#like I’m smart I guess but not a savant

[nightmonkeysstuff]

I saw this on instagram and literally thought

“tech v. me”

[sarahowritesostucky]

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Bucky Barnes

Tags: Fresh AU, dark rom-com, dark!Bucky, pre-serum Steve, cannibalism, kidnapping, yandere/basement wife, meet cute-ish, gay sex n' stuff, dub-con

Summary: Steve is so tired of the meat market that modern dating has become. Just when he's deleted all the apps and given up on ever finding Mr. Right, he meets the perfect guy at the grocery store.

A dark, cute, funny, fucked up, and very tasty love story.

It's a Fresh AU. "If you can't handle the cannibalism, get out of the kitchen"--or something like that

3. Hors D'oeuvre

Wait! I haven't read the previous chapter(s)

James winds up apologizing profusely for the insanely bad bite.

Steve’s a little disturbed that the guy would do something that rough on their first time together, but he chalks it up to the heat of the moment and forgives him,` telling James that: it's okay, he’s always been a freaky-fast healer anyway.

“S’my superpower,” he quips, making light of it when it's obvious James feels terrible.

“I’m still sorry,” he insists, thumbing carefully over the mostly-healed skin two days later. He stares at it like he stares at everything else—intensely. “I got carried away. Won’t do it again.”

Steve believes him.

Within a week, it’s pretty obvious that they’re dating. Steve kind of feels like the other shoe has got to drop at any moment, but that just keeps not happening. James is like, the perfect guy.

“He’s a doctor?” Clint says, on the third day after Bite Night. It’s movie night and he and Steve are rewatching Midsommar, because Clint’s a movie nerd and is convinced there are still hidden themes he can pick apart in the freaky-ass film. Right now the screen is paused at the exact second where they hammer the old guy’s head into paste. Clint really is a savant with a remote control.

Steve looks the gore over critically and stuffs more chips in his mouth, crunching. “Um, yeah,” he says distractedly.

He wonders how movie people make it look so real. How would they even know what to make it look like? Did one of the movie people see somebody’s head collapse in real life?”

“Earth to STEVE,” Clint waves a hand in front of his face and Steve blinks.

“What?”

“I said: what kind of doctor is he?”

“A surgeon,” Steve says, feeling warm and tingly even as he remembers it. He’s not only met a smart, sexy and funny older guy— he’s met a surgeon. Which automatically means he’s rich, too. Nobody is that fucking lucky in love, certainly not Steve.

“Of what?” Clint prods. “Like, hearts and brains? or boob jobs?”

Steve pauses with another handful of chips. Hm. That’s a good question. “I don’t know,” he says. “What’s it matter?”

“It matters because it’ll determine how much I esteem the guy,” Clint insists.

Steve snorts. “What? If he's a plastic surgeon he doesn’t deserve your respect?”

“Are you kidding? I’d respect him more if that’s what he was.” Clint grimaces. “I respect the hell out of anybody who can pull people’s skin off and rearrange it and unnatural shit like that. S’way more horrible than operating on a regular old heart or whatever.”

Steve makes a face as he considers that. “Yeah, I guess so. I heard once that when they do a nose job they literally like, pull the nose up off the face first.”

Clint gags. “Dude! No. My brain can’t unknow this now!”

“And yet you can watch shit like this.”

Clint presses play and the film resumes, the frame shifting from pasted-guy's head, to Florence Pugh's horrified face. “That's different," he says. "It’s movie magic, dumbass.”

Steve rolls his eyes. “You’re a dumbass.”

James tasks Steve with picking an actual date activity for them to do next. “No pressure,” he teases him over the phone, “but I hate stereotypes.”

Well. So much for mini golfing or the movies.

The place is called Bad Axes, their logo is a butt with an ax lodged in it, and the only two things to do there are drink beer and throw axes. Steve doesn’t reveal what they’re headed for when they meet at the subway, so James doesn’t know what's in store until they’re standing right outside the business' doors with the logo on them.

He stares for a long, long moment, and then busts out with the loudest, most sudden laugh. He looks over at Steve with a pained, almost hysterical expression.

Steve laughs. “What?”

“Nothing!” James squeaks. “This’ll be fun!”

Steve spends the rest of the date preening over the fact that he’s impressed his boyfriend.

(He only calls him that in his head, so far. He knows they’re not ‘boyfriends’ yet. They’re still feeling each other out, trying on the idea of being boyfriends. It’s just hard for Steve to remember that, when everything feels so natural between them.)

They grab drinks and get the safety and throwing tutorial from the unimpressed girl whose job it is to supervise drunk businessmen throwing sharp objects after work. It’s an over-the-head kind of deal, and Steve is prepared to nurture his manly pride and leave feeling a little bit like a Viking.

“Want to bet on who wins?” James asks, where he stands beside Steve in their little throwing area, a devilish gleam in his eye.

Steve considers it. The Axe Girl had told them it’s not so much a strength thing as a technique thing, so he’s not worried about being at a disadvantage. “Sure," he decides. "What are we betting on?”

“Hmm, how about … loser has to tell a secret about themselves,” James says. “First to stick the target twenty times wins.”

Steve’s stomach jumps at the look in James' eye. He grins. “You’re on.” Steve doesn’t have any good secrets anyway, so losing won't be a big deal (even though he fully intends to win).

They throw.

There’s a certain amount of body memory to it, Steve discovers after about fifteen minutes of fruitless throwing, his axe cracking off the plywood and thunking pathetically to the ground each time. He winds up getting the hang of it, but not in time to win the bet. James’ axe sticks on the first throw, and the second, and most of the times after.

Steve sulks about it as they take a break at one of the high-top tables, drinking their second round. “You’ve done this before,” he pouts, accusing. “Admit it.. You're a secret lumberjack.”

James looks at him fondly, like he thinks Steve’s reaction is cute. “Not exactly. But I've chopped enough to know my way around an axe.”

Steve grumps playfully at him. “Fine, cheater. I’ll think of a secret to tell you.” Bucky chuckles while Steve sips his beer and tries to come up with something juicy enough to be a ‘secret’ but not so juicy that it reflects badly on him. “I used to get in fights a lot."

James rolls his eyes. “Like as a kid? That doesn’t count.” He shoots him a sly look. “Adult secrets, Steven.”

Steve flushes at the use of his given name. There’s something oddly domineering about it that he likes. “Um, well … I've been arrested?”

James’ eyes light up. “Oh, do tell.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Of course not.”

“It wasn’t!” Steve laughs, shoving James’ shoulder. “It was a bar fight, basically. Some asshole bothering this woman he didn’t know, not taking no for an answer.”

James’ smile softens to something fond. “Aw, Steve. I should'a known. That's you then? Always trying to be a white knight?”

Steve scowls at the term but doesn’t try to deny it. “Well somebody had to do something,” he mutters. “I wasn’t the one who threw the first punch.”

“Why the arrest, then?”

“The charges were dropped. But I guess the jerk had some friends backing him up when the cops came, so I got rounded up too.”

James hums in understanding. “Well, I suppose that’s sort of a secret. But I have to say, I was really hoping for something a little more intriguing from you, Steve. A little more naughty.”

Steve snorts. “Why? You planning to blackmail me?”

“No.”

“You just like bad boys, then,” he jokes. He’s about the farthest thing there is from a bad boy. “Sorry. You’re outta luck with that one.”

“I’m not,” James says quietly, looking him in the eyes. “I actually like the sweet ones.”

Steve colors, he knows he does. “Oh.” He’s a sweet one. He chuckles and looks down at his beer bottle, turning it in little circles. “Thanks. I guess.”

James hums. “Hey, why don’t I apologize for my non-disclosure of my axing abilities, huh? I’ll tell you one of my secrets, too.”

“I’m all ears. What’s your secret?” In his head, Steve sarcastically imagines James saying something like, “I’m actually married and have two point five kids,” or, “I’m addicted to piss and shit porn.”

That’s not what he says.

“I’ve eaten human flesh.”

Steve blinks. “What.” He waits for the punchline, the second part of that confession that’ll make it funny, but there isn’t one. James just sits there and nods somberly. Steve laughs. “No, you haven’t. You have not.”

“I was just out of med school and interning at a center for pediatric reconstructive surgery in Shanghai.”

The smile drops right off Steve’s face. So he is a plastic surgeon, he thinks. He'll have to tell Clint. "The fuck?" he breathes.

James' mouth twists. “Yeah. That's what I said, when I realized."

"You're making this up," Steve says weakly, even though he can tell he's not, because James is sitting there looking completely serious and nodding grimly.

"We'd gone out to a rural village, to assess a few kids for cleft palate correction. There was a mud slide on the only road out of the valley, and we wound up stuck there for a few days."

“What—” Steve realizes he’s nearly whispering. He firms up his voice. “What happened?”

“I was served a meal from a local family, already cooked.”

“Oh." Steve exhales in relief. "So then, you didn’t actually see—”

“No.” James cants his head. “But it wasn’t any meat I’d ever had before. It was …” He trails off, eyes going distant as he thinks about it. “It was so different.”

Steve stares at him, shocked. “But … but that's a big leap. I mean it could’ve been anything. Dog or ... or tiger. Don’t they have tigers in China?”

“Not in that part of the country.” James watches Steve closely for a moment, gauging his reaction. Eventually he looks away, frowning. “And you could tell there was something going on. There was ... At the time, I didn't understand, but it was the way the villagers acted. There was something off about them, something about the way they skulked around, the way they looked at us. How gaunt they all were ..." He shakes his head, deep in thought. "I did some research once I got back. There are some recorded accounts; those soccer players that crashed in the Andes, the Donner party. An anthropologist in the thirties who ate with a tribe in Africa. He wrote a very detailed account of how the different cuts of the meat tasted, what it looked like, what it smelled like.” He inhales deeply, as though pulling himself out of the memory. When his gaze lands back on Steve, it's dead serious and shockingly nonchalant. “It all matched up to what I’d eaten.”

Steve gapes, horrified. He can’t believe that it was a … a human that James had been served. It was too awful. People wouldn’t do that. ... Would they? “It wasn’t,” he says, as if he can make it so by saying it. “They wouldn’t have.”

James still doesn’t seem bothered, though he has pity in his eyes for Steve, apparently able to see how shaken he is by it. “You gotta understand, it was a bad situation. A dead, closed off valley where nothing ever grew. The Chinese government had banished these people out there for some slight, blocked off their access to food. It was like a gulag. These people were living in extreme poverty: cold, sick, and halfway starving. Animals'll do anything when they’re starving."

"Animals ..."

He shrugs and sits back in his chair. "At the end of the day, that’s all we really are. Some very big, overly-clever animals.”

Steve swallows thickly, his throat suddenly dry. He reaches for his beer and takes a hasty swig. “How do you, um, how do you deal with it, then?” he asks. “If you really think that’s what it was?” He’s a little bit stunned by how calm James has remained through telling the whole story.

“It doesn’t bother me,” James says easily. “There’s no way I can know for sure that’s what I ate that day, and I didn’t do it on purpose.” He shrugs and waves it off. “It was so long ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Wow,” Steve says, stunned. “I mean, just … no. And wow.”

“Pretty big secret, huh?”

“Yeah,” Steve mutters, trying to lighten up. James isn’t dwelling on it and he probably doesn’t want Steve to, either. “Yeah, you have, um. Much juicier secrets than me.”

James tips his bottle back for the last dregs of his beer, then clacks it firmly down onto the table. “So,” he says, eyes regaining their challenging, sly glint. “Now that you know my deepest, darkest secret; want to throw another round?”

A few days later, at precisely 11:30 am, Steve receives a text:

Weird Meat Guy: Hey you. I’m starving. Want to grab lunch with me?”

Steve looks down at his dirty work clothes. Yikes. Knowing himself, he figures there's a good chance he also has paint in his hair or on his face, or both.

Steve: yeah sounds good. In 30 or so? Gotta wash up.

Weird Meat Guy: see you soon, handsome.

James texts him an address that's in Park Slope, followed by a cartoon ‘nom-nom’ eating GIF. Steve holds his phone with gesso-crusted fingers and beams at the screen. James must like Steve just as much as Steve likes him, because he’s thinking about him during the week. He’s texting him and sending stupid GIFs and asking him out on lunch dates.

This is going incredibly well.

It's nothing fancy, which Steve appreciates. They meet inside a Panera by Prospect Park. They order drinks and find chairs to sit in by the windows while their sandwiches are made. “Don't you work in Midtown though?” Steve asks, confused. “This is a bit of a hike for a lunch break.”

James stares at him for a long few seconds, blinking repeatedly. “... Oh! Well … I had a big gap between clients today.” He smiles winningly and covers Steve’s hand with his own on the tabletop, giving it a squeeze. “There’s nobody I’d rather make the hike for.”

Steve tries not to let his smile overtake his face, but it’s hard.

Their food arrives, and they eat while trading stories about themselves. Steve tells James how he lives and works alone, but doesn’t mind it one bit. He tells him about his family, or at least, what family he used to have.

“So, nobody?” James asks. “You’re all alone?”

“It’s okay,” Steve says, thinking that James might be feeling pity for him. “I miss my mom, but it’s been a long time. And I’ve made a couple friends. They help.”

“Oh yeah? Who're your friends?”

“Oh. Well there's Clint. We met back in college. And Natalie. She’s the one I told you about.”

“Your patron.” James nods. “I remember.” He leans forward. “So do they know about me?”

“Yeah.”

“What did you tell them about me?”

Steve smirks. “Oh I dunno. Just that I met a really good looking weirdo at the grocery store. Haven’t called the police on him yet.”

James laughs. “That’s all?”

“Pretty much.” Steve shrugs and takes another bite of his sandwich, unconcerned with it. “Clint says he respects you for being able to—and I quote—‘pull people’s skin off and rearrange their outsides’.”

James’ lips quirk. “Well, it is a skill.”

Steve shivers theatrically. “Uck. Power to you. I guess somebody’s gotta do it."

"Alas, yes. The meat market. Demand is only ever growing."

Steve snorts. "Well hey, at least it means you’re, ah … intimately familiar with anatomy.” He winces before he's even finished saying it. Ew, what a lame joke.

But James’s eyes crinkle in amusement anyway. “Yes," he says, reaching for his sandwich again. "I certainly am.”

Steve has James over to Netflix and Chill. He’s not sure if this counts as their sixth date or seventh, but they’ve been seeing each other steadily for the past three weeks, calling and texting daily, so it’s definitely not too soon to start thinking about the “R” word. That’s where it feels like this is headed, but Steve is too chickenshit to speak up and ask if they’re officially in a relationship.

He researches how to make eggplant parmesan and mostly doesn’t screw it up, and James seems touched that he went through the trouble of cooking something vegetarian for him.

“It’s delicious,” he reassures Steve. “I even like the crusty black bits.”

He asks Steve what he does for fun, and Steve is once again left feeling like a boring dolt when he can only answer, “I mean, I really just paint or draw, or watch tv. Clint tries to drag me out for bowling or karaoke once in a while.” He fights not to wince at himself. Jesus god is he boring. He thinks again about joining a gym, maybe getting into boxing or Krav Maga or something. “What about you?” he asks. “What do you do when you’re not carving people up?”

“Hardy har.” James thinks about it. “Well, I do love to do stuff outdoors. I work out ...”

“Yeah you do,” Steve teases, leering a little. James laughs him off.

“I read some, usually have two books going concurrently.”

Steve imagines James having a big, expensive library, complete with those nifty rolling ladders.

“And I’m a pretty good cook,” he adds. “I enjoy it. Working on being an amateur cuisinier, as I said.”

Steve pointedly looks at both of their plates of semi-burnt eggplant slop. “Then why am I the one making us dinner?”

James chuckles, leans across the table to kiss him on the cheek, and promises he’ll cook for Steve sometime soon.

After dinner, Steve pulls up his Netflix queue and scrolls through for something that looks good but not too good, since they’ll probably start fooling around partway through and miss half of it.

They watch a documentary about Richard Ramirez, which Steve apologizes for. (“I know, I know. Me and every other basic white girl likes the true crime stuff.”)

Halfway into Ramirez’s fucked up childhood, Steve says, “Man, what would you do if your kid turned out like that, huh?”

“Question my parenting choices, that’s for sure.”

“I know, right?" Steve shudders. "I feel so bad for Jeffry Dahmer’s mom.”

“Why? She’s alive and kicking. Feel bad for Ed Gein’s mom: pretty sure she’s a lampshade now.”

“Christ.”

James looks over at Steve. “Do you want kids?”

Steve freezes, the unexpected change in topic throwing him for a loop. “Um …” Not ones that'll turn me into a lampshade, he doesn't say.

This is something they haven’t done yet; asked each other what they want for their lives long-term. Because such questions naturally infer that they might be considering each other for a starring role in said life.

Steve swallows heavily and works up the courage to softly admit, “Yeah, one day I do.” He dares to meet James’ eyes, and is relieved when he doesn’t see any rejection there. “I want what most people do, I guess. Get married, have kids.” He shrugs. “The American dream, right?”

“What? No white picket fence and a dog named Fido?”

Steve deflates a little. “Don’t make fun.”

“I wasn’t.” James scoots closer and puts his arm around him. “Hey. No, Honey. I wasn’t making fun of you. I want that stuff too.”

“You do?”

“Mmhm.” He kisses Steve's cheek. “I’m glad you told me,” he says. “Makes you even more of the perfect catch.”

