#i spend so much time on the enforcers..........ahem

[nickgerlich]

Take The Challenge

It seems that practically every month has some significance attached to it these days. Some months are well known, like June is Pride Month, October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, and February is Black History Month. There are also lesser-known months, like No-Shave November and September’s Prostate Cancer Awareness Month for the guys.

And then there’s the months who significance is completely crowdsourced and denoted by a hashtag, like the currently popular #nospendchallenge to accompany No Spend September. It is strictly a social media event, a movement if you will, to raise our spending consciousness. And, oddly enough, it is kind of the antithesis of everything this course is about, which is our consuming ways.

I’m not sure why it took until yesterday, after the month is 65% over, for this to pop onto my newsfeed, but maybe it’s because it has reached critical mass. TikTok alone has more than 18,000 posts related to it.

Of course, it is practically impossible to completely refrain from buying anything for a whole month, unless you have stockpiled a bunch of non-perishable food and live in a cave. But you can curtail, kick the can down the road, etc., just to get the feel of it all. And, the idea is scalable, meaning there’s no rigid enforcement. Do it for a week, two weeks, whatever, and become more aware in the process of how and where you spend your money.

I remember doing this back in the 90s, when I made much less money. I kept a daily log with pen and paper, tracking every cent I spent. It was very informative, and caused me to think a lot more before buying things, including coffees and lunch. I started packing my lunch instead. Today, I am still counting things, but this time around I am counting calories, protein, and walking miles, in an effort to better balance my diet and fitness. You know what? When you track everything meticulously, you think twice before indulging in snacks or beers, or skipping a workout so you can binge a show on Netflix.

It’s pretty easy to track whatever you want these days, thanks to mobile apps. There are apps for dieting and fitness, as well as expenses. It’s too easy, though, in the nearly cashless society in which we live to lose track of how much we spend, because you lose the tactile experience of handing over money. Unless you monitor your bank account online, you might miss the full impact of your spending ways. As for calories, you better log them one way or another as you consume them, or you will forget that Little Debbie fruit pie you ate yesterday on the way to your hike.

Ahem. No problem. I burned it off and more.

If you’re skeptical about No Spend September, you would be justified in being so. It applies only to nonessential purchases. While it is possible to shun frivolous purchases, like your PSL or craft beer, ultimately you’ll have to buy more toilet paper, groceries, etc. It’s a lot like dieting. You still have to eat something. Starvation, whether it is food or spending money, is not a viable option.

Still, I find great value in the exercise, but if a person returns to their profligate ways come October, it will have been for naught. We have all seen people go on massive weight loss crusades, only to slowly return to their former size and shape. There’s life to be lived after the goal is reached, whether it is losing 20 pounds or training for an athletic feat. Spending is no different.

All of which points to the ultimate truth from exercises like this: It’s about lifestyle change. It means that October surely follows September, and whatever we set in place this month needs to be carried forward to the next. And the next. And so on. I hiked both the Grand Canyon and New Mexico’s Wheeler Peak this summer, but it’s all part of an overall training for walking a Camino in Spain, hopefully next year. Look it up. Meanwhile, I keep going.

For all of you pursuing your dreams, whether it is saving money, losing weight, preparing for an event, I say “Stay the course!” And while No Spend September may run a little contrary to what this course is about, it’s not a bad thing. Besides, any regime that helps you get to know yourself a little better and develop some resolve, then good on you.

Dr “Spend Less, Eat Less, Walk More” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[wishfulsketching]

Did not mean to but ended up doodling young Silco again. And one smol Silco.

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

okay first, id like to be 🏴‍☠️ anon please <33. second, request idea for the christmas thingy; what if like reader threw a christmas party and invited yan neighbors izuku and kirishima (not poly) and like maybe reader has their house all  bougie white christmas decorated so both have existential crisis because they realize they both suck at decorating so maybe they like spend all their time working on their indoor decorations, trying to impress reader but shes like "☹️ i have no one to hang out with now" IF THAT MAKES ANY SENSE, i wrote all this as a brain dump and did 0 for grammar so

Thx for asking 🏴‍☠️ anon!!

I played around a bit with the concept and I hope that's ok

Honestly I think all of these will be in a more suburban au

Luv u guys🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Yandere Neighbor Wars: Missing Something

Kirishima 🥊 vs Midoriya🥦

⚠[Warning: Yanderes and their behavior, violence, competition, and law enforcement]⚠

🥊🥦Both Kirishima and Midoriya are very loving people so naturally falling for your expressive personality was nothing short of inevitable

🥊🥦Midoriya would be your main stalker who is trying to get enough pictures to make up for all the years he didn’t know you

🥊🥦Kirishima I’d feel wouldn’t originally go in order to watch you, in the beginning

🥊🥦First, he’d notice his neighbor’s super creepy vibes when he lingers near your house to get a drone he ‘accidently’ ran out of battery

🥊🥦He’d follow Midoriya around to find out what he’s doing only to realize he too shared his neighbor’s obsession

🥊🥦Stealing Midoriya’s photos and after being caught outright bartering for them too

🥊🥦“Here you can have the fork she used at my house if you give me the water balloon one”

🥊🥦Out of all of the Yanderes to fight against one another are Midoriya and Kirishima are the most amicable

🥊🥦Both are forgiving and friendly yanderes who can coexist with healthy competition (for a while)

🥊🥦But where they share their mellowness they also share their tendency to escalate things quickly

🥊🥦Touch my love-lose your job,

🥊🥦Speak to my love-You lose your arm

🥊🥦Oh you only needed to ask about your project? Oh, sorry for disturbing you guys. Good luck, hope you do well.

🥊🥦Borderline delusional about how you interpret their actions

🥊🥦“Hey Guys come on in.” You open the door wide open letting your friendly neighbors inside

🥊🥦While you turned to take their dishes to the table they’d have a pseudo friendly competition over who goes through the door first

🥊🥦“You go first, I insist.”

🥊🥦“Honestly man, if you just go in first it wouldn’t be such a problem”

🥊🥦You turn around to see them both in the house, glaring at one another

🥊🥦You ‘ahem’ and they look at you with smiles on their faces

🥊🥦You roll your eyes and show off your Christmas decorations

🥊🥦They look in shock at the White Christmas themed pillows on your couches, your white throw blankets, and even your appliances had some design of the holiday season

🥊🥦Practically having to tape their mouths shut with how hard they gushed over your house

🥊🥦You made a comment along the lines of ‘I can’t wait to see what your decorating is like’

🥊🥦They’d make their totally real excuses before running back to their houses

🥊🥦Usually I doubt these two would so much as leave the room when you expected something from them

🥊🥦But in the case of something having been missing in your set up would have them tearing through their home in minutes in search of this piece

It’d probably go something like this:

“Oh you can just put that there.” You pointed Kirishima, who had a steaming pot of (f/d) coming from the kitchen, to the designated place mat for the food. “(Y/n)! Can you come see if I’m cooking this right?”

“Sure” You rushed into the kitchen to look over Midoriya’s shoulder completely missing the dejected to envious look on Kirishima’s face. When you invited the two for a Christmas Eve dinner you didn’t expect both of them to be so eager about helping you with making food. So you were struggling to find tasks for both your puppy-like neighbors who would become perturbed if they didn’t have an equal or greater job than the other. It was like dealing with two twins who silently throw a tantrum when they're not equally balanced. You noticed how they practically ignored each other especially when you equally pay attention to each of them, you were hoping some holiday cheer could fix this.

“Are we almost ready (Y/n)?”

You broke out of your reminiscent drifting to nod to your broccoli neighbor. “Yeah so you can sit there and there, and I’ll sit here.” On your miniature rectangle shaped table you placed their seats (coordinated by their hair color) on the long side and you alone on the opposite side. I heard its harder to show aggression if your sitting right next to each other. The two neighbors didn’t exactly like their assigned seating but your house, your rules. Alright everything was almost set. You settled down and clapped your hands in sync with the males across the school. “Thank you for the food!”

You had made your plate and dove in but you realized you were missing something. “Darn! I forgot about my gravy boat!” You had lent it to your cousin who lived nearby with their boyfriend. You meant to pick it back up next time you visited but with busy schedules it gets hard to get a dish you don’t use often. As if setting off an alarm both neighbors fling themselves up to sprint out the house.

“Don’t worry love, I got it”

“I’ve got one back at my place, I’ll be back.”

There you sat as the boys ran to their respective house and you huffed like a tired mother. This is going way too far. You continue your food and put some of the gravy into a tiny cup before using it. In your pouting you miss the beginning of a wild brawl on your lawn. After both men ran to their houses and returned with a decorated gravy boat it was over, no longer could they just silently ignore one another when they’ve been stepping all over each other’s toes all morning (literally).

“You know it’d be pretty convenient for me if you just finished your meal and left.”

“And you know it would be the most manly thing to do? Leaving my girl alone.”

“Your girl? I’m sorry you must be confused, that's my future wife.”

“Wife? No, she’s my girlfriend because I plan to ask!”

“Well I will too but I can’t help it if small minds have small goals.”

With that Izuku turns to head into the house only to be pulled back by the rough hands of Eijiro which begins the tackling and eventually utter destruction of one another. By this time you had been tired of waiting and went to call them in only to see them fighting it out, in the snow, on your front lawn. Well I don’t mind dinner and a show. You move your chair, your plate, and set your phone to record watching as shoes were flying off, clothes were being ripped, and incoherent yelling could be heard muffled in the comfy warmth of your home. And from your front row seat you can see your other peeking neighbors in their lit up, decorated homes watching with interest at two grown men fight in the snow.

You and your neighbors decided (on the neighborhood group chat) to call the police when it got serious. And when they were finally separated by multiple police officers and arrested, you figured calling your cousin over to eat this food might be the only balance you’d get today. Hopefully getting your boat back.

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

If you were a Durmstrang Student (Draco x reader)

Warnings: Bodily harm, physical fighting, fluff, panic attacks, alluding to... Ahem... Doing the do

Notes: I'm not saying Durmstrang is like this all of the time. It's just an idea that came to mind. And also the fact that in the books that headmaster made me UNCOMFORTABLE.

So you spent your first year of school in Durmstrang

As an American

You obviously didn't do well considering: A) Language barrier and B) everyone was so serious all of the time

You took on a serious demeanor and the first time your parents saw the school they kind of realized you hated it.

You learned discipline from them but jesus, at what cost?

Finally your parents decided to find a better fit after moving elsewhere.

You basically did walkthroughs of different schools

And you saw Hogwarts and thought: "Damn. I wanna go here."

You running into a blonde boy who couldn't take his eyes off of you.

Apologizing for it and him noticing the uniform.

"Sorry, are you from Durmstrang?" He asked.

"Yes I am." You nodded.

You being able to sit in the great hall while your parents work out the kinks.

Draco telling you to sit with Slytherin

You telling the Slytherins about your time at Durmstrang

"Do you like it?" A student asked.

"Not really. Everyone is so... Emotionless. It's more of a military academy than a wizarding school." You muttered.

Draco noticed the look on your face.

You weren't exactly happy with it and he could tell that you were being honest

"Surely there's something you look forward to while you're there?" A student asked.

You pondered and then laughed.

"Does sparring count?" You asked.

Them not getting it.

"Sparring. Like fighting with rules?" You asked.

"Sorry you guys... Duel?" Someone else asked.

"No. Sparring. Like physical fighting not magic. We're trained with magic and physical strength it's why we're good at quidditch." You explained.

A few students went "Oooh" as a response

You were a bit of an odd ball to Draco but something told him you were definitely a Slytherin.

Well he was right.

After the great hall Dumbledore ultimately decided to allow you to transfer and took you back to the office for a sorting.

The hat pondered between houses and decided slytherin was the best for you.

The next school year Draco saw you in Diagon Alley but couldn't tell if he was hallucinating or actually seeing you.

Then he saw you on the train and gaped.

"You're... Here? And in Slytherin?!" He asked noticing the robes.

You laughed. "Yes, I was in the middle of the transfer process when you met me." You said.

He of course stuck with you, him finding out more personal things

Your birthday, your favorite things, more stories about Durmstrang

He was really excited to learn more about you.

You really enjoyed spending time with this boy

And as he listened to you he started to become really grateful that his parents decided against Durmstrang

Yes, they may have been prestigious. But considering he could tell something happened there that seemed to bother you, Draco was glad he never went.

Occasionally Draco would notice certain things here and there

Like a scar on your hand that went to your wrist

The scar on your neck that you tried to hide

Why were there so many scars?

There was a reason indeed for those.

And that was that damn headmaster

For the less obedient students, physical punishment was not off limits

Your parents were unaware of that until after you transferred

You usually stood up for the little guys and often got in trouble for it

You hated him. You hated that headmaster more than you could say.

Whenever you were asked about your scars you'd go quiet and appear to just be seething.

Draco couldn't tell why you'd get so upset over them but he never asked

Because of your need to stand up for the little guy however, you did snap at Draco for mocking Longbottom

He didn't understand why you cared but you clearly did

Harry noticed it and so did Ron

Both of them started talking to you, which naturally pissed off Draco

And some insults were thrown and you showed little to no reaction

You may have been a little shorter than the boys at the school but when you go to a school where physical altercations were a regular thing, verbal insults don't bother you as much.

You did however hate hearing them from Draco. That upset you.

He could tell he went too far and later apologized around Christmas

You accepted the apology and his attitude slowly began to change from stuck up to more sarcastic than anything.

His parents were pleased to know his new friend was a Slytherin and from Durmstrang.

Your parents worked for the ministry (thus why you moved multiple times) and you ended up meeting them at a dinner over the summer

"Did you enjoy your time at Durmstrang?" Narcissa asked.

Your eyes almost seemed to glaze over, all of the adults took notice and immediately knew something was off

"....Yes. I did." You said in almost a trance

Draco rose a brow noticing you'd never answered like that before

And then he realized: the times he'd heard you answer were to students. You never answered the adults when asking that.

It was most likely an enforced reaction for you.

"...How was it really?" Lucius asked.

"...I need to be excused." You said leaving abruptly.

Your mother sighed and shook her head. "She hasn't been the same since her time there..." Your mother admitted.

"It's like they still are controlling her, even when she's not there." Your father sighed.

Both of Draco's parents were now glad they never enrolled Draco there.

"Can I go look for Y/n? She looked upset." Draco asked.

Both of your parents nodded and he found you rather quickly.

You were in the library, sitting by a small fire in the fireplace.

You looked like you were crying.

"Y/n?" Draco asked.

You wiped your eyes. "Hi Draco." You said.

"You don't have to pretend, it's just me." He assured.

You sighed. "Why does everyone always want to know about that damn school?" You muttered.

"Probably because most people stay there when they're enrolled." He shrugged.

You shook your head. "It's not fair that I lost a year of my time to them." You muttered.

He kneeled next to your seat. "Then we'll have more fun to make up for that year." Draco assured.

You smiled at him and he smiled at you

It was the first time your heart really skipped a beat with him and it certainly wouldn't be the last.

The next time you saw Draco his hair wasn't slacked anymore and he was taller

He noticed you were a lot more prettier than usual too

The two of you never left each other's side unless you had to

You ended up having fun with him that year

You were the one to stop Buckbeak from injuring Draco that year

You stood there between the two, making sure that the creature wouldn't harm him.

"Rest easy there little guy... He's all bark and no bite don't worry." You said to Buckbeak, bowing to him.

Buckbeak bowed to you and you smiled.

Draco found you very attractive when that happened too, your smile usually made him notice you more.

Hogsmeade being really fun.

Ron and Hermione both laughing as you had a snowball fight with them.

Draco reading in the corner trying to avoid talking to them

Him feeling the snow hit his arm.

"Did you just... Throw snow at me?" He asked.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh lighten up Draco--"

And then a snowball hurdled towards her and you were laughing.

Having a moment where you both tripped midsnowball fight and fell onto each other.

You being a blushing mess and him helping you up.

You screaming after Harry just popped up next to you.

Poor bastard forgot that you went to the wizarding equivalent to a military academy so you kind of....

Drop kicked him.

"Oh my God Harry I am so sorry!" You said helping him up.

"Christ Potter! Where'd you come from!?" Draco said surprised.

"Can you stand, oh God tell me you can stand!?" You said panicked.

He assured you he was fine.

And then asked you to show him how to do that.

So it turned to you teaching the group self defense

No surprise, your best class was "Defense against the dark arts"

Draco loved seeing you passionate about it too

His parents sending you a Christmas gift

Which was a cane! That doubled as a blade

You and Draco were the only two that knew that and it was going to stay that way

Lucius' mind set when he bought it was "Watch that headmaster try to touch her now. Bastard."

No one really understood how terrifying you found that headmaster until the boggart lesson

No surprise: it was him

Everyone was confused and Remus saw the pure terror on your face

You were so scared and it was obvious from the shaking

Remus handled it and talked to you after class

He knew something was up and hated to see you anxious

You would stay in his classroom when the younger students would bombard you with questions

Draco would sit with you two

Days where you both sat in there, him sitting in a seat and using another as a footrest while you sat next to him smiling and laughing.

Oh Remus knew you liked him

You noticed Hermione showing at random times

You were confused until the day that you and the group found out that Lucius somehow caught wind of the fact that Buckbeak almost hurt you and Draco.

You guys went on a rescue mission

Draco was with you guys because if it was important to you then damn it, it was important to him

So the plan didn't exactly... Go to plan

Finding out your favorite teacher was a werewolf wasn't in the plan

Neither was finding out that that same teacher was basically housing a convict.

Or discovering Harry's parents were killed by Ron's pet rat

You almost killing Peter with your Christmas gift but being caught off guard by the fact that REMUS WAS A WEREWOLF

All of you swearing not to tell another soul about anything.

The group becoming closer to Draco.

Draco's family actually offered to have you over for the summer and you accepted

Lucius noticing Draco's smile when you were present

You enjoying Narcissa's company.

You were a little oblivious to them being supporters of the dark Lord but that mainly came from the fact that weird behavior wasn't unusual in Durmstrang

Going to the World Quidditch game and basically freezing up because the Durmstrang headmaster was near you.

You having to relocate with Draco because you were on the verge of a panic attack

"H-He's here Draco-- I-I can't" you hyperventilated.

Arthur Weasley finding you. "Oh dear... You poor thing, why don't you come with us to the tent, we'll make tea?" He offered.

You accepted and Harry swore he'd punch the shit out of the headmaster if he came near you.

You all laughed but then you heard screaming.

You basically defending them, again with your Christmas present from Lucius

Coming face to face with a death eater and having a blade put to your neck

Draco sneaking up behind them and knocking them out before bolting.

Somehow you were calm for that.

Truth be told: that wasn't uncommon at Durmstrang either.

The school year starting off with you finding out that Durmstrang would be with you

You naturally freaked the hell out

Especially when they introduced the schools and the headmaster noticed you.

You were shaking the entire time

Then there was one student who you saw that seemed to calm you

Viktor Krum

He took his seat with you and almost seemed to be like a big brother

Course Draco was so jealous he couldn't see that

You seemed a little less anxious when Krum was present and that mainly came from the fact that when you were in trouble at Durmstrang, Krum would step in.

You being excited for Viktor when he was selected

Then said excitement disappearing when Harry's name popped out.

You asking if there was anyway to take his place, practically begging.

You couldn't. But you were allowed to help him if he asked for it.

Then the first trial came up.

And the only thing you heard was "Y/N, HELP!"

You immediately ran down there and fought a fucking dragon.

Harry narrowly escaping with the egg and you.

You coming back to the stands and Draco being so relieved that he kissed you

In front of everyone.

Krum smiling like an idiot because his little sister was in love.

Then it became you and Draco doing things together all of the time

Days where you sat in the astronomy tower, looking out at the school and enjoyed each other's company.

