#philosophy around zoos and what they do

[why-animals-do-the-thing]

hi there! love your work! i recently had a prof say that all zoos (USA) are bad (so we shouldn't support them) and sanctuaries are better because using animals for entertainment is morally wrong, most zoo profits dont go to conservation, and conservation efforts are bandaid solutions to capitalism destroying animal habitats, so the real solution is to return the land to indigenous stewards to manage/rewild. i didn't disagree with the last bit, but the argument as a whole felt a little off to me for a reason i couldnt put my finger on. am i off base here? just feeling really unsure about the whole thing.

You're not wrong! There's a mix of reality and personal opinions in those statements, and it's definitely something worth critically examining. A quick fact-check of what they said for you:

All US zoos are bad

There's a massive range of quality of zoological facilities within the US (and around the world). Some are stellar and some are not, and it's really just not accurate to lump them all under the same umbrella for almost any purpose. Unless, of course, your issue isn't with animal welfare, and it's philosophical, which is what it sound like in #2...

2. Using animals for entertainment is morally wrong.

This is one of my favorite things to talk about w/r/t how we exhibit animals. Entertainment has become equated with exploitation and implicit low welfare in the last couple decades, and so you get a lot of people saying using animals for entertainment is wrong. But those same folk will say that they enjoy seeing animals in other contexts, and they think that's okay. Where's the line between enjoying something and being entertained by it? What makes something one and not the other? Also, we know that people learn better from from situations which are enjoyable/entertaining - even just a fun teacher who jokes around vs a dry lecture - so how can that only be a problem when it's used to make viewing animals more impactful? I wrote a whole piece on this a while back (linked here) if you want to dig into this more. Some zoos (and accrediting groups) are shying away from "entertainment" type branding - shows are demos now, for instance - and others are leaning into "edutainment" that's done with good welfare and communicates actual education messaging. In short, this is a personal philosophical belief, and you're right to question if you agree. (Even if you decide you do think that too! It's always good to question why someone is arguing what they believe about animal use, and how they came to believe it).

3. Sanctuaries are better than zoos.

There's two reasons I think he's misinformed here. First, almost all exotic animal sanctuaries in the US are licensed exhibitors - just like zoos! I only know of a couple that don't exhibit to the public at all. It's an important part of their revenue stream, because gate take helps support paying for animal care. Also anything you see from a sanctuary on Youtube, Facebook, or TikTok? Also exhibition! They just message about it differently, and often have a different ethos about how they exhibit (e.g. tours to reduce stress instead of letting people wander, doing conservation or rescue messaging instead of just display). Second... look, most people assume that the word "sanctuary" means a facility is intrinsically more ethical than a zoo, and therefore they must be a good place. In reality, many sanctuaries get much less public and regulatory scrutiny (at the state level) than most zoos. There are good sanctuaries out there, but there are also sanctuaries where stuff goes on that would absolutely be unacceptable at zoos, and it slides because of the assumption that sanctuaries are inherently more moral and ethical and care for their animals better.

4. Most zoo profits don't go to conservation

This is correct! Direct conservation funding is often a small part of the money a zoo makes. However, that's because money goes to things like facility maintenance, new construction, paying salaries, etc. If zoos put all the money they made back into conservation programs, practically, they wouldn't have the funding to continue to operate. The question that I'd suggest asking instead is "where are they putting money into conservation" and "are they doing conservation work or just throwing money at something to display the logo of the program." Also, it's worth keeping in mind that a lot of what zoos do to support conservation isn't necessarily financial. Many facilities contribute "in-kind", by doing things like sending staff to assist with programs or teach specific skills, or by donating things like vehicles and equipment. Research zoos do also seriously contributes to in-situ programs, and breeding programs for re-introduction like the scimitar-horned oryx and the black-footed ferret are also conservation. Could many of the big urban facilities with huge budgets do more? Yes. But looking just at dollars spent on conservation programs is disingenuous and inaccurate.

5. Conservation efforts are band-aid solutions to capitalism destroying habitats / Returning the land to indigenous peoples to manage/rewild is the real solution to conservation issues

This is a little outside my scope so I'm going to only address the part that I know. First off, like, there's no One True Answer to conservation issues. That's reductionist and inaccurate. Conservation really is a human issue, though, and it often has to involve solving human problems that lead to negative results for animals. There's definitely an issue with what some people call "parachute conservation" where Westerners swoop in and try to tell people living in range countries how to best manage their animals and natural resources without recognizing their perspectives, needs, or what drives their behavior towards those animals. That's not just a zoo issue - that's an issue with a ton of traditional Western conservation work. And there is progress towards fixing it! In the zoo world, I've been very impressed with the work out of The Living Desert, where their conservation people spend a lot of time overseas teaching people in range countries to evaluate and improve their own conservation programs, so they can assess efficacy and also have data to apply for grants, etc. They provide support when asked, rather than trying to tell people who live with these animals regularly what to do. One of my favorite programs that TLD collaborates with (they don't try to run it!) is a group called the Black Mambas that reduces poaching by supporting entire communities to reduce the desperation for food/income, educating kids about animals, and running all-female patrols staffed by community members.

Overall, it sounds like your professor's view of zoos is really informed by their personal moral perspective, and possibly reinforced by a lot of the misinformation / misleading messaging that exists about the industry and about conservation work. They do have some specifics right, but not necessarily the context to inform why things are like that. It was a good catch to question the mix of information and approach it critically.

[sorcerous-caress]

thinking of the “two humans who don’t vibe in the same party” + the “you can’t just have one, you need three or four humans” quote from one of your first human kink posts. trying to not only “tame” your party’s humans for yourself but also trying to socialize them so they can stand each other lmao

Humans are unpredictable. That's the thing. No matter how many guides and books you read to try and understand them, the only lesson you'll end up with is "do not try and put humans in a mould, they never fit."

I had past friends that I shared nothing in common with, some I met by pure chance and stupid coincidences. While the "friends" that were right for me that went to the same school and shared my ideas, never worked out for younger me.

You don't get to choose what you like, otherwise you'll just choose liking everything. Sometimes you just hate a person for no reason and nothing can change that, their whole being annoys you no matter how much you try and understand them. I feel unspeakable rage when I eat mint chocolate whilst others worship it like the sun.

The other races certainly could try to get the humans to get along, it will just annoy both humans. Because when two people hate each other mutually they avoid the other, forcing them to stay in the same place will funnel their wrath at you instead.

Maybe even the two humans will work together to get rid of you since you've became a bigger annoyance. You'd think this would get them to learn how to get along in some reverse psychology bullshit but it doesn't, they still despise the other, they just want you to stop pushing them.

The easiest way to ruin a human harem is to force them to do something they don't want to. Take their free will away away and add expectations and the humans start biting. No other race values their individuality as much as we do.

Like a drow matron who got too cocky and ordered her human consorts to get along. Sure she is worried a bit about their lack of socialising but that's a general statement, some humans prefer being alone or the company of other races. Push too much and you'll end up with a broken arm because nothing is budging them, they're verstile and adaptable to their own terms not yours.

I'd imagine if she kept trying to force them to become friends, they end up leaking her military and defence information to another house just to her off of their back.

Don't get too greedy, don't underestimate humanity and treat it as a docile petting zoo for you to mix and match your future pets from.

Some humans like sharing with others, some humans like being around other humans more. Some refuse anything but absolute devotion to them, others get annoyed by other humans and human cities.

Humans have certain social structures, an invisible layer of social rules and politeness that we get so accustomed to we can't even see anymore. No matter how casual you are with others, if you have a criteria to what would be weird behaviour around you then you follow certain social rules.

Humanity is an endless masquerade. The philosophy of each person wearing three masks. Each mask is part of you, yet not fully you. Each mask is a lie but a truth on its own. Not even you can view the real you.

It's simply too vulnerable and raw. We have to layer and viel our hearts and souls even from our own wandering eyes. We are always the first to dig our nails in our tender balms if we mess up after all.

Other races don't comprehend it and aren't required to play along. If another human touched my hair without permission I'd yell at them and become angered, if a dragonborn or a hafling does it then I'll be less weirded out and more curious.

Because of that lack of social rules, you're not expected to preform either. You can put down the mask, you can be weird without feeling cringe or shame, and that's why certian humans like not mixing with other humans.

It's freeing, not dancing along to the melody of social rules, you get too comfortable. Another human around you breaks that illusion and makes you unconsciously put the chains of expectations back on.

We can't help it, it's nurture and nature to us. We raised our kids that way and we are born with pattern recognition and advanced social comprehension. Our whole frontal lobe is dedicated to purly that.

Humans are insanely complicated, a whole ocean of emotions, deserts of thoughts where every single grain of sand is a single thought we had for a second, a realisation, a memory, a promise, everything that shaped who we are.

But on the surface, we are plain, simple, easy to swallow, and take the shape of anything around us much like water. It gives the false impression that we can be "tamed" or "socialised" akin to the dogs we kept as pets.

Funny how we are the ones who took the wolves and made dogs out of them, and yet they expect to do the same to us without us realising it? We immediately pick up on any hints of manipulation, your gut feeling isn't there for show and other races probably lack it.

[salternateunreality2]

I’ve got to ask, because the video you linked in chapter 80 makes me think I’m right…

Are the firsts parenting styles based on Gwenna’s (pleasant peasant media) parenting videos? Cause I’m living for the comparison.

Great chapter btw. I really want to cuddle Kadaj!

Answering your question:

She definitely influences them. I like to think there's an FF7 Gwenna out there making content that Angeal watches religiously. He's right there, cocoa and dressing gown ready, for Every Video.

They all have their own styles and did their own research, but her basic concepts around respect for the kids and gentle parenting are things all the Dads keep in mind. They also bend towards those principles naturally for various reasons.

I didn't set out to make her influence the story, but since I watch her stuff, it's going to bleed over. (My other sources are watching parenting irl, reddit, other fics, that weird phase I had where I got super into adoption for a few years and read a million blogs and things, and my own experiences with kids.)

Excited rambling because I can't help myself:

Angeal is a big fan of Gwenna and gentle parenting. He's also a natural by nature and his experience with Zack. He's not the "fun" parent--he's probably the most strict about everyday and risky things alike. Bedtime is always at bedtime. No playing "yeet the baby as high as you can", even if the giggles are EPIC. Healthy food. Educational field trips.

Sometimes it can be hard for him to let himself or Cloud off the hook for crazy kid stuff, but especially himself, and he needs those reminders from her about taking a deep breath and remembering that it does work. Patience yields focus.

You don't have to and can't be perfect, but you can be the perfect Dad for your kid by loving him and trying your best. And sometimes your best is collapsing on the foldout couch holding onto the baby all night despite what the books say about sleep schedules because your baby needs you.

-

Genesis respects Cloud and treats him like a small adult because that's how Genesis expects to be treated (minus the small part. Genesis is tall. He is! He just has mammoth friends. Shut up). Genesis also doesn't want to helicopter/tiger mom his baby; he got enough of that growing up and he's over it.

He wants the world to take him seriously, so he offers that same courtesy to Cloud. He offers it to everyone unless they prove themselves to be unworthy, in which case Bitchesis comes out.

He's more likely to risk Cloud's physical and emotional health than Angeal, but less likely to risk Cloud's physical health than Sephiroth. He has no qualms about teaching Cloud the hard way about the ways of the world; if Cloud gets smart with him, he says "bet".

"I cursed at Heidegger because he's a bitch." is a perfectly rational response to Cloud asking why Papa cussed, in Genesis' mind.

-

Sephiroth strives to do The Opposite of what Hojo did to him, so he treats Cloud as a tiny but respected new recruit SOLDIER under his command. He strives for excellence from both himself and Cloud, but the instant he starts feeling too much like Hojo, he re-evaluates. He tends to be more risky with Cloud's physical safety, because when the bar is set to "don't make a 2yo fight a monster", letting a 4yo handle a weapon doesn't seem like a big deal.

He also feels inadequate and a little out of his depth emotionally with Cloud; to combat this, he regularly seeks advice from Tifa, Angeal, and Zack to understand Cloud and provide appropriate responses.

-

Zack is definitely one of the funnest dads. His philosophy is to meet Cloud where he's at. Both he and Genesis are great at engaging Cloud's imagination and playing with him, but Zack gets way more into it.

Zack gives Cloud freedom and respect because he's a kid and he deserves to have fun. As long as no one's getting seriously hurt, why the heck not?!

---

They all drive each other a little batty sometimes with their choices (see: the petting zoo incident + any and all motorcycle outings), but ultimately their main goals are: physical needs fully met, emotional needs fully met, then education and other things. They love their baby 🐥 and he loves them! ❤️🐱🐶🐻🦜🐥❤️

[nicklloydnow]

“Each day in Jocktober, which takes place in October, Opie & Anthony producer Sam Roberts picks a different radio show from around the country and then the show spends an hour diagnosing exactly what makes that oh-so-zany “morning zoo”-style show so shitty. Jocktober is like if Warner Herzog or the Coen Brothers spent a month each year just attacking movies like Paul Blart and Mortdecai – but also explaining the conventions of why they are so bad. Wouldn’t that make the film industry better? Wouldn’t it at least be entertaining? At least one of those things, yes.

Exaggerating the characteristics of drive-time radio, interrogating the conventions of the radio industry, is a way to ask: Why do people act this way? If this sounds familiar to improv people, it should: the goals are exactly the same, they just go about it in different ways. The work of improv is to excavate some truth of a situation and then heighten it to show why it’s funny, like some kind of fiendish archeological dig. Opie and Anthony, on the other hand, prefer to throw the entire situation into a giant rock tumbler to shake the dirt off of it and leave the fossils of truth at the end. Sure, some delicate things might get broken, but if they were that delicate, then how valuable were they in the first place?

The public at large pigeonholes Opie & Anthony as those terrible zany “morning zoo”-style DJs. But there’s a difference. Gregg “Opie” Hughes gives a shit when it’s done badly. Around the tenth day of every Jocktober, Opie and, to a lesser extent, the rest of the crew, kind of reach a point where it’s not longer even fun to mock these shows. Like Radiohead turning its back on Creep, it hurts them too much. Radio hosts, by and large, the targets of Jocktober, do nothing but play Creep. (…)

Prepburger and other services like it license content, like The Fugitive and War of the Roses, and the other, smaller, refillable formats that allow shows to comment on topical events, to any radio show who can pay. That’s why every morning show in every market is indistinguishable white noise. They’re literally saying the exact same thing. It’s like that part of Going Clear that talks about L. Ron Hubbard as a sci-fi writer where he’s like “never write any character who has not appeared in that magazine before. Realism or originality is the enemy,” or something like that, I wasn’t listening that hard.

One element that continues to be at the heart of a lot of programming philosophies is localness. With the advent of huge national radio shows like Howard Stern and Opie and Anthony, smaller market shows were forced to use what they had to stay relevant. They literally did stuff like hang up signs in studios that reminded jocks to “Stay Local” and talk about the stuff in the town, or inject specifics about the nearby highway, or talk about local news stories. Which is fine, but can come at the cost of prioritizing actually stimulating conversation. Focusing on trying to work the name of the local mall into your story is completely missing the point that people don’t give a shit what specific you use, the important thing is you’re talking about things that are honest and immediate and you’re good at talking.

(…)

Nothing encapsulates what Jocktober is about better than the name itself. “Jocktober” refers to the seemingly universal cliché where every radio show calls the month of October “Rocktober” and makes all these loud promos about it and hypes it up and makes this huge deal about how they play [radio station bro voice – you know the one] the most rock out of any station and October is going to rock so hard. But then they just PLAY EXACTLY THE SAME FUCKING SONGS THEY NORMALLY DO. The sound and fury, etc. To quote Anthony Cumia circa 2009: “There’s all this energy… but it’s all wasted energy. It’s like sitting in your driveway in neutral and just gassing it.”

(…)

Not to put too fine a point on it, but the first ever Jocktober episode was actually and explicitly inspired by a jock on some other show chastising O&A for, “not [having] anything to talk about, so they just talk about their real lives.”

And so, like NutraSweet, Jocktober was invented by accident. Even die-hard Pests might forget that when The Show went after 97.1 ZHT’s Morning Zoo on October 1, 2008, it was based on bad intelligence from a listener, that Frankie and Danger Boy were “talking shit” about the show.

The damage was done. Opie & Anthony had “napalmed the wrong village” as Anthony replacement Jim Norton put it.

But in the process, they realized that there were a lot of little villages out there that deserved napalming. Enough, in fact, to sustain the heady fall tradition of Jocktober for the next six or seven years… depending on how you count.

Anthony and Jim Norton supplied the bulk of the comedic voice, historically, and Opie was the point guard who kept things on track, but Jocktober really gave Opie’s voice a time to shine. He’s a student of radio and prides himself on knowing its history and the theory behind why it works, so he particularly hates seeing it done badly. And he’s usually thought of as almost the heart of the show, where Anthony or Jim make the really dirty, cutting jokes about child molesting or how fat/skinny/old/young/famous/washed up/etc. someone is. But there are moments every once in a while where Opie is suddenly just enormously cruel and you realize… this show has no heart. When the moral compass of the show blows up, Jocktober is like a some kind of Bermuda Triangle nightmare.

(…)

The early years of Jocktober, starting in 2008, was a very particular era for shock jocks. Satellite radio allowed them to be out from under the thumb of the FCC, but it was still before the Internet progressed to the point where personalities are really accountable for what they say. All these shows were just lost to the ether, but now everyone knows that everything’s permanent and the internet is forever. For that reason, I’d argue that there’s two distinct periods of Jocktober: 2008-2011 and 2011-present.

It was during the first period, 2008-2011, when they really learned how to effectively use social media as a tool for mischief. In the Jocktober of 2008, there were some mentions of sending “pictures of roosters” to email addresses and administrators of the official sites of different stations, as well as the long-standing tradition of listeners bombarding any station mentioned on-air with horrific phone calls.

But soon enough, Opie and Anthony walking into the studio was basically like the pilots in Pacific Rim climbing into those huge robots. They could get on mic and command their huge social media following to destroy whatever target they pleased. So each day in Jocktober would go like this: they’d announce the name of that day’s show, and then the clock started until “phase 1 is complete,” which means the show was forced to disable posts on their Facebook wall. Then began phase two, where listeners would leave the most vile, disgusting jokes and pictures on the comments of the Facebook wall. That went on until Phase 2 was complete—as in, the entire Facebook page had to be deleted.

This seems like it took place back in some era when cyberbullying was a more innocent thing. Maybe “innocent” is the wrong word for spamming a Facebook page with hundreds of pictures of a man eating shit or a terrifying bus accident, but there was certainly a time when you could say “hey, just unplug the computer if it’s too much!!” and really believe it. But as we entered the more recent era, though, social media began to fragment even more and bleed into people’s “real” lives, until finally, coincidentally very near Jocktober 2014, the whole GamerGate thing happened and everyone kind of realized, hey, maybe even radio station cyberbullying isn’t just good clean fun.

(…)

On the last day of Jocktober, Opie & Anthony turned the focus on themselves, because after all, they’d be just as hacky as Terry Clifford if they didn’t call out their own shortcomings. This usually consisted of listening to some old shows from their Boston days or early in New York and pointing out flaws. Personally, I have to say that one definite flaw in the Opie & Anthony Show was that one of them liked to go on racist tirades that ended up on the front page of the newspapers.

But this isn’t about Anthony, it’s about Jocktober. And if you’re saying that he shouldn’t be on the radio anymore, then here is some good news for you: he’s not. Jocktober remains a fascinating cultural artifact. I was listening to one of these shows with a friend once and her reaction was, “How can you listen to these? It’s… so funny.” I think she meant just how decadent the kind of humor is in O&A in general, and then Jocktober in particular. They’re responding to this shitty, watered down entertainment, so they purposely make their show the most sugary, rich product possible. It was like they were getting mad that someone’s Kool-Aid is weak and doesn’t have enough sugar, so you dump 10x too much sugar in it. Jocktober was the most high-proof, premium-grade version of O&A’s cartoon-cruel comedic voice possible. (…)

Shortly after Anthony got fired in July of 2014, comedian and frequent guest Joe DeRosa compared the freedom of speech to the right to eat as much candy as you wanted. Sure, the thinking goes, knock yourself out, but if you eat too much, eventually you’re going to get sick. Looking through this lens, SiriusXM’s decision to fire Anthony was like Bloomberg’s decision to ban large sodas. Sure, you can drink this sweet, decadent soda, but it’s in the interest of everyone concerned that you don’t literally drink all of it.

Probably good thinking. But if you are so inclined, every episode of Jocktober is right here.”

[seasideretreat]

French

I play video games to learn French. It's actually really tough. My favorite one is Planet Zoo. You know, many people want to be zookeepers I've heard. I can imagine why, it's really fun to work with animals I think, especially exotic animals. You know, last night I was thinking of the numinous. Numinosity is a concept introduced in the Western world of thought in the early 20th century. I believe it is a crucial concept: it points us to the spiritual difference of religion, that pushes us to do stuff like meditation, cryptic philosophy, prayer and reading the Bible. We want to connect with the numinous, and this can actually be a really practical question; religions offer us many ways to do this, like adhering to a particular lifestyle or reading the Bible. You know, I got up early today again, not necessarily to write, but this is my new philosophy: if I get up before eleven I will write my blog in the mornings. It's quite nice because then I can have the rest of the day off. You know, I really get to write nice things all the time, because I have a better process these days, but I still don't really know what to do when writing; you know, I want to do research, you know, to write nice things but I just can't think of anything to research; well, I guess I could study English history, I am interested in that, but it doesn't do me that much and I know a lot about it already. Right now I am listening to a Let's Play by GhazPlays, he is a really good Youtuber, but he doesn't have that many viewers, still, he is really productive; I was listening to an album called Haunted Mountain by a guy called Buck Meek just now, and I kind of liked it, but I find Let's Playing more relaxing; not very much so necessarily, you know, writing is work, mostly, and you can't really relax whilst you're typing you know, but I am thinking later I could just sit in my chair and make a few Sudoku puzzles, that'll probably be relaxing, you know, it's not that hard to get through the day I suppose, when you just stay happy; and that's what religion is for, to allow us to stay happy, although it's hard; I don't know how religion really works, you know, and I don't know what the purpose of religion really is, but it's something with being a guide for life and the numinous, et cetera. You know, I really kind of regret not sleeping out, but that's the thing, I don't really want to stay in bed necessarily, you know, I just got nothing to do, and I usually get up at eleven, you know, I just brave the day anyway, but yeah, recently I started writing in the mornings, you know, and it's kind of harder because you don't get to prepare I'd say, but yeah, whatever.

You know, the point of a day is to have a good time. Sleeping is really pleasant, but writing can be pleasant too, you know; and if you know how to get through the day it ain't so bad; life is very weird, you know, and we do weird things all the time; this is the thing, I start writing at eight or around eight, and then just have a slow day until eleven o'clock; and what happens at eleven o'clock? Nothing, I just find something else to do. I suppose having an eventful morning is all right. I always really liked it when I got down the stairs in my parents' house in the morning when I was young and my mother would be sitting there, listening to the radio. My dad would always get up much later, just like my sister. My mother and I were the early birds. You know, I also really like talking I suppose, but these days I don't really talk so much, I can't think of anything to say. My dad said I was laconic, which is an admirable quality, although maybe he was just teasing me because I say so little. Tomorrow I have to work for the mail again, I feel okay regarding it, I think it will be okay; you know, its actually kind of nice; you know, I don't think I'd mind working in an office, but I can't think of any nice job in an office that I could take, probably since I don't have a very competitive degree. I studied Asian Studies. You know, I still don't know what I really learned there. I used to study history and I got my Bachelor of Arts in that, and I kind of learned how to write there, and kind of how great Dutch history is and all that, you know, random things; but with Asian Studies, I really have no idea what I learned; I didn't learn how to write, you know, I barely felt any of that teacher was saying in the tutorials, and the lectures were all so chaotic and specific; I really don't know what I learned, I suppose I will find out eventually, but it's all not so funny, you know, it's just bad. I did a course on Mongolian history, you know the history of the Mongolian empire, and that was a nice course, but also quite chaotic maybe, and not very companionate. You know, history was just really my thing, I guess, and I shouldn't have switched to Asian Studies; but yeah, I did a specialization that focussed partially on history, so I guess I can just profile myself as a historian; in which case, studying Asian Studies I just learned the glories of Japanese, Chinese and Middle-Eastern history. You know, I sometimes wish I'd have taken the opportunity, after my Bachelors, to study theology. I feel like theology is a much more academic and professional field than history. You know, it's really weird that history is such a big field in academia, considering theology is what university was all about in the beginning; and someone actually called theology history from the inside; you know, history is just a big pile of facts without the religious aspect; you know, we are kind of doubting the Whig version of history nowadays; you know, I did kind of learn something specific at Asian Studies, basically to ask big questions; you know, that's someting we don't do at history, I think; in history, you ask ridiculously small questions and then do a ridiculous amount of (virtual) work to answer it. But yeah, was studying Asian Studies of any practical value? I have asked myself this question a thousand times and I cannot figure it out. I didn't learn to speak Chinese, which would've been a great boon for my curriculum vitae, and I didn't learn how to hold a Confucian sermon or a Buddhist seminar or something like that, which might've given me a direction in life; but I did learn something about how we try to understand a foreign place, and I learned to think hard on historiographical questions. Of course, that ain't a practical value, but yeah, this is the age old question: what do we learn from history? I'd say we learn the most general truths from history, because it is the most general science, but people don't consider it a science, they consider it an art.

What do we learn from philosophy? They say history is just philosophy teaching by example. Philosophy may teach us that reality is an illusion. Or that we ought to be ourselves. History can teach us those things too, only it does so only after empirical investigation. Really, history is just telling stories, but the purpose of university is to figure things out based on this history. We often imagine history as reaching back into the past to discover more about a question. But I have heard it said that the news is also a form of history. Cicero said that history is the mistress of life. We are simply stuck in history and we have to do as she says. In this sense, history is just context. Studying history has no point, but it can serve a function when we try to learn something, since it gives us insight in the meaning of the science. In this sense, from studying Asian Studies I learned nothing, but I did get a better vision on things I already knew, such as war, or religion, or philosophy. But yeah, what is science? History is a part of science, not a science in itself, so studying history teaches you to think critically, but about very general topics. We might say that studying history is pointless, but it does make a difference. Without history, we'd not know the context of the science, and then we wouldn't see the point of anything. You know, it's clever to study history, because it helps you improve your science. I don't know.