Steve snorts. "Yeah. Sure."

James is the perfect catch, Steve is just incredibly lucky.

James has to go on a sudden work trip, and it's a solid week that they're apart.

The next time he comes over to Steve's place, he’s barely in the door before Steve is slamming it shut and pushing him up against the wall. He sinks to his knees and looks up at James, whose eyes have gone from widened to heavy-lidded in seconds. "Hey."

James smiles lazily and cups his cheek. “Hey there.”

Steve touches him over his jeans, starts rubbing slow and purposeful. After a moment or two, James gets hard enough that he can feel it through the denim. He knees in closer, pushes his face into his groin and rubs his cheek along the bulge of his dick.

James’ hands migrate to his head, running through his hair, over his scalp. “Mm,” he hums, amused. “Did you miss me, Sweetheart?”

It’s been little more than a week apart, but Steve has missed him embarrassingly much. He makes a plaintive noise against James’ crotch and nods. “Yeah.” He’s barely heard from the other man. He doesn’t want to complain though, because it’s still early for them and he doesn’t want to seem too needy.

James had warned him he’d be very busy working and mostly unreachable. He'd had to take a flight out for a surgery consult somewhere—Steve can’t remember where. It doesn’t matter. He’s just glad James is back. He looks up from his spot on the floor, batting his eyelashes and reaching for the front of James’ pants. “Can I?”

James grins and relaxes back against the wall. “All yours,” he says, watching Steve like he’s ready for a show. Steve flushes in a heady mix of arousal and shyness. He tucks his lips in as his fingers find the button at James’ fly, pop it open and pull down the zipper. He curls his fingers over the waistband at James’ hips and pulls, until the jeans are halfway down his thighs. He stops.

James is wearing briefs today—white, and with a waistband that has black lettering: Calvin Klein. Steve grins as arousal hits him harder, his own dick stirring in his sweats. “Tighty-whities, huh?” he teases, and when he looks up, he sees James looking down at him, amused.

“What? You don’t approve?”

“Oh, I approve.” He presses his face against the front, against the hardening line of James’ dick beneath the fabric. What he really likes is to see it get hard from the very start, and he's already making a plan to have James naked for this from the get-go, next time. He palms the soft weight of James’ balls through the fabric while placing kisses along the length of his stirring dick. “Been wanting to do this since that first night,” he murmurs. He rubs his other hand over him, circling the wet spot just by the head. “You've got such a nice cock.”

James makes a pleased noise. “Why don’t you get it out, then?” he says softly, one hand cupping Steve’s chin. His thumb pulls down on Steve’s bottom lip. “I want to see your pretty mouth stretchin' around it.”

Steve moans quietly and nods, fingers hurrying to pull his underwear down. James’ cock bobs obscenely in the air once it’s released, still angled downward from the weight of it and from only being half hard. Steve licks his lips, excited at finally getting to really appreciate it up close. He hasn’t had much chance yet, but he’s seen it, knows that it's beautiful.

James is big—as big a top can get before it becomes counterproductive, in Steve's opinion. A respectable length, with a truly mouth watering girth. His balls are soft and warm in Steve’s palm where he holds them. James is shaved there, while everything else is trimmed down short. "Sir," Steve teases, fondling the smooth weight of his balls. "I may just have to wind up sucking on these."

Above him, James chuckles lowly. "Gotta do what you gotta do, Steven. I won't hold it against ya."

Fuck. What is it about James saying his given name like that? It's so hot, feels almost dirty. Steve can't hold back anymore. He takes his cock in hand and explores it with the gentlest of touches, tracing a prominent vein that runs underneath and up along the side, circling his finger on the wet head that’s peeking out, just barely pressing the tip of his thumb into the slit. He bites his lip as it twitches and jerks. Fuck. It’s fucking beautiful.

Above, James makes a sound in his throat, and when Steve looks up he sees him looking darkly amused. “You sure are taking your sweet time with that, Princess.”

Ooh, Princess. That’s a new one. Steve smirks. “I can take all the time I want.”

He says that, but in the next few seconds he’s already lost his patience, too eager for more. He wants to feel it on his tongue, wants to taste it. He sucks the head into his mouth and is rewarded by James’ quiet groan.

“That’s it,” he praises. “Mm.”

Steve sucks him, swirling his tongue over the head and pulling gently with his hand, jerking him off a little while he sucks. He keeps it up, feeling James twitch and grow in his mouth, until he’s fully erect, and Steve just has to pop off to see. His own hand looks tiny and pale on James' dick. He jerks him softly and groans at the sight of the foreskin sliding over the weeping, fat tip. God, Steve loves uncut guys.

James is watching him with heavy eyes, his lips slightly parted, enthralled at the sight of Steve exploring down between his legs. Steve smirks up at him and looks him in the eye as he kisses along his thigh, hipbone, pelvis; all the way up to his stomach and belly button and back down. He rubs his cheek on the hot juncture of his groin and returns to stroking his cock at a languorous pace. “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs. “Could do this all day.”

“Oh yeah?” James cards a hand through Steve’s hair—a hand that Steve is very smug to note is trembling the tiniest bit—and leaves it there, caressing his scalp. “Can you go deeper?” he asks quietly, offering it up rather than demanding it.

Steve appreciates the concern, but he’s eager to show off. “‘Can I go deeper’,” he mutters, scoffing. “Hold onto your dick, Honey. This is gonna feel really good.” He sucks James’ cock back into his mouth, only this time he keeps going, taking it all the way until it's in his throat and his nose is buried in the short hair at the base.

Above him, James finally loses his composure, his breath stuttering out in a stifled, “Oh, fuck.”

Steve hums eagerly. He grabs onto the back of James’ thighs and squeezes, uses the grip to yank him even closer. He slides his hands up and grabs at his ass, able to feel the muscles tensing and relaxing as James tries so hard not to thrust into his mouth. Steve pulls off and meets his eyes. “You want to fuck my face?” he asks, eager to give James whatever he wants. “You can.”

James looks utterly smitten. He hooks his thumb in at the corner of Steve’s mouth and pulls gently. “Sweet boy,” he murmurs. Steve’s about to take that as a ‘yes’, but then James tells him otherwise. “Another time,” he says. “Right now I just want to watch you work for it.”

Steve’s belly flips in arousal. Fucking hell. He reaches down to squeeze his own dick, which is painfully constricted in his sweatpants by now. He mostly ignores it though, wanting to put all his focus into pleasing James and pulling more wrecked sounds of pleasure from him. This is a relationship Steve really wants to go the distance in, okay? So he shoots James his best sultry look while wettings his lips, and then sinks right back down with eye contact, prepared to give this man the best head of his life.

They shower together, after coming from each other’s hands and mouths. It’s an intimate experience, standing naked and sated together under the spray of the water, touching each other’s bodies without intent. It’s almost more intimate than the sex they’ve just had.

Steve shivers and luxuriates in it as James stands behind him and runs water-slicked hands over his body, not speaking, just enjoying what he’s touching. He kneads the meat of Steve’s ass, his thighs, draws soapy-slick circles down his ribs and across his belly. He kisses and mouths at his neck as he touches him all over. “Beautiful,” he murmurs, and that’s the only word uttered between them for the entirety of the shower.

Later, when they’re sitting together on the couch, drinking wine and talking lazily with nothing but towels wrapped around their waists, James describes his apartment in Manhattan. It’s centrally located but small, because “real estate in the city is sickening.”

“Tell me about it,” Steve murmurs, giving his own shoebox of an apartment a onceover.

James insists that he spends as little time in the city as possible. His preferred residence (because of course he has multiple) is “in the wilderness.”

“Jersey?” Steve asks, lip curled in a sneer.

“Oh no! A little more wild than that,” James laughs, pouring more wine into the glass Steve’s holding out. “It’s out in the Catskills," he confides. "My secret cabin."

"The Catskills?" Steve frowns, trying to think of how long of a drive that must be. “I’ve never been."

“Oh you’d love it,” James insists. “It’s gorgeous out there. Miles and miles of trees. Peace and quiet, no neighbors to bother you.” He smiles wistfully. “It’s the one place I can really let go and relax, be myself. It’s my retreat.”

“It sounds wonderful,” Steve says. James looks so happy when he talks about it, it makes Steve want to go there with him. “Will you take me there someday?” he asks. He’s very aware that the question implies that they’ll still be together down the line. That this thing they have, whatever it is, will continue.

James considers him thoughtfully, though, eyes soft and mysterious, not seeming to mind that Steve is envisioning them in the future. He peers at him in that intense, evaluating way that he has. “Well,” he says. "I mean why not? That'd be fun. Let’s do it.”

“Wait, what? Do it?” Steve repeats, surprised. “You mean like a trip? Like, now?"

“Yeah!" James laughs. “We can go for a few days. I’ll drive us out there and we can just relax together. Cook, watch movies. There’s hiking around the area. And I have a hot tub.”

Steve gasps. “I love hot tubs!”

James laughs and holds out his arms for Steve to climb into his lap. He wraps his arms around him and kisses him. “Okay then, it’s settled. When do you want to go?”

Steve tries to remember his work schedule for that next week, but his thoughts are a little slowed by the warm and gooey feelings he’s got filling him up. James wants to spend a weekend with him. He wants to take him away, show him his favorite place. Steve squirms happily in the other man's lap and tucks his face into his neck, inhaling the rich, clean scent of him and pleased as punch, because this means that James really likes him, and maybe even wants to make him a part of his life.

Jesus Christ, maybe Steve's actually, finally done it. Maybe he really has managed to scoop up the last remaining, non-married, high-value homosexual who actually wants to be in a serious relationship.

It's too good to be true!

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[swadloom]

I was curious what the crew's files said so I took pictures. Taken from my tablet so they're not the best. Some of this is stuff that's already revealed or contextualized in this magazine (shoutout to @atlantis-archive for his super cool work) but there's interesting stuff in there nonetheless, like Vinny's explosion incident happening when he was fairly young and what's shown of Mole's past being more tame than Sweet made it out to be (though maybe the sewer exploration just grosses him out, I can see that being something Sweet would be disgusted by as a cleanly doctor and Audrey wouldn't care as much about.)

Unfortunately Vinny and Packard have a lot of their information blocked out and there's barely anything for Rourke at all, I wonder if it's intentional since it makes Rourke more ominous, Packard has a more minor comedic role, and being forced to wonder how many times Vinny got sent to jail is pretty funny.

Transcription under cut. Brackets means I'm interpereting a word that's cut off, question marks means that I'm not sure if I got it right or what it means, and parethesis are for adding context or my own personal commentary or analysis of their backstories. If anyone has any context for some things mentioned that they think they could explain (like place names or historical context), that would be appreciated!

GARTAN MOLIERE Mineralogist and [Excavator] 39 [Birthplace]: Paris, France [Parents:] Christef and Gabrielle Moliere [Expertise:] Extensive knowledge of… the new science of tectonics. Advise… National du France (?), Ottoman Mining, Aus… New South Wales Coal, Slate and Granite… American Coal and Lumber. Has developed… independent mining and excavation vehicle… related equipment. Holds patents on… Acute senses, particularly taste and… enable… to correctly identify any type of… soil… benefit or aid of any scientific… 98.7… time.

Background: [Gartan]… working family, the [young?]… parents were teachers… courses at the Sorbonne… music teacher. Gartan [discovered?]… subterranean pursuits at the… exploring the vast sever [networks]… Paris. By the age of 13, [Moliere]… specialized type of goggles… exploring caves in the surrounding… and catacombs held no [fun?]… He entered Sorbonne at… opportunity to… mining company…

(it sounds like one of his parents was a music teacher at the same college he went to, which is fun to think about.)

VINCENZO [SANTORINI] Explosives and [Demolition] [Palermo], Italy …and Fabiela Santorini (father’s name unknown) …elance (no idea what the word after this that starts with M is, maybe a place in Italy?) …ining 190(?)…[1903] 1903- (dash indicates a range of dates)… Demolitions; Delphi… (?) 1909, Bachelor’s… Delphi Prison… 1910, Technical Overseer… Hardrock Blasting… 1913.

…“Vinny” Santorini is the eldest… ela Santorini (only have “ela” to work from, so this could also be the name of one of his siblings). The parents own… [specializes] in floral arrangement… to an unfortunate, and to… the Santorini family was… [business?]. Young Vincenzo seemed… fascination for fire, and… small boy… blazes. …became… began… 18. By…

(He would have been around 27 in 1903, I’m guessing it might be a range of time that he was in jail. Also he’s apparently been arrested in Greece, so he might have been on the run too. I wonder from the companies mentioned if Vinny worked as a professional demolitionist but would overdo it just for the excitement and cause serious damage) (He’s mentioned as teaching himself about explosives all on his own in the scan, and also the incident that drew him away from the flower business was when he was too young to have finished college unless he’s a huge savant like Milo, so I’m guessing the mentions of degrees are ones that his parents have in botany-related subjects. I like the implication that he comes from a well-educated family and is probably very smart himself but ended up not liking the business he had to be a part of as a kid and instead putting that energy into blowing stuff up)

[AUDREY] ROCIO RAMIREZ [Chief] Mechanic [Michigan] (Parents names are blocked out, though Manuel can be seen later) …in her… assistant… for [mechanical/mechanics]… at age of… age of… orvisery(?) [position] at age 11. …with fledgling… Credited with developing… method 1909. Developed… oling(?) system 1910. …drive gears 1910. …Reduction-Gear Steering …[Master] Mechanic Manuel… [Industries], Audrey Rocia… from the time she… months, she could… any clock in the… Ana Ramirez found… any lock she… of trying to keep… that no matter

(Master Mechanic Manuel sounds plausible for the name of her father’s business. He’s characterized as somewhat self-centered along with how Audrey talks about him in the movie, she also seems to look up to her sister more than him with how she talks about her and has probably learned some about fighting from her. I can see him contributing to her tough attitude. Unknown if Ana is the name of her mother or sister.)

[STRONGBEAR SWEET] [Medical] Officer …Jerika [Sweet] [Internal Medicine?]… … .D. [University]… 189(?)… Medic… with… until 1901, acting as… Roosevelt's personal… during the Kettle and… [instrumental] in treatment of… in disease-ridden… ceased… Received no… [personal] letter from… [knowledge] of Arapho and… by his maternal (assuming uncle)… and studied… 1905. Traveled to… at Prins Oklahoma and… at Baxter

…in Fort Phil (Kearny?)… Pine Ridge

(I tried looking up Kansas universities that might fit with what’s cut off, seems like most likely he went to college out of state. ?.D. university… My best guesses are the universities of Idaho, South Dakota, or North Dakota. The University of Idaho may have been too young at the time to be a candidate, he would have been 27 already when it was established.) (if anyone knows what “the Kettle” is referring to please let me know!) (Side note, the mention in the scan of Sweet caring for people on both sides of the battle, presumably the Spanish-American war, calls to mind how Sweet seems to distrust Rourke’s motives but still tags along to be a doctor for the team. He’s so underrated I love Sweet so much.)

(Packard’s page, first angle:) [phone] in 1888… [professional]… ment(?) of work. …known… 1893. …1898-1901. …Worked… 1902-04. …1902. …1903. …[develop Radar]… (Packard’s page, second angle:) …[BERTHA] PACKARD [Communications?] Officer Cudot (parent name) …1875… of… [communication]… full… brating(?) Telephone in 1888… Secured congressional… (not much to gather from this one except that she seems to have been working with researchers and communication technology all her life, since she was 22. Could explain why she’s so nonchalant about her job by now.)

(Rourke’s page:) …life of… “C”… Golden… became… Also… (I wonder what “C” means, perhaps a codename? I'm assuming Golden refers to some kind of reward from the military.)

[nsfwhiphop]

Incoming Text for @rosariodawson : I encourage you to sue me.

Hey Rosario!

I just saw your reblog, and you asked me to stop mentioning your name. I also noticed you left a few insults in there, like saying I belong in a lunatic asylum. Why don't you send me your lawyers, and we’ll see which of us will be sent to jail? I dare you.

No one is afraid of your weak ass clique, so shut the f**k up and sue me if you dare. But make sure you have proof, because if you fail to prove your theory in the courtroom, guess who will be the lunatic who will be sent to an insane asylum? It’s you, my dear Rosario.

You can insult me all you want. I wish I gave a f**k about what you and your dumb ass clique think of me. You claim to be smart people, and you are all here talking sh*t about a guy you have never even met face to face. Who’s dumb here and who’s smart? Take a guess—it’s you again, my dear Rosario. You are the dumbwhore who listens to other dumbfucks and tries to slander my name.

You can’t be saying big words like “lunatic” or “insane asylum” to discredit me in front of your dumb ass clique without proving it. Can you prove your theory? That is what you will be asked in front of a judge. Can you prove that Angelo is a lunatic? Can you prove that Angelo belongs in an insane asylum? If you fail to prove your theory, guess what happens? Angelo will make sure that you are sent to jail for slandering an honorable man, you dumb whore.

Never underestimate me. I’m doing you a favor because you are so broke, you suck c**k to get acting gigs in Hollywood. I know your struggles, and despite my argument with you at this very moment, I will always forgive you and never be mad at you because I care about your well-being. You are a righteous person, even if we argue and fight from time to time.

You came at me, you started this rap beef, so I had to battle rap my way out of your slanderous attacks.

