#lack of personal jurisdiction

[ruporas]

soft (and some bittersweet)

[adobe-outdesign]

Nigel: The Muppets' Most Interesting Uninteresting Character

(This was supposed to be a fun little post about an obscure Muppet character but now I fell down a hole doing too much research and sunk cost fallacy won't let me live it down unless I include all of the useless information I've learned so enjoy knowing more about this character than you ever have or ever will want to know)

Nigel was created to be the host of the Muppet Show's Sex and Violence pilot instead of Kermit (who only appears in the pilot for like 30 seconds)

He was originally puppeteered by Jim Henson himself, giving him a vaguely Kermit-esq voice initially

Nigel Voice Count: 1

Nigel is a yellow... something. You’d assume he’s just a stylized human Muppet but in S4E18 Sam refers to him as a “thing”

He actually looks near-identical to a Fraggle minus the tail. I don’t know what to do with this information

Nigel was diagnosed with terminal Boring Personality disease due to the following attributes:

He’s very meek. Unlike Kermit, who will freak out and tell people they suck to their faces, Nigel raises his voice one (1) time and mostly relies on Sam the Eagle and Crazy Harry to deal with the assorted chaos

His face is flexible like Kermit’s, but he has permanently partially-lidded eyes that leave him looking exhausted in every scene he’s in

He’s generally unenthusiastic and seems like he wants to go home constantly

Jim Henson: The Works describes him as "lacking in spunk and charisma," which is hilariously cruel yet 100% accurate

What’s surprising at this point is that instead of scrapping him, he instead took on the role of orchestra conductor on the show proper, where he proceeds to do almost nothing for five seasons

The Muppets Character Encyclopedia actually provides a canon reason for this: Nigel lost the job of host due to his “shy manner”, and Kermit, feeling bad for replacing him, gave him his new job

He can technically be seen in basically every episode during the theme song, but aside from that, he often pops up in the chorus during songs

Which is funny when you consider he should be in the pit Doing His Job during those sequences

A quick list of his more important (if you can even call them that) appearances:

S1E2: He has Zoot play a song called “Sax and Violence” b/c pilot references

It’s actually implied the Mayhem falls under his jurisdiction as he threatens to fire Zoot, but this never comes up again

S1E24: Playing the part of a library patron noisily chewing gum (despite not having teeth. idk you figure it out). This one’s only notable because he’s wearing the same outfit from the pilot

S3E16: Nigel’s eyelids are not connected to the rest of his body and he’s facing backwards through the entire backstage segment so you’re uncomfortably aware of this

S1E23 has Floyd complaining that the theme song is cringe(TM), at which point it’s casually revealed that Nigel wrote it?? how is this character so important and unimportant at the exact same time

If you’ve seen this episode and aren’t deaf you might have noticed he has a completely different voice here. This is because John Lovelady has taken over as his puppeteer, presumably because Jim was busy Running The Entire Show

Nigel Voice Count: 2

Nigel has a talent for whistling, which is shown off in S2E18 during a performance with Floyd (this is the only time he comes on stage to perform that isn’t with a crowd)

He shows this off again in S4E18 to participate in the age-old sport of Annoying Sam the Eagle backstage

As of the 2011 movie Walter takes over as the show’s resident whistler because Nigel isn’t allowed to have character traits

He briefly shows up during the credits of The Muppet Movie (now puppeteered by Dave Goelz). Because of this, in the UK version of the end credits, he has another completely different voice

Nigel Voice Count: 3

After a brief background appearance in The Jim Henson Hour (S1E12), Nigel proceeded to completely disappear for 20 years

I’m guessing the reason was that his puppet was becoming unusable. The foam used for the muppets disintegrates over time, and his puppet was ~15 years old at this point

Things were particularly bleak for him in the 90s because Muppets Tonight came out with a new unrelated TV director character named... Nigel. Because Jim had passed away at this point and I think everyone working on the show literally Forgot they already had a character named that

Not that it would be that big of a problem, seeing as the chances of yellow Nigel returning were bleak. who was gonna spend time and money rebuilding an incredibly minor background character like him

TRICK QUESTION because he was rebuilt for The Muppets (2011), which is pretty amazing when you consider that he does Nothing during this movie

The new puppet looks pretty similar to the old one. I think the face is a bit rounder/more structured but I could also be losing my mind

(Side note: shoutout to whoever decided to give him a scarf in this scene. that’s such an unnecessary detail)

What’s great is that now that the puppet’s been rebuilt he’s shown up in a lot of stuff because they have no reason not to include him. Some of the more notable examples include:

The music video for OK Go’s cover of the theme song (which I certainly hope he would show up in I mean. it’s his song)

In the live shows (The Muppets Take the Bowl and The Muppets Take the O2) there’s a parade of overlooked characters, which includes Nigel. I just find it funny that:

A) The writers fully acknowledge that he’s King of the Background Characters

B) The in-universe implication that Kermit was like “no one knows who you are, wanna be in a parade celebrating that fact” and Nigel was like “okay”

His most recent appearance was in Muppets Haunted Mansion, where he’s dead (don’t worry about it). More importantly, he gets an entire shot to himself conducting some skulls, which I think is the first time the camera’s been focused solely on him in literally 40 years. Good job, buddy!

Here’s some other misc appearances that I couldn’t fit elsewhere:

He appears alongside Jim and a few other Muppets in a 1977 commercial for American Express (once again wearing his pilot outfit), which is particularly strange considering he’s the only character there that used to be puppeteered by Jim

In 2010 he got a somewhat important role in the first issue of Muppet Sherlock Holmes, playing the part of a butler suspected of poisoning the head of the house

He gets one whole page in The Muppets Character Encyclopedia from 2014 (right next to other Nigel). In addition to the aforementioned info bridging the gap between the pilot and the show proper, it also states that he’s susceptible to hypnosis and he trained at the Tommy Newsom Academy for Music and Charisma

In terms of future projects: there is both a Jim Henson biopic and documentary coming in the future (side note: why???), so it’s possible he might be discussed briefly in one of those

I have no thesis statement or reason for writing this, but I guess I’ll close out by saying that I find it fascinating that a failed main character from a pilot episode is still appearing in recent Muppet productions but solely as a background character. I hope that in 2073 I can put on some Muppet media and Nigel will still be there still doing absolutely nothing

thanks for coming to my TED talk

[sweet-honey-fruit]

Hello idk if I'm late but I heard u needed inspo aka smth to write and I was thinkingggggg maybe u could write jelousy headcanons with scaramouche, kazuha, xiao pretty please...

I'm desperate

I’m desperate for it too, don’t worry. I shall provide.

Jealous Genshin Men Headcanons

Genre: fluff, a tad bit of hurt/comfort?

Warnings: possessive behavior but nothing toxic (okay maybe some in scaras but thats just who he is), a tad bit suggestive in Kazuhas

Kazuha

He rarely, and I mean RARELY, ever get jealous. He sees no reason to. He’s confident in himself, in you, and your relationship. Jealousy is a foreign feeling to him

So he was surprised when he felt an irritating amount of annoyance deep within his chest as he saw some guy chatting it up with you

He trusted you. If he trusts you, why is he feeling this way?

Kazuha didn’t realize that he stood up from his seat and started walking towards you when he saw the guy place a hand on your arm. Not until his arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer to his chest. His head nestled into your neck, his eyes narrowing at the guy in front of you that had the nerve to lay his hands on you

He relaxed a little when he felt your hand come up to bury itself in his hair. He put on a plastic smile. His voice was laced with false curiosity, holding a sharp edge to it. “Who’s this my dove?”

The guy seemed taken aback by Kazuhas sudden appearance. Which Kazuha was proud of. But that was quickly stripped away when the guy continued to talk to you. Not just talking to you, flirting with you. And that honestly pissed Kazuha off more. How dare he blatantly flirt with you in front of him, the person who is obviously your lover?

It doesn’t help that you’re just finding the situation amusing. Glancing between the guy and the anemo user. You hear him let out an annoyed huff into your ear.

“So, I was thinking….you, me, dinner at five this weekend? I mean, you’re just really cute and funny-“

Your eyes widen when you felt Kazuha nip at your pulse point, kissing up the side of your neck, along your jawline, before forcing your head to turn to kiss you on the lips.

It seemed innocent at first until you tried to pull away. His hand entangled itself into the back of your head, keeping you still and stuck in place. Each second his kiss got longer, rougher, and damn near proprietary. Your hands clenched onto his chest, letting out a small whimper from the lack of oxygen, feeling your lungs burn with the need for it

The whole time Kazuha’s eyes were half-lidded, glaring at the guy who was now growing uncomfortable the longer it went on

He only stopped when the guy awkwardly walked away from the two of you

A smirk landed on his face as he saw you panting heavily, feeling your skin heat up under his touch

It was after you caught your breath that you laughed, cupping his face with your gentle hand, “I was waiting to see how long it would take you to do something Kazu. It was fairly entertaining.”

He only let out a breathy chuckle, his hand overlapping with yours. He leaned in, lips brushing against your own as he talked, “I’m not done yet dove. I’ll show you just how much you belong to me,”

His words surprised him more than you, but the look on your face was worth it. He gave you a quick peck on the lips before leading you back to your room on the ship

Scaramouche

Unlike Kazuha, this man gets jealous constantly. All the time. 24/7. His abandonment issues come into play every time you look at someone.

Nevertheless, he’s learned to get a handle on it. He wants you two to last, and he knows that his jealousy is his problem to deal with. The last thing he wants is to make your relationship toxic and unhealthy. In full honesty, he’s been handling it well. He’s even been feeling less jealous as of late.

Hence why he was genuinely surprised when he felt the all too familiar feeling crawling up his skin and into his anger issues.

All because a fatui agent, under his jurisdiction to add salt to the wound, was flirting with you.

So maybe it was justified. Maybe it was rational. Perhaps, maybe, it was worth striking him with a blast of electro and sending him flying into the wall, knocking him out cold.

You stood there, baffled. You didn’t know if you should be scared and concerned for the possibly dead agent a few feet away from you. Or, if you should laugh because of how nonchalant your boyfriend was standing after striking down a person for flirting with you.

You decided on being concerned now and laugh later. You rushed over to the agent, kneeling beside him to look for any sign of life, scolding Scara, “Was that necessary babe?”

He let out a strained ‘tch’ before walking towards you, his jealousy only being fueled by your concern for, who in his eyes, was nothing but scum at the bottom of his shoe. “He’s fine. His chest is moving. He’s lucky I didn’t kill him for flirting with you like that. An agent, that works for me, having the nerve to flirt with the person that I make very clear is dating me, deserves to be six feet under.”

“I think that’s a little excessive but you know what? I love your spirit,” You stand up once you confirm that the agent was indeed breathing. Before you had the chance to do anything else, Scaramouche was snatching your wrist into his hand, forcing you to be dragged behind him as he speed-walks down the corridor. It’s tight, effectively keeping you trapped. But the way his thumb glides across your skin makes you relax and smile a bit, allowing him to take you wherever he wishes.

“Where are we going?”

“I have a check up with Dottore. You’re coming with me.”

“Oh cool. Is he going to fix your anger issues?”

“Please. He can barely fix his own.”

Xiao

He lies somewhere between Kazuha and Scaramouche on the jealousy scale.

He’s not jealous of any ‘mortals’. He finds that it’s useless to be jealous of someone that has little significance to you.

The Adeptus has gotten jealous of Zhongli a couple of times. Mostly when you were working under him at the funeral parlor and spent all your time there.

It only made him angry at himself for being jealous of someone he owes his existence to.

But Zhongli just found it amusing and reassured him that feelings of jealousy here and there were normal.

That was the only time Xiao recalls being truly jealous of a living being.

So he’s standing in the corner of your shared room, staring in wonder as to why…he’s jealous at a stack of paper.

A stack of paper that has all of your undivided attention. You haven’t even spared him a glance since he appeared. Only throwing him a haphazard “hello” before going back to your work.

His jealousy is also mixed with concern for your health cause two hours of nonstop work has to be unhealthy for you.

