#how to become a travel agent without experience

[travelpronews]

How to Become a Travel Agent without Experience in 8 Steps

The travel industry is a vibrant and exciting one, with endless opportunities for those who love to explore new destinations and help others plan their dream vacations.

And becoming a travel agent is a great opportunity to turn your passion for travel into a lucrative profession.

But what if you don't have any experience in the travel industry?

Don't worry, it's still possible to become a successful travel agent with no prior experience. Here's how:

LEARN ABOUT THE TRAVEL INDUSTRY:

 Before you begin your journey to becoming a travel agent, it's important to have a good understanding of the travel industry. This will help you make informed decisions about the direction you want to take and the types of clients you want to work with.

Start by researching the different types of travel agencies and the services they offer. You can also attend travel industry conferences or take online courses to learn more about the industry.

FIND A MENTOR:

Having a mentor in the travel industry can be invaluable, especially if you have no prior experience. A mentor can provide guidance, support, and advice as you navigate your way through the industry. Look for someone who has experience in the areas you're interested in and who is willing to share their knowledge with you. You can connect with potential mentors through industry associations or online networking groups.

TAKE ONLINE COURSES:

 There are many online courses available that can help you gain the skills and knowledge you need to become a successful travel agent. Look for courses that cover topics such as destination knowledge, customer service, sales, and marketing. You can also take courses on specific travel niches, such as luxury travel or adventure travel, to help you specialize in a particular area.

BUILD YOUR DESTINATION KNOWLEDGE:

 One of the most important skills you'll need as a travel agent is destination knowledge. Clients will look to you for advice on where to go, what to see, and what to do in different destinations. Start by researching popular travel destinations and learning about their culture, history, and attractions. You can also attend destination-specific training programs to deepen your knowledge.

JOIN A HOST AGENCY:

 Joining a host agency can be a great way to get started as a travel agent with no experience. Host agencies provide support, training, and resources to help you build your business. They also provide access to industry suppliers, such as airlines, hotels, and tour operators, which can help you secure better deals for your clients. Look for a host agency that offers comprehensive training programs and ongoing support.

BUILD YOUR ONLINE PRESENCE:

Start by building a professional website that showcases your services and destinations. You can also create social media accounts to connect with potential clients and share your travel expertise. Consider creating a blog where you can share your travel experiences and provide valuable tips and advice to your audience.

NETWORK WITH INDUSTRY PROFESSIONALS:

Networking with industry professionals can help you build relationships and learn from others in the travel industry. Apart from that, you can attend trade shows, conference and other industry events to reach out to your peers, travel agents, tourism boards and suppliers.

OFFER EXCEPTIONAL CUSTOMER SERVICE:

 One of the keys to success as a travel agent is offering exceptional customer service. Take the time to listen to their travel preferences and tailor your recommendations to their needs. Always be available to answer their questions and provide support before, during, and after their trip.

WRAPPING UP… Hope these tips would help you become a travel agent. But keep in mind that becoming a successful travel agent takes time and persistence. Don't expect to build a thriving business overnight. It's important to be patient and do the right things. Best of luck!

How to Become a Travel Agent without Experience

[beaulesbian]

I've been thinking about the Whiskey Peak Luffy vs Zoro fight and how nothing is truly finished or contained within just one arc in One Piece - where the themes and character development always overlap and span over many later arcs as well.

It's an interesting scene, and I feel it's almost impossible to dissect that fight just within that arc alone - like it wasn't meant to be taken seriously by itself at that time, but later with more context of what's to come after that.

A short version: It's a great set up of how the trust between Luffy and Zoro would develop after this fight.

Specifically, how it gets to this in Skypiea:

And a longer version under the read more:

To start at the beginning again - Luffy knew about Zoro's reputation by the time he reached Shells Town and heard about him as Demon Pirate Hunter of the East Blue, and decided to see if he's a good guy to have on his crew.

Once Luffy freed Zoro and they took down Morgan together, they could see how the other was similary strong, as well as they were able to fight in sync and well together, but maybe they still didn't understand how much they could depend on each other.

With Luffy, anyone who offers him food becomes something like his hero. If they offer him hospitality, he would protect them with his life.

With Zoro, he's always looking out for the danger, used to travel alone (or with just Johnny and Yosaku), he does what's needed, and usually without telling the others.

And this is, I think, that crucial moment when they realize this about each other -

Luffy wakes up and sees the people who helped him lying on the ground, and telling him that Zoro was the one who did that. Luffy goes berserk without needing to hear why, because there shouldn't be a reason why. Whatever Zoro tells him must be a lie, right? He must have gone mad.

Maybe if Zoro didn't fight back, Luffy would see something was wrong, but Zoro isn't one to back down from a fight, especially when being falsely accused, and if he saw that Luffy was fighting him for real, he in turn would give him the same courtesy. They're both very stubborn in the same way.

The misunderstanding trope can be a bit annoying, but I think it's all just to see them actually fight together on equal footing. It was one of the first examples of what they can do together.

After this fight, where they defeat the two Baroque Works agents together, and after everything is explained, Luffy understands, in his own way.

When rereading this part of "I thought you got mad (...)", I had a feeling that Luffy might have even think Zoro could become a danger to others and was ready to just.. contain him. He heard about him as a demon pirate hunter - of course, those where a lot of talking from the Marine's side of the story perpetuating the myth of him, Zoro never called himself that and Luffy knows it, but part of me thinks maybe Luffy wouldn't care about that - he just wanted Zoro on his crew no matter what, and would deal with the consequences after that. Like in Whiskey Peak.

But what's even more interesting is, since this fight, they began to understand how they work separately.

I kind of like that they don't come back or talk more about this fight, because once it's done, they're past that. But both take it as a learning experience, Luffy still has a long journey to go as a captain, and I feel with knowing what Zoro does without saying, Luffy began finding the footing as captain with putting this specific trust in Zoro - learning he can fully depend on him to protect their crew when something would be amiss, when some danger would be nearby.

And that despite the sudden fight, the bad communication and the immediate resolve, Zoro sees another most important part of Luffy's character - how far he would go to help someone who offered him food or helped Luffy and his crew. And this knowledge has helped Zoro many times since this arc, in situation where the rest of the crew might not understand Luffy's thinking, Zoro's usually the first one who does understand.

On Jaya, that trust takes the main role when Luffy orders Zoro not to fight Bellamy's crew:

Later on Skypiea Luffy says it out loud how much he trusts Zoro to protect the rest of the crew:

It goes on each arc more and more, subtle but with that trust between them deepening.

With Zoro letting Luffy know being their captain is hard but he cannot falter,

in Post Enies Lobby it's Zoro telling him what rules need to be followed, otherwise the crew would fall apart,

It feels since that Whiskey Peak fight, Zoro really took it onto himself to protect the crew without having to say so, and Luffy understood that's what he does. It's Zoro's instinct to do that - Skypiea protecting Robin and Chopper, Thriller Bark - protecting Brook, saving Sanji and of course Luffy from Kuma. On Punk Hazard, while Luffy is against Ceasar, Zoro fights Monet so Nami and Robin could get away. On Dressrosa his final fight against Pica is to protect Usopp and Kinemon.

I also like this bit on Zou, where Zoro doesn't enjoy the Minks' attention on him, and Luffy reprimands him that it's rude to talk back to someone who's hosting a feast for them. Again, kind of a callback to Whiskey Peak, ch. 807

And then there's whole Wano, with Zoro protecting Tama, Otoko and Yasuie, Hiyori, and it gets very personal when they're hurt.

During Onigashima Raid he keeps reminding Luffy that he would go with him up to the rooftop to fight Kaido, because this time the enemies are too dangerous and he needs to protect Luffy as well. And they both protect each other there:

Conclusion: I love the Whiskey Peak fight now, because it brings up many small details that are so important over the span of many arcs later, slowly showing just how different these two are built and how much trust they learnt to put in the other.

bonus:

On their way to Enies Lobby on the train, this scene looks very similar to their Whiskey Peak fight, except this time they're intentionally using their strengths together against the Aqua Laguna.

Whiskey peak, ch. 112

Water Seven, ch. 367

[quadrantadvisor]

Danny Phantom Crossover Angst Week: Prompt - GIW Experimentation

Fandom: Marvel "Team Red"

Words: 2,550

Read on AO3

The new government offices in the Kitchen were suspicious, simply by virtue how un-suspicious they were. Matt, Foggy, and Karen had poured over their documentation, and found it to be squeaky clean and overly banal. Not that it mattered, really, when Matt was going to stake out their building regardless. Newcomers on his turf had to prove themselves.

Matt didn’t like what he heard.

It may, in fact, be time to call in the cavalry. No matter how deeply, desperately, Matt did not want to do that.

-

“You hear that, Spidey?” Wade Wilson crooned. “Ol’ Hornhead needs our help.”

“Never thought I’d see the day,” Spiderman said mirthfully, shaking his head.

They’d been like this for several minutes. Matt was cataloging and systematically shuffling through his life choices, trying to decide which one in particular led him to this moment (so that if he ever had the opportunity to time travel, he could prevent this.)

“Listen,” he told them. “I called you because I have reason to believe this situation is urgent, but my source has been unable to retrieve certain necessary information.”

“Like what?” Spiderman asked before Deadpool could get a word in edgewise.

“Like the dimensions of the building. I know that they don’t match the official schematics, but not what they actually are.”

“That seems very unlikely,” Wade cut in. “I thought you had like, a psychic connection to every part of your kitchen. How does anyone build something without you knowing about it?”

“I’m not psychic,” Matt deadpanned. Who needed a sixth sense? Matt did just fine with the ones he had. “But the answer is, very carefully.”

“Sure, sure,” Spiderman said. “And what’s the actual emergency?”

“They’re holding someone against their will,” Matt told him, glad to cut to the chase. “I have reason to believe that this person is in a great deal of danger, and has been tortured and experimented on for a significant amount of time.”

“The US government is doing this?” Spiderman asked, surprised. “After how many human rights scandals we’ve had in the past few years? Are they stupid?”

“Yes,” Matt answered immediately. “But there seems to be some question of this person’s level of sentience. My source said the attitude of the agents was, ‘Don’t worry if it’s screaming, that means it’s working.’”

The cold slide of a katana being drawn made Matt realize that he should’ve been paying more attention to Deadpool, who had become strangely quiet.

“DP, you good?” Spiderman asked, because he was naive enough to ask questions he already knew the answer to. Matt had gotten caught up in his own urgency, and completely forgotten to take Wade’s history into account. He’d stumbled into a thorny web of traumas, and had no one to blame but himself.