It’s easy to attack someone that you don’t understand. It’s the easiest way to choose the slanderous way out instead of choosing to put your thinking cap on and ponder, think, meditate on what you just heard and saw. And you all wonder why I never share my alien knowledge with you stupid humans. How stupid are you people?

Just because something shocked you, just because something didn’t make sense to you, doesn’t mean that it isn’t real. So remember this next time: if you see something that challenges your way of seeing things, take a step back and think before you insult the honor of the alien you have in front of you. Don’t do this again, or I will never respect you again. You have been forewarned.

You are reading my words, and you see it. You are a witness that I’m very sane. I’m a savant. You insult my honor when you use words like “lunatic” and “insane asylum.” You should think before you utter such words in my presence next time, or I swear, I will never even look in your direction again. I’m a very kind person, but I have no tolerance for ignorant people who insult my dignity and honor. That’s how you start to lose all my respect. I hope my message was clear. Beware of your words; they can make me block you from my proximity.

Also, I want to help you understand something about me. I don’t care if you believe it or not. The world doesn’t revolve around you, my dear Rosario, so next time you try to give us your dumb ass opinion, think about how no one gives a fuck about what you think. You are a dumb whore who sells coochie to get acting gigs with Star Wars. Get the fuck outta here with your weak ass disrespect.

How you like me now? You are a whore telling me that I should be in an insane aylum, do you see where I'm going with this?

You come at me, you better be prepared for my rebuttal. Allow me to retort, you stupid whore.

I know my words hurt you. Now you know how words have the power to hurt. Next time, think before you use disrespectful words like “lunatic” and “insane asylum.” You are repeating the words of white supremacist haters, and trust me when I tell you, it doesn’t make you look good at all. It only shows me that you worship white c**k.

Only a white c**k would say such disrespectful things to me, and when you repeat those words, I know you are worshipping white c**k.

Good luck with your bum ass life, you dumb whore.

Last question for you: Did you ever ask yourself why I never gave any money to Rosario and Zoe?

Because you are disrespectful and listen to white c**ks that you worship. Good luck with that. Bye, Felicia.

Okay, this chat was way fun.

Angelo.

P.S.:

Synopsis of the letter:

Angelo angrily addresses Rosario, reacting to her reblog that included insults and accusations of him being a lunatic. He challenges her to sue him and warns that she needs proof to support her claims in court. Angelo criticizes Rosario and her clique for slandering him without knowing him personally and for relying on insults rather than understanding him. He emphasizes his intelligence and sanity, defending his honor and expressing frustration with Rosario's disrespectful words. Angelo warns her to be mindful of her language in the future, asserting his refusal to tolerate ignorance and insults. He concludes by explaining his indifference to her opinions and insults, attributing them to her struggles and choices in Hollywood. He ends with a final rebuke, questioning her integrity and explaining his lack of financial support for her due to her disrespect.

[grailfinders]

Fate and Phantasms #188

Today on Fate and Phantasms we’re building the greatest robot ever built in Sengoku period Japan, Katou “Black Kite” Danzo! This amazing automaton is a Thief Rogue to speed up her limbs and get some ninja mobility, as well as an Alchemist Artificer so she can really fly, make objects disappear and reappear, and even make those awful rice balls.

Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!

Next up: Welcome to the CHK!

Race and Background

Danzo’s a Karakuri Puppet, but D&D races don’t get that specific, so we’ll just have to call her a Warforged instead. This gives her +2 Constitution and +1 in any other ability, and we want Dexterity. Her Constructed Resilience gives advantage on saves against being poisoned, and she gets resistance to poison damage. She also doesn’t need to eat, drink, breathe, or sleep, and she can’t get sick. As a bonus, this means she doesn’t need to take any of the Fuuma clan’s medicine, thank god.

She still has to take long rests though, but a Sentry’s Rest reduces the time to six hours. You’re still conscious, but you can’t move if you want the rest.

Thanks to your wooden body, you can use Integrated Protection to fuse yourself into your armor, granting you a +1 bonus to AC, and preventing it from being removed against your will. Your Specialized Design also gives you proficiency with Medicine and Woodcarver’s Tools.

Like Paraiso, you’re also a magic assassin, so Volstrucker Agent is pretty accurate. This background gives you proficiency with Deception and Stealth.

Ability Scores

As usual, we’re using the standard array for maximum replicability. From high to low:

Still a ninja, still starting with a really high Dexterity. Unlike Kotarou, your ninja tricks come from your Intelligence. Also, you’re a robot; you’ve got to be pretty smart to know how you work, and you have a big chunk of the Fuuma clan’s history stuck in your head. Third is Constitution- you’ll happily sit in a cave for several centuries and not die, which is pretty impressive. Your Wisdom is above average, because I can’t think of anything specific you do that uses wisdom, but it’s still probably better than a regular person’s. Your Strength is probably lower than it should be, but it’s not like we really need it that much. That means we’re dumping Charisma. You don’t really “get” people that well.

Class Levels

Artificer 1: Starting off as an artificer is pretty neat, giving you proficiency with Constitution and Intelligence saves, as well as two artificer skills- Arcana is the closest thing we have to science in D&D, and Sleight of Hand will probably help with the bull swallowing we’ve got to do later. You also get Magical Tinkering when you start out, letting you tack minor magical effects onto tiny objects. A pebble that constantly sounds like someone walking around is a useful distraction. Despite artificers being a half casting class, they also get Spells this level, which you can cast and prepare using your Intelligence. For cantrips, I suggest picking up Mending to patch yourself up, as well as Create Bonfire for a quick and easy firestarter. Literally setting places on fire is also a great distraction, if a bit more obvious. For first level spells, I suggest picking up the classic suite of “barely spells” spells, like Grease, Alarm, and Snare. You should also grab Cure Wounds for some quick and dirty rice balls, as well as Jump and Feather Fall for Katou Danzo’s wind manipulation. There aren’t many offensive options for wind in D&D, but I can promise you’ll be very mobile by the end of this build.

Artificer 2: The big reason we started as an artificer is to grab Infused Items as quickly as possible. Starting at this level you can hold onto four blueprints for magic items, and can make up to two of them at a time, switching them out between long rests. Now you can make a Bag of Holding for some real bull swallowing (not literally though, those suckers are several times your weight limit), a Rope of Climbing for a grappling hook that attaches itself, a Returning Weapon so you’re not stuck picking up your kunai after every fight, or you can apply Enhanced Defense on some armor for even more AC.

Rogue 1: Now that your initial ninja tricks are set up, we still have to, y’know, get good at ninjaing. (Ninjing? Whatever.) Bouncing over to rogue gives you Investigation proficiency for expert analysis plus Thieves’ Tools for dismantling traps, as well as Expertise in Acrobatics and Stealth for double proficiency bonuses on all your ninja techniques. You also get a Sneak Attack once per turn, dealing an extra 1d6 damage to your target while using a finesse weapon and if you either have advantage on the attack, or have an ally within 5 feet of them. Also also, you get Thieves’ Cant. It’s a language.

Rogue 2: Second level rogues get a speed boost thanks to Cunning Action. Now you can use your bonus action to Dash, Disengage, or Hide. All very ninja-y, I assure you.

Rogue 3: Going into the Thief subclass lets you overclock yourself even further thanks to your Fast Hands. Now your cunning action lets you make sleight of hands checks, use thieves’ tools, or use objects as a bonus action. Plus, your sneak attack is 2d6 now! You’re also accustomed to Second-Story Work, so you climb as quickly as you walk, and your running jumps get boosted by your dexterity modifier. Combining this with Jump starts your ascent into a proper Black Kite- with a running start you can jump almost 40′ across, or almost 20′ straight up. You can also jump over most humanoids, clearing seven and a half feet on long jumps.

Rogue 4: Use your first Ability Score Improvement to bump up your Intelligence for stronger artificer spells and medicines.

Artificer 3: Now that we’ve got a base level of ninjositude down, we can bounce back to artificer for more clever tricks. Right off the bat, you can always create The Right Tool for the Job over the course of a short rest, though you can only make one kind of tool at a time. (If you make new tools, the old ones get jealous and leave, I guess.) You also get goodies exclusive to the Alchemist subclass though, like proficiency with Alchemist’s Tools, Healing Word and Ray of Sickness as prepared spells, and the ability to craft Experimental Elixirs. When you finish a long rest, you can make one such elixir, with a random effect you find out when you create it. There’s a lot, so I’m not going to list them all here. The elixir only lasts until your next long rest, so you can’t stock up. That being said, you can create more elixirs at a time as you level up.

Artificer 4: Use this ASI for more Dexterity, for more accurate and deadly kunai strikes.

Artificer 5: Fifth level alchemists become Alchemical Savants, adding their intelligence modifier to spells that heal or deal acid, fire, necrotic, or poison damage. Playing to character means you won’t be using this much aside from the healing, but you also get second level spells! You get Flaming Sphere and Melf’s Acid Arrow for free, but we’re here more for the other spells you can prepare, like grabbing Levitate for some discount flight (hey, if you use your rope of climbing to grapple onto things you can probably get some good speed going...), Invisibility for better bull swallowing that can actually swallow a bull, Enhance Ability to just try a little harder, and Blur for some swirly wind nonsense that makes you harder to fight. If King Arthur can do it, so can you.

Artificer 6: Sixth level artificers get Tool Expertise, doubling your proficiency with any tool check you’re already proficient in. You can also cast Message at this point because you’ve worked in Chaldea too long for them to not give you a freaking walkie talkie, and you learn two more item infusions, and you can build one more at a time. Boots of Elvenkind will silence your footsteps, and Boots of the Winding Path can help you ninja vanish back along the steps you took this turn. There’s an obvious problem that you can’t wear both sets at once, but you’re probably not even making both at once, so...

Artificer 7: Seventh level artificers get Flashes of Genius, letting you add your intelligence modifier to an ability check or saving throw happening within 30 feet of you. You can use this Intelligence Modifier times per long rest. If scifi has taught me anything, all robots are calculating the seven billion ways an event could go at any one time, so finding the three that lead to success shouldn’t be that hard.

Rogue 5: Bouncing back to rogue for a bit brings your sneak attack up to 3d6, and also unlocks your Uncanny Dodge, spending your reaction to halve the damage of an attack coming your way.

Rogue 6: Sixth level rogues get another round of Expertise, so double down on Investigation and Arcana for extra robosmarts.

Rogue 7: Your sneak attack gets as good as it ever will at 4d6, and you learn Evasion, supercharging your dexterity saves. Successes completely negate damage, and failures only deal half damage. Just... don’t stand in the fireball. Why do so few people get that?

Artificer 8: We’re back in artificer to stay now, so bump up that Intelligence for stronger spells as well as more and stronger flashes of genius.

Artificer 9: Ninth level alchemists stick Restorative Reagents in their medicines, adding 2d6+ your intelligence modifier temporary hit points to your experimental elixirs, regardless of their other effects. You also learn how to cast Lesser Restoration Intelligence Modifier times per long rest without using spell slots. The Fuuma clan’s medicines are effective, if nothing else. You also learn how to cast third level spells, like Mass Healing Word and Gaseous Form. I mean, I guess the latter spell is flying, but it’s not Fly flying, you get me? You can also use Tiny Servant to create puppets of your own, Water Walk to walk on water like the ninja you are, as well as Haste and Blink to supercharge your mobility.

Artificer 10: Tenth level artificers are Magic Item Adepts, letting you attune to one more magic item at once, and you can craft common or uncommon magic items faster and cheaper. You also get two more blueprints for infused items, and one more you can make at a given time. Boots of Striding and Springing will make your jumps even more ridiculous, and the Ring of Jumping will clear up some prep space and save you a spell slot or two. Using both of those items at the same time basically let you fly without the spell, letting you jump 120 feet forward or 63 feet straight up, and your long jumps can pass over obstacles that are 22 feet tall. You can leap small buildings in a single bound.

Artificer 11: At eleventh level, artificers can create Spell-Storing Items, stuffing magic into weapons or spell focuses. You can stick a 1st or 2nd level spell in the object, and creatures can cast the spell from that object using your spellcasting modifier and the creature’s concentration. The item holds 2xIntelligence Modifier charges, but you can only have one SSI at a time.

Artificer 12: Use your last ASI to max out your Intelligence for super strong spells, better Flashes of Genius, and more Spells in your items!

Artificer 13: Your capstone level gets you fourth level artificer spells, like the freebies Blight and Death Ward. You can also use these slots to cast spells like Leomund’s Secret Chest for more effective bull swallowing. The bag of holding can still be messed with, and turning stuff invisible doesn’t get rid of it, but the Secret Chest will just hang out in a different dimension til you need it again. Also, you only have to cast it once every two months! You can also Summon Construct to make your own dolls to help out in combat. Sadly there isn’t a wood option, but this is as close as we’re gonna get.

Pros and Cons

Pros:

Flying is good. Like, really good. And you’re so mobile you can fly without flying. You’re so good at jumping you take falling damage just by making a long jump.

With your expertise, enhanced ability, and flashes of genius, you can be pretty good at most skills if you really need to be.

Artificers make really cool toys, but most are limited by only having one action per turn. Thanks to your fast hands, you can make even better use of your infusions by using your bonus actions to either double up on item uses or multitask.

Cons:

We didn’t take that many levels of rogue, so your damage is a lot lower than your fleshier ninja counterparts.

While your magic and infused items are useful, they all get shut down immediately in anti-magic zones, giving you a big weak point most DMs won’t hesitate to smash.

While I wouldn’t call having extraneous spells a weakness, especially from a player’s perspective, it is kinda sloppy building on our end. Outside of healing word you really wouldn’t use the other subclass spells you get if you’re playing to character.

[gayenerd]

This comes from a 2004 interview Billie did with something called Instinct Magazine, a LGBTQ site/magazine, and it is not archived on their site because of course it isn’t. 

IDIOT'S SAVANT

Thank You Billie Joe Armstrong & Co. For Speaking Out - And Letting Us Sing Along (To Your Nine-Minute Punk Rock Songs)

We couldn’t be more excited that, this past year, Green Day scored their first number one album with the widely praised and ambitious American Idiot. It quickly became one of our favorites of the year—especially when this country needed a punk-rock-boot kick to the arse. And we tracked down singer/guitarist Billie Joe Armstrong on the tour for the album, catching up with him in Boston just a day after the Red Sox had won the World Series.

INSTINCT: Hey, Billie. Let’s hope that Boston winning, especially over New York, means that Bush is on his way out. Boston was where the Democratic National Convention was, and New York the RNC.

BILLIE JOE ARMSTRONG: [Laughs] Yeah, we’re hoping it turns out that way.

On a scale of one to ten, ten being worst, what kind of shit do you think we’ll be in if Bush gets reelected?

Um, I’m gonna have to go with a solid 9.5. [Laughs] It would be a perfect 10 if we got hit by another terrorist attack—or if Bush croaked and Cheney became President. That’s a scary thought.

There are a few times on the new album where you use the word “fag” or “faggot.” Personally, I think you use those words correctly, where you say things like, “Maybe I’m the faggot America,” and “Kill all the fags that don’t agree.” You’re saying that you’d much rather be a “fag” than someone who is ignorant.

Well you know I’m not a redneck. I got called “faggot” in high school and really that word is thrown at people who are different or out of step with what’s popular. Gay people are not the only ones who get called that. But they’ve used it for empowerment, you know, and I do too.

You’re used to censorship of words or phrases from your songs. Did you get pissed that radio and MTV was bleeping out the word “faggot,” even though you were saying it with punk rock pride?

A little bit. I’m more surprised that they didn’t bleep out “redneck” from [the single, “American Idiot”]. It’s just using harsh language to prove a point and give power to those not in power. Except for a few rap songs, I think it might be the first mainstream rock song to ever use that word. Maybe that’s what scared them.

Okay, have you gotten any flack for it?

No. I think people are smart enough to figure out that I’m using it as an empowering word. Anything derogatory that has been used against me, the way I sort of looked at it was, “Yeah, you can call me whatever want.” It just makes me stronger.

Back in 1995, I saw Pansy Division, the biggest queer punk band at the time, open for you guys in your hometown of Oakland. The big difference being, of course, that instead of the Gilman, you were now playing for, like, 10,000 people after the success of Dookie. Since that was your first record for Warner Bros., did they freak out about you choice of an opening act, especially when they had songs like “Fuck Like Bunnies” and “Ring Of Joy”?

[Laughs] No, nobody said anything. For us, we wanted to bring someone out who truly defines what punk rock is and show some sort of diversity. It would have been to obvious to go out with a band like Pennywise. And considering where we came from, we felt like we owed it to the scene and to our original fans. We ended up getting letters from kids saying that Pansy Division opening for us changed their lives.

If you were a gay guy for a week, what would you do differently?

Hmm, I’d probably get laid a lot more, right?

That’s a stereotype and I’m totally offended! Actually, it’s true. But don’t tell anyone.

Yeah, I can only imagine that getting two guys together makes it a little easier. [Laughs]

Speaking of stereotypes, what would you consider your “gayest” traits?

Probably shopping. But in a punk rock, metrosexual kind of way. [Laughs]

What do you consider your least punk rock characteristic?

Shopping. [Laughs] Probably bathing.

What? Your hair looks like it hasn’t been washed in a month.