[minileena-sfw]

Zookeeper - part 4

prev - next

On that first tour of the little section of the zoo that I was responsible for, I had been excited about my job until Jasper told me that the parvinnet was going to take all my enthusiasm away.

I chuckled to myself at that. Funny how the complete opposite became true.

All my other responsibilities were just chores now. I spent all day thinking about her. Layna. It was… a weird topic to think about. She was just an animal, obviously. We had a gorilla exhibit elsewhere in the zoo, and while none of them knew sign language, I knew that there were gorillas who had been taught to communicate like that. It spoke to a degree of intelligence, but not to the extent that it felt weird to have gorillas in cages at a zoo.

Well. At least no more than it felt weird to cage ANY animal and show them off to strangers at ten bucks for entry. Zoos are kinda fucked up when you think about them too much.

Still, thinking about Layna felt… different. I couldn’t quite put my finger on why. Maybe it was just my brain playing tricks on me because her anatomy was so humanoid. Aside from her eyes and larger, mostly featureless ears, she looked pretty much like a normal human woman. To the extent that I started feeling uncomfortable with the fact that she, uh… didn’t have any clothes.

But, like… she’s not a person. I heard of an octopus in an aquarium that memorized the guard’s schedules and used off-time to sneak into a neighbouring tank to eat extra fish. That was cool and showed off the octopus’s intelligence, but… it’s not a person.

Layna had sounded so depressed and defeated yesterday…

Instead of thinking about the philosophy of personhood and sapience, I tried to reconcile my conflicting emotions by buying a bunch of cool shit for Layna’s tank. I remembered her complaining about not having anything intellectually stimulating, idly tearing at cotton just for something to do. My mind immediately went to toys—anything with moving parts to provide some enrichment for her. But the thought felt… wrong. She wasn’t a bored cat who needed a ball of yarn to bat around.

I came up with a different solution.

“Hey, Layna!” I called as I walked into her room at the end of my rounds.

I was greeted with a grunt. Layna wasn’t in her bed—she was on the opposite side of the tank, fidgeting and fiddling with one of the plastic plants.

“Messing around with the fake foliage?” I prompted as I grabbed her water bowl and cleaned it out.

“What the fuck else am I supposed to do in here?” She huffed.

I smirked. “Funny you should ask that… I brought you a little somethin’-somethin’.”

Layna’s brows furrowed and her attention shifted over to me. And to what I held in my hands.

After thinking about it for a while, I had eventually decided to buy her a little sketchbook. It was about as tall as she was—there wasn’t anything smaller I could find at Michael’s—and while nobody sold drawing utensils that she could use at her size, I tried to find a solution in a broken-off piece of mechanical pencil lead that could act as a drawing utensil of sorts.

Layna stared for a while, so I just set the sketchbook down next to her bed with a smile and returned to her water bowl.

“So… ignoring Jasper’s advice, then?” Layna prompted as she started making her way over to my side of the tank. “What’s that saying again? ‘Give a man an inch, he’ll take a mile?’ You’re, uh… offering me quite a few inches.”

I paused for a moment.

“I… know that,” I conceded. “But… it would feel wrong to not give you a few inches. I don’t quite get why, but… I dunno. It felt, like, correct to come here with this for you.” I set her clean water bowl back down in the cage and gave her a smile. “Anyways, I dunno if you’re an artist at all, but… I guess anything’s better than cotton and plastic foliage?”

Layna had finally made her way over to my side of the tank, looking at the sketchbook I had gotten her. She wore that expression again, the one I always have trouble placing… contemplative, maybe?

“You’re being nice to me because I’ve been cooperative,” Layna concluded. “These are, like, rewards?”

I pursed my lips at that. “I… am not quite sure why, but phrasing it like that feels weird.”

“Maybe because it’s basically pavlovian classical conditioning and that’s kinda fucked up,” Layna muttered as she lifted the sketchbook and brought it over to the glass tank, leaning it against the wall.

My eyes widened a bit. “How… do you know what that is?”

Layna huffed and moved to grab the pencil lead I had left for her. “I’m twenty-two years old. I’ve only been in this tank for three of those. I’m starting to suspect that you kinda just… never consider the fact that I existed outside of the context of these last three years. I had a life before this.”

Layna… is older than me.

I definitely internalized all her words and vowed to think on them more later, but for now that was what my mind was focused on. I was twenty-one. Why was it weird that she was older than me?

“Well, thanks for the reward incentive for my ‘good behaviour’ then, I guess,” Layna said as she started sketching at a level of proficiency that I had NOT been expecting. “You should finish your rounds. The sugar gliders are probably gonna get jealous that I’m taking all of your attention today.”

I nodded with furrowed brows and left to finish up the rest of my work in the room.

•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•

I realized that I had started to consider Evelyn my friend.

It was fair of me to do, I supposed. I was slowly going insane in this cage, after all. Perhaps I had been so deprived of any positive social interaction that the moment she offered me even a hint of kindness I latched onto it like a starving leech, desperate for something, anything to eat.

I would disabuse myself of this notion.

Evelyn was not my friend. She was my warden. These gifts and acts of kindness were intentional moves to try and make me more cooperative. I knew that for a fact. I could prove it.

I had to prove it. Because if she wasn’t my warden, then… she was an opportunity.

I needed to test this.

Once I misbehave, the rewards stop coming. That was the hypothesis.

And I had come up with the perfect experiment to prove it.

I tore out a sheet of paper from the sketchbook and started folding my path out of this cage.

Prev - next

[drwilfredwaterson]

Choose the Avatar for Your Human Evolution: An Evolved Human Being in a Civilized Human Society, or A Helpless, Powerless, and Caged Bottom-of-the-food-chain Non-Human Petting Zoo Farm Animal? Part 4/5.

20:46:43 GMT+3 Jerusalem, Israel, 10:46:43 PDT Local Time (approximately 19 minutes, 43 seconds (1183 seconds) after the 13/13th adversary posts at 17:27:00 UTC/20:27 GMT+3 Jerusalem, Israel.)

Luke 19:43 The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side.

Strong's Concordance #1183 Baalyah: "Yah/Jah/the God of Israel is Lord/Master," one of David's heroes Original Word: בְּעַלְיָה

Mark 10:46 Then they came to Jericho. As Jesus and his disciples, together with a large crowd, were leaving the city, a blind man, Bartimaeus (which means “son of Timaeus”), was sitting by the roadside begging. Mark 10:47 When he heard that it was Jesus of Nazareth, he began to shout, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!” Mark 10:48 Many rebuked him and told him to be quiet, but he shouted all the more, “Son of David, have mercy on me!” Mark 10:49 Jesus stopped and said, “Call him.” So they called to the blind man, “Cheer up! On your feet! He’s calling you.” Mark 10:50 Throwing his cloak aside, he jumped to his feet and came to Jesus. Mark 10:51 “What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked him. The blind man said, “Rabbi, I want to see.” Mark 10:52 “Go,” said Jesus, “your faith has healed you.” Immediately he received his sight and followed Jesus along the road.

Luke 20:46 “Beware of the teachers of the law. They like to walk around in flowing robes and love to be greeted with respect in the marketplaces and have the most important seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at banquets. Luke 20:47 They devour widows’ houses and for a show make lengthy prayers. These men will be punished most severely.”

This is all from Wikipedia as well to highlight that Jesus Christ wasn't being antisemitic or a traitor, he was being a freedom fighter for all native Israelis against actual Roman-loyalist traitors:

In Jerusalem, Herod introduced foreign forms of entertainment, and erected a golden eagle at the entrance of the Temple, which suggested a greater interest in the welfare of Rome than of Jews. Herod's taxes garnered a bad reputation: his constant concern for his reputation led him to make frequent, expensive gifts, increasingly emptying the kingdom's coffers, and such lavish spending upset his Jewish subjects.

The two major Jewish sects of the day, the Pharisees and the Sadducees, both showed opposition to Herod. The Pharisees were discontented because Herod disregarded many of their demands with respect to the Temple's construction.

The Sadducees, who were closely associated with priestly responsibilities in the Temple, opposed Herod because he replaced their high priests with outsiders from Babylonia and Alexandria, in an effort to gain support from the Jewish Diaspora.

Herod's outreach efforts gained him little, and at the end of his reign anger and dissatisfaction were common amongst Jews. Heavy outbreaks of violence and riots followed Herod's death in many cities, including Jerusalem, as pent-up resentments boiled over. The scope of the disturbances sparked hopes that the Jews of Judea might some day overthrow the Roman overlords, hopes reawakened decades later in the outbreak of the First Jewish-Roman War in 66 CE.

Earthquake: M 1.0 - 2.8 km (1.8 mi) WSW of Redlands, CA

2023-09-08 17:46:43 (UTC) 34.050°N 117.213°W 12.5 km depth

By Iowa Street near Loma Linda University Behavioral Medicine, Heritage Park, Hyacinth Avenue, and Barton Road.

Colossians 2:8 See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces of this world rather than on Christ.

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English) Page 1599: Proverbs 1:7 The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge; Fools despise wisdom and discipline. Proverbs 1:8 My son, heed the discipline of your father, And do not forsake the instruction of your mother;

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English) Page 872: Isaiah 12:5 Hymn the Lord, For He has done gloriously; Let this be made known In all the world!

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English) Page 1618: Proverbs 12:5 The purposes of the righteous are justice, The schemes of the wicked are deceit.

The only sabbath Jesus Christ and His apostles kept holy was the seventh-day sabbath detailed in the Hebrew TANAKH AND the Christian New Testament. There are no other valid Christian sabbaths. No one who claims a first-day sabbath is of the vine of Jesus Christ and His Father has any "apostlic authority"; they've never had any "apostlic authority," and they can never have any "apostlic authority," until they're being true to the authentic life and teachings of Jesus Christ.

Answer your calling at Loma Linda University, a Christ-centered Seventh-day Adventist university dedicated to mission-focused learning through the integration of health, science and faith. (llu.edu)

I have to revisit the Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey goat head situation for a more thorough analysis because it's something that was chosen to dehumanize impressionable people in so many ways that this analysis needs to be shared. The most important part of the goat head analysis is to ask why would anyone would suggest that a farm animal that's inferior in every way to a monkey, a pig and a three-year-old human child would represent the ultimate avatar of human perfection, evolution, intellect, refinement, sophistication, and worldliness. The next important question in the Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey goat head analysis is what did those two have in common? So I'll begin with those two questions:

The first objective of the Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey goat head avatar is to dehumanize the victim by having them choose to disassociate from the idea that they have a human head on their shoulders; that their human head has a human brain in it; that their human brain is not only equal, but probably superior, to Aleister Crowley's and/or Anton LaVey's brain; that their superior intellect, refinement, sophistication, and worldliness made them a target for manipulation, degradation, dehumanization, exploitation, extortion, and all manner of criminal victimization by Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey; that human laws apply to farm animal-headed victims like them (who've willingly chosen victimization) or to Aleister Crowley and/or Anton LaVey; that the dehumanized farm animal-headed victim should expect to think of themself as a human being who deserves to be treated as a human being with freewill, thoughts, feelings, emotions, dignity, and honor; that the dehumanized farm animal-headed victim should expect Aleister Crowley and/or Anton LaVey to ever behave in a human, civilized, or lawful manner toward their dehumanized victim; that human laws can save them from Aleister Crowley and/or Anton LaVey; that there are any authorities other than Aleister Crowley and/or Anton LaVey; that any human laws or any human beings could ever save them from the death penalty they've accepted for perpetrating the only crime in existence: denying or preventing Aleister Crowley and/or Anton LaVey from indulging in their True Will and their Great Work; because that'd be unforgivably rude, disrespectful, and so intolerably uncivilized that their victim should expect, accept, want, need, and ask for the death penalty for even considering perpetrating such a heinous crime against Aleister Crowley and/or Anton LaVey. The facts about Aleister Crowley's and Anton LaVey's lives fully support all of those statements.

What did Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey have in common? First off, and most importantly, they were both sexual predators and that was their primary motive for manipulating people into disassociating from the idea that they're a human being in a civilized society who should expect be treated as such. Secondly, they were obviously both domestic abusers. Third, they were both psychopathic sociopaths who were completely disconnected from reality and saw the laws and societal norms of civilized society as impeding their obviously predatory and criminal repressed urges, needs, and fantasies about preying upon and victimizing others as their only "medicine" for psycholgical release, relief, and validation. Fourth, they were both so pathetic, weak minded, and cowardly that they wouldn't and couldn't accept that anyone wouldn't instantly consider themselves to be vastly and undeniably inferior to them in every way and desperately want and need the external validation that only a "completely pure and truly superior being" like them could offer. Fifth, they both needed a way to convince people that they deserved to be victimized, that there'd be nothing illegal about it, that no one could save them from it, and that their victims should expect, accept, want, need, and ask for the death penalty for even considering such a heinous crime against Aleister Crowley and/or Anton LaVey as denying them their indulgences and validation.

Those two points alone sum up the entirety of Aleister Crowley's and Anton LaVey's pathetic clown domestic abuser lives. There's abundant evidence supporting all of that analysis. It's important to remember that the modern usage and implementation of the Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey goat head avatar all started with a severe drug addiction problem that eventually killed Aleister Crowley. Anyone who knows how and why that level of drug addiction causes the addict to desperately victimize others completely understands why there are modern feminists completely degrading and dehumanizing themselves by exclaiming and proclaiming to the entire world that they're inferior to a monkey, a pig, and a goat in every way.

Are goats the smartest animal? While goats have proven that they are by no means duds in the smarts department, they probably won't be outwitting dolphins, elephants, chimps or other exceedingly brainy furry or feathered competitors anytime soon. (SmithsonianMag.com)

Are goats or pigs smarter? Now we come to the smartest of all farm animals, and that highest honor is reserved for the pig. (Grit.com)

Pigs are gentle creatures with surprising intelligence. Studies have found they're smarter than dogs and even 3-year-old children! In the wild, pigs form small groups that typically include a few sows and their piglets. (HumaneSociety.org)

Everyone who's ever witnessed Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey-level domestic violence and abuse against women and girls knows exactly how, why, and how often abusers call women and girls pigs. Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey took it even lower than most abusive misogynist trash by manipulating women and girls into calling themselves inferior to monkeys, pigs, and goats in every way while expecting, wanting, needing, and demanding to be treated as such via the Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey farm animal face expression.

Pig (slang): If you call someone a pig, you think that they are unpleasant in some way, especially that they are greedy or unkind. (Collins Dictionary)

Pig (slang): A dirty, gluttonous, or repulsive person. (Merriam-Webster)

Pig (slang): An unattractive, unappealing, immoral and shameless woman. (Merriam-Webster)

Not only are goats inferior to monkeys and pigs in every way, but goats can and will also consume pretty much anything edible to survive without thinking anything of it. That's how Aleister Crowley's and Anton LaVey's victims were forced to live. It's impossible for any modern woman or girl with any interest in female empowerment, rights, and equality to be empowered by the Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey farm animal face, because it was never intended to empower their victims in any way. The Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey farm animal face was only ever intended to victimize someone by further disassociating them from the usage of the pronoun "I" that human beings use to indicate that they exist as a human being and expect to be honored and treated as if they're a human being existing in a civilized human society.

Aleister Crowley's and Anton LaVey's victims expressed that they were considered, treated, abused, and vicitmized as if they were as worthless as an expendable and sacrificial farm animal; because Aleister Crowley's and Anton LaVey's "darkest fantasies" included manipulating their victims to want and need to be victimized in those ways. No healthy, self-respecting, intelligent, educated, civilized, and sophisticated human being would have anything other than regrets for allowing themselves to be victimized in such ways. But you live and you learn, and what doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

To fact check whether or not my analysis of the Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey goat head/farm animal face avatar is correct, some simple questions:

Do modern women receive equal benefits and pay to men?

Do modern women receive an accurate and appropriate level of credit for their work and success?

Are modern, successful women considered to be dirty, gluttonous, repulsive, unpleasant, greedy, unkind, unattractive, immoral, and shameless for purusing female empowerment, rights, equality and success?

Have any men who have a problem with successful women ever attempted to manipulate any successful woman/women into proclaiming themselves inferior in every way to a monkey, a pig and a goat by embracing and promoting the Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey farm animal face; and then having their female victims degrading, dehumanizing, and dewomanizing themselves via that farm animal face in public, as often as possible, to and for patriarchal amusement, empowerment, and perpetuity?

Are there any male-dominated political efforts to legalize all forms of rape and force women and girls of any and all ages (including girls being bottle-fed and in diapers--to permanently erase the ideas of feminism and civil and human rights for women when they're just babies) to be sex and breeding slaves to all males who embrace and demand to live in an Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey-inspired world to "liberate" those men from feminism and women's rights and validate all of their "darkest fantasies"?

Taylor Swift got her big music deal and had to start acting like she was 45-years-old when she was 14. What if she'd been a pregnancy statistic instead of becoming who she is today?

In 2013, in the United States of America, 456,000 women younger than 20 became pregnant. Some 448,000 of those pregnancies were among 15–19-year-olds, and 7,400 were among those aged 14 and younger. https://www.guttmacher.org/report/us-adolescent-pregnancy-trends-2013.

If you thought the Glass Ceiling was bad, look at how bad things are, and how bad they're rapidly getting, for all women and girls because of the Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey farm animal face…

Nine Inch Nails - Only (Dirty) (Official Video)

Published: December 25, 2009 (359th day) Duration: 4:28 (268 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wwvLlEtxX3o wwvLlEtxX3o wwvLlEtxXo ellotvwwxx 5+20+20+50+100+700+900+900+300+300=3277. 3277+3=3280. 3280+268=3548. 3548+359=3907.

Strong's Concordance #3907 lachash: to whisper, charm, to mumble a spell (as a magician) Original Word: לָחַשׁ

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English) Pages 1461 and 1462: Psalm 41:6 My enemies speak evilly of me, "When will he die and his name perish?" Psalm 41:7 If one comes to visit, he speaks falsely; his mind stores up evil thoughts; once outside, he speaks them. Psalm 41:8 All my enemies whisper together against me, imagining the worst for me. Psalm 41:9 Something baneful has settled in him; he'll not rise from his bed again." Psalm 41:10 My ally in whom I trusted, even he who shares my bread, has been utterly false to me. Psalm 41:11 But You, O Lord, have mercy on me; let me rise again and repay them. Psalm 41:12 Then shall I know that You are pleased with me: when my enemy cannot shout in triumph over me. Psalm 41:13 You will support me because of my integrity, and let me abide in Your presence forever. Psalm 41:14 Blessed is the Lord, God of Israel, from eternity to eternity. Amen and Amen.

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English) Page 1481: Psalm 58:1 For the leader: al tashheth. Of David. A michtam. Psalm 58:2 O mighty ones, do you really decree what is just? Do you judge mankind with equity? Psalm 58:3 In your minds you devise wrongdoing in the land; with your hands you deal out lawlessness. Psalm 58:4 The wicked are defiant from birth; the liars go astray from the womb. Psalm 58:5 Their venom is like that of a snake, a deaf viper that stops its ears Psalm 58:6 so as not to hear the voice of charmers or the expert mutterer of spells.

Please Don’t Destroy - Three Sad Virgins (ft. Taylor Swift) - SNL

Published: November 13, 2021 (317th day) Duration: 4:11 (251 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=21Ki96Lsxhc 21Ki96Lsxhc KiLsxhc chiklsx 3+8+9+10+20+90+300=440. 440+21+96=557. 557+251=808. 808+317=1125.

Strong's Concordance #1125 Ben-abinadab: "son of Abinadab," "Son of the noble and generous King who will volunteer himself to do as the King commands," one of Solomon's leaders Original Word: בֶּן־אֲבִינָדָב

Mark 14:36 “Abba, Father,” he said, “everything is possible for you. Take this cup from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will.”

John 3:16 For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

“Under the sword lifted high, There is hell making you tremble. But go ahead, And you have the land of bliss.” ― Miyamoto Musashi satsujinken (殺人剣) "life-taking sword" katsujinken (活人剣) "life-giving sword"

Translation: “Under the life-taking sword lifted high, There is hell making you tremble. But go ahead, And you have the land of bliss.” ― Miyamoto Musashi “Under the life-giving sword lifted high, There is hell making you tremble. But go ahead, And you have the land of bliss.” ― Miyamoto Musashi

Heritage Farms Love Pillow 12x12 34300 $13.95 This pillow is a great stand-alone pillow or pairs well with any of the similar FAITH, FAMILY, FRIENDS, or HOPE pillows from the Heritage Farms collection. https://www.vhcbrands.com/Heritage-Farms-Love-Pillow-12x12-34300

Barton Community College is a public community college in Great Bend, Kansas. Motto: What Drives You? (Wikipedia)

Aang vs. Ozai 🔥 FULL UNCUT FINAL BATTLE | Avatar the Last Airbender

Published: March 23, 2020 (83rd day) Duration: 13:51 (831 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kXShLPXfWZA kXShLPXfWZA afhklpswxxz 1+6+8+10+20+60+90+900+300+300+500=2195. 2195+831=3026. 3026+83=3109.

Strong's Concordance #3109 Yocha: from Yhovah and a variation of chayah; Jehovah/the God of Israel-revived/resurrected; two Israelites Original Word: יוֹחָא

Donald Trump's Guide to American History | NowThis

Published: July 2, 2020 (184th day) Duration: 3:48 (228 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vtgzVARrPu4 vtgzVARrPu4 vtgzVARrPu agprrtuvvz 1+7+60+80+80+100+200+700+700+500=2428. 2428+4=2432. 2432+228=2660. 2660+184=2844.

Strong's Concordance #2844 chath: crushed; also afraid; abstractly, terror, broken, dismayed, dread, fear, hat. Original Word: חַת

Son of the King of Israel: Son of the Almighty Abrahamic G-d of the Abrahamic faiths… Jack is a given name, a diminutive of John (Jesus Christ's apostle) or Jackson; alternatively, it may be derived from Jacques, the French form of James (Jesus Christ's brother) or Jacob/Israel. (Wikipedia) Royston: Royce's town. Royce: Son of the King.

King Charles and Camilla's U.S. Crisis By Jack Royston On 9/10/23 at 3:00 AM EDT King Charles and Queen Camilla appear to be losing America one year into their reign, exclusive polling for Newsweek suggests. As the royals this week marked the one-year anniversary of Queen Elizabeth II's death, Britain's new monarch has already lost the good will built up during succession when millions around the world mourned his mother's death. The king was liked by 21 percent and disliked by 21 percent, giving him a net approval rating of zero, in a survey of 1,500 American adults conducted by Redfield & Wilton for Newsweek between September 3 and 4. Forty-four percent said their view was neither favorable nor unfavorable. And the queen consort was less popular than Prince Andrew, with support from 17 percent of Americans and opposition from 30 percent leading to a net approval rating of minus 13. Meanwhile, 41 percent had neither a favorable nor unfavorable perspective on her. The king and queen were in fact less popular in Newsweek's latest poll than in the days after Prince Harry's memoir, despite Spare's wide ranging attacks on both his father and his stepmother. https://www.newsweek.com/king-charles-queen-camilla-us-crisis-polling-1825179

Concerning a lost mother: אוֹדוֹת אֵם אֲבֵדָה

Strong's Concordance #182 odoth: from the same as 'uwd; turnings (i.e. Occasions); on account of, because, concerning, about, sake, a cause of Original Word: אוֹדוֹת

Strong's Concordance #517 em: a mother (as the bond of the family), a parting Original Word: אֵם

Strong's Concordance #9 abedah: a lost thing, something lost, destruction, i.e. Hades Original Word: אֲבֵדָה

One day, the sun god, Apollo, was teaching Hyacinthus the game of quoits. They decided to have a friendly competition by taking turns to throw the discus. Apollo threw first, with a strength so great that the discus split the clouds in the sky. Eager to retrieve the discus, Hyacinthus ran behind it to catch it. But as it hit the ground, the discus bounced back, hitting Hyacinthus' head and wounding him fatally. (Wikipedia)

Barton: a farmyard (Collins Dictionary) donald trump visited with an Iowa State agricultural fraternity and flipped burgers with them prior to heading to a luxury box at the Iowa Hawkeyes vs. Iowa State Cyclones game where he was booed and flipped off by people in the stands and a skywriter plane with a "Where's Melania?" banner flew overhead.

Jack Trice Stadium (originally Cyclone Stadium and formerly Jack Trice Field, sometimes referred to as "the Jack") is a stadium located in Ames, Iowa, United States. Primarily used for college football, it is the home field of the Iowa State Cyclones. It is named in honor of Jack Trice, Iowa State's first African American athlete, who died of injuries sustained during a 1923 game against Minnesota. (Wikipedia)

Jack is a given name, a diminutive of John (Jesus Christ's apostle) or Jackson; alternatively, it may be derived from Jacques, the French form of James (Jesus Christ's brother) or Jacob/Israel. (Wikipedia)

Trice:

a brief space of time: an instant

to haul up or in and lash, secure, bind (Merriam-Webster)

In the United States of America, the donkey is the symbol of the Democratic Party.

When your ass seems lost, have faith; you're on your way to the next time and place of the opportunity you're prepared for: being a crucial part of Earth's big, beautiful picture…

Luke 13:13 Then he put his hands on her, and immediately she straightened up and praised God. Luke 13:14 Indignant because Jesus had healed on the Sabbath, the synagogue leader said to the people, “There are six days for work. So come and be healed on those days, not on the Sabbath.” Luke 13:15 The Lord answered him, “You hypocrites! Doesn’t each of you on the Sabbath untie your ox or donkey from the stall and lead it out to give it water? Luke 13:16 Then should not this woman, a daughter of Abraham, whom Satan has kept bound for eighteen long years, be set free on the Sabbath day from what bound her?”

donald trump was booed and flipped off at the 9/9/2023 Iowa Hawkeyes vs. Iowa State Cyclones game while a skywriter plane with a "Where's Melania?" banner flew overhead.

