#logicallity

[moondeew]

I have no explanation for this just wanted to draw Patton carrying the other sides

ignore how each one is kind of a diffrent style lol- especially Janus’s cuz that’s the only one I used an actual reference for

Ofc Roman had to be carried princess-style

[arendellxiced]

Logan: *trying to fix something*

Logan: Could you give me a hand?

Patton: Sure!

Patton: *grabs logan’s hand and hold it*

Logan:

Logan: You’re cute, but that’s not what i meant.

[stressballegg]

cat in the wall (s5e9 + s7e11 + s8e3 + s10e5 + s12e3 + s13e12 + s16e1 + s9e8)

[randomnerd737]

I feel like the fact that Patton got his cat hoodie from Logan is not used nearly enough. imagine the angst potential. imagine Logan going apeshit™  and Patton clutches his hoodie and Logan just kind of looks at him in disgust. I don't ship logicallity but the ship potential there is golden.

[karolinswritings]

Loved the Mello hc’s! Would love to see more!

You ask and you shall recieve! Should I do Mello X Reader Headcanons too?..

Death Note Mello Headcanons Part 2

In my previous post I mentioned I headcanon that he listens to The Cure. The songs by them I think he would like the most would be I Want, Primary, Faith and Pictures Of You.

Moreover about his music tase, I think he would listen to The Sweet Kill to, especially the songs Love, Rain and Heart Attack.

He likes documentaries and crime shows.

He likes perfumes that smells like roses. Other fragurances he likes are vanilla, chocolatte, musk, sandalwood, lavendar and orange.

Skilled at cooking, baking and pretty much everything else he engages in doing. If there does happen to be something he isn't good at though he would put the blame on the activity, walking away and saying something sort of: "That's stupid anyway."

His texts are always gramatically correct. Rarely uses emojis. Basically the opposite of Matt.

A great listener and very good at memorising stuff that his s/o said they like or want. He will probably buy them those stuff soon after they mention them, or if he doesn't have the opppurtunity to do that he would just give them cash so that they can buy them themselves.

Falls in love rarely, but when he does it is always love at first sight. He is very logicall and analytical, but he also trusts his intuition. So when his s/o entered the room and he first saw them he immidietly knew. He saw it all, it hit him like a truck. They are his, from the very moment he laid eyes on them.

He is usually quiet, calm and likes to listen rather than to talk. But with the right people around him, like Matt, he loosens up and starts yapping about this and that, pretty much everything that passes through his mind. If he trusts someone, he can be very open and talkative.

Loves praise and compliments, but never asks for them. He isn't a show off, but he recieves compliments naturally for his intelect, but the praise that he loves the most is about his personality, especially coming from his s/o.

Doesn't like spicy food. He likes homecooked food the most of all, for example stew.

Loves ice cream, chocolate flavour. Thinks mint chocolate is weird.

Very humble.

Patient and calm.

A huge tease, but this is for another type of headcanon ^^

Puts his dreams before anything, even before his most loved people and even himself. Proving himself as number one is the thing he strives for the most, and he wishes for nothing more than to achieve that.

[hannah-muzi]

So i have never just made a like opinion post but.

My tma opinion is that that whole

"She did not hesitate" thing is not at all surpising like. Gertrude literally went all the way up there with him over an I asume good amount of time. (It has been a while since i listened to the episode i am sorry)

But like she spent so much time getting up there with michael ... off course she is not gonna hesitate why would anybody be suprised. I surely wasn't.

It was her plan and she did it.

Pop of girlboss i love gertrude.

(No hate against michael or anything of course it was shit for him i am just saying that i do think its quite logicall that she did not hesitate since that would just be. 1st not in character in my opinion and 2nd a waste of time and energy put in a plan)

[rogueportraits]

The idea of running away to join the carnival is something quaintly historical with a dash of romanticism. Midway Touring Entertainment gets a few kids every stop that slip away from their parents and beg some ride attendant or performer to join up and tour the country. They’ve got childhood ideas about riding the attractions after dark or petting tamed lions – this particular carnival’s an animal-free establishment, excepting personal pets – and cry buckets when refused.