His footsteps were nonexistent as he made his way over to your hunched-over form. His eyes scanned over you. Tense muscles, quick and sloppy handwriting, fidgeting leg. All signs of stress and exhaustion.

Xiao stood next to you, putting a hand on your wrist to stop you from writing. His jealousy surged when you still didn’t glance at him, only scanning over your words so far before speaking weakly, “Let go please, I need to get this report in by tomorrow,”

“No. Stop. I think it’s time you took a break.” He was short and straight to the point like always.

“Xiao, this paper needs-“

He huffed, his voice sounding pushed to the limit, “Enough about the idiotic paper already.”

For the first time since he’s arrived, your eyes met his. But it wasn’t with love or admiration like they usually are. No, it was amusement.

“Are you-…Are you jealous of my paperwork?”

The laugh that followed was both heaven and hell to his ears. His cheeks were tinted a light pink at your correct observation. He didn’t make a move to deny that yes, he was jealous you were putting more time into some stupid papers than with him.

His hands only held onto yours as you were still snickering, “Just- just come to bed!”

[fatehbaz]

Didn't wanna clog up your post, and these sources are more about relationships of time with space/place, but here's some stuff that I've encountered:

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“Temporal sovereignty”. Contemporary US/Australian claims over time-keeping. Reclaiming agency by operating on Indigenous/alternative time schedules. The importance of the “time revolution” in the Victorian era to Euro-American understandings of geology and deep past, precipitating nineteenth-century conquest of time. Mid-twentieth century understanding of “deep time” and its co-option by the Australian state. "Deep time dreaming".

Laura Rademaker. “60,000 Years is not forever: ‘time revolutions’ and Indigenous pasts.” Postcolonial Studies. September 2021.

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How "time is a form of enclosure". Checkpoints, "baroque processes to apply for permits to travel", fences, incapacity to change residences, and other "debilitating infrastructures" work to "turn able bodies into a range of disabled bodies" by "stretching time". This is a "slow death" and a simultaneous "slowing down of life" because "it takes so long to get anywhere" and "movement is suffocated". Thus "time itself is held hostage". This "suspended state" of anxiety and endless wait-times "wreaks multigenerational psychological and physical havoc". "Checkpoints ensure one is never sure of reaching work on time. Fear of not getting to work then adds to the labor of getting to work [...]. Bodies in line at checkpoints [...] [experience] the fractalizing of the emotive, cognitive, physiological capacities" through a "constant state of uncertainty". "The cordoning of time through space contributes to an overall 'lack of jurisdiction over the functions of one's own senses' [...] endemic to the operation of colonial rule". This "extraction of time" produces a "depleted" and tired person "beholden to the logistics" of administrative apparatuses, community suffers and "communing is thrawted".

Jabir K. Puar. "Spatial debilities: Slow Life and Carceral Capitalism [...]." South Atlantic Quarterly 120. April 2021.

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The "apocalyptic temporality" that presumes extinction. Indigenous Polynesian/Pacific perceptions and ways of being "destabilize the colonial present" and also "transfigure the past" by "contesting linear and teleological Western time". Indigenous "ontologies of cyclical temporality or inhabitation of heterogenous time". How United States and Europe colonized Oceania for weapons testing and conquest of tropical Edens while rendering local Indigenous people "ungrievable" and "without future". "Pacific time is a layering of oral and somatic memory". Instead of accepting an apocalyptic future or doomsday or nightmare, assert the possibility of a livable future, in spite of "Western temporal closures".

Rebecca Oh. “Making Time: Pacific Futures in Kiribati’s Migration with Dignity, Kathy Jetnil-Kijiner’s Iep Jaltok, and Keri Hume’s Stonefish.” MFS Modern Fiction Studies. Winter 2020.

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Colonial "space-time homogenization". The experience of "homogenous, empty time". Orientalist "time lag" and the naturalization of a supposed East-West hemispheric divide. Late Victorian imperial conceptions of temporality. The British establishment of the Greenwich meridian and International Date Line. The influence of British imperial seafaring and cartography on the establishment of time and on European/US feelings towards the Pacific Ocean. How the origin of English science fiction literature, space travel aspirations, and time travel narratives coincided with the Yellow Peril and xenophobia targeting East Asia.

Timothy J. Yamamura. "Fictions of Science, American Orientalism, and the Alien/Asian of Percival Lowell". Dis-Orienting Planets: Racial Representation of Asia in Science Fiction. 2017.

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Imprisonment as time-control. Here “the question of the past the present and the future indeed time itself looms” especially around the prisoner. “The law renders punishment in units of time”, taking away a the right to a future. There are alternative worlds, many of them, which have been practiced and brought into being, which colonization tried to obscure. There is “a whole anthropology of people without future embedded in the assumptions that justify mass imprisonment as poverty management”. "The prison’s logic exterminates time as we know it”. In prison, bodies have been alienated from time and history ... the punishment seems endless ... to “achieve a measure of agency and possibility it is necessary to redeem time”, to refuse the doom, fated to a life of abandonment.

Avery Gordon. “Some Thoughts on Haunting and Futurity.” borderlands. 2011.

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Bursting the Limits of Time: The Reconstruction of Geohistory in the Age of Revolution (Martin J.S. Rudwick, 2010) explores how the advent of European sciences like geology, preceding the "time revolution" when Europeans experienced revelations about the scale of "deep time", happened alongside and after the Haitian Revolution and other abolitionist movements. French, German, and British naturalists translated the explosion of "new" scientific knowledge from the colonies, so that the metropolitan European audience became a market for historical and scientific "narratives" about how "nature" and time functioned.

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Prartik Chakrabarti's writing on time, temporality, and "the deep past" as British imperial concepts built in conversation with colonial encounters with South Asia. (British Empire reaching such heights in the middle of the nineteenth century at the same time that the newly professionalized sciences of geology were providing revelations about the previously unknown vast scale of "deep time". New colonial anthropology/ethnology also presumed to connect this "primitive" past with "primitive" people.)

See Chakrabarti's "Gondwana and the Politics of Deep Past". Past & Present. 2019.

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We must witness and consider "multiple space-times" to understand how "unfree labour" of plantations was "foundational" to contemporary work, movement, subjugation, health, etc. We must "trace the geneaology of contemporary sovereign institutions of terror, discipline and segregation" [workplaces, imperial/colonial nations, factories, mines, etc.] back in time to plantations. How "the [plantation] estate hierarchy survives in post-plantation" times and places, with the plantation "being a major blueprint of socialization into [contemporary] work". The plantation was "a laboratory for [...] migration regulation in subsequent epochs" that practiced methods of racializing and criminalizing.

Irene Peano, Marta Macedo, and Colette Le Petitcorps. "Introduction: Viewing Plantations at the Intersection of Political Ecologies and Multiple Space-Times". Global Plantations in the Modern World: Sovereignties, Ecologies, Afterlives. 2023.

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“Slow life” and the relationship between “settler colonialism, carceral capitalism, and the modulation of ... registers of time,” including “historical time, the stealing of time through the expansion of labor time, ... and the cordoning off of space through time”. For example, as in occupied zones or at border checkpoints, “the cordoning off of space through time” includes physical architecture like fences and customs, obstacles that impede movement and rhythm, so that “nothing ever happens on time” and there is “a stretching of time”. All the wasted time spent in line, showing papers, waiting for confirmation, etc. “is not a by-product of surveillance, it is the point of surveillance”. Such that “uncertainty becomes a primary affective orientation ... flesh as felt” with a racializing effect“. "This is a biopolitics conditioned through pure capacitation and its metrics”:

Jasbir Puar. In: “Mass Debilitation and Algorithmic Governance” by Ezekiel Dixon-Roman and Jasbir Puar. e-flux Journal Issue #123. December 2021.

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"Starfish time". Indigenous Australian/Aboriginal perceptions of time and "attending to more-than-human agencies of time". Acknowledging the timescales of entire ecosystems, as part of multispecies relationships, a "transcorporeal collaboration". Cyclical time vs linear time. Contrasting timescales experienced by insects that only live a few days and creatures that live for decades. "Starfish may seem to be still" but they slowly move; "larval time" and "the time it takes for eggs to develop and hatch"'. The "immensity of the alterity is literally incomprehensible"; "we can't know what these beings know" but we "should seek respect and be aware of how our lives are entangled".

Bawaka Country including, S. Wright, S.  Suchet-Pearson, K. Lloyd, L. Burarrwanga, R. Ganambarr, M. Ganambarr-Stubbs, B. Ganambarr, D. Maymuru. “Gathering of the Clouds: Attending to Indigenous understandings of time and climate through songspirals.” Geoforum. January 2020.

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The use of calendars, dates, clocks, and industrial/corporate temporality as fundamental to the rise of plantations and financialization in United States/Europe, with a case study of the modern Colombian/Latin American state. Observance of certain dates and strict adherence to specific calendars support "mythologized deeds and heroic retellings" of colonization and industrialization. “The evolution and internalization of disciplined concepts of time” were intimately tied to the rise of wage labor in industrializing England and later during the global ascendancy of work and industrialized plantation monoculture, but the persistence of alternative time should “serve as a reminder that futures and the demarcation of epochs are never as simple as a neatly organized calendar”.

Timothy Lorek. “Keeping Time with Colombian Plantation Calendars.” Edge Effects. April 2020.

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Indigenous people of Alaska and the US control over time management. For the past 50 years, Yupiak people have been subject to US government’s “investment in a certain way of being in time” which “standardized the clock” and disrupted human relationships with salmon. This US management model “anonymized care” and made “a way of attending to the life and death of others that strips life of the social and ecological bonds that imbue it” with resilience and meaning, which “ignores not only the temporality of Yupiaq peoples relations with fish, but also the human relations that human-fish relations make possible”. This disregards “the continuity of salmon lives but also the duration of Yupiat lifeworlds ... life is doubly negated” ... “futures depend on an orientation to salmon in the present”.

William Voinot-Baron. “Inescapable Temporalities: Chinook Salmon and the Non-Sovereignty of Co-Management in Southwest Alaska.” July 2019.

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"Idling" and "being idle" as a form of reclaiming agency and life. Case studies of fugitive Blackness in Caribbean plantation societies. “Disruptive waiting”. “The maroon’s relationship to time challenges [both] the totalizing time of the modern state, but also the [...] narratives to negotiate struggle in the [...] present" in "antagonistic relationship with colonial power". Defying the “European narrative of modernity”. Refusing to be productive.

Amanda Lagji. “Marooned time: disruptive waiting and idleness in Carpentier and Coetzee.” Safundi: The Journal of South African and American Studies. March 2018.

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Indigenous futures. "It is important to remember that some futures never went anywhere" and "yet they survive. These are futures suppressed and cancelled by colonial power." These are "parallel futures". "Colonial power must control the past so as to deny the emergence of" an alternative future; "colonial power creates a future in advance so that no others will take its place". Poor, racialized, Black, Indigenous people manifest alternative futures.

Pedro Neves Marques. "Parallel Futures: One or Many Dystopias?" e-flux. April 2019.

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The "legacy of slavery and the labor of the unfree shape and are part of the environment we inhabit". The "idea of the plantation is migratory" and it lives on "as the persistent blueprint of our contemporary spatial troubles", so we must seek out "secretive histories" that no longer "rehearse lifelessness".

Katherine McKittrick. “Plantation Futures.” Small Axe. 2013.

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“The temporal dispossession” of Congolese people. There is an “impossibility” of “predictable time” because temporal dispossession “disrupts the possibility of building a future”. Livelihoods/income is driven by market and price fluctuations in United States and Europe tech industries, so “there is an inescapable day-to-day sense of uncertainty”. As Mbembe says, “in Africa, the spread of terror ... blows apart temporal frames”.

James H. Smith. ‘Tantalus in the Digital Age: Coltan ore, temporal dispossession, and “movement” in the Eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo.’ American Ethnologist Volume 38 Issue 1. February 2011.