“Doing great, Spidey!” Deadpool said with a cold cheer, and Matt fought the urge to shiver. “Feeling very ready to teach some remedial lessons on human/alien/magical and/or mechanical construct rights! C’mon, team, time’s a-wasting!” And he was off.

Spiderman turned towards Matt and paused, presumably trying to share some sort of look (which wouldn’t have worked regardless, did he forget he wore a full face mask?) Then he tensed to leap, and Matt followed suit, the two of them determined to clean up whatever mess Deadpool made.

-

Deadpool had been made emphatically aware that, if he killed on their watch, neither Spiderman nor Daredevil would ever work with him again. Matt guessed that that promise was the only thing keeping him from further brutality. The stench of blood grew quickly cloying.

“HEY!” Spiderman shouted on his left.

“What?” Deadpool asked in front of him. “It’s not like he needs both hands.”

Spiderman’s webbing thwip-ed out, staunching the wound. “You guys picked a really bad day to wear white,” he said to the swearing agent.

“Lay off the suits, freak!” another one said, aiming his strange weapon at Matt’s friend. Matt quickly disarmed him.

Their suits were entirely white? No wonder they smelled so strongly of starch and bleach. Another point towards government stupidity.

The three of them made their way deeper into the facility, and white suits were replaced with white lab coats, though the scientists still carried the little noisy pistols, powered by something Matt couldn’t identify by smell. Whatever kind of energy it was, it left strong taste on his tongue, like citrus and metal and sparking electricity.

Then, finally, they found what they were looking for.

As soon as he opened the door, Deadpool’s tone changed, from frightening mania to a solemn sort of despair. “Fuck,” he said under his breath.

Matt was in an unfamiliar building, having to feel his way through as he went. He’d had to navigate combat situations while ignoring a great many assaults upon his senses, from loud alarms to overwhelming scents to a completely unfamiliar power source that made his skin tingle. But the inside of that room was worse. Matt resisted the urge to plug his nose against the air saturated with bleach, old blood, and rotten… whatever it was.

Spiderman, seeing into the room, gasped, then composed himself, following Deadpool inside.

“Hey, kid,” Deadpool said softly. This was why, despite all the instincts telling him otherwise, Matt trusted Wade. Wade cared about vulnerable people, in a way that was both obvious and experienced. He wore his care on his sleeve. Matt couldn’t help but admire it, and felt a kinship he couldn’t quite deny. “We’re gonna get you out of here, okay?”

A mumble responded, drawing Matt’s attention, and he drew short. There was certainly a structure in the center of the room, and upon that structure (gurney?) was…

It was unlike anything Matt had ever experienced. It was in the shape of a person, yes, but it was almost like the absence of a person. Cold emanated from the space, but air seemed to pass right through it. Sound was drawn in by the shape, muffled. Was there really someone there? Matt’s skin prickled. (Matt still wasn’t psychic. But something about it didn’t feel right. Like it wanted him to be afraid.)

The figure wheezed.

“He can’t be older than sixteen,” Spiderman whispered.

“Hey, kid, hey, they really did a number on you, huh? Can you hear me?”

This time, there was no response, just the same shallow, painful breaths.

“Alright, up we go then,” Deadpool said, reaching for the figure. Matt almost called out, almost told him not to touch it. He half expected Deadpool’s hands to fall right through. But contact was made, and Deadpool hefted what apparently looked like a young teenaged boy into his arms.

“Alright besties, you clear the way and I’ll cart the kid out of here,” Deadpool said, tone comically sweet.

Again, Matt wanted to protest. Now that they had the captive, the rescue seemed less urgent. He wanted to know just what was going on here, what the subject was, why he was being studied. He had a bad feeling, was all.

Matt held his tounge. Deadpool and Spiderman’s hearts were both racing, and they radiated fear and concern. Something was leaking from the boy, something that smelled like the power source of the agent’s weapons but somehow more organic. Matt’s bad feeling didn’t matter, not until something bad actually happened. He could come back later and collect the information he needed, especially since he’d be able to use actual stealth to do it (thank you, Wade, for barging in.)

They went out the same way they’d come in, mowing through agents much less brutally now that Deadpool’s hands were fully. The number of people working in this building was frankly ridiculous.

The agents were not shy about targeting Deadpool, seeming unconcerned about any harm that may come to their captive. As they passed, they shouted at them, telling them to “Drop the subject!” or “Give up the Ghost Kid!”

(Ghost Kid? No, he couldn’t be a ghost. That was ridiculous. That wasn’t what ghosts were like, it couldn’t be.)

(Oh sweet Mother Mary.)

Spiderman started webbing the agents’ mouths shut.

When they had nearly reached their goal of escape, the figure began to murmur and shift.

“Hey kiddo, you with us?” Deadpool asked.

“Who’re you?” was the slurred response.

“Just your friendly neighborhood mercenary!” Deadpool chirped. “And I’m getting you out of here.”

“We’re leaving?” croaked the boy.

“Yep! Me’n my buddies,” Deadpool moved his head, gesturing to Matt and Spiderman, “we’ll keep you safe. These creeps aren’t gonna touch you, never again.”

The being moved suddenly, lurching up in Wade’s grasp, maybe meeting his eyes or grabbing his arm?

“The research,” he gasped, “the containment devices, the weapons, you have to destroy them! What they’re trying to do, it’s-” he broke off, coughing weakly.

“Kid?” Deadpool asked.

“An entire dimension,” the boy answered weakly. “They want to destroy an entire dimension.”

The alarms were still blaring. The number of agents coming in from different parts of the building hadn’t slowed. As bad as that sounded, and as much as Matt wanted to get their research away from them and into more capable and ethical hands (Karen), they didn’t have time if they didn’t want to take huge risks.

“We’re leaving,” Matt said, the full gravel of the devil in his voice. “We’ll stop them, but not tonight.”

“Yeah buddy, don’t worry, we’re gonna take care of it,” Spiderman assured him.

“You don’t understand,” the boy said, distraught.

Their group had reached the first floor. Matt was bruised and exhausted, but none of the combatants were experts in hand to hand. They were going to make it out of this, mission complete, none the worse for wear. It could’ve gone a lot worse.

“I’ll do it myself.”

The figure in Deadpool’s arms suddenly, inexplicably, dropped. No struggle, no loosening of Deadpool’s grip. It was like he fell straight through them.

Despite his weakness, the boy slipped away when Wade reached out for him. Then he, if Matt’s senses weren’t playing tricks on him, started floating.

“Back up,” he said, “and cover your ears.”

Matt didn’t like to muffle his senses, but he wasn’t an idiot. When a being like that said to protect your hearing, you did it. He pressed his palms tight to his ears and moved away.

It wasn’t enough.

What came from the thing could barely be called a sound. The sensation was almost physical, air distorting worse than the concussive blast of an explosion. He directed it down, down, through every level of the building, and the floor pushed back in waves as it fought against its own destruction. Inevitably, it failed, and Matt hugged desperately against the wall, hoping he wouldn’t lose the very ground beneath his feet. He sincerely doubted any electronics could survive the onslaught, meaning that whatever records and weapons were being stored here would be just as gone as the boy had wanted.

Matt didn’t know how long the attack lasted, maybe just seconds, regardless of how long it felt in his pain. The ringing in his head didn’t stop with the onslaught, and he removed his hands cautiously, hoping he wasn’t bleeding. Matt rose from his crouch, and tried to figure out what to do next. He couldn’t focus, couldn’t hear anything over the ringing, could only stand there and wonder if a single step would send him plunging to his death, if the ringing was just too loud or if his hearing was gone for good (he could do it, he could, but please, God, he didn’t want to, didn’t want to adjust, to lose such a huge part of the world around him, please, not again.)

He startled when someone touched his arm. “-hear me?” they asked, and Matt realized it was Spiderman, because he could feel his heartbeat through his fingers, knew the resonance of his voice in his chest, and Matt resisted the urge to cling to him for some sense of normalcy, because yes, even though he couldn’t hear him, he knew the vibrations of his body and could still interpret them.

“There you are,” Spiderman said. “Just mouth stuff at me, my ears are shot after that. You good?”

Matt grunted, and was disturbed by the lack of feedback within his own skull. “Can’t hear a thing,” he reluctantly admitted, doing his best to turn towards where he figured Spiderman’s eyeline was. He paused, uncomfortable, but added, “A bit dizzy, too.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Spiderman immediately replied, getting a better grip on Matt’s arm and starting to pull him somewhere. It wasn’t easy guidance, like Foggy would offer, it was a firm lead, something Spiderman would use to pull civilians away from danger. Matt suffered the indignity, seeing as he could barely stand straight and had almost no idea where the holes in the floor were. “Man, that kid scared the shit out of me. I’m so glad I managed to catch him.”

Catch him? That made sense, maybe, if whatever power that had kept him suspended gave out after that display. Spiderman didn’t have the boy now, though, so he must’ve handed him off to Deadpool, or maybe he’d used his webs.

The air changed, and Matt figured they’d made it outside. He expected Spiderman to let go of him, and felt both relieved and embarrassed when he didn’t.

Air moved, the ground vibrated, and Matt could tell someone approached them. Spiderman didn’t react negatively, so likely it was Deadpool. The mercenary stood in front of them, speaking, but the breeze whisked the vibrations away and Matt couldn’t make out his voice.

“Don’t ask me,” Spiderman replied. “Hey, you paying attention Double D? What the heck do we do with an incredibly powerful, partially human, transforming kid who may also be bleeding out?”

Transforming? Bleeding out? Matt had thought the blood smell was just Deadpool. Without thinking, he reached forward, seeking more information. After a moment, he made contact, and felt relieved at the familiar heart and breaths. Thus oriented, he moved his hand down to the figure in Wade’s arms.

It was a normal human boy. No uncanny not-there-ness, no hum of energy and power, just a kid with blood pumping through his veins and dripping from a poorly treated would along his torso.

“I don’t know,” Matt said. “Hospital?”

“I am not just dropping him off at a hospital,” Deadpool said. “If that’s your plan, I’ll just take him back to my place and-”

“Hey, Daredevil, didn’t you say you couldn’t hear?” Spiderman interrupted.

Matt nodded absentmindedly. “Not a thing.”

“We’re wearing full face masks,” Spiderman pointed out. “How do you know what we’re saying?”

Deadpool gasped dramatically. “He IS psychic!”