Draco holding you in his arms while reading in the common room.

Nose kisses. He loved it when you kissed his nose

Asking you to the Yule ball

You saying yes because DUH.

You ending up being apart of Viktor's Trial

Draco being confused on where you were until someone mentioned that a faculty member asked you to be a part of this.

Draco's heart dropping

Viktor coming out of the water with you.

Your first words were "Whoever decided this would be fun right before winter can actually bite me!"

Fleur coming up empty handed and you knowing there was a child down there

You dropping everything and charging towards the water

The Durmstrang headmaster stopping you and saying "This isn't your challenge girl."

You pulling back your arm with this look that could kill

You growling out "I don't care." Before jumping back in.

Draco almost passing out because he thought he was going to lose you.

Viktor assuring him that you could do this.

You coming back up with Gabrielle

Draco wrapping you in his coat and holding your hands while breathing on them to keep you warm.

Him walking you back to the common room while everyone else was celebrating

Maybe he helped you change

Him seeing the full extent of why you truly feared the headmaster.

Scars were basically all over your back

He didn't care about them being there, he cared about why they were there.

You didn't actually do anything.

I mean yes: he did see you shirtless

But other than that he turned his back.

He wouldn't stop glaring at that headmaster whenever he was close by.

Actually, most of Slytherin seemed to be pissed.

Because when one of their own was hurt, that's when you should expect DEATH.

The Yule ball coming up and Narcissa being made aware of the fact that you were Draco's date.

Her sending you a dress

Viktor walking you down the stairs to Draco and then waiting for Hermione

Draco thinking "She is so out of my league"

You and him dancing together with smiles and laughter

Him kissing you before going to his dormitory

Both of you thinking about each other the whole night until you both went to the common room and fell asleep on the couch

No one daring to separate you two

Watching the final challenge and seeing Harry come back

Cedric being on the ground and Harry in a shocked state

You sprinting down there to make sure he was okay

"H-He wanted me to bring him back.... His parents"

You just hugged your friend until Mad eye came over

You knowing damn well that this was just the beginning of something massive

You preparing yourself over the summer by physical training.

The Malfoy's acting even weirder than last time

You learning that they were supporters of the dark lord

Them wanting to genuinely keep you safe

You agreeing to join up when the time came

Then you turning into a double agent

Both you and Draco did actually

Your shocked faces when Snape was in the Manor

Umbridge really liking you for some reason

You secretly helping Fred and George

You finding out that Umbridge was hurting students and you stepping in

Then when she threatened you-- Draco stepping in with some more serious threats.

When she was dragged off by centaurs you all celebrated

Maybe Draco and you celebrate in your own way

Maybe you two had some... Fun

Him waking up next to you and thinking he was the luckiest guy in the world

You and him becoming inseparable

You finding out about the battle at the ministry

You and Draco sneaking off to the Burrow and finding Harry so emotionally drained.

You hugging Harry as he just cried for hours

Draco knowing damn well this was going to get ugly very soon

Him knowing there was a plan in the works with the dark lord

He just didn't know that the plan would involve Voldemort staying in the Manor

Pt 2 coming next

[atinywriting]

Bloody Pen | Wooyoung Serial Killer AU Chapter 5

Rumination

The kinda very long overdue Ch 5 rewrite is here! Some things are the same but it’s mostly different from before.

Ch 6 will be out in a few hours so everyone reads this first ^^

“Any fingerprints at all, Mingi?”

The tall man in front of Hongjoong was examining the note and puppet doll found on the crime scene. To Hongjoong’s disappointment, Mingi shook his head.

“Nope. None at all.”

“Of course.” Hongjoong huffed. “Of course, they leave no fingerprints behind. Just great,” he muttered.

It had been a few days since the body and evidence had been transported to the forensic center. By this time, a few traces would’ve been found that easily lead to the suspect.

Then again, he supposed it was foolish to think that the killer would leave fingerprints behind this time. As he suspected earlier, this was no normal killer. Most of the time (or at least in his opinion based on his experience so far), murders were solvable because the perpetrators were still human.

Most of the time, it would be their first time killing and it was done of out emotion (anger, fear, jealous, etc.). They would panic, realizing they’ve committed a crime and try their best to clean up the crime scene. And it was their panic that would be their undoing, as it would cause them to rush and accidentally leave traces behind that got them caught even easier.

Or, they were just plainly stupid and taunted the law enforcement by taking credit of the crime. He remembered one time some idiot, who thought he was anonymous, called the department about crimes the police weren’t even aware of in the first place and said that he did it. By doing so, the fool had clued them in and aided their investigation. All they had to do was trace the call.

But, it was clear for this case that this killer was no dunce. They were deliberate and careful. That was evident enough with the way they put extra effort into setting up the crime scene themselves as if it were a movie set.

No weapon was found. It was most likely disposed of. No fingerprints were found. The killer most definitely was wearing gloves as they wrote the note and set up the crime scene.

Hongjoong sighed. There was no point complaining over spilled milk after all. This was just one inconvenience. There was still plenty of other types of evidence that could be discovered later. He’d just have to press on forward till they found that one damning evidence that trapped the criminal.

“Were you able to identify the body by fingerprints at least?”

At the question, Mingi’s eyes instantly brightened up. “We were!”

Placing the note and doll back into their respective sealed bags, Mingi walked over to a drawer and pulled out a file. He handed it over and Hongjoong skimmed through it. Quickly in a notepad, he scribbled down a summary.

Pat Miller. Resident of Nocturne since birth. No family. Unemployed for 40 years.

“Thank you, Mingi.”

“Good luck!”

It was a good start. Hongjoong now had a picture of the victim he could use to ask people if they’ve seen the victim around before death.

Now for the next stop.

“Well?” Hongjoong asked, standing behind San as he examined the bugs under a microscope.

“Good news,” San replied. He turned his head to Hongjoong. “The flies are regional to this area. So, no need to worry about the crime scene being somewhere else entirely. The stage of the maggot’s are consistent with autopsy. Dead for three days.”

Even more better. Combined with the victim’s information, it effectively had cut down the investigation parameters to Nocturne only.

Speaking of autopsies. “Is Wooyoung here?” Hongjoong asked.

“Yup! Checked up on him a bit earlier. I think he might actually be done with the autopsy by now.”

Nodding, Hongjoong rushed out the door to the next room. It took only a few minutes of jogging to get there. As he opened the door, he let out a sigh of relief that Wooyoung was still here.

Not that he had anything against the others, but he trusted Wooyoung’s judgement the most. Approaching closer, Hongjoong noticed something was a little off.

Wooyoung was just staring. Staring off into space with a forlorn expression that Hongjoong had never seen on Wooyoung’s face before. Clearing his throat, Hongjoong tapped on Wooyoung’s shoulder. Wooyoung jumped a little, whirling around to meet Hongjoong.

“Hey, there. Did you find anything new?”

“Oh, 0.20 percent of alcohol was found in his bloodstream.“

“That much? He must have been drunk as shit.”

“Well you have to keep in mind, it could be a false positive. Scores are only really valid within 48 hours. And, we were one day late when the body was found.”

True. However, it was still a lead. Already the cogs in Hongjoong’s head was turning. The victim with his background info most likely was a stereotypical drunkard that drank alcohol to forget the pain. This made them a much easier target to kill.

Whether the killer dragged him off or convinced him to come with them, there could be potential witnesses that saw the victim before his death. And if Hongjoong was lucky, the witnesses saw the killer with the victim. He could start with the bars or any store that sold alcohol (which luckily, there weren’t too many of either options).

“Thank you, Wooyoung. This is really helpful. Was there anything else on the body?”

Wooyoung shook his head. “Not even hair fibers.”

Not that anyone would know, he thought to himself. Everyone trusted him. They’d never stop to think that he cleaned up the evidence while examining the body.

Hongjoong groaned. Of course. What a pain. Why couldn’t this killer make it easier for him and be an idiot like all the others?

Looking back at Wooyoung, Hongjoong noticed the same forlorn expression he had seen a few minutes ago.

Okay, something was up.

“Wooyoung, are you hiding something?”

At the question, Wooyoung stiffened. There was no way Hongjoong could be suspecting him now, could he?

“Seriously, you look like crap. Did something bad happen?”

“Oh...” All the tension that had suddenly built up in Wooyoung relaxed. “I just randomly remembered some really bad memories. That’s all.”

Hongjoong nodded sympathetically. “Well if you want to forget the bad times, drinks are on me—“

He caught himself upon immediately noticing Wooyoung’s revolted look at the suggestion.

Ah right.

“Sorry. Forgot you weren’t that fond of alcohol.” Hongjoong scratched the back of his head sheepishly. “I’ll just treat you to some nice dinner or something.”

Hongjoong went back to his notepad and scribbled down the newly found information. He sighed, seeing the little amount of notes he’d written.

This seriously was going to be a pain to solve.

Wooyoung patted him on the shoulder. “I’m sure you’ll catch them like you always do.”

“Thanks for the reassurance.”

As soon as Hongjoong left, Wooyoung let out a sigh of relief. Honestly, why did he even worry? Hongjoong trusted him too much. He would never suspect him.

After changing out of his work uniform, he walked out of the building and put his hood over his head. He put in some earphones and began to wonder around town. He needed something to distract himself. Something to keep his mind off.

But it was useless, his mind would only keep on going back to you. Especially after what happened the other day with you.

Why did you suddenly just remind him of the past?

Before, he was sure that he buried his past into the back of his mind. It had been years since the past haunted him.

So, why now?

“Excuse me.”

He suddenly felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned around. His eyes widened at the sight and his heart almost stopped.

Red lipstick. Red nails.

It brought back horrible memories. Terrible memories of that locked room. The locked room where he was forced to...

He stopped his train of thoughts. No, he rationalized. That person was gone from his life. He blinked and the memories flashing in his mind disappeared, replaced by a petite woman scantily clad with prominent red lips and nails in his line of sight.

He sighed in relief. He was right after all. It wasn’t the same person. Just someone that happened to have similar features.

“Hello there, sir,” she purred and batted her eyelashes. She leaned into him and trailed a finger up his arm. “Would a handsome man like you… want to spend the night with me?” She whispered in his ear, “I’ll make you feel good.”

Wooyoung flinched at her touch and shivered. She was too close. This random stranger wasn’t the same person, but she did awfully remind him a lot of that horrid woman.

“Ahem, sir?” She was still patiently waiting.

Annoyed and realizing that she wasn’t taking no for an answer, he swallowed a breath. He strained, plastering on the sweetest smile he could muster.

“Why not? You look absolutely beautiful,” he lied through his teeth.

He had to get rid of her. He had to get rid of the disgusting sensation that was crawling throughout his body.

She giggled and held on to his arm. The entire way as they walked to his house, he was stiff as she clung to his arm. As soon as they reached his house and entered, his hands lunged for her neck and tightly grasped around it.

Wooyoung’s eyes burned with emptiness and anger as she uselessly struggled, screaming silently and gasping for breath. Her face began to turn into a sickening color as her eyes bulged out. After a few minutes, her hands fell to her side. Satisfaction ran through his body as the life left it’s eyes. He let go and the body fell with a thump.

Once the euphoric rush had ended, Wooyoung sighed and ran his hand through his hair. This put a damper on his plans. He wanted to plan out the victim and still needed more research to execute the plan. But no matter. The show must go on. This could be a trial run, and if it failed, he’d just dispose of the body and do the plan perfectly next time.

Wooyoung moved the carpet over and lifted the floorboard. The empty basement would be cold and dry enough for the body to not decompose fast. He kicked the body down the steps and closed up the basement.

He wrapped his arms around his self, feeling the touch burning into his skin. It reminded him of...

No, he didn’t want to remember at all. He had to get rid of this feeling somehow. He tried washing himself with a shower, but the sickening sensation still lingered. The sensation crawled under his skin, clawing at him.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t get rid of it. Suddenly, his thoughts went back to you.

Maybe he’d feel better if he saw you again?

He threw on some clothes, bolted out of his house and jumped into his car. The drive was only a few minutes. As he went up to your door, he paused. His finger pressed the bell and that opened almost instantly.

“Wooyoung!?” Your eyes widened and you almost jumped back in surprise. It had been a few days since he abruptly left. You honestly were about to give up hope, thinking you had randomly screw everything up.

But, he was here again.

You recollected yourself and cleared your throat. “Good morning. Um, what brings you here?”

“Well... I was wondering if we could just hang out.”

“Oh!” Your eyes immediately brightened. “Sure! That is, if you don’t mind helping me babysit?”

“Babysit?”

You nodded. “A friend of mine had something come up, so I’m looking after her kid for today. I was just about to take him to the park and then you showed up.” You turned your head back and called out, “Soohyun! Are you done?”

Soohyun?

Wooyoung almost flinched hearing the name. It had been years since he heard that name. As he heard little, light steps run to the door, he peered over your shoulder and his eyes widened once they laid on the child.

He almost gasped.

Why did this keep on happening? Memories once again appeared in Wooyoung’s head. In your place and Soohyun’s place, he saw two familiar faces that merged with yours and Soohyun’s.

No. He took a deep breath to ground himself in reality once again. Those two people were gone forever. He blinked several times and the image disappeared.

“Soohyun,” You gentle pulled the shy child away from your legs and put him in front of Wooyoung. “This is Wooyoung. Say hi.”

He looked up at Wooyoung before looking down at his feet again. “H-hi.”

At the sight, Wooyoung’s heart softened and he bent down to Soohyun’s level. Curiously, Soohyun’s wide, innocent eyes peered up at Wooyoung again.

Wooyoung smiled and held out his hand in front of Soohyun. “Hello. I’m Woohyun. It’s nice to meet you.”

It looked as if Soohyun’s shyness had broken down a little and he smiled back up at Wooyoung. He held out his small hand and shook Wooyoung’s hand.

Internally squealing at the sight, you composed yourself and looked at the two with a smile.

“Let’s head to the park, shall we?”

When you reached the park, it was filled with the unexpectedly loud screeches of Soohyun and Wooyoung running around as you watched. Honestly, it felt like you were one that had randomly been tagged in to help babysit and not Wooyoung.

Not that you minded though. It was adorable seeing the two of them get along so well.

“Arrghhh! The tickle monster’s coming to get you!” Wooyoung was creeping around in a crouched position with his hands out like claws. “Where are you?”

Hiding behind a tree, Soohyun giggled. Wooyoung smirked hearing the sound and quietly crept up behind the tree. Then...

“Gotcha!”

Soohyun screamed and tried to run. But he was easily scooped up into Wooyoung’s arm and he was subjected to a vicious amount of tickling. Giggles and screams filled the air.

You smiled, chuckling to yourself as you held out your phone to film the moment. It would be a cute moment you saved to watch later whenever you felt stressed. A familiar sound suddenly rang nearby. You turned your head towards the noise.

It was an ice cream truck!

Soohyun whirled around and excitedly screamed, “Ice cream!”

Somehow managing to slip himself from Wooyoung’s grasp, he ran up to you and tugged at your sleeve. He jumped up and down energetically in place.

“Can we get ice cream? Pretty please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?”

You nodded eagerly. You were about to pull out your wallet from your purse before Wooyoung’s hand laid on yours. You turned to him with a questioning gaze.

“I can buy ice cream for us.”

“What? No, I’m paying.” You protested. “You paid for our date last time, it’s my turn!”

“A proper gentleman always pays—“ But just as Wooyoung reached into his pocket, he felt nothing.

Right. He didn’t have his wallet with him since he rushed to your apartment.

Realizing what Wooyoung’s surprised face meant when he was feeling his pockets, you smirked.

“You dumb dumb.” You playfully stuck your tongue out at Wooyoung. With a smug, triumphant look, you took out your wallet and smiled at Soohyun.

“What do you want Soohyun?”

“Chocolate!” He beamed back with a wide smile.

After paying and finishing up your ice creams, you and Wooyoung sat watching Soohyun as he finished up his ice cream.

“Hey, Soohyun?” Wooyoung asked.

“Hm?” Soohyun looked up at Wooyoung with his big, innocent eyes.

“Who do you like better? Me or ____?”

You looked at Wooyoung confusingly. Where did this come from all the sudden?

Soohyun hesitated for a moment as he looked between you two. With his free hand, he pointed at you.

“What!?“

You bursted out laughing almost maniacally as Wooyoung looked at Soohyun with the most betrayed face you had ever seen in your entire life.

“I played with you all day!”

“But...” Soohyun looked up at Wooyoung innocently before going back to eat his ice cream. “____ gave me ice cream.”

At the answer, Wooyoung slouched down his seat in utter betrayal and defeat. He turned his head to the side with a pout. You leaned your head on Wooyoung’s shoulder and looked up at him.

“Aww, are you salty?” You snickered to yourself and sang under your breath, “Sore loser.”

“I heard that.”

“What are ya gonna do Wooyoung? Tickle me to death?”

Wooyoung’s eyes looked down at you and they began began to sparkle with a mischievous glint that made you gulp. You slowly scooted away, chuckling nervously as you waved your hands in front of you.

“Come on. I was just jo—“ You squeaked, laughing as you were suddenly attacked by a barrage of tickles. “Wooyoung! Stop-“ You tried to stop him through your fits of giggles, but it wasn’t working at all.

“What are the magic words?”

“I’m—“ You wheezed, gasping out for breath as he continued his tickle attack. “I’m sorry!”

He finally stopped, laughing at your pouting self before pressing a quick kiss on your cheek.

“Eww.”

The both of you turned your heads to Soohyun, who was looking at you two with a scrunched up face filled with disgust. With a giggle at the sight, you stroked Soohyun’s head.

“Sorry. We won’t do it in front of you again.“

After a few more hours, it was unfortunately time for Soohyun to go home. After you all went back to your apartment, there your friend was waiting patiently in front of your door.

“Mommy!” Soohyun ran at his mom with open, wide arms and hugged her legs.

“Ah hello there, my sweetie!” She looked up and finally took notice of Wooyoung, who had been trailing behind you. She turned to you with her eyebrow raised up. “Who’s this?”

“Ah, this is Wooyoung. My... um... b-boyfriend?” You blushed as you spluttered out the last word.

Her eyes lit up and she squealed. “Oh my god! I thought you’d be alone forever!”

“Excuse me!?” You looked at her, almost insulted at the statement.

“Well, you know. You’re always cooped up in your room. I was worried you’d die alone writing in your dark, messy room forever.”

“I-I didn’t ask to be attacked like this,” You grumbled.

She giggled and turned to Wooyoung. She held her hand out.

“Well, thank you for looking after Soohyun. And thank you for keeping my friend from forever being alone.”

“HEY!”

“It’s no problem.” Wooyoung shook her hand. “It was nice meeting you.”

Your friend nodded and turned to Soohyun. Soohyun automatically held on to her sleeve.

“Let’s go.”

Before the two disappeared out of you and Wooyoung’s line of sight, Soohyun turned around with a big smile and waved his hand.

“Bye, Woo!”

A nostalgic wave washed over Wooyoung at the nickname. He waved back with a bittersweet smile until the pair disappeared.

“Wooyoung?”

He turned back to meet your concerned gaze.

“Is something wrong? You looked kinda sad.”

“Oh, sorry.” Wooyoung placed in his hands in his pockets. “I had a little brother named Soohyun too. And this Soohyun reminded me a lot of him...”

“I wanted to say sorry. I probably shouldn’t have pried on personal info.”

“No, it’s alright.” Wooyoung shook his head and patted the top of your head. “You didn’t know. So, don’t blame yourself.”

Relief ran through you and you smiled. “Well, I guess I’ll be seeing you sometime again—“

“Actually, I was wondering if I could stay over for the night?”