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“Slow death”. Chronic illness not just as a byproduct of colonialism/dispossession, but also as part of its aim, a weapon that debilitates people, who become exhausted. Dooming poor and racialized people to lives “without future” through debility, “a condition of being worn out”. Relationship of illness, lack of healthcare, and debt as functionally incapacitating, a form of death sentence. A “zone of temporality” unfolding unlike abrupt/sudden traumatic events and becoming an inescapable condition.

Jasbir K. Puar. The Right to Maim: Debility, Capacity, Disability. 2017.

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The extension of poverty, landlessness, homeless, and imprisonment. "To be unable to transcend the horror of such a world order is what hell means", and "without a glimpse of an elsewhere or otherwise, we are living in hell". The utopian is not only or merely a “fantasy of” and for “the future collectivity” but can be claimed and built and lived here, now. There is "no guarantee" of “coming millenniums or historically inevitable socialisms”, no guarantee that “the time is right” one day if we wait just long enough. Instead: "can a past that the present has not yet caught up with be summoned to haunt the present as an alternative?" The "utopian margins", an alternate world crossing time and place, an "imaginative space and temporality to trace the remains of what "was almost or not quite, of the future yet to come", living as if it were the present. Colonialism tried to crush the many headed hydra of the revolutionary Atlantic, those who challenged the making of the modern world system.

Avery F. Gordon. As interviewed by Brenna Bhandar and  Rafeef Ziadah. “Revolutionary Feminisms: Avery F. Gordon.” As transcribed and published online in the Blog section of Verso Books. 2 September 2020. And: Avery Gordon. “Some thoughts on the Utopian.” 2016.

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The US/European "city is the site of regulatory regimes" that try to impose a definitive narrative about history, progress, and possible futures. But it cannot achieve "a wholly Apollonian, seamlessly regulated realm" because the land "continues to be haunted by the neglected, the disposed of, the repressed". The "commodification" of landscapes "circulates an imaginary geography" mediated through advertisements, labels, soap operas, television, etc. which celebrate "sanctioned narratives and institutionalized rhetoric". A "wild zone" of informal spaces, debris. "Ruins are places where the things, people, and "other memories can be articulated". There is "a spectral residue" that "haunts dominant ways of seeing and being". "Alternative stories might be assembled", so that we can respect the people banished to abandonment, the periphery, and reclaim agency.

Tim Edensor. “The ghosts of industrial ruins: ordering and disordering memory in excessive space.” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space volume 23. 2005.

Also, how "master narratives of history as progress decompose" when faced with "a continuously remembered past" when "the ghosts of this past rear up in the ruin" to expose "the debris of unprecedented material destruction" of colonialism/empire-building. These "hauntings rupture linear temporality" and recall those people beaten down as "the trash of history". It is "essential to see the things and the people [...] banished to the periphery [...]."

Tim Edensor. "Haunting in the ruins: matter and immateriality". Space and Culture Issue 11. 2002.

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"Many kinds of time" of bacteria, fungi, algae, humans, and "Western colonialism meet on the gravestones". Some creatures, like lichen, are very long-lived and "these temporal feats alert us that modernity is not the only kind of time, and that our metronomic synchrony is not the only time that matters". The "long duree evolutionary rapprochements to the quick boom and bust of investment capital" where "minor forms of space and time merge with great ones". Extinction is "a breakdown of coordinations with reverberating effects". Ghosts remind us that we live in an impossible present, a time of rupture. "Deep histories tumble in unruly graves that are bulldozed into gardens of Progress". "Endings come with the death of a leaf, the death of a city, the death of a friendship".

Elaine  Gan, Anna Tsing, Heather Swanson, and Nils Burbandt. “Introduction: Haunted Landscapes of the Anthropocene.” Arts of Living on a Damaged Planet: Ghosts and Monsters of the Anthropocene. 2017.

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Everywhen: Australia and the Language of Deep History. (Edited by Ann McGrath, Laura Rademaker, and Jakelin Troy. 2023.)

Chapters include: "Bugarrigarra Nyurdany, Because of the Dreaming: A Discussion of Time and Place in Yawuru Cosmology" (Sarah Yu et al.); "Songs and the Deep Present" (Linda Barwick); "Yirriyengburnama-langwa mamawura-langwa: Talking about Time in Anindilyakwa (James Bednall); "Across 'Koori Time' and Space (John Maynard)

[ot3]

can i please hear your thoughts about franema. blease. i know they have something going on between them

oh yes yes.... franema happy to talk about it. for starters just everything about how ema behaves herself in aa4 makes me believe that would be some excellent yuri because bitch4bitch femslash is always so important.

in general though i think they're two people whose lives are very centered around their work (as much of the main ace attorney cast is) but they center their work extremely differently in a way i think would cause the other person to question a lot about their own perspective. I think a situation where two characters can really ruffle each others feathers just by existing in proximity has a lot of good ship fodder.

i think in many ways franziska is what ema wanted to be. she's a child prodigy, competent and excelling in her field and earning respect from a very young age. meanwhile when she's several years older than fran was passing the bar ema is still just a high school student just dipping her nose into forensic science for the first time. by the time she's in her mid 20s ema still isn't at the level of career success fran reached in her teen years, being stuck as a detective after failures to pass the forensics exams. and i think it's really worth paying attention to the fact that Detective was specifically the job that lead to her sister's life turning to shit, so i think the longer and longer she stays trapped in that position the more she's gonna start feeling like the walls of her life are closing in on her. i know we don't know where fran is at career wise during this point in the timeline but my personal headcanon is that she ends up doing a lot of work with interprol and primarily specializing in prosecuting cases that take place across various countries' jurisdictions, and has had good success doing so.

Then on the flipside I think Fran see's ema's fully self-motivated passion for forensics as something enviable and admirable. Fran is i think someone who has spent her entire life running through a treadmill of carrots and sticks that dictated what her life was going to be like since she was born. Obviously prosecuting is the family trade and she was started extremely young, then pitted against someone much older for the majority of her childhood. I think the ebb and flow of validation or disinterest from her peers and family was such an overwhelming motivator that she never had the chance to even consider whether or not there's anything she's passionate about. As an adult, i think she does come to find an honest passion in her career but it's nothing like what ema has, it can't be decoupled from external validation, and that's something she's come to understand as a bit of a weakness.

Then interpersonally i feel like since ema is much more personable and socially adjusted than fran, i could feel that being something she instinctively kind of leverages against fran to try and level their playing field. like, okay, franziska may be this bigshot famous prosecutor (just like edgeworth, who ema wants sooo bad to impress) but ema can find ways to embarrass, frustrate, or otherwise fluster her in social settings so that's totally the same as being intellectual equals right. right. right. (<- thoughts of a girl who is definitely being normal about the situation). but i feel like fran could kind of learn to be grateful for the lack of deference ema treats her with and it could be a real first step to them actually getting to know each other better.

i feel like they'd have a lot of similar opinions on the broader aspects of life. i think they'd both be fine with a more casual relationship that involves a lot of traveling for work and isn't particularly romantic by a lot of people's standards. and i think it would be fun for them to fuck each other. overall it just works imo. thank you for coming to my ted talk.

[voidsentprinces]

Azem: Look...I'm JUST saying! Emet-Selch: Yes, I UNDERSTAND you're "JUST SAYING" but we have more PRESSING MATTERS to attend to! Azem: This is far more important. Emet-Selch: It most certainly is fucking NOT! Hythlodaeus: What is going on? Emet-Selch: Azem discovered a bunch of warrior lizard people in the middle of a plainland and now because they broke the Prime Directive. They are worshiping by them as some sort of Creationist God. I, believe the next step is to report to Convocation. Azem: And I believe, we need to settle who the best Powerpuff Girl is. Emet-Selch: I have already told you that it is BLOSSOM! She has the brain! She has the leadership! And she still has the brawn to toss around the baddie of the week while being restrained! As the mind of the operation, the trio would wander aimless without regard. Elidibus: In times of turmoil, it falls once again to the Emissary to mediate such affairs. Emet-Selch: JESUS FUCKING CHRIST ON A BICYCLE! Don't just appear out of nowhere! Elidibus: I know not who this Jesus person is nor why he is committing adultry with a secondary on a bicycle but I make no promises. Now then, if Emet-Selch is so set on Blossom. We shall now open the room for other opinions on the matter. Igeyohrm: Personally, I have been of the mind that Buttercup is the best. But I am sure there are fools who would disagree. Lahabrea: I must agree with my cousin, Buttercup can kick ass and look cool doing it. Without her, the trio would lack decisive action and would be too restrained in the path forward. Hythlodaeus: Personally, I have been a fan Bubbles. She is kind hearted, speaks several languages, as well as speak with all manner of animals and creatures of the land. She is the soul of the group. Without her, Blossom and Buttercup would be at a lost when times are tougher and the world is unfairer towards them. Loghrif: Her speaking with animals also allows her utilize scouting parties and get a lay of the land quicker for when the trio is operating outside their normal jurisdiction. Lahabrea: You are mistaken whom would have time to rely on such an emotional crybaby? Elidibus: Enough, we have two for Buttercup, two for Bubbles, a single vote from Emet-Selch for Blossom. We must now hear upon which Azem has decided to either make or break the decision. Azem: ...personally I thought Mojo Jojo was best gi-- Emet-Selch: OH HERE WE FUCKING GO! Hythlodaeus: LET US LISTEN TO THE SHEPHERDS R-- Lahabrea: TO HELL WITH THEIR REASONINING! Elidibus: Venat, we might require your experti-- Venat: Professor Utonium. Elidibus: ...so about this lizard person religion. Azem: Hades is just mad I now have an entire Steppe named after me. Emet-Selch: I am mad that you almost got me killed by a tribe chieftain. Azem: She just wanted a friendly chat. Emet-Selch: She survived several meteorite spells to the FACE! Azem: Hehehyeah, the Dotharl are great.

[metamatar]

To an extent, certainly, Proudhon was just articulating the view of woman’s subordination that was prevalent in mid-nineteenth century. If that were all, he would not be interesting. The fact is that this “libertarian” went far beyond even the most conservative versions than current on the place of women.

[...] In method he differed in no way from any of the contemporaneous deep thinkers [...] Men = strength; hence force, ability, and all associated virtues. Women = beauty and grace at the best, and nothing else but baby machines and unpaid servitors. He did not even give a nod to a conception that was already commonplace among socialists: that women were driven to prostitution not by their “female” natures but by social conditions.

Proudhon himself understood that his anti-feminist views were more reactionary than even the upholders of the status quo – reactionary in the literal sense of wishing to return to a more patriarchal past. Public opinion and government had to be convinced, he proclaimed, “that the father of the family should be re-established [sic] in his domestic jurisdiction, honors and authority.” A propaganda campaign was needed against the current degenerate state of affairs, “against the licentiousness of young people and feminine rebelliousness.” Women “have nothing to gain by education.” [...]

“Back to patriarchy!” was the banner he raised himself. “It is to a new patriarchate that I would like to invite all men,” he wrote. [...] we get one clue to the connection between his antifeminism and his anarchist standpoint, that is, his blind resentment against the organization of modern society and a longing to return to the small-unit society of the past, where a patriarch could rule. [...] He quite consciously linked the peasant’s concern for preserving seed with the “virile” man’s need to retain his seed in order to conserve strength and intellect. Women, eunuchs and children were inferior because they lacked this conservation of the “seed.”

[…] a gemlike formulation: “A woman does not at all hate being used with violence, indeed even being violated.” Whether “by reason or force,” a woman has to be bent and broken to the master’s will. “If the woman resists you to your face, it is necessary to beat her down at any cost.”

Even to the power of life and death: violence in dominating the woman is not to be limited. Proudhon demanded that society return to the Patriarchal Law. [...] In Proudhon’s case, the atomic individual was the individual family, which was the only natural unit of the species. Proudhon’s need for patriarchalism was not simply a personal aberration. The family was the only meaningful unit of society, and the family was necessarily an autocracy: this was the crux of Proudhon’s view of the world.