Matt sighed heavily, wishing he could drop his head into his hands, but that would necessitate letting go of his friends. “Claire is going to hate me for this,” he lamented.

“Who’s Claire?” Spiderman asked.

“He didn’t deny it!” Deadpool crowed.

“I’ll explain on the way,” Matt said, ignoring the mercenary. “You’re going to have to guide me though, I’m practically useless right now.”

“Sure thing,” Spiderman said, not needing more than that, and Matt knew that there was a reason he liked him.

Their group, much worse for wear and plus a new member, headed off again into the night.

[wildflowerluver]

can i req a emily prentiss daughter reader after emily “dies” and reader’s reaction to her death. angst, and then emily comes back and reader acts like morgan and is mad at emily, then fluff

motion sickness

emily prentiss x teen daughter!reader

the rise and fall of losing and regaining your mom

cw: character death, follows season 6/7 plot, reader has symptoms of depression, angst, yelling, grief, panic attacks, aaron cares so much for the reader

wc: 2.3k

༺♡༻

losing your mom doesn’t just hurt, it destroys you. 

emily wasn’t just your mom, she was your best friend. stemming from experience with her own mother, she made sure you two were close. 

the two of you traveled a lot when you were younger due to her job. but, joining the bau set permanent roots in washington d.c. you adored the city to grow up with and more importantly, you adored her team.

emily trained you like a profiler - on a much smaller scale, obviously, but you knew basic human behavior and safety. you were in highschool, she wanted you to not only be safe, but to be able to take care of yourself when she was away on cases.

you had woken up that monday to a note on the counter from your mom. you initially didn’t think much of it. she always left notes if she had an emergency case. 

you went through your normal maneuvers, getting ready for school and feeding sergio before leaving. 

it seemed like a normal day.

aaron had been the one to break the news.

you got a knock on the door of your home late that night. you were up late doing homework and if you were being honest, from anxiety too. your mom hadn’t texted or called. no contact worried you immensely.

turns out, your gut feeling had been right.

you don’t say anything, peering up at the agent with curious eyes as to what he’s doing here at this house. 

“i’m so sorry,” he starts.

three words.

i’m so sorry.

something had happened.

“we did everything we could,” the rest of his words seem to go fuzzy. if he keeps talking, you don’t hear anything.

your mom was dead. 

he didn’t even say it and you knew. her job had caught up to her.

he’s there when your knees buckle, arms wrapping around you to help you to the couch.

the tears come hot and fast, breathing becoming erratic as everything sets in. your mom was dead. she was gone and she wasn’t coming back. 

she hadn’t even been able to say goodbye.

aaron rubs your back as you sob. he doesn’t try and assure you that it’ll be okay because you know for a fact it won’t. all you wanted was her.

you don’t know how long you cry. the only thing you remember is aaron forcing you to match his breathing to back you down from the panic attack you were already spiraling yourself into. time doesn’t seem to be real, but that’s how grief is.

the one thing you know for sure is that you’re grateful aaron’s the one with you. he’s stoic and is, was, close with your mom. 

the second wave of panic hits hard: you’re alone. you have no parents and no one to care for you. you’re going to have to do it on your own.

you eventually run out of tears.

the numbness quickly replaces the weeping.

your mom was dead.

no matter how often that realization hits you, it feels like a fresh wound. you don’t know what happens, nor do you want to. all you can hope is that she went peacefully, that she wasn’t alone.

aaron stays the rest of the night and into the next day.

you barely sleep, a few hours at a time. each time you wake up, without fail, there’s the split second you forget what had happened before it all comes rushing back.

your mom was dead.

__

sergio gets rehomed quickly.

the cat had nudged his way into your room one afternoon. you were alone. parts of the house sat in boxes for your move. you hadn’t even dared to touch anything of your moms. the house was set to stay in your name as an inheritance. if you ever chose to return to d.c. it would serve as a place to stay. 

he jumped on your bed, pawing his way up your duvet to meet where your face was pressed against the mattress, stiff with tears. he meows, seemingly sensing your mood.

and you freak. 

you throw back the covers as you jump up.

“she’s dead, serg!” you scream, voice hoarse. “she’s fucking dead and she’s not coming back!”

sergio just sits, tilting his head.

you break.

looking at him reminds you of your mom. you picked him out, she chose the name. you couldn’t even look at him, let alone take care of him. it was just more pain.

penelope takes him in a heartbeat.

__

family friends in the midwest take you in.

it’s universal that staying in the city, in the home you shared, wouldn’t be good for you.

you leave almost immediately after your mom's funeral.

it’s a big gathering. 

agents from the bureau and friends in the surrounding area are there. the entire team, too. you sit in the front row with j.j. 

you don’t speak, you can’t.

staring at her coffin doesn’t seem real. 

you’re the last one to place a rose on the casket before it's lowered down. tears flood your cheeks and you have to bite your lip to suppress your sob. 

one kiss to the shiny wood and she’s gone.

the team each gives you a long hug. it’s a blur of ‘please reach out if you need anything’ and ‘you have our numbers’ but you appreciate it.

aaron is the one who drives you to the airport. 

you hold his hand the entire way.

__

life moves on but you change.

it marks five months since you left d.c. and the grief of losing your mom never lets up.

you keep the note she wrote the day of her death with you everyday. you trace the ‘i love you’ she signed it with more times than you’d like to admit.

to put it simply, you lose yourself after her death.

everything that made you you seems to disappear. school becomes an afterthought. you pass your sophomore year, barely, but if you didn’t you wouldn’t even care. your voice goes too. staying quiet is easier, better. nothing even feels worth talking about anymore. 

you’re grateful for the people who took you in and they do their best to help, but nothing replaces your mom. nothing will.

you get a call from a random number.

you decline it. you rarely pick up unknown numbers if ever. but when the number calls back two more times, you finally answer.

“hello?”

“is this y/n prentiss?”

you flinch at the last name but hum.

“this is erin strauss. i’m the bau section chief at quantico. i worked above your mother.”

erin strauss? you barely knew the woman, only hearing about her from your mom on the rare occasion she complained about her. why she was calling was beyond you.

she speaks before you can say anything. “while i know you’ve relocated, i do have a box of your mothers things here in washington if you are interested in coming to get them. i know this may seem like a postponed call but i’m sure you understand it’s a sensitive topic.”

she has no idea.

you didn’t know what she could have but you agree. you needed anything else you could get of your moms.

“i can talk to my foster parents and work something out.”

“great, i’ll see you soon.”

it takes you a few weeks after the initial call to make it back to washington d.c. emotions aside, you’re still a minor and flying alone needs additional paperwork. one of your family friends had offered to go with but you declined. you needed to do this on your own.

stepping off the plane, however, you seemingly regret that.

it’s been five months, nearly six, since the funeral. five months since you lost your mom. five months since you had spoken to and seen any of her team. five months since being home.

a car was arranged by your family friends to be waiting at the airport for you to drive to quantico. you ease back into driving in the city quickly, trying desperately to block out the visuals around you that pour memories in your mind.

it takes you nearly a half an hour to walk into quantico. 

seeing the building reminds you of your mom, obviously. you know that she has a picture on the wall with the same inscription on her tombstone, you had seen ones of other agents when you visited her at work. one deep breath and a swipe of tears later and you’re heading in.

when you had informed strauss of your arrival date, she made sure things at security were set. clipping a visitors badge on your shirt feels strange, like you shouldn’t be allowed to be here.

strauss’ office is easy enough to find with the help of an agent.

she isn’t even in there, though the box, clearly labeled, sits on one of the chairs.

you hoist it in your arms, fully intent on leaving the bau though the remembrance of the portrait makes you pause.

you need to see it. even in picture form, you need to see her. 

maybe saying hi to the team wouldn’t be a bad thing either.

you push through the glass doors to the bullpen, eyes darting around to take in the atmosphere you hadn’t seen in so long.

and then you see her.

she’s leaning against j.j.’s desk, laughing at something spencer said across from her. the team, aside from aaron, is out and mingling as well.

she’s alive.

your mom is alive. 

she’s not just alive, but she's standing less than 30 feet away from you.

everything seems to stop. the box in your hands slips out of your grip, clattering to the floor with a loud thud. if there was anything in there that was breakable, you were sure it had shattered.

all eyes in the bullpen snap over to where the commotion is.

you meet your mom's eyes, unable to focus on anything else. 

“y/n-” she breathes out, seemingly in equal awe at seeing you. 

your mom was alive.

when she takes a tentative step towards you, you take one backwards.

the atmosphere of the bau becomes suffocating. the months you spent mourning your mom's death was for nothing. she was here in washington d.c. laughing with her coworkers and she hadn’t reached out to you at all. 

everything is too much to process for you. none of it even makes sense.

you abandon the dropped box, turning on your heel and rushing out of the bullpen.

you take the stairs for the purpose of time. her voice calls your name behind you. in an effort to lose her, you weave your way between floors, taking different staircases until you’re back on the ground floor.

the fresh air outside doesn’t even help.

you avoid going back to your house. it was only yours because your mom left it in your name when she died. or well, faked her death.

instead, you find a hotel and check in. cash, of course. it would take penelope longer to track a paper trail than if you used your debit. 

technically it’s illegal to book hotel rooms for minors but, like with your safety, you were raised as a profiler. lying your way into a room wasn’t hard and you had no shame in using bau relations for further convincing. 

the second the door of your hotel room closes, you break.

betrayal takes over as the primary emotion. you buried her. she didn’t say goodbye and all this time you had thought it was because it was an urgent case. she planned to fake her death and let you mourn her.

the team didn’t even seem shocked by her return; the same ones who held you at her funeral and one of whom spent the entire night after delivering the news comforting you.

oh god, did aaron know?

your mom was alive and she hadn’t even thought of you.

__

you maximize your time at the hotel, choosing the latest possible check out time.

you head back home. that word leaves a sour taste in your mouth. it’s a 50/50 chance if your mom is there or not, but the realization hits that you’ll want, need, to see her.

the key to the home hasn’t changed. it still dangles from your keychain and fits perfectly when you slide it in to unlock the door.

your mom is sitting on the couch when you walk in. sergio purrs beside her, clearly ecstatic that his mom is back.

he jumps off the couch when he hears the door open, parading towards you with a meow. you, however, can only focus on her.

“y/n-” she starts again.

she lets you make the first move, eyes pooling with tears at the site of you.

your tears have long begun to stream down your cheeks. a sob falls from your mouth when you reach her, hands extending out to hold her face.

thumb rests on her pulsepoint on her neck. her heart is beating, steady. that feeling alone makes everything more real.