[Laughs] I know—let me think again. [Pauses] I own a house, and mortgages are not very punk rock. [Laughs] Owning anything is pretty much not punk rock. [Laughs again]

What questions from journalists have been annoying you the most lately?

Probably the ones where they ask me to explain the album, what American Idiot is about. It’s so long-winded, you know, and I’m, like, Just figure it out for yourself and write about it.

Did you guys know, when you were making the record, that it was going to be this successful and have this kind of impact?

We knew we were making something special to us. We’d never had a number-one record, so we didn’t really even entertain that idea. I don’t think that there has ever been a punk rock band that has gone to number one.

The term “punk rock” has obviously morphed. What does it mean to you when you use that phrase?

What I learned from punk rock is to be an individual and to do things your own way. And if you have rules, realize that rules are meant to be broken. You should still grow as a person and I think you do that best when you don’t limit yourself.

Speaking of individuality, how would you describe your dancing style?

[Laughs] My dancing style? Um, I guess Prince meets Pee-Wee Herman.

I can see that, although I thought that was more of your dress style. So you like to slither on the floor?

I do a little bit of slithering, yes, but with platform shoes on. [Laughs]

Okay, what would you really do different if you were a homo for a week?

[Pauses] I’d probably have more female friends. There’s sort of this boundary that comes across with platonic friendships with women.

So is it because of you or them that you don’t have more females as friends? What, do you just keep looking at their breasts?

[Laughs loudly] No, it gets scary out there. It’s more of a trust issue.

What do you think that straight guys need to do to strengthen their relationships with gay men? And you know you need to do this in order to have more relationships with women.

You know, with my gay friends, it was all about just hanging out and getting used to each other’s company. But the burden is definitely more on the straight guy: stop feeling so damn threatened.

[tigerkirby215]

5e Ezreal, the Prodigal Explorer build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Suke “hugehugesword” Su. Made for Riot Games.)

In my constant and continued effort to deny Ezreal’s existence I finally had to get around to building him. Again it’s not that I don’t like him... I mean I don’t. But I kinda forgot what I was going to build him as. Lol.

Dorans & Dragons also made a build for Ezreal back in like... early 2020. Christ that’s before the world went to shit, ain’t it? Well regardless they also made their build before Tasha’s Cauldron came out and I think I can make a build that is different enough to warrant my build existing alongside theirs.

In short: this is an elaborate excuse for me to make another Artificer build.

GOALS

Gawk at this! - We need many a glowing projectile to spam at foes before blowing them up. Ezreal isn’t the type to just autoattack.

I always know a shortcut - Flash on a 15 second cooldown is nice. We’ll need to be able to blink around constantly throughout the entire fight.

Time to show 'em who's best - Nothing’s more dangerous than a well-placed Trueshot Barrage sniping through the entire enemy team.

RACE

Back to good ol’ Variant Human. As a Variant Human you can increase two of your ability scores by 1: increase your Intelligence and your Charisma, to be the hot smart twink you are. You also learn a Language of your choice along with a Skill of choice. You spent plenty of time studying The Void so Abyssal would make sense as a language, and for your skill Perception would help you spot traps or incoming ganks... as long as you remember to ward.

For your feat we’re going to be grabbing Arcane Shift as fast as possible with Fey Touched so you can start Flashing. (Not like that!) You can increase your Intelligence score by 1 and also learn the Misty Step spell. You can also add a Divination or Enchantment spell to your list and a little Heroism never hurt anyone. You can cast both of these spells once without spending a spell slot, and can then spend spell slots on them after the fact.

ABILITY SCORES

15; INTELLIGENCE - Archeology is a lot of history and facts... If you do it the boring way, that is!

14; DEXTERITY - Repeat it after me: “something something Medium armor.”

13; CHARISMA - You’re a pretty boy twink who got at least two girls on the Rift to fall for you.

12; WISDOM - Traveling through ancient temples and traps takes a degree of common sense. Not necessarily common sense you have, but a bit of boost never hurt.

10; CONSTITUTION - You’re an ADC, which means you’re squishy.

8; STRENGTH - Twink.

Feel free to swap Constitution around with another stat for better health but worse roleplay.

BACKGROUND

“Archaeologist” is just the nice way of saying Tomb Raider, which is the mean way of saying Adventurer! You get proficiency with History and Survival (hey you’ve gotta tough it out in the desert sometimes!) You also get proficiency in a language of your choice (I went for Dwarvish because Dwarves seem to have built most ruins) and proficiency in either Navigator’s Tools or Cartographer’s Tools... “Who needs a map?”

You spent enough time in ruins to pick up some Historical Knowledge on ancient dungeons and temples to know who made them. And if you find anything that belongs in a museum you know how much it’s worth to the museum!

(Artwork by Sangsoo Jeong. Made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - ARTIFICER 1

Starting off as Artificer to “borrow” a few inventions. But also because you get training in Arcana to know your magical artifacts, Investigation to find said magical artifacts, and Calligrapher’s Tools to slay Ascended and Darkin alike in one blow. You also get Magical Tinkering to wave that gauntlet of yours around on some Tiny objects, making them glow or play sounds or do all sorts of things that Prestidigitation would probably do better. But at least you can play your own theme music too!

But of course the main appeal of being an Artificer is the Spellcasting. You can learn two cantrips from the Artificer list like Message to coordinate with your support and Guidance to help yourself find treasure! (Or help others I guess.) You can prepare a number of spells equal to your Intelligence modifier plus your Artificer level (rounded down.) Cure Wounds will let you summoner spell Heal yourself or your Support. Faerie Fire will serve as a more basic version of your Essence Flux, making an enemy easier to hit (therefor making them take more damage!) And Feather Fall is always useful in a pinch!

Also yes you don’t have your gauntlet yet so you’re going to have to use a Light Crossbow for now. Feel free to take a combat cantrip if you want but you don’t really need it.

LEVEL 2 - ARTIFICER 2

Second level Artificers can make Infusions, special definitely-not-stolen magical treasures that make them more awesome than everyone else. For a little more AD an Enhanced Weapon is useful to have. You can also put those goggles on your head to use by making Goggles of Night to see with your dumb human eyes. A Mind Sharpener may feel like a cheat, but I’m not going to say no to keeping Concentration in check. And for your final infusion? A Rope of Climbing might be useful? Honestly the more impressive stuff comes after you’ve done a bit more exploring.

You can also prepare another spell like Alarm, just in case someone’s planning to steal your... legitimately earned treasure.

LEVEL 3 - ARTIFICER 3

Third level Artificers get to choose their specialty and Armorers don’t have to wear an entire suit of armor; just a gauntlet! Along with proficiency in Smith’s Tools you can turn any suit of armor you find into Arcane Armor. The armor has a variety of benefits: no Strength requirement, the inability to have your armor removed against your will, the ability to take it off or put it on as an action, and some replacement limbs. But notably it works as an Artificer spell focus!

There’s two different Armor Models and we’ll be going for the Infiltrator variant for a Lightning Launcher. This makes your Gauntlet a weapon that deals a d6 of lightning damage, with a regular range of 90 and a long range of 300 in case you want to go for long ranged snipes. Additionally once per turn you can pop Essence Flux to do an extra d6 of damage on hit! And I didn’t even mention the best part: this works off your Intelligence! So no more need for the crossbow.

You also get your boots for Powered Steps, increasing your movement speed by 5 feet. And thanks to your Dampening Field you can hide in bushes with free Stealth advantage! I’d recommend trying to get a Breastplate because that’s the best armor you can get that doesn’t also impose stealth disadvantage, but even with Half Plate you can still be sneaky! Heck, you can even wear Platemail if you want! "And my boots are not waterproof. Fantastic."

Oh and you get some Armorer Spells! Magic Missile will autoaim for you like your Arcane Shift projectile, and Thunderwave is helpful for some self-peel.

LEVEL 4 - ARTIFICER 4

4th level Artificers get an Ability Score Improvement: seeing as we have uneven Intelligence take the Observant feat for +1 Intelligence and a boost to your passive Perception and Investigation to watch the minimap for people to snipe! Additionally you can spy on the bad guys if you want and read their lips to gain knowledge of all their secret plans!

More Intelligence does also usually mean more spells prepared but I’m going to wait for...

(Artwork by Xu “Crow God” Cheng. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 5 - ARTIFICER 5

5th level Armorers up their Attack Speed with Rising Spell Force, gaining an Extra Attack with the attack action!

You also get Mirror Image and Shatter added to your list of Armorer Spells, and can prepare spells like Rope Trick for a safe place to rest for awhile, and Heat Metal to really lay in that Essence Flux.

LEVEL 6 - ARTIFICER 6

6th level Artificers get more Infusions which is what I was waiting for! A Radiant Weapon is all the fun of an Enhanced Weapon but it also doubles as a flashlight for your dumb human eyes! And Boots of the Winding Path will let you Arcane Shift back to safety in case you accidentally run into danger.

Feel free to swap some of your old infusions around too. A Lantern of Revealing or Cloak of Elvenkind would be helpful... and Gloves of Thievery never hurt anyone.

And finally you can prepare Aid, as your natural awesomeness rubs off on your allies. "Oh, please, don't die. I can't lose a sidekick. Not again."

LEVEL 7 - WIZARD 1

You didn’t think this would just be a pure Artificer build, did you? Even if that would’ve been stronger I’m legally obligated to needlessly stick multiclass levels into all my builds. And Wizard is definitely a good multiclass for more slots to do Spellcasting! You learn 3 cantrips and six leveled spells as a first level Wizard:

CANTRIPS

To help your allies land their shots take Mind Sliver to weaken an enemy’s saving throws.

Prestidigitation will let you do a bunch of simple magic, and if you want you can have your own hero music too!

Finally Friends is good to make friends you don’t mind losing after they tell you where the ancient ruins are.

SPELLS

I basically just took everything with the Ritual tag. Alarm (yes you have it as an Artificer spell but you can swap that out), Comprehend Languages, Detect Magic, Identify, Tenser’s Floating Disk... and sure why not Find Familiar too? Seeing as you can ritual cast at will most of your early level stuff is going to be reserved for Ritual Casting, as you’re probably going to be spending most of your first level slots on Magic Missile and Faerie Fire anyways.

You also get Arcane Recovery, letting you recover spell slots equal to half your Wizard level (rounded up.) So right now you can get a first level spell slot back at the end of a Short Rest! And later on you can get more!

LEVEL 8 - WIZARD 2

Second level Wizards get to choose the school that their parents left them in before disappearing in the jungle, and the School of Evocation has a surprise tool that will help us later. Along with being an Evocation Savant (allowing you to copy Evocation spells into your spell book with half the time and cost) you can Sculpt Spells so that they only hit the bad guys: when you cast an Evocation spell (from any class, not just Wizard!) you can choose a number creatures equal to the spell’s level + 1. The chosen creatures automatically succeed on their saving throws against the spell, and they take no damage if they would normally take half damage on a successful save. This will be really useful when we get our (pseudo-)Global ultimate; wouldn’t want to fry your pals now would you?

We may as well grab some of those Evocation spells, right? Earth Tremor will let you hit an AoE Mystic Shot because Riot decided that Tiamat should have a cleave I guess, and I mean... Shield is never a bad thing to have?

(Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 9 - ARTIFICER 7

Back to the big brain plays: 7th level Artificers can make the biggest brain plays thanks to Flash of Genius, letting you boost an ally’s skill check or saving throw with your own natural perfection. The boost is equal to your Intelligence modifier and you can use this reaction a number of times equal to double your Intelligence modifier.

LEVEL 10 - ARTIFICER 8

8th level Artificers get another Ability Score Improvement? Well seeing as Intelligence still controls just about everything we do it would do good to increase that by 2! That does mean you can prepare more spells (both as a Wizard and as an Artificer) but I’m going to wait for...

LEVEL 11 - ARTIFICER 9

Every ADC dreams of being six-slotted; now you can be with Armor Modifications! Your Armorer armor counts as 4 separate items for the sake of your Infusions: the chest piece, boots, helmet, and the armor’s special weapon can all be infused. Far more importantly however you can have two extra infusions! Those infusions have to be on your armor, but you can put the Radiant Weapon (weapon) and Goggles of Night (helmet) onto your armor and save your other infusions for your allies! Or for yourself; yourself works too.

And we can’t forget the third level spells! You get Hypnotic Pattern from your Armorer Spells for an AoE stun, but far more importantly you get Lightning Bolt which will serve as Trueshot Barrage! And since you’re an Evocation Wizard you can shoot past your friends without blowing them to bits. "Oh, a plan. Yeah, I totally have one of those."

You can also prepare spells like Haste for more DPS (just don’t get stunned), Blink for some Duskblade invisibility, and replace Alarm with Revifify... Ya know: just in case.

LEVEL 12 - ARTIFICER 10

As an ADC it would be good to get six-slotted, and Magic Item Adept lets you get your 4th Legendary item! That’s because you can now attune to 4 magic items at once! (And can also craft Common and Uncommon magic items more easily.)

Speaking of Infusions, we can make more of them, such as a Cloak of Protection or Winged Boots! These are just generally useful but not really Ezreal specific; they’re mostly for your allies. "The gauntlet's for show... the talent's all me."

You can also prepare another spell like Fly which is just universally useful, and holy shit you get another cantrip. Take Mage Hand and maybe try to be a little more cautious when tomb raiding?

(Artwork by Bo “chenbowow” Chen. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - ARTIFICER 11

Do you want a lot more Mystic Shots? 11th level Artificers can make a Spell Storing Item and put an Artificer spell of first or second level inside. What’s cool about this is that anyone can use it, allowing them to cast the spell as if they were you!

My recommendation? Give them Mirror Image. It’s an amazing buff that doesn’t require Concentration. Even a low DEX Paladin will appreciate the chance to not be hit, and a high DEX ally can really get value out of Mirror Image. Yeah the Barbarian technically can’t cast while raging, but they can use this before going into a Rage to be very hard to hit!

And speaking of spells you can prepare another one, so how about you grab Create Food and Water to keep yourself sated on longer archeological trips. "Why didn't I eat before I got here...? Ezreal, why?!”

LEVEL 14 - ARITIFCER 12

12th level Artificers get another Ability Score Improvement... we got all we need in terms of stats (Intelligence lol) so now it’s time to really make some impressive trick shots: the Sharpshooter feat will let you attack at long range without disadvantage and ignore cover bonuses, but most importantly you can take a -5 to your attack roll for a whopping +10 to damage! Don’t use this on high AC targets obviously but if you think you’ll hit why not go for the one-shot? "No applause, please. ...Okay, maybe just a bit of thunderous acclaim. ...A little?"

LEVEL 15 - WIZARD 3

I do still want more spell slots, as well as more spells known! Truthfully there isn’t too much I want from second level, so take Locate Object to find hidden treasure and Augry (added to the Wizard spell list thanks to Tasha’s!) to know what to expect in the next dungeon... sorta. "No plan survives first contact with me."

LEVEL 16 - WIZARD 4

4th level Wizards get an Ability Score Improvement: we got all the abilities we wanted really, so why not Get Lucky? The Lucky Feat will give you a bit of anime protagonist power to guarantee that you make the perfect daring escape. Feel free to take Warcaster or just increase your Constitution however; by this point Ability Scores don’t matter too much.

You can also learn two more spells like Melf’s Acid Arrow for another Essence Flux-esque DoT ability and See Invisibility, in case you need a Sweeper Lense to deal with any clowns.

LEVEL 17 - WIZARD 5

Ima be honest I kinda just wanted third level for Thunder Step to get an Arcane Shift that does damage. Artificer 18 / Wizard 2 (or even just Artificer 20) would’ve been a fine build for Ezeal too, if you don’t think this one spell is worth a 5 level class dip.

Anyways you also learn another cantrip and I mean... you may as well take Shocking Grasp for some defense up close? You also get one other spell and I’m gonna suggest Galder’s Tower this time which is like Tiny Hut... but awesome. And really small. This is mostly just a way for me to talk about a fun spell and also recommend my homebrew fix for it.

(Artwork by Alvin Lee. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 18 - ARTIFICER 13

You got third level spells as a Wizard, you can now prepare 4th level spells as an Artificer! Fire Shield and Greater Invisibility are both available as Armorer Spells, one of which is far more useful for you than the other one. Bro imagine how crazy Evelynn would be with Evelynn’s passive. But yeah feel free to swap around your prepared spells a bit for more 4th level spells, since you definitely have the slots to do so.

LEVEL 19 - ARTIFICER 14

14th level Artificers are Magic Item Savants who can attune to 5 magic items at once, meaning that along with your boots which are technically magical but whatever you can finally be properly six-slotted! But far more importantly you can attune to any item, regardless of any class or race restrictions tied to the item!  "I can't get hauled into wizard court again. Technically I don't have a permit for the gauntlet."

Speaking of more attunement: more Infusions. An Amulet of Health will let you boost your bad Constitution from a 10 to a 19, giving you a solid 76 health boost near max level! Other than that more movement speed is never a bad thing, and Boots of Speed may give you more value than your other magic boots.

But holy shit forget all that because you finally get your 4th Artificer cantrip! Grab Mending because somehow we don’t have that yet; gotta keep your outfit in check! Oh and you can get around to preparing another 4th level spell! Truth be told though the 4th level spells for Artificer are kinda... bad? But at least Tasha’s gave us Summon Construct which is a surprisingly strong summon!