Women and Class, Hal Draper

[00127am]

signed with love and forever yours, renjun

postage. huang renjun & gn! reader, implied enemies (pride and prejudice coded), mentions of kissing cost to ship. 834 words

the day after you told me you loved me, i felt as if i've been blind my whole life. as if, after your confession, rose colored glasses had slipped upon my eyes to permanently rest on the bridge of my nose. to paint everything in sight with such a vibrance, vitality, that i swear i had never seen it before. though the doctors will say i have never been blind nor colorblind, that i have been able to see everything to the full extent of the human capacity, i will attest that it was you who granted me the ability of sight for the first time.

even before your concession, i found you in everything. hiding between the pages of my favorite books, seeping into every shade of my paints, infiltrating and consuming every corner and nook in my brain and body so that there was no place in which you were unable to execute the jurisdiction of your dictatorship. it's something so utterly irritating that it drove me up the wall and then some, convinced this was one of your numerous ways to get underneath my skin.

perhaps if i stopped to think, to consider why you seemed to be drowning out every other aspect of my life--leaving only thoughts, dreams, and fantasies of you behind in your wake--why you are able to slip underneath my skin and weave such a tender waltz through the strings of my heart--then i would have written this letter much sooner. certainly before your own proclamation.

i am sure now that i have never experienced love or any such iteration of infatuation towards anyone other than you. a feeling so utterly foreign and inordinate that it feels bittersweet on my tongue. scraped off with a drag of my teeth and a reluctant reciprocation stuck in the back of my throat. an ardent admission that i'm afraid you would find to be more bitter than sweet.

i'm not good with my words. and i'm not good with you. so it's only fitting that it's this letter that will return my the full effect of my affections back to whom they belong as i muster up any semblance of courage to speak them out loud. so in the meantime, read this as many times as it takes before i tell you in person. so that perhaps you can meet my confession with a kiss and i'll be rewarded for each and every humiliating detail written in record for you to keep (though even if you held them over my head, i find myself unable to even care--so endeared to everything you do, a degree of which makes me grit my teeth).

i love you and love you more. more than any words written here can express and much more than i'd care to admit. so wait for me and my confession in hopes that i'll be able to properly express just how much i love you. a love that gifted sight and a weight on my chest that proves to be much more fatal than any ailment of the heart.

forever (and unwillingly) yours,

about renjun's love letters.

renjun's handwriting is messy and sharp, every word pressed deep into the paper. written with such strong emotions (of both love and vexation) and in what seems to be such a hurry to spit the words out onto the page that he nearly ruins the letter in the process. every consonant and vowel is written in a way that can only be described as raw, unfiltered and rushed. straight from his heart to yours, sometimes with an attempt for a roundabout omission--one which does nothing to hide the full extent of his adoration.

he writes on crumpled, tattered paper. with holes and scratched out words, flowing into scratched out lines, sometimes paragraphs. often unreadable, you tease, but in truth perhaps you enjoy reading them over and over and over again until even the words laying dormant beneath scrawled, etched scribbles feel as if they've been carved into your flesh--all with the excuse of legibility.

to others, the state of his letters may appear as a lack of care. for what lover sends you their affections that look as if they have been to hell and back, pages that seem to hold niceties beneath crass adjectives and loathing sentiments. only to be found through wrinkled lines and harshly illustrated remarks. but these roughened letters are slipped within perfectly creased envelopes, sealed with a kiss (covered by a thin strip of tape), and covered with the numerous efforts of his artistic handiwork. there's a care for them to get to you safely. a care for you to read what he truly has to say, his unadulterated feelings (unconsumed by trivial allegories of love) that are poured out through every messy line of prose. even if his letters are signed with a reminder that every bit of his love towards you is unintended (and yet, he would never trade it for any fortune or feeling in the world).

your mailbox

taglist. @evilsailorsenshi @222brainrot @sour-chaos @jenaisnte thank you for supporting me! ♡

🧾 © 00127am 2024

[celaenaeiln]

Can I ask for your opinion about Kon's relationship with Dick?

People normally think about Tim and Kon when I ask their opinion about Robin and Super Boy

Maybe because I got introduced to Kon(then Conner) thru Young Justice, but when I hear it, its always been Dick and Conner

But I can see why they only think about Tim and Kon, because of the comics and all. Hell I'm not even sure if Kon and Conner have the same backstory, so I'm very confused

It's just, nobody talks about their relationship, like at all, and I get so curious the more I see Dicks interactions with the other supers in the kent family, and then I compare that to the lack of content about Kon and Dick regarding their relationship

oh man I get so confused with Young Justice tv show vs comics. It's insane the overlap. I saw Kaldur in Teen Titans (2016) with Damian and felt so bewildered why Dick and Kaldur didn't know each other before I realized - different universes. It's still weird and offsetting every time I see Kaldur though. Same with M'gann in Titans (2016) comic.

I really enjoyed Dick and Connor dynamic in Young Justice. The dynamic though! The cackling little maniac who's half his height is somehow the saviour of the most stoic man with some of the biggest daddy issues with the nicest man on earth.

In the comics, Conner kinda hero-worships/is a little intimidated by Dick

Teen Titans (2003) Issue #33

"I feel like I'm hanging out with my best friend's brother...and I can't say or do anything right."

Teen Titans (2003) Issue #33

The other time in the comics, Dick shows up with the Titans because someone's Conner trying to calm down has become a big problem for civilian safety.

They have a confrontation where Dick wants to take them down but Conner thinks she can still be saved.

Superboy (1994) Issue #81

It's always interesting for me to read Nightwing in younger heroes comics because of the way he's written. Like here for instance, he effectively took control and deescalated the situation but it's from Kon's point of view so it also feels like Dick is taking over Kon's jurisdiction. Yet at the end, the way the scene progresses, this feels good. The way Nightwing is seen through Kon's eyes is like an untouchable figure who's just so good at everything and in control of stuff. Yet this moment, there's a softer quality to him than when he came in, giving the sense that Kon has earned Nightwing's respect, the respect of someone he views untouchable. And that's a good feeling. The subtlety in this was great.

So I feel like you can go two way with Kon and Dick. The first is the Young Justice way where they're sort of the same age vibe.

I miss this dynamic!

The second is the comic way where he hero worships Dick (as everyone does). I don't like how they don't have a lot of interactions together given how close Dick is with the Superfam. But also Kon and Clark don't get along that well either so I guess it makes sense that Kon wouldn't be around Dick as much simply by way of missed opportunities. There should still be a lot more though.

Personally, I love Conner and Dick. They fight but they respect each other and they treat each other on equal terms. They're fun!

[dasher85]

Rain

He theoretically understand the concept of love

Neuvillette x Reader | y/n | you

short story

Part 1 | Part 2

sad theme (supposedly)

[ and all that I want is to finally be honest ]

-----------------

"Have you ever thought about how the world perceived itself?"

That same question has been haunting Neuvilette's mind for a while now. He couldn't find the answer to it. At least a perfect response to the person who has spoken of such a question. 

The truth is, the question itself wasn't the only thing that lingers in his mind. If it was just a question he would've already thought of an answer within at least a few days and yet that wasn't the case for his heart was devastatingly shattered by the next thing that came after.

"...or how did I perceive you?" 

Words you've said. What was so meaningful about it? He has heard a billion excuses and pleas in the high court and yet he couldn't easily let go of this. He was hurt but he didn't know how to admit it. You didn't give him a chance to realise anything or at least let him think of an answer. 

'What was it again? The cause of it all?'. He questions himself as he recalled that day when he was left alone and his cheeks were damp not even because of the rain. 

He stood up and picked up the stack of files on his desk. Important cases, criminal's identity and the jurisdiction records. Time does seem to fly in his office space but even after all this time his soul has been stuck in that same place.

'What could've happened if I had the correct answer right then and there?'. His mind has been occupied despite being monotonously unexpressive. He sighed as he arranged all the files accordingly based on alphabetical order into the shelves.

He doesn't know it either. He wasn't human to begin with so it's understandable if he lacks in these situations and yet he blamed himself for it.

Neuvilette returns to his seat and for a brief moment he stares back towards the front door. As if expecting someone to enter the door but of course no one did.

The weather outside hasn't stopped raining for a while now. The gloominess inside his office and the grey sky outside reflects his beating heart.

He then resumes to write down a record for today's court report. Just like any other day, he was busy. He used to feel obligated to do all these things because it was only natural for someone who holds the position as the Chief Justice.

"Neuvilette, how about a cup of coffee…". He snaps his head up and unexpectedly it was just his imagination. A soft melodic voice that has been ingrained in his mind. His expression unchanged but he felt disappointed because it was all a mere fraction of his memory.

'Why did I even say that?'. Neuvilette finally remembered or actually he finally realised his actions. It was all because of him. It wasn't anything harsh but he was just trying to be considerate. He didn't want to trouble anyone, especially you but why did things turn out this way? 

It's true that he can focus with work and that things are a lot more progressive without distraction but why does he feel uncharacteristically empty? He didn't understand it either but somehow this feeling was more overwhelming than the times when a trial was over.

'What was it that I really wanted?'. He thought while exhaling heavily. His mind and his actions are purely contradictory with each other. He needs an answer, he needs a break and he needs to collect his thoughts but his work is important too. 

"Where have you been?"

--------------------

You smiled softly at the nice smell of sweetness coming from the warm hot chocolate drink. The ceramic mug held in between your hands.

It's been raining outside ever since you stopped working for the court. So, the temperature is a little cold and having something warm was a really good decision.

Life has been quite peaceful without headaches or unnecessary expectations. At least that's what you thought about your previous ordeal.

You shook your head sideways profusely to remove the thoughts about those days. It was so childish and immature to expect anything more than working your job diligently. You should've stayed professional and not get caught into a one sided love. It was all too embarrassing when you think about it now.

'It's alright… My feelings won't harm anyone and I know there's always someone who'll be better for me'. 

You nodded reassuringly to yourself as you slowly drank the sweet hot chocolate. Just the right amount to dissipate your lingering feelings. If time is forgiving, in just a few months you'll eventually learn to accept things as they are. As long as you keep yourself away from the court or that specific individual, your heart would surely mend itself.

The slight ambience from the coffee shop was quite calming as you calmly gazed through the clear glass window outside.

"Y/n… you're here". His deep voice was calm and yet a hint of excitement was evident as he spoke over your head.

You snapped your head towards the source who has called your name without notice. In that instant, you felt like your stomach dropped into a bottomless pit and a mix of overwhelming feelings returned into your heart.

Your once calm expression twisted into one that of pain and sadness. Out of all people, your heart is unprepared to meet him again. Not yet. Not when you're trying to forget about him. Not when you're trying to move on. Why did it have to be him?

He stood there with a small smile appearing on his lips but upon meeting your gaze, his smile slowly disappeared. 

Neuvilette knew his presence wasn't how it used to be. It's true that he didn't know human emotions any better but he has seen human's facial expressions numerous times to the point where he can differentiate between happiness and sorrow.

He wanted to go and listened to your pleading stare, listened to your wistful unspoken wishes… He knew you didn't want him there and that his mere presence was hurting you.

Neuvilette knew that much… you didn't need to tell him. Even for someone like him, he would still understand that look on your face. 

However, just like how he wished all the villains should serve justice, he still stubbornly stood there. Staying on his ground like a shattered fragment of glass in between a bleeding wound.

He opened his mouth to say something but no words came out. He didn't know what to say to you. Should he apologise? Should he tell his feelings? Should he act oblivious?

"Y/n, I…"

You quickly stood up and walked away from there, leaving your warm cup of chocolate drink unfinished. You didn't want to get involved with him anymore for you only want what's best for your already crumbling heart.

If you stayed any longer, you would've broken into a crying mess. It's embarrassing and you've cried enough for your damn unrequited love. It was time to move on now. Your heart has suffered enough and it's your own responsibility to protect it from harm.

Unhesitatingly, you run to your heart's content without looking back. You didn't care if people would question your actions but you knew that'll keep you away from him.