“how?” is the only question you can ask.

she holds your wrists.

“it doesn’t matter right now, i’ll explain later, okay? i promise,” your mom pleads. “i was waiting until things calmed down a bit before i reached out to you. i’m so so sorry.”

you press your foreheads together. you don’t want an apology. 

“it’s okay mom. i’m just really glad you’re here.” and you mean it.

the two of you spend the greater part of the day crying and holding each other. when you’ve calmed down, you fill your mom in on everything that’s happened.

you go to bed that night with her tucking you in and kissing your forehead like she always used to do. 

“goodnight y/n, i love you so much.” 

“i love you too.”

your mom is alive.

[the-nysh]

Trimax vol1: Longhaired Meryl Appreciation

Both Vash and Meryl grew out their hair in the 2yr timeskip since Fifth Moon (prev vol), that they'll both get haircuts before formally returning to duty. BUT! Since in-universe it's Meryl's birthday (February), and as an experienced (and silly!) ~professional~ she understands the value of taking a well-deserved vacation before she inevitably gets swept into the chaotic typhoon of her job again....so for now, here's her looking radiant with her longer hairstyle:

Bonus comparison to her typical hair length looks like this:

Additional chapter character notes of interest below the cut:

When her coworkers start gossiping and making assumptions about how horrible and dangerous her job (supervising Vash) must've been, she gently corrects them--defending Vash's name, saying "it wasn't such a terrible experience; Vash was a very different person than everyone thought he was; he was actually a very caring and honest man." Very good! She's seen much of his genuine kindness and efforts on their travels, that she won't sit idly by when others continue to misjudge him or speak ill of his character.

(Interestingly in contrast, it seems Meryl has a tolerance towards barbs and criticisms thrown at herself--remaining comparatively silent and/or suppressing it when she's the topic, but she will speak her mind on behalf of others, like Vash's reputation here.)

When her boss calls her to identify recent photos of Vash, she has tears of recognition--it's the first time (and confirmation he's alive) she's seen him after Fifth Moon! She notes his hair color has changed...

However, this time that's her boss's only use for her, as he's hired another guy in charge to intercept Vash. Meryl tries to help by offering the new guy all her reports on Vash as references, but the guy rudely insults and dismisses her! Saying her reports are uselessly no better to him than tabloids--as if she were writing Vash as another 'legendary mysterious hero'--which ah! If her previous words to her coworkers were any clue, she was probably working just as hard to clear Vash's name thru her insurance reports too. :') Lovely integrity and consistent dedication, Meryl!

She was willing to let the new guy go (while dissing a silly gesture behind his back~ again, she refrained from arguing or speaking up for herself here) and sit this one out, until she learns he's a trained military soldier...uhoh. (*cough* whom Vash also doesn't trust and won't open his door for...until the guy mentions lies he brings word from Meryl--ding!)

Although Meryl was supposed to be on vacation, she personally intervenes upon realizing this in-house 'insurance agent' is a hit-man with an unethical approach to 'risk management'--he's here to kill Vash and she does NOT agree with that! (Her non-lethal stance on dealing with targets actually aligns with Vash's values!)

The guy berates her as foolish to get so involved, while pointing a gun at her head--so brave, Meryl! She calmly remembers what her coworker said, about how "a woman can't be happy when she's always getting thrown into life-threatening situations" and thinks back to every danger she's encountered--the Nebraskas, BDN and the Bad Lads, Monev the Gale, EG the Mine...Fifth Moon, to finally focusing on...Vash's smile.

Almost like a grounding effect. 'Do it for him~' Where normally yes, she'd agree, but getting so 'foolishly' involved and thrust into countless dangerous situations becomes necessary and worth it (for Vash's smile...)

Also because, did the guy completely dismiss and underestimate her so bad, thinking she'd carelessly come here all by herself without a plan?! Hah! Cause Milly's on supportive sniper stungun duty to trash into this guy's ego; played 'em well, girls~ With this, Meryl's once again stepped in to take preventative measures against trouble to help save Vash's life, even from afar without him knowing.

Although Milly asks if they can go meet Vash, Meryl insists on keeping professional boundaries at a distance for now--so they can prioritize their self-care enjoying their much-needed vacation, as they'll meet that 'troublemaker' through work and soon get carried away by the typhoon again, all in due time~

(Back at the office, now who's going to be their most qualified replacement for that guy injured on the job? Ding ding, all along that would be Meryl!)

[ottoslab]

not to be extremely predictable abt the characters i ask abt but do you imagine any of the p7 are still around during or right before the future au? i know they are. Old. but i always am fond of the concept of like the old folks helping out at the camp after pn2.

Im always so very tossed up about how and If the p7 are still around during the aac timeline . But for the sake of “it would be funny if,” I will simply say they Are. (And ramble more about the thoughts ive had about a couple that might Not be and Why under a cut bc its kind of depressing)

Otto will never die and will never leave the Motherlobe much to Hollis and Truman’s dismay. The older he gets the more powerful he gets. He continues to contribute, arguably with increasing efficiency, but as each year passes he gets less and less concerned about getting caught doing things outside of the parameters of Psychonauts rules. “What are you gonna do? Fire me? Lmao” *goes back to working on his death beam that he just made because it was funny.*

I have this hc that at some point Sam makes it her mission to renovate the Lumberstack Diner as the Questionable Area? becomes more profitable over the years. And i think Compton working as a cook there would be a nice little job for him to have while in retirement. Cooking is like the one type of stress he can handle i think. Hes so so scared but in the comfort of something familiar so its less likely to cause him to start blowing things up.

Bob and Helmut deserve a nice little retirement home and I think theyre the primary residents of the Gulch (next to maybe Cassie and Compton?) They supervise (re: sometimes run into and chat with) Raz and his team who have basically taken up their own residence in the Gulch. Perks of being teammates with agent Aquato and Zanotto is that you dont have to resort to dormitories.

I’m not sure what’s up with Cassie! I don’t think she’s doing much either, probably also sticking around the Gulch. Though i think through the support of the others she at least gets Slightly more involved with the Psychonauts or going out into towns to do book signings so that she doesn’t become a complete and total recluse again.

I think Ford and Lucy are out traveling a lot while they’ve still got the time to. Making up for a whole lotta lost time n all that, giving each other time to talk and jazz. They’re not around a lot but they visit often!

Ok. And a very specific less sweet outcome for Ford and Lucy under the cut

When i run through which characters it would be like. Narratively “Best” to have passed away around the AAC timeline, my mind always immediately jumps to these two. Like obviously I think some characters would be more likely to have died before them (looking at you my friend Bob) or ones that could be more impactful in other directions (Cassie and Compton having to learn to exist without one another) but considering their last narrative experiences in Pn2 was finding each other again for the first time in years, it feels like any of those four (Bob, Helmut, Cassie, Compton) passing away would just be a disservice to prior storytelling. And Otto will never die, as I’ve said, so don’t even worry about him <3

I just think a lot about a story in which Ford and Lucy pass on before Raz can ever really reconcile any of his issues he had with either of them. A story in which he’s happy to see them getting along and traveling together, but every time they leave he holds his breath and counts down the days until they make it back and he can guarantee they’re still alive and he goes “This time, this time I’ll say something,” and then he doesn’t because how do you even bring up that conversation after all this time.

And then eventually they pass and it’s almost poetic, really, going at around the same time. But he never got to say anything to them, never got to reconcile and barely got a goodbye. And now he has to learn how to deal with that. How to deal with the fact that they’re still everywhere, in True Psychic Tales issues, on murals, on old pictures, inherently buried in the history of the psychonauts.

And i dont know. I think it’s an interesting story to explore. In a hypothetical real Psychonauts future story, you enter the story with some characters trying to question Raz about something theyre worried about that he always cuts off or dodges before you get to hear, but the lack of any mention of Ford or Lucy is so absent that it’s palpable. Stuff like that.

[shwbyy]

OVERWATCH OC — Amira

Here’s my Overwatch oc! Her name’s Amira. She’s a support that would definitely be nerfed into the ground upon release if she was ever a real thing and she uses fire to heal and enable allies and attack enemies. The names of her abilities may change if I don’t like them. :p

ANYWAYS LOREEEEE 👇👇

“I won’t burn this world down with me.”

‪After being tortured and experimented on for years by Talon, Circe lives her life as a nomad dedicated to protecting ‬those at risk of enduring the same fate she has‪ and determined to balance her imperative to remain incorrupt and her hellbent desire for retribution.‬

Early Life:

Amira had a lot of expectations to live up to, and she was happy with that. Her mother and father taught her many crafts such as combat, engineering and first aid, in the hopes she would become the best version of herself possible. Amira worked hard to become extremely talented at these crafts and make her parents proud of her. However she struggled socially due to being autistic and, despite her parents attempts, found it hard to suppress her “less acceptable traits”. Besides this, Amira continued to strive to become the perfect example of ambition and stand by her parents values of resilience, empathy and fortitude and was ultimately excited for a future of success and security.

Future Stripped:

In the short span of a day, Amira’s world was turned upside down. Her village was invaded by Talon forces who laid waste to her home and she, and many other young people, were orphaned and captured to be used as test subjects at Oasis. The goal of these tests was to create a generation of Talon soldiers commissioned by Doomfist with unique abilities that were more effective in both combat and aid. For seven years Amira was tortured and experimented on, the leading scientist behind these tests being Moria O’Deorain. Her body was used in a variety of tests, most notably one that increased her body heat and bio-electricity levels, causing her to expel fire from her hands and regenerate at a faster rate. These flames had the ability to both heal and to hurt. She had a number of cybernetic augmentations and nodes implanted into her in an attempt to stabilise her new condition, as well as vents implanted into her upper arms and slits down her arms and fingers. (Talon wanted to turn her into the best version of herself in their own regard, mirroring her original future that was stripped from her). The augments were difficult to control and she had to be trained to hone both the harmful and healing aspects of her abilities. Amira was also punished and disciplined regularly for speaking out and for her general defiance against Talon while in captivity, believing that if she wasn’t dead she wasn’t broken. Her cell was visited by some Talon agents and their allies, some mocking her and her state and some showing unexpected remorse. Eventually, she escaped and ran from the laboratory.