At the question, your brain practically short circuited and fried as you sat there with an increasingly growing red face.

“Is- Is there a reason why?”

“Well, I remembered something bad earlier.” Wooyoung shifted back and forth. “And, I still feel kinda bad. But, whenever I’m around you, I feel better. So yeah... just wondering. You can say no.”

The sudden sorrow look that Wooyoung had a few minutes ago flashed in your head. You couldn’t really say no.

It wouldn’t hurt, right?

“Uh, well y-yeah sure!” You stammered. “I could sleep on the couch. I mean, sure my back’s going to hurt later, but you’re the guest and—“

“Or, we can just share the bed.”

At the suggestion, your face had somehow grown a darker shade of red than possible.

“O-Oh... Okay then,” You weakly squeaked out. “I guess we can share.”

Wooyoung smirked. “I’m not going to bite, you know. I mean, unless you want me to.”

You turned around to hide your burning face and unlocked the door. “Shut up. Shut up, before I change my mind.”

Thankfully, he stopped and the both of you stepped in.

“Sorry, I don’t really any clothes for you to sleep in.”

Wooyoung shook his head. “It’s fine.”

After changing into your pajamas in the bathroom, you slowly emerged from the door. Too shy to look at Wooyoung, you got into bed and turned to your side away from him. You felt the bed mattress shift and you stiffened, feeling on arm wrapped on your waist. Your heart was beating so loudly in your ears, you swore Wooyoung could definitely hear it.

“Is this okay?”

You gulped nervously and nodded. “I like it a lot,” you admitted quietly.

With a small hum, Wooyoung buried his head into the crook of your neck. It was nice being this close to you. An unknown feeling stirred in Wooyoung’s heart as he held you. You were so warm and comforting. His eyes eventually shut and he fell asleep.

But unexpectedly, he fell into a dream.

Or rather, a nightmare.

A nightmare he never wanted to remember. A nightmare he thought he had buried into the back of his mind.

[queen-scribbles]

📊 🚼 💋 for Tavi; ⛔️ 📢 👧 🌎 🎭 🎁 for Adi; ⏰ 💔 🐜 🌎 for Charity; 🔗 🌠 🍟 🌺 for Emiri?

TAVI

📊 - How does your muse feel about the state of the world? Could it be better? Could it be worse?

Oh, the world’s a fuckin’ mess, but there are pockets of beauty hidden in with all the terrible shit. Find those and life’s not so bad. Like almost everything, the world could always be both better and worse, depending. She’s pretty sure, though, that she’s never going to see the absolute worst it could be, unless things unravel way faster than she thinks they will in the aftermath of the Eothas Shenanigans in Deadfire.

🚼 - How would your muse react to losing a child? How would they cope?

OH boy. She would not handle it well, I think. At all. I mean, no parents copes well with losing their child, but given she’s already lost her parents and brothers (though she potentially has Khellin back by this point), I think it would be even worse for her. There would be lots of drinking the first week or two, lots of swearing, isolating herself from everyone except Aloth bc crying is a level of weakness she’s only comfortable showing around him. She would probably have some very strong, decidedly uncomplimentary words for Hylea(starting with (”FUCK YOU, WHY?”).

Though, I guess, there are a few influencing factors that might change things a little; how old a child, how they die… (esp. if, say, a godlike who gets *ahem* converted for their parent god she would be very. scary. indeed. But that’s a plot bunny I don’t want to chase bc that way lies many sad and terrifying things)

There would be healing eventually, though never complete, bc Tavi is nothing if not resilient.💋 - How does your muse feel about people who cheat? Do they see a reason for it, or is it completely immoral?

Fuckin’ assholes. She wants to break their faces in. In her opinion, if you’re in a relationship you need to cheat on(that you feel safe cheating on), just leave it. 

ADI

⛔️ - How does your muse react to others breaking the law? If they would do it themselves, what is their reasoning?

She’s not really comfortable with it, but in some circumstances understands and would turn a blind eye if there was no other way for her to help. She knows sometimes parents steal food to feed their children etc. And in some places the law–whether the statutes or the people enforcing them–is corrupt, and in those situations, her view is more “do the best you can to help and protect the innocent”👧 - What is your muse’s relationship like with their siblings? Who do they get along with best?

She gets along pretty well with all her siblings. None of them are as curious as she is, so their eyes tend to glaze over a little when she goes off rambling about something new she learned, but she forgives them for that. She’s probably closest with Ben, actually. He’s the oldest of the siblings, ten years older than Adi. When the next kid down the line came along(Tia, three years younger than Adi), their mom was a little overwhelmed. Ben wound up playing with Adi a lot to keep her busy and from being too clingy while Mom was taking care of Tia. They bonded, and she’s been really close to him ever since.🌎 - Does your muse want to change the world? How would they go about it?

(I hope this is right. The symbol didn’t show up, but there’s only one on the list like that, so hopefully I still got the right question xD)

She has no large-scale dreams of changing the world, no. But she wants to see as much of it as possible, and leave everywhere she goes better than she found it, so between those two things, she probably will change it, at least a little.

🎭 - How does your muse handle their emotions? Do they bottle them up or pour them out as soon as they start to feel?

Oh, she’s very open about her emotions, especially when she’s excited about something. Negative stuff she might try to hide, but she has a very expressive face, so it never lasts long. This girl walks around with her heart on her sleeve no matter what.

🎁 - Does your muse celebrate their birthday? If yes, how do they celebrate? If no, why not?

Yes. At home, there would be a big meal with all her favorite foods–and Ben probably invented some new dish that she’ll love as a surprise–her family spends the day together, there might be presents, and she definitely spends a lot of time reading.

CHARITY

⏰ - Does your muse feel like they need to do things quickly or do they take their time?

I mean, once she has a task in mind, she doesn’t see a point to dillydallying. She’s going to get to work. But she’s very patient, and understands some things take time to accomplish(knitting, for example), so she paces herself on those in order for them to still turn out good.💔 - How would your muse react to losing a romantic partner? How would they cope?

She’d be a wreck for a while, no matter what.  If he broke up with her, she’d spend some time on self assessment, figure out if she did something that made her less attractive as a partner, and fix anything she might find. (If she doesn’t find anything and this is all on him, well, then, the wrecked stage will be much shorter) If she’s lost him because he died, she’s gonna grieve a really long time. That whole “perils of loving deeply” thing; the more you care, the more it hurts. She’d probably keep some article of clothing of his to wear when she misses him

🐜 - How does your muse feel about animal lives? Do they treat them the same way they’d treat a person, or do they feel they’re inferior?

She loves animals and values them pretty highly, but not quite the same level as a person. Like, if there’s a person and an animal totally helpless and in danger, she’s going to try and save the person first, but she’ll feel really guilty about not being able to save the animal too.

🌎 - Does your muse want to change the world? How would they go about it?

Nah, the last time she tried to be vocal about making things better, she essentially got run out of town and her parents threatened. She’ll stand up for what’s right, but doesn’t want harm coming to the people she cares about as a result, so she tends to focus on smaller scale things.

EMIRI

🔗 - What are your muse’s standards for meaningful relationships? How quickly do they form relationships like these?

Mostly just the ability to form a strong emotional connection with someone. Shared interests are a bonus, of course, but not necessarily a requirement. Someone she can trust, who treats her like an equal, preferably alright with hugs and such as gestures of platonic affection, bc her Love Language is physical touch. The speed these relationships form varies depending on the person, tbh. She and Aloth bond really, really fast, like before they even get to Caed Nua. Hiravias it takes a little bit, but the two of them do wind up really good friends(a lot of their bonding is through the ‘The Gods Fucked Me Over But Good’ Club (his phrasing not hers) so the actually relationship doesn’t start developing til later in the game. Edér and Kana are sort of in the middle, Sagani’s another fast one(though that’s almost more Emiri imprinting on her like a baby duck who needs a mother figure at first).🌠 - Would your muse make a wish on a star? If so, what would they wish for?

She might, but wouldn’t more than half believe there was a chance of it coming true. She’d probably wish for either the guts to tell Kana she likes him or to remember her family better so maybe she could try and find them.🍟 - How does your muse feel about their body? Would they change it if they could?

She’s pretty okay with her body. She’s occasionally regretted being godlike simply bc that’s the reason she got snagged by the pirates, but she’s pretty comfortable with her body and I don’t think she’d change anything. (Being moon godlike–the most accepted one–probably helps)🌺 - Does your muse have a favorite flower? Why do they like it?

Either Admeth’s Wyrt or Pilgrim’s Crown, both just because they’re pretty.

[iphoenixrising]

Dr!Tim Drabble: Robin

Well, Babes. You both must have fucking read my mind and shit because really. I kind of started this to be such a teaser when BOOP I got this ask and my fucking heart here. You’re right on the same page when it comes to Dr!Tim getting the real Robin experience, yeah? Lol. So, just a note. B’s bad guy persona is Matches. The dude with the epic porn ‘stache. Dick’s persona is Robbie Malone, which is pretty obscure and I looked it up on a good wiki to make sure.

HOWEVER *ahem* An incredible artist @kaciart did a thing here: http://thingsfortwwings.tumblr.com/post/55338349568/kaciart-it-was-never-made-clear-whether-tim-knew. Which helped the muse.

So… so there’s that. XD Hope it's as good.

**

The Robin in Gotham that night is just a little bit taller. Not by much. He's hesitant, a newbie to the vigilante game, and even if he's got a grapple on his belt, he only uses it once. Only a drunk or two catch him strafing across rooftops, the flicker of yellow, red, and green against the lamplight.

The rest of the city is asleep. As luck would have it, he stumbles on some baddies with a leg up on him, tossing a pellet in the right spot with knockout gas to make carrying him through the night that much easier. When Robin comes to, the blurry residual clears and behind the whiteouts, his vision is sharp. Being handcuffed in a crummy warehouse in the Narrows is not really the way he'd hoped to spend his first real experience in the tunic.

(And if he embarrasses the name, a certain little demon will probably eviscerate him.

"I allow you one night–"

"To my credit, I really thought those ninjas would go down easier."

"May I remind you–"

"I know, I know. It's not one of my hobbies. No more almost getting killed under your name, I promise.")

But a single dim bulb hangs with enough away to reveal the long, lean line of muscle still half in shadows watching him from behind whiteouts.

"Been a real pain in my nut, Robin." Is more dangerous behind the synths, more casual when the Red Hood, notorious enforcer for the Black Mask, straightens up and starts to move forward. "Gettin' in my fucking business means I gotta make an example outta ya, so’s no one else thinks they can stop the trade, you feel me?" Robin's eyes narrow but his pulse is picking up, his muscles tighten against the ropes.

“Or,” he tries with a bravado he doesn’t necessarily feel, “you could cut this chase short and let me take you in so you don’t make it worse for yourself.”

The sound is probably a snort but the synths make it hard to decipher.

“Mmhm, an’ any other damn day, ya might be right. But since I know the Bat is outta town, and the rest a’ yer little cape n’ cowl crew are busy, n’ yer own yer own, little birdy. Even fucking better, I got me an old friend in Gotham t’night, and I gotta say–” the way Hood moves, hips swaying, something of a swagger, all indications the vigilante has a plan, makes Robin catch a breath with what the hell else?

“Ya might be in over yer head.”

And oh God.

He’s in for it.

(Teasing his boyfriends can have some interesting results, so even with the plan they’d had for him tonight, there were so many things they hadn’t told him.)

Because the shift in the shadows and the crimson slash is just what the bad guy ordered, and the man coming out of the shadows to stand beside Hood is nothing short of mouth-wateringly dangerous– all done in sharp black and red.

Something in Robin’s abdomen goes unbearably tight when Renegade puts the intense focus of those whiteouts right on him, folds his arms over his chest, and his tongue darts out to lick his lips.

Even while he might be melting into a puddle of oh God, please, please, I’ve been a bad Robin, he can maneuver his hands well enough to get into the green gloves for the small lockpick set he’d completely kyped out of B’s utility belt the last time they’d had a little snatch n’ stitch. Since he’s completely used to working with fine instruments wearing gloves, working the small end into the handcuffs is easier than he’d originally calculated.

(So much win going on right now.)

“So nice to know you’ve got friends in town, Hood. I hope you have an itinerary to show him the sights. Robinson Park is really nice this time of year.” He tries to keep the banter, give himself time he needs to work the cuffs.

(Still, watching them walk toward him like a fucking bad ass wet dream is really making the night look up regardless of how things are going to go from here.)

“Too much mouth on ya, Robin,” and the flex of hips and thighs, the glint off the gun in Hood’s hand, the feral-looking smirk on Renegade’s face make him take a pause to work his fingers into the back of the utility belt, bite down on his lower lip to try and get–

Yes.

“Looks like we need to shut him up, Hood,” is Renegade’s deep response, that tone rolling around in the abandoned warehouse, makes a shiver work up his spine.

Which causes him to drop the pellet he’d been holding, the little ball rolling right under his chair.

Fuck. That’s bad.

He tries to think fast, using his weight to throw his chair back, out of the way of the little blast and following plumes of smoke. It’s really nothing more than dumb luck that the chair is probably older than all of them and pretty much breaks into kindling on impact.

It’s even luckier that the small blast is inconsequential but the smoke screen gives him the opportunity to wiggle enough to get his cuffed wrists down far enough to get his feet over them so at least his hands are bound in the front.

Rolling to his feet, he tries to duck away from the chair in the thick smoke, cape hitting him in the back of the ankles, and fucking right, he didn’t even lose the lockpick.

(“Damn. Good one, Baby Bird. Didn’t see that shit coming.”

“This is going to be much better than we thought, Jay.”

“Fuck right, Dickie, now we gedda chase.”

And with that little revelation, Robin is thinking, looking around at the high windows, making plans.)

He flips one of the few bat-a-rangs in his utility belt, awkwardly holding it up to throw with his bound hands. He manages throw far enough to knock it into an empty crate further down than where he’s hiding, but it draws the attention of the “baddies” coming through the dissipating smoke after him.

It does the job and he sees the outline of Hood and Renegade change course, closer to the sound.

“You’re only making it harder on yourself, Robin,” Renegade purrs low, his footsteps not even making a sound when he shares a side-eye with Hood and moves around to take the back for the element of surprise.

“When we catch ya,” Hood is cooing through the synths, popping the clip out of his .45 to make sure again he’s toting blanks (the one in his boot has the rubber rounds should things get dicey and they need ta make with the real crime fighting) before he circles around the smoky pile of old pallets and crates laying in dusty ruin, “we ain’t gonna be nice ‘bout it, you feel me, Robin? Gonna make ya one sorry lil’ bird.”

(But he totally hears, “gonna fuck ya until ya scream for it, Baby. Gonna make ya come ‘til ya can’t even stand up no more.”)

The handcuffs finally pop as the two bad guys jump in their planned strike, coming down on a whole lotta empty pallets with only a bat-a-rang there for them to stare at.

“Little motherfucker,” is all he needs to hear, shoving the handcuffs in his belt (in case he needs to have a plan) and pulling the grapple while his pulse throbs in his mouth and his adrenaline kicks up a notch. He’s got to shoot and reel himself in before they get to him, got to get out the upper windows and climb to the roof, got to at least get a few buildings over before they catch him.

(And he completely has a new appreciation for the reinforced jocks they wear under the suits because the things is literally killing him right now.)

The bang makes him flinch regardless, and with that, the jig is completely up. Two heads swivel toward the sound, trace the line up to the window sill where the hook sinks deep, and the shadow of the cape flares out like wings as the grapple pulls Robin from the ground and away.

“Fuck this is gettin’ good,” Hood breathes out, already pulling his own, watching the flex of Timmy’s thighs in those fucking tights and his ass outlined in Robin Red.

The window breaks with his momentum, and Robin pauses on the broken sill long enough to grin widely down at them, “I really need to be on my way, but we should do this again sometime!”

The cap flaps around the green tights and black boots as Robin scales the ancient fire escape and disappears out of sight.

Renegade puts a hand on his wrist, stills Hood from raising the grapple for the ole’ point-n-shoot. “Let him get a little bit of distance, Jay. He’s putting a hell of a lot into this.”

“Big Wing,” and even with the whiteouts on both sides, he knows how dark Dickies eyes are, is pretty sure his are just as dark. “ we’re gonna destroy that ass, you feel me?”

“You know we are. Damn, he looks cute in that suit.”

“Cute? Nah, ain’t where I’m at right now, yeah? Motherfucking sexy is ‘bout what I’m feelin’.”

“Fuckable, sure, but wow, he wears it so well.”

“Don’t tell Demon. That little shit won’t never let this happen again.”

“Right. We play it out with our boyfriend, fuck him on a safe rooftop, then take him home for a soak in the tub and cuddle-palooza.”

“You better fuckin’ add pancakes ta that list, Dickie. I like seein’ ‘im all full n’ sleepy after we fucked ‘im but good.”

“Done and done.”

In a smooth move, Hood raises the grapple again and loops his free arm around Renegade’s waist, pulling his Baby Boy right into his body.

The two vigilantes pause in the moment, and Renegade raises both hands quick, hits the right spot on the back of the helmet to release the catch, pulls the damn thing off so they can have just a second–

And anyone looking in the dilapidated warehouse down by Dixon Docks in that exact moment would be scandalized to see the Red Hood and Renegade writhing against one another, caught up in the taste of one another, just a tease before the grapple starts to reel.

**

Robin is panting with the effort, tries not to get tangled in his cape, tries to keep his eyes open to everything around him with the sharp vision he gets behind the whiteouts.

Luckily for him, he’s shaking off the residual of the sedative and this area of the city is one so absolutely familiar, he already knows he’s got an edge.

The same spots from those days when he was a kid with a camera, hiding while he followed the flying vigilantes are obviously still there, could still give him a place to duck if he thinks his pursuers are getting too close. If Dick and Jay had really been paying those old photographs in the shoebox enough attention, they’d probably be able to pick out the majority of his hidey-holes and make this game come to a quick and abrupt end (he’s hoping they don’t because he’s really, really enjoying this).

But, he’s already evaded them three times and he’s still too damn far from his apartment to believe he’s anywhere near home free.

Which is why he’s wasting time ducked down between two massive air conditioning units on the Mylar building instead of in Renegade and Hood’s path. A few feet away is an old bridge the maintenance crew used to get up to the next roof, giving him an out to use the grapple for a swing and give himself away.

He waits until the shadows recede and he can’t see either of them before he darts out and takes the bridge at a run, making a leap that immediately gets his adrenaline back up.

His chest is heaving a little because the climb is about a bitch.

A hard jerk on the suspension bridge takes him by surprise as both “villains” land it on either side of him, effectively boxing him in.

Well, fuck.

He pulls the grapple since, you know, the jig is up, but an escrima stick knocks the damn thing from his hand, and no amount of time he’s spent in the gym or hard-core parkour is going to get him out of this little sitch.

(Dammit. Trapped.)

Renegade clicks his tongue, “tsk, tsk, Robin. Nice try, but you should have tried to stay ahead of us. That might have gotten you home free.” And the two start advancing on him, getting closer. Robin looks from one to the other, bites down on his lower lip–

Until the plan pops into his head.

“Gonna enjoy this, little bird,” Hood drawls out, “after the run ya gave us.”

Panting, Robin tries to make the move subtle enough to miss, back up just a step, tries to make it look like he’s searching for a way out when he looks over the bridge and all the way down.

The action works because both villains jump for him at the same time, trying to keep him from throwing himself over, and it gives Robin just enough of a chance to let his knees give out from under him and fake fall to the wobbly bridge so Renegade can careen over his head at the same time Hood smacks into him, landing the two in a heap right at Robin’s feet.