Eventually you reached somewhere far, somewhere you thought he couldn't reach or find you. You just need time for yourself and anywhere is fine so long as you're away from him. You started to walk aimlessly as you caught your breath from your unplanned escape.

'I'll be alright'. You thought. 

Suddenly, your wrist was grabbed as the person spun you around in an instant. You didn't have time to react as you met with his unwavering gaze once more. 

You didn't say a word as realisation struck into your mind but you were quick to struggle away from his hold in an attempt to free yourself.

"Please… Y/n, let me just-"

He didn't let go. His grip wasn't hurting you but it was impossible to break free from the mere fingers that were encircling around your thin wrist. 

"I don't want to!". You started to feel agitated by the situation.

He sighed, he didn't want to make things worse as it already was but a side of him was reluctant to let you go. If he did, he knew you'd walk away without hesitation and his effort would be in vain.

"Y/n!". He raised his voice just enough to make you stop from struggling.

Neuvilette was nervous. He was so scared that he'll fail to receive enlightenment for his own feelings. If he couldn't give a good answer, he should at least get an appropriate explanation from you. 

"Listen…". His usual calm voice returns once he knew your attention was on him. Even if it was for a brief moment he needs you to listen.

"You asked me about how someone perceives things, about the world… about you". He reminds you of those questions you've asked him before you quit working at the court. 

You quietly listened but you've averted your gaze away from him. Those questions were all just a useless bitter taste in your heart. 

"I… I still don't know what you meant by that. I don't know the answer to that but…"

"I don't care anymore. I don't need your answer". You cut through his words so fast before he could end his sentence.

He was still holding your wrist but his calm expression instantly twisted into a pained frown. It reflects his heart deeply.

"...I'm sorry". He spoke almost in a hushed whisper.

"So stop talking to me! and just go…". Your rage slowly quiets down as your gaze returns towards him. Droplets of warm tears softly landed on your face as he looked down at you. 

He didn't speak and neither did you. The both of you stood there in between the unfamiliar tension of emotions. You didn't understand why he was crying neither can he fathom the reasons behind your anger. It was confusing and yet laughable. 

You sighed, the sight of the Chief justice crying himself because of you felt unreal to you but you knew he was just being honest. You knew you made him cry for simply being expressive of your anger.

"Stop crying… you… you don't look like yourself". You quietly mumbled under your breath as you tried to keep your cool attached yet a part of you wanted to console him.

He didn't, that didn't make him stop from crying. That grown man, who's taller than you, quietly cried like a small child being told to do their difficult maths homework on their own.

"Alright, I'll… I'll listen to you". You slowly added with a heavy sigh.

"Really?". He calmly questions. Despite sulking in messy tears, his voice seems to lack any unclear clarity. It was as if the voice barely belonged to a person who's crying.

You nodded and slowly returned your gaze to meet his enchantingly unnatural blue eyes. His sad gaze feels ethereal as the beauty of nature itself.

"Then could you please explain to me… tell me the answer to your question." His beautiful eyes still glistened with tears but he seems a lot calmer than before.

Neuvilette's innocent demands for your answer felt unnecessarily weird. How could he ask you that when humans not only have difficult unexplainable emotions but ego and pride?

Should you say it directly? You were so close to moving on from these feelings. If you explain that to him, would anything change? You didn't want to give a hint of hope inside your heart for that love anymore. It's unbearable if things stay the same. If you were being honest, you wanted more than just him to understand your feelings. 

"It's alright if you don't know the answer. It means that my question was just a bunch of baloney"

Unlike his usual calm facial expression, his eyes widened in response to your remarks, "You're lying. Tell me the truth!"

His words struck your heart like piercing lightning in a thunderous rain. You nervously looked away from his gaze. He was right.

Despite that, you shook your head refusing to tell him. You slowly reached out a hand in an attempt to wipe away the evident tears on his cheeks but you hesitated. After all, who would've been so insane to touch a person's face without clear reasons. You're well aware that you're just a stranger to him.

Neuvilette didn't move away neither did he say a word but instead he brought his face to lean into the palm of your hand. His smooth clear skin in contact with your bare hands felt a little odd to you but somehow your restless heart feels startlingly at peace with the soothing warmth.

His eyes calmly closed, seemingly appreciating your touch. You noticed that he seems unusually happy because of such simple reasons or was it just your own imagination playing tricks on you?

"I feel-"

The moment his mouth started to speak you retreated your hands away from him. The conscience in you feels reluctant to be in a vulnerable state once more. You're in this constant battle of removing yourself from harm but at the same time you still want to place a glimmer of hope. Which you knew you shouldn't considering that he's unable to perceive you more than you wished him to be.

He opened his eyes to meet your gaze. As he stared back deep into your gaze, he could feel the intense rejection even before he tried anything. Where did he go wrong? He has so many unanswered questions but where should he start first? 

"You should know that I feel suffocated with sadness when I can't see you anymore and it's unfair that you're avoiding me now"

Your disappointment slowly returned into your heart. To you, he was a lost cause but wasn't it too harsh to say it too soon? Your heart was torn in between.

"Unfair? What are you spouting about?". You snickered coldly with your eyes unwaveringly gazing up at him. 

He looked away to the side at your distaste directed on him but he courageously kept his hands securely holding on to your wrist. He hasn't given up and he won't let go.

Neuvilette knew that it was better to keep quiet when humans were in rage but he still wondered if the things he wanted to say would change your mind. Even just a little, would it amend things between you and him?

"...because maybe after all this time, I thought things weren't bad between us". He turned his head towards you once more. A sense of calmness returned when he spoke his mind.

"It wasn't. I was the problem but you don't need to worry… just give me more time and maybe someday we can finally be friends"

"So now? What about now?". He spoke without much hesitation and dismissed the things you’ve told him.

His question pushed you like a tsunami. What was he talking about? Was he giving hope? You want to cry so damn much because it was still painful despite your efforts to move on. It's only been a week since your efforts to forget about him but obviously that wasn't even near to erase your lingering feelings.

"I… I don't know. Why don't you tell me?".

Admittingly you still want something out of this. Perhaps him being here holds something significant for you. It must mean something that he hasn't told you. Maybe you should give him a chance. But would you let him fix it? Would you dare to step into the hand he was trying to give you? Or can he even be that someone?

You're scared to hope and yet you still want him to tell you something more. Something that could at least make you feel better.

Neuvilette searched your face in an attempt to find a definitive answer from you.

"It was really difficult to find you". He starts.

It's true, you were extremely careful with your whereabouts despite the chances are already insignificant due to the nature of his busy schedule. You refrained from walking outside and purchased groceries only when you knew there was an ongoing trial. Such as today, it was said that he was supposed to be in an important court session.

"It's because you were busy". You simply added.

"But I get to meet you today". He replied with a soft voice.

You always thought why did you even fall in love with him in the first place? He barely even smiles or does anything besides his responsibility in the court. He was that boring if you were to compare him with your preferred ideals. What nonsense has had your heart trapped into this?

"Maybe I should travel somewhere else so that we wouldn't meet again". You sarcastically replied under your breath.

"If you do that then… I'll come with you". He responded without a second thought. Your words have yet again driven him into the corner of his own emotions. If he doesn't speak now it'll be too late. 

You scoffed as you shook your head in complete disbelief, "Sure, even a child would believe you".

"You could do anything to me, you can run, you can hide but I won't let you escape my love". He suddenly spoke with conviction.

"You're bluffing, who are you to talk about love?". Those words came out of his mouth so suddenly that you became defensive. 

"If you feel like leaving. I'm not going to beg you to stay because it's your rights". He calmly spoke but with a hint of confidence as he ignored your statements.

You took a step back and he took a step forward.

"This regret has filled me with a sadness that has haunted me for a week". He then admitted.

"I'm aware that I've been dismissing you whenever you want to help me but I never intended for you to handle my responsibilities.". He paused to look at you.

"Perhaps you didn't like that good gesture of mine but I'll make sure to listen to you from now on". He opened his mouth to say something but seemingly hesitated.

"So maybe I should hold my heart out for you to take but…". He gently held both of your trembling hands and brought it in between the both of you.

"...will you keep it?"

------[ yes | no ]-------

A/N: and so I shall see how this will go...

[stropharian-world]

It's about time I finished his character info.

I've been drawing this puppy for two years (wtf how?!) and I keep on delaying his development, but now my boy is growing and needs some proper attention from my pencil. Besides, I have way too many stories in my head and those need to come out.

Open Flesh Rick's Info Dump under the cut (long text):

Open Flesh Rick (derivative from band name) / OF Rick

This Rick never got around to discover Portal Technology. His early adult life was spent living in the garage of kind roommates, and he used his self-taught engineer and chemist skills to produce small explosive devices and recreational drugs, so he could later sell to sustain himself of rent and resources for his experiments, and music gear. 

His main and solely aspiration in life was (and still is) music: he has always wished to be in a band. 

However, in his late twenties he got abducted by an unexpected sudden visitor in his garage: this body hunter, who looked exactly like him but a few years older, didn’t leave him much of a choice but to tase him and bring him to one of the dark labs, possibly non associated with The Citadel of Ricks.

Rick got experimented on, by the hands of a head scientist Rick, who’s main project was to create different ways for Ricks to be able to access portal technology without being reliant on an external device. He got implanted with a bionic portal fluid containing disk, along with several bionic vertebra of his spine, all containing bionic induced portal fuid, as a replacement for his human CSF (Cerebrospinal Fluid). He was brainwashed, and his neural pathways catered to access this new portal technology on command.

However, this experiment got interrupted by an explosion in the building provoked by another Rick’s rebellion’s attack on other Ricks, and after the scientist’s quick get away, Open Flesh Rick was left to die in the ruins of the lab, being nothing more than a vegetable-like failed experience.

Luckily for him, a Birdperson - Birdperson L-355 (aka Blue Birdperson), was doing a low key recon trip there, gathering tech and equipment for their own Birdpeople’s Rebellious agenda, and he happen to find this Rick, unconscious and barely alive. Being kind hearted and naive, he took Rick to his home planet, where his people provided him with care and healing, despite him not remembering anything or being able to provide any recollection of his life.

It didn’t take long for the matriarch of the Birdpeople to consider this human a liability for their planet, because whoever created that technology could easily try to retrieve him at any point - explaining that he could be considered a Person of Interest by both The Citadel / Unknown Organization and the Galactic Federation. 

He was taken to Dimension H-810, more specifically to planet Têrra H-810, for it’s resemblances to Earth, and the lack of GF jurisdiction. Blue Birdperson traveled with him in a shuttle provided by the Bird People, and stayed with him for a while. 

Emotionally speaking, he’s a very confused and traumatized person. Not only for having this unknown technology implanted in him, but because he feels like he doesn’t fit anywhere. His amnesiac status of not knowing who he is nor where he’s from, along with having his CSf partly replaced with the green fluid, making him neurologically unstable, created a such a turmoil in his mind, that left him to seek all sorts of destructive behavior, making him and his new friend Blue Birdperson to quickly drift apart. His personality is unstable, impulsive, and reckless. 

He did manage to keep on playing music, with a bass guitar he created himself. Apparently, and luckily, some of his faculties and intelligence were slowly being accessible by him, and he didn’t waste any time of making use of those - creating and selling weapons in the black market, and playing his nights away. 

Upon the opportunity to join an audition for rock bands, this conflicted with BP’s desire to keep him safe. Rick was supposed to stay low key and out of sight, and BP feared getting into a band and playing at bars would leave him exposed to possible threats, and eventually expose his own people's whereabouts. This created a rupture even further in their relationship, along with BP’s deep traditional customs, making him leave again for his home planet and dimension. 

While trying his luck in his almost non-existent musical journey, he connected with another Birdperson from that dimension, Birdperson H-810. This older man not only had no connection to his people, he despised everything related with laws and the government. And being in a band with his friend mutant Squanchy, their musical interests just hit perfectly. 

This led quickly to a band partnership and romantical relationship. Rick, not knowing who he is, not belonging anywhere, felt safe and comfortable with someone who didn’t care about origins or backgrounds. And so their story together began. 