Forging a Path:

After eventually escaping from Oasis, Amira was riddled with anger and despair. She trekked an austere and dangerous journey from Oasis in Iraq back to her village in Lebanon. It had been completely rebuilt from the ground up but, remembering the absolute destruction that had taken place all those years ago, Amira knew she could not remain in what was, to her, essentially a completely new place, not at all the home she grew up in, without doing something about what had happened to it and her people in the past. With no other options Amira continued to train to learn how to hone her powers and eventually became an elusive figure that travelled around helping those in need. She avoids capture from Talon, and those looking to secure the bounty on her head for her capture, while also intercepting and preventing them from completing their missions. Refusing to let her past and pain break her Amira aims to protect and heal those who have been or are at risk of experiencing the trauma she has suffered while struggling to find the balance between gentleness and her insatiable and malevolent desire for retribution.

I’m really happy with her! If you have any questions, please lmk!

[sailor-aviator]

Farther Than Tomorrow

So, I know you guys come for my fanfic, but here's my original short story that I wrote when I was feeling some type of way about the cave paintings in France.

I remember every detail from the first time I did it. It had been an accident of course, but I had gone through the motions so many times now that it didn’t seem all that important how or even why it had started. Time travel had only recently become a possibility, and so some were assigned the task of observing historical events. To record every detail available to them without messing up the timeline, and reporting back to have their findings stored for posterity. Others had been given the task of actually changing certain aspects of historical events. The biggest one to date involved some event with a library, but I think it was still burned anyway, so the head honchos are still trying to figure that one out. I had been in the former group of employees when I first started out. That was, until I had accidentally been caught in the crossfires of the American Revolution.

I had hidden behind an overturned supply wagon, trying to catch my breath when I caught sight of a young boy. He couldn’t have been older than fourteen, and it looked like he still had some remnants of his baby fat on his face. He looked up at me, blue eyes starting to glaze over. He lifted his arm towards me, but it quickly fell back down to the ground with a soft thud. He tried to speak, but it came out as a harsh whisper, and a look of pure agony cracked across his face. His other arm grabbing his torso, and for the first time I noticed the brilliant scarlet coating his makeshift rebel uniform. He looked up at me, trying to speak again, but a sharp cry was all that came out as his body contorted in pain with the effort.

“Hey, now. Don’t speak. Everything is going to be alright now,” I cooed, crawling over to him quickly. I smoothed the hair out of his face, taking his hand in mine. Glancing down, I could see the dark stain growing bigger on his clothing.

“W-who are you?” he gasped, eyes raking over me. I wasn’t wearing any period clothing, so I could only imagine the sight I must have been to him.

“I’m from a time in the distant future. I’m here to observe,” I explained gently.

“I don’t want to die,” he cried, tears beginning to form. I could feel my heart wrench in my chest, and I carefully maneuvered him so that his head rested in my lap.

“I know, I know,” I soothed, stroking his hair. The small action seemed to calm him down, and he relaxed a little.

“If you are from the future,” he began, “then can you tell me if any of this is worth it? Does my death mean anything in the end?”

I paused, contemplating his words. He seemed to sense my apprehension because he spoke again. “Please. Tell me. I’m dying anyway. Please tell me that it’s not in vain.”

I took another moment to choose my words carefully, knowing I was breaking the biggest rule in the book.

“Because of your sacrifice,” I started, “something absolutely incredible happens. In two years time, the world turns upside down. The colonists win, and a new nation is born. A nation that will go through many trials and that won’t always come out on the right side of them. This nation will be known as the land of the free and the home of the brave. We become a great nation, one that rivals every other. We make mistakes, but this land and its people grow and become strong because of it.”

He stared at me in awe, his skin a sickly white at this point.

“We win?” he asked quietly. I nodded.

“We win,” I smiled.

“We win,” he breathed, a small smile creeping onto his face, and then, with a shuddering breath, he stopped moving. The world seemed to stop moving after that. I had never seen someone die before, and the sight left me in shock. I was put on leave with mandatory sessions with the department psychologist after that.

—

“How are you feeling after the entire experience, agent?” asked the doctor.

“I feel…sad. Like I should have done more,” I admitted quietly, staring down at my hands. The doctor nodded, giving me a sympathetic smile.

“That’s understandable. You weren’t supposed to witness any deaths on your assignment,” he noted, looking up from the file he had in his lap. I glanced over at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, not personally anyway,” he chuckled with a wry smile. “You were never supposed to be that close. I’ve heard they’ve fixed the coordinate machine though.”

“That’s great,” I hummed unenthusiastically. The doctor stared at me for a moment before leaning closer.

“There’s something else on your mind, isn’t there?” he asked.

“It was awful not being able to help that kid. But, in those last few moments, it felt…almost good to know I had comforted him in some way before he…” I stopped, not able to bring myself to say the word. The doctor nodded knowingly. There was another stretch of silence between the two of us before he spoke again.

“Maybe there’s something you can do.”

—

My director stared at me for a moment before letting out a long breath.

“And you’re sure you want to do this?” she asked, worry evident on her face. I gave her a hard nod, my mind made up.

“It’s something I feel needs to be done,” I said simply.

“Alright then,” she began, reaching down to grab a file. “This is your new assignment.”

—

From that moment on, I went from being a simple observer to being something so much more than that. I had made it my life’s work to travel across space and time to bring comfort to those on their deathbeds. I had visited everyone from simple Viking farmers to Napoleon Bonaparte himself. All to tell them how they changed the world into what we know it as today.

“I’m surprised at your work so far,” my director said.

“Is that good or bad surprise?” I asked with a smile. She returned it, and leaned back in her chair.

“Definitely good. Because of your work, we are able to put personalities to faces and people. It’s one thing to observe, but a whole different ball park to understand.”

“That’s very kind of you to say, Director, but I have a feeling you called me in here to do something else.”

“You’re right,” she said, handing me a thin file. Curious, I took it from her, flipping it open.

“What,” I began in confusion, “what is this?”

“It’s your next assignment, of course.”

“I don’t understand,” I said with a shake of my head. Closing the file, I attempted to hand it back to her, but she shook her head.

“This one is all yours,” she said.

“But…why? How can I possibly help? Can the Allspeak even translate for us?”

“Believe it or not,” she began, “a lot of observers requested this time period specifically. We’ve gained a lot of knowledge from the amount of people who volunteered to go.”

“Then why not have one of them go?” I grumbled.

“I think this will be good for you, and besides. You’re one of our best.”

—

And that’s how I ended up in a dark cave sometime in the Paleolithic era. The cave was empty, but not deserted. Several small fires were scattered about with stone tools and bits of food left around them. Not too far back, I heard a hacking cough echo to the front where I stood. Quietly and as quickly as possible, I made my way to where the man laid on his makeshift bed of pelts. Sweat drenched his forehead, and his breath came out in wheezes. He was dying.

At the sound of my footsteps, he opened his eyes, and they widened in shock at the sight of me. I put my hands up to show him I was unarmed, and he watched me wearily.

“It’s alright. I’m not here to hurt you,” I murmured, slowly continuing my way towards him. He continued to watch me, not moving. Finally, I reached him, and I slowly knelt down to sit beside him. We stared at each other for a long moment, both of us taking each other in.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“I’m no one important. Just an observer,” I replied with a small smile.

“You not from here,” he noted, giving me another once over. I chuckled, my smile growing with the action.

“That’s right. I’m from a far away place. A far away time.”

“Time?” he questioned, looking into my eyes. It shocked me to see someone completely human in them. For so long, we had been taught about the people of this time period. How they lived. How they survived. How they created masterpieces on the walls of the caves that still survive to this day. They seemed something other than human. But now, sitting there and staring into his eyes, it was like staring into the eyes of an old friend. Someone who wasn’t as otherworldly as first expected. Someone living from day to day. Just living.

“I’m from the future,” I told him. He furrowed his brow at me.

“What is…future?” he asked. Maybe they didn’t understand the concept of time beyond a certain point, or maybe they just didn’t have a word for future yet. I thought for a moment as to how to explain such a simple word to him.

“I’m from a place that’s farther than tomorrow,” I said finally. He seemed to understand that, and he nodded.

“What you doing here?” he asked before letting out another wheezing cough. I placed a hand on his chest, trying to give him some comfort.

“I’m here to see you.”

“Why?”

I paused, unsure of how to answer. The people of the Paleolithic era had always fascinated everyone throughout the ages. More specifically, their art had captured the imagination of everyone who had ever seen it.

“I want to know you,” I said finally. A different kind of confusion adorned his face now.

“I not family. I not important to you.”

“But you are,” I smiled, taking his hands in mine.

“How?” he wheezed, letting his eyes fall closed for a moment before looking at me again. I moved so that I was lying down next to him, and I pointed at the walls surrounding us. On every surface, a painting rested, holding a story that ran from wall to wall.

“See these?” I asked him, earning a nod. “These paintings will last longer than you and I will ever be able to understand. A long time from now, people like me will come here; long after everyone living here is gone. They’re going to come here, and they’re going to do everything they can to understand you and why you left these pictures here. People like me will cry at the sheer beauty of these pictures, and in doing so, will cry at the loss of you, at the loss of everything you represent. Their souls will mourn you and everything you’ve given to us.”

“Why they want to understand?”

“Because,” I whispered, “every single person that ever was or ever will be has come from you. By understanding you, it gives us hope that we can understand ourselves. That we can understand a time when we worked together to survive everything the world threw at us. We want to understand the time before we started tearing our world apart because we could.”

“And I give?” he asked, eyes turning to search mine, seemingly for answers to questions he didn’t even know how to ask. I nodded, feeling my heart break once again for someone who was already long dead.

“You give us the ability to understand the world around us and how we fit in a little better. You make us see ourselves for what we are.”

“What that?” he asked quietly, letting out a weak cough.

“Creatures that were able to overcome many trials and rise up to become something greater than what nature may have intended us to be.”

“That…good?” he whispered, fighting to keep his eyes open.

“Yes,” I said, “that’s very good.”

“I no want,” he coughed, his entire body jerking violently this time. “I no want to be alone. Family looking for food. No back for long time.”

“It’s okay,” I soothed. “I won’t leave your side.”

And I didn’t. For a long while, we laid there, staring at the walls. The fires around the cave danced, casting shadows that made those breathtaking pictures seem to move with them. We watched as the people hunted for the deer that seemed larger than life. We watched as the herds of bison raced against each other, forming waves of dark bodies against a sea of rigid stone. I didn’t realize at first when his hand fell limp in mine. When I did, I looked over to find he had completely stilled, departed to dance and hunt with his ancestors, and to be immortalized on the stone walls protecting us. Carefully, I arranged his hands so that they rested on his body, and I made my way towards the opening of the cave, sparing one last look at my new friend.