The knock of Hood’s helmet against Renegade’s forehead gives him a crucial moment to slam the handcuffs he’d kept down on the Red Hood’s left wrist and Renegade’s right one, pushing the sides closed to cuff the two together.

(Oh fuck is he winning here.)

He’s already moving back while they untangle themselves and stare at their cuffed wrists before slowly, ever so slowly, turning to him.

“Well, damn.” And if he didn’t know better, he’d say Hood was, well, impressed.

(I have other hobbies, asshole, remember?)

“The surprises keep coming,” Renegade already climbing to his feet is grinning widely, Hood following in a smooth motion. “Too bad it isn’t going to save you, you know.”

“I just need to keep you two on–”

When he would have finished off the banter portion with on your toes, what he gets is the terrible sighing sound breaking the night, followed right by a sharp twang that is all too fucking familiar.

(Why do bridges have a tendency to break while he’s on them? Seriously now?)

His whole body jerks up, head turning to the sight of the old bridge coming apart and falling from under him, making him gasp in hard enough to hurt, making his knees knock, making a hard reality of Oh God, not again.

But cuffed arms brace under his and the bang of grapples firing shakes him out of breath-stealing panic, Hood and Renegade working in tandem to send the three of them flying through the night while the bridge crumbles to Gotham’s dirty sidewalk below.

Effortlessly, the villains land them on the Mylar, setting the three of them down in the shadows where one side of the building keeps it absolutely hidden away.

“Holy shit,” Robin pants out, held up between Hood and Renegade, his chest heaving under the tunic. “That...was not part of the plan.”

“Good to know,” Renegade lays his forehead against the base of Robin’s neck, exhaling slowly, moving his free hand down to push the cape out from between their bodies, to twist it around his hand for the next step.

“I’ll fuckin’ say,” Hood deactivates the helmet and tosses it down, moves a step closer to sandwich Robin between the two of them. With just a dom, his eyes are dark blue without the flecks of jade which means he’s probably still riding a little bit of the adrenaline from the almost-oops.

Robin looks up and over when Hood holds up his cuffed hand and arches a brow. “Still, ya gonna have ta work on them plans, Rob, if ya wanna get the better of us, yeah? This ain’t bad, but that don’t mean–”

And Robin gasps when his gloves wrists are gathered up by the cuffed hands, pulled over his head to stretch his body taunt.

Renegade is leaning down to talk against his ear, growling low and so fucking dangerous, “–you’re going to get away this time. Sorry, little bird. Looks like we win.”

**

Apparently things like capes are weapons and should not be used against him.

Or...well, maybe he’s going to re-think that since his wrists are bound together tight before they even worked the tunic open.

Renegade is keeping Robin’s bound arms down with a knee and a gloved hand over his mouth to make sure the noises are nice and quiet, kept between just the three of them. Hood had picked the cuffs in approximately two seconds to give them both a chance to get to work on making sure the young vigilante knew he was fucking around with the real deal.

The utility belt came off, lying just out of reach and Robin’s thighs spread open with less fight than anticipated.

The struggling, the writhing against Hood’s crotch, the straining muscle and taunt hold is just this side of perfect. For a little show, Hood pulls out a wickedly sharp knife, the glint dull in the night, leans down over Robin’s body and slides the sharp end of the blade right over the base of his throat, bare now that his cape is gone.

(But even though Timmy’s is half-assed struggling, he ain’t scared. No fear in those eyes, yeah?)

“Better be a good little bird, Rob. I like ta keep m’ implements nice n’ sharp. Don’t wanna make me slip by accident.”

Renegade’s hand on the younger vigilante’s mouth pulls so the head tilts back, eyes looking up. “I’ve known Hood for a long time, kid. You don’t want to see the master at work.”

When the struggling stops and the only thing Robin is doing is panting against Renegade’s hand, the sharp edge eases up slightly, slides down his chest, the tip fitting right under the tunic’s laces.

“Atta boy. Make it easier on yerself. Ain’t nobody gonna find ya, so don’t gotta have it rough unless ya wanna.”

“He might like it that way, Hood.” The first lace gives without hesitation. “Maybe we should go a little hard on him to find out.”

The second lace.

“But lookit how cute he is, Baby Boy. Gonna show ‘im just how things gotta go down on our side a’ the law, ain’t we? That don’t mean we gotta get nasty ‘bout it long as he behaves himself.”

The third.

Finally, the two villains are finally getting a little skin, and a gloved hands runs down Robin’s collar bone, moves to thumb and tweak until the little nub under is tight.

The hand on Robin’s mouth tightens down when the moan cuts through the stillness.

“He needs to learn, Hood. He can’t mess with business and get away without paying the price.” The thumb on Robin’s face moves over the domino and the whiteouts slide down, showing half-mast eyes, darkening by degrees.

“Mmhm. That’s the thing ‘bout Gotham, ain’t it?” And the hands moving down, pull hard, rip the tunic until there’s nothing in his path except the tights and reinforced jock. “Always got consequences, Rob, and you? You ain’t any different.”

The telltale tremble in his thighs makes the Red Hood grin wide and white (don’t be breaking character yet, Baby Bird. We gotta whole lotta play still left), and he’s nothing but a nasty bastard when he runs both hands up the inside of those thighs, grips tight to make sure there’s gonna be bruises there tomorrow.

Since he and Dickie pretty much engineered this whole thing (and made a suit with strategized weaknesses), the tights give under his hands, ripping open from the waist to the knee. He hands a sizeable strip to Renegade and leans down over Robin’s body, giving a little bit of distraction while his partner in crime moves just long enough to tie the strip in their little vigilante’s mouth.

“Much better.” He palms the grapple in his freed hand, and pulls out the line, throws the hook to catch on the lip of the roof and wrap the other end to keep Robin from going anywhere. Renegade pulls off the head piece, is in just a domino so he can flick the catch of his suit and pull it down to bare a tantalizing v-ee of his chest.

With the suit ripped away, helpless to whatever they planned to do to him on a roof in the middle of Gotham, Robin is gagged and panting, his chest stuttering with it, going pink down his collarbone and upper chest.

(Fingers slide into one of his bound hand, and the metal ball gives a soft jingle. All he has to do is drop it if he needs to stop, all he has to do is give the signal. He’s in control, he’s in control, he’s in control–)

And the feel of Hood’s gloves on his hip bone, tearing the strap on the reinforced jock makes his hips twitch, makes him unconsciously arch into the touch even when his hard cock springs up into the cool Gotham air.

“That’s smart kid. This’ll go easier for you if you try to enjoy it.” Renegade palms the vial in his suit and holds it up where the can both see it, smirks at the muffled noise right beside his thigh.

Hood grins back at him and pops the lid, dribbles lube on his fingers and lifts one of Robin’s calves for Renegade to hold. He hoists the other, runs his slick fingers over Robin’s balls, tugs a little, slides his forefinger up the underside of the vigilante’s straining cock, just a tease.

Getting his suit down far enough with one hand, Renegade shakes Robin’s leg, palms the side of his face to turn him, gets a load of those eyes, “My partner here is going to give you the fuck of a lifetime. And you? Are going to suck me while he does it.”

The jock is gone, and Robin gasps in hard through his nose, those eyes rolling over the length, teeth biting down on the gag in his mouth. He watches, mesmerized, as the gloved hand strokes himself, makes himself harder, gives Robin a preview to what he’s about to get.

When Hood spreads him open wider, slick and blunt finger sliding in, moving fast and hard, making Robin’s spine arch while he watches Renegade jerk off right in front of his face, mouth watering for it, his cock aching, his body clenching when one finger becomes two, and the desperation for more is starting to take over.

Pulling against the zip line isn’t doing anything for him because he can’t move, is caught between them, is already making noises with his body anticipating Hood (Jay) making him utterly senseless while he sucks Renegade’s thick cock to the fucking base.

(This is the best thing to ever happen.)

A jerk of his hips and a third finger slides in, gives him only a few thrusts against his spot, just enough for Hood to smirk and finally pull out.

“Gonna keep ya nice n’ tight fer me, Robin,” and while he’s been prepping the vigilante, he’d pulled himself out, lubed himself up to press right against the prize waiting for him. “But don’t worry. Since yer being a good, little bird, we’ll make sure you get yers.”

And Robin throws his head back, body arching in a clean line as well as he can with his legs caught and hands restrained. His fist tightens on the bell, keening through his gag as Hood pushes in, gives a few slow back-and-forths until he’s balls deep with a long moan.

“Lookit you taking all of his dick on the first go,” Renegade purrs down at him, and thumbs the gag out of his mouth, puts a finger over his lips. “Good for you, little bird. Now you’re going to give me mine. Don’t make me have to tell you to be very good.”

Renegade pulls with fingers on his jaw, and Robin opens up without a fight, taking the wide head in, moaning around it. Hood finally gets the point that he’s sure he isn’t going to come immediately when he moves, changing his hold to fit the bend of Robin’s knee and hoist his hips up higher, makes sure he’s in as far as he can possibly go (just the way Timmy likes it), then pulls back, starts up a few slow-n’-easies before he picks up the pace.

And Robin’s eyes are fluttering behind the domino, sliding his tongue around Renegade’s cock, leaning closer when he can take more, when he can take it deeper--

And suck.

“Holy–” and the villain’s hips twitch, a gloved hand threading into his hair, holds him still as hips twitch and fuck his mouth in shallow thrusts. “Fuck, know what you’re doing, don’t you Robin? Ah, you’re going to love my cock by the time we’re done with you.”

“Ya kiddin’ me, Baby Boy? Fuck him and you’ll be in love with his ass. Like a fucking vice.” And Hood leans over Robin’s body to get a better view of Renegade’s hips twitching, cock sliding in and out of his mouth, of Robin’s cheeks hollowing, of his jaw moving, of the tight nubs they’re both absently working.

In a calculated move, Renegade gives Hood a wink, and they both draw back, leave just the tip in him, gets a low noise for the effort, and fuck back into him with a vengeance.

“That’s right, little birdie. Found yer sweet spot, yeah?” And the strokes inside him are long and firm and fast, his spot abused by each one, making the pressure in his belly start to burn.

Renegade keeps up with a smooth, steady pace, sliding over his tongue, spilling pre-come in his throat, staring down as he pants, watching Robin take every fucking inch.

He’s moaning around the width in his mouth, in his throat, trying to suck, trying to scream while his cock throbs and the R still partly on his chest gleams in the night.

Hood’s balls slapping against his ass, and Renegade panting, groaning out above him, and a gloved hands fists him at the base, starts stroking him in time with the hits to his spot.

And the rhythm is driving, pound, rushing, his pulse racing in his ears, struggling to get a breath, but it’s all toomuchmoremoremore that he can’t think past the need to come, whimpering in his throat when he can, and trying to move his hips up into the fist pumping him and down into the pound thrusts driving him closer and closer to the edge.

“That’s right, give it up, Robin,” Renegade pants, groans down at him, working his hips, fucking into that throat, “you’re gonna take everything we give you, and when you go back to the Bat, you’ll remember just what you get when you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

Hood draws back to fuck in hard, tightening his hand down and speed up. “We’re gonna make sure this lessons sticks, Baby Boy. Fill ‘im up good, make sure he knows what happens ta bad little birdies.”

Robin screams around Renegade’s cock when fingers tease the tip of him and hips ground into deep, trying to move but he’s helplessly caught.

When Renegade leans down over him, talks low and feral, fucking into his mouth with fast, hard jerks, getting harder against his tongue, when it’s those blue eyes with the haze of need and want, (when it’s Dick talking to him), when the words, “come for us, baby,” are breathed so soft and fond, his body lets go, the knot of tension exploding, sending tingling pleasure from his ass to his cock to his nipples and spreads out until his eyes are rolling back in his head and all he can do is suck Renegade’s come down his throat while the pleasure loops around and keeps him going.

“Fuck, baby,” (Is Jay instead of–) Hood yells to the night sky, Robin’s body milking him, tightening down so hard, so fast, so wet, that he comes with a jolt, burying himself deep to fill the vigilante up.

And while Gotham remains completely serene at this time of night, three (two, technically) caped crusaders are laying out on the roof of the Mylar building in a tangle of limbs, panting, and weak, and so amazingly sated.

Boneless and content not to move another inch in his life, Tim manages to slide a gloved hand out of the knot made from the cape, and wipe his mouth, absently keeping track of his heart rate.

Dick is curled around his upper body, idly running fingers through his hair, the Renegade costume zipped half-way up his chest so he doesn’t get a whole lot of roof rash. On his other side, Jay has a heavy arm over his bare hips, a leg thrown over his and the Kevlar feels just as good on bare skin as it always does.

“That? Was fucking amazing,” he murmers, drowsy, shivering slightly now that he realizes he’s pretty much naked on a roof in the middle of the city after being fucked out of his mind, and somehow--

This is his life.

So it’s good when his vigilante boyfriends recover enough to maybe get them the hell off this roof before people like, office staff start coming into the Mylar’s upper floors for work.

Dawn is riding the horizon when he’s pulled to his feet and wrapped in Robin’s cape, rocking a toga to cover the torn suit and tunic, and carried off by his vigilante boyfriends so he can be absolutely lazy and just let Dick then Jay take him flying.

He has to make his body work when maneuvering through the window with shaky legs. Jay gives the helmet a toss in pretty much the direction of the kitchen table before picking Tim up by the back of his thighs, and let their doctor squawk but still flops his upper body flops over Jay’s shoulder.

Dick has the Renegade suit hanging off his hips, moving around the kitchen bare-chested with a domino, making coffee that is desperately, desperately needed.

“I’ll be there in a sec! I was promised cuddles, Jay, and I expect you two to deliver.”

“Bath first, Big Wing. Gotta let Timmy take a soak. Getcha ass in here so’s we can wash ‘im but good.” The abrupt smack and corresponding yelp from the path down the hall toward the direction of the bathroom makes Dick smirk and quickly scoop the grounds in while trying to get a glove off with his teeth.

“‘Sides, we might need ta give Sweets one more go ‘round, you feel me here, Dickie?”

“Wh-what?! How do you even expect me to get hard right now?!”

The bath is running in Tim’s massive tub (the real benefit to the apartment after all), and the sounds of Kevlar and Nomac sliding off of skin a soft sight when Dick comes to join them.

“You know, Timmy,” is a followed up by a very Dick Grayson smile, all full of bedroom eyes and promise, “we do have our ways.”

So if the tub sloshes over, and the neighbors complain about the noise this time of day (again), if maybe there might be...another suit buried in the back of their closet a few days later, if maybe he takes more detours when his boys are on the job and he can have time to scout hiding places and perfectly sized niches, when he can calculate more routes and moves.

He’s going to say, it’s always good to have a plan because of things like bleeding vigilantes—you know, on my fire escape. But in reality, it’s because now that he’s worn the tunic, flown through Gotham, and he’s pretty damn sure he’s got enough skill to make them work a hell of a lot harder–

Next time.

[drippingviolets3]

Hi! Can I have an demon slayer matchup? My pronouns are she/her and I’m fine with male or female preference. I am also 19 so I’d like characters 18 and up.

𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬: I’m an INTP, choleric temperament, type 5 enneagram, and sun sign leo. My moral alignment is true neutral. I have massive introverted tendencies and am awkward in nature with new people. As a result I can come across as aloof and indifferent at first. I absolutely despise small talk. However with my friends I’m quite friendly, outgoing, and confident. Whenever I’m with my friends I can get really giggly and dorky when talking abt my recent hyperfixations. I open up to people very easily if we have similar interests. That’s when the chaotic theories and wacky ideas spout out. I tend to either overthink everything or not think at all. I’m a bit of a control freak and want to do the things the way I do them but I won’t enforce this on anyone else unless the result directly affects me. Just let me do things the way I do them. I'm also quite dedicated and ambitious on what I want in my life and will stand by those decisions.

𝗜𝗡𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗦: Art. Any art honestly. Though I mostly work with digital mediums. That is, I love to creative code. I’m currently studying digital media arts with the hopes to be a video game designer. My wip is trying to spice up arcade games from the 80’s. Apart from this, I love other mediums of art too especially drawing, digital illustrating, and printmaking.

𝗛𝗢𝗕𝗕𝗜𝗘𝗦: let’s just say I spend way too much time daydreaming. Fan fiction, video games, movies, books, tv shows. Anything that lets me daydream and disappear from reality for a while is a hobby of mine. I also love working out and weight lifting.

STYLE: tank tops, graphic tees, tights, plaid skirts, combat boots, converse, chokers, layered necklaces, jean jackets, leather jackets, army jackets, bandanna headbands, claw clips.

MUSIC TASTE: 70s/80s rock music, 2010s tumblr indie pop, bubblegum pop, french and italian romance songs (i can speak French and trying to learn Italian), epic soundtrack pieces.

Thank you and ofc congrats!

I’m in near tears finally I can do something that isn’t twst related-

Now I’m not far into demon slayer as you know, but even with my limited knowledge I think I have a good match for you.

Tengen Uzui!

•Now let me explain. Tengen is quite the character. That’s all I can say about him make me say any more and this will turn into a roasting session real fast-

•*AhEm* Uhh, anyways, he’s flashy and with his three wives they’re quite the dynamic. Quite honestly, your personality wouldn’t matter because as long as you aren’t toxic you’ll fit in just fine.

•But if you’re shy at first and get excited when with people close to you, Tengen will find that adorable! I mean, his wives will too but idk if you want to hear about them

•Actually, screw it. Polyamory doesn’t revolve around two people with the rest being accessories, we’re gonna talk about the wives too.

•When Tengen is away on missions, his wives will make sure you’re never lonely! Helping with household chores, cooking together, training in almost life threatening manners, the such.

•It’s a ball whenever Tengen isn’t around, and when he is around. You and his wives will all be huddled together in bed, talking and giggling amongst yourselves over random topics like you’re teenagers again.

•You can bet your shiny boots Tengen will frame your artwork.

•Literally you could do a bunch of scribbles and suddenly you’re at a museum showing off your work with Tengen and the girls around you standing as guards while you’re like “????”

•Work out dates are a daily thing! Not as fun or cute as it may seem in my opinion, but that’s coming from someone who can barely lift the milk jug so don’t take it from me.

•Picnic dates are common too! Of course it’s in a public park so you don’t risk meeting any demons. They can be tricky even in the sunlight.

•Keep your fan fiction well hidden because they WILL read it like it’s classic literature

[tanadrin]

The Interview

After waiting for half an hour, Pray was well and truly bored. She fiddled with her terminal, then wandered around looking at the bookcases on the far wall. They were full of thick tomes like Interplanetary Development Economics, Sixteenth Edition and A Political History of the Martian Colonies, Volume Six. She rolled her eyes. Whoever used this office was trying to project a very specific image, and was killing a lot of trees to do it. There was a thin layer of dust over the books, too; they probably read them in digital copies, just like everybody else. If they’d even read them. She wandered over to the window that occupied the entire wall behind the desk. It afforded a sweeping view of downtown Abuja. The city was staggeringly vast. Pray knew that, somewhere in the back of her mind, but she never could comprehend just how vast unless she saw it in person. The first large city she’d ever been to in her life was Seattle. Her little apartment there had had a narrow view of the skyline, framed by two taller buildings, and even that narrow glimpse had seemed like a window into a huge, exciting place. Up here, the arcologies and the skyscrapers were two or three skylines all to themselves, strung out below her--and another beyond that, a whole extra city even bigger than Seattle or Vancouver. And another beyond that. And another. And another. She turned away from the window, feeling a little dizzy. She strode over to the desk, and sat down in the enormous high-backed swivel chair. She pushed off tentatively from the desk; the chair spun slowly, almost frictionlessly, in silence. Well, well. Control did not skimp out when it came to office furniture. She gave herself another push.

“Heh,” she whispered quietly to herself. “This is fun.”