“When falsehood can look so like the truth, who can assure themselves of certain happiness?” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“I am alone and miserable. Only someone as ugly as I am could love me.” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“It is true, we shall be monsters, cut off from all the world; but on that account we shall be more attached to one another.” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“How dangerous is the acquirement of knowledge and how much happier that man is who believes his native town to be the world, than he who aspires to be greater than his nature will allow.” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“I do know that for the sympathy of one living being, I would make peace with all. I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other.” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“Accursed creator! Why did you form a monster so hideous that even you turned from me in disgust?” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

“You are my creator, but I am your master; Obey!” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein

Listen to me (Yiddish): דֶּמַע אֵת

Puttin' On The Ritz (From "Young Frankenstein" Soundtrack)

Published: July 30, 2018 (211th day) Duration: 4:27 (267 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9OiNY2jBunA 9OiNY2jBunA OiNYjBunA abijnnouy 1+2+9+600+40+40+50+200+400=1342. 1342+9+2=1353. 1353+267=1620. 1620+211=1831.

Strong's Concordance #1831 dema: from dama'; to weep, a tear; figuratively, juice -- liquor, vintage, "that's it" (Yiddish) Original Word: דֶּמַע

Join The Family Business (From "Young Frankenstein" Soundtrack)

Published: July 30, 2018 (211th day) Duration: 4:18 (258 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Sh51QbSmNA 2Sh51QbSmNA ShQbSmNA abhmnqss 1+2+8+30+40+70+90+90=331. 331+2+51=384. 384+258=642. 642+211=853.

Strong's Concordance #853 eth: Apparent contracted from 'owth in the demonstrative sense of entity; you, properly, self (but generally used to point out more definitely the object of a verb or preposition, even or namely) Original Word: אֵת

“The world is a dangerous place to live, not because of the people who are evil, but because of the people who don't do anything about it.” ― Albert Einstein

In 2013, 456,000 women younger than 20 became pregnant. Some 448,000 of those pregnancies were among 15–19-year-olds, and 7,400 were among those aged 14 and younger. https://www.guttmacher.org/report/us-adolescent-pregnancy-trends-2013.

An important question for the 2024 U.S. Presidential Election is: "Did those age 10 to 14 pregnancy numbers increase, or decrease, during donald john trump's presidency?"

Barack Obama & Joseph Biden/Presidential & Vice Presidential term: January 20, 2009 – January 20, 2017 Sex offense offenders and victims statistics (Data: FBI) 2012: Male: 65,071 Forcible Sex Offenders with 61,486 Female Forcible Sex Victims 2012: Male: 5,859 Nonforcible Sex Offenders with 5,859 Female Nonforcible Sex Victims 2012: Male: 70,930 Total Sex Offenders with 67,345 Total Female Sex Victims

2013: Male: 62,280 Forcible Sex Offenders with 58,981 Female Forcible Sex Victims 2013: Male: 5,396 Nonforcible Sex Offenders with 5,511 Female Nonforcible Sex Victims 2013: Male: 67,676 Total Sex Offenders with 64,492 Total Female Sex Victims

2014: Male: 62,393 Forcible Sex Offenders with 59,875 Female Forcible Sex Victims 2014: Male: 4,804 Nonforcible Sex Offenders with 4,888 Female Nonforcible Sex Victims 2014: Male: 67,197 Total Sex Offenders with 64,763 Total Female Sex Victims

2015: Male: 66,545 Forcible Sex Offenders with 64,202 Female Forcible Sex Victims 2015: Male: 4,712 Nonforcible Sex Offenders with 4,836 Female Nonforcible Sex Victims 2015: Male: 71,257 Total Sex Offenders with 69,038 Total Female Sex Victims

donald john trump vs. Hillary Clinton (Male Chauvinist vs. Feminist) presidential Campaigns Effect: 2016: Male: 73,249 Forcible Sex Offenders with 71,180 Female Forcible Sex Victims 2016: Male: 4,588 Nonforcible Sex Offenders with 4,723 Female Nonforcible Sex Victims 2016: Male: 77,837 Total Sex Offenders with 75,903 Total Female Sex Victims

donald john trump/presidential term (Male Chauvinist Dominates and Defeats Feminist Effect): January 20, 2017 - January 20, 2021 Sex offense offenders and victims statistics (Data: FBI)

2017: Male: 79,635 Forcible Sex Offenders with 78,308 Female Forcible Sex Victims 2017: Male: 4,859 Nonforcible Sex Offenders with 4,922 Female Nonforcible Sex Victims 2017: Male: 84,494 Total Sex Offenders with 83,230 Total Female Sex Victims

2018: Male: 91,838 Total Sex Offenders with 91,219 Total Female Sex Victims

2019: Male: 105,030 Total Sex Offenders with 104,720 Total Female Sex Victims

2020: Unknown, but it's known that COVID-19 pandemic domestic violence, abuse, and sex offences were greatly increased during the pandemic when society at-large was severely distressed.

The numbers are clear: If Americans want to make America great again, where women and girls are safer with a future of personal choices and freedoms, the person to vote for in 2024 is Joseph Biden with a proven track record of a considerably greater and safer country during his entire Vice Presidency and Presidency than donald john trump. The Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey farm animal face doesn't make America great.

The clear and undeniable reason President Joe Biden is far superior in energy, health, fitness, strength, focus, cognizance, appearance, and results is because President Joe Biden actually listens to experts, implements their advice, and has a proven track record of successes to show for it; whereas donald trump is lazy, low energy, weak, scattered, morbidly obese, unattractive, uneducated, unsophisticated, lawless, and uncivilized because he's Joe Biden's polar opposite and rides around in a golf cart instead of walking the golf course every time he plays golf the way he's continuously advised to by actual experts, instead of working on what he's supposed to; like with his 365-day endless taxpayer-funded golf vacation from 2016 to 2021. Dilapidated donald trump honestly believes that swinging a golf club 18 times per day, lying about the results, and riding around in a golf cart is legit exercise that's forged and keeps him a "strong" and "trim" 6' 3" and 215 lbs. Such a perpetually melting golf cart-riding snowflake, that liddle diapered donnie trump.

Sportswriter: Trump cheats like a mafia accountant at golf

Published: April 2, 2019 (92nd day) Duration: 7:09 (429 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=INxGbTHybvc INxGbTHybvc bbcghintvxy 2+2+3+7+8+9+40+100+700+300+400=1571. 1571+429=2000. 2000+92=2092.

Strong's Concordance #2092 zaham: to be foul, rancid, loathsome, dirty, filthy Original Word: זָהַם

Why Trump's Agenda Is Anti-Christ | Opinions | NowThis Published: October 13, 2019 (286th day) (on the 4 year anniversary of donald trump's tweet portraying himself as a demon-infested frog president)

Duration: 6:06 (366 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-VIx7xX5tdQ -VIx7xX5tdQ VIxxXtdQ diqtvxxx 4+9+70+100+700+300+300+300=1783. 1783+7+5=1795. 1795+366=2161. 2161+286=2447.

Strong's Concordance #2447 chaklili: to be dull, dulled, reddish Original Word: חַכְלִיל

Some interesting observations about the church attendance data chart:

Never attending church: Something drove people away from Christian churches from 2016 to 2020. It started 3 years prior to the COVID pandemic.

Weekly church attendance: Something drove people away from Christian churches from the beginning of 2016 to the end of 2017.

Monthly church attendance: Something drove people away from Christian churches from the beginning of 2017 to present.

What changed in 2016? Many evangelicals claim that their long-awaited Christian and Hebrew Messiah and His Army of Christian Angels finally arrived and were fighting godlessness in the United States on behalf of their God. If that's the truth, then why didn't the actual long-awaited Christian and Hebrew Messiah and His Army of Christian Angels pack Christians into churches instead of driving them away in droves? Did their long-awaited Christian and Hebrew Messiah and His Army of Christian Angels make America great by destroying Christianity at levels never before seen in America? What about American national health, jobs numbers, national debt, national security, family values, and Christian values between 2016 to 2021? How can a so-called "long-awaited Christian and Hebrew Messiah and His Army of Christian Angels" have an antichrist/satanic effect on Christianity if they're not antichrist servants and satanists?

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English): Page 1810: Daniel 3:12 There are certain Jews whom you appointed to administer the province of Babylon, Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego; those men pay no heed to you, O king: they do not serve your god or worship the statue of gold that you have set up." Daniel 3:13 The Nebuchadnezzar, in raging fury, ordered Shadrach, Mesach, and Abed-nego to be brought; so those men were brought before the king. Daniel 3:14 Nebuchadnezzar spoke to them and said, "is it true, Shadrach, Mesach, and Abed-nego, that you do not serve my god or worship the statue of gold that I have set up? Daniel 3:15 Now if you are ready to fall down and worship the statue that I have made when you hear the sound of the horn, pipe, zither, lyre, psaltery, and bagpipe, and all other types of instruments, [well and good]; but if you will not worship, you shall at once be thrown into a burning fiery furnace, and what god is there that can save you from my power?" Daniel 3:16 Shadrach, Mesach, and Abed-nego said in reply to the king, "O Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter, Daniel 3:17 for if so it must be, our God whom we serve is able to save us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will save us from your power, O king. Daniel 3:18 But even if He does not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your god or worship the statue of gold that you have set up."

Trump Claimed ‘Magical Authorities’ Allowed Him to Do Illegal Things, Says Former Deputy Blasting Trump for "actively doing damage to our security," a former high-ranking Homeland Security official announces he is endorsing Joe Biden Tom Dickinson Rolling Stone August 18, 2020 Perhaps most alarming, Taylor says that Trump was undeterred by warnings that his chosen policy objectives were illegal: “He didn’t want us to tell them it was illegal anymore,” Taylor recalls, “because he knew that there were — and these were his words — he knew that he had ‘magical authorities.'” In the two-minute video, Taylor describes Trump not only as lawless, but as cruel and vindictive — alleging that the president sought to withhold FEMA aid to victims of wildfire in California because he was incensed that the state had voted against him, and that Trump wanted to restart the family-separation policy “to show those parents that they shouldn’t come to the border in the first place.” People who are still serving in this administration have said to me, 'Just wait until the second term. It’ll be no holds barred. It’ll be shock-and-awe. We’ll do what we want.' Given what I’ve experienced in the administration, I have to support Joe Biden for president. And even though I’m not a Democrat, even though I disagree on key issues, I’m confident that Joe Biden will protect the country. And I’m confident he won’t make the same mistakes as this president." https://www.rollingstone.com/politics/politics-news/trump-magical-authorities-miles-taylor-joe-biden-endorsement-1046114/

3=Holy Trinity. 33 AD: Passover Sacrifice and Resurrection of Jesus Christ

In me you will come forth, Lord: בֵּי תפֶּלֶ ט אַדּוֹן

Strong's Concordance #1046 Beth Palet: From bayith and paliyt; house of escape; house of output/production; house that delivers results; House of "Building Back Better"; a place in S. Judah Original Word: בֵּית פֶּלֶט

Strong's Concordance #114 Addon: powerful, lord, master, owner; a place in Babylon Original Word: אַדּוֹן

The Aleister Crowley and Anton LaVey farm animal face doesn't make America great.

Aleister Crowley believed that True Will and true magical power meant being a "demon infested" person with a self-proclaimed right and entitlement to: live by one's own law; live in the way that one wills to do; work, play, and rest as one will; die when and how one will; eat and drink what one will; live where one will; move about the earth as one will; think, speak, write, draw, paint, carve, etch, mould, build, and dress as one will; love when, where and with whom one will; and kill those who would thwart these rights irrespective of any laws and/or what anyone thinks or feels about the "demon infested" individual engaging in these indulgent, chaotic, indulgent, uncivilized, and criminal behaviors and actions. Crowley believed that the only real definition of a "Crime" is described as being a violation of one's True Will and that the "demon infested" individual has a divine right and responsibility to the world, humanity, and the Universe to kill those who would thwart a "demon infested" individual's True Will rights. (Wikipedia)

Anton LaVey believed in the imminent demise of Christianity. In addition, he believed that society would enter an Age of Satan, in which a generation living in accordance with LaVeyan principles would come to power. LaVeyan Satanism places great emphasis on the role of liberty and personal freedom. LaVey believed that the ideal Satanist should be individualistic and non-conformist, rejecting what he called the "colorless existence" that mainstream society sought to impose on those living within it. He praised the human ego for encouraging an individual's pride, self-respect, and self-realization and accordingly believed in satisfying the ego's desires. He expressed the view that self-indulgence was a desirable trait, and that hate and aggression were not wrong or undesirable emotions but that they were necessary and advantageous for survival. Accordingly, he praised the Seven Deadly Sins as virtues which were beneficial for the individual.

The anthropologist Jean La Fontaine highlighted an article that appeared in a LaVeyan magazine, The Black Flame, in which one writer described "a true Satanic society" as one in which the population consists of "free-spirited, well-armed, fully-conscious, self-disciplined individuals, who will neither need nor tolerate any external entity 'protecting' them or telling them what they can and cannot do." See: the lawless cult and criminal organization of donald trump's MAGA/Christian Identity movement.

Anton LaVey supported eugenics and expected it to become a necessity in the future, when it would be used to breed an elite who reflected LaVey's "Satanic" principles. In his view, this elite would be "superior people" who displayed the "Satanic" qualities of creativity and nonconformity. He regarded these traits as capable of hereditary transmission, and made the claim that "Satanists are born, not made". He believed that the elite should be siphoned off from the rest of the human "herd", with the latter being forced into ghettoes, ideally "space ghettoes" located on other planets. (Wikipedia)

Scientific racism misapplies, misconstrues, or distorts anthropology (notably physical anthropology), anthropometry, craniometry, evolutionary biology, and other disciplines or pseudo-disciplines, in proposing anthropological typologies supporting the classification of human populations into physically discrete human races, some of which might be asserted to be superior or inferior to others. Scientific racism was common during the period from the 1600s to the end of World War II, and was particularly prominent in European and American academic writings from the mid 19th century through the early 20th century. Since the second half of the 20th century, scientific racism has been criticized as obsolete and discredited, yet has persistently been used to support or validate racist world-views, based upon belief in the existence and significance of racial categories and a hierarchy of superior and inferior races. The Nazi Party and its sympathizers published many books on scientific racism, seizing on the eugenicist and antisemitic ideas with which they were widely associated, although these ideas had been in circulation since the 19th century. Books such as Rassenkunde des deutschen Volkes ("Racial Science of the German People") by Hans Günther (first published in 1922)and Rasse und Seele ("Race and Soul") by Ludwig Ferdinand Clauß [de] (published under different titles between 1926 and 1934) attempted to scientifically identify differences between the German, Nordic, or Aryan people and other, supposedly inferior, groups. German schools used these books as texts during the Nazi era. In the early 1930s, the Nazis used racialized scientific rhetoric based on social Darwinism to push its restrictive and discriminatory social policies. During World War II, Nazi racialist beliefs became anathema in the United States, and Boasians such as Ruth Benedict consolidated their institutional power. After the war, discovery of the Holocaust and Nazi abuses of scientific research (such as Josef Mengele's ethical violations and other war crimes revealed at the Nuremberg Trials) led most of the scientific community to repudiate scientific support for racism. Although the child was "the most important treasure of the people", this did not apply to all children, even German ones, only to those with no hereditary weaknesses. Nazi Germany's racially based social policies placed the improvement of the Aryan race through eugenics at the center of Nazis ideology. Those humans were targeted who were identified as "life unworthy of life" (German: Lebensunwertes Leben), including but not limited to Jewish people, criminals, degenerate, dissident, feeble-minded, homosexual, idle, insane, and the weak, for elimination from the chain of heredity. Although they were still regarded as "Aryan", Nazi ideology deemed Slavs (i.e., Poles, Russians, Ukrainians, etc.) to be racially inferior to the Germanic master race, suitable for expulsion, enslavement, or even extermination.  Adolf Hitler banned intelligence quotient (IQ) testing for being "Jewish". Beginning with the invasion of Poland during World War II, the Nazi regime set up ghettos across German-occupied Eastern Europe in order to segregate and confine Jews, and sometimes Romani people, into small sections of towns and cities furthering their exploitation. (Wikipedia)

The Blue Ribbon Study Panel on Biodefense, which comprises a group of experts on national security and government officials, in which Gerstein had previously testified to, submitted its National Blueprint for Biodefense to Congress in October 2015 listing their recommendations for devising an effective plan.

Bill Gates said in a February 18, 2017 Business Insider op-ed (published near the time of his Munich Security Conference speech) that it is possible for an airborne pathogen to kill at least 30 million people over the course of a year. In a New York Times report, the Gates Foundation predicted that a modern outbreak similar to the Spanish Influenza pandemic (which killed between 50 million and 100 million people) could end up killing more than 360 million people worldwide, even considering widespread availability of vaccines and other healthcare tools. The report cited increased globalization, rapid international air travel, and urbanization as increased reasons for concern. In a March 9, 2017, interview with CNBC, former U.S. Senator Joe Lieberman, who was co-chair of the bipartisan Blue Ribbon Study Panel on Biodefense, said a worldwide pandemic could end the lives of more people than a nuclear war. Lieberman also expressed worry that a terrorist group like ISIS could develop a synthetic influenza strain and introduce it to the world to kill civilians. In July 2017, Robert C. Hutchinson, former agent at the Department of Homeland Security, called for a "whole-of-government" response to the next global health threat, which he described as including strict security procedures at our borders and proper execution of government preparedness plans.

2017 U.S. budget proposal affecting bioterrorism programs President donald trump promoted his first budget around keeping America safe. However, one aspect of defense would receive less money: "protecting the nation from deadly pathogens, man-made or natural," according to The New York Times. Agencies tasked with biosecurity get a decrease in funding under the Administration's budget proposal. For example: The Office of Public Health Preparedness and Response would be cut by $136 million, or 9.7 percent. The office tracks outbreaks of disease. The National Center for Emerging and Zoonotic Infectious Diseases would be cut by $65 million, or 11 percent. The center is a branch of the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention that fights threats like anthrax and the Ebola virus, and additionally towards research on HIV/AIDS vaccines. Within the National Institutes of Health, the National Institute of Allergy and Infectious Diseases (NIAID) would lose 18 percent of its budget. NIAID oversees responses to Zika, Ebola and HIV/AIDS vaccine research. In February 2018, a CNN employee discovered on an airplane a "sensitive, top-secret document in the seatback pouch explaining how the Department of Homeland Security would respond to a bioterrorism attack at the Super Bowl."

Timeline of Trump’s Coronavirus Responses: May 2018: The Trump Administration disbands the White House pandemic response team. July 2019: The Centers for Disease Control (CDC) epidemiologist embedded in China’s disease control agency left the post, and the Trump Administration eliminated the role. Oct. 2019: “Currently, there are insufficient funding sources designated for the federal government to use in response to a severe influenza pandemic.” Jan. 22, 2020: “We have it totally under control. It’s one person coming in from China. It’s going to be just fine.” Jan. 24, 2020: Trump praises China’s handling of the coronavirus: “China has been working very hard to contain the Coronavirus. The United States greatly appreciates their efforts and transparency. It will all work out well. In particular, on behalf of the American People, I want to thank President Xi!” Jan. 28, 2020: “This will be the biggest national security threat you face in your presidency…This is going to be the roughest thing you face." Trump’s National Security Advisor says to Trump. Jan. 30, 2020: "The lack of immune protection or an existing cure or vaccine would leave Americans defenseless in the case of a full-blown coronavirus outbreak on US soil,…This lack of protection elevates the risk of the coronavirus evolving into a full-blown pandemic, imperiling the lives of millions of Americans.” [Memo from Trump Trade Advisor Peter Navarro] Feb. 2, 2020: “We pretty much shut it down coming in from China.” Feb. 7, 2020: “It’s also more deadly than even your strenuous flu… This is deadly stuff.” [Trump in a private interview with Bob Woodward from The Washington Post made public on Sept. 9, 2020] doggett.house.gov/media/blog-post/timeline-trumps-coronavirus-responses

On donald trump’s Last Full Day as President of the United States of America, the United States Recorded at Total of 400,000 Covid Deaths as a result of him sabotaging the United States of America and the American people. The death toll of 400,000 exceeded any other country’s count — close to double what Brazil has recorded, and four times the toll in the United Kingdom. https://kffhealthnews.org/news/nation-records-400000-covid-deaths-on-last-day-of-donald-trump-presidency/

Beginning in September 2019, a campaign of cyberattacks, now identified to be perpetrated by the Russian Foreign Intelligence Service (hereafter referred to as the threat actor), breached the computing networks at SolarWinds—a Texas-based network management software company.

The threat actor first conducted a “dry run,” injecting test code into SolarWinds’ network management and monitoring suite of products called Orion. Then, beginning in February 2020, the threat actor injected trojanized (hidden) code into a file that was later included in SolarWinds’ Orion software updates. SolarWinds released the software updates to its customers not realizing that the updates were compromised. The trojanized code had provided the threat actor with a “backdoor”—a program that can give an intruder remote access to an infected computer. According to cybersecurity researchers, the threat actor was then able to remotely exploit the networks and systems of SolarWinds’ customers who had downloaded the compromised software updates using a sophisticated computing infrastructure. Since SolarWinds is widely used in the federal government to monitor network activity on federal systems, this incident allowed the threat actor to breach infected agency information systems. SolarWinds estimates that nearly 18,000 of its customers received a compromised software update. Of those, the threat actor targeted a smaller subset of high-value customers, including the federal government, to exploit for the primary purpose of espionage. www.gao.gov/blog/solarwinds-cyberattack-demands-significant-federal-and-private-sector-response-infographic

The Patriot Act was enacted following the September 11 attacks and the 2001 anthrax attacks with the stated goal of tightening U.S. national security, particularly as it related to foreign terrorism. Under donald trump's watch, in November 2019, the renewal of the Patriot Act was included in the stop-gap government funding bill.

The expired provisions required renewal by March 15, 2020. The Senate passed a 77-day extension in March 2020, but the House of Representatives did not pass the legislation before departing for recess on March 27, 2020. Instead the Patriot Act was split into two measures as a means of explaining to the public that the Patriot Act would no longer openly be in effect. After President Donald Trump threatened to veto the bill, the House of Representatives issued an indefinite postponement of the vote to pass the Senate version of the bill; as of December 2020, the Patriot Act remains expired due to the Taliban's favorite president: donald john trump. (Wikipedia)

The Taliban on Trump: "We hope he will win the election" and withdraw U.S. troops By Sami Yousafzai Updated on: October 11, 2020 / 9:30 AM / CBS News Taliban spokesman Zabihullah Mujahid told CBS News in a phone interview, "We believe that Trump is going to win the upcoming election because he has proved himself a politician who accomplished all the major promises he had made to American people, although he might have missed some small things, but did accomplish the bigger promises, so it is possible that the U.S. people who experienced deceptions in the past will once again trust Trump for his decisive actions." Mujahid added, "We think the majority of the American population is tired of instability, economic failures and politicians' lies and will trust again on Trump because Trump is decisive, could control the situation inside the country. Other politicians, including Biden, chant unrealistic slogans. Some other groups, which are smaller in size but are involved in the military business including weapons manufacturing companies' owners and others who somehow get the benefit of war extension, they might be against Trump and support Biden, but their numbers among voters is low." https://www.cbsnews.com/news/taliban-on-trump-we-hope-he-will-win-the-election-withdraw-us-troops/

Former President Donald Trump praised the Taliban on Tuesday, August 17, 2021, calling the group “smart” and “good fighters.” “The Taliban, good fighters, I will tell you, good fighters. You have to give them credit for that. They’ve been fighting for a thousand years. What they do is they fight,” Trump said on Fox News’ [Hannity] on August 17, 2021. The Taliban, of course, have not been fighting for 1,000 years, as the organization was founded in the early 1990s, though that’s the least problematic thing that came out of Trump’s mouth during the interview. https://www.vanityfair.com/news/2021/08/donald-trump-taliban-good-fighters-great-negotiators

On October 4, 2001, British Prime Minister Tony Blair released information compiled by Western intelligence agencies connecting Osama bin Laden to Afghanistan's Taliban leadership as well as being the leader of the al-Qaeda organization. The Taliban government gave a safe haven to Osama bin Laden in the years leading up to the attack, and his al-Qaeda network may have had a close relationship with the Taliban army and police. On the day of 9/11, the Taliban foreign minister told the Arab television network Al Jazeera: "We denounce this terrorist attack, whoever is behind it." The United States requested the Taliban to shut down all al-Qaeda bases in Afghanistan, open them to inspection and turn over Osama bin Laden. The Taliban refused all these requests. Instead, they offered to extradite Osama bin Laden to an Islamic country, for trial under Islamic law, if the United States presented evidence of his guilt. The Taliban had previously refused to extradite bin Laden to the United States, or prosecute him, after he was indicted by the US federal courts for involvement in the 1998 United States embassy bombings in Kenya and Tanzania. The Taliban deemed eyewitness testimony and satellite phone call recordings entered into the public record in February 2001 during a trial as insufficient grounds to extradite bin Laden for his involvement in the bombings.

Lisa Hannigan - "Barton" (from At Swim): "Same as ever it begins Heard a knock and let it in This is just the medicine To swallow I'll be on my own awhile Smiling like a crocodile You can see for miles and miles It follows Broken as it is, this is love I don't remember where I was Heavy is as heavy does Weighed me down because It's hollow"

Fact-checking a mixed bag of accusations on Trump and 9/11 A Facebook post levels eight accusations against President Donald Trump and his comments around the 9/11 attacks, with mixed results for accuracy. The post says:

Trump gave "NO MONEY" to 9/11 charities;

"Bragged" about his building being the tallest after the Twin Towers fell;

Opposed construction for the 9/11 memorial;"Lied" about housing people at 40 Wall St. after the attacks;

Claimed he " ‘helped a little bit’ in clearing the rubble;"

Claimed he saw bodies falling from his Midtown apartment ("impossible");

Claimed that 9/11 would not have happened if he were president;

Once tweeted, "I would like to extend my best wishes to all, even the haters and losers, on this special date, September 11th."

Trump’s tweet about haters and losers really did happen. The others claims on the list required more digging. We found some of the claims were accurate while others were clearly exaggerated. We first noticed the post after Trump signed a permanent extension of the Victim Compensation Fund for 9/11 rescue workers. During a Rose Garden ceremony with first responders, Trump said, "Many of those affected were firefighters, police officers, and other first responders. And I was down there also, but I’m not considering myself a first responder. But I was down there. I spent a lot of time down there with you." If Trump spent significant time at the site, there is no documentation to prove it.