Ed’s of the personal belief that they should just take the kids along for a day or two, show them the real behind-the-scenes, and scare little middle-class Jimmy or Susie right back into a fine life of some white-collar office job two decades down the line. Unfortunately, that’s generally considered kidnapping, and MTE would highly prefer the law stay as far away as possible. He picks at a particularly stalwart hangnail and kicks his foot up on the dashboard. They’re about three hours out of Minot, having gotten the state fair contract another year in a row, and the only thing he likes about North Dakota is that the summer’s cool enough that he won’t be swimming in sweat. To the left of him, Jack starts grumbling and lifts his hand off the wheel.

“Can’t see with your shoes in the way, kid,” Jack makes a shooing motion. “You want an airbag through your knee?”

Ed’s eighteen years old, thank you very much, and his ID says he’s the ripe old age of twenty-one, so in either respect he’s not a kid. Unfortunate facial acne notwithstanding. He bites at his hangnail, rolls the window down, and spits it out into empty interstate air as he swings his leg back down. There’s the rustling of discarded fast-food wrappers against his shoes. “You threatening me?”

“Not anymore.”

Jack fiddles with the busted radio, tuning it to some local FM station playing this summer’s insipid pop hit. The highway stretches out in front of them, heat miraging strange shapes on the horizon. Ed can see the fractured reflections of their convoy in the right rear-view mirror, other cars and trailers and hauling trucks snaking away into the clear sky. He’ll be expected to help with set-up tonight, obviously, and tomorrow too. Probably some painting as well, considering the state of a few attractions. Then a week of his own particular schtick on the midway, a few days of teardowns, and back on the road to do it all over again. He digs in the car door for a lukewarm pop and twists off the cap, proffering it as driver’s tribute.

“You’re alright, kid,” Jack says, like they haven’t been working together since Ed was sixteen and gangly. He sips at it and blanches. “This isn’t.”

“I’ll go stick my neck into the gas station fridge next time,” Ed replies with a shrug. “Nothing but the best for my dear old driver.”

Jack tips the bottle up in a pastiche of enjoyment, snorting, and returns his eyes to the road.

The moon’s centered in the sky by the time Ed’s gotten through his set-up checklist. He’d scrambled up and over various half-assembled rides, checking bolts and greasing mechanisms – can’t have a lawsuit on their hands – and put off some of the detail work for when there’s sunlight. Playing passenger has its drawbacks, but the less cops that get a look at “Edward Neilsen’s” ID card the better. Not that he’s a bad driver, of course.

Ed belongs to the other class of wannabe carnival runaways. He opens the trailer door without the hinges squeaking. It’s not his trailer, because his paydays would have to have at least one more zero on their totals for anything like that, but Jack and his wife have a secondhand couch that suits him just fine. He sprawls across it in a show of exhausted decadence. Pale moonlight lances through a smoke-clouded window, cutting across his torso.

He’s not enough of an idiot to call this a charmed life, like some of the last generation of carnies. It’s work, and it’s a type of work that means he doesn’t stick in one place long enough to make an impression – all the better, logically. There’s more than a few people who’d like to find him for various reasons. Carnie work pays, it doesn’t ask questions about his age or point of origin, and the rest of this traveling group of vagabonds generally doesn’t try to deck him for a smart comment or three. That’s good enough for him. Ed rolls off the couch and pads over to the minifridge, acquiring a can of Pabst. Drinking after work and underage are two time-honored American traditions, after all. He pops the top of the can with a gas-leak hiss and heads back outside.

The night air is cold against his clammy skin. He sips at his beer and stares out towards the flickering lights of town.

Ed can do carnival patter in his sleep. He leans on his prop cane, discreetly stretching out his numb leg, and surveys the midway tourists.

“Step right up! Tired of testing your skill – test mine! Age, weight, height, profession, I’ll get 'em all… and if I don’t, you score!”

The main difficulty with being a carnival guesser is attracting marks. Ed’s stationed himself at the far end of the midway, after all the various citizenry of North Dakota have exhausted their efforts at games-of-skill. He offers them a chance to watch someone else fail. In theory, at least – he’s very good at this gig. He makes eye contact with a tired father-of-two and grins, stepping to the front of his booth.

“How about you? Care to see if you can stump me?”

And there’s the flicker of light in the other man’s eyes. Easy.