NOTES: Rick found out his name was Rick Sanchez, due to a reading bio printed in his arm, possibly from the years he got experimented on. He proceeded to black out both his scars and bio tagged arms. 

Against a better judgment, his drugged out and wasted behavior leaves him to perform/ walk around shirtless many times, exposing his bionic portal fluid disk. Birdperson’s laid back behavior does nothing to prevent this, nor is worried of the consequences of this actions.

They have a small shitty one-bedroom apartment, and when they can’t get around to make enough money for it, they’ll sleep wherever they can, often using Squanchy’s music practice storage room to crash. Rick always keeps a small lab station wherever he lives.

It wasn’t until one day, against Birdperson’s desire of Rick to keep himself in the dark and staying who he is, they managed to collect enough credits to access a very shady technology that would resurface his memories of being abducted and experimented on. This would give him confirmation of the real responsible ones for his situation, and possibly his original dimension name.

After this revelation, whenever he gets around it, his focus shifts into trying to discover how to complete the process of the technology he has in him, and figuring out how to access it. 

[pommunist]

hey, I hope alls going well and that it’s fine to ask questions about the current situation.

Question: What are the doxing laws in France? And is it valid to criticize Lea for doxing? As no matter what actions done against you, she committed a crime. In addition her response was that they (Qstudios) committed more crimes than me so it’s fine rubbed me the wrong way. Nothing justifies doxing just like nothing justifies mistreating your workers, multiple wrongs do not and never will make it right. So could Lea be sued for doing this? Should she? Would French law protect her? Whose law would this fall under in court, French, America, Mexico? I do hope Lea and all the workers gets compensated for their time and effort and that Quackity is doing alright with being doxed by said former worker. Is that a fair opinion? I’m trying to give her some credit it’s an accident and she is rightfully angry at him but it still doesn’t justify causing danger to someone (at least in the opinion of me).

I slept on the topic and pray I worded it well. Hopefully, this doesn’t come across as hateful, I’m not towards any party. However, I just don’t agree with the methods she used to act on in this case or her apology (or lack of one), it came across as “I’m a victim who cares little about the person I just hurt because the stress made me do it”. People’s response are almost as bad. “We forgive you for doxing” - Not your apology to give, You Are Not Affected, “Doxing is bad so I am valid in not taking your words to mean anything *” - Not understanding that she is a victim of his workplace abuse just as he’s a victim of her doxing. Am I stupid for think that?

Also felt the need to add: Thank you again for the translation document. The amount of work to do that is absolutely incredible and you (all of you who worked on it) should feel so proud to have been able to fully commit to that. If you reply thank you so much in advance and let the rest of your day be amazing. Sorry if you already answered something simulair.

Well first of all anon, you can criticise anyone you want for any reason you want, you don’t have to ask me first ! Personally I don’t believe she should have shared this publicly or at least not without making sure private info was censored.

Secondly….Do you hate me anon 🥺? Making me look up law stuff ? /j

I’ll try to answer as best as I can, just keep in mind that the legal field doxxing falls under isn’t something that I’m specialised in. So, take it with a grain of salt, always.

(tbh i don’t think we’ll see the day a minecraft cc will do something that fall under my area of expertise but if it ever happens drop them immediately ahah)

French law

The closest we have to a law against doxxing is :

-« Endangerment of someone’s life by divulgation of private information in regards to their professional, personal or familial life »

-« Divulgation of data with intent to harm »

-Just general legal protection of someone’s private life.

Legally it would be difficult for a lawsuit against Lea because of her tweet to have a legal standing. Not only it would be very difficult to prove she had the intent to doxx anyone (not saying she did). But also because the information that she posted, and the informations people found because of it are extremely easy for anyone to access.

I know this because around a month ago when Léa first came out with her story, I stumbled upon it b, with just a very simple google search, while I was just trying to know in which US state Q’s company was registered. (I was curious to know under which state’s legal jurisdiction it was).

So both the malicious intent and the private element of the information would be incredibly hard to prove.

US law :

From what I understand, there is no federal law against doxxing in the US.

There are some state law, like in California, where doxxing can be considered a misdemeanour if you prove that it was done with the goal to harm someone.

I looked up some articles to help me answer this and I found this which can hopefully shine some light on how doxxing is seen from a legal standpoint. (Doesn’t mean doxxing is a good thing or that it doesn’t affect people’s lives, this is, again, just from a legal perspective)

https://joindeleteme.com/doxxing/is-doxxing-illegal/

There may be more but US law, not my thing at all so I don’t know !

Conclusion : I’ll be honest I can’t see her being sued for this, from a legal standpoint.

______

My own personal take on this is that no, Léa shouldn’t have posted what she did before making sure no personal info was on it, even if she had probably no intent to spread personal info. But also no, this could barely count as doxxing because like I said it’s very easily accessible information (don’t mean you should go look for it because like, why ?). Now she deleted it and it’s quite difficult to see what she had posted, good. There’s no point defending her nor hating on her for this.

I’d rather go back to talking about the main issue, workers rights and workplace abuse, than spend time pandering whether or not one of said workers is a bad person and how she should act. Not saying people should NOT talk about it just that it’s not something I’m interested in discussing✌️

[familyabolisher]

ok the "terrorist" half of your tlt post is very intuitive to me but do you have a good historical example of the term war criminal applied dubiously that I could read up on? no need to explain, I can do the research from there; it's just that if anything I thought the issues with the concept of war crimes primarily went the other way, with obvious atrocities NOT being ruled war crimes when they're committed by the side in power

ok so my position on "war crime" (and similar terms like "hate crime") as language used to describe atrocities comes from the fact that it appeals to criminality as sufficient evidence of, for lack of a better word, "badness," rather than understanding criminality + criminalisation, illegality, etc. as constructions steeped in sites of violence at which capitalism + imperialism must fortify themselves. it's a matter of semantics in some ways but i think it's important in terms of how we conceive of violence + atrocities committed during war, and how we conceive of what criminality as a state denotes. so, you're right, but in that instance the term 'war crime' is redundant; it's only a crime if it's accountable to the criminal justice system, which atrocities that the side in power can get away with are not. a "criminal" is made a criminal under a particular jurisdiction, and the state of being a criminal only explains that person in relation to that jurisdiction, and that jurisdiction does not stand for a metaphysical property of ‘goodness’ or morality as much as it stands for a particular expression of hegemony. so the best i can recommend for reading is texts on prison + police abolition, ig - i can give you recommendations if you like but they're pretty easy to find for yourself if you aren't already familiar with them.

i don’t actually have any specific examples of ‘war criminal’ being dubiously leveraged off the top of my head - as i said, it’s more a matter of semantics and reframing how we think about paradigms of criminality - but i suppose an analagous example would be appeals to ‘human rights’ or violations thereof, which are frequently used to create prerequisites for imperialist intervention in communist countries and stir up anticommunist sentiment; cuba, venezuela, the DPRK, to name a few.

[anophelei]

at best there genuinely isn't a meaningful function that this "pedohunter" callout shit serves. you know full fucking well that all forms of abuse are ignored and brushed aside, child abuse being worse, and csa being the most severely unaddressed of all. even if you think such crimes are the exception to prison abolition or death sentences, you know that law enforcement is criminally negligent in handling them, if they even fucking bother. and if they do bother in cases of csem/csam and online exploitation, they explicitly DO NOT make it a public as any form of public acknowledgement is detrimental to collecting evidence and establishing a case; if you sound the alarm you're simply giving an opportunity for people to cut and run while burning as much evidence as possible on the way out. THIS is WHY the fbi doesn't acknowledge anonymous tips, it would only end up being an easy way to confirm if you're being investigated.

at most all you can hope for in making a callout post is some small amount of community awareness, maybe helping keep people away from abusers, but there are a lot of fucking consequences in doing so holy shit. first, it signals that it's time to ditch and set back up elsewhere; if someone online is looking into it then you can be sure as shit law enforcement is at least aware of the situation, ESPECIALLY when you explicitly make note of NOTIFYING THE FBI AND LOCAL LAW ENFORCEMENT ??? I'm sorry you didn't get a fucking medal for recording and cataloguing shit, but you most likely didn't even have to do that and doing so hinders investigations given how long that takes, you don't have the resources or jurisdiction so you've just delayed any investigation from people who do.

second, even IF you handle everything perfectly and with the delicacy something like this requires, you are further traumatising the victims and retraumatising survivors by blasting the very real abuse and exploitation they've suffered through into the public sphere, quite literally showcasing it with the goal of as many people as possible seeing it. you are not going to do that though, you're going to fuck it up in some way, and this whole situation is clear proof of that. the ways in which toonimal has been handled irresponsibly are too many to fucking count, and the sheer negligence and lack of care has resulted in victims' information being readily available. Even if no direct harm comes as a result of the spotlight you've placed on the victims and where and how to find them, being exposed as a victim before you've even come to terms with it yourself, not to mention the painful processes necessary to fully acknowledge what was done to you, and then to be ready to talk about it after, IS REALLY GOD DAMN FUCKING TRAUMATISING. you are forcing victims through years of pain and confusion and grief and loss without even the slightest consideration of what that might be like, and this isn't the type of thing where biting the bullet is necessary or at all helpful. in reality, pushing victims to reconcile with realisations that will haunt them for the rest of their lives is only likely to result in denial, you are directly hindering victims from recovery and pushing them CLOSER to their abusers, who WILL capitalise on their conflicted emotional state to isolate them further and draw them closer.

If it doesn't stop the abuse and it doesn't help victims, the only thing it could be doing is making you feel good about yourself for your catastrophically misguided attempt at sticking it to LITERAL CHILD ABUSERS, which is the most patently fucking pathetic shit you could ever hope to accomplish. what you care about is your own deluded notion of getting the bad guy, and this is only further evidenced in every single person who responds to and shares your pitiful self aggrandizement frothing at the mouth and chomping at the bit over how badly they want to kill these sick freaks, how righteous they are for that, and how far beneath them the degenerate monsters are.

yeah, child abusers are fucking bad people, you're not special for thinking so, and you're not accomplishing ANYTHING when you dehumanise them purely for the sake of posturing. you only manage to make it patently fucking obvious that you hold both yourself and the people who sexually abuse children to be more important than the victims could ever be.

you truly cannot comprehend the idea of even considering us, of acknowledging us as anything more than an abstract concept only significant in the fact that we have determined someone to be guilty. I'm an adult, I've been in mental health care for quite literally half my life, I can handle your callous disregard for what was done to me and the countless, immeasurable ways in which it affected me.

A child can't.

Maybe you should ask yourself why you've never once reacted with grief for the victims, have only ever considered crucifying sinners. Why you've never cared to – or even considered the possibility of – learning the ways to recognise when a child is being abused, the potential to help them recognise if something is being done to them, to realise it if so. It might actually help someone, and it's not like calling for heads on the fucking internet could ever hope to accomplish anything. Give up the pretentions of giving a single shit about us and maybe actually do it for once in your life.

[guinea-pig16]

Something Better || Chapter 2: Familiar Grounds

Ghost x Reader x Soap

Fic is below the cut, please read Chapter 1 first if you haven't!! Please enjoy !!!

______________________________________________________________

Word Count: 4,500+

Warnings: guns and gunfire

______________________________________________________________

You stared at yourself in the mirror. Goddamn. You couldn’t remember the last time you looked at yourself. You looked like hell.

You had dark bags under your eyes from sleepless nights, your skin had a sickly tone due to lack of time outside and inconsistent meals, your once muscular arms had gone soft due to inactivity, and your eyes that once sparkled with life were dim and lackluster. You ran a hand through your hair, letting out a long sigh. You had a lot of work to do.

You called Laswell the next day, accepting the position. You could hear the smile on her face as she explained the next steps. As soon as you had completed your recovery, you would be under her jurisdiction for the next few months as she showed you the ropes. Then, you would be assigned a task force. Now, all you had to do was recover. Easy enough.