Says Trump "gave NO MONEY to 9/11 charities after the terrorist attacks" We could not find a record of Trump donating to 9/11 charities after the attacks (though he did donate to the 9/11 Museum amid the 2016 campaign). Trump did pledge to make a $10,000 donation to the Twin Towers Fund as part of a drive led by Howard Stern, the New York Daily News reported. The office of the New York City comptroller looked into donors to the Twin Towers Fund and the New York City Public/Private Initiatives, Inc., within a year of the 9/11 attacks. (The probe was limited to a year because most donations came in the immediate months of 9/11, the office has said.) The review showed Trump did not make a $10,000 donation to those funds, the New York Daily News reported. The White House and Trump campaign did not comment.

Says Trump "bragged about his building 40 Wall St. being ‘the tallest’ immediately after the towers fell" This is accurate. Trump first made this claim when he was asked about the condition of the Trump Building at 40 Wall Street during a live TV interview the afternoon of Sept. 11, 2001. "40 Wall Street actually was the second-tallest building in downtown Manhattan, and it was actually, before the World Trade Center, was the tallest — and then, when they built the World Trade Center, it became known as the second tallest. And now it’s the tallest," Trump said. In actuality, once the Twin Towers were decimated, the 71-story Trump Building at 40 Wall Street was the second-tallest building still standing in Lower Manhattan, according to the Washington Post. It was 25 feet shorter than the building at 70 Pine Street. That’s not to say that 40 Wall Street has never been the tallest in Lower Manhattan: It was for two years in the 1930s, before Trump owned it. Currently, Trump’s building on 40 Wall Street is the 32nd-tallest building either erected or under development in New York City.

Says Trump "strongly opposed the construction of the 9/11 memorial" Trump opposed certain design elements of the new One World Trade Center, not construction of the memorial itself. News stories show that Trump was opposed to the design of "Freedom Tower," the 1,776-ft skyscraper that eventually became known as One World Trade Center, a towering, symbolic structure to replace the twin towers. Trump in 2005 criticized the design as "skeletal" with "wrong angles," and said he wanted the World Trade Center to be rebuilt, only "taller" and "stronger." "If we rebuild the World Trade Center in the form of a skeleton, Freedom Tower, the terrorists win," Trump said in a May 2005 in Trump Tower. "We want to rebuild the World Trade Center as the World Trade Center but better — a little bit taller, a lot stronger, just plain better." Today, in addition to the landmark tower that draws worldwide visitors, Ground Zero is home to 2 World Trade Center, 3 World Trade Center, 4 World Trade Center, a transportation hub and the 9/11 Memorial Museum and Plaza as well as the Ronald O. Perelman Performing Arts Center, which is under construction. Trump’s foundation made a $100,000 donation to the 9/11 Museum in 2016, according to the Washington Post.

Says Trump "lied about housing people at 40 Wall St. after the attacks" This appears to reference what Trump said about a $150,000 grant his company received from a recovery program set up for small businesses for his building at 40 Wall Street. To be eligible, small firms had to prove they had been "physically or economically damaged by the attacks, and located on or south of 14th Street in Lower Manhattan," PolitiFact reported in 2016. Trump told TIME in 2016 that the grant "was probably a reimbursement for the fact that I allowed people, for many months, to stay in the building, use the building and store things in the building…." However, the public portion of his company’s grant application makes no mention of providing shelter. We requested a copy of the application for a grant from the 9/11 business recovery grant program administered by the Empire State Development Corporation. Much of the copy we received back was blacked out. However, the visible portion showed a 2002 revised application. It said the economic losses stemmed from rent loss, cleanup and repair. The application was signed by Nancy Lara, who worked for the Trump organization at the time. The documents also showed there were 20 employees including the owner. (This matches what a New York Daily News article in 2016 showed too.) A $150,000 payment was approved.

Says Trump "claimed he ‘helped a little bit’ in clearing the rubble (no evidence to support)" We were not able to verify that Trump helped in cleanup efforts. Trump claimed that he assisted in cleanup efforts during the 2016 campaign. "Everyone who helped clear the rubble – and I was there, and I watched, and I helped a little bit – but I want to tell you: Those people were amazing," Trump said. Trump was near Ground Zero soon after the attacks took place, but the White House has not corroborated the claim that he helped clear out rubble. Richard Alles, a New York Fire Department retired deputy chief, was on the scene after the attacks. He told us he "was there for several months" and had "no knowledge of (Trump) being down there."

Says Trump "claimed he saw bodies falling from the Towers from his Midtown apartment (impossible)" Trump did make this claim, and fact-checkers have been skeptical given the distance to his apartment in Trump Tower in midtown Manhattan. "I have a window in my apartment that specifically was aimed at the World Trade Center because of the beauty of the whole downtown Manhattan. And I watched as people jumped, and I watched the second plane come in," Trump said at an Ohio rally in 2015. But Trump’s midtown apartment is about four miles away from where the Twin Towers stood, according to CNN. On the day of the attacks, Trump described what he saw from his office in an interview with WWOR-TV. "I have a window that looks directly at the World Trade Center, and I saw this huge explosion. I was with a group of people," Trump said. "I really couldn’t even believe it."

Says Trump "claimed that 9/11 wouldn’t have happened if he were president" This is largely accurate. Trump said on "Fox News Sunday" in 2015 that he didn’t blame former President George W. Bush for the 9/11 attacks, but "there’s a good chance" the perpetrators wouldn’t have been in the country if he were president. On the 2016 campaign trail, Trump implied Bush bears some responsibility for the events that took place. "When you talk about George Bush, I mean, say what you want, the World Trade Center came down during his time," Trump said in an interview on Bloomberg TV in 2015.

Says Trump "once tweeted, ‘I would like to extend my best wishes to all, even the haters and losers, on this special date, September 11th.’" This checks out. Trump tweeted those words on the 9/11 anniversary in 2013. He also mentioned "haters and losers" for Memorial Day in 2015 and Veterans Day in 2013, among many other occasions over the years. https://www.politifact.com/article/2019/sep/11/fact-checking-mixed-bag-accusations-trump-and-911/

23 Elul (2105 BCE) – Dove brings olive Leaf to Noah 23 Elul (2001) – Attack of 9/11 on the World Trade Center in New York City

23 Elul, 5783: 09/09/2023 Saturday - Nitzavim-Vayelech Parashat Nitzavim-Vayeilech / פָּרָשַׁת נִצָּבִים־וַיֵּלֶךְ

Parashat Nitzavim-Vayeilech is the 51st and 52nd weekly Torah portion in the annual Jewish cycle of Torah reading. Next read on 9 September 2023 / 23 Elul 5783.

Torah Portion: Deuteronomy 29:9-31:30 In Nitzavim (“Standing”), Moses addresses the Israelites, emphasizing the importance of following God’s covenant and of not worshiping other gods. He describes the process of repentance and returning to God, and stresses that God’s commandments are achievable and “not in the heavens.” Vayeilech (“He Went”) opens as Moses tells the Israelites that he will not lead them into the Land of Israel, and that Joshua will take over. He instructs the Israelites to gather and read Torah publicly every seven years. At God’s command, Moses writes a poem bearing witness to God’s covenant with the Israelites. (HebCal.com)

24 Elul, 5783: 9/10/2023 Sunday

25 Elul (3761 BCE) – The 1st day of the world according to the Genesis creation narrative 25 Elul (335 BCE) – Jerusalem Walls Rebuilt 25 Elul, 5783: 9/11/2023 Monday

Taylor Swift - "Didn't They"

Published: September 14, 2021 (257th day) Duration: 3:40 (220 seconds) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PeqsJRy-pc8 PeqsJRy-pc8 cejppqrsy 3+5+600+60+60+70+80+90+400=1368. 1368+8=1376. 1376+220=1596. 1596+257=1853.

Strong's Concordance #1853 Diqlah: a son of Joktan, also the S. Arabian tribe descended from him, palm tree. Original Word: דִּקְלָה

TANAKH (Jewish Publication Society, Hebrew-English) Page 1529: Psalm 92:12 I shall see the defeat of my watchful foes, hear of the downfall of the wicked who beset me. Psalm 92:13 The righteous bloom like a date-palm; they thrive like a cedar in Lebanon; Psalm 92:14 planted in the house of the Lord, they flourish in the courts of our God. Psalm 92:15 In old age they still produce fruit; they are full of sap and freshness, Psalm 92:16 attesting that the Lord is upright, my rock, in whom there is no wrong.

John 12:12 The next day the great crowd that had come for the festival heard that Jesus was on his way to Jerusalem. John 12:13 They took palm branches and went out to meet him, shouting, “Hosanna!” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Blessed is the King of Israel!”

He kissed his wife goodbye And took the earliest flight So he could be home that night To put his kids to sleep Down the aisle Three men walked and said We're here to die for our God He stood up and said that's funny Cause my God died for me I put the magazine down I read his words out loud I sat down and cried I walk to school And I wear a cross I'm counting Every day

"Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion’s starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don’t see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often it’s not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it’s always there – fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge – they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love actually is all around." - David (Love Actually)

[soysaucevictim]

“it feels like my brain (was floating in a fishtank)”

(See warnings/summary on Ao3.)

[ Prologue/Start ] [ Previous ]

Chapter 10: When Shall I Be Free?

Vic noticed Roman acting strange, a lot like Remus had before he made Jude.

So he wasn’t as blindsided when Roman asked to come with him to work, otherwise, out of nowhere. Roman was twitchy and distracted, as Vic refreshed his kid on where everything was at the zoo. Roman was never as interested in the animals there as Remus and it had been years since Roman was last here. 

Vic knew if he hadn’t had the blessing of knowing his sons their whole life – he’d probably be confused about why they were so different about it. Vic agreed with Remus on the animals being better than people, humans also being animals taken into account, it really was like the kid sort of knew what he was on some level?

Roman was very visibly uncomfortable with basically any animal species that had some sort of nonsense stigma attached to them. The last time Roman was even at the zoo ended in him being spooked by watching one of the ambassador komodo dragons tearing apart a deer carcass behind the scenes. It was like he desperately wanted to separate himself from them.

Ever since Vic Awakened, he realized he only could draw parallels with his “patients”, personal experiences, and philosophy more than fully getting inside their heads. Perhaps, Logan was onto something on that one. He saw how uncomfortable Roman was about a lot of things, and wished he could help more.

“Dad?”

“Yes?”

“This is going to sound weird and gross… but where do you keep the animals when they die? I-I don’t think I can do what I need to when there’s still life in their eyes...”

“Understandable. Admittedly, the bureaucracy will be easier to deal with that way, too.”

Vic brought his son over to the freezers where they kept all dead animals for processing. They were waiting on necropsy and sample-taking from the on-site lab. Those not to be cremated in the same lab were to be prepared for natural history museums or colleges with veterinary/ecological programs.

There were different species at different stages – grouped together by taxa. There was usually a pretty diverse selection from eagles to green iguanas. Vic wasn’t sure where to point his son toward, worried he wouldn’t stand the sight of it all. “Take your time, mijo. I’ll tell you if you can… use the remains.”

It was a chilled room with shelves of labeled containers, Vic always shivered a little bit in this space. Remus often shrugged it off and it looked like Roman was unaffected too. Remus liked colder weather and Roman just ran pretty hot, so it made sense to Vic. Roman paced around looking for whatever he needed here, not saying anything and a look of laser focus.

Eventually they stuck around the iguanas section, this zoo had a robust population that were crowd favorites. They were pretty well cared for there, but accidents, old age, and other things happen. A lot of times it was pretty open and shut cases for the zoo staff.

When Vic cleared Roman for a pair of specimens, and they had them splayed onto a table nearby. Roman asked, “There’s no cameras in here are there?”

Vic had to glance around before reassuring him, “Nope!”

“Okay, didn’t think so.”

Vic watched as a low growl came from Roman and energies gathered around him. This time he saw features of Roman’s Horror flicker into view, jagged claws and scaly skin. The skin looked ethereal and mid-molt, no wonder he seemed so agitated. 

Roman peeled off pieces of skin and gingerly swaddled the two lizards in it. In moments, the skin melted into them. They started to twitch uncontrollably like Galvani’s frogs. The green scales took on the same colors of his Horror, even though the iguanas’ natural color pattern remained.

These weren’t juveniles and weren’t exactly small – but they grew nearly a whole extra yard in length. Their claws and spines hardened, twisted, and darkened into gnarled lava glass. The teeth grew larger and sharper – no longer the herbivorous pattern they naturally had and so quickly that their jaws warped unevenly. Then, the two creatures curled up into a painful looking ball as each violently sprouted bloody wings. The blood crystallized into scales and the two creatures righted themselves as if nothing had happened.

Vic swore that the whole thing should have disturbed Roman, given how he acted around Remus’s horrorspawn. But Roman stood there with a hazy smile, petting them affectionately. Roman looked to Vic asking, “Aren’t Rubí and Oro the cutest?”

Vic blinked and stared at them, he and Remus had a bizarre definition of “cute” as it was. He could find something uncanny and endearing about these new horrorspawn – but he had enough social awareness to know that not many would upon looking at them.

He supposed he shouldn’t be surprised, given the time he wandered around in Roman’s soul. A solid reminder of what Roman and Remus were – there was no way of changing that. And he had no desire to.

They could unpack everything once Remus was back, safe and sound.

-

In the last week of October, Remus’s horrorspawn stopped harassing the brood entirely.

The instant midnight struck, making it officially All Hallow’s Eve, Remus left Roman another message. Only it didn’t sound like his brother at all, at least at first.

“Miss me? I hope you didn’t forget our appointment this fine evening? I’ve been building up to something and I’m looking forward to showing it to you all. I’ll be around the New Orleans Square. You won’t disappoint me, will you? Please please be there, Robro. I-I’m sca-!”

Again, he was cut off. Roman was relieved his brother was still alive out there, but he had no idea what to expect once at Disneyland. Everyone had whipped together some costumes beforehand. Besides being festive, it would provide some plausibly deniable cover for some of the brood’s planned supernatural activity. That’s what Janus asserted, anyways.

Roman couldn’t get out of his mind ever since he “talked” to Milo about making nightmares, the stupid nickname he got. He huffed, going for Jake Long’s outfit. It was still Disney, so it was good enough. The green highlights suited Remus more, if he was being honest with himself.

Everyone was to arrive at the park, except for Patton. Pretty much everyone was vocal about not endangering him by taking him along. Carrie was able to convince him to go trick-or-treating with those Heroes she met at the Ren Fair. He’d be in good hands. That didn’t stop her worrying about all the other park guests, nor whatever state Remus was in.

Virgil was restless about the separation, but Carrie was glad that he could be convinced this was for the best. Patton even cheerfully handed him the costume he wanted his brother to wear, which made Virgil flush with embarrassment. It was a Spider-Man suit – but at least he picked the black one from the third movie. Tastefully edgy.

Carrie found some amusement that Vic and Logan were dressed as fictional doctors, Dolittle and Frankenstein, respectively. Logan seemed more annoyed about it than Vic – so he used that magic to make them more distinguished. Logan cribbed from the Romantic Period attire and Vic was more contemporary. Vic asked to have some embroidery with animals on his own lab coat, Logan obliged in that embellishment.

Carrie herself dressed up like Elizabeth Swan, in a stylish replication of Sao Feng’s armor. She also tied on that enchanted bag, to hide her actual weapons from the gate crew. She did, however, bring along fake swords to assemble the look. She was more focused on wanting to completely and utterly exterminate the monster that took her son from her, but if that wasn’t feasible- she shook her head. She simply thought, “We’ll obliterate that bridge when we get to it.”

In addition to the contingency plan materials, Logan tossed a can of AXE body spray and a lighter into the bag. Carrie quirked an eyebrow and Logan simply answered, “Just in case.”

Janus didn’t really stray from their typical color scheme and elegance. When Vic asked about it, Janus smirked and showed him some fangs and a few fake blood squibs. Logan groaned, “A vampire, of course she picks that.”

This earned an indignant huff from Janus, and some much needed laughter from the remaining brood members. They were all sure they wouldn’t be able to appreciate the mirth at the park for long.

-

They arrived a few hours after noon.

The park was done up for the whole month to celebrate the occasion. Topping the entrance gates were several pumpkins and jack o’ lanterns fashioned into characters like Mickey, Minnie, Goofy, and Donald.

There were no incidents in line, as Roman had his horrorspawn sneak through ahead of them. There were a few scant glances at them, but no one intervened. The funny thing about all this supernatural stuff was how beings like himself had to pretend to be Normal. They could find some protection in the crowd, but he was sure that wasn’t going to remain the case soon.

Roman still had trouble getting into the mood like pretty much every year before this point. It was one of his and Remus’s favorite holidays. It was definitely Remus’s, to no one’s surprise. Roman had it tied with Christmas – that meant more treasure to his pile. He groaned, thinking, “Quit thinking like Remus is- no. I’m not even going to finish that thought.”

City Hall and the rest of Main Street were decorated with warm, fall colors: in the bunting, the marigolds, the carnations, and more jack o’lanterns peppering the buildings around them. Roman couldn’t focus very well, in between the overhanging dread and maintaining command of Rubí and Oro. Oro kept wanting to snatch away some of the carved pumpkins, littering the place. Rubí snuck off and stole one of those Mickey light spinners from some random guest that was too busy on the phone to notice it.

At least they hid from sight of most people here, when they returned with the objects he loved. It was energizing to him, but he had to tell them to stop doing it, just in case. His mom noticed how restless he was, “Roise, don’t worry too much, alright? We’ll find him. So help me-”

Roman noticed that terrifying fury simmering behind her eyes, fury and fear. He didn’t comment on that, “Th-thanks, mom…”

While they were still going north along Main Street, someone bumped into Virgil. Virgil didn’t seem to catch who they were beyond saying, “Geez, dude. Coming in here smelling like an entire brewery!?”

Roman’s attention snapped to them just before they got lost in the crowd. It was some random guy dressed as King Triton, his gait obviously drunken. He wore one of those golden sequin shirts, on top of all the canon stuff. He had a suspicious fanny pack around the waist and a replica of the Trident strapped to his back. The prop seemed familiar to Roman, somehow. It was a wonder how he managed to get past park security in such a state.

Despite some of his face being covered by a large costume beard, Roman suddenly recognized it. Roman elbowed Virgil, “I-I think that was the police chief, Vee.”

Virgil let out a hushed curse, “Why is he here!?”

“I don’t know!”

Roman was unsettled by that, “Was he going where I think he was going?”

Janus cleared their throat, “I believe he was heading into Frontierland.”

Vic piped up, “How-?”

Janus whispered to him, “You should know by now. I have eyes in many places, Val.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, as the rest of them renewed their focus. It was along the way to New Orleans Square. As they walked along the Rivers of America, everyone had a strange feeling. Carrie looked around first, “I-I think I can sense him nearby!”

The Beasts in the group nodded at each other.

Before much longer, Roman saw Remus standing there at the Photo Spot. Remus was staring at the docked Columbia, very still, with strange company. He was dressed like the others in the group, wearing burgundy robes. Roman shuddered about them being the so-called friends his brother mentioned. They reeked of overflowing fear and admiration, yet no other guests acknowledged their presence.

He looked back, “I-I want to try to talk to him, first.”

Janus whispered back, “Be careful.”

Virgil added, “We got your back. Because, someone has to.”

Roman took a deep breath and approached. He recognized at least one of the robed guys from the scalpers group and another one of the staff members from their high school. Another of them, a total stranger, had a more elaborate robe. They had a hand on his brother’s shoulders, they hadn’t moved the entire time. As he drew closer he saw just how sickly Remus appeared, it made him want to run toward him. “Remus! Is that you?”

Remus waved back eagerly, and once the distance was closed he wore an unhinged smile, “The, one and only, Robro!”

“A-are you okay?”

“Never better!”, Remus’s smile appeared forced, “But yeah, wanted to show off some new friends!”

The person who was still holding Remus’s shoulder smiled at Roman, “I’m sorry I took so long to properly introduce myself. You may call me Cass, you must be Roman! I’ve heard so much about you from My Sign.”

They reached out with a free hand. Roman noticed that it had burns on it and he shook his head vigorously, “Let go of him.”

Remus frowned, his face flashing with fear before that smile was plastered back on.

Cass’s tone became apathetic, “I’m afraid I can’t do that. I’m its Herald and we are bonded by such a great Promise, you see?”

Roman looked more closely at where the two had contact and was immediately revolted. The arm was writhing and incomprehensibly inhuman and actually buried into his brother’s shoulder. Cass smiled as they went toward caressing Remus, more of Cass’s body boring into Remus.

Remus’s manner was delirious, “¿No es maravilloso Cass? ”

Roman saw red and went to try to rip Cass off his brother, but it happened too fast. In an instant, the Insatiable and Remus had merged completely into one another. “Say hello to my Harbingers! Go forth and tear at reality itself!”

From out of the river rose a fleet of Remus’s horrorspawn. Just like Remus, they looked wrong. They looked like they were rotting and blistered and some of the many eyes on them were clouded over. Before Roman could react – they started to dart off in different directions of the park.

That was the rest of the Brood’s cue to step in, before anyone could get hurt. The nearest crowd of guests ran off screaming, Carrie took the opportunity to shoot down one of the spawn, it took a few frantic reloads for it to fall and come apart. It was difficult with how unpredictably it moved and not wanting to hurt any of the guests.

Vic was restless, looking at Logan, “Do you feel that Ellis?”

Logan, nodded, “Unfortunately. It would seem they were here longer than we anticipated.”

Carrie spoke up, “What are you two-?”

The mages shivered moments before a fog rolled in. From the mist, phantoms appeared among the crowd. Some looked confused and benign, but many took more guests for a chase, some even entered the humans around them. Vic was told of one of the things that the Insatiable can do – thinning the veil between ghosts, spirits, and mortals. It could be so thin that those without Sight can see them, too. There was a reason for this to be the chosen day.

Familiar faces manifested before the party. The ghost of Steve gazing upon those who knew him with uncharacteristic resignation. He was somehow readable despite the poorly reconstructed approximation of what his face used to be. A few others had circled Remus, some Roman vaguely recognized, others not. Remus froze at the sight of one of them, as if he remembered something horrific.

Vic was told by Logan that ghosts like these typically weren’t able to speak and were drawn to whatever or whoever anchors them to the Material plane. This was entirely Logan’s wheelhouse and he seemed to remain cool about it all. Logan used some of his own magic to fend off whatever ghosts he could.

Ghosts weren’t the only thing that came out to play. Spirits were something Vic grew a sensitivity toward. Unlike ghosts, they were never human in nature. Manifestations of gluttony bleeding into view from the nearby restaurants. They impelled a few humans to overwhelm said venues to eat and eat and eat. To say nothing of representations for the many other emotions, drives, and concepts the park had distilled over its decades of existence – some had even taken the shape of Disney characters. One of those spirits of gluttony? It looked like Winnie the Pooh, and it seemed to be completely oblivious about its own influence. The sheer bedlam of it all made it hard for him to remain focused on why they were there.

Vic did grasp that Arcana well enough to shield himself against the more aggressive of these spirits. He narrowly avoided a metaphysical volley from a spirit in the shape of Clayton himself, approaching from Tarzan's Treehouse. Vic didn’t have the same command over them, like what Logan was demonstrating with the dead. He was just glad that Clayton's attention was taken by the crowd-swell, its very presence bringing some guests and Character Actors to violence against each other. Really, most of his concerns lied in the fate of his children, as selfish as that sounded. He just needed to stay out of harm's way and conserve energy, to provide healing where necessary.

Something that broke through the attention of the brood was Wayne running towards Remus, shouting, “KENNY!?”

The ghost that gripped Remus with fear slowly and mournfully looked over at Wayne. Kenny had looked like he was dismembered, the pieces floating roughly where they should normally. It looked like something had voraciously gnawed onto those pieces. Roman then recognized that face and name for the ghost – he didn’t have the time to connect more than that. Within that fanny pack, Wayne had somehow smuggled in a pistol.

Roman and Virgil ran after.

Something stopped Wayne’s pursuit cold, another ghost stood between Remus and Wayne. “D-Diane? Is that you? I heard from Ken- are you really-?”

Diane was mangled and parts of her looked like she was being eaten through by a powerful acid. Her face was screwed into a scowl, nodding. Wayne looked like he was going to collapse from grief, before she reached out to him. He reached back, allowing her possession of him. The union marched up and took aim. Diane’s voice came from Wayne with renewed and sober resolve, “You ruined everything! My big day! Our lives! MY life!”

Virgil looked about the area, webbed one of the nearest trash cans, and clipped out, “Oh no you don’t!”

Virgil pulled the bin and swung it into Wayne, just as he was about to squeeze the trigger.

Before the gun flew out of Wayne’s hands, he managed to fire a couple shots. Both missed Remus. One landed into Jim’s shoulder, the other vaguely toward Tom Sawyer’s Island. Jim immediately screamed as he attempted to take cover, despite the threat and pain, he never strayed too far from Remus. The union’s expression only got angrier, wincing and huffing, “Daddy Dearest. I think you had far too much to drink.”

Carrie dispatched another of Remus’s spawn. Wayne, during his attempt at recovery, fumbled in his reach for the trident. Virgil dashed up to Wayne before he could take up the weapon, aiming to neutralize that threat.

Roman approached his brother again. Remus seemed lucid and horrified in that moment, his eyes stuck on Kenny the entire time.

Roman shouted, “Taz, what’s going on!?”

Remus stammered, not registering Roman at all, “C-Cass, why did-?”

Remus doubled over vomiting and what came out was an endless tarry torrent. He heaved and heaved and heaved. It wasn’t natural, Roman dreaded to think what that fiend was doing to his brother. Roman stepped up close, unavoidably stepping in the mess, “Taz, are you still in there?”

Remus gave a few shuddering breaths before erupting into a broken cackle, it made Roman step back.

Not-Remus stood up straight, staring into Roman, “Not for long, morsel.”

Not-Remus charged after Roman with a murderous glare, his eyes holding a searing green glow and his sclera turning black. A glow made brighter against the dusky sky. Roman froze a moment before getting his spawn on the scene and jumping back, assisted by a powerful wing beat. The gust of wind also unsteadied Not-Remus’s pursuit.

Both Carrie and Vic cried out, in between all the threats, “REJOE!”

Roman’s voice trembled, “Remus. Please. Are you-!?”