“Sure. Do you, ah, do all of them?”

Sensitive about his weight, then. Maybe the guy could afford to cut back on the funnel cake in that case, but heavens (and his paycheck) forbid Ed offer that advice. “Not at all. Your pick, and if I could take a ticket…?”

The man bites at the edge of his lip, tearing off a ticket from what probably used to be a much larger roll. “Age and job, then?”

“Of course.” Ed makes a grand show of scrutinizing, leaning forward and worrying his hands on the question-mark crook of his cane. Two kids, one about eight and the other being carried, no wife and – hah! – no wedding ring. Shirt with an atrocious tropical print, but a pager in his back pocket. Easy. “About thirty-three and in office work, right? Management?”

The man gapes, then rallies. “Thirty-five. But, uh, yeah.”

Really, Ed would have guessed thirty-six, but he’s had to duck one too many swings from daydrunk locals mad about his accuracy. He shoots the man a hundred-watt smile.

“I can’t believe it! I can’t take a peek at your ID, can I?”

Flush on winning, the man obliges by handing over his wallet. Jason Phillips, resident of Velva, ND. Thirty-five. Ed considers some legerdemain and decides against it – Jason’s clearly not been availing himself of the concession-center beer.

“Well, my loss is your gain,” reach back, grab some cheap prize in the form of a plush owl-thing, present it with a theatrical bow, he’s done it a thousand times this season, “and thank you for playing!”

The man meanders off. Ed debates the merits of putting his head in the gears of the carnival’s tilt-a-whirl. Minot is as boring as every other state fair. He gets the next player’s – some giggling college co-ed that looks at him like used gum – weight right. Hard not to with a leeway of five pounds on either side, and a scale that runs two pounds lighter. She’d probably laugh less if she knew her wallet were about ten bucks lighter as well.

He doesn’t consider his side hustle stealing, necessarily. If someone’s dumb enough to hand over their wallet to a carnie and look away, they don’t deserve spare cash.

Anyways, if it were up to him, he wouldn’t be stuck at the ass-end of the midway playing guessing games. He’d have a bigger booth with a better locale, and he’d do riddles. Maybe some lighting, too – he’s always been partial to green. He swigs from his water bottle and watches the ebb and flow of the crowd. He’d do riddles. There’s an art to them that there isn’t to his current gig. A good riddle has one clear answer, but with enough creativity one or two more can crop up. A good riddle has nice, defined boundaries, but doesn’t care about what you do inside of them. It’d take more tickets, too, because if there’s one thing the past two years and change have taught him it’s that people are brainless idiots who can’t see the truth even if it’s spelled out in flashing lights. Which suits him just fine.

Ed coughs slightly, testing to see if his voice holds, and steps forward to start up his patter once again.

[enderfox55]

Past 9pm thoughts

Currently watching star trek(1966) with a friend and we're on the topic of vulkan reproduction.

do you think while during the deed they stay emotionally composed or do they allow themselves to become vulnerable???

"oh good golly, this is most logicalable...." -said friend

(i am not a star trek fan, we're watching the armok time after not even getting through 12 minutes of star trek(2022) )

[mutant-advice]

cant tell if u the mod think mutini is a good person or not

mutinis liek. moral vibe is in that super weird spot where liek logicall sepakign yu KNOW this is a mass murderer who killed litereally hundreds of ppl. but liek when you taelk to them shes liek whimsical/silly enough that you ALMOST forget that if she rlly wanted to she could track down & kill you before the sun rose without losing a bit of sleep. jsust another kill added to the cull count.

[fabiansteinhauer]

Rosen blühen

1.

a rose is arose. Die Rose (eine Blüte) der Syllogismen von Peter von Spanien aus Summulae logicales von 1400 sowie die Windrose aus einem Codex der Abtei in Peterborough (Petersburg), die um 1122 entstand sind Diagramme, die das Wissen polar und meteorologisch erscheinen lassen. Das Wissen taucht mit und auf einem Objekt wahrnehmbar auf und wieder ab.

2.

Die Formen solcher Rosen tauchen in Codices auf, aber auch an Fassaden, nämlich an Tempelfassaden. Das sind Fassaden einer Basilika, Messehalle oder Kirche. Solche Fassaden sind Scheidewände in Städten, die gefaltet sind (also in Plicities).