I didn’t go on any assignments after that. It seemed almost wrong to even entertain the idea of it. I retired myself to desk duty, handing out assignments when they came in, and making sure each person was assigned the cases they could handle. I still think about the man in the cave, and tell his story whenever I’m called to guest lectures.

“What inspired you to start this branch of the agency?” asked one student during a lecture at Harvard. I thought for a moment, not quite knowing the answer.

“I wanted to start it,” I began, “because I hoped that people in the future would look back on this and be inspired to continue to keep learning about themselves.”

“Where do you see our future being?” asked another student.

Smiling, I replied, “In a place farther than tomorrow.”

[swordsmans]

I neeeeeeed to know about "luffy slips into an alternate timeline/dimension where he "died" instead of sabo and meets an older ace/sabo" I live for stuff like this please

sorry this took me so long! i. didn't realize you had sent an ask rip (that stupid sanji post has annihilated my activity page im in hell)

omg this one is actually one that i'm least likely to actually write because it has the potential to be Long (as you can see with the giant outline), but i wanted to kind of play around with the idea of luffy-less world in the post-timeskip era, because i really like time travel/redo fics where everyone is better/stronger but i think it would be NEAT if the straw hats had to fix things that might have happened if luffy died as a kid. think "doomed timeline" (if that means anything to you). even though the premise is technically ASL i am a straw hat bitch through and through so it's actually more of straw hat fic than the original idea.

here's a copy/paste under the cut (you will see that i write a lot of notes to myself in these things)

takes place post-timeskip era

sabo has no connection to the revolutionary war; he and ace set out as pirates together. because of this, they are not associated with whitebeard (therefore no marineford); instead, they are associated with shanks somehow (maybe; not subordinates tho)

they're no longer two captains one ship, two captains (allied) on two ships (SEE ALT 2)

straw hats have all experienced some form of "bad" ending that leaves them jaded, cynical, or (for some) borderline evil

luffy = strength, joy, freedom optimism; most arcs involve rescues, but i dont think any of the straw hats are "weak" enough to die during their initial crises without luffy, otherwise they wouldnt be straw hats--just win at a massive cost and the next three years would be significantly harder

zoro - frees himself from the courtyard and continues being the demon of the east blue but--

nami - gets the money to free her village, arlong refuses to free cocoyashi; nami seeks out the demon of the east blue in order to take out arlong (in exchange for the money she earned and that arlong has stashed). fight is brutal but they kill arlong; nojiko dies, nami ends up traveling with zoro afterwards bc she has no reason to stay behind with nojiko gone.

they become a well-known, ruthless, and efficient bounty hunting duo on the grand line (bc it earns money and zoro wouldnt make it out of the east blue without her); both are jaded as FUCK bc zoro's dream is stagnant and nami is still wrestling with the guilt of failing her family years later, they're also bloodthirsty because money + power fills the void

usopp - kaya dies in the initial plot to kill her, usopp is blamed and flees the village; gets picked up by the buggy pirates (please this could be so funny please but remember this is supposed to be sad but think of how funny this could be though circus sharpshooter usopp he and buggy would be. so funny in the same room together)

sanji - stays at the baratie until the vinsmokes have a use for him. "wedding"/WCI goes through(?) and/or sanji is a member of the big mom pirates; pudding refuses to kill sanji, big mom is going to kill her but sanji bargains for her life; germa mods are awakened; in order to protect zeff+etc, pretends to be emotionless like his brothers, ends up working as a germa agent instead of staying on WCI because now pudding is as much of a liability as zeff or smth (pudding tho??? pls be nice to her but figure smth out). sanji war crimes

chopper/brook/jinbei remain stagnant

franky - whore do not forget this man was a gang leader who did actual violence; franky family is bigger and badder than ever, babyy

robin - can't stay with crocodile (boring bland unoriginal) put her somewhere she can experience problems; maybe she leaves, ends up on water 7, encounters franky; joins franky family(?) for protection but since she's no longer under a warlord's protection she's fair game for marines/bounty hunters; continues to work as an assassin tho and doesn't stay around much to protect the franky family from the people after her

franky family could potentially work as an alt strawhats "maybe i dont want to die actually" environment for robin; franky helps robin stabilize a little but since they're both kind of Messed Up it's less of a "we're fine actually" and more like "we're fucked up but at least we're fucked up together". they run a Criminal Organization together. they are a gang. robin is an assassin. no one is happy go lucky here even if they have found measure of """"""peace""""""

luffy encounters ace/sabo, it's emotional (obvs; this is self-indulgent)

however his brothers are both fundamentally fine, they are thriving and alive--there's nothing here to fix. you know who isn't fine? his crew.

convinces ace/sabo that they need to find them--whether it's to convince them to join their crew or just to make sure they're okay (whats the motivation here besides luffy wanting them to be happy because they're his family? does he need one? does it even matter?)

ALT 1 are luffy's crew here or did luffy enter the doomed timeline alone. if so--everyone? or just a few

interesting interactions: doomed/real zoro (consider the implications of a zoro who has stagnated/given up on his dream; this guy's got issues but our guy has no self-preservation however maybe they both have no self preservation. interesting convo about worth or value of life without drive)

doomed/real nami (LOTS of grief here babes, but maybe an interesting convo here about strength vs vulnerability)

doomed/real sanji (ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh my god can you imagine. can you imagine how much that would mess him up to see himself become Sanji Vinsmoke)

luffy has fundamentally changed all of their lives for the better but the straw hats are all strong as individuals (physically and emotionally) even before they join the straw hats. that's the point

even if the "doomed" straw hats encounter/join luffy would their lives fundamentally change for the better or are the experiences they accumulate as straw hats what changes them--it's not just luffy going "ur mine now you're happy" it's the development they go through during events/by interacting with each other; maybe some choose to stay where they are but have a shift in perspective of some kind

at least try with asl here

is sabo still kind of unstable? is ace still depressed? how does luffy's absence change them?

ALT 2 consider that they drift apart without luffy to hold them together; luffy makes an effort to reunite them?

[shabre-legacy]

500 word discord prompt

The ship was strange. Not being on a ship, that had become normal to Fifteen. She spent enough time traveling between Dromund Kaas, Korriban and wherever Intelligence or Jadus sent her that being on a ship was nearing boring. But this one was strange. She keeps returning to the same ship, sleeping in the same bunk, waking up and going to bed with the same people. It’s unsettling to say the least.

And why did it have to be that Chiss Cipher? She’d helped her in the sanctum because she’d felt bad for her. Jadus was never gentle and her first experience with him had been bad. She’d just…well Fifteen didn’t know what she’d wanted. She just felt like helping. Now she was stuck with the woman.

She’s supposed to have someone to rely on now. But how does she do that when every single part of her life is a lie? She’s an agent, but she’s also more. She’s Jadus’s, but she’s not. But she also is and he is dead, or is he? Her true masters don’t care enough to shield her from Jadus’s abuses, but did shield her mind from his probing.

Yet all that had led to Izutsa. The woman was loyal to the empire and even more so to her species. But she was also kind and considerate and challenging. She won’t bend to Fifteen’s demands, gives orders in the field like she was born for it and wouldn’t hesitate to sacrifice Fifteen if it would serve the needs of the empire. Yet when Fifteen is injured, they rest. When Fifteen felt off, felt an emotion other than anger, Izutsa noticed. She didn’t judge, she’d just pushed until Fifteen started talking. She’d listened and offered support. None of that was something she could remember experiencing. She is a tool and a toy and nothing more. Yet this strange alien woman treats her as though she’s a person.

It’s awful. Fifteen continues staring at her datapad wondering how to phrase this report to get her out of this assignment. She cannot stand another one of those stupid soft looks of concern when a meal that’s not an imperial ration is placed in front of her. She refuses to deal with another order to sit down and recognize she had an injury. She will not stick around to waste time on sleeping 4 hours out of every 30 when there is work to be done and her masters to serve.

She was created for a singular purpose and this whole life that she was gaining on the ship is too much. Kaliyo, for all her greed and self-centeredness, had even decided to care a little and take her out to experience life without orders. Dancing with the rattataki, hitting the casinos, robbing some corporate sleeze and then running from the casino security and the enforcers of the Hutt Cartel, it had been an experience that kept circling her brain. She’d felt alive in ways only blaster fights had managed.

She was not ok with these changes. There had to be something that Cipher Nine had done that she could use to get out of this assignment.

[1358456]

Pokemon Yellow "Free to Play" Run Part 1

Here we go. Rules are pretty straight forward. Only use gift Pokemon, no beneficial glitches allowed.

Here we go again.

Now. Where did I leave off the last time I played this thing? According to my last save state...

Oh, that's right. This was a Pikachu and a Mew merged together. So this was a Pikachu shaped Mew so it has Surf and Fly to test the Pikachu sprites. And apparently, since it's a Pikachu shaped Mew, it couldn't refuse a Thunderstone. ... So it's not a Pikachu anymore, huh? That means...

Get the f*ck out of here. Finally, I got rid of that thing once and for all.

Now I can start a brand new run with no regrets.

Unfortunately, I don't have enough space nor do I have access to numbers, so I can't name myself as "F2P" or "Free2Play" or anything like that. So FTP, or Free To Play.

So then my asshead rival has to be...

Pay To Win. Or at least, he's going to pay to try to win. What a shmuck.

If I recall, the first fight against this guy and the second optional fight determines what his Eevee becomes. Lose both to get Vaporeon, the easiest of the three. Win one for Flareon, and win both for him to get Jolteon, the hardest of the three.

Hmm... So I guess I should throw this fight?

... Nah. What's the worst that could happen?

Since I'm not allowed to catch anything, I only have Pikachu for a while. So how do I beat Brock? ... It's cheese time. Spam Double Team, Tail Whip, and then smack around his stones... er... Rock types.

... I somehow forgot that these guys existed. I still only have Pikachu here. Spam Double Team!

Who needs Thunderbolt? Even Misty's Starmie is no match for this finely aged filthy cheddar.

... The perp is literally one square away from this screen. He's right there. You guys aren't trying too hard are you? Of course the police force has "trouble". As in, they only bother with the low ranking grunts, as arresting the higher ups create a power imbalance, which may instead result in a massive gang war.

... Ever wonder WHY this international police agent is on this cruise ship, on the trail of Team Rocket? ... Does Team Rocket own or run the harbor? ... Maybe this is why Lt. Surge is a Team Rocket admin in Pokemon Special.