Before vanishing into the Primordial Dream, Janus hissed out, “Remember. The Plan. Everyone!”

Not-Remus laughed, glancing where Janus once stood, “Running away?”

Roman lunged forward to tackle Remus, “Eyes on me, brother!”

Roman really tried not to injure Remus, while restraining him. Not-Remus cackled, seeming to know that Roman was holding back, they spat more of that tar into Roman’s face. It smelled like rot and Roman tried not to gag, letting go momentarily to wipe it clear. “Don’t you have any more fight in you?”

“If you would just stop fighting dirty-!”

Roman grappled Remus even harder, this time his claws drawing some blood. The back of Roman’s mind raced, hoping this plan was going to work, he just needed to buy everyone time. His dad could heal Remus after it was over, he hoped. He didn’t want to think about failure. He didn’t want to think about killing his own brother.

Wayne was desperately constrained by Virgil’s webs, wheezy screaming and coughing in the process. Vic glanced over and could tell the police chief had definitely broken a rib or few, in the scuffle. The union's gaze glared at Remus first, but darted toward Virgil and Roman, too. “I should have killed that thing when I had the chance!”

Virgil groaned, binding up Wayne tighter, “‘Didn’t even have one in hell, pig.”

Virgil was done with Wayne once he sealed the man’s mouth shut. He then went to help Roman’s horrorspawn and Carrie in destroying more of Remus’s.

Not-Remus kept thrashing and started shrieking in pain and fury against Roman’s hold, Roman grimaced, “I don’t know what this Promise bullshit is and I don’t fucking care!”

As more and more of Remus’s horrorspawn were knocked out, Remus started to look more and more sickly. And his body started to shift. His skin started to look like his Horror, only this wasn’t like normal atavism use. It was visceral and Remus looked like he was in the most pain Roman had ever seen.

Roman’s grip loosened enough for Remus to wriggle out from underneath. Remus stood up shakily and hunched over as his tentacles started coming forth. Roman was dumbstruck, as Remus dived into the nearby water feature.

Roman screamed, “REMUS!”

He was about to follow, but Remus surfaced before he could.

Remus still looked vaguely human. But his form was more twisted and imposing, with features of his own towering Horror looking more corporeal than ever. There were other details that were completely wrong, pieces of marine life that looked as if they were fused to Remus. If the stakes were any smaller, he would imagine Remus quipping about “Dead Man’s Chest” and Davy Jones’s cursed crew.

Barnacles, starfish, blue bottles. Many alien, vibrant and luminescent strands of tissue wrapped around Remus like a creeping vine. Many more of such strands floated freely, threatening to ensnare anything in reach. They were grotesque and beautiful, reminding Roman of those sparkling waterfall fireworks the park would use in their nightly shows. Only the trails hung from the tendrils in a stasis. Rather, it was like a shining beaded curtain, held together with gnarled strands of jellied viscera. A cross between Remus's own tentacles and something almost wing-like.

Roman remembered something either Remus or his dad brought up once…

Vic gasped, “That, that looks like a giant siphonophore! Everyone be careful!”

Vic was divided between trying to pacify the rampant spirits and running to help Remus. Logan stopped him, “Don’t. Janus is working on pulling Cass out of your son’s Lair. Cass appears to be desperate now.”

Virgil looked worried, “This almost looks like…”

Carrie asked, “What?”

“Something that Beasts can’t turn back from. But-”

“Hm?”

“Janus knows this stuff better, they really need to hurry up.”

Roman was getting frustrated, he jumped up from the nearest railing and just out of reach of those tendrils. Roman then burned the nearest appendage with his breath. This earned more wild flailing and inhuman screeching from Not-Remus.

Roman managed to disable a couple more of them, dodging many swipes to grab him. It was like Hercules versus the Hydra, there just seemed to be more around the corner. He was so focused on them that he didn’t expect one of Remus's tentacles managing to grab him by the foot and being yanked down into the water. It happened so fast, he didn’t have the chance to hold his breath.

Roman never wanted to experience what his brother did in his nightmares. Yet here he was, lungs burning for air, thrashing uselessly, a creeping sense of doom coming over him. The sensation worsened as he felt something else grab him and the stabbing, burning sensation spread all over, he realized he could no longer move.

Carrie hurled the magic bag to Logan. She took only her estoc with her as she sprinted and dived in the water without a thought. The Bright Dream mixing with her overwhelming desire to protect Roman in that moment, guided her blade. She sliced through something. She felt more sounds of pain coming from Not-Remus as she tried to scoop Roman up and out of the water.

When they surfaced, Vic immediately went to work resuscitating the unconscious Roman. Vic channeled his magic into counteracting the venom as he helped his son purge the water from his lungs.

Carrie looked back and saw the severed tentacle stub flail and bleed blue. Remus’s breathing was ragged, about to grab at anyone who got too close to the water before his eyes widened, staring at his brother.

Remus clutched himself as he lurched back onto dry land. He wanted to see if he was okay. His form was still twisted and wrong, and his legs felt like noodles, unaware they were still mostly in the form of tentacles. He didn’t get far before more sick erupted from his mouth. He passed out and his body slowly started to shrink aground.

Janus reappeared on the scene, at the foot of Remus. Janus's breathing was ragged, with a few tears and other things amiss in their outfit. They hissed in Remus's direction, bringing attention to it, "You owe me a new sssunhat!"

Janus then took up one of the unresponsive tendrils, wrapping it around their hand and pulled hard. 

More pain shot through Remus as he felt something being ripped out of him. He only had the energy to curl up as felt something loosen its grip around its soul. The pain started to wash away, he wasn’t aware enough to notice his body had slowly started to turn back to normal.

Janus stood there with an enormous, bloated, waterlogged corpse of something not even remotely human. An incomprehensible hodgepodge of rotting sea life parts, and far too many teeth. It reeked strongly of salty sea water, sulfur, and ammonia. It twitched and writhed, as it tried to take in Janus as another host.

Logan fashioned a magically enhanced flamethrower from his last minute additions to the inventory. He immediately blasted the mass that they all knew to be Cass. Cass recoiled from the wave of heat and so did Janus.

Logan then used his magic to command the ghosts to continue tearing apart Cass. Cass’s screams would have been a source of mirth if not for how it persisted in its writhing.

Virgil flinched before cocooning the portions of Cass and tacking them down before they could converge once more. Logan sighed, “Looks like it’s time for Plan B. Carrie? We don’t have much time to pull this off.”

They pulled forth the components to contain Cass, their special enchantments giving off an eerily hungry glow. Reliquaries mostly fashioned out of several gaudy pieces of costume jewelry, alongside that jar of dirt Roman suggested, to Logan’s bafflement at the time.

As Logan and Carrie worked together to imprison Cass piece by piece, the spell Cass had on the park was slowly receding. The Schism. They had to hurry and leave the scene before anyone held any suspicions on what transpired there.

The twins were stabilized, but still lethargic and disoriented according to Vic.

The party split up from there. It was the Espinoza parents and Logan’s job to transport Cass’s remains. None of the Beasts were willing to let that thing into the Primordial Dream as they used that path out of the park – the fastest way to get the twins back to the estate, courtesy of Janus this time.

-

Once they did reconvene, the exhaustion in everyone was evident. For the moment, Carrie and Vic were simply glad to have their children back and together again.

-

@milktea531 @r0sethrills

Feel free to ask to be on a tag list, if you wish!

(I’ll probably tag every other cross-post.)

-

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[lunarliyah]

IC & Childhood Part 1

IC is the opposite sign (sister sign) of your midheaven. Your midheaven sign basically is how you’re viewed in the public eye. So whatever sign its in, is what you portray in public or at your workplace as well. So the opposite of that is what is not seen in the public eye. You’re more inner self and (based on my theory) it has a lot to do with your upbringing. So here are some of my observations on how I’d describe home life/early life based on the IC.

Pisces IC

A curious kid. Always asking questions. Very imaginative. Enjoyed watching movies, going to the movies, having favorite shows, maybe enjoyed things like the circus, the zoo, etc. Parents may have ran with the Santa claws and tooth fairy stories. You may have been lied to a lot as a kid, to say in the most blunt way. But older people may a feed your imagination and let you believe anything. Maybe into dancing as a kid. A very creative childhood, household too. Parents could have been artsy and could have played a lot of music around you. You may have songs that remind you of a specific time. As you get older you have a lot revealed to you. (Thats where the Virgo MC comes in) You could have been spoiled. You could have been even confused a lot as a kid. And quite sensitive to your surroundings. You picked up on your family issues even if they tried to conceal them from you. You knew when something was off. Very high intuitive kid, you only did things if it felt right. Even in school, you could have been a loner until you were around people who made you feel right. Until you were around “your” people. If not you’d rather be alone. You may have not been close with your siblings or really anyone especially family wise. You could have felt like the black sheep. You enjoyed anything that took your mind off of reality. So again, movies, video games, toys,sports even, dancing, music, etc.

Cancer IC

You may have a really big family. Could have a very clingy and overbearing parents or parent. Your siblings could be very protective, if any. You always defend your family. Even if its not in the healthiest way. For example, Your family could be toxic, but you’d still stick beside them/or defend them in some way. You may love things like stuffed animals. You could have had a lot of attention as a kid or non at all. I can see attachment issues. If you couldn’t get attached to family, them you could try to seek out for things to attach to. Or be very dependent on outside things or people. Also very sensitive to surroundings. You definitely could have a favorite family member. That one family member you depend on. Even when you get older, you do tend to go back to your roots (home) a lot. You may care a lot about your background and your lineage. Maybe cooking recipes that you got from your family. Things may have been passed down. Emphasis on family here. You may, as an adult, think about having a large family. That could be pets too. You could have craved being nurtured as a kid. You could still want affection.

Scorpio IC

You may come off as a very calm kid or still to this day (with Taurus as your MC), a calm adult, but deep inside you have very strong and intense emotion. Talking too much about family may be a sensitive topic for you, as you would like to keep your family private. You may have been the kid to actually enjoy and go out their way to be alone in there room. You could have been into science or philosophies. Or even myths. You could have also been very curious and had a feeling of needing to know “why”. You could have done a lot of research, a lot of google searching as a kid. You could have been into taboo topics, topics that other kids aren’t thinking of like again science. When I think of this placement, I think of a kid that aced every science fair assignment lol. Very intelligent and of course intuitive. You were not easily persuaded as a kid. You could almost (could have) seen through adults. You could tell when adults were lying. You could have had possessive parents/authority figures. Or just extremely controlling. They could have been very black and white meaning very “this or that” type of parents. You may have gotten in trouble only being your authority figures rarely allowed you to do anything. You could have been good at hiding things/keeping things a secret from them and vice versa.

Gemini IC

A talkative kid. You could have also asked a lot of questions. You are, til this day, a over-thinker. A restless person, who can’t seem to finish a project. You were down to do a lot as a kid. Being in different clubs and having different interests. You could have been very close with siblings of had friend that felt like your siblings. Your family could have been very inviting to your friends. You could have had a lot of friends. But this placement does remind me of Pisces IC, where a lot of your imagination was feed into. Meaning people could have just told you anything and when you got older, whatever they told your wasn’t the case. Because you are very curious, I could also see someone who does a sh*t ton of research and doesn’t believe what they’re told unless they’ve did their own research or unless it automatically makes sense. A child that was probably a fast learner. You may be a active listener. Or when people told you something you understood the first time,or how to do something you caught on quick.

[love-takes-work]

Steven Universe: End of an Era: Outline & Review

I wrote this review in October but never got around to posting it here

Steven Universe: End of an Era is far more than an art book–it’s also a collection of behind-the-scenes material, stories about the experience of working on the show, planning documents and associated background info, and both older versions of developed concepts AND concepts that never made it into the show. It's a huge fusion of all those elements, and it's definitely an experience!

Some low-quality images are included with my review just to give you an idea of what’s there--it’s not a good substitute for getting your own copy, but here’s a tour!

Like the previous concept art book, Art and Origins, I'll be giving you a description of the structure and overview, while also collecting notable information for fans. Obviously just about everything is "notable" once again, but I'll aim for unique insight or perspective on the main source material, keeping the screaming about everything new to a minimum so you can also enjoy something for yourself if you pick it up. My low-quality photos should prevent people from feeling like I'm reproducing the book in any capacity. Please grab one while you can and have your own experience!

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

OVERVIEW

The book is titled "End of an Era" for a couple reasons--obviously because it is released after the show has wrapped, but also because Gem history recently ended its "Era 2" and began Era 3--an age of prosperity and peace. The author--the person in charge of adapting all of this information into this slick, readable package--is Chris McDonnell, whose work was previously applied on the Art and Origins book.

The foreword is by N.K. Jemisin, a well-known science fiction author who's a huge fan of the show (and wrote a really excellent series that also has a weird geological connection, by the way).

And the cover, like its predecessor, is shiny and decorated with a beach scene featuring minimalistic characters--this time it's the Gems at night in front of the Temple, and on the back cover is a big pink leg ship in a cross-legged pose.

The interior covers are decorated with tons of amazing sketches of Steven and Connie on the front, and a bunch of Gem sketches on the back. Every interior page that most would leave blank is highlighted with some kind of sketch art or character exercise--it's so much to look at, so much to absorb.

The book is dedicated "For Eddie."

Its organization is different from the previous book in that it shares applicable work in chunks associated with groups of episodes rather than pertaining to different aspects of building the show.

FOREWORD

N.K. Jemisin gives us such a great introduction to the book--apparently understanding very well that the audience of this book is full of animation enthusiasts and adult fans more than it is full of kids, and explaining that bewildering journey some adults had from blowing this show off as a silly kid thing to falling in love with it hard and fast.

The important thing, Jemisin says, is being able to trust a storyteller with your heart. And it was clear to her that Rebecca Sugar knew what she was talking about and was saying important things about identity and the radical power that comes with accepting it and demanding respect.

Important also is how we handle heroes and who gets to be one in fantasy. That's part of the reason Steven Universe speaks to so many--because we see ourselves here, and know stories can be about us. Acknowledging the power we all have to MAKE THINGS BETTER with what we fight for is so important--especially if we're going to speaking to the next generation about it.

Highlighting Rose Quartz as a "born leader" who failed and Steven as a relatable scamp who did what she couldn't, Jemisin asserts that we can save the world.

1. END OF AN ERA

We start with an appeal to the audience to think about identity and the formative parts of our childhood--and how different it is if who you are and who you become is restricted, mocked, erased, or Not Allowed. Most people, if not ALL people, can relate to this, but for those of us with a special relationship with Steven Universe because of queer identity, this hits hard.

But it doesn't have to be anything grand to be something we respect--this show's authenticity comes largely from how personal everything is, drawn from real-life experiences and incidental truths from each artist's perspective, leaning hard on childhood and formative experiences.

Rebecca Sugar offers some interview bits to discuss writing philosophy and why "writing female characters" was difficult for a nonbinary person who'd been socialized as a girl and a woman. Rebecca has spoken before about how frustrating it is that marketing for cartoons was SO gendered when she was growing up (and to some extent still is).

The Gems in the story are all "she/her," but on their planet they're defined by their work, not by emotion or relationships (unlike women in our society), so having them be socialized opposite to how she was and be able to claim those emotions through choice and NOT as just an expectation "as women" was revolutionary. Rebecca wants her show to tell all marginalized people that they don't deserve to be in the margins.

Weighing in on other aspects of the show were Ian Jones-Quartey, Joe Johnston, and Miki Brewster. Ian describes feeling like at first doing SU was a thrill ride that meant they'd finally get to do all the cool stuff, but it quickly became a responsibility that he took very seriously--the need to tell a good story now that he'd been given a megaphone.

Promotional art, planning documents, character sketches, and concept art from the lighthearted to the stone serious is included, along with some very cool (sort of famous) timeline charts that track major characters' developments. It's emphasized by Rebecca that the developmental materials ARE NOT CANON (and especially are not MORE canon) compared the final show.

There are concept sketches alongside final art for Aquamarine and Topaz in "Wanted" (with Topaz labeled "Imperial Topaz"), the Zircons in "The Trial," Blue and Yellow Diamond, and the Off Colors (including Pink Lars).

And there's also a spread of "the two sides of Steven's life: Gem Magic and Rock N Roll" featuring Sadie Killer and the Suspects (referred to as "Buck's band")--as well as a cool "Crew Cameos" key and some concepts for short-haired Connie.

And then there's some more "finished" art with stills alongside concepts, including some background art, revision, and really cool "fairytale" art from some of the shadowplay storytelling bits. We get "Lars of the Stars," "Jungle Moon," and "Can't Go Back."

2. THE BEGINNING OF THE END: A SINGLE PALE ROSE

In discussing the huge reveals and Gem mysteries in the show, the pacing is examined, and emphasis is put on the intended "slow burn." One of the most difficult things in the show was to strategize so that every piece that was needed to support another piece in the future was placed properly to seed what it was supposed to.

Some of the ideas they developed were more of a group effort and were fit together collaboratively (like Amethyst's being younger than the other Gems and Jasper being from Earth), while others were intended from the beginning based on Rebecca's vision (the fundamental idea of Pink Diamond's true identity, for instance, as well as Obsidian's design and sword and our Pearl not being Pink's first).

The writing process gets a great deep dive here, including fun tidbits like how the orb in the moon base was inserted by Joe Johnston and they literally had no idea what it was for when they wrote the episode. They repurposed it when they figured out what they needed.

Rebecca credits her detailed timelines for helping keep the order straight, and discusses how other artists are sometimes flabbergasted that a storyboard-driven show can have this much detail and continuity and yet not get wrecked by the free non-scripted boarding process. But Rebecca and the Crew valued that approach and loved the way fresh eyes would handle an idea, making it come back alive, entertaining, vivid.

Several Crew members weigh in on the writing process. Lauren Hecht refers to making lots of incorrect guesses despite being on the inside. Joe Johnston recalled getting briefed on his first day and getting so excited to start working on this massive project.

Miki Brewster remembered being told Rose Quartz is Pink Diamond and being shocked--and also confused about why Ruby and Sapphire would need to be married if they're already basically married. Drew Green talks about being brought in late and getting to watch unaired episodes and a rough of the movie while eating cereal.

Ian Jones-Quartey complains about Pink Diamond's real jester-like form being leaked to the internet through a Hot Topic shirt. Rebecca piggybacks on that and says it was upsetting that the wedding was leaked because of toy fair keychains featuring Ruby and Sapphire in wedding attire. They'd always be worried about leaks, and sometimes Rebecca struggled not to talk about the reality of Pink Diamond before the reveal because she knew it would make so much more sense once the truth was out. And everything associated with Rose makes more sense once you know she's Pink--especially what happened with Bismuth, considering what we know about how Pink Diamond has a habit of treating anyone who no longer serves her interests.

When it comes to visual cues, Rebecca also talks about intentional designs to create a feeling of unity between concepts, like the flower shapes on Pink Diamond's palanquin lining up with the poofs of Steven's hair and the star imagery of the series. Steven Sugar and Mary Nash discuss how the Human Zoo incorporated this imagery, trying to look like Homeworld with a Pink Diamond touch.

Steven Sugar, as a game nerd, liked to throw in video game references from old and modern stuff to feel like he's inserting what he's enjoying and who he is from moment to moment, while Mary Nash, who related to Sadie as a basement-dwelling young person with cult interests, liked to include stuff from MST3K and cult movies. Pearl's hand gestures get a spotlight too--her reflex to cover her mouth when Pink Diamond was being discussed was analyzed here.

A "Top Secret Visual Timeline" from 2016 is included which tells us some Diamond history. It has an earlier version of Pink Pearl's fate and does not include Spinel since the movie hadn't been greenlit. The timeline includes the birth of the Diamonds, the emergence and major story beats for each major character, and some philosophy of the driving force behind each.

We're told that Pink Diamond straightened up, behavior-wise, after she lost her first Pearl, and that Yellow and Blue wanted to give her a planet but White only agreed to it to prove she would fail at managing a colony. Pearl, meanwhile, is so confused to have a Diamond who keeps asking her what she thinks when she doesn't believe she should have opinions.

And when Pink moonlighted as Rose to start conflict, she found herself leading an army to fight Pink's troops--then Yellow's, and eventually Blue's too. Lapis is said to be waiting for the conflict to end on Earth so she can terraform, but she gets trapped instead.

Pearl's love story with Rose is described as "an endless honeymoon" where she's free to love her, while Rose's is more like "I'm now the head of the family and I'm going to give everyone what they never had, so everyone is super special!"

Jasper is described as "adopted" into Yellow's army as the only successful Beta Quartz. And White Diamond knew that Pink Diamond was not dead--she thought she was just running away from home like a brat and would eventually be back.

3. THE HEART OF THE CRYSTAL GEMS

Now we discuss Rose Quartz--the original Pink Diamond. How she was selfish and selfless, never enough and always too much, and how Greg was her first partner who "challenged her" to be an equal. Rebecca describes Rose as being delighted by the idea that both she and Greg reinvented themselves, but when that leads her to want to share her past, Greg isn't interested--he only wants to know who she is now, and doesn't consider the old her to be her.

Rebecca likes Carl Jung's concept of "enantiodromia," which is the idea that extremes lead to their extreme opposite. This is demonstrated in all of the Diamonds. This narrative is interspersed with drawings of Greg and Rose being cute.

But another "heart" of the Crystal Gems is its relationships--particularly, Garnet, the fairy tale romance embodied. More psychological theories are discussed with regard to differentiation in a relationship making the relationship stronger, and how they made sure that happened for Garnet during the appropriate arc. Rebecca has struggled with the idea that she, like Ruby, went straight from a "family" group to a living-with-others situation and never lived by herself. But she also learned that you can in fact develop as a person in the context of a relationship--you don't have to be alone to do it. Ruby learned that too, and chose on her own terms to be with Sapphire.

The wedding made so much sense to Rebecca and the crew that they couldn't imagine a wholesome couple like Ruby and Sapphire not having a wedding episode. They wanted it for years: The wedding concepts always included the tuxedo for Sapphire and the wedding dress for Ruby.

But pushback (often blamed on the conservative standards of the international market) led to negotiations trying to keep Ruby and Sapphire's relationship from being explicit. Rebecca and the Crew were very tired of this double standard, and they were especially irritated by attempts to claim a wedding wouldn't be well received by a core demographic or wouldn't make sense for Steven's character. But other shows had done weddings and Steven had been established to love weddings already.

Rebecca kept adding more elements to the wedding episode to answer all the concerns, but she didn't want to back down from explicit marriage between these characters. They deserved it. And the audience deserved to see this as wholesome, like any other cartoon wedding. Eventually they got their way and were allowed to have the wedding. But the ordered episodes were also coming to a close without promise of more, so Rebecca had to request more episodes to be able to wrap up the storyline!

And of course, there is Steven, the true heart of the team. A very interesting aside discusses Garnet's leadership and how the network pushed the Crewniverse to acknowledge Steven as the leader. This was successfully resisted throughout as well--because Garnet is the leader (unless she's incapacitated, of course). It's fantastic that this concept was preserved because too often a young male chosen one is elevated above people with more experience and knowledge because of that chosen one tradition, so it's really nice to have a show acknowledge that team leadership is more appropriate for an adult.

4. ERA 3

Beginning with a discussion of the Diamonds, this chapter deconstructs the dysfunctional "family" of the Diamonds (who are said to be based on tropes about evil stepmothers and stepsisters), with the thread of dysfunction originating with White Diamond.

Yellow is physical, Blue is emotional, White is judgmental, and Pink is impulsive. Some philosophy on why Pink is naturally manipulative and why she clashes so much with White is offered.

White believes her identity is to be imposed on all because she is the pinnacle of what should be--and therefore, she has the right to make decisions and statements about and on behalf of everyone. But her secret is that she can't do what the others do--act or feel or want. In trying to be everyone, she is no one.

And this becomes very important when she confronts Steven about his identity and turns out to be wrong. The triumph of Steven being totally, fully himself is a beautiful, simple revelation that's described as far more satisfying than the theories about Pink living inside him or Rose returning from his Gem.

Also discussed is Gem architecture. A lot went into this idea, and Steven Sugar weighs in to say he had to think of what it would mean for a world to have buildings but serve no human needs. That's why it's mostly focused on transport and storage. Even the broken planet is meant to indicate a place stripped for its resources, and everything serves a function that is meant to avoid looking like the human equivalents.

And there's another layer, too: a difference between Era 1 and Era 2. Era 2 became more functional to hide Era 1's broken bits, and older Homeworld buildings still have some "ornate and ancient" feel to them. And the fact that props, tools, and even walls and doors could be living was taken from a concept Rebecca thought was horrible from old Busby Berkeley movies, where people were inanimate objects and it was portrayed as lovely. Tom Herpich helped conceptualize these living objects.

Steven dealing with "princess tropes" is discussed here too. The Pebbles (worked on with Pendleton Ward) were sort of his Cinderella's mice, and all the locked-in-a-tower, having supportive tiny friends help you, getting princess clothes made, attending a ball, having to mind your manners stuff was intentionally related to fairy tales.

The point of doing that (besides fun) was to easily invoke the feeling that Steven was being made to be someone he's not, and that he was being treated like THIS is who he really is when it isn't. White Diamond as the "evil stepmother" is discussed with regard to her detailed features and massive scale. They generally didn't put fingernails and eyelashes on characters (especially not to indicate that they were women or girls!), but they decided White would get all of these feminine markers for tradition's sake.

Rebecca also invokes several other references that were included and describes the princess tropes as "chipping away at his integrity" setting him up for the final challenge with White.

There is again tons of concept art: Homeworld architecture, Pebbles, Diamond diagrams, background Jades and Lemon Jade Fusion, Comby, Diamond extraction chambers, and White Diamond.

5. CHANGE YOUR MIND

Now we finally begin to discuss Steven's identity. The "Perfect Steven," discussed in several interviews before this book's release, was an idea back in 2013; the "ultimate Steven," beefed up and shonen-looking, was far from perfect because OUR Steven is perfect, while this alpha hero Steven idea (used in Steven Universe Future) didn't belong being idolized in such a show.

They thought about having Steven fall apart into organic half and Gem half early in the show (during "Giant Woman" after a successful fusion and unfusion, even!), but they didn't try the concept until the last episode. They didn't want the "Pink" Steven to be portrayed as "better" even though he would be more powerful, so they decided he isn't whole without his organic self and he's just as much of a shell as the organic half. They absolutely did not want any ending that required Rose to be inside him or waiting to come back. But the debates were fierce--what DOES it mean to have Rose's Gem?