It was in fact, not easy. You thought bootcamp as tough, but this was just downright torture. Everyday, your nurses would push and bend your leg in a new, painful way. But you would show up everyday bright and early, eager for more. And every night you would collapse into bed, exhausted, your mind too tired to plague you with nightmares.

You got yourself to begin eating more, making sure to leave your plate practically spotless. Your nurse openly cried in front of you when she saw your clean plate.

Slowly but surely, your stamina was returning as well as your muscle definition. You were able to walk further everyday without assistance from a cane or a nurse, though you still had a noticeable limp. But eventually, you would have to resort to using your cane, though you wouldn’t admit it.

Two months pass, and your doctors declare that you’ve completed your recovery. The nurses who have been with you since day one decided to throw you a small party to celebrate, bringing in plates of snacks and drinks. You were happy to see them look at you without pity and sympathy, just joy and pride. The party was full of laughter and smiles, and occasionally a few tears. Especially from your personal nurse, who practically saw you as her child. Then, the day came for you to be discharged from the hospital.

“Now, just remember sweetie… I’ll always… I’ll always be here for you.” Her eyes well with tears once again and she chokes down a sob. You smile gently and nod. She breaks down and wraps you into a bone-crushing hug, being mindful of your lower back and leg. You awkwardly pat her back. She fans her eyes and takes a deep breath, before returning to helping you pack your few things. You walk out of your room, a content smile gracing your face. A different nurse walks with you to outpatient, as yours is currently being consoled by the others. You give her a grin and a wave goodbye, causing her to break down once again.

The nurse walks you to outpatient and you see Laswell waiting outside, leaning against her car. The nurse gives you a small hug and wishes you well. You thank her and return the thought, before turning and leaving the hospital for the first time in months. You take one step outside, and breathe in the fresh air. You take another step and-

“AH!” You cry out, a sharp, searing pain rips through your right leg. You would have collapsed to the ground if Laswell hadn’t caught you. And then you realized something. You forgot your fucking cane.

“You alright there, L/N?” Laswell asks, helping you stand up straight. You hiss through your teeth as your thigh begins to spasm painfully.

“...Yeah… Forgot my damn cane…” You mumble, slightly embarrassed. Right after those words leave your mouth, your nurse comes running out the doors, clutching your cane.

“I can’t believe you! Trying to leave without your cane! You should know better!” She chastises. You just have to stand there, clutching your returned cane, as your nurse chews you a new one. Laswell stands behind you, a small amused grin on her face. Eventually she calms down, and gives you another hug and kiss on the cheek. 

“Be careful dear. I better not see you here again unless it’s to visit, alright?” You roll your eyes slightly and smile.

“Yes ma’am. Take care now.” You wave goodbye as Laswell opens the passenger side door for you. You see her hand move to take your cane for you, but stops herself. She rounds the car and gets in on the driver’s side as you tuck your cane next to your seat and pull yourself in. You throw your small bag of belongings in the back seat and buckle. Laswell takes off the emergency break.

“You ready to begin, L/N?” She says, turning her head towards you. Eyes full of determination, you nod. She smiles. “Alright. Let’s get started.”

_______________________________________

 From that moment on, you spent nearly every single day by Laswell’s side. She assigned you classes to take, mission logs to read, training simulators, she even brought you to mission debriefs. She watched your progress closely, praising you when you completed an assignment, and correcting you where you messed up. After four months of training, she finally decided you were ready for your first official assignment.

“You’ll be assigned to one of our low stakes task forces to start off with. If you do well, you’ll be moved to higher stake task forces. Got it?” You gave Laswell a curt nod, taking in each and every word she said. You two were on your way to meet with the general to get your first mission before you met with the task force. Your cane hung around your arm. You didn’t want the general or the task force seeing you walking with it, even if you did have a noticeable limp.

The two of you reach the general’s office door. “Now, General Evans is just going to state the mission, it will be up to you to figure out how to accomplish it.” Laswell said, looking at you. You nodded in response. She gave you a nod back and knocked on the door.

“Enter.” Said the voice from inside. Laswell opened the door and the two of you stepped inside. General Evans was standing in front of his window, looking outside. He turned once the door closed and gave you both a smile. You straightened and saluted him, slightly hiding your cane behind your back.

“At ease, you must be Officer L/N, the retired vet, right?” General Evans stuck his hand out. You took it and he gave you a firm handshake.

“Yes, sir.” You replied. He smiled at you and gestured for the two of you to sit at the chairs in front of his desk. He took his place behind his desk and laced his fingers together.

“Alright, so, we’ve got some important intel at one of our bases in the Bahamas, but a local terrorist group has invaded it and claimed it as their own. So we’re sending task force 125 in to infiltrate and reclaim the base. It should be easy enough, the group isn’t large and won’t have the same gun power we have.” He explained. You listened intently, mind swimming with strategies and plans. You could see Laswell watching you out of the corner of your eye.

“Got all that, officer?” You nodded.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, I expect this to be resolved by 0800 Friday. Dismissed.” You nod and stand, saluting the general once more before you and Laswell leave. Once outside the office, your leg trembles and you finally resort to using your cane for support. Laswell glances at you, but doesn’t say a word.

“Right, let’s go meet the task force.”She says. You nod and both take off down the hall, albeit slower than you would have liked due to your limp. The two of you head to the training room of the base. As you approach the door, you lean your cane against the wall and walk in without it. Laswell hesitates a moment, looking at your cane. But you’re already through the door.

There’s only one group in the training room today, that being task force 125. As you enter, you see the captain stop and look at you. He motions for his men to stop as well. You see that the team is decently sized, about 10 people including the captain. Laswell steps in behind you and stands at your side, arms behind her back.

“Well, you must be our new strategist, right?” The captain approaches you, almost sizing you up. He notes your posture, how you lean all your weight on your left leg. You think you hear him let out a huff. You straighten your back, much to its discomfort, and stick out your hand.

“Officer Y/N L/N. You must be Captain Fischer, or am I mistaken?” You say, eyes boring into his own. He hesitates slightly, before gripping your hand tightly and shaking it.

“...That I am. And behind me are my men. Get over here, boys!” Fischer turns his head and yells. His troop kind of awkwardly walks forward, and a handful salute you and Laswell. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Laswell’s eyes slightly narrow. 

“Alright, here we have Privates Bradley, George, Stephenson, White, Foster, and Woods. Then it's Corporals Park, Garner, and Pittman. You got that, officer?” Captain Fischer says, a slight snark in his tone. You nod.

You know exactly what this team is like by just looking at them. During your years of service, you’ve encountered people like them before. They’re young, reckless, and think themselves unkillable. They’re egos are high because they’ve been placed in a task force. Little do they know, their task force is just the clean up crew. Compared to you, they’re just a bunch of rookies. But you know that you have to start somewhere in order to move up.

“Pleasure to meet you all. Now, let’s get started shall we?” You say, hands behind your back. You explain the mission to the team, word for word, exactly how General Evans gave it to you. You notice that they halfway listen, a couple of the privates eyeing you up and down. 

“This mission should be easy in and out. I’ll have the plans ready by,” You glance down at your watch. “0200 this afternoon. By then, I expect you to be ready for debrief and packed for the plane that leaves by 0700. Copy?” You saw the Captain’s eyes roll slightly. But you didn’t let it bother you. You saw Laswell slightly smile next to you.

“Copy that. We’ll be waiting.” He says. You nod, and dismiss the team. They shamble away, glancing at each other, chuckling. You let out a breath you were holding and grit your teeth. Your leg had been throbbing the entire time, but you didn’t let it show. Laswell nudged your side. You looked over. She was holding out your cane to you.

You stood there for a second, then took it, gratefully leaning on it for support. “Thanks.” You say. When had she grabbed it for you?

“No worries. Now, let’s get you the intel you need for the mission.” And with that, you two took off back down the hall.

You spent the morning planning how the mission would go, considering every countermove, attack, even what the weather would be like. You double, triple, quadruple checked the intel you received, making sure it was 100% accurate. You wanted to prove yourself to Laswell and make sure this mission went smooth as butter.

Exactly at 0200, you met back with the task force. Though, you had to wait about 10 minutes longer for the entire team to show up. You went over the plans with them, detailing where they would infiltrate, where the intel was located, and where the enemies would be located. They half listened, occasionally yawning loudly. You ignored them. At least it wasn’t your ass going on the mission.

Later that day, Laswell walked with you to the black top to put you on the plane. Task force 125 was surprisingly on time and packing their things into the plane. You saw the captain look you up and down, taking in your cane, and whisper something to one of the corporals, smirking. You once again, ignored it. You and Laswell stopped in front of the plane.

She turned to you. “Alright, L/N. This is your first mission. Don’t mess it up now, understand?” You nodded. She patted you gently on the shoulder. Her eyes softened. “You’ve done good so far, now’s your chance to prove yourself, got it?” You gave her a smile, and nodded again. She glanced at the task force and back to you, then leaned down next to your ear. “Try not to let them bother you that much, they’re just a bunch of idiot rookies.” She whispered. You chuckled slightly.

“You got it, Laswell.” You said, a smile on your face. She returned the smile and patted your shoulder again.

“See you in a couple days, officer.” She said. You saluted her and she walked back into the base.

You took in a deep breath, and walked onto the plane, clutching your bag, cane clacking against the ground. You could see the soldiers eyeing you from the corner of your eye. You tried not to let the embarrassment build up in your gut.

The engines rumbled to life as you and the task force settled down. And the plane took off into the sunset. You hoped to God this mission would go as planned.

_____________________________

“Fischer, what’s your status?” You said into the microphone, watching the body cam feed intently. You had landed in the Bahamas just a few hours ago, but there was no time for rest and relaxation, much to the team’s dismay. It was just past midnight, and you had shoved their asses right out into the field. You knew night missions tended to go smoother, as the enemy wouldn’t be expecting it. At least, from your experience they didn’t.

“Tired as hell, but moving forward.” He responded, a snarky tone to his voice. 

“Copy that, keep proceeding, you’re about 1 click away from the base. Keep low to the ground, there’s a chance for night guards.” You said into the mic. Fischer grunted in response. You shuffled around the various screens, looking over your people’s shoulders. When you arrived, you were given a small team to help you monitor the task force’s radios and cameras. You listened to the idle chatter over the radios between the team’s members.

“Officer L/N, we’ve got visuals on the base.” Said a member of your group. You went over to him and looked at the camera. Private Stephenson had been the first to approach the base.

“Private, we’ve got a visual on the base, keep low and keep an eye out for guards.” You said to him. You heard him sigh.

“I’ve got it.” He replied, before inching closer to the building. You furrowed your brows. What the hell is he doing?

“Private, stand by, wait for the others to arrive.”

“I said I’ve got it. This shit’s easy as hell, I’ll be in and out, 2 minutes top.” Stephenson said.

You frowned and were about to start to order him to wait again, when you saw a glint of metal from his camera.

“Stephenson, get to the ground. Now.” You said, eyes fixed on the sniper rifle that was steadily aiming for his head.

“What, why?”

The rifle stopped, and you knew what was about to happen.

“Get on the fucking ground, NOW!” You yelled. Stephenson hesitated slightly, but dropped to the ground right as bullets whizzed past his head. You gritted your teeth. The fucking idiot just alerted the base to their presence. 

“Goddammit Stephenson, you just let the whole base know you’re here.” You grumbled on the radio. He said something back, but you had already switched back to Fischer’s channel.

“Keep to the trees, Stephenson was kind enough to let the group know you were coming. Expect more targets to leave the base. They’ll be looking for you.” You said, pinching the bridge of your nose. Bunch of idiots… Your team was never like this… You stopped that train of thought before it could continue.

“Roger that.” Replied Fischer. You watched as the team slowly approached the edge of the treeline, a couple retrieving Stephenson from the edge. You and the team watched carefully as members from the terrorist group exited the building, just like you said, looking around. You scoffed slightly at their weapons. General Evans was right, they wouldn’t stand a chance against what you had. But they had the advantage now of expecting the team, and you could tell they weren’t going to be scared off easily.