Das heißt, dass so eine Scheidewand wiederholt und wiederholt wird. So eine Scheidewand wiederholt das Stadttor, wiederholt Zugang und Ausgang. Alberti wird diese Wiederholung mit der Fassade von St. Andrea in Mantua nicht klarstellen, denn die Literatur hat das schon vor ihm geklärt. Er wird diese Wiederholung architektonisch deutlich herausschälen und pointieren, als wolle er sie auf den Kern bringen. So eine Scheidewand wird am Übergang zum Altarraum wiederholt. Die Capella Dourada in Lisboa macht das so deutlich, wie Alberti das mit der Fassade von St. Andrea in Mantua deutlich macht.

Mantua und Lisboa sind zerstreute und wenige Beispiele aus Städten eines römischen Einzugsgebietes. Daraus ein Gesetz oder eine Regel abzuleiten, ist nicht wegen der Zerstreuung oder der Seltenheit der Beispiele schwierig. Das ist schwierig, weil Gesetze und Regeln immer schwierig sind. Die Zerstreuung und das Knappe der Anwendungsfälle zeigen so eine Schwierigkeit nur auf schlecht ignorierbare Weise. Scheidewände liegen auf einer Strecke, sie sind Scheidewände in Raum und Zeit. Dass sie sich wiederholen sollen, das wird wohl daran liegen, dass erstens nichts ohne Grund sein soll - dass darum sogar nicht nur urbane und zivile, sondern auch pastorale und barbarische Räume und Zeiten gegründet sein und Gründe haben, etwas prinzipiell sein sollen. Zweitens sollen die Gründe effektiv sein, wenn ratio Technik ist, Technik Routine und Routine (wie Latour sagt) detour/ umwegig involvierte Wiederholung.

Wo Strecken zurückgelegt werden, da sind Protokolle. Dass Fassaden Fassaden, Scheidewände Scheidewände, Tore Tore und Passagen Passagen wiederholen, mag als Gesetz schwierig zu fassen sein. Dann sind eventuell die Protokolle leichter zu fassen. Eventuell muss man zur Klärung solcher Fragen nicht auf Gesetzbücher, sondern aufKarten und Kalender, nicht auf Gesetzestafeln, sondern auf Tabellen, Listen und Register zurückgreifen.

Solchen Fragen gelten die Forschung zu Recht, Rhetorik und Ästhetik u.a. bei Heiner Mühlmann (1968/1981); die Forschung zu Akten bei Cornelia Vismann (die solche Effekte, Wiederholungen und Protokolle in ihrer Dissertation mit den Begriffen Referenzstruktur und Begehren assoziiert). Die Forschungen zur Geschichte und Theorie gründlicher Linien (gründlicher Trajekte/ gründlich zügiger Formen), etwa zum pomerium, gelten solchen Fragen. Das pomerium ist, daran hat Thomas Vesting in einem Kommentar zu Vismann erinnert, politisch. Das ist es aber nur, soweit es auch poliert, polar, polite, polizeilich, polizid und polaroid ist, soweit die Gründlichkeit also mit polis/ polus vernüpft ist.

3.

Ich interessiere mich für solche Rosen nicht, um Eigenheiten zu fassen, um an ihnen die Eigenschaften von Bildern und Eigenschaften von Worten, um Eigenschaften der Zivilisation von Eigenschaften der Barbarei kategorial, d.h. unter dem Dogma der großen Trennung zu unterscheiden. Ich will damit nicht sicherstellen oder garantieren, dass eine bereits vorhandene Unterscheidung zwischen richtig und falsch richtig bleibt und nicht falsch wird. Ich will nicht garantieren, dass Linke nicht rechts abbiegen und Rechte nicht links abbiegen und der Rest wie immer glaubt, er fahre gerade, richtig und straight. Ich beschäftige mich damit nicht, um die Gründe dafür zu klären, warum der Westen einen Take-Off hingelegt haben soll; nicht um zu klären, wann, wo und wie lange Ordnungen des Westen ausdifferenziert waren.