This old captain, who must've spent decades traveling by ship, got seasick on a cruise ship that hadn't even left the harbor yet. ... Are you like... just pretending to be a ship captain? Are you actually a Team Rocket executive? You are the Cut Master. ... An odd thing for a ship captain, but not so odd for a dagger wielding yakuza...

Is it really a gift if I just barge in here and take this Eevee without getting permission from this beefed up "teacher" who has no students? ... There is a single table for one. So this is like a private tutor for a student whose Eevee I'm just taking.

Well, it's mine now. Time to get a Thunderstone and...

... Is it now? Do I have to merge this with a Magikarp or something to get it to obey?

Jolteon has 1 lower level, has no stat experience, and yet has higher stats across the board. Pikachu also only has Thunderbolt and Quick Attack as offense. Jolteon gets Thunderbolt (TM 24), Pin Missile, Double Kick, AND Quick Attack! ... Which means...

Get the f*ck out of here. ... Also, Jolteon's Pokedex number is 135, so obviously I'm going to use that instead.

So far, I'm only really using Charizard and Jolteon. I need access to Cinnabar Island to get two more team additions.

So this is a blatantly public Rocket Clan subsidiary that's in charge of the gambling hall. This old patriarch here doesn't bother to hide what he's doing either. And there are Rocket grunts just walking around in public! What's Erika doing about this? ... Oh that's right. She's basically high off of the "fumes" of Grass types. I'm surprised that Erika wasn't a Rocket admin in Pokemon Special too, in charge of dru- I mean, aromatherapy.

Sheesh. Rocket thugs are everywhere in Celadon City. You'd think this is where the Clan HQ is. Maybe Erika should've been another Rocket admin.

Which would make over half of the Kanto Gym Leaders a part of Rocket. They truly are the yakuza of the Pokemon world.

... Ever wonder why this guy locked the access gates to Saffron City? You don't just lock down a city for no reason. It's not like there's a massive construction or anything. The only thing happening in Saffron City is a Rocket invasion of Silph Co, which isn't a reason to lock the city. Curious. Even more curious that this guy will let you go through when you bribe him with water. It implies that he hasn't been told to lock the city by "proper" authority...

Bump and scam? "Ow, I think you broke my shoulder! I'm going to need 100 000 P for hospital fees!" Also, why are Rocket grunts blocking access to Sabrina's Gym? ... That's probably the reason why she's a Rocket admin in Pokemon Special.

Hey, punk. ... Hey, didn't you have a Spearow and a Raticate?

... Did you know that you could access the PC in the president's room of Silph Co? Because I didn't until now. How many years have I...

... Why aren't you looking at me when talking to me? ... Why does no one look at me when talking to me in this generation?

Also, ever wonder WHY and HOW the chairman of the Rocket Clan is a Gym Leader, an official title? To the point where the Victory Road guards won't let you pass until you got this guy's acknowledgement? So the Pokemon League is deliberately not bothering with Team Rocket activities. The entire Pokemon League structure involves the head of Team Rocket. No wonder the Elite Four were bad guys in Pokemon Special.

So here's my team so far. I'm right before Victory Road, and... Why is my team either critically weak to Jolteon, or is Jolteon? Lapras, Charizard, Aerodactyl, and Omastar are weak to Electric. Hitmonlee has base 35 Special, and Jolteon has base 110 Special, so Hitmonlee will get blasted into shreds by a single Sp. Atk. Hmm... I don't have other options though. ... Why, oh why, did I not throw two fights against the street punk rival at the start? Why do I keep doing this to myself? Why is it that in all my Yellow version runs that do not involve Mew, my team is critically weak to Jolteon? My last glitch-free run utilized Starmie and Charizard and I got blasted by the level 65 Jolteon at the end.

Now, you could say "why not use Venusaur since it resists Thunder", but... did you know? Venusaur is 4x weak to Bug in Generation I (Grass is weak to Bug, and Poison is weak to Bug in Generation I). And the strongest and only real Bug type move that exists in Generation I is Pin Missile, which Jolteon gets. The other two being Twinneedle (Beedril exclusive) and Leech Life which does about 4 damage until SM. So Venusaur would get shredded by Pin Missile. Which means, all three Kanto starters are critically weak to Jolteon.

I could try leveling Aerodactyl since it's the one thing that has a hope to outrun Jolteon. But... did you know? In Generation I, Aerodactyl can't learn Rock Slide or Earthquake. ... I guess I'll give it Hyper Beam and just try to blast Jolteon before it inevitably dies in a single hit. And then I'll just have to out-Jolteon the Jolteon with Jolteon.

Welp. That's a future me problem. ... Future me as in like... 2 days.

[askagamedev]

I'm interested in scaling of the enemies to the character level in those games that do that. In some of the open world games I play an encounter will be death until I level up (or skill up). When I do get higher level it gradually becomes more doable until eventually it is trivial. What kind of scaling mechanisms are common? Is it linear, a percentage boost/penalty compared to player, or something else?

In order to answer you question, I think it helps break down the way things work. Usually, any combat encounter in a game that has level differentials assumes certain underlying stats for the agents involved. All combat actors have some set amount of health, deals some amount of damage over time, has some specific abilities, perhaps has some defensive stats or mitigation abilities, etc. It is the difference between these values (or delta) that generally establish the relative ease or difficulty of a combat encounter. The greater the delta, the bigger the difference should feel to the player. It is by systemically adjusting these values that we can scale enemy encounters up and down as needed.

When we're considering difficulty scaling of enemies, there are a variety of things to consider - each resulting in a different kind of intended experience. It's important to recognize that scaling direction has vastly different effects on the game experience. Enemies at a significantly higher power level relative to the player can be unbeatable or they can just be challenging. That's a very different player experience than the opposite side of the spectrum, where we're considering how enemies that are often differing levels of easy or trivial. It is quite common for enemy scaling only to apply to those enemies deemed weaker than the player and not to enemies more powerful than the player.

If we don't scale anything at all, player power growth over time will naturally adjust power deltas. The natural consequence is that large power deltas will result in incredibly lopsided fights - both tougher enemies and weaker enemies. An enemy hitting for 5 damage is considered vastly different in terms of danger to a player with 10 health vs a player with 10,000 health.

In my experience, scaling enemies is primarily about keeping older content from being completely trivialized if we're still offering decent rewards there. This way, a higher level player can be incentivized to engage with the content (and obtain reasonable rewards at the same time), while those who don't want to are less aggravated while traveling through those areas. We usually do this by setting a maximum delta below the player - an enemy will never be weaker than this amount, relative to the player. That way, each enemy can present a lesser (though not completely trivial) challenge to the player, while still allowing players to traverse through that area without as much of a headache.

We sometimes set a maximum power delta above the player for higher level enemies as well. This way, players can recognize that they've entered a much more dangerous area and have an opportunity to reconsider and leave, rather than take any major penalties like death and any associated resources lost. This design choice makes the player experience a little more forgiving than an instant death might.

Some games actually do both at once by establishing a power band - enemies will never be weaker than X but will also never be stronger than Y. This way players who get significantly stronger than Y can feel like they've transcended and are now much more powerful than the older enemies. Similarly, the minimum power floor makes the area much more challenging for underleveled players, potentially leading to one-shots. Power bands are there to help establish a progression path for players. They can choose more challenging encounters if they desire, but it can help guide most players though a reasonable critical path.

[Join us on Discord] and/or [Support us on Patreon]

Got a burning question you want answered?

Short questions: Ask a Game Dev on Twitter

Long questions: Ask a Game Dev on Tumblr

Frequent Questions: The FAQ

[morrigan-rogue]

When it rains...

So these last couple of months have been awful. It all started with helping my brother. And even though I am still helping him, he constantly tells me how much he hates his life and everything about it. It really makes you feel like the help and support you are giving is unnoticed and unappreciated.

During helping him, I had a car accident. A very bad one. This led to serious and ongoing injuries. The injuries caused me to have to leave my job. They don't care about their staff. I signed an NDA but I was at a huge, nationwide hardware store. If you ever want to work there, go for it but only use it for experience and a reference. The bigotry, misogyny, bullying and harassment is real at this place. They were supposed to provide me with work as per my contract but because I kept asking questions and refusing to kiss arses, they refused to give me hours.

I also found out why my brother is constantly sick. His house was a mess. And I mean hoarders level bad. The smell knocked you back 3 feet on entering. His poor cat had eye infections, skin infections, and sinus infections. I have been working hard to heal His cat, all while being allergic to cats. He brought bacteria and viruses into my home as he was evicted. We all got very, very, very sick. Two months of being unable to move for 10 minutes without losing breath and becoming fatigued.

Then I had a house inspection during the height of this virus travelling through the home. I kept asking the agent to come when it was clean, but advised to bring PPE. She kept rescheduling. I had to pay for two skip bins to get rid of my brother's crap, and also to have the gardens maintained because I am physically unable to now. He has not helped. Apparently, the house was not acceptable, as they expected it to be show home presentable. Not even joking. And now, I have a week to move. I did everything they asked for. They want me out so they can raise the rent.

So, I am moving with my 4 kids and will soon be homeless as there is a major housing crisis in Western Australia. We cannot even get emergency accommodation as this is all full.

I need help. And for the first time, I am asking for it.

[aoawarfare]

The Kokand Autonomy

When we last left the Jadids in Tashkent, the Russian Settlers had created the Tashkent Soviet, which was a governmental body for Russians only. The Jadids and their fellow modernizers held a congress of Muslims in Kokand in response and created the Kokand Autonomy. This was an eight-man governmental body that answered to a 54-member council, with about 1/3 of those seats reserved for Russian settlers. Muhammedjan Tinishbayev was elected prime minister and minister of internal affairs, Mustafa Cho’qoy was named minister of external affairs, Ubaydulla Xo’jayev oversaw creating a people’s militia, and Obidjon Mahmudov became minister of food supply. 1917 ended with the Kokand Autonomy discovering discussing what an ideal government should be was easier than actually governing a territory in the midst of a civil war and famine. Meanwhile the Tashkent Soviet viewed an autonomous Turkestan as an existential threat.

It is now 1918 and the Kokand Autonomy is fighting for its life.

How (Not) to Govern

The Kokand Autonomy has been created, but now Tinishbayev and his ministers have to figure out what to do with this newly created governmental body. They faced three big problems: lack of funds and raging famine, lack of arms and an aggressive neighbor, and overall lack of governmental experience amongst its members.