"Last time I was in Shurima, I decoded some glyphs. Something about a jackal head... End of times... The usual. All I wanted was this ruby scarab. It looks great on my mantle."

LEVEL 20 - ARTIFICER 15

Our final level is the 15th level of Artificer for the Perfected Armor Armorer capstone. When you shoot an enemy you mark them with Essence Flux, giving them disadvantage to hit you. In addition the next attack (including your own I’m pretty sure!) has Advantage against the enemy while they’re marked with  Essence Flux, and if they’re hit they’ll take an extra d6 of Lightning damage!

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Blast 'em, gauntlet! - With your capstone ability you do 4d6 + 10 damage with your Lightning Launcher, and that’s before using Sharpshooter. Even without your capstone 3d6 + 10 is still really good damage output, especially when you can cast spells for big bursts of damage.

See if you can handle this! - Speaking of spells your slots go all the way up to 7th level, and while you’ll mostly just be upcasting a 12d6 Lightning Bolt is nothing to sneeze at! Not to mention other options like a 7d8 Fire damage Heat Metal or +30 HP Aid.

If anyone asks, I didn't see any of these priceless artifacts for sale - It goes without saying that having two more attunement slots than the average character is massive, especially when you can stick infusions onto your armor to maximize the amount of treasures on your person.

CONS

I wasn't strong enough? - Investing fully in INT gives us maxed out combat stats but it leaves a lot of our other abilities lacking. We’re nowhere near Charismatic enough to sell (somewhat) illegitimately gotten gains, and while Infusions can help augment our health (and even our Strength if you grab a Belt of Giant’s Strength) your Wisdom and even your Dexterity are rather mediocre, which is bad for both skill checks and saving throws.

Impossible comebacks are sorta my specialty - Most of your coolest stuff is tied to spell slots and other Long Rest dependent mechanics, and while you have a lot of spell slots (as well as Arcane Recovery to get some of them back) they are still quite limited. You’re perfectly viable as just an auto-attack and Q spammer, but who doesn’t want to shoot lasers and explosions, ya know?

Never met a problem that I couldn't blast away with magic... that I don't even understand - 5 levels in Wizard give us big spell slots but that’s about it, and yeah a 7d6 Lightning Bolt (that won’t hit your allies) is nothing to sneeze at but for the most part you are more of a Martial character. Just saying that level 18 of Artificer would’ve given you Magic Item Master for a whole 6 attunement slots! And level 20 of Artificer would’ve given you Soul of Artifice, essentially operating as a +6 to all saving throws and a 6 time use Guardian Angel.

But if a teamfight breaks out you’re more than a capable ADC. Artificers are the masters of magic items and it doesn’t matter if you make them yourself or “borrow” them from an ancient tomb; you can be the hero mom and dad always wanted you to be! Just concentrate on your farm in the early game and don’t take unnecessary risks. You may be the perfect man of magic but you’re not immortal, despite what the ADCs I’m forced to support always seem to think.

(Artwork by Jennifer Wuesting. Made for Riot Games.)

[harzeke]

Look, I don’t mean to be rude, here, but I don’t understand why so much of the fandom is obsessed with Zeke. He’s not that interesting of a dude, and he was a misogynist since the very first episode. Is there a reason everyone glorifies him? Am I missing something?

people are obsessed w him now???? JRKSJDKD

i don’t check the tag at all because i’m a grown man with a job but i can tell you why i like him i guess

it’s very explicitly stated that he comes from a background where he was not allowed to speak to other people, homeschooled by his parents, and absorbing information that only THEY gave him. it gives off a very “living on a commune/fundamentalist” vibe, and the effects of fundie religious indoctrination and religious refugees are a big interest of mine

despite this he’s a generally well-meaning, if not an extremely misinformed savant. he’s extremely smart but extremely naive (comparable to someone like cameron, but zeke seems to be more gung-ho about learning and doing things even if they’re dangerous). i think if he had been given the time and patience to unlearn the dangerous behavior taught by his parents he could become a very well rounded and humble farm boy type (maybe even a FOIL to scott!) who would have been a great addition to later casts 😊

[tanadrin]

You see a notion in science fiction sometimes (I think Snow Crash is probably the best example of this) of there being patterns of information that could be used to subvert the human brain, patterns that look innocuous or nonsensical at first, but which are nonetheless able to hijack the brain by inducing very specific physical states merely by manipulation of sensory input. This is supposed to be even easier for ultra-smart aliens or computers; or sometimes (as with the Bene Gesserit in Dune) just ordinary humans who know the right secret techniques. The analogy being used, often implicit rather than explicit, is of the brain like a computer: like a computer, it has security vulnerabilities based on its physical architecture, and unusual inputs--inputs that would be gibberish even, if you were trying to interact with the system in a normal way, can expose those flaws.

This trope has always bugged me a little. For one, this trope is really just the post-hypnotic suggestion trope of yesteryear, given a new shiny modern gloss now that the concept of hypnotism feels dated. For another, it relies too heavily on the brain computer analogy, especially the hardware part, which I don’t think works very well. We know the brain doesn’t work much like a computer--computers aren’t nearly as parallel as brains, and they use a lot higher power, which I reckon makes them a lot less fault tolerant. For another, ruthless selection pressure is going to weed out any obvious paths of subversion pretty quickly--animals that can have their brain-states manipulated by sensory input in ways that are detrimental to their survival will be easy pickings for species that develop a knack for using sensory overload to catch their prey. And while it’s not inconceivable our brains could run across totally novel input in the future, hominids alone have had to adapt to a lot of novel environments in the past few million years. If additional neurological complexity came with unpredictable vulnerabilities to novel stimulus, that would be a big weakness: rather, our brains seem to be very good at handling novel stimulus--or, as with the case of light that falls outside our range of vision, or noise that falls outside our range of hearing, it simply passes us by unnoticed.

(Although I guess technically making a noise so loud it shakes someone apart or shooting them with a visible-light laser and vaporizing them is an attack via sensory overload...)

It’s not that biological systems aren’t vulnerable to being hijacked via their information-processing capabilities--just look at the way viruses manipulate DNA! Cells, and especially eukaryotic cells inside multicellular organisms, have evolved a lot of sophisticated defenses over the eons, though. It’s certainly possible in principle to hijack an organism’s DNA, but it’s very hard in practice, and on the scale of populations, animals seem to adapt rather quickly. Human brains, in particular, we also know are vulnerable to chemical modification--but one chemical can do many different things in the human body, and early ideas of some mad scientist developing something like a straightforward “truth serum” or “zombie potion” have run aground against the fact that even highly targeted, very sophisticated pharmaceuticals often have weak effects that are broad in scope--blunt tools, not careful levers that can be pulled to make you dance like a marionette.

Maybe something like Cordyceps, if it could directly access the parts of our brains that control motor functions--although at that point it might be easier just to colonize the spine or the muscles of the body directly, and bypass the brain, and its complicated information processing systems, entirely!

It would be much, much easier for a hostile agent to attack a group of humans using an even higher-level information processing capability: language. (This is part of the conceit of Snow Crash too, of course). But we have evolved defenses against this, too! It is called “lying”, and we have lots of different methods in our society of minimizing the harm that liars can do, as well as other kinds of manipulation that are based on linguistic and social interaction.

Moreover, I think that dramatic vulnerabilities of the kind that are suggested by analogy to computers--hacks, in other words--are properties of designed systems, not emergent ones. I think emergent ones, because they tend to be redundant and to converge strongly on certain states of equilibrium, and because biological emergent systems get ruthlessly tested and developed in one of the most hostile environments in the universe over geological timescales, no clever alien is likely to find an easy-to-exploit vulnerability that just happens to have lain dormant in chordate biology for the last couple hundred million years. Biological emergent systems have their own set of weaknesses, of course: the very emergence which makes them resilient and fault-tolerant makes it very hard to make even basic improvements. And while there are some mathematical savants who can calculate quickly, I’ve never heard of someone being able to (for instance) do the graphics calculations for a modern video game running at 60 fps all in their head.

And, more broadly, this is why I think it’s possible (only possible--I don’t know enough to say whether it’s likely or unlikely) we may never get artificial machine intelligence that looks anything like useful sentience or sapience. I think it’s possible that mind-like intelligence is extremely impractical on any kind of machine-like substrate, and if you were going to build one on a biological substrate, you might as well start with a design we know works well, like one of thousands of sophisticated animal brains. But machine-like information processing (the kind we do with computers) is a solution to a very different set of problems than animal-like information processing. I’m not sure how different. But maybe enough that all our real AI breakthroughs will come only when our computers start looking a lot more like biological processes than mechanical and electrical ones.

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Eight

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

The morale of the troops stationed at the airport seemed to have improved massively . Backhand secretly suspected that having Brandis back had raised everyone's spirits, but she wasn't about to say it out loud.

  Danse had been quiet for the remainder of their journey to the Prydwen, back to thinking a hole in the proverbial wall. Vega assumed he was probably just exhausted; he had already been awake and eager to move out by the time she roused herself that morning. She couldn't blame him. His power armor was long overdue for a greasing and she knew it wasn't an easy feat to move it with sticky bearings. Danse refused to take breaks though, simply chugging along at a steady trudge that she could match with ease. 

  They had agreed to skip a breakfast proper in lieu of eating on the march. A few stunted mutfruit that clung to a scrubby little bush beside the lean-to made their way into their stomachs, and Danse managed to acquire a box of Saddle Up when he gave the collapsed house next to the lean-to a cursory once-over. The two of them split the contents of the box, Danse folding his portion of Salisbury steak in half and tearing a piece out of it with his teeth like it was jerky. 

  Backhand followed suit, though a bit slower, trying to make the tough 'meat' last. She couldn't help but daydream about yesterday's breakfast, the tender meat of the radstag tossed with the soft tatos…

  Regardless of her rumbling stomach, she was glad to be back at the airport. With any luck, she'd be able to speak with Proctor Ingram and get her input on the schematics Virgil and Sturges had come up with. What was it that Nick had said?

  " Just a few more steps ."

  Danse touched her shoulder after they disembarked the vertibird on the flight deck. "I have to go deliver my armor to Ingram and then give Elder Maxson my report, Knight Vega. I suggest you locate Paladin Brandis so that you may retrieve your armor."

  Backhand saluted him sharply, tacking on the Ad Victoriam! at the end. Danse smiled with his eyes, but his face remained stern. 

  "Report to the grease pit once you're finished eating, Knight. Dismissed."

  "How did you know I was-?"

  "If I'm hungry, I imagine you are as well." Danse reasoned, "we ate lightly this morning and it's well past noon. Go get something to eat."

  "Yes sir , Paladin sir!" Backhand replied eagerly, bolting off. 

  Her boots clattered on the metal gangways as she strode towards the mess, ducking and dodging around armored knights and aspirants. Along the way, she heard the whispers that followed her.

  " Hey wasn't that the new sister? "

  " Her and Paladin Danse brought Paladin Brandis back to us! "

  " I heard Knight Vega is the General of the Minutemen -"

  " You're nuts , why would she join up with us if she's already in charge of somethin'? "

  Backhand did her best to ignore the ever-present circulation of scuttlebutt, the young woman making her way to the canteen with sure steps.

  …

  Praise be to whatever God still looked after mankind, Danse found himself redirected to Knight-Captain Cade before he could even think about going to the command deck. Ingram demanded that he submit to a thorough exam after she saw the level of damage his suit bore, and Danse wasn't about to tell a proctor no. If he relayed his briefing to Cade, Danse knew he could circumvent visiting Maxson directly. 

  "Ah, Danse! I'd heard you were back." Cade greeted the paladin hovering in the doorway, waving him in. "What brings you here, Paladin? More troubles of the heart?" He teased.

  Danse jerked to a halt. 

  Troubles of the heart? The words bounced around in his skull, demanding to be examined and oh God. Oh God , that's what had been wrong with him before! Danse wanted to beat his head against the wall. He hadn't been sick at all, not physically anyway. No wonder Cade had been so damned amused at all of his protesting.

  He forced himself to chuckle at the joke, forced himself to keep moving. Inside though, he wanted to scream. 'Troubles of the heart'. Love , as if he deserved to be able to so much as feel that emotion! As if he deserved anything after Cutler, after the catastrophic failure of Recon Squad Gladius!

  It was with panic that he thought back to that morning, to being calm and serene while he just... looked at her and...oh God no , he couldn't do this again. He wouldn't . 

  He shouldn't. 

  But…

  No! Think about what happened with Cutler! Think about what Arthur will do if he perceives her as a threat! Danse raged at himself. Don't be selfish for once in your damn life, she needs the Brotherhood and the Brotherhood needs her to get into the Institute. That's all . Don't make things more complicated, damn it!  

  All Danse could think about was her face right after he had found her lying on the ground in a pool of her own blood at Fort Independence, the desperate way she had entreated him.

  "- find my baby -" 

  Was she just trying to appeal to his sympathies? Danse could freely admit the compassionate nature he tried to bury had gotten him into more trouble than he would like over the years. But had she been playing the long game with that kiss at the police station? Certainly, if the Brotherhood hadn't caught their signal it would have been no skin off of her nose, she could move on to a new target. But since the Prydwen had shown up…

  Had Backhand attempted to get into his good graces just so she could get a better shot at saving her son? 

  As much as that reality would sting, he was unable to blame her for it. Danse already knew just how far he would go for his Brotherhood brothers and sisters, he couldn't even fathom what depths he would stoop to if he was trying to rescue his theoretical child. 

  Cade looked up from his clipboard. "What's wrong, Paladin? You look like you've seen a ghost."

  "I'm just...tired." Danse replied lamely. "Hungry." He swiftly changed the subject. "How is Brandis?"

  Cade leaned forward in his seat, unable to hide his clear interest. "I don't know how you managed to convince him to return, but he's doing remarkably well. We have him on a strengthening regiment, his body had been wracked by the radiation. Your knight surrendering her armor was a smart move."

  Your knight. Danse swallowed hard. "She is thoughtful." He said cautiously. Too much praise and it would be obvious that something was afoot, but too little could also tip the scales unfavorably. He found himself maneuvering a tightrope between his usual blunt honesty and this new, strange territory. 

  Many of the rank and file looked up to Danse due to his combat prowess and unflinching resolve. The paladin, in turn, was not necessarily overly free with his praise, but he tended to be more generous. A leftover from slogging along under Krieg's command, if Danse had to guess. The older paladin had cultivated Danse's eagerness to please into an unflagging tenacity through methods that were occasionally viewed as barbaric, but no one could fault his results. Still though, Danse wanted to be a fair leader, not a warlord or a tyrant who brought out the best in his troops through extreme duress.

  Had he been more like Krieg, maybe Gladius wouldn't have-- no , thinking that way would only drive him into a darker depression.

  He realized suddenly that Cade was giving him a quizzical look and Danse tried not to let his panic show. If Cade sussed him out, Vega would no doubt be reassigned. Maybe to Brandis? Hell, she would get the old codger killed -

  Cade got to his feet, asking Danse to follow his penlight with his eyes. The paladin obeyed, stifling a yawn as he did. "Still having trouble sleeping?" Cade asked calmly. "The headaches and nightmares?"

  "They come and go." Danse admitted. "I rarely sleep well, sir."

  "It's to be expected after everything you've gone through, Danse. You need to give yourself time , perhaps even take some leave-"

  Danse was already shaking his head, his hands clenched into fists on his thighs. "With all due respect sir, there is too much at stake in the Commonwealth."

  "And with even more respect, Paladin, you're working yourself into an early grave. Even earlier than you might anticipate. I'm well aware of your history and your mentality when it comes to the Brotherhood, but you need to consider the ramifications of your high-output lifestyle." Cade reasoned with a frown. "You'll burn yourself out at this rate. Hell, you might have already! Pay attention to your body, soldier. If you need to rest, then rest ." He placed a hand on Danse's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze. "You're no good to the Brotherhood dead, Danse."

  Danse nodded stiffly down at the floor. "Understood, sir." He then began to give his field report, Cade occasionally stopping him to ask for points of clarification.

  …

  Ingram hummed at the terminal, her eyes darting back and forth as she read through the information that scrolled across the screen. 

  "Okay. Okay alright, yeah. Your friend is a genius, but he's a bit of a savant. Gotta' tell him to branch out." She mumbled, almost like she was talking to herself. "Write this down for me, manipulating a pen in this suit is a terrible time."

  Backhand quickly accepted the clipboard Ingram pushed her way, hope rising in her heart as the proctor rattled off different statistics and theories about teleportation. Ingram expanded on Sturges' prior reasonings exponentially, seeming almost as excited as Backhand was at the plethora of new data to browse. Through a series of notes and ruler-lined diagrams, the proctor helped to fill in the gaps that Sturges had been struggling with. 

  "Of course, this is all speculation." Ingram sighed finally, sounding a little dejected. "If the Institute was really at the level of actual molecular reconstruction via relay, I get the idea that the Prydwen wouldn't still be in the air." She smiled at Backhand. "But hey, tell your friend 'thanks' from an old proctor. It was fun to think about. I don't get a lot of interesting or challenging data anymore, so this was a nice change of pace. If he ever wants to come aboard and talk shop, let me know and I'll try to get Maxson to give him a 'visitor's pass'."