Ich beschäftige mich damit, weil ich (wie andere) den Take-Off des Westens für ein Gerücht halte und Gerüchte nicht für etwas, was es in Wirklichkeit nicht gäbe. Gerüchte sind Meteorologien. Ausdifferenzierung halte ich nicht für einen Begriff von Wahnsinnigen, aber für den Begriff eines melancholischen und damit missenden Diskurses. Ich assoziiere Rosen aus Codices, die einmal etwas von Logik, einmal etwas vom Wind zu wissen geben, mit Rosen, die an Fassaden von Kirchen vorkommen, weil ich an einem Recht interessiert bin, das rege, sogar selber ein Regen (eine Bewegung) ist.

4.

Man muss die Tafel solcher Rosen drehen, um sie lesen zu können. Bild und Text sind dort durchgehend (diagrammatische) und vorübergehend lesbar, anhaltend ist jeweils anderes lesbar. Rekursiv wird etwas von Polarität und Meteorologie zu wissen gegeben, in dem die Tafel auch polar und meteorologisch gehandhabt wird. Man dreht die Rosen unterschiedlich, je nachdem ob sie in Codices oder an Kirchen vorkommen. Ihr Gebrauch hat aber immer mit drehender Regung zu tun.

Die Abbildungen stammen aus The Diagramm as Paradigma. Wenn Diagramme Paradigmen sind, dann als Diagramme, also nicht auf allgemeine Art und Weise. Ein Paradigma bekommt dann diagrammatische Züge. Das Digma und das Dogma sind zwei verwechselbare Begriffe. Sagen die Leute Paradigma, kann Paradogma mit gemeint sein. Ihr Verhältnis ist, wie dasjenige zwischen Mahlen und klammen Sendungen, wie zwischen i und o ein Verhältnis, das durch Trennung, Assoziation und Austausch erscheint. Digma nennt man zum Beispiel die Schilder, die in der notitia dignitatum auftauchen, da sind es codes of arms, Wappen, Marken oder Kompetenzausweise. Dogma nennt man Schein, Schirm oder Schild. Paradigmen und Paradogmen können zum Beispiel Parasiten oder paradox sein. Wenn das alles Züge eines Diagramms hat, dann ist es durchgehend oder kreuzend. Das Paradigma ist in dem Sinne kein Leitbild, kein prinzipielles oder souveränes Bild. Es ist in dem Sinne ein durchgehendes, durchziehendes, vorübergehendes, passierendes, kreuzendes Bild.

Die beiden abgebildeten Rosen sind Polobjekte, die das Lesbare nicht nur durchgehen lassen, sondern auch vorübergehen lassen. Die Rosen organisieren den Raum und die Zeit des Bildes, sie haben kartographische und kalendarische Funktionen. Ist Rose Begriff oder Metapher? A rose is arose. Ja, ist sie, nur nicht alles daran ist Rose immer, gleichzeitig und auf einmal.

Das diagrammatische Wissen (eine Mischung aus der Effektivität, die man lateinisch vis nennt, und den Effekten, die man visuell nennt) ist Teil der Rechtsgeschichte, weil Recht ohnehin auch Regen ist. Es ist Teil der Bildgeschichte, weil Bilder ohnehin auch Bewegungen sind.

[moondeew]

my uh- DRLAMP relationship headcanons-

it’s complicated

Don’t ask how mociet are divorced and married at the same time they just are

[thistleandthorn-rpg]

Congrats Tyler on your new character, Tristan Clarington! Please send us his blog within 48 hours!

OOC INFORMATION:

  Name/Alias: Tyler

Preferred pronoun: he/him

Age (Must be 20+): 28

Timezone/Country: EST

RP Experience: y’all know hehe

Activity Level: 8/10

Have You Been in this RP Before (and who did you play): Yuuup

  IC INFORMATION:

  Name: Tristan Clarington

Designation: Switch

Age: 28

Birthdate: June 4, 1996

Faceclaim: Nolan Gerard Funk

Orientation: Pansexual

Kinks: Bondage, Impact, Muscle/Body Worship, Orgasm Denial, Public play, humiliation, roleplay, open to anything not on the anti-kinks.