Finances

As we’ve talked about in our other episodes, famine hit Turkestan hard starting in 1917, increasing ethnic clashes, creating groups of bandits who would later become the Basmachi in the rural areas, and providing the Russian Settlers the excuse they needed to settle old scores with their indigenous neighbors and forcefully establish themselves as agents of order and security. The Kokand ministers were aware of all of these issues, but also understood that they would not be able to government effectively without money first and foremost. However, they were unable to levy taxes and had no other sources of funding.

Since all of the cabinet ministers were inexperienced scholars, merchants, and members of the religious class with no governing experience, they relied on what they knew: talking to the people through various publications and venues and organizing mass demonstrations.

Mustafa Choqoy

[Image Description: A black and white photo of a man with soft, black hair and a long mustache. He has round cheeks. He is wearing a high collared shirt with three gold buttons holding the collar closed. A white collar peeks out over the collar.]

Their first demonstrations occurred in Andijan on December 3rd and Tashkent itself on December 6th. A second demonstration occurred in Tashkent a week later, and, this time, the demonstrators targeted the local prison that held political enemies arrested by the Tashkent Soviet when they first took power in November. Russian soldiers were called to suppress the demonstration which they did by firing into the crowd, killing several demonstrators, while others were crushed to death during the stampede that followed. The freed prisoners were eventually recaptured and executed by the Tashkent Soviet.

However, the Kokand Autonomy got this idea that public support could be turned into financial support, if approached the right way. To achieve this end, many members of the Kokand government traveled throughout Turkestan, holding fundraisers. For example, on January 14th, Choqoy and Mirjalilov held a fundraiser in Andijan and raised 17,200 rubles. However, their most successful financial scheme was a public loan which raised 3 million rubles by the end of February 1918. Yet, the Kokand Autonomy was still unable to levy taxes on its population, meaning it didn’t have a sustainable method of extracting wealth.

If we think back about our discussion on the IRA, we’ll remember that Michael Collins’ greatest contribution was actually in the financial realm. Without his national loan scheme, the IRA would not have survived or been as successful as it was. The money allowed the IRA to buy arms and create an alternative shadow government that opposed “established” British rule. This is the same exact situation the Kokand Autonomy was facing, but not only was it finding it hard to consistently raise funds and manage widespread famine and ethnic violence, it also didn’t have an IRA equivalent to protect it or enforce its edicts.

This brings us to the second biggest problem facing the Kokand Autonomy: the lack of arms.

Military Capabilities

In 1918, the Russian Settlers had most of the guns and were supported by the Russian soldiers and many POWs stationed in Turkestan. The Kokand Autonomy didn’t have many weapons nor did they have an army they could pull from for defense. Because Russia never conscripted its Turkestan population, the only potentially friendly troops with experience available to the Kokand government were the Tatar and Bashkir troops stationed in the region. But they weren’t enough to constitute an army and there were tensions amongst the Tatars, Bashkirs, and other peoples who made up Central Asia. Instead, the Kokand Autonomy had to rely on volunteers to form the bulk of their army. Similarly, to the region wide fundraisers, members of the Kokand government would travel throughout Turkestan to recruit soldiers. They were never able to create an army but seemed to attract enough volunteers to hold a parade in the old city of Kokand on January 9th, 1918.

            Once they had enough men to constitute a “army” they needed to find a commander. To that end, they offered command to Irgush. We talked about Irgush in our episode on the Basmachi, but he had been a cop before becoming Kokand’s commander-in-chief. What he inherited was a collection of unarmed men who had no officers to train them and no military experience. Meanwhile, the Tashkent Soviet was preparing to launch an attack on Kokand to crush the Kokand government.

Tashkent Soviet

The Tashkent Soviet was threatened by having an autonomous, Muslim government next door. Their anxiety was increased by the December demonstrations and news that the Kokand government was organizing an army (never mind that the violent actions of the Soviet itself justified Kokand’s need for an army).

We must remember this was happening within the context of WWI and by 1918, the Russian war front in the Caucasus had collapsed, opening a path for the Ottoman army. While the Jadids would always flirt with a deep love for the Ottomans, and even sent one of their ministers Mahmudov to Baku to negotiate with the Ottoman forces for grain, there is no evidence they ever made concrete plans for the Ottoman Empire to invade Central Asia and support their cause. The connection Mahmudov made with the Ottoman officer Ruseni Bey is an interesting movement of what-ifism, but never led to any solid plans. Instead, Ruseni Bey would travel to Kokand but arrive too late to be of any use. He would later organize a branch of the CUP in Tashkent and former members of the Kokand Autonomy would travel back and forth from Central Asia to Istanbul in 1918 and 1919, but again these efforts came to almost nothing, except to haunt the Bolsheviks.

            The second biggest driver for the Tashkent Soviet was the lack of food. As we’ve seen in our other episodes, food and resources had always been a painful point of contention for the Russian Settlers and the indigenous population. WWI made things worse with Russians attacking Muslim merchants for hoarding food and settlers getting into violent quarrels with the nomads of the steppe over food and land. As famine swept through Turkestan, the Russian Settler’s belief that the Muslims of Turkestan were hoarding mountains of food grew. When the Russians heard of the Kokand Autonomy, they were convinced that the government owned huge stocks of grain that they refused to share with the similarly starving Russians. This, in itself, was justification enough for a violent confrontation. They began recruiting in December of 1917, targeting former soldiers and POWs. On February 14th, 1918, they launched their assault.

It began with cannon fire joined in by indiscriminate machine fire, killing thousands and setting most of old Kokand on fire. The soldiers, once the meager defense fell apart, swarmed the city and began looting. According to one eyewitness account:

“All the stores, trading firms, and rows of stalls in the old city were looted, as well as all banks, and all private, more or less decent apartments. Safes…were broken open and emptied. The thieves gathered their plundered goods on carts and drove them to the railway and the fortress.” - Jeff Sahadeo, Russian Colonial Society in Tashkent, 1865-1923, pg. 202

The assault killed an estimated 14,000 people, most of whom were Muslim, and overthrew the Kokand government 78 days after its creation.

The Russians, however, proved to themselves that they could organize a full-scale military operation and would use these skills to continue their requisitions of indigenous property and food, using communist rhetoric to justify their actions. In doing so, they created a new problem for themselves: starving indigenous refugees fleeing from all over the region into Tashkent looking for food while the Soviet’s own armed soldiers turned into nothing short of armed thugs, using force to take the best of whatever food was around for themselves.

Without any indigenous body of government to speak up for them, the Muslims of Turkestan were at the mercy of their Russian neighbors and Basmachi warlords while their Russian neighbors were at the mercy of their only militant monster they created to survive.

Kokand Legacy

Despite being a failed attempt at autonomous government, the Kokand Autonomy mentally scarred the Russian settlers and the Bolsheviks. For decades after the Soviet Union established control over Central Asia, association with the Kokand Autonomy would be an eventual death sentence. The Soviets would associate the alternate government with bourgeois nationalism and Pan-Turkic aspirations which of course threatened the Soviet’s version of imperial communism. It also left their Central Asian borders open to outside interference whether from the Ottoman Empire or, much later, Afghanistan and the British.

When it comes to the Ottoman Empire, there is some evidence that the high command considered annexing Turkestan, but these were pipe dreams at the most. The closest the Ottomans came to threatening Russian rule in the Caucasus and Central Asia was taking Baku in 1918, but their lack of resources and four years of ruthless modern warfare prevented any further expansion. Even the fears about British or Afghani intervention (which we’ll discuss later in the season) were half-baked and revealed more about Russian fears than reality on the ground. Just as the British feared the Russian bogeyman during the Great Game, the Soviets went through a similar period of insecurity in Central Asia between 1918 and 1930.

            The Kokand Autonomy’s gravest sin, in Soviet eyes, was that it was an alternate form of government that maybe could have worked if it hadn’t been smothered during its infancy. While the members of the Kokand government were inexperienced, they were desperately trying to build governmental infrastructure through their fundraisers and army recruitment while also trying to win international recognition. Members of the government such a Behbudiy tried to bring their case to the Paris Peace Conference. Behbudiy was arrested by the Bukharan Emir and tortured to death before he could make it to Paris, but Mustafa Cho’qoy tried again after the fall of Kokand. Long story short, Mustafa fled Tashkent in 1918 and found his way to Ashgabat, where the Russian Mensheviks had just overthrown Soviet power and established its own autonomous government. Cho’qoy along with Vadim Chaikin, a Socialist Revolutionary Lawyer, send a telegram to Woodrow Wilson and the Paris Peace Conference, asking for the recognition of the territorial unity of Turkestan and its right to “free and autonomous existence in fraternal friendship with the people of Russia” (Khalid, pg. 82).

The peace conference ignored the telegram, but the Bolsheviks believed it was proof that Cho’qoy and the Kokand Autonomy were going to sell Turkestan out to imperialists. Even though the telegram went nowhere, it frightened the Bolsheviks, believing that “imperialists” would use it as an excuse to stamp out communism within Central Asia. Cho’qoy who would eventually resettle in Paris became the devil incarnate for the Bolsheviks and any association with him-past and present- proved fatal to many of Cho’qoy’s associates. In the end, the Kokand Autonomy was a non-Bolshevik approved form of government that risked being a rallying cry for the Soviet’s enemies and thus it had to be destroyed and anyone associated with it had to be monitored and eventually destroyed as well.

            The Kokand Autonomy’s final legacy is in what was created out of its fall. Men such as Irgush would flee to the rural areas of Turkestan and create the first true instance of what would known as the Basmachi. We talked about it briefly in our episode on the Basmachi, but after Kokand fell Irgush went to the Ferghana and by the end of 1918 had organized 4,000 fighters under his command. He would later ally with another Basmachi commander, Madamin Bey and hinder Bolshevik efforts to establish control form 1919 onward. Others, like Fitrat, Xo’jayev, and Tinishbayev fled to “safe” spaces within Turkestan and crafted new ways to protect the Muslims of Turkestan while achieving the Muslim led government they desired. Famine grew worse as the Tashkent Soviet violently requisitioned food and property from their Muslim neighbors and Turkestan saw a massive population decrease as people died or fled to neighboring regions. And the Bolsheviks and Mensheviks were still raging their war in the north, threatening Kazakh and Kyrgyz lands.

Turkestan was currently in its own little bubble of ethnic conflict and starvation, but the fall of Kokand created the circumstances that would enable Muslim reformists to find common cause with the approaching Bolsheviks while providing the fuel the Basmachi would need for a prolonged guerrilla campaign.