  Vega was flabbergasted. Ingram apparently believed that Sturges just had limitless free time on his hands to flesh out such wild theories. She didn't think that any of it was real! The young woman collected herself after a moment, trying to think up an appropriate response. "I'll--I'll definitely let him know! I'm sure having someone intelligent to bounce his ideas off of will do him wonders." She promised, returning Ingram's smile. "He tends to leave me in the dust once he really gets going."

  Ingram groaned theatrically. "Ah, the burden of genius! Heavy is the head that wears the crown, you know how it is. It's times like these that I miss the hell out of Doctor Li."

  "Who was Doctor Li?"

  "Ah, she was one of our scientists back in the big CW. Worked on a lot of important stuff for the Brotherhood. Then one day she just kinda'-" Ingram gestured vaguely. "-went poof. Nobody ever heard from her again."

  Backhand had only been half-listening as she leafed through the notes, carefully collecting them all into a neat pile and stowing them in her satchel. But at the proctor's admission that their doctor had vanished , the former Vault-dweller straightened up. She squinted at Ingram. " Poof? "

  Ingram nodded. "Yep. Gone like she was never there. I personally think, after hearing about how the Institute operates, that our lead scientist got poached." She shrugged, her armor frame creaking loudly. "But that's just me. For all I know, Madison got bored."

  Backhand chewed her lower lip thoughtfully. Stealing a brilliant scientist from their chief opposition made sense. But she still had no idea why the Institute would have taken her son of all people.

  "Oh! Your armor, I almost forgot. Brandis had me tuck it away in bay six." Ingram said suddenly, hooking a thumb over her shoulder in the direction of the bay. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got some serious work ahead of me to unfuck Danse's gear. 'Outstanding', my ass ." She griped. "Man's got a death wish."

  Backhand tried valiantly to choke back her laughter at Ingram's exaggerated impression of Danse's " outstanding ", but failed miserably.

  "Ah, I see you too must have witnessed the fabled ' outstanding '?" Ingram chuckled. "It's his trademark, great stuff."

  "I am pleased to know that you find my speech patterns amusing , Proctor Ingram." Danse's voice made Backhand squeak. The paladin sauntered up beside Ingram, still ripping apart what looked like an entire pot pie. 

  "Danse! I see you still can't take a breather, even if it's only to eat." Ingram remarked pointedly, rolling her eyes. "You couldn't have sat down in the mess hall, Paladin?" 

  "Time is of the essence, Proctor." Danse said through a mouthful of tough crust. Backhand had grabbed a slice of it when she was in the mess. The filling wasn't half bad, but whoever had made the shell had worked their dough for far too long. Obviously Danse wasn't letting that stop him.

  "Danse it's gonna' take my scribes a hot minute just to get all the dents out, nevermind the greasing. Do me a favor, take your knight and go to Proctor Teagan for a new helmet." Ingram shooed the paladin off, rolling her eyes at Backhand. "A fine example for our troops, as long as they don't watch you eat ."

  "They should not be watching me eat to begin with-" Danse started to protest.

  " Danse . Go to Teagan."

  …

  Finding Paladin Brandis conversing with Teagan shouldn't have come as a surprise to Danse. After all, Brandis loved his armor and mods. It was odd to see the older paladin all cleaned up once again, the sides of his head uniformly shaved and his facial hair back to the semi-standard goatee.

  "Danse!" Brandis greeted him warmly and Danse wished that he didn't have crumbs all over his jumpsuit. He was startled when the other man hauled him into a hug, slapping him on the back. "It's good to see you in one piece, Paladin! I heard about what happened with your armor. It's always a trial if you have to abandon your gear." Brandis' smile was broad but his eyes were sad. 

  Danse swallowed, nodding in agreement. "Are we interrupting your discussion, Paladin Brandis?" 

  "Not at all! I was just about to stop monopolizing Teagan's time."

  "Brandis, the last thing you're doing is monopolizing." Proctor Teagan groaned, leaning his elbows on the counter. He perked up when Backhand scooted out around Danse. "New Blood! You're back in one piece!" 

  "Takes more than a sure-fail mission to locate a man who's been missing for over five years to stop me, Proctor Teagan." Knight Vega replied, giving him a salute as he laughed.

  "Now, Danse, what's this I hear about you half-scuttling your gear?" Teagan chided the large paladin. "You're lucky we like you around here, you know that?"

  Danse chuckled, nodding. "I'm well aware, Proctor. I must requisition a new helmet."

  "Psh, you think I'll have one that'll fit that big head of yours? We'll have to see." Teagan ribbed him, turning away from the counter and beginning to rummage in his crates.

  Danse heard the sound of small footfalls and abruptly Brandis was assaulted by one of the squires. "Paladin Brandis!" The child exclaimed, like he had just discovered the paladin. 

  "Yes, little one?" Brandis asked, taking the boy's cap off to ruffle his unruly blond curls. Danse caught himself wondering what young Matthew would be like as a squire. Would he be more quiet, prone to scribe work? Or would he still be mischievous, going places where he shouldn't, eventually donning a suit of power armor to defend him from the consequences of said mischief?

  And Backhand's own child, her Shaun. When they rescued him, what would he be like? He assumed she must also think about that, obviously more than he would. 

  Danse realized belatedly that Brandis had continued his conversation with the boy, the child rattling on and on to the paladin about being allowed to feed Scribe Neriah's mole rats. Danse just barely caught Knight Vega's wistful smile before Teagan was clattering a familiar helmet down on the counter. "And here it is! One brain bucket, complete with intact searchlight." The proctor announced proudly, sliding the requisition form over for Danse to sign. "I expect you to take better care of this one, Paladin. Knight, make sure he takes better care of this one." Teagan instructed, narrowing his eyes.

  Vega snapped another salute, "yes sir, Proctor sir!"

  "Where are you off to now, Danse?" Brandis asked curiously, the squire still clinging to his leg.

  "Well, as Knight Vega is in a probationary phase, I imagine we'll assist Scribe Neriah. Perhaps Proctor Quinlan has a job for us." Danse mused, scribbling DN-407P on the form. "I don't believe we'll be sent out with the rest of Gladius anytime soon. I ought to check in on them."

  "Recon Squad Gladius returned last night, sir!" The squire informed him with a clumsy salute. "They should be at the ground barracks, sir!"

  " Outstanding ." Danse said warmly, then he heard Backhand wheeze with laughter. "Oh, be quiet." He huffed, nudging her side with his elbow. 

  …

  Danse had left her to her own devices, stating that he would be checking in on the remainder of his squadron for the evening. 

  " If you'd like to pick up a few small assignments, I will be happy to assist you with them as I continue to sponsor you ." 

  So after a brief logistical kerfuffle that found her standing in Cade's doorway instead of Quinlan's, Backhand managed to get herself assigned to the illustrious task of rustling up technical documents. "My scribes do so enjoy their reading material." Proctor Quinlan remarked, seeming amused by the way the young woman fawned over Emmett. "If you locate anything you believe could be of interest, please bring it to me. A good soldier knows that an unanticipated edge is the preferred one."

  "Of course sir." 

  Backhand did feel just a bit guilty about using Proctor Ingram as Sturges' sounding board, but in her defense she had planned on telling the other woman the truth. It just was a little less... messy for the moment if Ingram didn't know everything.

  Vega knew she could ask Codsworth about technical documents once she got back to Sanctuary. The robot hadn't left the cul-de-sac for over two hundred years; he probably had an itemized list of every thing in every house . And since the Hills had been styled as veteran housing, there was bound to be a few items of interest. Plus, it was the perfect excuse to return to Sanctuary so she could fling all of Ingram's notes at Sturges. Fingers crossed that the genius could make sense of them.

  Backhand was tired of wasting time, tired of spinning her wheels. But she knew that the more she helped, the more people would be willing to help her when the time came. Having the numbers of an outfitted army on her side in case of something going wrong was an immense comfort, and it helped to soothe her worries. The familiarity of it didn't hurt either. The Minutemen were slowly becoming a force to be reckoned with, but their humble beginnings could be a bit glaring . This was the next best option.

  So she'd rifle through the debris of Sanctuary Hills one more time. The required company of Danse was more of a bonus than a detriment, in her opinion. She could keep him clear of the Prydwen a lot easier when they were halfway across the world from the airport. 

  Ingram's words echoed in her head, not for the first time since Danse had been assigned as her sponsor. 

  "... Danse is a good man and he shouldn't be getting jerked around, Elder or no ."

  Backhand frowned, tipping herself out from behind her armor in bay six. Her eyes landed on Danse's suit standing empty across the way as two scribes slowly coaxed the dents out of it. God, the damage had been sobering in the first place, but looking at it now was almost worse. The frame looked tired . 

  " That's Paladin Danse's armor?"

  Backhand jumped at the whisper from beside her. She hadn't heard the squire approach. "Yup. Crazy, huh?"

  "Is he...is he okay?" The little girl asked timidly, wide brown eyes staring up at Vega. 

  "He is! He's fine, I promise." Backhand patted the child's shoulder gently. "I helped him out, fixed him up real good."

  "Okay." The girl nodded, looking thoughtful. "Paladin Brandis is okay too. That's good. He's important." 

  "'Important', huh?" Backhand echoed, knowing she must sound bemused. This little girl was just being so serious , like she was trying to seem more adult. It was sweet, in a sad way. A testament to the burden put on these kids at such a young age.

  "Yes." The little girl puffed herself up a bit. "We need Paladin Brandis. He's important ."

  "Why is he important?" Backhand queried curiously. 

  "We…" the squire hesitated, like she had said too much. "He just is. I can't tell you. S'a secret."

  Backhand gave the child a salute, nodding. "Of course. Don't worry, I won't compromise your mission." 

  "W-Well, good!" She stuttered, adjusting her cap and giving Backhand a salute in return. "Ad Victoriam, knight. I gotta' go." She scampered off, leaving Backhand confused and somewhat entertained.

  He's important . 

  As she tucked in for the night, Backhand wondered what the child had meant. Was the squire being needlessly cryptic? Maybe she had overheard something she wasn't supposed to? 

  Backhand stared up at the dimly-lit innards of the Prydwen, the ribs of the massive airship barely visible in the dark. Another mystery , she mused ruefully. Her return to Sanctuary couldn't come soon enough.

  …

  Danse was summoned to the command deck at six hundred hours the following morning. He should have known that he wouldn't even be able to enjoy the company of Haylen and Rhys without suffering some kind of consequence.

  He hated how sweaty his palms were as he stood at attention, his back ramrod straight.

  "Paladin Danse, I was given your briefing yesterday by Knight-Captain Cade. Is there any particular reason you didn't come to me personally?" Arthur asked, sounding almost bored. Danse might have believed it if not for the current of anger that rasped in his voice.

  "Proctor Ingram sent me directly to Cade, Elder Maxson. My armor was in poor shape and she was concerned about my bodily state." The paladin replied evenly.

  "Brandis showed up well before you did. Why is that, Danse?"

  "Local civilians informed myself and Knight Vega of a super mutant infestation. It was during our assault on the compound that my armor took the damage. I needed time to repair-"

  Danse's explanation was cut off by the sound of heavy boots on the large ladder between decks. Brandis of all people emerged from the porthole, offering Danse a quick nod before focusing his attention on Maxson. "Elder! I have a request for flight support from-"

  "Brandis, how many times do I have to tell you not to interrupt me?" Arthur snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose.

  "And how many times do I have to tell you that nothing about the military is convenient or willing to wait on your long-winded tomfoolery?" Brandis retorted. "I have a knight requesting flight support, Maxson, and the presence of Paladin Danse."

  "Me?" Danse asked in confusion.

  Elder Maxson growled, then nodded. "Very well . I suppose your report from Cade will have to do. But in the future , Paladin Danse, I expect you in person on the command deck. Do I make myself clear?"

  "Of course, Elder." Danse saluted dutifully. "Ad Victoriam." Arthur just waved him off, obviously irritated. 

  Once they had returned to the engineering deck, Brandis clapped Danse on the shoulder. "Sorry about that, I didn't realize that he would try for you so early!" He apologized. "Knight Vega has been rarin' since five. I know he denied you air support before, but Vega said you two have a long ways to go for the assignment she picked up from Quinlan. It's easier to get something out of that little curmudgeon if you baffle him with rapid-fire requests."

  Danse sputtered, unsure if he had ever heard someone refer to the elder as a little curmudgeon . "I am glad that your respect for Elder Maxson is just as strong as ever, Paladin Brandis." He managed to say.

  "Arthur has gotten too big for a combination of his britches, his father's britches, and his grandfather's britches." Brandis chuckled, "it does him good to get brought back down to earth once in a while." He straightened up, giving Danse a gentle push in the direction of the armor bay. "Now go, go go get suited up before he changes his mind!" The older paladin urged impatiently.

  Danse noted when he reached the grease pit that Vega's armor was gone. Obviously she had wanted to get an early start. Danse grimaced ruefully, zipping up his jumpsuit. No matter what he did, it seemed to be the wrong thing. He wished he could go back to his bunk and try again in an hour or so. 

  He shook his head, then stepped into his armor. The gaskets hissed as the unit was sealed, the back plate latching down firmly. Danse picked up his new helmet, absently flipping it out of habit and then sliding it onto his head until it clicked into the gorget seal. The heads-up display flickered to life in front of his eyes, all readings nominal. Green across the board , as Lancer-Captain Kells would say.

  His heavy sabatons clunking firmly on the metal catwalks, Danse made his way to the flight deck.

  Backhand was there, her helmet tucked under her arm as she chatted animatedly with the pilot that ( presumably ) was taking them to their location. Danse still had no idea what their assignment was. Hell, he didn't even know if there was an assignment or if this was all just a conspiracy cooked up by Vega and Brandis to get him away from Maxson.

  A combination of embarrassment and gratitude flushed Danse's face beneath his helmet. He was relatively sure that neither of them knew what was truly going on between himself and Maxson. Maybe they had assumed the worst, thought that he was being abused or something to that effect. But it wasn't... really , technically. He was following orders. Orders that made him sick to his stomach and hot with shame, but he was a Brotherhood soldier and he would do as the elder commanded him.

  "Glad to see you taking initiative, Knight Vega." Danse commented loudly over the roar of the vertibird engine. 

  "Paladin! Good to see you bright and early. We have our heading from Proctor Quinlan, and I know just the place. This fine gal will be droppin' us off in Concord." Backhand explained and the pilot grinned, waving off the praise and gesturing for the two of them to climb aboard.

  …

  Backhand was practically vibrating with excitement when they finally touched down just outside of Concord. She was off and running down the main thoroughfare, leaving Danse to catch up with her.

  "Knight Vega!" The paladin protested.

  "Time is of the essence, Paladin!" Backhand yelled in reply, slowing briefly to a jog. 

  "Where are we even going , Vega?" Danse shouted. She didn't bother to answer, just making a sweeping motion with her arm as if to say hurry up! "I fail to see the strategic advantage of the two of us careening through the town like a stampede of brahmin!"

  "Just follow me and stop complaining!" Backhand laughed, maintaining her pace up the hill to the Red Rocket gas station. She paused at the top, waiting for Danse to come up alongside her before she pointed across the river. "Look." She said, a little breathless.

  Danse obliged, the paladin going still. "Another settlement?"

  "This is where I lived before the war." Backhand informed him, "Sanctuary Hills."

  Danse made a noise of acknowledgment, shifting his weight. "And the reason why we're here?" He pressed after a moment.

  Backhand smiled under her helmet, patting his shoulder. "Technical documents. Not only was this little development just teeming with ex-military, if that's not good enough my vault is up the hill."

  He was silent for a time and Backhand was getting a little worried that she had upset him somehow, but then out of the blue, " outstanding , Knight Vega." The warmth in his tone was unmistakable and she couldn't even bring herself to make a joke about his trademark term, too flustered by his praise to do anything aside from nod and start walking across the old bridge.

  Dogmeat came galloping to greet her, the mutt barking excitedly and fawning around her legs after she ejected from her power armor. "Hey Meat! Who's a good boy? Who's the best boy?" Backhand crooned, giving him belly rubs when he begged for them. 

  "Ah, Miss Vega! It is, as always, a delight to have you return to us. You look well!" Codsworth bubbled, the Mister Handy breezing over to her from his usual spot maintaining the patchy hedges. "And who is this that you've brought with you? Will I need to set an extra plate at dinner?" He inquired, two out of three eyestalks gazing up at the impassive paladin. 

  "Codsworth, this is Paladin Danse. I hope you can help the two of us out with a little project." Backhand said seriously, tapping her forehead against the cool metal of Codsworth's third eye. 

  The robot sputtered, "But of course , mum! Whatever the two of you need, if there's any way at all that I might assist you, I shall do my best." He waved his appendages around, mimicking a fighting stance. "Are there more ruffians about, mum? More interlopers? Has the Red Menace finally come to our doorstep? I'll give them a thorough drubbing, just send them my way!" He said staunchly.

  Backhand chuckled, shaking her head. "Nothing quite as exciting as all that, Codsworth. My friend works for a group that's dedicated to curating and preserving technology, and we were sent out expressly to find documents that might be useful. I know you've been here for a while, and I was hoping that you might-"

  "Oh, if it's old, musty, suspicious documents you're after, Miss Vega, I must say you've come to the right place!" Codsworth lowered his voice conspiratorially, "why, I've got it on good faith that your neighbor was a dirty commie spy! " He sounded scandalized. "Mr. Sturges says that I am too quick to jump to conclusions, but can you even imagine-? "

  "Codsy, if I told you once I told you a thousand times, don ' t you be puttin' words in my mouth!" Sturges shouted from his usual position by the workbench, giving Backhand a friendly wave. "Howdy General, how was your vacation?"