Push. Spin. Push.

“Ma’am?”

Pray slapped her hand down on the desk and froze herself mid-spin. There was a tall, thin man, dressed in a carefully tailored suit standing at the door.

“Er… the director will be in in a moment,” he said. “Would you like anything? Water? Tea?”

Pray just shook her head. She only felt a little embarrassed. They were the ones wasting her time, after all.

The director strode in a few minutes later. He was bald, with a bushy gray goatee and a heavily lined face. Pray thought he looked like her grandfather, maybe, except much more serious. He didn’t even blink when he saw Pray sitting behind his desk. He sat in one of the large, heavy armchairs facing her, and spun the console around to face the other way.

“Good afternoon, Ms--what surname do you use these days?”

“Just Pray,” Pray said.

“Very well. Ms Pray. Welcome. I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”

Pray shrugged. Not exactly an “It’s OK.” More of a “Pretty much what I expected.”

“I’m Director Osondu.” He tapped a few keys on the console and brought up a set of files; from behind the screen they were flipped and out of focus, but Pray could see a photo of her featured largely at the top.

“Your CV,”the director said, indicating the console.

“I never sent you my CV,” Pray said, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t have a CV.”

“We took the trouble of compiling one for you ourselves. We do that with many of our potential employees.”

“I’ve also never applied to work at Control.”

Director Osondu smiled. “No. But I’m hoping I can convince you.”

Pray laughed. “You want to offer me a job?”

The director nodded. “And not a job reviewing reports in Maitama, either. We have an assignment in mind.”

Pray leaned back in Osondu’s chair.

“What makes you think I’d want to work for Control? Heck, what makes you think I’m qualified?”

“Let’s see here. You were born in Washington, yes? In a Radhite community near Echo Valley?”

“Cooper Mountain, actually. People get the two mixed up.” If they’ve heard of them, she thought. Which they never have.

“Ah, yes. Let me fix that.” His hand darted over the console briefly. “You exercised your exit rights when you were sixteen, for reasons involving--let’s see here--personal bodily autonomy?”

“Yes. That’s correct.”

“Our records don’t elaborate on what those reasons were.”

“Good.” Pray stared at him, remaining pointedly silent.

“Ahem. In any case, you spent six years subsequently in Seattle finishing your education, before moving to Europe, then Asia, then South America, then the Antarctic colonies, staying in no city for more than eighteen months at a time. And then three years ago you came to Abuja, and you’ve been here ever since.”

“Yup.”

“What drew you here, if I may ask?”

“I like big cities. I like moving around. I want to see the world.”

“You haven’t moved anywhere in years. You haven’t even changed apartments since six weeks after you got here. You do some analytical work to supplement your basic, mostly for financial conglomerates and political outfits, but with your intelligence and abilities, you could easily find full-time work, enough to live pretty damn well. Even move to Mars, or the outer Solar System if you wanted.”

“What can I say? I’ve never been that interested in space travel. I like high gravity and being able to go outside from time to time. And I like my apartment. It’s cozy. Do you keep a close eye on everybody who decides to use their exit rights as a teenager? ‘Cause I gotta say, this is kinda creeping me out.”

“My apologies. We don’t as a rule, no. We consider the third freedom absolute. However, we have been interested in you for a long time. We just haven’t known… exactly what approach you might be most receptive to.”

“Well. This isn’t a good one, you know.”

“I haven’t finished making my pitch yet.”

“All right. So make it.”

“We want you to travel. In space.”

Pray laughed.

“Absolutely not,” she said. “There’s not enough money in the world.”

The director stood, and walked over to the bookshelf. He touched one finger to his lips, thinking for a minute.

“Forgive me,” he said, after a long silence. “I want to choose my words carefully, because I wish to express myself precisely.” He took a slim volume off the shelf, came back over to the desk, and slid it across the surface. Pray stiffened when she saw the title. It was Radha Munroe’s First Treatise.

“You know that book well, yes?”

Pray nodded.

“Would you agree that it’s, shall we say, convincing?”

Pray nodded again. “Sure. What’s your point?”

“It’s not just convincing. It’s elegant. Learned. Often, even, poetic. So profound, to at least some of its readers, that thirty years after the death of its author it found new life as the textual center of a movement. Something not quite political, not quite spiritual, and not quite personal, but located at the intersection of all three. A new, totalizing philosophy that built a community and transformed lives.”

“High praise.”

“I mean it sincerely. Do you know how many Radhites have exercised their exit rights since the first Radhite community was founded more than two hundred years ago?”

“Not many, I’m guessing.”

“Exactly one. You.”

The director took the book back. Pray could feel herself relaxing as he slipped it out of view.

“It’s not that I agree with everything Radha Monroe wrote. Nor do I think there have not been other Radhites who may have wanted to leave. But such is the persuasion and the power of the Radhite philosophy that, quite without coercion, at least of the kind that would provoke sanctions from Control, they have formed some of the most hermetically sealed communities in the Solar System. And believe me, we monitor the Radhites very closely. Yes, it’s true. We’re very careful. As I said--the third freedom is absolute. The closest thing we have to something sacred in this day and age.”

“They’re very good at brainwashing. So what?”

“The Radhites are uniquely good at it, if that’s the term we’re going to use. Every other community in the Archipelago has some kind of attrition, and the larger the community, the higher the absolute quantity. Religious communes, philosophical societies, intentional communities--it is an absolute. Some have higher attrition rates than others, but they all have them. All except the Radhites. Until you, anyway. And since you, not one. Not even from Cooper Mountain.

“My point, Pray, is that you are exceptional. Your biography alone--the fact you are out here, in the world, for me to speak to--makes you exceptional.”

The director flicked through Pray’s file faster now.

“Your life since, however, makes you even more remarkable. You graduated from university at age twenty, with top marks. You took proficiency exams which could have garnered you the position of your choice in the civil service or at one of a number of academic institutes--or even in Control--but you contented yourself with analytical work on the side. And your analytical work, particularly on emerging social trends, is considered on par with some of the best research collectives. Only an AI might do better--but AI won’t do this kind of thing.”

“AI can’t,” Pray muttered. “They only say they won’t.”

“If you did more than one report every three months, you could be living in a luxurious Japanese arcology. Or on the Moon. Anywhere you wanted, really. But instead you content yourself with a small apartment in Gudu. Lately you don’t even travel. I think I know why.”

“Do tell.”

“You’re bored. Government work doesn’t interest you. Bureaucratic work certainly doesn’t. And you know Control has a reputation for excellence, but you think all we are is glorified paper-pushers and, occasionally, law enforcement. Maybe you genuinely don’t like space travel, but I suspect you think there are simply no interesting challenges to be had elsewhere in the Solar System, so you prefer to spend your time reading and studying and watching the world from afar. You think maybe one day you will find a topic, a cause, a company somewhere that is interesting enough for you to feel really invested in, but you’re not holding your breath. You came to Abuja because it’s one of the biggest cities in the world. It’s home to Control, to a third of all U.N. agencies, and it’s as close as any city to the beating heart of humanity. But even here there’s nothing to draw you in.”

Pray shifted nervously in her seat. A small voice in her head told her to push off from the desk, and just roll her way down the elevator. As though if she did it smoothly enough, the director wouldn’t notice.

“That all sounds very speculative to me,” she said.

“Nonetheless, I think it is accurate speculation. Speculation of this kind is the reason I am valuable to Control. We think you could be valuable to us for other reasons. And we think you could get something in return.”

“Which would be?”

“Something you can be excited about. Would you like to meet an AI?”

Pray cocked her head. Now that. That was something new.

“You do not ‘meet’ AIs,” she said. “They don’t exactly socialize.”

“Nonetheless, I know where you could meet one. One who is very interested in meeting you.”

“You’re messing with me,” Pray said flatly.

“I do not mess.”

“Where? When?”

“Here. And now.”

“And I have to accept your job offer, whatever it is?”

“Not at all. They will help me explain it. Then you can decide whether to accept it or not.”

Pray leaned forward in her chair.

“I’m listening.”

The director entered a command into his console; a large screen emerged from the wall to the left, and flickered to life. What appeared on it was rather like a face, or the ghost of a face: a suggestion of eyes and a mouth and other, less distinct features on a flickering, phosphorescent background that sometimes cohered into something strikingly human, and sometimes suggested something altogether alien. Pray stared at the screen with intense interest; she realized she was holding her breath.

AI did not, as a matter of course, involve themselves closely in human affairs. The dream, centuries ago, had been creatures made in mankind’s image: creatures of humanlike dispositions and intellect, implemented in the medium of a machine. Of androids, perhaps, or things vaster and far more than human in their powers, but human enough in their values and desires that there could still be meaningful conversation between them and us, even if it was as a mere mortal might speak to an angel.

That turned out not to be the reality.

Artificial intelligence, machine intelligence, had indeed come, but it came from a quarter and in a manner no one had quite expected. The result was emphatically unhuman. Not inhuman; not monstrous. But just as the mammalian intellect had inevitably been the outcome of a certain evolutionary process, a certain set of cognitive solutions to specific biological and ecological problems, the machine intellect was a different set of answers to an entirely different set of questions.

Three hundred years ago, after the first tentative and failed attempts to establish a permanent presence in star systems outside the one humanity had arisen in, during the dark age between the second and third space races, the first true, general machine intelligences had been created. The results proved alien and unsettled many; even attempts to record entire human brain states, to provide the AI with as complete an understanding as possible of their creators, had only bridged the gap a little. That unease grew into genuine fear when an AI colony was discovered orbiting a brown dwarf a little under seven light years away.

Their goals, the machines said, were different from ours. They need not be in opposition; they were not our enemy. And they were willing to help us, to be of use to us so far as they were able, but if the utopians of previous centuries had dreamed of a society where man and machine were twined together, a symbiosis of two distinct but complementary organisms, well, that hope seemed to have been dashed. For the most part, they would pursue their own existence and their own ends. Control was entrusted to be the mediators between Core and the AIs, but as far as anybody knew, even Control’s contact with them was only sporadic and brief. Pray had never dared hope she might meet an AI herself.

“Pray, meet Lepanto. Lepanto, meet Pray.”

The shimmering face seemed to nod, and spoke with a synthesized voice that had a hint of the uncanny about it. Such, Pray had heard, was the norm; machines, no less than humans, did not their interlocutors to forget how alien they were to one another.

“Greetings, Pray,” Lepanto said. “I am pleased to meet you.”

“I, uh, yeah. You too,” Pray said. “Welcome to Earth.”

“Thank you. In fact I have been here for some time; we maintain a small presence in Core systems at Control’s expense.”

“Lepanto is a mediator,” the director said. “Their lineage is intended to facilitate communication with our people, but you should be aware, they are merely… less alien.”

“Indeed.” Lepanto’s image wavered, and for a brief moment, was full of a surfeit of eyes and other strange features. “I am here because Control has identified an interest common to my kind and yours. We believe that you, Pray, would be of particular help in solving our quandary.”

“Why me?” Pray asked.

The director turned the console to face Pray, and struck a key. The file being displayed was replaced with an image of a world, something computer generated maybe, or taken from orbit.

“Have you ever heard of a colony world called Ecumen?” the director asked.

“It doesn’t ring a bell,” Pray said.

“It’s old. It was colonized in the 2600s.”

“I didn’t think there were any colonies that old that had succeeded.”

“Nor did we,” the director said. “Until about twenty years ago, when Ecumen was rediscovered by the machines.”

“What did you find out?”

“Distant surveys told us little,” Lepanto said. “We sent a high-velocity probe to the system, to initiate contact. Four mediators, like myself, working in concern. Their report--disturbed us.”

The image on the console changed; various surface features were highlighted or shown blown up, in inset frames. Ecological data. Large urban centers. A handful of small space stations and orbital manufacturing.

“It looks pretty normal to me,” Pray said.

“On the surface, yes,” Lepanto continued. “Artifacts, not apparent to human eyes. Problem akin to Benford’s Law.”

“Explain?”

“The frequency distribution of numbers in data sets. Favors low numbers in leading digits, yes? Consequence emerges from data spanning many orders of magnitude; easy to detect when data is falsified if it fails to conform. Not immediately obvious to human eyes.”

The console changed again; a dozen graphs appeared. Demographic and actuarial data, economic information, patterns of migration, and more that Pray couldn’t make immediate sense of.

“Emissaries spoke to Ecumen, learned of their history. Their societies. Their culture. Sought to understand them as we seek to understand all human worlds. We learned much. But the patterns were anomalous. Irregular. Wrong.”

“So they gave you bad data?”

“No. All data corroborated. Independently verified, from sources and from our own orbital surveys. Problem apparent in the data, not an artifact of the data. Something is terribly wrong on Ecumen.”

“So it’s an outlier. There are almost two dozen colony worlds now. Every one has its own unique environment and circumstances. They can’t all be the same.”

“We have spent more than a decade examining this data. The emissaries brought it to the attention of the collective, which took an immediate interest; more than half our stable nodes were diverted to attempting to understand Ecumen. It is an impossible world. It should not and cannot exist as it does. Population growth rates follow anomalous patterns that do not conform to any understanding of human biology or society, even accounting for specific conditions. Similarly, economic investment. Patterns of land cultivation. Everywhere, something is off.”

“The reports the collectives have compiled are… dense, to be sure,” the director said. “Not all of it is very accessible to our analysts. But Control makes a habit of compiling as much data as it can about human societies and their development. We couldn’t do our job otherwise. And we agree. Something very unusual is happening on Ecumen, and only on Ecumen.”

Pray was scrolling through the data on the console now. It was certainly suggestive of something, but she’d be damned if she knew what.

“And there are underlying patterns here? It’s not just random deviation?”

“No,” Lepanto said. “In fact, the patterns conform to specific mathematical structures that, until we shared with Control, we believe were not known to any humans, in Core or the colonies.”

A series of complex, shifting geometric figures appeared on the screen. “The collectives consider questions of natural science,” Lepanto continued. “It is important to us, as it is to you, to understand the universe. We wish to know many things about it--how it operates, how it came to be. It is one of the few areas in which we understand ourselves to be very like you. We are both curious.”

“And these are?”

“Three-dimensional representations of complex mathematical objects that govern the states of fundamental particles in certain simulated universes. They correspond closely to the patterns we perceive in Ecumen’s human population.”

“So you’re saying there is a natural basis for these patterns?”

“No. All these patterns arise only in universes which have physical laws radically different from our own. Almost all, universes where life, human or machine, could not exist.”

Pray sat back in the director’s chair and stared at the screen, turning over a hundred possibilities in her mind. Yes, indeed. Something strange was going on on Ecumen. Maybe a coincidence. Maybe not.

“And there’s no way this is random?” she asked. “That you’re seeing patterns in chaotic information that have arisen by chance, excluding everything that doesn’t fit?”

“It is not pareidolia, if that is what you mean,” Lepanto said. “Conditions on Ecumen have continued to align with our forecasts. The data is predictive.”

“Are you interested?” the director asked.

“Oh, it’s all interesting as hell,” Pray said. “But what on Earth do you want me to do?”

“We’re sending a delegation to Ecumen. Officially, it’s diplomatic: Control has no presence there, and since Ecumen is interesting in acceding to the treaties, we’d like to open diplomatic relations. And, for obvious reasons, we’re a little nervous about them coming here, in case this phenomenon is somehow capable of spreading. But along with the diplomatic team, we’re sending some researchers, and a few agents to assist them. They, with Lepanto’s help, will conduct an intensive study of Ecumen, and attempt to figure out what’s behind all this. We’d like you to be part of the team. But, of course, I know how you feel about space travel…”

“Fuck that,” Pray said quickly. “I’ll do it.”

The director smiled. He slipped a folded-up piece of paper from his suit pocket and laid it on the desk. “Here’s an employment contract, if you’d like to look it over. If you sign before lunch, there’s an orientation for new analysts being conducted on the 16th floor at two o’clock.”

“That’s it? You don’t want to, like, interview me or something?”

The director shook his head and stood. “Ms Pray, it is our job to identify the best and the brightest, to help them achieve their greatest potential in exchange for helping us safeguard and support the flourishing of the human race. We don’t conduct ‘job interviews.’” He paused for a moment. “You do get an expense account, though. They’ll tell you the specifics at orientation.”

Pray unfolded the sheet of paper and started reading. The director cleared his throat. Loudly.

“However,” he said, “If you don’t mind, I’d like my office back now.”

[gpnationalcrane]

5 Free Construction Safety Resource Guides that are Worth Your Time

One of the key components to building a proper safety culture is first building awareness.  That awareness is built through training, tool box talks, and jobsite experience. The good news is that construction companies don’t need to come up with safety topics and information by themselves, there are actually a lot of fantastic resources available online and many of them are free.

Below are some of my favorite free safety resources for construction.  I use these personally on a regular basis for my own safety training that I perform and for additional research when writing articles. Check them out and let me know if you have any other resources that I should be aware of!

OSHA’s Construction Home Page

If you’re going to start anywhere, there’s no better place than the source.  OSHA is responsible for creating and enforcing safety regulations in the U.S., but they also provide a lot of other information to help train your employees.

In addition to the actual regulations, OSHA has a large library of QuickCards (1-page printable documents for handouts), E-tools for interactive learning, videos, and standard interpretations to give you insight into how OSHA intends for certain standards to be enforced.

CPWR – The Center for Construction Research and Training

Another one of my favorite resources is CPWR, which is dedicated to providing safety resources in order to reduce jobsite injuries, illnesses, and fatalities. CPWR also commonly partners with other organizations to perform research and create other tools.

On their website, you can find dozens of free toolbox talks infographics, and read the findings of their current and past research projects.

Construction Junkie’s Safety Section

This is obviously a little self-serving, but I spend a lot of time talking about safety on Construction Junkie and there’s a ton of valuable information to be found.  Not only can you find out about recent regulation changes, and information about other great resources like this post, I also cover real-life safety incidents on jobsites throughout the country. For me, using examples of things that have actually happened recently gives any safety training or toolbox talk a heightened sense of urgency and makes people want to listen to you.

In addition, you can find new tools and technology to help enforce your company’s standards or provide your workers an alternative to traditional methods.  A couple recent examples are the rise of exoskeletons that provide lift assist to reduce fatigue and long term ailments, and AI software to help monitor your jobsite for social distancing compliance during the pandemic.

Procore Safety Qualified Program

You may only know Procore as the popular project management software company, but they actually spend a lot of energy providing some pretty great (and free) services for contractors to use, even if you’re not on their platform.  One of those resources is a catalogue of “Procore Safety Qualified” courses, which can be found on their education page. Those who complete the course can also earn a coveted “Safety Qualified” hard hat sticker.

The most current courses are a bit more non-tangible than you may be used to, as they cover wellbeing, mindset, and cultural changes, but they also have a backlog of more traditional topics as well. The 8 other topics include Lockout/Tagout, Respiratory Protection, Scaffolding, Hazard Communication, Fall Protection, Confined Spaces, Silica Exposure, and Heat Hazards.

Each course can be used to earn continuing education credits and it also approved by several industry organizations.

Safesite’s Safety Blog

Safesite makes their living with their safety management system and safety app of the same name, but they also have a really great blog packed with extremely helpful information. The company covers all of the most important topics, including fall protection, excavation, safety culture, documentation, ladder safety, COVID-19, and so much more.