“Let’s just go in, guns blazing.” Said Corporal Garner.

“Negative, they’re expecting you now, you’ve lost the element of surprise. They’re weapons may not be the best, but they have the advantage right now. Remember, they outnumber you, it’s 10 against 20. Best course of action is to lure a handful into the woods and take them out.” You said, watching the targets scan the treeline.

Fischer scoffs. “Please, we’re better trained than them, we can take them.” You see him get ready to charge, along with the others. You grit your teeth, and your team looks at you with apprehensive eyes.

“Do. Not. Engage. You’re going to get your shit rocked. Lure a handful of them into the woods and take them out with your knives.” You say, attempting to keep your cool.

Fischer straight ignores you. You hold your head in your hands as you watch them charge out into the open. Gunshots echo through the radios and you watch the screens, your face set into a deep scowl. Just as you said, the team is quickly overwhelmed and are forced to take cover behind a couple fallen trees.

“Captain, we’re taking on too much fire! What do we do?” Yells Corporal Park. You stand there, waiting for Captain Fischer to respond. He doesn’t, and in the silence you can tell he’s panicked as hell.

“Captain. I’m going to say this slowly so it gets through your thick fucking skull. Throw one of your smoke bombs at the targets. Once the smoke has filled the area, you, Park, Garner, and Pittman charge and take down as many targets as you can with your knives. Do not use your guns, they’ll be able to see the flash and hear the sound, alerting them to your location. Before the smoke clears, enter the building and have the rest of the team shoot down the rest of the targets. Retreive the intel and get your fucking asses back to base. Copy?” You say, voice low. You couldn’t help but let some of the venom enter your voice as you spoke. Your team was looking at you apprehensively. 

Fischer was silent for a moment. “Roger that.” 

“Good. Now begin.” You replied. You watched as he executed your plan. He threw the smoke bomb, and as soon as smoke filled the area, he, Park, Garner, and Pittman jumped over the fallen tree and sliced down at least half of the targets. They slipped through the open door and Fischer motioned for the others to begin shooting. Gunshots rang out through the night air as they stepped through the base. 

“Keep your guns up, the base could still have targets inside.” You say through the radios. Fischer, Pittman, Garner, and Park reply with a curt ‘Copy’. Right after they replied, a terrorist jumped into the hall with a gun, but was quickly shot. They inch down the hall, towards the intel room. Finally, they entered and quickly found the intel you were looking for.

“Good. Now get your asses back here.” You say. You get a quick ‘Roger that’, and watch as they exit the building. The rest of the team have already taken care of the targets, their bodies splayed out on the ground. You huff and take off your headset. You gently set it onto the table, an attempt to appear you’ve kept your cool. But you and your team both know that it’s just a ruse. You were fucking pissed.

Your boots clamped on the ground, your cane clacking angrily on the concrete floor as you tore down the hallway, people quickly getting out of your way as you rushed past them. Your right leg was screaming at you for the harsh speed, but you didn’t care. You had a score to settle. 

You arrived outside right as the task force returned. They looked nervous and as soon as they saw your figure striding towards them, scared. Captain Fischer stepped forward, mouth open to speak. The only sound he let out was a small cry as you hooked your cane around his knee and tugged, causing him to fall. You grabbed his collar before he hit the ground, getting him down to your level. You brought your face close to his.

“Listen here you ignorant, egotistical prick. I don’t give two fucking shits if you like me or not, but you do not ignore a direct order, do you understand me?” You savored the fear in his eyes. He swallowed and gave you a single nod. You loosened the grip on his collar and let him fall to his knees. You glared at the team around you, they shrunk under your gaze.

“You all could have died tonight because you decided you were more intelligent and experienced than me. You’re fucking lucky I didn’t leave you all out to dry out there. I know you think you’re better than me because you’re faster, stronger. But let me tell you something.” You leaned forward, your voice low. “You disobey an order again, and I’ll fuck you up so bad they won’t know which side is your ass and which is your head. Am I clear?” The team hesitated a moment and let out mumbles of ‘yes’s and ‘okay’s. You scowled once again.

“When I say, ‘Am I clear?’ I expect a fucking ‘Yes, Officer.’ Now, once again, AM I CLEAR SOLDIERS!?” You yelled, posture straight, feet apart, arms behind your back. The team stands stiff as boards, and salute.

“YES, OFFICER!” They yelled in unison. You sigh, looking at all of them. You hold out a hand to the Captain, who’s still kneeling. He hesitantly takes it and you pull him to his feet.

“Good, now get the hell out of my face. We’re leaving by 0900 so get some rest.” They scurry away, the Captain hesitating slightly, looking at you, before he ran off. Once they’re gone, you let out a gasp and clutch your right leg. It was killing you the entire time, but the anger had thankfully sheltered you from the pain. For a bit at least. You hobbled back inside and made your way to your assigned quarters. 

You closed your door and leaned against it, savoring the darkness of your room. You had a headache coming on, and you were thinking about the mission. You pulled out your phone and texted Laswell.

You put your phone back into your pocket, not expecting a response. You shambled over to your bed and collapsed in it, exhausted. You weren’t going to worry about changing. Your eyes began to drift close, when you felt a buzz. You quickly pulled out your phone again.

You smiled at your phone. Setting it on your nightstand, you rolled over and pulled your blankets up to your chin. Letting out a sigh, you drifted off to sleep.

________________________________

After that mission, task force 125 treated you with respect. They executed every order you gave them as effortlessly as possible, and listened intently to your debriefs. You worked with them for about 2 months, before Laswell transfers you to another task force. You’re surprised when the team wishes you well, Captain Fischer giving you a hearty handshake as a goodbye. 

For the next 6 months, you bounce between task forces, each one providing a new and more intense challenge from the last. You plan, strategise, and give orders effortlessly. You’ve had no casualties in any of the teams you’ve worked with. You began to develop a sort of reputation as this incredible strategist, the one who got things done without losing men. Eventually, you developed a codename, Harbinger. 

Even with your reputation, you still couldn’t escape the judgemental gazes of the teams you worked with. Their eyes would immediately be drawn to your cane, to your limp. You could tell they wanted to ask, but no one ever did. You never gave them the chance.

One day, as you wrapped up a mission with your latest task force, 326, Laswell entered the intel room where you were monitoring the team's return. 

“Oh, Laswell, nice to see you. What are you doing here?” You ask, turning away from the screens. She came to your side, and you saw her clutching a folder. She smiled at you and handed over the folder. You gave her a curious look, and opened the folder. Inside were four documents. You skimmed through them. They were files of the soldiers, John Price, Kyle ‘Gaz’ Garrick, John ‘Soap’ Mactavish, and Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley. Your eyes widened slightly. These were the members of task force 141. You looked back at Laswell, who was smiling.

“You’re being transferred to task force 141 with me, L/N. This is your last mission with 326. Tomorrow we’re flying over to Greece where they’re stationed to meet them.” She said. Your jaw dropped. You’re going to be task force 141’s strategist, along with Laswell. The task force 141. You’ve heard the rumors about them, about their strength, resilience, and teamwork. They all moved together as one, and were considered unstoppable. You’d heard what they did with the Hassan mission. You studied their debriefs intently. And you were about to meet them. 

“Are… Are you serious? Do you think I’m ready?” You ask. As excited as you are to work with such a strong team, you can’t help but feel a bit apprehensive. Are you skilled enough to be trusted with the lives of these soldiers?

“I’m certain of it. This is what I’ve been training you to do, remember? Since day one I’ve been wanting you on the team, but the higher ups wanted to be certain you were ready. You’ve proven to be more than skilled enough to work with task force 141.” Laswell says, smiling at you. You look back at the folder in your hands, thinking.

You look back at Laswell, determination present in your eyes. “What time do we leave?” 

She smiles.

“That’s more like it.”

You hand her back the folder, and the two of you leave the room. You can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings to the table.

______________________________________________________________

Hiiii !!! I wanted to thank yall for your support of this series !!! Ive never had so much fun writing something before !!! Next chapter we'll see our task force 141 boys!!! Have a wonderful day !!! Ciao !!! &lt;3

XOXOXOXOX &lt;3

tagged people:

@sucka2me @deltottoro 

[kyouka-supremacy]

Okay so so terribly sorry for being an insufferable person but. if you comment one of my posts with “[Sigma is] innocent on the basis of the casino being exempt from international laws” I'm literally obliged to correct you, I'm sorry, I physically can't ignore it, it's literally the object of study of my life. Saying that no international laws apply here is just factually incorrect! Twice at that!

First: it's absurd to suppose the sky casino has its own state jurisdiction on the basis that in no word you can consider the sky casino a state. According to the Montevideo Convention of 1933, art. 1:

The state as a person of international law should possess the following qualifications: a) a permanent population; b) a defined territory; c) government; and d) capacity to enter into relations with the other states.

Sky casino fails to fulfill any of these criteria, and thus cannot be considered a state with its own jurisdiction. I don't think there's any need for me to elaborate on why the sky casino lacks a permanent population (its “population” consists of transitory customers), or a government (there's barely anything that can be considered legislature or executive and definitely no judiciary), or the capacity to enter into relations with the other states (we don't have any reason to assume it does). Finally, the sky casino platform cannot be considered a territory on the same basis that artificial islands aren't considered islands: for that we can refer to the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, art. 60, par. 8:

Artificial islands, installations and structures do not possess the status of islands. They have no territorial sea of their own, and their presence does not affect the delimitation of the territorial sea, the exclusive economic zone or the continental shelf.

Please also refer to the case of Sovereign Recognition of the Principality of Sealand, where the Principality's characteristic of being a World War Two anti-aircraft platform located within Britain's territorial waters makes it the perfect analogous case to compare to the sky casino; the platform's sovereignty isn't formally recognized by any country.

Concerning which jurisdiction the sky casino actually falls under, first of all we can refer to the Convention on International Civil Aviation, art. 1:

The contracting States recognize that every State has complete and exclusive sovereignty over the airspace above its territory.

So the sky casino's jurisdiction is the one of the state underneath it (most likely Japan).

In case the sky casino lies above high seas (all the sea spaces out of any country's jurisdiction), by the shared analogy between legal regime of sea spaces and airspaces, we can again refer to the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, art. 92, par. 1:

Ships shall sail under the flag of one State only and, [...] shall be subject to its exclusive jurisdiction on the high seas.

So it'd be the jurisdiction of the country the sky casino is associated to, for example the one it was built in.

Second: no person, no matter their country or lack or thereof, no matter the jurisdiction they were subject to at the moment of the crime, is extent from international laws. Individuals are considered by the international law doctrine having international legal personality (together with other personalities, such as nations and international organizations) on the exact basis that, besides benefiting from international rights, they also have obligations in front of the international law, and those duties are exactly the duty to not commit international crimes (International Military Tribunal of Nuremberg, 1946 Judgment: “International law imposes duties and liabilities upon individuals as well as upon States”; “Crimes against international law are committed by men, not by abstract entities, and only by punishing individuals who commit such crimes can the provision of international law be enforced”).

Everyone is subject to international laws no matter the jurisdiction; it's just that no one realizes it because to actually commit international crimes means you have to screw up real bad (i.e. : commit crimes of genocide, crimes against humanity, war crimes). Everyone being subject to international laws with no exceptions is. a huge thing. It means people will be held accountable even when their country decides not to process them. It permits‚ for example‚ the International Criminal Court to issue a warrant of arrest for the current president of Russia, despite we can take a guess that he'd never be processed by his country.

In conclusion: you can't say Sigma is extent from international laws, because no jurisdiction or person is extent from international laws. If anything, what you can do is argue he never committed any international crime, although that'd be hard on its own to sustain; the UN General Assembly condemned terrorism in its resolution 49/60, 1994:

Criminal acts intended or calculated to provoke a state of terror in the general public, a group of persons or particular persons for political purposes are in any circumstance unjustifiable, whatever the considerations of a political, philosophical, ideological, racial, ethnic, religious or any other nature that may be invoked to justify them

not to mention he likely would have to answer for counterfeit coin too.