  "A nightmare." Vega admitted, "Weston was infested all over again." 

  "Oo, that's a tough place to get a handle on. I assume you got it sorted though? I mean, you're the general for a reason." The man mused, wiping his hands off on a rag and cocking his head. "So this is the fella' from the police station? Land sakes, you didn't skimp on your description." He teased, making Backhand wince self-consciously as he sauntered over. "I know Preston's got mixed feelin's on the Brotherhood, but I figure any heavily-armored port in a radstorm, right?" 

  Sturges stopped in front of Danse, squinting up at the man's helmet. Danse removed it after a moment, the seal hissing and steaming a little in the cool morning air. "Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel." He intoned, extending one large gauntlet to the mechanic.

  Sturges chuckled, gamely shaking the massive hand presented to him. "Sturges. I fix things. Suppose that'd be an engineer or a mechanic to you military folks."

  "Speaking of fixing things..." Backhand dug into her satchel, tugging free the ream of notes she had from Ingram. "I brought you a present!" She sang, passing the incomprehensible sheaf of paper to the other man.

  Sturges whistled after flipping through the first few pages, his eyebrows launching up until they were hidden by his goggles. "Damn, this is good. General, this is real good. Like, ' we might pull this off ' kinda' good!" He said giddily. 

  "Yeah?" Backhand replied eagerly. "Danse and I will be here for a few days, so if Jun or Marcy are busy-"

  "I'll ask you, of course. Thanks for this, General. It really helps to have an extra pair of eyes lookin' over my work." Sturges drawled sincerely. 

  "How is Mama Murphy doing?" Vega asked, twiddling her fingers nervously.

  "She got up earlier this mornin'! She came out and had her coffee with me. I'd say she's doin' better. Shorin' herself up." Sturges smiled. "We got a lifetime of chem problems to work through, y'know, so I ain't expectin' any overnight miracles."

  "Yeah, I guess not." Backhand frowned. "I still wish there was more I could do."

  Sturges put a hand on her arm. "You done more than enough, General. More than most folks would have. Don't worry about Mama Murphy. She's a tough ol' gal."

  …

  Evening fell over the settlement and Danse was grateful for the opportunity to simply rest his eyes. He knew why Quinlan had such thick glasses now. He had only dug into one box of documents and his head was still spinning from all the fine print!

  Backhand yawned, eyes lidding and mouth going slack with the effort. "God, I am beat ." She confessed, laughing a little. "It's pretty sad that all it takes to get me braindead is reading about failed observations and leafing through old refrigerator manuals."

  "I find the manuals miles more interesting. I've always enjoyed that sort of practical research." Danse remarked. "It has real-life applications in the field, but these other things…" he heaved a sigh. "I wish Haylen had been permitted to come along with us. She is far more adept when it comes to cataloging. I was not trained as a scribe."

  "Well, I would say we should burn the midnight oil, but I'm pretty sure we've both got mush for brains right now." Vega got to her feet, taking a moment for a full-body stretch. "We can get back to this tomorrow. Right now, I'm hungry."

  "Dinner will be ready in a moment, mum!" Codsworth assured from his spot just outside the front door, continuing to rotate the meat on its spit over the fire.

  Danse abruptly realized that he was starving , the delicious smell of the roasting yao guai making his stomach rumble. It had been hours since they had eaten, and he had been so focused on the task at hand that he hadn't even noticed. He neatly collected the papers spread out on the floor and shuffled them all together, placing them on top of the boxes Vega had already made her way through. 

  Truthfully, this neighborhood had been a hotbed of observation and it made him feel a little antsy now that he didn't have the mind-numbing documents to distract him. It was foolish to be concerned about such things, Danse told himself. Anyone who might have been observing this area was long dead. It wasn't as if he and Backhand would be spirited away in the night by 'the men in suits'. Although...it was a little disconcerting to realize that those occurrences were considered normal back in the pre-war era.

  Knight Vega, oblivious to his inner quandary, was digging through the rickety refrigerator. "You want a Nuka? Or a beer?" She asked.

  Danse opened his mouth. Hesitated. Bought himself time by climbing upright and doing his own series of light stretches. One beer was surely acceptable in the field? Surely? He had known many a commanding officer that hadn't let their duties stop them from getting intoxicated. It had been a short eternity since he had imbibed any spirits. 

  Surely just one would be alright. "Beer, please." 

  In a motion so fluid it must have been muscle memory, Vega hooked the cap of the beer on the edge of the battered formica counter and quickly slammed it down, prying off the top with ease. "Cheers, Paladin." She tipped the bottle to him and Danse caught it around the neck, nodding his thanks before taking a long drink. 

  Being alone was dangerous in the field, he mused for the hundredth time, as it made him neglect his own needs. He hadn't even noticed that he was hungry or thirsty until Backhand insisted that they pause for the evening. Danse couldn't even count the amount of nights Haylen or Rhys had to force him to stop patrolling the police station so he would get some rest. It was just so easy for him to sink into a rut, a routine, ignoring everything else in favor of it. 

  Her own Nuka Cola received the same treatment, foaming up a little in protest. Backhand laughed, hurrying to gulp the soda down before it overflowed. 

  "Where will I be bunking for the evening, Knight Vega?" Yes, Danse was technically in charge, technically her sponsor, but this was her house. He wasn't so bold to presume that he would be permitted to sleep wherever he wanted.

  Backhand tapped her lips with the Nuka Cola bottle as she appeared to think. "I mean, we can haul a bed into here for you? I imagine you don't want to sleep on the floor." She reasoned.

  "I would rather not, if there is an available bed." Danse agreed, grimacing. 

  "Alright, after dinner me and Sturges can grab one of the extra beds." 

  "Alternatively, you can direct me to it and I can move it myself." Danse didn't mean to sound so petulant, but he hardly needed another man and his ward to accomplish a task he should be more than capable of. Backhand began to laugh, her mirth making Danse scowl self-consciously. " What? " He finally muttered.

  "Nothing! Nothing at all. I will absolutely take you to the bed ." Backhand sputtered.

  Danse took a moment to consider her words, and a reluctant smile disrupted his stoic expression. "Honestly Knight, you are incorrigible ." He huffed, unable to bite back his own chuckle at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation. Here they were, laughing like aspirants over some inadvertently ribald humor. He felt foolish, though not necessarily in a bad way. "Yes yes, Knight Vega, take me to bed." He announced, outstretching a hand to her. "Next thing you know, you'll be making jokes about sleeping together." 

  His heart raced when she winked at him. "We've already done that, keep up Paladin!"

Part Nine

[writethehousedown]

Written In Red (Biadore) - Puppy

“Bianca? How do you normally go about grading things?”

“Just do what I do. Give your kids B-‘s and hope they don’t notice!”

A/N: Howdy. I’m back again. The relationship between Biadore could be interpreted as either platonic or romantic. I just thought it would be nice to see that motherly affection show in a different environment.

It was a little strange, now that she thought about it. She was fully an adult with a job that probably paid more than anything in food services, and the job she wanted straight out of college too! There were some things that she needed to get used to in this new position though, mainly minor adjustments. She had a natural hair color for the first time in a while, her more ‘obscene’ piercings taken out of her nose and tongue. ‘Miss Delano’ didn’t have the same ring to it, but Adore figured she couldn’t be on a first name basis with a ton of middle schoolers.

What seemed stranger was the fact that Adore could have gone home by now. Grading was simple enough, as it was still in the early weeks of the semester. She decided to review some music theory that, hopefully, her students had covered a year earlier: notes, scales, and the likes of that. She could’ve solved her own quiz in a heartbeat, and her students seemed to perform well. However, she spent this time zoning off into space or at the most recent cat photo she’d been sent.

“You know you can grade from home, right?”

Adore was yanked back down to Earth as she turned towards the slightly gruff voice. She should have gotten used to that by now, but alas. “Ah… hey Ms. Del Rio…” She slightly blushed seeing the drama teacher enter her empty classroom.

“Oh, please… that was my mother’s name.  Bianca’s fine. We’re at that point in the year to be on a first name basis.” Bianca pulled out a folding chair from a corner of the room and sat it across from her younger coworker’s desk.

Adore snorted out a laugh. “Yeah… sorry about that, B.”

“But never that. Far too personal for my tastes.” She took a sip of coffee and set the cup down at the edge of the desk. Adore attempted to apologize, but was quickly cut off. Besides, she needed to stop apologizing so much. “So what’s kept you here so long?”

Adore hesitated for a second, fidgeting with a few strands of her hair and trying her best not to do anything stupid like chew on it or accidentally knock that mostly full mug off of her workspace.

“Bianca? How do you normally go about grading things?”

“Just do what I do. Give your kids B-‘s and hope they don’t notice!”

“Wait really?”

“I kid, I kid. You made an answer key, right?”

“Yeah,” Adore held up a slip of paper marked entirely in red ink. On top of the answers, she had doodled some spirals and other simple drawings of cats.

“Are you sure that’s not someone’s quiz?”

The dirty blonde sheepishly looked away and shoved the answer key across the desk. “Yeah. Back to what I was saying, it’s been a while since I’ve even discussed these things. Who knows if one of these kids is, like, a savant? Like on some Rain Man or Mozart shit! For all I know they could prove me wrong. Kids are weird, man… I love ‘em, but-”

“They can surprise you, can’t they?” Bianca interrupted and sat back up.

Adore nodded in response. “I wasn’t expecting one of my kids to correct me.”

“Again, these little shits can surprise the hell out of you. I mean, was I ever going to expect a twelve year-old to memorize and present a soliloquy the first day of class? Nope, but it happened.”

“Well, then, what didya do about it?”

The more experienced teacher took her coffee off the desk and drank a long sip. “I… I was like this. Well, not exactly, there was a desk and- you get the gist. Anyway, back to the twelve year old. As I was going over my notes, I was in a bit of a rut. I just sat there for a while… tried taking my mind off of it as much as I could, but GOD!” Bianca paused again, her words having escaped her mind like a sock in the dryer. If she could recall correctly, that was her first year of teaching. She couldn’t quite recall all of the details, as she was still in a state of shock. “God, where was I?“

“What happened next?”

“Yeah, about a few minutes later, I finished up and emailed their parents. I told them to let them know their pride and joy was a smart cookie and to never let them forget that fact.”

“I-I guess I should do the same?”

“Probably, unless you wanna stay here all night and spend your weekend here. If so that’s fine by me.” Bianca stood back up and was about to put the folding chair back, but Adore stopped her. She walked over to the older teacher and gave her a giant hug.

“I’ll be done, I swear!” She mumbled into Bianca’s chest, then looked up as she realized she couldn’t hear her. “I just… don’t wanna be alone.”

“I’ll stay as long as you need me to, kid. Don’t worry.”

[vincent-g-writer]

The Silver Screen Savant, pt 2- the Meh, the Bad and The yikes.

Hello Writers!

Last time here on Starry Starry Write, I talked a little about Autism in the media and my personal experiences therein. Today, I’d like to go a little broader, and tackle the topic from a macro perspective.

In recent times, you’ve probably heard “Representation Matters” oft repeated. Especially in prominent talking spaces like social media. But what does that mean, exactly?

Why “Representation Matters,” and how.

The short answer:

Diverse representation in media tells us that everyone has a place in the world. That everyone’s story matters.

The long answer:

It’s no secret that we begin engaging with media at a young age. When I was growing up in the 90’s and 00’s, TV and video games were often the babysitters of my peers. I was one of the few kids in my neighborhood whose parents weren’t divorced. The kids I knew? Not so much. Most of them were raised by single parents, grandparents and of course-the boob tube. I personally prefered books, when my mom wasn’t yelling “it’s too nice out to be holed up in that dark bedroom!”

Now, don’t mistake my preference for some kind of intellectual superiority. I watched plenty of TV too. Besides, books aren’t magically out of the equation. Printed material is our oldest form of media. And- often just as problematic. Though I will say- I saw a much broader range of people on covers adoring library shelves than I ever did titles on a TV roster. But, I digress. The point is: for many of us, consuming media begins at an early time of our life. And that’s where the problem starts. Even in my childhood, where The Magic School Bus, Hey Arnold, and Sesame Street showed people of all kinds, I can point to many that did not. Especially not people like me. Which did me a grave disservice. I didn’t know I was on the spectrum for a long time, and when I finally found out, I was horrified, thanks to what I had seen on TV.

Because media is not only a wonderful way to learn about people that don’t look, act or sound like us. It also informs our ideas of who we are, and what we can be. Whether we like it or not: it shapes how we understand the world. And it doesn’t stop with Childhood.

Time Changes Much, but not all.

Things are better now. Well, a little bit, anyway.

As an adult, I see more people like me on the screen nowadays. Which is nice.

Ish.

Why “ish?” Well…

Frequently, these “noticeably different” characters (read: Autistically coded) are branded “NOT AUTISTIC!” You heard it here first, folks! That one character (insert your favorite) is Totally Not Autistic. Despite being written in a way that gives every indication otherwise.

*Facepalm*

Now for some examples, which we’ll call the “Meh,” “The Bad” and the “Yikes.” For “fun,” we’ll also go into the off-air perceptions of the characters.

The “Meh.”

First on the list is Dr. Spencer Reid, from CBS’s “Criminal Minds.”

Dr. Reid is the youngest member of the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, having joined at the age of 22. He holds three B.A degrees in Sociology, Psychology and Philosophy, as well as three Ph.D’s in Engineering, Chemistry, and Mathematics.

He also has the social skills of a limp dishrag. Wait, what’s that? High Intelligence + Low Social Awareness? Hmmm…Then there’s his restrictive behavioral patterns, obsessive interests, and general “quirkiness!” that we could talk about. But let’s hear a quote from the actor who plays him, Matthew Gray Gubler:

“..an eccentric genius, with hints of schizophrenia and minor autism, Asperger’s Syndrome. Reid is 24, 25 years old with three PH.D.s and one can’t usually achieve that without some form of autism.”

Hoooo-boy. I could go into all the things wrong with this, including why the term “Asperger’s” is both horrific (TW: Eugenics,Ableism, N*zis) and harmful. However, today we’ll simply leave it with the fact that this term is no longer applicable, having been reclassified in 2013 as part of Autism Spectrum disorder.

The “Bad.”

Next up, we have Will Graham, from NBC’s Hannibal.

Like our first example, Will works for the FBI. He’s a gifted criminal profiler with “special” abilities, namely hyper empathy, which allows him to reconstruct the actions and fantasies of the killers he hunts. He’s intellectually gifted, hates eye contact, socializing, and prefers to spend…most of his time…alone.

Oh dear. Haven’t we been here before? But, I mean, he doesn’t have Autism! The show runner says so!

For Will Graham, there’s a line in the pilot about him being on the spectrum of autism or Asperger’s, and he’s neither of those things. He actually has an empathy disorder where he feels way too much and that’s relatable in some way. There’s something about people who connect more to animals than they do to other people because it’s too intense for whatever reason.

You can’t see me right now, but I’m cringing. A lot. This is just…ugh. I mean, for starters, I know a handful of autistic people who struggle with hyper empathy, which can make social situations overwhelming and hard to navigate. In fact, I happen to be one of them. Plus, there’s a cool little thing about how, frequently, people on the spectrum more readily identify with animals. But, y’know. Who am I to say? I’m just someone, one of many, who’s dealt with this my whole life.

Now, onto the “Yikes.”

*sigh*

And finally, we have BBC’s Sherlock, a modern adaptation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s renowned “consulting” detective, and probably the most famous fictional character of all time.

Now, I’ll start by saying that the BBC incarnation is not the first to be Spectrum labeled. In fact, Sherlock was my childhood hero, and the first “person” I saw referred to this way. My aunt, an avid reader herself, casually remarked to a friend “I’ve always wondered if Holmes is Autistic,” after I came yammering on about how fantastic the books were. Had I not been champing at the bit to get back to my reading, I might have asked her what that meant.

I also believe this fandom driven speculation is why many detective type characters (see above) are often coded as Autistic, intentionally or otherwise.

In this New York Times article, Lisa Sanders, M.D. describes Holmes traits:

He appears oblivious to the rhythms and courtesies of normal social intercourse — he doesn’t converse so much as lecture. His interests and knowledge are deep but narrow. He is strangely “coldblooded,” and perhaps as a consequence, he is also alone in the world.

Now, before we go any father, let me take a moment to defend his creator. During the time Sir Arthur Conan Doyle first created his most famous work, Autism was not known. That isn’t to say it didn’t exist. We’ve always existed. In fact, it’s now believed that the Changeling Myth, a common European folk story, was a way to explain Autism. In one telling (there are a few) children displaying “intelligence beyond their years” and “uncanny knowledge” were imposters, traded out by Fae creatures for offspring of their own. Children believed to be “Changlings,” regretfully, often came to a bad end. A chilling reminder that the stories we tell impact our real lives.

So while Autism was at least somewhat recognized, it did not become its own official diagnosis until 1943.

Meanwhile, Sherlock Holmes was first published in 1892. Now, as a writer who often draws from my personal reality, I imagine Doyle probably “wrote what he knew,” which is to say, acquainted with one or more Autistic people, he used them as inspiration.