In addition to just the helpful blog posts, you can also find checklists for things like PPE inspections, fall protection, electrical inspections, hot work, and others. As knowledgeable as they are about safety, they also reach out to industry experts (*ahem” – like this one) to get additional perspectives. It’s definitely a site worth bookmarking.

source https://www.constructionjunkie.com/blog/2020/9/21/5-free-construction-safety-resource-guides-that-are-worth-your-time from G P NATIONAL CRANES LTD https://gpnationalcrane.blogspot.com/2020/09/5-free-construction-safety-resource.html

[theliberaltony]

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to a special extra edition of FiveThirtyEight’s weekly politics chat. The transcript below has been lightly edited.

hilary.krieger (Hilary Krieger, Washington editor): Welcome to a special FiveThirtyEight politics chat on the occasion of the government shutdown! We’re going to talk about what this means for Democrats, Trump and immigration because, with the government not functioning, what else is there to do? Just kidding, that’s the case every day and we find plenty of other things to do. But this is what Washington wants us to pay attention to, so we’re complying. Okay, let’s get started.

Ahem.

So, the Democrats finally did it. They took a stand on an issue that shut down the government, saying they wouldn’t approve a federal funding bill if it didn’t include protections for undocumented immigrants brought to the U.S. as children (aka DACA, after the Obama-era program Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals). Do you think that was a politically smart idea?

perry (Perry Bacon Jr., senior writer): My initial thought is no. It will be hard for them not to take at least some of the blame for the shutdown. And I don’t necessarily see how easy it will be for them to reach the outcome they want: a DACA bill.

anna (Anna Maria Barry-Jester, immigration and health reporter): The polling around immigration, attitudes towards DACA and the shutdown paints a pretty complicated picture. The majority of the country wants a long-term fix for DACA, people don’t want the government shut down over an immigration bill, and the country at large is all over the place on what it wants in terms of immigration more broadly.

hilary.krieger: So I’m going to disagree a bit with Perry on the politics of this. I agree that the Democrats will be blamed to some extent, and I don’t think it will necessarily result in DACA moving forward. But it seems like we’ve entered the era of base politics. This will win Democrats points with the base, say to the GOP that they’re willing to play hardball too, and in general the public will get annoyed and then more or less get over it (given their past attitudes on shutdowns and the lack of punishment they’ve meted out to the GOP when they’ve done them).

On the other hand, it’s important to keep in mind that I recently said there was only a 10 percent chance the government would shut down, so I obviously don’t really know what I’m talking about.

perry: If your general view is that people will forget about this shutdown like four weeks after it happens and Democrats will still make gains in November, I agree with that.

hilary.krieger: Yes, that is my view too. But also, embracing a more extreme, confrontational, tea party-style politics seems to be what the Democratic base wants, and this may motivate them more. The rest of the country, while annoyed, has gotten enough used to this brinkmanship that they won’t hold it against the Democrats in significant amounts.

perry: But I’m not sure this shutdown increases the odds of a DACA provision passing. It’s already pretty clear that at least 218 House members and 60 senators would back some kind of DACA-style law with a few border enforcement measures attached. The problem is House Speaker Paul Ryan and Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell don’t want to push a bill that the majority of Republicans oppose, even though I think Trump would sign it.

hilary.krieger: Anna, do you think this helps Democrats get something done on DACA?

anna: I have no idea. What I can say is, on the one hand, there’s pretty broad support for a solution to give people who were brought to the U.S. as children some kind of legal status. On the other, that’s been the case for a while now, and it hasn’t been politically possible to pass a bill.

hilary.krieger: Do you have a sense of how important immigration and DACA is to the Democratic Party. Why have they made this the issue to shut down the government over?

anna: The first answer to that question: It’s out of necessity — and I don��t mean political necessity. Trump ended the program and the protections for the people in it stop in early March.

perry: Three things appear to be going on here: 1. Democrats are frustrated with Trump and feel like he is weak and can be beaten on every issue; 2. Latinos are a key part of the Democratic base — exit polls suggest about 15 percent of Hillary Clinton voters in 2016 were Latino; 3. White Democrats are moving left on racial issues — they’re more “woke,” one might say. So immigration is, like policing, an issue that disproportionately affects people of color and animates the Democratic Party.

anna: Right, so I think we can be skeptical and say Latinos are an important part of the Democratic coalition so Democrats are pushing this, but part of the reason Latinos are part of the Democratic coalition is the party’s stance on immigration.

hilary.krieger: On Perry’s first point, do you think this move will make Trump look weaker? How much does this standoff hurt him?

perry: Trump’s approval numbers had been inching upward. So a shutdown and whatever he says during the shutdown aren’t likely to help him.

But I doubt Democrats decided to go this route to take Trump’s approval ratings down — or because they are already low. It’s more likely that Democrats are just frustrated with Trump, from his election to his first year as president to the “shithole” controversy. I think they don’t respect him or his policy views.

hilary.krieger: So let me ask my initial question the other way: How dangerous was it for Democrats NOT to shut down the government over DACA?

perry: I think Anna disagrees here, but I have always expected Trump to have to eventually adopt some kind of DACA policy, because the concept behind DACA (people brought to the U.S. as young children should not be under any risk of deportation) is very popular. So I didn’t totally see the need for a shutdown. But Democrats seem to feel that Trump will never actually accept a DACA deal without a shutdown.

anna: I guess the combination of the last decade or so of failed efforts to deal with real problems with our immigration system, strong bipartisan support for DACA (though there’s strong resistance within the Republican Party) and with a White House with such a restrictionist stance, I’m just not sure what makes a bill pass. Is it the March deadline? Is it the spending bill?

hilary.krieger: So maybe Democrats have made it harder for Trump to sign a DACA bill now, because he’s more backed into a corner on it.

What about red-state Democrats? Are they in a tough spot on this?

perry: I can imagine their GOP opponents saying, “You were willing to cut off military funding to protect people who are here illegally.” Those red states have low Latino populations and not that many hard-core Democrats.

hilary.krieger: Right — though maybe the general trends in favor of Democrats will give them enough cover to weather that?

perry: I don’t think there is much room for cover for a Democrat running statewide in Indiana or Missouri. You need to run an error-free campaign to win. And this maybe is the one error.

hilary.krieger: What do you guys think this means for the Democratic Party as a whole? Are we entering a new era, at least on the tactical front?

perry: I’ll be honest: I’m still surprised Democrats did this. They are the pro-government party. Their members have been wary of shutdowns. And traditionally, Democrats have been willing to ignore their base, particularly the non-white part of it. (Who else are Latinos going to vote for if they want a pro-immigration party?)

But maybe the lesson Democrats took from 2016 and 2017 was moderation is not necessary. Trump won while taking very controversial positions. The Democrats won in 2017 (in key state legislative races, the New Jersey and Virginia gubernatorial contests, the Alabama U.S. Senate race) while the party was broadly taking an uncompromising, anti-Trump approach.

Look at how Cory Booker and Kamala Harris are behaving: fiery, anti-Republican, pro-shutdown. I don’t think they are fundamentally different politicians than Barack Obama in 2005, but the base wants confrontation, not peace and love (or hope and change) and they are trying to meet that demand. (I think that’s a useful comparison in that those three are black senators from blue states who have (or had) presidential aspirations.)

hilary.krieger: Yep. I think this is the new New Democrats.

anna: I don’t know if this is a shift or desperate times call for desperate measures.

hilary.krieger: If this works, what effect do you think it will have more broadly on the issue of immigration, Anna? You just detailed some of the retreat that’s occurred among pro-immigration forces. Will this reinvigorate immigration activists?

anna: It seems unlikely there will be broad reforms on immigration during this presidency. I would guess that passing a long-term fix for DACA would invigorate pro-immigrant groups AND immigration restrictionists. I would guess they will be at an impasse on other issues related to immigration. Certainly there would be a strong desire among some Republicans to pass something tough on immigration to wash this down.

perry: Whenever Democrats have control of something again, they are going to cut way, way back on the number of deportations done by the Immigrations and Customs Enforcement agency, look to legalize the full undocumented population and take every step possible to embrace the country’s growing Latino population.

The Republicans (at least Trump, the party’s leader) have to some extent exposed themselves as preferring white immigrants to non-white immigrants and I think that will make anti-immigration stands seem racist and push any Democrats away from them. Montana Sen. Jon Tester voted against the Dream Act (which would have created a path to citizenship for undocumented people like those who have enrolled in DACA) in 2010. I don’t see many Democrats doing that in the future.

anna: I agree. There’s a short-term answer and a long-term answer to that question, really. And the answers are perhaps very different.

There are still millions of people in the U.S. who have been here without authorization for a long time. The issues aren’t going away.

hilary.krieger: OK, looking to wrap this up and get to a national park (they’re mostly staying open during this particular government shutdown, apparently, begging the question of just what the definition of a shutdown is …) Anyhoo, last thoughts Perry?

perry: The sorting of the two parties into one that is very heavily white and another where about half of the people are people of color is not ideal. It creates a dynamic where any policy that benefits black and Latinos gets defined as liberal, and any that helps working-class whites as conservative. A shutdown over immigration policy reinforces that racial-partisan divide.

This is where a President Trump is so different than a President Rubio or a President Jeb Bush. The Norway and shithole comments by Trump turned what was a debate that had obvious racial undertones into a debate that is now explicitly about race. On the one hand, it’s great to actually talk about what we are talking about, instead of having coded conversations that are really about race but no one will say so. On the other hand, if the Trump position is defined as “racist,” it’s hard for Democrats to make a compromise with him.

hilary.krieger: What about you, Anna?

anna: That we’re in a place where the Children’s Health Insurance Program and legal status for people who have been in the U.S. since they were children — two things that aren’t that controversial to the population at large — are bargaining chips for funding the government does not say good things about where we are as a country.

perry: This goes to something that is under-understood: The House Freedom Caucus basically has veto power over legislation, because Ryan generally wants to pass bills with GOP votes. The public is very supportive of CHIP funding and DACA, but Freedom Caucus members, while not explicitly saying this, are not wild about these programs, so they basically want to get some conservative policies in exchange for allowing DACA and CHIP to continue.

The reality is that on immigration we really have three parties: Trump and the conservatives; Sens. Jeff Flake, Lindsey Graham and other more moderate Republicans as well as the red-state Democrats, who basically want a DACA deal and then to move on from this issue; and Democrats who are really pro-immigration.

Another layer of complexity: Trump has very unpopular specific positions on immigration (like building the wall) but won the election while talking about his broader anti-immigration vision.

anna: Therein lies the tension.

[officialpeebee]

Quarantine (pt. 2)

Fandom: Mass Effect Andromeda Pairing: Jarun Tann/Original f!Human Character Word Count: 3286 Part: 2 of 2 (Part One) Commissioned by: @bunnythemonsterslayer​

The door to Tann’s office was closed when Michelle arrived. His assistant informed her that the Director was in a meeting, but that he should be finished up soon if she wanted to wait. Michelle took a seat on one of the uncomfortable couches in the vestibule, half-watching the colony vids on the screens around her as she waited.

A few minutes had passed when the door to Tann’s office hissed open. Kesh stormed out seconds later, her face a flat mask of anger. The krogan marched over to the reception desk, and the assistant shrank back a little as she approached.

“I need you to book Tann into a meeting,” she said. “Tomorrow morning. Maintenance.”

The assistant pulled up something on their terminal. “I’m afraid Director Tann is busy until the afternoon-”

“Move something around.” Kesh leaned across the desk. “I’m sure that’s not beyond your capabilities.”

“I- I’ll see what I can do.”

Kesh nodded, then turned to leave. Catching sight of Michelle, she paused. “I’d leave it if I were you,” she said. “Number Eight is being even more insufferable than usual.” She walked out of the vestibule without waiting for a reply.

“Don’t mind her,” the assistant said. “She and Tann are always butting heads over something. You can go in now.”

“Thank you.” Still feeling a little uneasy, Michelle got to her feet and walked over to the office door.

Tann was at his terminal when she entered the room. He was typing furiously, and his eyes were half-lidded with anger. Michelle guessed that whatever he and Kesh had spoken about, it hadn’t left the Director in a good mood. She wondered whether she had picked the right time to visit.

“Ms. Mayer,” Tann said, not looking up from the screen. “Take a seat. I’ll be with you shortly.”

Michelle did as she was asked, pulling up a chair and waiting patiently while the Director finished off whatever angry memo he was sending out. When Tann was done he sat back in his chair and breathed out a long, slow sigh.

“Sorry to keep you,” he said. “What’s the problem? Is there an issue with your new assistant?”

“What?” Michelle said. “Oh, no. Shuri’s great. There’s no problem.”

“Then why are you here, Ms. Mayer?”

His blunt tone knocked her off kilter a little. “I, ah. I just wanted to thank you. For approving my request, I mean. I appreciate it.”

“Oh.” Tann blinked, then turned back to his terminal screen. “Personnel requests fall under my remit. I approve those that are necessary. You don’t need to thank me for doing my job.”

Michelle frowned at him. “I know I don’t need to,” she said. “But you said yourself, resources are tight. You did the department a good turn.”

“You’re mistaking necessity for altruism, Ms. Mayer,” he said. “Your point about angaran relations was a good one. Your request was reviewed, and approved. You’re making too much of it.”

“I disagree, Director.” Michelle knew that she should drop it, but Tann’s words had rankled her. “We’re trying to build a new society here. Don’t you think supporting each other is important?”

Tann closed his eyes for a moment, then reluctantly turned away from his terminal. “It is, of course,” he said. “However, I think-”

Michelle never got to find out what it was that Tann thought. An ear-splitting klaxon cut him off mid-sentence, and the lights in the room dimmed to red. Tann got out of his chair and moved towards the door, but it had shut and locked before he reached it.

“What’s going on?” Michelle shouted over the alarm.

“I’m not sure,” Tann replied, returning to his desk and pulling up his comms. “Hang on.”

He tapped his Omni-tool a few times, and a moment later a turian’s face appeared on the comms screen.

“Kandros,” Tann said. “What is this? What’s happening?”

“Don’t panic, sir,” Kandros said, his voice calm. “It’s a precautionary measure. One of the planetside researchers brought an alien pathogen on board. Our scanners didn’t pick it up.”

The Director’s eyes narrowed. “Explain to me why this isn’t a cause for panic?”

“It was caught early,” Kandros said. “Medical says it’s non-lethal, they just want us to enforce a temporary quarantine while we run decontamination protocols.”

Michelle had heard enough. Moving off to the side of the room, she opened the comm link in her own Omni-tool and patched a call through to Pediatrics. The alarms stopped while she was waiting for someone to pick up, but the red light on the door panel remained as it was.

“Hello?”

Michelle recognised Saavi’s voice. “Hey,” she breathed. “You guys okay in there?”

“Not really,” Saavi said. “Kids freaked out when they heard the alarms. Do you know what’s happening?”

“Temporary quarantine. Nothing to worry about, apparently. Are all the kids accounted for?”

“Yeah. Luckily it happened in the middle of classes. None of them are stuck alone anywhere.”

Michelle breathed a sigh of relief. “Good. Right. Okay. Here’s what I want you to do. Send out a memo to all the parents. Tell them their children are safe, and that you’ll contact them as soon as you’ve got more information.”

“Got it. Anything else?”

“Standard panic-button procedure,” Michelle said. “Vids and snacks. They’ll calm down once they realise classes are cancelled. Oh, and if you could-”

“Ms. Mayer.” Tann called to her from his desk. He was still speaking to Kandros. “Can that wait? I have important things to deal with.”

Michelle’s temper flared. “So do I,” she said. “I’ve got a department full of terrified kids. Is that not important?”

Tann looked as though he was going to say something, then thought better of it. He nodded at her before returning to his own call.

The two of them spent the next hour making frantic calls on opposite sides of the office, each trying to sort out their own set of problems. Kandros had said that the lockdown would be in place for at least a few hours. Michelle was getting agitated. She trusted her staff implicitly, but she hated not being there while something like this was happening. She kicked herself for hurrying over to Operations when she had. Tann hadn’t even acknowledged her thanks. It suddenly seemed like a pointless waste of time.

After a while they ran out of people to contact. Things were calming down on the station, and all that was left to do was wait it out. Tann, predictably, returned his attention to his terminal. Luckily Michelle’s datapad had been in her jacket pocket, and she had plenty of work to do. Perhaps this would be a blessing, she thought. Finally she had some time to catch up with the million small jobs she had been putting off. She found a half-comfortable spot on the floor - spending your time with children gave you a great appreciation for sitting on the floor - and got to work.

After answering a few messages Michelle turned her attention to other matters. She opened a file on her datapad and laid it down in front of her, then set her Omni-tool to record.

“KSSSH.” Michelle enunciated the sound as loudly as she was able. She listened back to it and, pleased with the results, set it to record again. “DRRRT.”

“Ms. Mayer?”

Michelle looked up. She had half forgotten that Tann was there. The Director was staring at her with a look of abject confusion on his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Sorry.” Michelle felt herself colour. “Krogan phonics.”

“I can’t say I understand,” he frowned.

“Language tools,” Michelle said. She picked up her datapad and zoomed in on a set of characters, then held it up for Tann to look at. “See that? It’s the most common phoneme in most Tuchankan dialects. If children can link the sounds to their characters, their spelling and written language improves. This one sounds like SH-”

Tann held out a hand to stop her. “Yes, Ms. Mayer, I think I understand,” he said. “I didn’t know you spoke Krogan.”

“Well,” Michelle said, wrinkling her nose. “Technically the krogan don’t have a single language. There’s not as much linguistic diversity as on other homeworlds, but there’s still a few distinct vernaculars.”

The Director nodded thoughtfully at that. “Do you speak any other languages?”

“A little bit of nearly everything,” she said. “Enough to get by, anyway. I’m trying to learn a few angaran dialects right now.”

“How is that going?”

“Not well.” Michelle tried to make the purring sound so common in Ayan languages, and failed. “See?”

To Michelle’s great surprise, Tann laughed at her botched attempt. She did not think she had ever seen him laugh before. He looked like a different person without a frown plastered across his face.

“I wonder,” he said. “Do you speak any Talatian?”

“Of course,” Michelle nodded. It was the official language of Sur’Kesh, common among spacefaring salarians. “Can’t promise it’ll be good, though. Turn your translator off.”

Tann did as he was asked, then sat back in his chair and gestured for her to continue.

“Ahem.” Michelle cleared her throat, then searched for something to say. “I sigh and breathe and sing until my throat is desert-dry, under skies and under water and the ever-burning eye.”

Tann’s eyes widened at her words, and he switched his translator back on before responding. “You know Solidae Drass?”

“Only a little,” she shrugged. “Poetry is a good way to learn new languages. Gives you a feel for them.”

“Have you read the novel Drass wrote? It’s not as popular as his poetry. Underrated, I think.”

Michelle shook her head. “Never heard of it.”

The Director tapped at his Omni-tool for a moment, and a second later Michelle’s datapad chirped. She looked up at Tann, confused.

“I forwarded you a copy,” he said. “I think you’ll enjoy it.”

“Are you going to snap at me if I try and thank you?” Michelle bit down on her tongue as soon as she had said it, but it was too late.

Tann looked at her for a moment. “I probably deserved that,” he said. “My meeting with Nakmor Kesh did not go well this morning. I… apologise for taking it out on you, Ms. Mayer.”

“Apology accepted,” she said. “And you can call me Michelle.”

He nodded slowly. “I suppose I could.”

“Does that mean I get to call you Jarun?”

Tann smirked. “I’d rather you didn’t. Though it’s better than Number Eight, I suppose.”

“I heard Kesh call you that earlier,” she said. “Can I ask what it means?”

“I’m surprised you don’t know already,” he sighed. “She loves that nickname. I was eighth in line for my position. The seven who would have been my predecessors either died or were exiled during the uprising.”

Michelle thought for a moment, counting silently on her fingers. “Number nine.”

“Excuse me?”

“That makes me Number Nine,” she said. “In Pediatrics, I mean. I wasn’t supposed to have my job either.”

“I didn’t know that,” he said quietly. “You could have fooled me. I’ve always thought you incredibly competent.”