Anti-Kinks: Cutting, Needles, Basically just run it by me if it’s not on the kink list, just in case. :)

  Key Points: (please copy/paste the bullet points from the bio. **For OC characters, please add at least 4 bullet points of characteristics**)

Distinguished

Confident

Soft-Spoken

Determined

BIO:

Clarington. It was a name that wielded power without trying. The patriarch of the family had made sure of that. On the whole, Tristan despised his father. He was an antiquated, power-hungry asshole without the bandwidth to evolve with the times. Tristan had always been mature for his age, and while he went along with the path their father set for the family’s sons well enough, he lost his patience when Gunner was essentially exiled after coming out. He kept his mouth shut as long as needed, smiling and nodding the time away until he went off to the army with his brothers. After accepting a scholarship with the ROTC program, he opted for a later deployment. He took his full ride, bolstered with his father’s checkbook to cover additional costs, and went off to the prestigious Ivy League school, Columbia University in New York City, and pursued business. With the tuition money laid out and living expenses covered, Tristan cut himself off from his father. He was determined to launch his own empire. Sure, his father’s money and connections got him on the right path, but in a way, it felt poetic to take his privilege and weaponize it against the Colonel. Furthering his dedication to his cause was his chance reunion with his twin brother, Gunner. Finding each other in New York City, Tristan was patient but relentless in his attempt to convince Gunner that he’d never given up on him and that he’d always been on his side. After a long but perfectly understandable length of time, they rekindled their brotherhood. Tristan promised Gunner he’d join him at the same academy after he got far enough in his education at Columbia.

Obtaining top marks in school and making his own connections along the way, Tristan opted to spend more time earning his degree to secure his place in the world before setting off to enroll at Stonewall. He worked at a big-time firm in the city for a CEO on the verge of retirement. With only about 5-10 years of employment left, the CEO agreed to sign the company over to Tristan once he was ready, meaning graduated, claimed, and finished with his service in the army. He knew showing up at Stonewall when he did meant less time, age-wise, to find a claim, but quite frankly, he wasn’t bothered by the time crunch. Plagued by good looks and limitless charm, Tristan was perhaps overly confident in his ability to find a claim quickly, especially upon arriving and receiving the Switch mark - which wasn’t ideal, but still allowed him to easily become what he’d always considered himself best suited to become: a Dominant.

Stonewall Academy was the beginning of the rest of his life. He’d find his claim, graduate, and then color the name ‘Clarington’ in a different, decidedly more vibrant shade. He detested the legacy his father was so proud of and was eager to besmirch it in every way imaginable.

BIO QUESTIONS:

What are your feelings about the mark you have received?  - I’m at peace with it. You don’t come from a family like mine not thinking you’re suited for the Dominant mark, so getting the Switch one was initially a let down, but logically, it’s all the same. I can still claim a submissive like I otherwise would. I’ll just have to suffer through some mandatory submissive courses that will ultimately prove useless to me. It’s not the end of the world - just an inconvenience.

How do your feelings on the system compare to your parents’ feelings on it? - Like my parents, I appreciate the societal order it maintains. Unlike my parents, I recognize it’s faults - like marking Archer submissive, for instance. There are glaring issues in the marking process that require serious attention, but beyond the assignment of the marks, I respect and appreciate the system.

Where do you see yourself after you graduate?   - In a word; successful - married, claimed, a tycoon in the business world with multiple homes and a legacy all my own. I want to sneer down at my father from my own, superior place in the world - and I will. I must.

How do you feel about authority? - I respect it when it’s earned - and yes, I’ll be the judge of who deserves said respect. When I’m in a position of authority - which is often - I demand respect and will

[generalmacnamara]

uhuh totalllyyyy..logicall..

I doubt you have room to judge.

[ocellatum-h]

jesus christ i need to become religious or something i went to the bathroom without my ohone and i thought about death because i was sick today and yesterday and had like. gut dropping year about the fact that i in fact WILL stop being alive one day andjust wont exist and i wont be anle to feel or hear or see or do anything and nobody rationallt knows what happens when we die abd i reeally really kind of just want to have. something to cling to when i feel like this even if it isnt very. logicall that theres like a place in the sky that you go where your body dies

[moondeew]

teacher au probably where Logan is a teacher and Patton is his assistant teacher

inspired by a comment on this skit

Logan can see his effort lol