On the other hand…

BBC’s Sherlock first aired in 2010. And while one might argue that the writers simply capitalized on the Autistic fan-theory, or took already available traits and exaggerated them for their version… they left a lot to be desired. Autism aside, this new Sherlock is…well…an asshole. Narcissistic, abusive and egocentric (to name a few) he sweeps his caustic behavior under the rug of “high functioning sociopath,” and blytly ignores the consequences.

Which is a major problem. Because while doing this, he’s still “obviously” (at least in the Hollywood sense) Autistic. In my previous post, where I said some characters are “too smart™, and logical© to ever have feelings, friends or empathy,” this is what I meant.

This is bad. We’re looping right back to Representation Matters. Bad representation, and the navigating of such, is just as important for writers to think about as good representation. Maybe even moreso. Because bad representation paints real people into cardboard, stereotyped people-shaped things. It otherizes. And it’s harmful. You would not believe the people I’ve met assume I’m not Autistic because I’m not an egotistical jerk. Why? Because they watched, you guessed it, BBC Sherlock.

Confession time:

Now here’s my little secret:

I love all of these characters. They are some of my favorite on tv. Why? Because for good or ill, I recognize myself in them. Finally, I can turn on the TV, and see myself. Or, somewhat, anyway.

My favorite character out of this list? Loath though I am to admit it… Is Sherlock. See, what those well meaning folks didn’t know (the ones who say I’m I’m “too nice,” to be Autistic) is… well, if we’re being honest, I wasn’t always nice. A few years ago, I was that guy. I was a jerk because I thought I was the smartest person in the room. Which is really not a good look. In fact, sitting down and watching the first season of sherlock, (around three or four years after it came out) made me realize how much of a jerk I actually was.

There are other things there too. Things that tie me to all these characters, that I didn’t list. But that’s for another today.

For now, I’d like to add a caveat or two:

1) I’ve watched all the shows listed above, and adore them. As I mentioned, Sherlock is my favorite. He’s also the one I’ve watched the most (Repeatedly, in fact. Whoops.) and I recognize it’s not all bad. In the end, he learned to treat people better (somewhat) and certainly became more human over time. And, there are other deeply problematic elements of the show I’d like to tackle, eventually.

*cough* Queerbating! *cough*

2) I’m well aware that the above cases are all thin, white, able bodied, “straight” males. But I chose these characters for a couple of reasons. One, they’re the most prominent type on TV. Again, we loop back around to representation, and why we need more positive, diverse examples of it.

And finally-

3) In my last post, I mentioned I’d give some “good” instances of Hollywood Autism trope. But I didn’t exactly do that. Partially, because half way through, I thought…perhaps…I’m not the best to judge what might be a good Autistic character. I mean, I’m sure someone will read this and think my current aforementioned characters are fine. Heck! They might even argue my perception here, and say the characters are just fine. I accept that. In my life, both on and off the page, I recognize that I cannot, should not (and don’t want to) speak for an entire community.

Because of this, I cannot tell you how to write a “good” Autistic character, or what media is “acceptable.” I can’t even really tell you what a bad character is. Sure, I have a lot of opinions about it. But- if you’re on the spectrum and like and identify with the above? That’s fine. I mean, even with all the problems I noted (and some I didn’t) I certainly do.

On the other hand, if you’re a writer, and you want to write a character from this (or any, for that matter) community you aren’t part of, I caution you.

Do your research. Preferably from multiple credible sources.

Talk to people on the spectrum about what it’s really like. (Though try to steer clear of asking for emotional labor.You could, say, hop on reddit and ask the community there, for instance, which is a no pressure way to obtain potentially decent info.)

Finally, whatever you do, remember this-

Autistic people can look like anyone. We can act, and think and be different, like anyone. We are real, living, breathing people. Not robots, not sob stories, not tropes. People. So if you write about us, write us like people. And your work will be all the better for it.

-Your Loving Vincent

[windwardstar]

Hi, I'm autistic and I've been recycling an old story I wrote before I was diagnosed or even fully knew what autism was. This story has one character who fits into the stereotype of the autistic guy with savant-level intelligence and an ability with computers (I think this happened bc I identified pretty heavily with these characters I just didn't know why back then). Anyway, I've been trying to make him a bit less stereotyped, but he's still a genius with tech skills... Do you think it's ok?

You’re probably good.

The problem with the whole “genius + tech + autistic” thing is that it’s usually either done because people go “autistic well that means must be genius and great with technology” and then continue to pile on stereotypes without creating the fleshed out character. Or they go “genius + tech, let’s then throw in all these autistic coded things and then say this character can’t be autistic because this character is liked” and then go on to continue to view/portray autism as this sterotypical thing while distancing the character from it despite the character being clearly autistic coded to people who actually understand autism.

Like I’m guessing your original idea probably had some of the “I’m pulling from stereotypes because these are established frameworks society pulls from” to get autistic/coded + genius + computers, but it sounds like you’re putting in effort to make the character not a stereotype and make him an actual character. 

You’re likely already doing these since they’re diversifying the representation 101 but give the character a special interest outside of computers (also a possibility, the tech skills came about because they intersected with a special interest and computers aren’t the spin itself: example the real spin is video games, learning how to make computers work to make a really good gaming system or make their own game), have people who share one or two of the traits but not the third/other two.

Another thing that’s often thrown into the mix with this grouping of stereotypes is that the character is an asshole. specifically the “they’re so smart they don’t know how to relate to people, they have no people skills, and so are assholes to everyone because they don’t care” which like basically every time it’s applied to a “genius” character the character invariably ends up being autistic coded (I’ve got a long tangent rant about the whole “their problems with social skills is because they’re so Smart TM they just can’t relate to normal people” while refusing to breathe the word autistic if y’all wanna hear that some time.) and then when applied to explicity canon autistic characters is just used to demonize autistic people because obviously if you’re autistic you have no empathy which makes you a horrible person who doesn’t care about being rude. Basically. The whole thing is ripe with ableism and stereotypes. Also there’s the “person is better with computers than people and is so rude and often creepy- but also generally autistic coded here” thing that comes from the tech angle. So I’d suggest not having the character fit into any of those personality stereotypes since they’re all steeped in ableism. (Of course this doens’t mean you can’t show the autistic struggles with social shit, just y’know, show them in a way that’s not the character just being an asshole and demonizing autistic people + low/no empathy).

[watchinghannibal]

Season 1 Episode 3

I will go back and do eps 1 and 2, but this idea came to me now and I gotta write it.

I started this blog ‘cuz I’ve heard such good things about this show. I was excited it was coming to Netflix, but I sat in shock at the first two episodes. What in god’s name is happening on this tv show????? I’ll type my reaction as I actually watch the episode.

Background: I’m a psychology/psychiatry researcher, I am no expert but hope to be one day. I hope to go to grad school to get a PhD in social/clinical psychology.

Okay I just introduced myself as a psychologist but this rant HAS to start with the deer hunting. I grew up in Arkansas and I know a bit about deer hunting, and a lot about duck hunting. This might actually be a good place to start because I have a feeling that what angers me about this deer hunting scene is gonna anger me time and time again.

If you take 2 seconds out of your life to google-research deer hunting, you’ll immediately discover that these two big shots are giant idiots. They are not wearing hi-vis (that bright orange) and are barely wearing any camo. They also appear to be standing in the middle of an open field???? You need to HIDE from deer you doofus they don’t like humans. Because we shoot them.

I’m sure there’s miles of metaphors that this girl is shooting a female deer, but to me it just feels like a huge eye roll. We get it they hate women. She also aims for the head??? One of the smallest parts of the body? You gotta shoot the heart baby girl. 

Okay they are talking about how deer are like humans. If deer were like humans why aren’t there deer cities. And then just in case you did not understand their cryptic speak, Jumbo Idiot literally says, “They’re a lot like us”. Why, sir, did you waste my time comparing deer to humans if at the end you were just gonna come out an say “They’re a lot like us”. Seems wasteful.

WeRe GoNnA hOnOr HeR

Papa do not make me do this, DAUGHTER you sweet little daisy child HER MEAT IS OUR HONOR lemme give you a kiss mwah.

I guess this blog is better consumed while you actually watch the episode.

Will the hot, doggo man is once again in panties. In case you didn’t notice, Will says he will go “cover himself”, you know, like real humans tend to say.

This woman creeps me out. She reminds me of the handful of women who go into ABA to work with autistic kids and then claim they are in love with their patient/client. They have this need to fix people, they think they are the light at the end of the tunnel, the prophet who will actually reach these kids when no one else has. The way she protects Will and hangs around him, stares at him.

Oh hell yes Crawford. This man is certifiable. I absolutely love the plain, stupid US map on his office wall. Quality art. This dude... thinks Will is a savant who is walking the edge of a psychopath. I gotta say, what edge is he talking about? There is no spectrum that goes from psychopath to normal to Asberger’s. It’s like they.... did not understand anything about personality psychology or psychopathology. I mean, I can’t say I didn’t expect that, not everyone is an expert. This is just like the deer hunting - a few minutes researching online woulda cleared this up.

I WILL NEVER LIE TO YOU - OH BITCH SHE GOT YOU! SOUNDS LIKE SOMETHING A LIAR WOULD SAY!!!! This sexy reporter is the first person to say the murderer was sick. This girl is so smart though she would never talk to a reporter. Get outta the room!!!

You shot my dad so yes I do remember you, sorry. Why is she walking like she has been in a wheelchair her whole life. I love the little ascot scarf to cover her HORRIBLE scar, how nice. “I’m gonna be messed up, aren’t I” - what your character says when you don’t know how to show instead of tell.

Will grimaces as he TRIES SO HARD not to tell this girl that he enjoyed killing Jumbo Idiot.

I’m so sorry for my sexy reporting UwU. I can undo all the weird things I’ve done! Literally, why does the FBI care at all about this sexy reporter??????? She wrote one article about Will being sus as fuck and the FBI is like this sexy woman has to die. If I had been in that room with Dr. Lecter where he scolded me like a schoolgirl and took my purse, I’d be writing a 10,000 word essay on this creepo psychiatrist who wildly and without abandon “psychoanalyzes” everyone in his path and is enabling unstable people.

Oh no the graffiti, oh wait they did not clean the blood up yikes. Bye mom. Okay can we talk about how this girl is a better actor than anyone else. She seems the most real to me too. Everyone else is like wacko. Dr. Mom says we can go if you like and the smart, intelligent girl is like go where you bozo??? A homeless shelter? This is my house! Damn she is interrogating Will. Okay RIGHT after I said this girl was real she became typical Teenager with spite in her words.

Dr. Mom jumps in to protect her hubby-son Will who must be protected. LOL Dr. Mom straight up told the girl that she can share craziness. I guess she’s a mom only to Will. Everyone else can Suck It.

THE MAN ON THE PHONE????????????? OH BITCH SHE KNOWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DR. LECTER SHE KNOWS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Why do people think this girl did this? Uh this man ain’t okay fucking run girl. Yes, piss off but also run. Oh he didn’t even have a gun what a loser. Ooh this feisty girl says bad words to her mom, another Teenager with spite in her words.

Why do we deserve to watch Will dream about killing girls? Honestly there are so many murdered women why give us more? Oh no did he feed human to this poor girl. Dr. Mom finally steps in, geez she really is stone cold when it’s not Will. Oh did that strange man kill her friend? 

Does Crawford REALLY FUCKING THINK THIS GIRL MURDERED HER FRIEND???????????? What the fuck man leave her alone. Uh Dr. Lecter would be HONORED to privately escort the girl that knows he called her dad before he went crazy. Oh damn she’s still alive.

Sexy reporter is just allowed anywhere I guess. I guess she’s just too sexy. Girl close the fucking blinds there is paparazzi. Oops. BIG OOPS.

Classic man move - I DIDN’T KILL HER I WON’T HURT YOU *slams her against a wall* oh SHIT LECTER? I guess this show is good in the sense that it is genuinely exciting at times.

This is good psychology. This manipulation right here.

She’s like I think I’d prefer to stay up here as far as possible from you with my little scarf. This Teenager is gonna figure out the premise to the whole show and then die isn’t she?? Ugh.

Well, thanks if you read this. I’m gonna do ep 4 and eventually (or maybe never) I’ll go back and do ep 1 and 2.

[twiggusdickus]

Commander Week: Legacy

Kosdde barrelled through life - childhood in Hoelbrak, college in Rata Sum, winning Snaff Savant a year later - and then you know the rest. She never really had a moment to just sit and digest things in peace (gender crisis in school? It’s more likely than you think).

So she fears being used as a positive example for asura - like yeah ofc ur meant to work all the time uwu. She hates that and wishes she’d had more time... feels like she’s wasted her life orz

What do you think how Tyria will view your Commander centuries into the future? Will they go down in history as a positive figure, or will they become a cautionary tale? Is your Commander concerned about their legacy at all? What would they want to be known for most to future generations? Or would they rather not be remembered at all?

Mundvarr wakes with a start, roused by their own name, whispered and harsh and urgent. “Munny, wake up!” little clawed hands grab their shoulders and shake violently - they blink and Kosdde’s sleep-addled face blurs into view. “Munny!” “What,” they wince, and finally she stops shaking them. Only now do they notice the sun is still down outside - an ungodly hour, Mundvarr decides with a twitch of a frown. “What is wrong?” Suddenly, Kosdde almost appears bashful, “It’s silly, but I have to talk to you. With you.” Concerned at the gravity in her voice, Mundvarr sits up, “Of course, of course,” they turn to light the lamp beside their bed, noticing in the dull glow that Kosdde’s own sheets lay strewn about the floor. Their frown deepens.

“Munny-“ “I’m listening,” they assure. “When I die,” Oh. “Kos?” She ignores them, “When I die, I need you to do one thing for me. Just one. Or make sure someone does it - I don’t care who.” “Of course,” far too ready to offer allegiance, too eager to serve. But Mundvarr looks at Kosdde and realises that this one time, it may just be fine. “I need you to make sure I become a cautionary tale to all asura. If you hear a single one of them praising the route my life took…” something desperate crosses her face, “Please, you cannot let them do that. Please, I-“ “Kos,” I can’t listen to this anymore. “You speak as if you have already died,” A humourless chuckle, “Well, everyone has to someday. I’m assuming there’s a place in the Mists for me, as there is for everyone else.”

A long moment, rolling their sister’s words over in their mind - then, “If that is what you want, I will make sure it is done.” An expression of immense relief overtakes Kosdde’s face, and for the first time that night, she relaxes. “Thank you,” some clarity returns to her face, “That brings me a lot of peace.” I’ve noticed. Instead, “Why the sudden panic?” Another laugh, but warmer this time, “Ah, I had a dream about it. Some stupid professor going on and on,” she pinches her nose, voice turning nasal, “Ah, there you are, progeny! Have you heard the tale of Kosdde the… Smart?” Mundvarr snorted, “Yes, yes - she was most excellent! Spent all her time working and then became a legend, yes she did. That is what you should strive to be,” her face falls, and she lets go of her nose, “This is the best way to be.”

“I see now,” “Yeah.” A pause, “I’m sure you’ll be remembered for a lot more than just that, Kos.” “Yeah, I guess the dragons and all that are kinda-“ “No, no - I mean as a person. You think the skalds spend all their time singing about being good at school? Or slaying dragons?” “You know I always fell asleep…” Mundvarr sighs, “They’ll sing of your character, Kosdde. Of who you were and to whom you were those things,” they smile, “Plus, you know I can sing just fine - your legacy is already all set! You have no need to worry.”

For a moment, Kosdde’s lower lip trembles, eyes foggy with tears, “Aw, Munny,” she leaps into their arms and hugs them tightly, “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

[raviposting]

Gina linetti

Why I like them Gina really tells it like it is, and she’s honestly just so smart. She really gets those chances to shine with saving the precinct, hiring an IT person, figuring out what to say to the kids in the program. And when she does like you, she’ll fight for you and I love that

Why I don’t It definitely took me a while to warm up to her, and I’m going to be honest, while other characters leaving would probably be a blow to me, Gina’s weren’t? Her comments would border on/straight up be rude or sometimes she’d be way too much so that would turn me off at times

Favorite episode (scene if movie) I’d say the episode where she helps to find an IT person and picks Savant :) 

Favorite season/movie Hmmm. I’m honestly not sure I have one?

Favorite line Okay no hard feelings, but I hate you. Not joking. Okay byeeeeee

Favorite outfit I weirdly love the red outfit when she was in the head brace lmao 

OTP Ehhhh I don’t have one? I like the idea of Dianetti so I guess them? 

Brotp Her and Charles!!! I love (ex) siblings wow. Also her and Jake but we rarely got to see that dynamic I feel like 

Head Canon She is a Ravenclaw. Holt is offended, at first, that she and he are in the same house, but Gina is a Ravenclaw for sure. Seriously just see why I like her. Girl is smart, values it, and she could be a Slytherin, sure, but I love love love the thought of her being in Ravenclaw and a character like Amy being in Slytherin and her and Holt being bitter about it lmao 

Unpopular opinion There are people who really don’t like her and I guess I get it but besides her being a bit much I did still genuinely like her

A wish Mmm I wanna see her kiddo!!!! 

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen I mean I wouldn’t want her to die lmao

5 words to best describe them Sarcastic, dramatic, petty, hilarious, and queen

My nickname for them I don’t have one!

Send me a character! // My fandoms