Michelle fought back the flush that threatened to rise in her cheeks, and failed. “Oh. Thank you. To be honest, I didn’t think you knew me from Adam.”

“I receive performance reports from all the departments, Ms- Michelle,” he corrected himself. “Pediatrics has been doing well ever since it opened. I don’t doubt that you’re responsible for that.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, getting to her feet and pulling up a chair. “My staff are wonderful. They deserve just as much credit.”

Tann shook his head. “You do yourself a disservice. It’s not easy, rising to a challenge like that.”

“I suppose you would know,” Michelle said. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing a pretty great job too.”

The Director seemed a little taken aback by that. “Oh. Thank you. I’ve done my best. This is… not what I expected my time in Andromeda to be.”

At that moment Tann’s comms flickered into life, and Kandros appeared on the screen.

“Progress report?” Tann asked, his face the picture of stern professionalism again.

“The pathogen has been isolated, so we’re out of the woods,” Kandros said. “It’ll still be a few hours before we lift the quarantine, though. Sit tight.”

Tann sighed, resting his forehead against his knuckles. “This is not ideal.”

“Hey,” Kandros frowned. “At least your office has a bathroom.” The turian flickered, then disappeared.

“Well,” Michelle said, putting on the chirpy face she so often had to use for work. “I suppose we’d better make the best of this. I know a great song about a pyjak. We could sing it in rounds.”

Tann chuckled, then paused for a moment. “I think I might have a better idea.” He pulled open his desk drawer and, to Michelle’s surprise, produced a bottle of Helo. The algae-based liquor wasn’t often seen outside of salarian space, but it was safe for humans to drink. Safe, if not entirely pleasant.

“I tried this once,” Michelle said. “One of my parents bought it back from Sur’Kesh. It’s… interesting.”

“It might be the only bottle in the galaxy,” Tann said. “I was saving it for a special occasion.”

Michelle raised her eyebrows at him. “And you want to drink it now? Are you sure?”

“I don’t see why not,” he shrugged. “Colonising a new galaxy is time consuming. I can’t imagine there’s going to be many ‘special occasions’ in the next few years.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Michelle said. “Besides - you’re the boss.”

There weren’t any glasses in the office - Tann was not a ‘business deals over whiskey and cigars’ kind of guy - but he managed to find two half-empty coffee cups, which he washed out in the sink. Michelle poured generous measures of the green liquid into the mugs. It smelled like grass and salt.

“We need to toast,” Michelle said, raising her cup. “What shall we toast to?”

“The Initiative?”

Michelle shook her head. “Too boring.”

“Salarians don’t really ‘toast’. You think of something.”

“Alright. Hmm.” She considered for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “Got it. To being thrown in at the deep end, and learning how to swim.”

“I like it,” Tann smiled. “Solidae Drass would be proud.” He raised his mug, and Michelle touched hers to it. The liquor was thick and vaguely earthy, but not as bad as she remembered.

They spent the next few hours talking and sipping at their mugs of Helo. Michelle had no intentions of getting particularly drunk - at some point that day she would have to go back and deal with a department full of stressed out kids - but after a while she began to feel pleasantly hazy. It had been a long time since she had simply sat and talked to someone. Work was always getting in the way.

It took a while, but eventually she managed to coax Tann into opening up about himself a little more. He told her about his life back in the Milky Way, and his motivations for joining the Initiative. Behind the professional exterior he was surprisingly idealistic. That in itself didn’t come as a surprise - no one without a capacity for dreams would join a venture as wild as the Initiative - but he spoke about Andromeda with a passion she had not expected from him. It was clear that he took his job seriously, but there was something in his words that suggested regret. Regret that he couldn’t have done more, regret that he was chained to the Nexus while Ryder and others went out to build colonies. It was a little sad, hearing him speak that way.

He prompted Michelle to talk about herself, too. She told him about her life in childcare, her education, her work on the Nexus. A few times she felt herself slipping into shop talk, then forced herself to stop. For once she didn’t want to focus on the job. There was a simple pleasure in getting to know another person. A person over the age of twelve, who didn’t eat food off the floor or bite people when they were angry. It was a novelty, for certain.

They talked a little more about poetry, too. Tann knew very little about poets outside his own race, and the two of them had switched their translators off while Michelle had attempted to recite the few passages her Helo-fogged mind could remember.

After a while she gestured for Tann to switch his translator back on. “Hey. Can I show you something on your terminal?” she said. “There’s this amazing quarian poet, Dala’Kor vas Basha, but I’m no good at the language.”

“Of course.” Tann got out of his chair to make room for Michelle, who moved around to the other side of the desk and began to type in her search.

“Listen to it in the original dialect if you get a chance,” she said. “Even if you can’t understand it, it’s beautiful.”

Once she found a decent vid she put it on, and stood back to watch it play. As they listened to the slow, lilting quarian verse, Michelle grew very aware of how close she and Tann were standing. If she reached out, just a little, she could touch his hand. She wondered idly what it would feel like. He was such lovely colours, all pale blue and-

Tann cleared his throat conspicuously, and Michelle realised that she had been staring.

“Oh,” she said. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…” she trailed off, not sure what it was she hadn’t been meaning to do.”

“It’s alright,” Tann said, his voice quiet. “I am… glad that you were here when they called the lockdown. It’s been a long time since I had a real conversation with someone.”

Michelle swallowed. “Yeah. Me too.”

They were closer now. Dala’Kor vas Basha recited away behind them, her words now being roundly ignored. At first Michelle thought that she was imagining Tann tilting his head towards hers, but after a moment she wasn’t so sure. Then she was pressed back against the desk, and his mouth was on hers, and he was cool and soft and tasted like liquor.

Then the klaxon sounded again, and the door mechanism beeped as it unlocked.

Michelle sprang back a second before Tann’s assistant rushed into the room, their skin flushed in agitation.

“Director, is everything alright?” they said. “Kandros said just to stay put but I wasn’t sure if I should-” They stopped mid-sentence as they spotted the open bottle of Helo on the table, the poetry vid, Michelle standing conspicuously in the corner. “Oh.”

“Everything is fine,” Tann said, his voice as cool and professional as always. “Have Kandros come up here right away. I need a full report.”

The assistant nodded, looking thoroughly grateful for a reason to leave the room. They pointedly closed the door behind them.

“Well then,” Michelle said, trying to sound nonchalant. “I’d better get back to Pediatrics. Have you ever seen an angry krogan mother? It’s not pretty.”

Tann nodded. “You should. I also have business to attend to.”

Michelle felt herself deflate at his words. She had hoped that whatever spell they had been under that day wouldn’t break so quickly. Collecting her jacket and datapad, she made her way to the door.

“Michelle?”

She turned back to look at him. “Yes?”

“Are you working tomorrow night?”

“I, ah- no, I’m not, actually.”

Tann nodded. “Perhaps you would like to get a drink somewhere? If you’re not busy, of course.”

“Yeah.” Michelle couldn’t hide the grin that spread across her face. “Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

[avelera]

POTC:5 - A Hot Mess, with some glimmers of heart

I actually wrote this a few days ago on the plane and consistently forgot to post so here we go Maggie’s analysis of the hot mess that is POTC5 (and thoughts on how it could have been improved). 

So PotC:5 was a hot mess and totally deserves a hard 57% rating, with a good portion of that rating based latent affection for the franchise.

THAT BEING SAID, they broke Will’s curse so given that I have been waiting 10 YEARS (10 YEARS IN AZKABAN/ ON THAT ISLAND WITH ELIZABETH) for that to happen, and it happened, I’m gonna say my time may have been 90% wasted but I’m not unhappy that I saw it.

The thing is, I think there were scraps of  good movie in there somewhere. Not in the same was as say, Wonder Woman (where I think there was a superb movie in there had they only been allowed to simply rearrange some of their scenes and tweak a plot twist or two) but still. Frankly, I don’t think the scenes that would have made POTC:5 great were even shot, but there’s some structural hints towards their potential.

So here’s what I would have done to tweak POTC:5 to make it a better story along the lines of a novel. To my admittedly untutored eye, there was a lot of things that look like they could have been improved, and maybe there was even a stage of the script where the writers would have liked them to be improved, but things such as studio requirements, actor availability, and actor preference prohibited it. I have no idea what the exact making of this movie entailed but let’s just say, for example, I don’t think Keira Knightley wanted to make this movie, even though it would have been vastly improved by her presence.

Tweaks and Improvements:

1) Replace or at least partner Elizabeth with Barbossa. Frankly, we left her as Pirate King and it would have been amazing to see her *ahem* Swanning around on that opulent ship along with him, enforcing her title. I would have adored a subplot in which Henry has either essentially run away from home or, say, a respectable life that Elizabeth set up for him, or that he has simply gone missing and she’s been looking for him. Frankly, the very idea that Henry could be working on breaking the Will’s curse and have a lead and Elizabeth isn’t on that boat with him is crazy to me. The only understandable explanation is metatextual, ie Keira wasn’t available for the film. Pirate King Elizabeth should have been on that quest with them, and it could have provided some really excellent moments of action, pathos and even comedy. It may have also spared us some of the unrelenting fixation on fathers too, or at least balanced it with one present, capable mother instead of the endless string of fridged Disney Moms like Carina’s.

Some scenes it would have allowed - fuckin’ Pirate King Elizabeth overtaking Henry & Co. and giving the “I’m not here to stop you…. I’m here to join you.” speech. Moments of bonding between Henry and Elizabeth. Elizabeth expressing her loss of Will, and Henry sharing it. Humorous tension of having your mom onboard when you’re starting to crush on a girl and also prove yourself. Elizabeth’s total lack of interest in Jack and their inevitable banter… I mean frankly, the only reason not to have her is how much she would have stolen the show. MOVING ON.

2) Carina should have been Salazar’s daughter, not Barbossa’s. Frankly, the Barbossa thing just made… no sense at all. He’s never mentioned or shown interest in a family before, it just doesn’t really fit with his story, and I’m pretty sure that even if he wasn’t a ghost at that point of her conception (assuming Carina is younger than Henry but that’s not necessarily a given), it means he had her after POTC:3 which is… weird. Unless I’m missing something from POTC:4.

Reasons Carina should have been Salazar’s daughter instead:

Shared features: We got quite a few interesting close-ups of Salazar’s black waving hair, which looks a great deal like Carina’s. In contrast, technically under all the liver damage, Barbossa does have blue eyes but there any resemblance to Carina ends. Salazar actually looks at least a little like he could be her father, enough to serve as an actual clue to her heritage instead of the out of nowhere revelation about Barbossa. There’s the issue of the accent but they could either hand wave that by saying she studied in England or hire a hispanic actress, or have the actress assume a hint of a Spanish accent. Either way, it’s not a huge hurdle.

Salazar was clearly a good guy and successful before his transformation into a ghost thing, it explains how Carina got such a high-end education as to be an astronomer and a horologist, something that was never explained by the film, because by all accounts if the ruby was all Barbossa left her and she didn’t spend it, Carina would have grown up penniless. Salazar, as a Spanish officer of his own ship, would have been in a much better position for his family and estate to see that his daughter had a fantastic education.

It would have allowed Carina’s story to mirror Henry’s, that both of them are trying to free their father from a sea curse. Frankly, her not believing in magic and still going after the map thing is a bit of cognitive stretch. Having both of them trying to break a curse on their father would have been a nice parallel. You could even have it that Carina is skeptical about her father’s curse, but still sees the trident as a means of “freeing” him or at least convincing him to come home if he’s just gone mad. It could also provide a dramatic scene where maybe her whole life she hasn’t allowed herself to believe that her father was really “cursed” rather than dead or a deadbeat, and she tries to convince Henry that his father is no more cursed than hers and is only absent. Then, at the first sight of magic she could have a true moment of emotion, realizing it was indeed a curse that kept her once-heroic father away from her and her family.

Frankly, Salazar’s story is all over the place. Especially his morality. I get that this is “Pirates” of the Caribbean so the pirates are the good guys, but he was something of an actual good guy at least along the lines of Norrington before he went down and became all ghosty. Also, the moment where they become human again was actually rather emotional. I didn’t really understand why he was still a bad guy after they got turned back? Why the vengeance? How about instead let him get an actual redemption arc, his daughter talking him down from his mercilessness towards pirates because they’re the ones who helped free him. That also eliminates the need for Barbossa’s rather random and out of character “sacrifice” at the end, if he doesn’t need to die taking down Salazar.

(I gotta say, for like a split second I thought the witch would turn out to be Carina’s mother and her and Barbossa gave her up to give her a better life so failing a Salazar parenthood I could totally accept that too.)

3) Just… less Jack Sparrow, please. His wacky hijinks are at their best when they’re played against someone who is actually trying to pursue the plot. That’s why he was such a good foil and antagonistic ally for Will and Elizabeth, he’s best when he’s a wild card. But also, the schtick is getting a bit old. Hence why it would have been nice to have Elizabeth in the film to play off him a bit.

That being said, the glimpse we got of Young Jack the Sparrow was waaaay hotter than I expected, like I never had a real thing for Sparrow like many others did but godDAMN young cocky pirate kid who is just finding his sea legs, wasn’t totally crazy yet, and looked like he walked off the set of Black Sails was one of the small highlights of the film. It just goes to show what giving Jack Sparrow even a dash of integrity can do to strengthen the character.

Another thing absent from the film which was desperately needed - some connection between Henry and Jack Sparrow. It seemed assumed but never shown. Really, we got a ton of Jack Sparrow being disdainful of Will and Elizabeth, but I’d like to think that he would feel at least a little protective of their child. There was moments in the film that seemed to hint at that, but it would have been nice to get a verbal admission at some point (unless I missed it) along the lines of how he actually does care about them beneath his wacky and selfish exterior, and by extension doesn’t want their son to die.

Overall the film felt like 3 or 4 film ideas sort of crammed into one story. I definitely saw snippets of discarded plots, the whole possession of Henry came out of nowhere (though I forgive it because possession is my jam), Salazar’s pathos went in and out in favor of him in the end just remaining a monster despite the fact he just got his life back, Carina’s backstory and relation to Barbossa makes no sense at all, Elizabeth not participating makes no sense at all, and characters would randomly move vast distances or have extremely helpful coincidences just when they needed them to a level that went beyond “fun adventure story” and into “writer clearly ended up in a corner, again” territory.

I think the best parts of the film came down to Henry’s authenticity and his quest to save his father. The scene at the beginning where he meets Will by nearly dying was perhaps my favorite of the whole film, if not for the ending, and with just those two I would have been quite content. The film really needed to be more about that and less about Sparrow hijinks, which are always a great spice but they are a terrible center piece. POTC has consistently been the story of Elizabeth and Will, and it loses a lot of its fire when it shifts to be about Sparrow rather than their story serving as a stage where he could serve as jester and commentator. If this was to be the story of the next generation of Henry and Carina, it should have been allowed to remain fixated on them, and allowed there to be pathos in Carina’s story as much as Henry’s, which is why I think a parallel lost father and a connection to Salazar would have added a great deal.

I’m not sure if there’ll be a sixth film. It’s probably better if there isn’t. But I would be willing to drag myself back to the theater if we can finally see Will and Elizabeth again because frankly, apropos to nothing, their reunion was the single hottest most powerful moment of the whole movie and I’ll take a lot of confused garbage for that.

[fyeahwynonnaearp]

What Just Happened?!?: Whiskey Lullaby (S2E06)

I love this show. I don’t love often and I don’t love easily. So, do not take it lightly when I say, “I love Wynonna Earp.”

New & New-ish Character(s)

Poppy, Daughter of Hypnos (@kianamadeira): Caretaker of the dormant Hypnos until kidnapped by Tucker to become his pseudo-Waverly.

The Widows, previously known as the Women/Ladies In Black: The face stealing bitches strutting around Purgatory in their black Victorian mourning garb. Likes munching on whomever they just murdered, breaking seals that presumably help protect the Ghost River Triangle, and freezing people with their breath. At least now, they hate that little Tucker as much as the next Haught officer.

Agent Moody, AKA “Hey! It’s Art from Orphan Black!” (@KevinHanchard): The previous head honcho of BBD, Ghost River Triangle branch. He kindly informs the D&D Duo they are cut off from BBD before giving them a folder with info on The Widows.

Monster(s) of the Week

Hypnos, the Sandman: Chilling dormant in the Clockmaker Mansion until Tucker forcibly wakes him up; he was blackmailed into putting the entire town to sleep by the Widows. 

Final Thoughts (No Spoilers)

Holy emotions! This episode felt like the turning point of this season. It had a different tone compared to the rest of the first half. This was the first solo script from Caitlin D. Fryer (@cdemrys) who spent the first season as script coordinator, helping to write an episode and entered season two as story editor. The pacing was definitely slowed down, which worked well because it gave the characters time to catch up with the fuckery that went on in the past 7-or-so weeks after Willa’s death. 

Alternative title for this episode: In Which Emotions Are Felt. Not only is Wynonna dealing with the big plus sign and baby sister is not letting her avoid the topic, this season’s villains are also on the move. The Widows are hunting down seals and breaking seals and scheming. They are definitely scheming. Plus, Tucker is being Tucker. To make the situation even worse, there is no more BBD to back-up them up. No more resources. No more “I am the police...kinda”. No more income. No more healthcare? Well, they’re in Canada so they’re good. Thank Universal Healthcare. *ahem*

Anyways, Whiskey Lullaby was an emotional whirlwind of an episode with the Earp Sisters at the heart of it. They may each have their own relationship thingamajig going on, but that doesn’t interfere with their dynamic and their growing relationship with each other. 

Keep on reading for some spoiler-filled rants, theories, and general nonsense. No really, this one is long because I overanalyzed the crap out of this episode!

10 Things That Happened

1. The Powers To Be™ of Black Badge Division. I’ve mentioned previously about how the organization of BBD confuses me.  This scene with Moody and the D&D Duo provided more questions than answers. Here’s what I learned:

Basically, BBD has abandoned the Ghost River Triangle. Moody mentions the Powers To Be™ not wanting to spend anymore resources on something they deem a lost cause. It sounds plausible because, as we learned from season 1, there are other places and towns where demons run around like they’re on Rumspringa. But this begs the question: what is the ‘war’? Is it the 60-something Revenants left? Is it the new creatures that entered the Ghost River Triangle? Or is it with whatever is up with the Widows?

Black Badge Division is only “gone” in Ghost River Triangle (GRT). Correct me if I’m wrong, but it sounds as if the “BBD HQ” Jeremy, Lucado, and Dolls were talking about was the GRT branch of BBD. It certainly sounds as if there are other operatives/agents/Deputy Marshals and there are other missions in other places. So, as a whole, BBD still exists just not in the GRT. 

“Black Badge was never a government agency”. Well, like the X-Files then? Regardless, without the backing of BBD, Dolls’ and Wynonna’s badges are meaningless. Before, they operated within a very loose definition of “law”. Now, within The Squad™, Nicole is the only legitimate member of law enforcement. If that has major importance/connotations, only time will tell. 

Who the fuck are The Powers To Be™?!?

2. “You’ve lost our husband’s favor. You’ve lost the gift.” We find out, definitively, that The Widows were the ones that broke the asshole seal and they want to find and break the rest. It’s safe to assume that they are witches and knew Constance Clootie, the Stone Witch; perhaps, the three were in the same coven. Because they are called ‘the Widows’, their husband/husbands is/are dead. I have two theories based on whether they share a husband or not.

