your hips, not too tight to leave a mark, but enough to let him feel in control. You pulled away for a second, gasping for breath as you remembered you had to breathe. You rested your forehead to his, peeking at his closed eyes. You held onto his shoulders as he let go of you and leaned forward to take off his button up and throw it over the arm of the couch, which left him in a dark t-shirt that showed off his tattoos. His eyes finally met yours again and you could see some hesitance of what you were doing. You ran a hand through his chestnut hair.

“We can just keep doing this, we don’t have to go any further. This is plenty for now, alright?” You kissed his cheek. “Is this okay?” you whispered, hoping that you hadn’t crossed some line or pushed him too far.

He nodded, grinning back at you. “More than okay.”

You bent your head down and he reached up, his lips captured your once again.

“Have you ever thought of getting one?”

You were lying together on your couch, your head on his chest. His arm was around you, his thumb drawing circles onto your side through your shirt.

“One what?” you asked, tilting your head up to see his face.

“A tattoo. When I found you in the shop yesterday, you were looking at some of the designs I’ve done for people. Have you ever thought of getting one yourself?

“To be honest, I have, once or twice. But I’m too scared. Not of needles or anything, just the pain. My tolerance is not the highest and I bruise easy.” Bucky hummed at your response. “But I have imagined getting something that was drawn for me, you know? Like a unique piece that had a meaning behind it or connected me to someone.” You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe someday I’ll get something.”

“Well, when you do decide to get one, I’d be thrilled to do the honors.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else to do it.” You pulled his arm around you a bit more to get a closer look at the images.

“If you wanted to see them, you could've just asked.” He laughed softly.

He turned in his spot, holding you by your arms to sit you up with him. He took off the t-shirt he was wearing and you gasped slightly at his bare skin. You reached out and lightly traced the edge of where the sleeve began at the top of his shoulder. A green and red dragon curled its way down half the length of Bucky’s arm, with its curved neck at his shoulder. The skin there was a little bumpy compared to the smoothness a couple inches underneath it.

“That's part of the scar. When I decided I wanted something to cover the scars, I told Stevie I wanted something that would cover a large majority in one go. He came back a couple days later with the dragon. He’d really gotten into art history in high school and drew in all different styles he read about on the internet. I guess the dragon was something that stuck in his mind because it ended up working perfectly and Nat did a great job.”

On the underside of his forearm, a set of three red roses bloomed on his skin, textured and made to appear real. You traced your fingertips around the green leaves filling out the empty spaces.

“Roses were Dot’s favorite. She used to say, ‘I know they’re overrated but they smell so nice.’ It seemed like a less cheesy way to remember her, you know?” You hummed in agreement.

On the inside of his bicep, just below the dragon’s head, was the phrase, “‘Till the end of the line,” written in a pretty script that contrasted with the other colorful designs on his skin.

“It's something Steve and I used to say to each other. It meant that we’d always have each others’ backs. You wouldn't believe me, looking at him now, but Steve was a tiny kid and got picked on a lot by the older kids, and stuck up for others who got bullied. They'd knock him down and he’d get right back up again with bruises already forming and a cut lip. So I'd jump in because he's my best friend and I can't let him get beat up alone. Then when we both joined the firehouse, it meant even more in the field. Steve has a matching one on his right bicep actually. It was one of the first tattoos I ever did, but it’s technically Steve’s handwriting.”

“‘Till the end of the line.’ I like that. Feels nostalgic somehow,” you said. “Can’t really imagine Steve as anything close to tiny though.”

You turned his arm over to look at the last tattoo that took up the majority of the front of his forearm. It was of ocean waves, rough and choppy with a lighthouse in the background.

“This one isn’t as sentimental as the others. I’ve always loved the water though, I grew up on it, so I like having it permanently a part of me. The lighthouse though is the same one down by the harbor. Lights the way home, my dad would say. Stevie drew something similar to this one day and I knew I wanted it on my arm.”

“Wow, it seems like Steve has drawn most of your tattoos.”

“Well he is the better artist. He’s been drawing as long as I could remember. There used to be a time where you couldn’t find him without his sketchbook nearby.”

“Well, I appreciate his artistic eye,” you said. You laid back down on the couch together, your body snuggled into his side. In the silence, with your head on his chest, you could hear his heart beating fast.

“Do they bother you? The tattoos, or even the scars?” When you glanced at him, you could tell he was nervous about your answer.

“I think they're all beautiful, James. I think anyone who thinks differently is wrong,” you whispered, not wanting to break the comfortable quiet you were in. You caressed his chest absent-mindedly.

“I haven’t really dated since the accident,” Bucky said. “Nat and Stevie have tried to set me up with people before. To “get back out there” they said, but it never worked out. I would go out on the date, usually meeting them at Tony’s but by halfway through dinner, I’d want to leave. I found myself comparing them to Dot, their personalities, how they laughed, what they looked like, what their interests were. Sometimes, they’d see the tattoos and would judge me, not openly talking about them, but they’d eye the bits of ink peeking out from my shirtsleeve and a look of disgust would flash across their face before they corrected it. And then there’s the fact that I have Noah, and what young person wants to be in a relationship with a man who already has a son? By the end of the night... I would feel awful. I would feel like I wasted their time, and mine…” He took a deep breath, but when he exhaled, it was shaky. “The worst part was that I felt like I was cheating on Dot. Like what I was doing, dating other people, was seen as trying to replace her.”

“Oh James…” You stroked the side of his neck.

“She was the love of my life, the mother of my son. I felt like I was...was disgracing her memory or something.”

His arms around your waist tensed for a moment before they loosened. You leaned back in his hold to look up at his face. His hand went to your cheek, thumb absently brushing your skin as he stared into your eyes.

“But then I met you. Well, heard about you first, briefly, from an energetic six year old.” He chuckled. “But when I first met you at the Hideout? I think I even surprised myself that day how at ease I was and comfortable I felt around you.” He leaned forward and kissed your forehead. “I don’t want to scare you, or put too much on you...I know I have a lot of baggage...but I like you. And I think you like me too.” You rolled your eyes at that but smiled at him. “I don't want to rush into things, but I’d really like to see where this goes. I guess what I’m trying to say is, will you be my girl?”

[Chapter 6]

#Bucky Barnes x Reader #Modern AU #TattooArtist!Bucky #Fluff #Tooth-Rotting Fluff #a bit of angst #and more fluff #avengers fic #marvel fanfiction #A Touch of Ink

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