Ian Jones-Quartey brings in an anecdote about his own family to emphasize some of the immigrant themes that inspired aspects of the show. He had a brother who reinvented himself elsewhere away from family without resolving issues, and all the ramifications of that were explored in the show through Rose Quartz. (He is careful to say he doesn't think his immigrant experience is like being from another planet!) But he did say you can hurt your old family even if they were toxic or didn't know the real you, and you can hurt your new family by hiding your past. The Pizza family of course was also a more direct reference to Ian's Ghanaian family.

In talking about the new Fusions from this episode, Sunstone is largely described by Miki, who also got to board the Sunstone section. Sunstone was described as a cool 1990s character and the evolution just continued into making them a fourth-wall-breaking PSA dispenser. Obsidian is also discussed, with their sword being an early concept. Steven Sugar said they totally knew it would be forged in action. Obsidian being similar to the Temple design is of course another very early detail.

The story of how James Baxter got involved with one of the final scenes (Organic Steven and Pink Steven fusing in front of White Diamond) was shared. His family was fans of the show and Rebecca Sugar took the time to drive to a birthday party for his daughter and give her a drawing. He then owed her a favor, and this was it.

Concept art is again included, this time with sample boards, promo images, a Diamond fight concept, costume design changes for the Gems, new Fusions, the so-called "Mega Diamond" ship conglomerate, some scenes from the White Diamond confrontation, Pink Steven, multiple pages of James Baxter animation, corrupted Gems and their healed selves, and photos from the "Change Your Mind" premiere and some awards. The show has won one design-related Emmy, a Peabody Award, and a GLAAD award.

6. STEVEN UNIVERSE FUTURE

The book doesn't cover the movie because it got its own book, but dives right into Future. Ian Jones-Quartey emphasizes that the movie and Future are separate and different from the original show, which ENDED. After all, after that, Steven has a neck!

Some new names are invoked now: new writers Kate Tsang, Jack Pendarvis, and Taneka Stotts. They were excited to have Steven make HIS OWN mistakes instead of trying to clean up someone else's! Now, instead of doing the usual shonen anime thing and having the final battle be a big physical rumble, Steven has to make peace with himself and take an active role in coping with what all the fighting has done to him and what effect it's had on who he is (and who he wants to be). There is no sudden "I love myself!" answer, either. It's always a process.

Drew Green and Maya Petersen, who came on board as storyboarders officially in Future, also weighed in on writing for a "mature" show, how to deal with Steven being a "moral compass" while being sort of unreliable, and what they learned as Crew that they didn't know as fans. Drew didn't know Garnet never asks questions. Jack didn't realize the show never deviated from Steven's point of view. Taneka was nervous but excited to collaborate. Kate was worried about how established the show was and what to do as a new writer to contribute appropriately.

Maya was on the old Crew but not as a storyboarder, so felt like some of the "old" ideas ended up not being appropriate for the "new" Future in an embarrassing way--and dreaded the idea of dealing with Steven's emotional problems when they were similar to stuff she'd been through. She also was personally behind the idea of Steven wanting to dump his problems by becoming Stevonnie, and got to work with Etienne Guignard on inventing the Pearl creation backstory with Volleyball.

There's some discussion of "depression hobbies," stress, and the show's pacing. And they say Etienne was entertaining at pitches. There's even some discussion of how Greg is taken off a bit of a pedestal because his terrible restrictive life in the suburbs sounded wholesome to Steven and Greg presented it negatively.

And then there is some information about how the Crew felt behind the scenes due to fan reactions and negative press. Ian discusses feeling offended when the Black characters are described as bad examples, as if their cartoonized but realistic-in-context features are automatically caricatures.

Rebecca Sugar felt beaten down by some of these narratives and began to access mental health services, inspiring some of the content of "Mindful Education." A long reflection from Rebecca discusses people's infighting about her show and what she had a responsibility to show or not show in the story. She learned a lot about bullying from Cartoon Network's anti-bullying program and learned that bullies thrive on whatever attention you give them--unless it is made clear to them by a peer group that no one is impressed by their cruel actions. Also, not all negative feedback is bullying. Constructive criticism is different. Self-awareness can help you avoid internalizing what bullies might do or say to you.

Segueing from the discussion of how people are affected by and connect with the show, we then discuss how they chose as a team what should be covered as the show came to a close. They didn't have time to do quite a few stories they wanted time for, like a Rhodonite story, a Lars side story, and Diamond "prehistory" and religion; all of it was put aside for the main arc with Steven.

They thought people would find those stories about Homeworld and Off Color history very interesting, but so much of the show had been about Steven's Gem adventures, so keeping him mostly on Earth seemed appropriate. The acknowledgment of his battle damage, of his trauma, was necessary and real, and helpful in an important way to the core audience.

Oh, and there was some stuff about a cheeseburger tree. Don't ask.

In discussing the "reverse escapism" of the original show (Gem aliens are intrigued by everyday human culture, and realism is necessary), Rebecca says her views have changed on escapism and gets why some people want a soothing feel-better show. She acknowledged also that her own escapist dreams-come-true fulfilled in the show didn't feel like escapism because they were givens to the majority of mainstream culture, but were never guaranteed to marginalized people.

Rebecca ties in her several-times-told story about "Love Like You" and how the middle bit was when she didn't feel she was worth looking up to, and the realizations she had to tie the beginning to the end. Feeling like someone will like you less if they know you more is terrible. So sometimes a show like this can be helpful in telling people that they belong when their fantasies are things like "I want to be loved" and "I want to know I exist."

In Future, Steven has to connect to who he is and love that person--and understand that person enough to finally feel that even if he's not fixing their problems or saving their world right this second, Steven deserves his family's love and support, and they WANT to give it to him.

There's a huge amount of supplemental material in this section so there's no way I could name it all. The charts for Future's timeline are pretty straightforward, though a few episodes like "A Very Special Episode," "Why So Blue," "In Dreams," and "Bismuth Casual" aren't specifically represented and a couple are in a different order ("Prickly Pair" was conceived as happening after "Fragments" and "Homeworld Bound").

Steven feeling like a monster, having intrusive thoughts, having not forgiven the Diamonds, and getting help/moving on--it's all there.

We have keys, color scripts, and boards for the new opening and some various backgrounds and storyboard art from episodes. Model sheets for Shep, Nice Lapis and Mean Lapis, Jasper, Steven Tag Gems, Pink Steven Powers, Monster Steven. New house concepts, Era 3 Homeworld concept art for the Diamond environments, and background art for the Reef.

New Connie and Greg designs. Concepts for Mega Pearl, the Rose Quartzes, Bluebird, and Morganite (who didn't get used). And there are some photos from recording and the conference room. There are even some extras from "Crossover Nexus," the crossover with OK K.O.!--including an unused cut scene that included Ruby and Sapphire fighting. The rest of the book is a bunch of adorable Crewniverse art--extras, blog drawings, promos, and gifts to each other.

NOTABLE

1.

The first timeline chart in the book features a cool sketch of the original Off Colors, which at the time this planning document was drafted included unused Off Colors Flint and Chert.

We knew of their existence already because of an episode of the podcast, but these two unexpectedly appeared as incidental characters in the Steven Universe Future episode "Homeworld Bound," identified only in the credits. Sad to think that instead of banding with the Off Colors, these two were probably shattered for their crime (being Quartzes who don't want to fight) and that's why we see them being repaired in this episode. Later, there's some brainstorming for types of Off Colors and "a Ruby that wants to wear limb enhancers" is mentioned as well.

2. 

It looks like there was also originally more juice to the story of tracking down the events of the war culminating in Pink Diamond's assassination.

One of the timelines talks about Steven thinking it makes sense that Pearl can't talk about her involvement because she might have been a double agent, explaining why Rose Quartz always knew what Pink Diamond was doing. It seems like that bit was supposed to be included in Garnet's version of the story she believed in "Your Mother and Mine." Seems like they originally conceived Garnet's story to inspire the Off Colors to become pirates and freedom fighters, though in the show's canon this storytelling happened after Lars had already reinvented himself the way he did.

Sadie was also supposed to be sending letters to Lars via Steven, which is funny since the "Letters to Lars" episode is just a montage Steven letter. And of course it's specified that Steven was supposed to get Pink Diamond flashbacks by going to the Palace on Homeworld.

3. 

The second chart in the book makes references to Sadie's reinvention of herself as a parallel to Lars, Greg, and Pink Diamond all doing the same thing, and how positive it is to embrace such a thing--a version of yourself that YOU create.

I love that Yellow Diamond's arm ship arm-wrestling the Cluster was always part of the plan.

There's some more explicit direction to have Connie help Steven understand the Diamonds as "strict parents," and a lot more emphasis on everyone realizing Rose had been inspired by THEM rather than them all following her.

White Diamond is presented here as if she thinks of Pink Diamond as a "daughter" (whom she now understands she has "lost"). There are notes on how the Diamonds have a responsibility to their children and should attend to it before just continuing to make more.

4.

One of the concept art images for the Off Colors features Rhodonite crouching by Padparadscha saying "Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you." It's very interesting because she DOES seem to protect Padparadscha in the show, but doesn't seem confident about it in her final version, even though it does seem like she'd be "programmed" to guard aristocratic Gems because of her Ruby and Pearl makeup. Cool.

5.

A "Crew Cameos" spread was included, which is of great interest to some of us who loved seeing the Crew insert themselves into the show. Not every SU Crew person who's been represented in a crowd was there, but this crowd included Amish Kumar, Kat Morris, Amanda Winterstein, Angie Wang, Lamar Abrams, Emily Walus, Mary Nash, Joe Johnston, Christy Cohen, Danny Cragg, Hilary Florido, Danny Hynes, Matt Burnett, Ben Levin, Elle Michalka.

6.

The official national flower of South Korea, Hibiscus syriacus, is the name of Pink Diamond's flower.

7.

One of Steven Sugar's comments about the silhouette difference between humans and Gems points out that humans have ears. This seems to be pretty good confirmation that they are not supposed to have ears, despite that sometimes we'll see ears drawn on them in some frames.

8.

Rose Quartz/Pink Diamond is characterized in this book as "self-hating" in a really interesting way, saying that because she believed she was not capable of compassion, she practically worshiped those who demonstrated that ability and thought they were so much better than her--which is described as "intoxicating" and resulted in others being drawn to her. How interesting is that!

9.

Timelines reveal that early plans for Pink Diamond's first Pearl originally had her getting destroyed by Pink during  a game, and then her destruction was rewritten as a punishment from the Diamonds after Pink Pearl defended Pink Diamond to the other Diamonds. They went back to the idea of her getting hurt by Pink for the final version, though the cracked face and control by White Diamond was not on the agenda until they started writing "Change Your Mind."

10.

The approximate ages of the major characters, based on emergence, are revealed on these timelines. It begins with a cracked-planet-looking graphic depicting four tiny Diamonds emerging at 20,000 years ago. Some suspicious "blacked out" redacting surrounds a long timeline tail that goes back before that, which may mean there are secrets they still don't want to reveal. But the dates go like this:

20,000 years ago: The Diamonds emerge.

11,000 years ago: Pearl is custom-made for Pink Diamond.

8,000 years ago: Sapphire emerges (on Homeworld).

6,000 years ago: Ruby emerges (on a colony).

5,750 years ago: Garnet is formed.

5,600 years ago: Lapis is poofed and put in the mirror.

5,200 years ago: Jasper emerges (on Earth).

5,050 years ago: The Cluster is planted.

5,000 years ago: Amethyst emerges (on Earth).

4,500 years ago: The Crystal Gems found Amethyst.

3,000 years ago: Peridot emerges (on Homeworld).

40 years ago: Pearl found Lapis's mirror at the Galaxy Warp.

And of course we know 14 years ago Steven is born!

11.

Originally the Diamonds were based on a quartet of themes: Love, Fear, Pride, and Sorrow. It got too complicated to keep and it was abandoned, with Pink's identification of "love" being described as "particularly outdated."

12.

Notes on a sketch say that Pearl was inspired to become bold and unashamed because Pink's questions drove her to have opinions, and it's said that Rose "fell in love" with her boldness.

13.

Rebecca tells the story of driving off a ridge and getting stuck in the desert, comparing this to Ruby's tumble during her Wild West adventure and using it as inspiration. She's told this story before but here it is in print. She also included the story about using the flowers from a friend's wedding to put in Ruby's hair.

14.

Rebecca describes having to "fight" notes she was given when it had to do with Ruby and Sapphire's relationship. One she describes as NOT fighting was for a signing card depicting Ruby and Sapphire dancing. It was called "too romantic" and she decided not to worry about it since it wasn't the actual show content.

She was also scolded over her book The Answer because the powers that be expected her to downplay that relationship. She always argued that queer youth deserved these things.

15.

Tom Herpich describes being inspired to name Blue Diamond's comb "Comby" because he was watching the news about Comey getting fired from the FBI. It's also a mineral-related term and I always assumed that reference was intentional, but maybe it's not and this is the only intended significance to Comby's name?

16.

Rainbow Quartz 2.0's design is not discussed, though the other two new Fusions from "Change Your Mind" (Sunstone and Obsidian) were. RQ2 has some sketches included, but no accompanying narrative in the text.

17.

A sheet of corrupted Gems and their healed selves is offered, though it doesn't appear to be final. The obelisk in "Serious Steven" is labeled Albite. The unnamed Worm Monster, Desert Glass, and Watermelon Tourmaline are included. An unnamed birdlike Gem represents the Big Bird monster from "Giant Woman." The crab monster from "Arcade Mania" is labeled Blue Chalcedony. The Tongue Monster is drawn uncorrupted but not named. The Flower Monster from "Back to the Kindergarten" is labeled Grossular Diopside or Titanite. The invisible monster from "Island Adventure" is labeled Moonstone. The Lighthouse Gem is labeled White Topaz. A form for Larimar that was used in "Change Your Mind" but changed in Future is there. The Slinker is listed as Chrysocolla. And the Crab Monster is listed as Aventurine.

On the next page, this is changed to Bixbite (as it was in Steven Universe Future), and we then also have Lace Amethyst, Blue Lace Agate, Crazy Lace Agate (Fusion), Ocean Jasper, the Mother Centipeetle Nephrite (Facet 413 Cabochon 12) and three other Nephrites, Angel Aura Quartz, a hooded Jasper, Zebra Jasper, Biggs Jasper, Watermelon Tourmaline (labeled as Fusion of Gem * Onion--huh?), Snowflake Obsidian, "Little" Larimar, and Orange Spodumene (who was the Worm).

18.

The Rhodonite side story would have been about the love story of a Ruby and a Pearl working for Morganite. Images of Morganite and her servants, unfused, are in the book. We do not get this additional information, but Rebecca said in a panel shortly before the book's release that Rhodonite's story would have been about finding out that she had been Rejuvenated 17 times because her components kept falling in love and needing to be reset.

19.

Referring to the Diamonds on one of the charts, Steven's perspective is "I can't believe I helped these" and then there's a censor bar. Welp.

20.

Some included art by Hilary Florido features Kevin with a souped-up Koala Princess car and another where Kevin is staring at himself in the mirror in front of an altar to himself.

21.

Rebecca's sweater collection is included in the Crew art.

[SU Book and Comic Reviews]

[xmint-conditionx]

☆ flanked ☆ ch2 | knj

(verb) flank -

guard or strengthen (a military force or position) from the side.

attack down or from the sides, or rake with gunfire from the sides.

☆ pairing: soldier!namjoon x widow!reader; namjoon x fem!reader ☆ word count: 3.1K ☆ summary: you’re a recently widowed military spouse who is stationed at camp walker, south korea. you’re dealing with the tragedy of your husband’s recent death, and in the process, you accidentally meet a k-pop idol you’ve had a crush on for years. who knew you’d both be at the same post while he’s doing his compulsory service? who knew he’d be so damn nice? who knew it would be impossible to get him out of your head? ☆ warnings: angst, mentions of death, grieving, lots of fluff in this chapter tbh and you might die because dork namjoon has come to the party ☆ a/n: hey everyone c: sorry this repost is a little late; i've been sick the past two days and holed up in bed for the last one. i'm so excited to release this for you and start on the next chapter.

It is 6:05 in the morning, and you are awake. Not wide awake, but awake. You can’t believe you let Namjoon convince you to get up this early, because frankly, nobody has ever convinced you to get up this early. When he said that you’d have to get there first thing in the morning so you can see everything, you really didn’t think he would mean you’d have to get there at 7 AM. It’s always been your philosophy that it’s wrong to wake up before the sun, and you’re finding that getting out of bed in your pitch black room isn’t easy. You’re gonna have to make sure to clarify everything that man says in the future. Ugh, military men, you think.

You groan, muscles stiff as you finally manage to get yourself out of bed.

Bananas is obviously not getting the memo, the only sign of him being his fluffy tail poking out from under the covers. He’s never been into early mornings either.

Namjoon sent you a text yesterday and told you that the exhibit that he really wants to show you requires tickets. He then told you that because they only sell 100 tickets per day on a first come first serve basis; getting in line any later than 7 AM would surely be entirely too late, apparently. The Daegu Art Museum opens at 10, tickets go on sale at 9:30, yet you need to be in line no later than 7? Sure.

He seemed really excited about the exhibit, though, saying that Yayoi Kusama, whoever that person was, was a genius. So… you couldn’t exactly turn him down. Her works were deep and breathtaking and spoke so much about life, according to Namjoon. He had promised it would be worth it, and you thought about that promise as you groggily did your morning routine. Yeah, you thought, it had better be. If only he hadn’t sent too many pleading-eye emojis.

You grabbed your over the shoulder bag and gave Bananas a good belly rub before heading outside.

Despite being almost non-functional this early in the morning, you beat Namjoon to the museum. Gawking at the massive modern building, you walk up to the front doors, where a decent line has already formed. Okay, maybe he was right.

You find yourself a place at the back of the line and just as you reach in your bag to grab your phone to text him, you see Namjoon walking in your direction, long legs making short work of catching up to you. You catch his eyes lingering on your bare legs as he approaches, and for just a moment, you’re glad you chose to wear this skirt.

“Morning, Namjoon,” you groan, leaning up against the museum’s outer wall. More people start filing in line after you, and you’re thankful Namjoon wasn’t too late. “I guess you were right. Look at all these people.”

“Morning, peach,” he says with another one of his dimpled grins, “Glad it’s warming up out? It’s supposed to hit 20 degrees today.”

“Okay, it is entirely too early for you to be this happy,” you say, voice groggy. Namjoon just shrugs.

“Guess I’m just excited.”

You look around the small crowd that has formed and notice that a lot of the people are sitting up against the wall while they wait. You decide to do the same.

“I am too, trust me,” you say, back resting against the cool stone, “I’m just not usually up this early.”

“I see. Maybe conversation can keep you awake. Are there any other places in Daegu you want to see?” Namjoon inquires.

“Well, there is that aquarium I keep hearing about. One of my coworkers on post says that there are mermaids that do a little performance with the fish.”

“Oh! I know which one you’re talking about! I’ve actually been there a few times. I love it there! Fish are so cool.”

“Before I went into veterinary science,” you say, “I was originally planning on being a marine biologist.”

“You’re a vet? I didn’t know that! No wonder Bananas looks like such a happy pup!”

“Yeah,” you say, letting your head fall back, “he really is. But, I really want to go check it out. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to an aquarium.”

“The mermaid performers swim around with a bunch of stingrays. Stingrays are actually not that dangerous, especially if they have the barbs removed from their tails.”

You feel your eyes growing heavy.

“Wow, I didn’t know that.”

“A lot of people think they’re really dangerous because Steve Irwin died from a sting from a stingray, but his injury was a result of the barb piercing his thoracic wall. Most stingray injuries are actually very mild.”

“That’s interesting,” you say quietly, eyes fluttering closed.

“Some people think that cutting down their barbs is abuse, but it’s like cutting off a fingernail to humans. They don’t feel it at all and it grows back over time.”

“Mhmmmmm,” you say as you feel yourself slipping back into sleep.

“It’s the touch tanks that can be a little problematic,” Namjoon continues, oblivious, “Stingrays have a type of mucus that covers their body that protects them from bacteria. If that gets rubbed off, they become vulnerable. A lot of zoos and aquariums are taking plenty of precautionary measures though, like making sure the guests wash their hands before and after they experience the touch tank. In fact, I think that given the proper precautions, touch tanks…”

______________

The warmth next to you feels like home, and threatens to pull you back to sleep. You feel yourself holding onto something... firm and yet so soft, but it’s comforting, so you tighten your grip and nuzzle further in. You then feel a gentle breeze run across your legs and wonder where your blankets have gone. Bananas has probably hogged them all. You breathe in and smell laundry detergent, a little musk and… men’s deodorant? There’s the quiet chatter of birdsong, and an unmistakable trickle of water, and you instantly remember where you are.

Your eyes snap open to find yourself snuggled up to Namjoon, arms hooked around his bicep and cheek against his shoulder. He seems un-bothered by your lack of respect for his personal space; he doesn’t even look up from his book. Like it’s the most natural thing for you to be attached to him like this. Embarrassed, you quickly distance yourself from him and apologize profusely while he just chuckles a bit. He puts his bookmark in to keep his place and turns towards you as you blink yourself awake, tasting the dryness in your mouth. Oh god, you must have had your mouth open.

“It’s fine, peach. I didn’t even realize you were asleep until you started snoring.”

You gasp. “I did not!”

“Oh, you did,” he says, eyeing you playfully, “It was only a little though. And it was really quiet. Kind of cute, actually.” You play hit him in the arm that you had just been latched on to.

“Hey, don’t be mad at me. I bought your ticket!”

“You what?! What time is it?” you ask, scrambling to look at your phone. It was 5 minutes until open. “Namjoon, why didn’t you wake me up?”

“I was going to, but you were sleeping so hard...”

“Well, at least that means I wasn’t all over you this entire time.”

“Oh, no," he says, "you were.”

You groan. “How did you get up and buy the tickets then without me knowing?”

“A man has to have some secrets, you know. Come on, let’s go look at some art.”

The inside of the Daegu Art Museum is stunning. The lobby is bright and open; the sunlight pours into that first room through the large windows, casting a lovely morning light on all of the bright and cheery visitors. Some of the larger pieces are displayed in this grand lobby, some towering ten of feet above you.

“Namjoon, this is beautiful.”

“Just you wait, Come on, first we’ll do classical, then lunch, then modern art. The best one we’ll save for last.”

Classical art wasn’t your favorite, but Namjoon got absorbed in just about every piece. When he saw one that really grabbed his attention, he would sit there gawking at it, mouth open as he read from the little plaque next to it. The way his eyes filled with wonder and widened with discovery at the newly rotated paintings was absolutely adorable. He almost had this child-like wonder about him, eagerly looking back and forth from the plaque to the painting and back again. You almost enjoyed studying Namjoon instead of the art.

You let him take the lead, showing you some of his favorite pieces as you navigate through the galleries. He is definitely in his element here. After he finishes his embellished tour of the classical works, you both decide it would be a good time to break for lunch. The museum has a little cafe, so Namjoon takes care of waiting for your orders while you are tasked with finding a nice spot to spread your blanket outside on the grounds. You see a spot beneath a tree offering up a little shade, so you spread the blanket over the soft grass and take your place, closing your eyes and breathing in the fresh air. Namjoon soon arrives with your food, and settles down next to you.

Before you start to eat, you remove your cardigan, exposing your chest and arms to the air, hoping to enjoy some of the new warmth in Daegu. You hear Namjoon take a sharp inhale, and thinking something’s wrong, you quickly look over at him. He’s got his eyes trained on you, and he swallows hard before he realizes you’re looking at him. He jerks his gaze away, finds something else to look at and shakes his head, as if to clear it. Was he… checking you out?

“Sorry, I thought I uh…” he trails off, “thought I saw a bug. It was, uh, just a shadow.”

“Uh, thanks for uh, looking out,” you say, before a thought strikes you, “Hey, Namjoon. I brought my painting stuff with me today. I was hoping to paint a little while we eat, is that okay? I don’t want to be bad company.”

He perks up, “Oh, yeah, sure. I can just keep reading my book. Hypervelocity stars aren’t going to learn about themselves!”

You set about getting out your watercolor palette, planning on using some of your bottled water to wet your paints. For some reason, you glance back over at Namjoon. He’s sitting with his back against the tree, legs crossed at the ankles, book in one hand, and bao in the other. His eyebrows are slightly furrowed together in concentration, and he lazily takes a bite, not even looking at the bao bun. You hold back a giggle when you see he got some sauce on his mouth. You can’t help but point it out by getting his attention and tapping your own bottom lip. Namjoon studies you for a minute, and slowly licks his bottom lip, almost too slowly. Before you can register what he had just done, he just smiles at you innocently and goes back to reading his book.

This man is going to kill you, so he might as well be the subject for your art. The way he’s positioned himself is just too adorable to ignore.

After getting the basic shape of his outline done and halfway through the details in his face, he stirs from his place under the tree. You watch him as he places his book down carefully on the blanket and walks toward your back, steps ever so gentle. You turn your head and see a little bird hopping around on the grass, and Namjoon is after it. He breaks off a piece of bread from his second bao and extends it towards the bird, who eyes him suspiciously. To your surprise though, it hops forward and takes the bread, chirping up at Namjoon. He goes to sit cross legged on the ground, but doing so ends up startling the bird, who then flies a short distance away on the lawn. Namjoon sulks and pouts a little before getting up and walking after the bird. This is the craziest thing you have ever seen. You love animals so much that you’ve dedicated your career to helping them stay healthy, but this is on a whole other level.

You go back to refining your art, throwing some color into the sky and on the tree, seeing as your main subject has wandered off.

You’re startled when he comes back from behind you.

“How’s the art coming?” he asks, looking over your shoulder at your book, “Hey! Is that me?!”

“Well, it was going to be until you started playing Snow White.”

“Yeah…” he says, looking down at what’s left of his sandwich, “the little guy ate all my bread.”

You laugh a little at him as he frowns at the char siu pork filling barely being contained by the thinnest bun dough you’ve ever seen. Widening his eyes, he downs the rest of the bao bun in one bite.

“Dind youh whanna fhinish youhr phaintingh?” he says, covering his full mouth as he speaks.