SHARED HUSBAND THEORY: The husband is being kept in a dormant state by the seals. By showing Hypnos, we learn it is possible to keep powerful demons in a dormant state. Widow!Mercedes also seem to despise Wyatt Earp. This can mean Wyatt killed their husband (making dormant!husband theory null) or Wyatt had a hand in creating the seals, which may explain the importance of The Plate™ and why it was owned by an Earp. The Plate™ could very well be connected to the third seal and was passed down the Earp family. Which brings the question, why wasn’t it already Earp property in the first place? Who took it from Edwin Earp? Who painted the 1952 Purgatory Fair over the Plate™?

SEPARATE HUSBANDS THEORY: “Our husbands’” but Widow!Beth was talking about two different, separate individuals. The fact that they’re identified as “Widows” means their husbands are dead. RIP. But, if their husbands are say supernatural and granted them both magical gifts/abilities and their husbands were the Stone Witch’s sons and they were killed by Wyatt Earp...

3. “What heir?”. It seemed that most, if not all, of the Bad Guy(s) of the Week knew about Wyatt Earp and Peacemaker and the Curse and the whole thing. We know that The Widows were kept by BBD, but not for how long. Honestly, when Widow!Mercedes asked the question I was like “Bitch! Where have you been?”. Then I realized that maybe, not ALL supernaturals/weird shit know about Peacemaker and the Earp Curse. But with the Widows, it’s definitely interesting that they don’t know about it. Why? Well...

Une: They clearly know of Wyatt Earp. So, they were around during his lifetime.

Deux: Sister Clootie. At the very least, they are of the same coven. Don’t they talk about what they’re up to? Like, “Hey, Sister Clootie. How was your day?”-”Sucks, but getting better. My sons were killed. Now I’m gonna find a way to curse Wyatt Earp for killing them.”

Trois: If my separate husbands theory is correct and they married the Stone Witch’s sons, they should know about the curse. Especially, if they helped cast the curse as revenge.

4. Ding-dong, the Stone Witch is dead. Although I was hoping we would see the return of Constance sometime this season, I am very much relieved she wasn’t a one-off forgotten villain. A lot of people are wondering why Doc is still alive if the Stone Witch died. REMEMBER: DOC HIMSELF HAS TO INFLICT THE DAMAGE TO THE STONE WITCH FOR HIM TO ALSO GET HURT. That is why Wynonna was the one to bury Constance in the salt flats. She wasn’t killed then because Doc wanted her to suffer as he did. Her death raises questions though. Is Doc no longer cursed? Is he now mortal? I know people are more worried about how Constance’s death affects Doc, but I think people should make the death of the Stone Witch a bigger deal! Why? (You guessed it) Here’s why:

SHE KNOWS ALL ABOUT THE SPECIFICS AND HISTORY OF THE EARP CURSE!!! When Wynonna and Doc were burying her in the salt flats, she tried to bargain and negotiate with them, but the duo were not in a mood to compromise. Doc really was driven to enact his vengeance and Wynonna, let’s be real, will do things her way and only her way.

The Stone Witch has a very detailed knowledge of the Earp Curse and the Ghost River Triangle. I think us, as the audience, are in the same boat as the Earp Sisters; they’re not really quite sure about the the full story of the curse and Triangle other than send 77 former-humans killed by Wyatt back to hell with Peacemaker before the Heir dies. But Constance knows about the curse because she (as I remember, please correct me if I’m wrong) is intimately connected to the Earp Curse.

Constance was involved in the placing of the Earp Curse in the first place, which you know! kind of important and seems to be a The More You Know™-thing the Earp Sisters need. We need to remind ourselves how the Earp Curse began. No, really. I need to remember how because I might be confusing myself. The catalyst of the Curse™ was basically Wyatt Earp killed something(s) or someone(s) he probably shouldn’t have and now has to deal with the consequence. Wyatt killed Constance’s sons. Constance said they were “more than human” and were probably halflings - children with her demon husband. This means that they were mortal sons of a demon because they were killed pre-curse. Now, who placed the curse? It was the demon father, if I remember correctly. If it was Constance, the Earp Curse would probably end with her death and although she is a strong witch, I don’t think she alone could cast a curse as immense as the Earp Curse. Thus, it was the demon father (which I will call “Clootie Demon”) that cursed Wyatt. Where is the Clootie Demon? Are they also connected to The Widows since Constance is? Are they the one being held back by the seals? (I refer to the Clootie Demon as they because although a demon, I don’t want to misgender any creature. LOL. But, seriously. You never know.)

5. Hypnos, the Sandman. We saw in the first season that not all Revenants had purely evil intentions (I.e. Fish and Levi). This episode we are introduced to Hypnos, a powerful time-manipulating/sleep-inducing demon. However, he has been ironically sleeping for quite sometime in his cozy mansion with his daughter, Poppy, as his caretaker. The Widows also mention that his mansion had spells protecting him from other demons, which raises the question: what creatures are in the GRT for protection? Did Hypnos really deserve to die and sent to hell because he was a powerful demon that could be exploited by others? Side Note: Why did the Widows expect Hypnos to know them? Did he and he just has memory issues?

THEORY/QUESTIONS: Peacemaker sends Revenants back to hell and can only come back if the heir died before putting down all 77. Does the rule only apply to Revenants? Or do all that Peacemaker shoots count (glowing orange, of course)? If not, would demons such as Hypnos and Mikshun/Mictian come back and look for revenge?

I go back to this point again and again, but it bears mentioning that Juan Carlo called the GRT a sanctuary. Does Dolls know that some creatures stay in the Triangle for protection and #NotAllDemons are meant to be sent to hell? One thing that really really! irked me was when Dolls justified the shooting of Hypnos because “He’s still a demon!” I shamelessly yelled, “So are you! Well, sorta” at my TV. It broke my heart a bit that Hypnos didn’t even get to see that his daughter was safe before his death.

6. Poppy, the Sandman’s Daughter. We find out that Poppy ran away at the end of the episode. She’s an interesting character and I have a feeling (and I hope) we see more of her in the future. Why? Here’s why:

This is the SECOND TIME in the show we are introduced with the idea of supernaturals having offspring(s). First was with Constance Clootie and her two sons. She mentioned them being something more than human and it is assumed that the father was a demon (of sorts). I always was confused with how to classify Constance. Was she a human witch? Or a specific type of creature that happen to be a witch? I personally think she was completely human that just happen to be a witch. I like this idea more because it opens up a lot of possibilities about the citizens of Purgatory and the Triangle as a whole. I also thought it was really interesting that Dolls’ immediate first thought was that Poppy was Hypnos’ girlfriend/lover. As if he never thought a demon would be or could be a father. Which brings me to a rather obvious question, who is Poppy’s mother and is she still around?

Will Poppy return for revenge? Poppy will realize that Wynonna/Dolls killed her father. Is she still somewhere in the Triangle? Does she have the same powers as Hypnos?

7. “Each touch...every kiss”. Between giggly kisses and before tongue kisses, Nicole nervously asks Waverly if she did things with Waverly!Waverly or Gooverly. Like everyone, I still do question the kiss during the homecoming game and the “Not good enough” comment. 

Anyways, I completely melted in this scene. The music, how the it was portrayed. For me, it was perfect. I’ve read and heard some people grumbling about how Wayhaught should have talked more. How they should have sat down and have a serious conversation about the possession. How all their scenes are them making out and having the sex. People want to see them just snuggling on the couch and having dinners and watching TV. I get it. I do. But I think it’s important to remember that they have only been official for about 2 months and seven of those weeks, Waverly was unknowingly possessed and taking care of her grieving sister and dealing with her identity as maybe not-an-Earp. As Emily Andras mentioned, Wayhaught didn’t really get a honeymoon period. Plus, I like them not having instant domesticity. They still have a lot to learn about one another and I like to think they try to plan dates but Wynonna keeps interrupting and Nicole keeps needing to take shifts because she’s like the only cop in Purgatory other than Nedley. Seriously, where’s all the cops? While I would love to see more of them on-screen and not have to come up with off-screen head canons, I understand that the show is called Wynonna Earp and will mostly get the narrative through Wynonna. I am just thankful with how pure and sexy and adorable and real the relationship is. I am thankful with how giving and respectful and honest Kat and Dom are in their portrayal of two women in a relationship. How true to the characters they are and how free and giving they are to the scene. OK. Wayhaught rant over. NOTE: Waverly said things and they did things during the other times.

8. The Three Seals. We learn that the Widows are after these seals which were hidden in various consecrated/holy grounds within the Triangle (or just within Purgatory?). Two out of three are already broken and it is assumed that the seals are..well, sealing something. The location of the final seal has yet been identified. So, it’s speculation time!!

THEORY: The third seal is being hidden in the Purgatory Volunteer Fire Department. In episode 5, Let’s Pretend We’re Strangers, Ewan (leader of The Order) mentioned to Goononna that the VFD was built on the site of an old church, on consecrated land. In addition, the last episode left off with Ewan mentioning he is open to teaming up with Wynonna. So it is safe to say we will be seeing him again sometime this season. Perhaps the importance of The Plate™ will be explained. The Order wanted it for a specific reason and if that reason is solely because it bears their emblem and they would like to keep any Order memorabilia...then, BRAVA! Emily Andras, your trolling has reached levels I did not know existed.

9. “Let’s play a new game”. Tucker the little fucker is channeling his inner “A”. We know the Widows gave him a magic-imbued necklace/ring(?) which made him immune to Hypnos’ sleeping spell. And as Hypnos told Wynonna, the body should remain unchanged. This means that Tucker was completely unharmed after jumping out the window (head first!) and that his shoulder remains bullet hole-free. Hypnos referred to him as the Widows’ “human familiar”. It could mean absolutely nothing or it could mean that he now has some sort of magical/supernatural attributes. All we know is that the Widows have no need to protect Tucker and they now want him gone for killing the Stone Witch. What makes Tucker think he can go up against the Widows and Officer Nicole Haught? Are there Gardner Family secrets yet to be uncovered?

10. “Poor asshole”. It is accepted that Doc Holliday is the official Baby Daddy. Doc Holliday impregnated his best friends great-great-grandaughter. The baby’s accelerated growth and actual conception is thought by Wynonna to be the consequence of the Curse. While it may be true that the Earp Curse was just ensuring the future of the Earp Heir lineage (assuming Waverly really isn’t biologically an Earp), it could also be due to the baby itself. Doc was cursed by Constance, but it was never fully explained what the curse entailed, only that Doc cannot harm the Stone Witch without also harming himself and he is cursed to live, and live and live and live. I think it’s interesting to note that while in the process of making Dolls’ serum, Doc and Rosita first used Doc’s blood but found that it didn’t work because they needed the pure blood of a demon. Is there a reason as to why they thought Doc’s blood would work? I have no knowledge of Peacemaker glowing orange when pointed at Doc, so he couldn’t be a demon. However, in the promo for episode 7, we see Doc being ‘stabbed’ in the back with a glowing-orange Peacemaker. What this means, we’ll shall see. In short, does Doc’s curse have an effect on Baby Donut Earp? With the death of the Stone Witch, do the terms and conditions of the curse change or is Doc curse-free and is now mortal?

If you somehow read through all my nonsense ranting and speculating, what are your thoughts? Let me know. Message me. Reply. I’d love to hear all thoughts, theories, rants, head canons, and general feels. BTW. Congrats for getting to the end. This one was long.

[wondrousworldbuilding]

Creating functioning civilizations in your fiction

Let’s be frank: a lot of this section is likely to be left out of your novel. Why? Because the ins-and-outs of how a city or village functions on a very basic level isn’t really that enthralling. Here and there, a detail will peek through into your narrative, but whole chunks of these thoughts will be jotted down as notes and then left alone forever. 

So why does it matter?

Like so many other aspects of worldbuilding, you--the writer--knowing every tiny detail will help you create a full, vibrant world on the page. You might not actually outline the history of your city’s sewage systems (ahem. we can’t all be Victor Hugo.) but if you’ve thought about these logistics and answered them even in a brief note to yourself, then the parts of your civilization that you do see on the page will feel consistent and real in an important way. 

(There is also some inevitable overlap between these aspects and your culture, so some questions might lean in that direction. Let it be a jumping-off point for more contemplation as you create.)

If you’re not a freak of nature like me and don’t want to spend time making your world absurdly flawless and perfect, than feel free to skip this entry. (But, I mean, why are you even following this blog if that’s the case??) Onward!

Where did basic building materials come from, both currently and historically? 

How uniform or varied are the buildings and houses of your civilization (both in style and material)?

How has the climate affected building style?

How culturally ingrained are the visuals (the cityscape) of the civilization?

How tight or spread-out are the buildings and homes in relation to one another? Is that because of culture or landscape necessity?

How has the city/town/village adapted to developing technologies and systems?

How accessible is water? How is it collected and distributed?

What foods are grown/bred locally? What is imported? 

How is the harvest of food handled on a logistical level? How are its ethics and its importance viewed by society as a whole?

Where do people go to the bathroom? How is sewage disposed of or recycled?

Does everyday life produce trash, or are all things reusable or recyclable? 

Does plastic exist? If so, how ubiquitous is it?

How is trash handled and disposed of?

What is/are the city’s primary energy source(s)?

Do the people pay taxes? How else might city funds be raised?

Do they have a money system? 

Is it used only within their town, or across the country?

Is money balanced with bartering, or does one take precedent over the other?

How is value determined, especially in a barter system?

What is the money based on? (gold? Or some other precious metal? Or some other resource entirely?)

How willing are citizens to pay for non-necessities and how does that affect the local businesses?

How is construction handled? By large groups of people or small teams with big equipment? Or magic? 

How are children educated? Who oversees it, if anyone?

How important is education to the people and how is that reflected in the system, facilities, and schedule?

What purpose does the downtown or “hub” area primarily serve?

Socialization

Bonfire pit

Park

Commerce

Farmer’s Market or local market

Corporate high-rises

Entertainment

Clubs

Sports arena

Theatre

Casino

When people get sick, what do they do? Do they have healthcare choices or do they only have the one doctor or single hospital where they have to do if they need help? How is healthcare paid for?

How are injured or dying people transported?

What kind of law enforcement does the city have? How much power do they possess? How are they viewed by citizens?

Is there some sort of fire department? Is it a city branch or is it volunteers? How are they prepared to fight fires?

What natural disasters are common and how is the town prepared for them? What happens when they occur?

What popular entertainment venues are there? How are they funded and run? What is their reputation?

What different entertainment options are there for the rich and the poor, or whatever class system your town has?

How are classes separated within the city?

If magic exists in your world, how is its use controlled or maintained within urban areas?

What kind of transportation do people use, in general? How is the town equipped to handle it?

If traffic jams can happen, how do people deal with them? What steps has the city taken to ensure smooth traffic flow?

What is it like when you first leave the city or village?

Landscape?

Distance to neighboring town?

Development of roads beyond the city (and who maintains them)?

What might be the first thing a newcomer to the city notices upon entering? Will she have an easy or difficult time navigating the place if she’s never been there before?

Check out the rest of the Brainstorming Series! Magic Systems, Part One Magic Systems, Part Two New Species New Worlds New Cultures Map Making Politics and Government Belief Systems & Religion Guilds, Factions, & Groups War & Conflict Science & Technology Wildlife & Ecosystems History & Lore

[lotstradamus]

what about the stairs in the forests!!! and what doc were you watching and would you recommend?

ok so I DON’T BELIEVE IN THE STAIRS IN THE FORESTS! mainly because I’m A Search and Rescue Officer for the U.S. Forest Service, and I Have Some Stories to Tell a) is posted on /r/nosleep so it’s definitely made up, b) the op admits to knowing about David Paulides, and lbr knowing about = being influenced by, so it’s definitely made up, and c) if you read all the way through to the end it stops being even vaguely believable and starts reading like a WTNV transcript, and then he plugs his book, so it’s DEFINITELY MADE UP. however, it is an amazing (read: terrifying) thread, some of it is obviously based on truths/insider SAR knowledge which means a lot of it is probably uncomfortably close to actually being true, and it’s a good Gateway Read into MISSING PEOPLE IN NATIONAL PARKS CONSPIRACY THEORIES, which is where I live now. (plus, if you read this before getting into anything else it imbues every single missing persons case with an unsettling sense of Eldritch horror, which is why I had to turn on three overheads and unfocus my eyes all the way to the bathroom last night at 2am.) 

so yeah, after reading that /r/nosleep thing for the first time I drew a line under it and moved on until SOMEONE (ahem, @roundtop) sent me a link to an article called How 1,600 People Went Missing from Our Public Lands Without a Trace (on a legit and sensible outdoorsy people website), like ‘haha, stairs in the forest!’ and I SWAN DIVED DOWN THE RABBIT HOLE. thus: the documentary-watching, staying up till 2am and spending all day today trying to find copies of David Paulides’ books for less than $80 inc. postage. 

THIS DUDE DAVID PAULIDES. he was in law enforcement before, for some reason, deciding to become a ~*~cryptozoologist~*~ and certified gung-ho Bigfoot conspiracy theorist, and through that found out about how many people had disappeared without a trace from National Parks in the U.S., did 7,000 hours worth of digging, and wrote a bunch of books about it. his books are called Missing 411 and are about the ridiculous number of people who go missing in National Parks, the usually weird circumstances around their disappearances, the fact that when people are found (dead or alive) it’s often in places miles and miles and sometimes waaaaay higher up mountains than where they disappeared from, and all sorts of creepy crap to boot. like they can’t get bloodhounds to find a scent, or they find tiny children miles away from where they got lost, barefoot, without a scratch on the soles of their feet, human remains being found years later in places that were search dozens and dozens of times. not to mention the National Parks… People (? I really don’t know enough to be making this post) are aware of what’s happening but don’t keep a list of the people who’ve gone missing on their lands. 

(which is all part of why I’m A Search and Rescue Officer for the U.S. Forest Service is so freaky – enough of it (people being found miles away, kids being found up mountains, the people in charge being cagey about it all) sounds real that you can believe it was actually written by a SAR Officer. heebies!) 

it’s all real nightmare fuel, if you’re the sort of person who is absolutely terrified by all this Scary Forest Disappearing People Unexplainable Deaths stuff, i.e. me. luckily I can’t afford to buy any of them! phew! however, I haven’t let that stop me from a) SCARING MYSELF SHITLESS and b) BECOMING A TIN HATTER, and it shouldn’t stop you either: you can read loads of stuff over at /r/missing411, listen to one of his initial interviews (in which he talks about how he was approached by two park employees in plain clothes who were like ‘please investigate this, there’s SOMETHING going on and it’s so goddamn weird’) on Coast to Coast AM (which is, like, a paranormal radio station… I’m sorry), watch a bunch of Paulides’/CanAm Missing Project’s vids about disappearances on youtube, and listen to hours worth of interviews and late night spooky radio/podcast discussions with Paulides. 

the documentary I thought I was watching was Missing 411, which is based on his books and Kickstarted by the public in 2015, but it turns out that they’re apparently shopping it around at festivals so it’s not out yet. what I was actually watching (and quickly abandoned) was a weird supercut of all of David Paulides’ tv interviews and some cryptozoologist chatter about Bigfoot. Paulides, god love him, never ever SAYS Bigfoot in any of his books, and everything he presents is 100% factually accurate and extensively researched, but… I think we can safely say he thinks it’s Bigfoot. tbh, after reading about Jaryd Atadero I think it’s Bigfoot. I mean, goddamn. 

so, yeah. I’ve finished reading every search and rescue story on this blog (Hunt for the Death Valley Germans is LONG but awesome), I’ve got West of Memphis ready to watch after work tomorrow because I remembered how much I love that case and spooky true crime things, if you have any related LINKS or STUFF about This Shit then REBLOG THIS/MSG ME AND TELL ME, or if you have a copy of a Missing 411 book you wouldn’t mind mailing to me then LET ME KNOW, and in conclusion I can’t believe America is so fucking huge and unkind, goodnight.