“I can finish it some other time. Let’s go see the modern stuff before I want another nap.”

Stepping into the large room that houses the modern art, you take in a sharp breath with how absolutely full it is. Sculptures, paintings, installations; and in the back of the room is a line leading to a small door. You don’t know where to look first, so thankfully your personal tour guide is there to show you the way.

You’re reading the plaque on a minimalistic piece when Namjoon comes and grabs your wrist, excitedly ushering you to follow him. He leads you to the other side of the room where he stops in front of a section of blank wall, gesturing for you to look at it. You sit there and wonder what in the world he could be talking about when you see it. A piece of bright pink gum is stuck to the pristine white wall.

“This wasn't here last time!” he exclaims in a whisper. “I can’t believe this.”

“Yeah, kinda sucks that someone did that.”

“No, you don’t get it. This is an installation.”

“... are you sure about that?”

“Yeah! Look, it's about how such a simple thing can ruin something so large. Like finding a fly in your chardonnay, or there being a hair in your food, or one small imperfection in a person ruining your whole view of them.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s actual trash, Namjoon.”

“Of course it’s actual trash. I don’t think the artist could have gotten the point across without using actual chewing gum. It says so much. It might also be depicting the actual process of tainting something too! Like, how long did the artist chew the gum before they stuck it there? How much time and effort did it take them to ruin this whole wall with their gum? Where’s the plaque?”

As Namjoon searches the nearby walls for a plaque, a janitor comes by and scrapes off the gum, smiling gently at the both of you. You send Namjoon a pointed look, one that’s screaming “I told you so,” and then you both start laughing, having to hold back most of the sound in the quiet of the viewing space.

“Okay, last but not least. You ready?” The two of you were next in line to enter that small door you had seen at the back of the room when you first entered. The lady taking the tickets had already informed you that you would have five minutes once the door shut. You still had no idea what to expect.

“Yeah, I guess I had better be.” The door opened, letting out the museum goer who had just been in there.

Namjoon leaned up to your ear from behind and gently said, “Close your eyes.”

You were about to protest when he continued speaking, placing his hands on your shoulders, “I’ll walk you in there and tell you when to open. Trust me?”

You answered him by letting your lids drop. You felt him guide you by your shoulders as you walked gently forward and then to the right. You could tell that the floor texture had changed from the concrete you’d been walking on all day to something more plastic. You heard the door softly click shut behind you.

“Open,” he commanded softly, and you complied.

You could not make sense out of what you were seeing. The view went on forever, but you could tell that the actual room was so very small. Directly in front of you and on all sides were mirrors, infinitely reflecting off of themselves into the horizon. You were both completely surrounded by them. Scattered around the part of the room that wasn’t the black platform that you were standing on were delicate fairy lights in a cool white tone. It felt like you were floating in a void, so endless and empty. There were specks of brightness, but they did nothing to change the darkness enveloping you. Though it felt infinite, there was a nagging sense of being trapped. Surrounded on all sides. It was beautiful and terrifying to look at. Consumed by everything and nothing. You forgot Namjoon was there until he spoke quietly against your ear.

“This is what I think grief looks like. If it could take a physical form, this would be it.”

He’s right. He’s so right. You’re being swallowed by emptiness. You both are.

You both stand there in silence for the next few minutes, Namjoon’s warmth radiating onto your back, his hands still on your shoulders. Occasionally, his breath would brush against the nape of your neck.

“You really get it, don’t you?” you ask quietly.

“I can’t say I understand what it’s like to lose a spouse, peach. But I understand grief in my own way. I know this sounds crazy, because I don’t believe in any higher power, but I think we were supposed to meet each other.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean... “ he starts, “I just feel better when I’m around you. I feel like a… better person. You don’t treat me like... “ he stops himself.

“Like what, Namjoon?”

“You don’t treat me like other people do. In a lot of ways. That’s... the easiest way to say it.”

You just nod, wanting to soak up these last few moments in this room with him. In this dark space, it’s not so scary to get close. You allow yourself to lean back into him, and he stiffens up for a moment before circling his arms around you.

“We’re gonna get through all of this together,” he says against your ear, “I promise. Together.”

[phoebehalliwell]

how would you rank the seasons from least to most favourite?

alright okay right off the bat worst season season 7. for starters i think this season has no staying power i mean like since i’ve been running this blog 4 so long now my knowledge of charmed is encyclopedic and insanely vast more than like it ever need be but for the longest time. i could not remember season 7. like wtf even happened there?? evidently leo became human??? cole returned? the avatars??? like all of it was just. it’s not even necessarily forgettable it’s just i straight up could not remember it for the longest time. and i’ve said it before the concept of utopia was way to advanced for a show like charmed to tackle i am not watching charmed for moral philosophy i am watching bc i love these girls ♥ hee hee hoo hoo magic adventure ✨ tho if i am to offer a single comment on utopia: it’s awfully rich for a show to go on about destiny and fate and then take a stand against utopia in the name of free will. but w/e. i don’t like leo in the avatars i don’t like his dynamic with piper in this season i don’t like whatever phoebe’s doing this season there’s like leslie?? maybe there’s someone else? boring & flavorless they should have been setting up her endgame instead of puttering around. and kyle. zoo wee mama. could have been a great antihero. morally gray. duplicitous. self serving. but no. they gave him all those traits and called him hero/love interest. s7 left a lot to be desired out of the characters and their relationships also gave us phat L’s such as the charmed ones are werewolves don’t worry about it and feminism peaked with naked women. shout out to zankou: demon, dilf, dub & the noir episode.

you know what? fuck it i’ll say it second worse season 5 genuinely fuck season five. this is probably a Very Specific beef 2 me But. i hate what they did to the charmed universe. this was the season that marked the transition of charmed from supernatural drama to campy soap which like. i love camp! i do! but fr. fuck this season and what it did to the worldbuilding. the early season have Such A Vibe to them man with warlocks and witches and just a couple niche monsters from assorted lore that the show took and made their own. season five opens with mermaids goes directly into fairytales then gives us superheros whatever the fuck was going on in that mummy episode the sandman leprechauns and nymphs. and i hate it for that. it takes away from this urban fantasy things that go bump in the night what lurks in the shadows of the back alleys of san francisco in favor of the ugliest cinderella dress ever put to television and an onslaught of horrible irish accents for a full episode. other issues with season five: cole’s still here? why? they don’t know and neither will you! we’re not redeeming him! phoebe’s not getting back together with him! yes he died we just refuse to let him go! the cherry on top of course being a cole-centric 100th episode. shout out to. hmm. lemme think about what i actually liked about this season. i like jason dean as a love interest i don’t remember what he did in s5 but i know he was there. the season finale i’ve talked about how stupid & shitty it was but idc i still love that episode and then shout out to bacarra the only original villain this season that was a proper serve. the crone gets second place.

next on this come on we all saw it coming season 8. it’s a bad season! and i get bts there was a whole lot happening budget cuts missing actor etc. but it goes beyond that. it was a bad season. billie and christie were bad. and i’ve said this before but billie in herself is not an inherently bad character. she was just the literal worst for the show. she was a dollar store buffy blonde confident cocky skilled and ready 2 fight evil But. we are not following her like we followed buffy we are following her mentors. it’s like if we had a show called giles that aired for seven seasons And Then buffy showed up. billie was insanely irritating to watch from our perspective and in general wasn’t like. well written. attempts to humanize her / give her more depth often fell flat. and then christy. oh nelly. oh my god. barely a character. not well acted but hey it would have been a miracle if she was. negatives include dumain who was a mess omg bringing back the triad bringing back the source billie & christy obvi and also involving homeland security. which is season 7′s fault which is why it’s the worst. dubs on the other hand include both coop and henry i really liked them the shoehorned love interests weren’t great but i like their characters i though the way the got rid of leo to save on the budget was really creative and gave us a great piper episode and of course the sugary sweet finale i love it i do what can i say.

yet another controversial choice aptly coming in fourth is season 4. i respect what season 4 set out to do. i think it was a good idea. long form narratives, keeping a darker tone, focusing on character-driven drama and growth. too bad it fucking failed miserably at all of this. cole as the source and phoebe as the queen of hell was just so so botched. they had a very unique opportunity following the death of prue to explore these characters and what it means to them to be charmed, to be witches. they saved the world but the cost is insanely high. they’ve lost an older sister. they’ve gained a new sister. how do you even begin to cope with all this? episodes such as hell hath no fury and brain drain fuck so hard because they work with exactly that. had the whole season been like those episode season four would sit at number one with flying colors absolutely no competition. but alas. we can’t have nice things. the show got so bogged down with phoebe & cole, in a way that was just so, so messy. for starters, whether you loved cole or hated him before, we can all agree source!cole sucked. he was such a strong 180 from what we had seen that the show had to make the source some type of possession to justify half the shit they were trying to pull. and then to pit phoebe and paige against one another over a man was just. disgusting. and the ending of course felt rushed because it was! they wrapped up that entire issue in a nice little bow much faster than they reasonably should have been able to. it could have been a great season. it was definitely not. shout out to the seer an iconic mastermind on barbas levels, as previously stated brain drain and hell hath no fury Specific shout out to piper’s scene at prue’s grave shout out to paige as a character i like what they did with her and um. yeah that’s it.

okay we’re exiting the shit tier in favorite of the good tier welcome to the upper half. kicking us off is season 6. season 6 did what season 4 could not in that it gave us a long form plot that still left plenty of room for like. normal demon of the week episodes. i love phoebe early in this season with her faboo haircut her brand new empathy power and her relationship with jason dean. obvious strikes against for whatever the fuck that baby crazy stint was and also the mata hari episode. yikes. i love paige’s hair color in this season nothing paige as a character necessarily stands out to me however i like how they seem to have hit the blend of work-magic with paige where she wants a life and career outside of magic however she still loves the craft and embraces is with an open heart and mind. season six also gives us chris who was a very fun male lead imo we really didn’t have many like him he’s bitchy. he whines and bitches a lot he’s got an agenda he’s a bit secretive but at the end of the day he just wants a family i like him. i like the character growth we see out of piper i like seeing her try to move on from leo i love seeing her get back together with leo i like her dynamic with chris and her fears about motherhood. i also liked richard but that one takes a lot of justification. L’s are witchstock hyde school reunion used karma off the top of my head also the paige/richard/addiction plotline was so tone deaf. also the girls were mean to darryl : ( he deserved so much better. dubs were chris as a character, tbh the episode little monsters, phoebe with empathy specifically saying i love you too to jason i could write a dissertation on that line alone also the courtship of wyatt’s father and i thought the reveals of evil wyatt and chris being piper and leo’s son were both fun and interesting plot twists.

coming in third is actually season 2 a season i really do love it’s just. it lacks structure. imo there is a lot to love about season 2 morality bites and pardon my past are both delightful time travel episodes we get jack sheridan and bane jessup two of my personal favorite prue love interests we get p3 h2o and a great prue plotline regarding the death of patty we get the super cute cupid episode it’s a great. collection of episodes. it’s not a great season. there’s just imo not a strong enough thread connecting the stories together it’s mainly held together by having the same characters in it over and over again i really liked dan personally but like. i knew we were wasting time there. he was just an obstacle. a super cute loving and caring obstacle who’s great with kids but lbr piper and leo were always endgame. wasting our time on dan was stupid. i do love the sister dynamics in season two “gotta hand it to those pesky little demons they sure have brought us closer together” but again. this season could have benefitted from a rex and hannah type or even like a cole or zankou. this season is less of a season and more of just like a handful of episodes, and while there are some fat dubs, there are also some definite swings & misses. shout out to the time travel episodes the prue centric episodes phoebe’s character growth and maturity throughout this season (e.g. her going back to college) and i also think the fashion got a lot more fun this season.

second place i’m saying season one season one was a really strong start and gave us these really compelling characters with interesting relationships between one another But. a lot of it just kinda falls flat. and credit where credit is due it was a brand new show getting its feet under it but the fourth sister feats of clay which prue is it anyway they just simply aren’t dubs imo. also i don’t like that 70′s episode bc again i am an asshole concerned about The Lore i can’t believe one bitch ass warlock caused the Charmed Ones to grow up without powers. it just really bugs me. all in all the plots as a whole like aren’t great imo they’re nothing to write home about (save for from fear to eternity) it’s really the characters that make this season so goddamn good.

first place congratulations to the one the only season three. this is just because it kinda hits all my requirements in that it has some banger one offs (e.g. all halliwell’s eve, the good, the bad, and the cursed) it has an overarching plot at the exact same time as the source becomes more prominent and obvi cole is also there with murderous intent i like the character growth we see especially from prue i like piper and leo finally get married overall i really like the aesthetic of this season that blends a darker urban fantasy tone with still some charmed fashion and whimsy. strikes against tbh phoebe and cole’s relationship i am insanely picky with my enemies to lovers and the do not come remotely close to cutting the mustard in fact they are almost immediately disqualified however from afar i can see and respect The Drama. shout out to recasting victor prue with pistols death as a character and shannen directing episodes

[clowninyourfeed]

tagged by: @zenyye I will put you out of your misery dw tagging: noone because i don't talk to any of my moots lmao

what do you prefer to be called name-wise?

Elaine

when is your birthday?

Dec 29 2000

where do you live?

NYC! I highkey wanna go to those nice small European countries that are beautiful and treat you like an actual human being. Like the one's that are so good that their prisons shut down and the prisoners can study to be carpenters

three things you are doing right now

Trying to get through The Lord of the Rings and Hobbit movies (1:18 minutes in GOd help me), Drawing Minato Namakaze, Professionally Occupying Bed

four fandoms that have piqued your interest?

NCT fandom, John Wick Fandom, Haikyuu Fandom, Marvel Fandom. In other words. Beautiful men have piqued my interest.

how has the pandemic been treating you?

I now have an excuse to be the homebody that I am so that's great. But also talking to yourself for 6 months straight really makes the voices in your head so much louder. School is fked. We're basically teaching ourselves at this point

a song you can’t stop listening to right now?

H.E.R - 2 (If you saw the Snake Eve video you'll know what I mean ;))

school, university, occupation, other?

Junior in college. Majoring in Psychology and minoring in Philosophy and probably Asian Studies.

do you prefer heat or cold?

COLD. How people can actually go outside in the summer and sweat and d r i p I will never know.

name one fact others may not know about you

I am a 400 foot tall purple platypus bear with pink horns and silver wings. You prob wont notice the horns, my hair covers it.

are you shy?

I get agressively offended when people label me that...so yeah it's accurate lmao.

pronouns?

she/her/danger

biggest pet peeves?

Teachers that call on you when your face is going through the stages of grief

People who cannot stand on a fcking line like everyone else

People who talk to you because they're trying to steal your food

When you finish making food and knock it over in one swipe

what is your favourite “dere” type?

Dandere- It makes me feel warm when a person only goes crazy around one person

rate your life from 1-10, 1 being crappy and 10 being the best it could be

4- I am alive and fed and physically okay. Everything else is a flaming pile of garbage.

what’s your main blog

This one ✋

list your side blogs and what they’re used for?

@iandiareisland : it's for my Enhypen memes and rants

is there something people need to know about you before becoming friends?

Plz I am not shy just insecure as long as you spare me attention I am a lively zoo animal and I'm saracastic and annoying but I wont bite all the time I promise.

[babbushka]

Chapter 2/12

Supreme Leader Kylo Ren x Reader 

You do a good job of it, staying out of the way. You’re quiet, you’re unsuspecting, you’re practically invisible; just the way you like it. Until one sunny summer day in 1962, the government base where you work acquires an unusual asset, and everything you know is about to change. 

In the race to save this lonely, desperate, beautiful man, loyalties are shaken on all sides – and the bonds of true love are tested. 

 12.7k ; Warnings: NSFW, mentions of violence, death, blood, mild gore. 

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

“They did what?” Armitage asks, eyebrows raised high as you walk arm in arm down the street to your favorite diner.

Your dreams had been quiet, uneventful during the night. It was almost a disappointment that there was no sign of him, of the figure just beyond the door. You had so been hoping to see him, to get a better glimpse of his face. It was almost a disappointment that there was no dream at all.

Until you remembered that you had been given the day off as a reward for helping in the lab, a reward for keeping your head down and not asking too many questions. And as it was your day off, Armitage had all but demanded that you spend the day together, as was tradition whenever you managed to get a break in your schedule.

So, the light of late morning warms your skin as you count the cracks in the sidewalk, sunglasses that nearly never get any use perched on your nose as you tell your friend of all that happened the day before.

“They kidnapped someone! An actual human person, ‘Tidge!” You’re careful to keep your voice down, careful to not gesture too wildly as to attract attention as you recount the sight of the lab in the state you and Gwen had been given it. “They’re torturing him, there was blood all over the place.”

Armitage isn’t so convinced, not nearly as convinced as you were that something cruel was taking place. He opens the door for you and shakes his head when you look at him expectantly.

“This is the United States government you’re talking about, they would never do something like that.” Armitage says quietly yet firmly, the both of you especially careful now that you were in an enclosed space with other patrons around. “They must have just found him like that.”

You roll your eyes fondly at your friend – the man could be so blind sometimes, patriotism clouding all his judgements. You blame him father for that, but you don’t dare say it out loud.

“No, you don’t understand, I saw him when they first brought him in and he was fine but it was like…” You say instead, trying to make your point and then eventually falling flat. “I don’t know. I don’t know what it was like. They call him the Asset, they want something from him, to use him somehow. It doesn’t feel Kosher.”

Armitage doesn’t have anything to say about that, electing to pick a booth against the window.

You always had a habit of sitting at the same booth every time the two of you went to the diner; it had the most perfect view of the street and Armitage adored people-watching. He liked to comment on the fashions of those who were so unfortunate to pass by his line of vision, making all sorts of scathing remarks on the mixing of patterns and colors.

He had asked you for your opinions on his outfit today, as he tends to do every day when time isn’t of the essence. Always stylish in an understated manner, Armitage was. Even on his day off like this, he was in a suit. You wonder how he does it sometimes, the heat of the Nevada desert beating down on him like this, in his light grey pleated trousers and matching jacket. His vest and tie matched, a grassy green color that complimented his eyes.

You weren’t nearly as concerned, dressed in some light-weight cotton garments in a fashionable cut. You did however opt for a pair of sandals on this excursion out into the daytime world, not having much opportunity to wear them as open-toed shoes were forbidden at work.

The waitress comes over, and she’s a familiar face that you’re eager to see.

“Good morning Professor, (Y/N)! Coffee?” You’ve always liked her, this happy-go-lucky high school girl who will probably take over the diner when she graduates in a year.

You wonder if you were ever so chipper as a junior as you flip through the menu, not having had a chance to spare it a glance yet.

“Yes please, the usual for me and (Y/N) will have the special.” Armitage doesn’t bother looking at her, too occupied with his silent, and sometimes not so silent, judgements of the world outside.

“I don’t like when you order for me, you know that.” You pinch the back of his hand and close the menu.

“Is the special alright?” The waitress asks, and you turn your charms back on her.

“The special’s fine, thank you.” You say, the two of you sharing a smile at the expense of your friend.

When she leaves and comes back with coffee, you and Armitage cheers to a lazy day off, both enjoying the holiday. You doctor it how you like it, and then you too return your gaze out the window while you wait for your food.

It’s so interesting, to see the world during the day.

Sometimes you forget, forget that not everyone has such a bizarre schedule. People are walking their dogs, others are pushing children in strollers. Some are sharing a cigarette by the fire hydrant, and some are reading the newspaper at the bus stop. Cars honk at one another in a friendly and not so friendly manner, and you can’t help but wonder if the man in the tank were free, how he would spend his morning.

You wonder where he comes from, if he would enjoy the summer heat, or if he’s used to a much cooler climate.  

“What does he look like?” Armitage asks, apropos of nothing, as if he reads your mind while he sips his coffee, before clarifying as if you didn’t already know, “The Asset?”

You shrug, annoyed at yourself for not having the chance to get a better look.

“It was hard to tell, he was strapped into a breathing mask – and this awful collar, it looks like he’s in shackles. They’ve got him in this aquarium like he’s some fish.” You try explaining, tapping your finger against the glass of the window in that way that all the zoos tell you not to. “Except it’s not water that’s in the tank, I don’t know, it’s like they poured jell-o all over him, I couldn’t get a good grasp of him.”

“Must be one exotic fish.” Armitage scoffs into his coffee, and you want to have a banter with him but something in your chest aches with the way the man had seemed so sad.

“He looked lonely.” You say, sipping your coffee and watching a group of kids play in the street, their laughs muted through the glass. You wonder if there are people missing him, people looking for him, wherever he comes from.

Armitage knows that tone of your voice, it’s the same one that’s convinced him to rescue small animals or strays before, it’s the reason he’s got an exceptionally spoiled cat.  

“Don’t go falling in love with him,” He warns, pointing his spoon at you aggressively, “They have him for a reason, and if you’re right then it must mean he’s dangerous.”

“I won’t, but I don’t know...” You bat the spoon away, right as the waitress comes back with your breakfast.

“One special and your usual, enjoy.” She says, lightening the mood and changing the atmosphere once again.

This wasn’t the time or place to really have this conversation, you both know. So instead you dig in, enjoying a delicious breakfast at the proper breakfast time, for the first time in…well you don’t know how long.

“I was thinking, maybe we could go to the park.” You suggest, hopeful that he’ll agree. “It’s been a long time since I’ve let the sun properly on my skin.”

Armitage gives you a strange look then, as he cuts into his egg white omelet, and you respond with a look of your own.

“You worry me sometimes, you know?” He says, not really a real question.

“What do you mean?” You frown; Armitage wasn’t really one to worry, not in the typical sense. He worried about the intelligence of his students, the health of his mother, and that was about it.

“People need the sunshine, drives us crazy if we don’t get it – it’s been scientifically proven don’t give me that look.” He cuts himself off when you start to roll your eyes at his spiel, or the beginning of it anyway.

“I’m not going to go crazy, I promise.” You stop him in his tracks, an argument you’ve had too many times with him that you wonder if he’ll ever learn to let go.

From the way his brow is set, you know that he probably won’t.

“Have you ever thought about maybe a different job? You could work with me, at the University.” Armitage doesn’t beat around the bush, “They’re always in need of secretaries, hell, you get a degree and you could teach, god knows you’re smarter than some of the adjuncts there and – ”

“And pull my hair out trying to teach snot-nosed brats who think they know it all because they’ve taken one philosophy course?” You challenge.

Armitage shakes his head and sighs, strikes up a cigarette and lets the smoke waft about, clinging and curling against the sunny window.

“I just don’t know why you’re wasting yourself away at the…airport.” He says carefully, and you bristle at that insinuation.

“I don’t consider it a waste.” Is all you say.

He doesn’t know, he can’t know, why you’re really there. You can’t tell him, because then you’d have to kill him, and you really do value him as a very good friend. You weren’t afforded many friends, and you didn’t want to lose him, so you bring the conversation back to your original question that had gotten so derailed, “Can we go to the park?”

And if Armitage suspects, if he thinks he knows there’s something else going on, he at least has the sense of self-preservation to drop the subject entirely. He eats his omelet and drinks his coffee and smokes his cigarette.

“We can go to the park. I’ll even put the convertible top down, we can drive with the wind in our hair.” He smiles at you, a measured smile, one that just barely reaches his eyes.

You put your hand over his own, a small gesture of appreciation.

“Thank you.” You say sincerely, for his understanding of things known and unknown, and the two of you turn to your breakfasts and continue to judge the town outside.

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

The park is bustling with activity, when Armitage turns the car off in the nearly full lot.

The holiday gave everyone a chance for some much-needed fun, it would seem. There were families and friends of all ages enjoying the summer sun, dressed all in bright vibrant colors and patterns as they ran about. You and Armitage were set up on a large picnic blanket out in the open, not bothering to look for a spot with a shady tree when the whole point was to soak up the rays as much as you could.

Armitage had brought a couple books with him, and was busy skimming through them, marking and highlighting little passages here and there. You can’t help but smile at the titles, each one relating to the relationship between war and cinema in some way, the grandeur of the military as it’s portrayed.

Unsurprising, but still amusing nonetheless.

What’s even more amusing though, is how Armitage seems to be paying very little attention to the books at hand. You know he must see you looking at him, as he looks over the tops of his books at the group of handsome men romping about in shorts too short.

There’s a friendly game of frisbee in action, some yards away from where you’re lounging in the sun and he’s reading. The men must be in their late twenties, possibly college students but maybe not. They’ve got a cooler of glass bottles of some kind, whether it’s beer or colas you’re not sure, but Armitage certainly looks like he could use a drink, with the way he keeps having to swallow.

“Like what you see?” You tease, and he immediately snaps his book closed.

“Shut up.” He hisses, scowling at you.

“You could offer to play, I’m sure they’d be thrilled to have one more in their company.” You disregard his sour mood at being caught, and encourage him to go live a little.

“I don’t know.” Armitage shakes his head, despite already taking off his suit jacket, revealing the blue vest and white shirt underneath as he complains, “I’m old.”

“You’re thirty-five, that’s not old!” You sit up enough to nudge him happily, “And not much older than them, by the looks of it. The worst they can do is say no.”

You stare at one another for a little while, before he relents.

“Alright, alright fuck, fine. I’ll go ask.” He says, getting up and brushing off imaginary dirt from his trousers while he steps out of his shiny dress shoes and socks.

You yourself have removed your sandals, happy to feel the earth under your feet for the short walk that you had taken across the lawns of the park.

“Proud of you! And if they reject you I’ll only tease you a little for it.” You call after him playfully as he jogs lightly over to the group of men, who pause their playing to greet him.

You wait with bated breath as you watch them talking, and break into a big grin when Armitage turns around and gives you a thumbs up with a wide smile – the first time you’ve seen him so openly happy in a while.

Armitage may worry about you all he likes, but you worry about him too. You worry that his only friend is you, worry that he doesn’t have anyone to call his own, aside from the cats he so adores. You worry what would happen to him, if you were to one day leave.

But that’s a train of thought you blink out of your mind. You weren’t planning on going anywhere, and for now, it’s nice to see him enjoying himself, you think, as he is assigned a frisbee team and the game resumes.

You almost feel like a proud mom, convincing him to go socialize like this. But you can only watch him from across the park for so long, so while he runs about chasing a disc of purple plastic with men who laugh with him and cheer him on, you dig into your purse and pull out a notebook.

If anyone were to look inside the notebook, it would appear absolute gibberish to them. Nothing but loops in long succession, possibly the result of someone’s bored imagination, a hand needing to move while the mind wanders.

To those who knew what to look for, they’d be able to see these were notes, extremely specific and thorough, simply recorded in the script of another language.

You hadn’t had a chance yet to record the Asset in the notebook, and you take the opportunity to do so while Armitage is distracted. Your blue fountain pen glides easily over the lined paper as you map out the timeline of the Asset’s arrival, his containment, the team that brought him.

You get lost in the details of it, and soon you find yourself getting lost in the thought of him.

Who was he? Why was he there? How long would he be there? You wonder what the hell the jell-o is and why he needs it, why he’s shackled in the way he is.

He looked handsome, you think, when you had gotten that one glimpse of him. You weren’t sure how handsome someone could be with half their face obstructed by a mask and the rest filtered through thick blue slime, but something told you he was handsome. You don’t include that part in the notes.

You wonder how he had sliced off those fingers – because clearly it had to have been him. Which meant that he must have been removed from the tank for some period of time, enough time to get aggressive. Your heart began to beat quickly at the thought of that, the thought of a display of power. He was large, so large, you could tell from the form of his body in the tank, such a display of aggression must have been remarkable.

 Then – suddenly and out of nowhere, your vision goes black.

You feel like you’re falling for a moment, a split second, darkness all around you.

You try to open your mouth to speak, to scream to yell shout call for help, something, but you find your lips won’t move.

Then it’s not black, not any longer – it’s red, bright vibrant red, crackling energy that’s searing hot, unstable and angry, so angry. The world around you is filled with it, with this flame which burns too strongly, and you wonder if it’s really a flame at all.

You feel nothing but sheer terror, intense pain. It’s so painful that you almost worry you’re having some sort of organ failure, your body collapsing in on itself. Searing hot blinding pain that hisses through you, your stomach boiling.

 But when you blink, you’re just as you were, sitting on the picnic blanket in the park.

Your hands immediately reach to your stomach, looking for an injury, looking for anything, but you are perfectly fine. The pain was only a phantom, a ghost, but whose you aren’t sure.

You’re covered in a cold sweat, and as it dries you shiver, a shaking hand reaching into your picnic basket. What was the time, how long had you been there, at the park? Your sugar must be low, that’s all, that must be the explanation for this dizzying pounding headache you were now saddled with.

The sun suddenly seems too bright, the breeze too windy, the park too loud. You want to go home, want to curl up in your bed and sleep, want to – you don’t know. You don’t know what you want, you don’t know what will fix this. You don’t know why now all of a sudden these dizzy spells are hitting you, especially two days in a row. Maybe you’ll go to the doctor, get yourself checked out.

Maybe not.

You pull out a small paper bag of some citrus fruits, small clementines that were perfectly ripe and juicy. You love the fruit, but you hate peeling it, the chunks of outer rind always coming off in ugly pieces instead of a nice smooth spiral like some larger oranges.

Eating helps, you chew methodically and really savor each segment of the fruit, the juice of it trickling down onto your chin which you wipe away with the back of your hand. You try to calm yourself and watch Armitage play happily with the men, waving to him when he casts a grin over his shoulder to you to show off his catch of the frisbee.

Eventually, you’re fine once again, the sudden blip of the vision no more than a dull throb in the base of your skull, and you lay back down onto the picnic blanket and look up with a sigh. The clouds are fluffy and white, stretching as far as the eye can see across the powder blue sky.

You look for shapes in the clouds, until a flushed face obstructs your vision, a bright eyed and smiling Professor who sits himself back down on the blanket, jostling you slightly.

“Did you win?” You ask, rolling onto your side and regarding his appearance as you prop your head up on your elbow. Somewhere along the way he had taken off his vest and tie, rolled his sleeves up. It was a good look on him, this casual attire.

“No, but that’s alright, I had a lot of fun anyway.” He says, smiling to himself.

You raise an eyebrow and he pulls out a small slip of paper, one with a carefully written phone number across it in slightly smudged ink, that has you gasping and congratulating him for a moment, reaching for the paper with grabby hands to get a better look.

You wonder which of the men gave it to him, which had been so bold. You cast your gaze over to the men who were now packing up their own belongings, having had enough fun for the day. One in particular, a handsome brunette, can’t stop smiling in Armitage’s direction, and joy bubbles up in your chest for your friend.

It was still something to be careful about, you know. You hate it, hate how secretive so many people had to be. You hope that one day, one day soon, people will rise up the same way they are for civil rights, and like racism they combat the homophobia that runs deep through the country.

There was much to be combatted, throughout the country, you think bitterly to yourself for a moment, before turning your attention to your friend once more.

“You must use an absurd amount of gel for your hair to still be that perfect after running around all afternoon.” You tease, pretending to knock on the hard shell of his somehow still immaculate hair.

“I use the exact correct amount.” He waves your hand away with a blush that brings out his freckles, before checking his watch and mulling the time over in his head. “Are you ready to go? You really should get some sleep.”

“You’re right, and there’s some laundry I’ve been meaning to tend to. I hate being a grown-up sometimes. Laundry never fucking ends, does it? Even when I’ve folded and washed all that I’ve got, I still have to wash and fold what I’m wearing.” You complain in agreement, that feeling of wanting to go home returning ten-fold.

“Maybe we should run away to a nudist colony.” Armitage offers, and you laugh as you pack up your things.

“Now there’s an idea.” You say, before linking arms with him and walking back to his car.

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

You had grown to love the apartment, over the years.

When you had first moved in it was an empty barren space, no furniture or decorations to speak of. Boris had been so excited to find an interested renter for the place, that he had given you a reduced price as incentive and you were grateful for that because it had allowed you to put some money towards sprucing up the place.

You remember the early days, back when all you had was a mattress on the floor and a single frying pan to your name, having traveled here with nothing more than the clothes on your back and a briefcase of paperwork.

But now, now that it had been some time, the apartment felt less like an old storage space above a movie theater, and more like a home.

You had completely re-wallpapered the faded and ugly grey drywall, had polished and waxed the hardwood floors. The furniture was exactly to your taste, and it felt lived in, with things all over. Not overly cluttered, not more than you needed, but enough to be a place of comfort, your own little sanctuary.

It's not very big, not the largest but it’s also not the smallest. When you first walk in there’s the living room with the TV you adore set into a big wall-unit covered in trinkets and things that make you smile. To the right is a small closet of your clothing and beyond that is the master bedroom, large enough that it could really be a secondary living room, should you ever want to switch up the layout. On the other side of the living room is the bathroom, fitted with a leaky clawfoot tub that you always swear you’re going to get fixed, and through a door to the left is the kitchen.

You didn’t use your kitchen much, opting to cook your few meals at home in Armitage’s place, as he had a much larger area for dining. You didn’t mind your own small space, but why cramp yourself when your best friend next door had counter-tops for days? In fact, the only times you really are in your kitchen are to brew a pot of coffee on the stove, and to pass through the sliding glass door to the balcony where you spend much of your time catching those last bits of sun.

You almost want to tell him that you get plenty of Vitamin D from your sun naps, but it’s not important. He’s already said goodnight and returned to his own apartment for the rest of the day, as was your usual tradition. Armitage has always been very good about maintaining a strict schedule, leftover from his upbringing you suppose – although it’s something so intrinsically Armitage that you’re sure he’d be a sticker for schedules no matter how he had been raised.

The apartment is buttery gold with late afternoon sun that comes through all the open curtains around the windows, but you can’t stop yourself from yawning. You don’t need to look at the clock to know it must be nearing five o’clock, your body telling you to get some shut eye all on its own. You both know that once two in the morning rolls around, your alarm will go off and he’ll be pissed, and you’ll soothe him with coffee once more, back to the routine you’re used to.

You put on a soft 45 and turn the volume on the record player down low as you fold what’s left of your laundry, a basket or two having been washed a few days before that you never got around to. You hum and dance slightly to it, an old movie soundtrack you adore. You never cared much for films or musicals before moving into this apartment, where it was nearly unavoidable to escape.

But like most other things, you’d been here long enough that between being friends with Armitage, and living in the place you did, you had such an affection for film that now you can’t imagine yourself without it.  

Once the last apron and pair of socks have been folded, you take your notebook out of your purse and walk it to the foyer of the apartment. There underneath the welcome mat, you lift a loose panel of the floorboard, and pull out a tin box.

You place the notebook among the blueprints and maps of your work, photographs and photocopied memos nestling underneath it. You’ll hand all this information over soon, you know. But until then, back under the floorboard the tin box stays, and off to sleep you go.

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

All too soon, you find yourself waiting for the bus once more.

The night is warm, but not so hot that it’s uncomfortable. Night-time in the desert wasn’t so harsh as it was during the day, and could actually get quite chilly on occasion, something that you were very surprised to learn when you first moved to Vegas. You’re in your uniform, belly full of coffee and bags slung on your shoulder, pleasantly watching the night-life around you and waiting for Mr. Henry to arrive.

You don’t have to wait long, the bus rounding the corner and coming to a hissing stop exactly on time.

As per usual, you take your seat and enjoy the emptiness of the bus.

“Missed you last night (Y/N)!” The kind bus driver is happy to see you, and that warms your heart.

“I know I’m sorry, I had an unexpected day off if you can believe.” You say, making his eyebrows shoot up as he pulls away from the stop when it’s clear no other passengers are2 getting on.

“You know I used to think you were a vampire, never seeing you out and about in the daytime and all?” Mr. Henry jokes, glancing at you through the rear-view mirror as he navigates the minor traffic.  

“Vampires don’t exist, Mr. Henry, you know that.” You smile, pillowing your head against the window. You always put down a little cushion of sorts, whether it’s your hat that day or a sweater, or even your bag. You find that if you don’t, your head bounces and rattles against the glass, and it’s not the most pleasant feeling.

“Can’t an old man have a little imagination?” Mr. Henry laughs to himself, a dry chuckle that only makes you want to give him a hug, even more-so when he asks, “How’s that friend of yours, Professor Hux?”

“He’s good! Very excited that the summer session is almost over, the students this time around are giving him some grief.” You’re glad to talk about him, being around Armitage always gave you funny anecdotes whether he knew it or not. “He calls them incompetent and says that all of their IQs put together wouldn’t be enough to register on the scale.”

That brings about an even bigger laugh from the kind driver, one that draws a cough out of him.

“Well not everyone can live above a twenty-four-hour movie theater like him.” He clears his throat and you attempt to bring the mood down to something less rowdy, not wanting your friend to injure himself accidentally.

“No, we certainly are very lucky.” You say, suddenly curious about something. “Where do you live, Mr. Henry?”

“Oh not far, my wife and I have a home in the suburbs just outside of town. She didn’t want to be in the city with all the craziness. I don’t blame her, with some of the things I see on my routes.” He gestures with one hand at a red light, out at the street.

The Vegas Strip was known for being extravagant, showgirls and gambling and far too much alcohol. It was flashy, with its neon lights and pulsing golden bulbs, but it had an underbelly that a good sensible woman like Odette shouldn’t be exposed to.

“I don’t blame her either.” You agree. Sometimes you think about the brawls you pass on the way to the bus exchange, you think about the people passed out drunk or drugged up on the sidewalks or in alleys.

You don’t think about it much now though.

“It’s nice, quiet where we live. Me and her, we were thinkin’ of having ourselves a garden, we’ve got a little piece of the backyard already squared away for it.” Mr. Henry talks in that friendly way of his, and you’re happy to make conversation.

“I’m surprised you can grow anything, with the soil being so sandy like it is here.” You remark honestly.

“There’s lots that you can grow in the desert! Carrots, beets, all sorts of peppers and melons and corn.” Mr. Henry says, and you have a feeling he’d make a magnificent garden, even if by sheer passion alone.

“Maybe I’ll join you, I’ve got a balcony, maybe I’ll get myself a pot of soil and grow some tomatoes. I can trade you for some beets.” You smile at him as he approaches a stop which has quite a few people on it.

“Sounds like a plan to me.” He replies, before the two of you retreat to silence so as to not disturb the many new passengers which board his bus.

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

Running and weaving your way through the crowd at the exchange, you once again narrowly make the departure time of your second bus. Gwen as always holds your seat for you, and as always she snaps at the woman who complains.

In the very back row of the bus, you hug one another in greeting, and you pour her a thermos of coffee which she eagerly chugs. Sometimes you wonder how she can stand to do that, with it still so piping hot as it is, but then again, very little deters Gwen when she wants something.

“What did you do yesterday?” You ask by way of starting the conversation as Gwen shuffles a deck of cards in her lap.

“I slept!” She laughed, as if that were the height of luxury. “God it felt so fucking good to sleep without the alarm clock ringing in my damn ear, let me tell you. What about you? Did you get some sleep?”

“We went to the diner and the park, I took a bit of a nap in the sunshine, but the place was fucking packed with people, seems like everyone had the same idea to go spend the holiday in the fresh air. Armitage even made some new friends.” You say with a smile, and Gwen can only smile back.

“He wasn’t the only one.” She is filled with a nervous sort of excitement, one that you don’t normally get to see on your friend.

“Oh?” You prompt, nosy and curious.

“I went out for a car wash, and wouldn’t you know it but that pretty red head who works in the observation building? She was there too, and we wound up talking for the whole time they were caring for our cars.” Gwen can’t get the smile off her face, one that makes her cheeks pink up as she shuffles and re-shuffles the deck.

“There’s lots of pretty red heads in the observation building. Secretary?” You note, trying to figure out which one she means.

“No, custodial like us.” Gwen corrects, and it clicks in your brain.  

“Oh, Mary.” You nod, knowing exactly which pretty red head has caught Gwen’s eye.

Not a bad choice at all, you think to yourself.

“Yes! Shit it was so awkward, I knew I knew her name and she knew mine but we’ve never actually been introduced and I didn’t want to call her a name that wasn’t actually hers, you know? We both did our best not to embarrass the other – you would have laughed at us you’re so good with names.” Gwen deals the cards and she’s right, you do laugh and tease your friend good-naturedly.

“No I’m not, you’re just really bad.” You nudge her with your elbow, and she swats at your shoulder with a big grin.

 The bus ride was uneventful, and before you knew it, the passengers all trickled out one by one. The bus emptied nicely, steadily, enough that you and Gwen could spread out just a small bit, not so squished against one another.

It’s still dark out when the driver bulls over to the side of the road, so dark and so far away from the city that you can see a thousand stars up there in the night sky. It makes your chest ache, missing the dream that didn’t come once again. You felt like you were on the precipice of something with it, had hoped that maybe while you slept you’d get to walk among those stars.

But it hadn’t come, and you don’t remember if you dreamt or not, so the best you can get is glancing out the window up at the constellations above, as the bus driver clears his throat.

“Identification?” He glances at you, and almost on auto-pilot you hold up your card from the back of the bus.

“Just for you.” Gwen says as she holds her up too.

That earns you a chuckle from the driver, and he pulls back onto the main road.

Sometimes you wonder what would happen, if there were a stowaway. If someone were to just not get off at their stop. He is armed, you know that – everyone in connection to the base’s security was armed. But would this kindly bus driver gun someone down for perhaps falling asleep from the early hour and missing their stop?

You rest your head against the window and look up at the constellations. They seem so bright, though they are so far away. You’ve always had an affinity for space, the final frontier. It’s what made this job so appealing, among other things. You got to learn, learn so much about the great expanse of the universe. Silently observing and taking in the grandeur of the galaxy.

 You’re still thinking about it, about space, when you arrive at the checkpoint, when the security team jokes with you and you pass the clearance test. You’re thinking about it all the way to the locker room, how wonderful it might be to one day get a taste of it, of the cosmos.

Gwen, as usual, brings you back to reality.

“Ooh, we’ve got engineering today.” She flips through the clipboard with eyebrows raised.

“Really? The whole day?” You try and peek over her exceptionally tall frame to look at the paperwork yourself.

“Looks like it yeah. We haven’t been in there for a while, have we?” She frowns.

“Let’s hope it’s not a shitshow, and they’ve not assigned it to us because no one else wants to clean it.” You groan, stowing your things away in the lockers you have side by side.

“You don’t think the engineers will be covered in blood, do you?” Gwen asks, looking genuinely worried by the thought.

“Nah, I think the worst we’ll get is emptying out the ashtrays.” You reassure her, and she cracks a grin as she lights up a cigarette of her own.

 It’s no secret that the engineering labs are the most notorious places for custodial to be assigned, nor is it a secret that no one ever wants to go in there. The people are so highly secretive and protective of the work they do that half the time they bitch and moan that cleaners have to come in at all. But with all their complaining, you’d think that they’d try and do the custodial team a favor by keeping their stations organized and clear.

You’d think.

The first room you and Gwen tackle is the vehicle assembly room, and it’s nearly chaotic in the way that there’s things absolutely everywhere. Things you aren’t by any means allowed to touch. Big pieces of steel and iron waiting to be transformed into you don’t know what. It looks almost like a hangar, some large warehouse where employees are putting together new types of fighter jets.

In fact, for it being an assembly hangar, it looked like the place was swarming with engineers who were currently disassembling a plane. They were quick, efficient, too many men with clipboards watching too many men with saws and screwdrivers rip and hack apart a piece of…

You didn’t actually know, what it was.

“What the hell?” Gwen murmurs to herself as the two of you clean the glass in one of the observation offices on the ground floor of the hangar.

“I’ve never seen anything like that before, that shape.” You agree, spritzing cleaning solution onto the window that overlooks the big warehouse, engineers buzzing like bees.

They’re climbing all over it, this big hulking mass of metal. It has to be a plane, but it’s not one you’ve ever seen before. The body of the ship is a large orb, nearly perfectly circular and made of black metal with dark red accents. There’s a circular window which must serve as the windshield, but the glass has been shattered. Protruding from the sides of the orb are supports which are connected to what appear to be wings.

Except the wings on this plane don’t face sideways like any aircraft you’ve seen before, no, these wings face forward. In fact, they are so long that the extend far beyond the orb itself, and you wonder how that could be aerodynamic.

The plane, or whatever it is, looks like it suffered a massive crash – two of the wings are broken, and the glass of the shield is shattered, the orb dented in some places. Despite its poor condition, you find you can’t help yourself from admiring it, wondering which country could have designed something so unique.

 But there are more pressing matters at hand, more rooms to clean, so the two of you shrug at one another and you move on.

 Another one of these rooms happens to be an engines testing facility, up on the third floor of the hangar. It’s a much smaller space compared to the assembly room, with a lesser surface area to accumulate dust, and yet it seems as though it’s consistently one of the dustiest rooms. You and Gwen take your time going over every counter, every table-top.

No one pays you any mind, thankfully, as you go about your business. Gwen doesn’t seem to be in a very chatty mood today, which you don’t consider to be too out of the ordinary. She is over on the other side of the room, and the lack of her present company allows you a chance to absorb as much as you can of what’s on these tables in front of you.

This engine must have been taken from the plane, it must have been. It’s such a specific shape, circular like the body of the plane had been, that it only makes sense to have been from the fallen piece of machinery. It’s got a silver metal casing which has been broken and removed to expose all sorts of tubing, pipes and wires.

Under the guise of wiping down and sanitizing the sides of the whiteboards which the engineers write on, you read the scrawl that’s been left there, take in how each part has been labeled. You wish you had a camera, wish you had photographic memory, because what you read is fascinating, absolutely fucking fascinating.

It’s a reactor, a plasma propulsion engine – an Ion engine. You had only ever heard rumors of such a means of energy, had actually only ever overheard the rumors. Engines like these were supposed to reach up to speeds of almost ninety-thousand meters per second – completely dwarfing any comprehension of how fast a ship could fly.

Didn’t they say commercial planes only went a little over three-hundred meters per second?

You nearly drop your cleaning rag, nearly drop the bottle of solution at the comparison. If these figures were correct, then that would mean someone out there had begun the work to travel at the speed of light – maybe even faster.

The thought makes you nearly overwhelmed, and you worry for a moment you were going to have another one of those strange spells, but none such thing came.

 Thankfully, Gwen returns to your side soon enough, and you continue to move through the building as the shift goes on. You clean the bathrooms and the kitchen areas, the floors are mopped and the windows and mirrors all polished. You empty trash bin after trash bin – and dozens of ashtrays, some nearly overflowing with a mix of cigarette brands.

You’re grateful that there’s no other monumentally lifechanging material to be confronted with in this moment, and your hands itch to get home so that you can write it all down. They’ll be interested, so interested in this news – because you’re nearly positive it’s not them who made it, they’d be much more panicked if they knew the government had a hold of one of their ships.

Which begs the question, if it’s not the Russians, then whose is it? If the ship was built with an Ion engine, what else could it have possibly held – what weapons was it fitted with?

 Before you know it, you and Gwen are returning to the locker rooms.

Gwen opens her locker and takes exactly ten seconds before she curses and slams the slender door shut.

“Oh, fuck me!” She groans, sitting down on the bench between the aisles of the lockers, peering into her brown paper bag lunch.

“What, what’s wrong?” You’re alarmed, sitting down and trying to see if she’s alright, already wondering how you can help.

“My sandwich accidentally got crushed, juice spilled all over and now everything’s sticky.” She bemoans, pulling out a tuna sandwich that’s now more a mangled mess of bread than anything else.

“Want to split mine? You can have the clementine.” You’re sympathetic to her cause, as the both of your stomachs rumble.

She sighs, gets up and throws the lunch in the garbage bin in the hallway, shuffling her feet in disappointment before huffing and puffing and sitting back down next to you, pillowing her head on your shoulder.

“No thanks, I don’t know how you’re not more concerned with your enamel.” She says, and you quirk an eyebrow at her.

“My what?” You laugh a little at her melodrama.

“You know, your teeth. Acid from things like citrus wears it down, my dentist told me that.” She says, as she lights up a cigarette.

Something about that feels counter-intuitive, but you keep that thought to yourself.

“I’ve been eating a clementine a day every year that I’ve worked here, and my enamel is just fine, so you can tell your dentist that he shouldn’t be scaring nice pretty women.” You pull out the small citrus from your own lunch bag, and offer it to her sincerely.

Though she gives a smile of gratitude, she shakes her head and pushes it back into your own lap. She blows smoke out the cracked window of the locker room, tucked away in your safe little corner. Some people elected to eat lunch outside, there was a small patio area with tables and chairs for the very purpose, since it wasn’t allowed to leave the property and then return if you were still on shift.

Gwen sometimes joked that if she got a taste of the sun for lunch, she’d be hungry for it more and more, so it was better to hide away in the locker room, enjoying the peace and quiet.  

“How has it already been five hours?” She wonders out loud, checking her watch.

You check yours too, and sigh.

“Don’t you think it’s wild that it’s only ten o’clock in the morning?” You muse, your mind wandering back to the day before where you pretended to be a normal person for once. “Some people are just waking up now, others are finishing breakfast-- the milk-man is doing his rounds right now.”

“Oh, shit.” Gwen groans again, and you can’t help but smile.

“What?” You ask, although you already know.

“I forgot to put my bottles on the front step.” Gwen smacks a hand to her forehead, predictable in the way she somehow manages to do this every week.

“Armitage does it for me, the angel. Although don’t ever let him know I called him that.” You wink, and she raises her eyebrow in a manner that has you already bracing for some sort of inane question.

“Do you think the two of you would ever, you know…?” She asks, waggling that brow and making your nose crinkle up.

“No chance in hell.” You say, before your tone softens. That immediate reaction maybe wasn’t the nicest, which wasn’t very fair to him, so you amend, “I love him, but he’s…well. He’s like you.”

“Like me, how?” Gwen frowns, and you look around for a moment to make sure no one was there to overhear.

“Plays for the other team.” You say simply when the coast is proven clear.

“But he was married to a woman!” Gwen’s volume doubles and you wince, “For ten years!”

“Not very happily, clearly.” You shrug, and she stares at you, before staring down at the floor, and then back at you, and then out the window.

“Huh.” Is all she can articulate – before breaking out into a fit of laughter.

“What’s so funny?” You challenge, ready to defend your neighbor, when she shakes her head.

“You’ve got two friends and both of them are gay, what are you a magnet for homosexuals? No wonder you’re still single.” She teases, leaving you to smack at her strong thigh.

“Hey! It’ll happen, I just have to meet the right guy, I’m holding out for him.” You say, peeling apart your clementine and plucking the segments apart, throwing a piece of the poorly ripped rind at her playfully.

Her laughter dies down a bit after a while and she blows more smoke out the window, stubbing the end of the cigarette against the concrete wall.

She sits down and puts her head back on your shoulder, and sighs.

“Just…don’t hold out too long, okay?” She says quietly, her tone having shifted to something far too somber. “I don’t want you blinking your eyes and all of a sudden you’re nearing forty and single, living alone in that apartment.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being forty and single,” You counter, because really, there wasn’t. You knew that in your line of work, finding someone to settle down with would be nearly impossible, and you’ve resigned yourself to that. Still, matchmaking was such a big deal to those in your age group, that the pressure was almost inescapable, so to appease her, you shrug. “But I don’t know, I have a good feeling about it, about meeting Mr. Right.”

“Was it that dream of yours again?” Gwen asks, still soft spoken, her confident personality pared back a tad.

“Mhm, I got closer the last time it happened.” You whisper, heart beginning to beat a little faster at the admittance of, “I saw someone.”

“Really?” Gwen sits up properly, eagerly faces you. “Who was it – someone we know? You know I was reading this thing about how brains aren’t smart enough to come up with a completely new person when you’re dreaming, so it recycles the image of someone you’ve glimpsed before even if you don’t know them personally.”

“He didn’t have a face, it was just the outline of a person.” Your mild disappointment and frustration at the lack of information in your brain makes you quirk your mouth down into a frown, and Gwen nods in understanding.

“Well, when your dream is a little more forthcoming, I better be the first to know.” She says sincerely, and that makes you smile, makes you remember how grateful you are that you have such supportive friends – even for silly things like dreams.

You try offering Gwen the clementine once more, and she smiles and reluctantly accepts a single segment, before fishing out a couple coins from her purse and heading to the vending machine.

She comes back with two sodas, one for each of you, and you cheers the little glass bottles together, back in good spirits once again.

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

As you’re leaving the locker room, ready to embark on your next set of rooms in the engineering building, your boss shows up out of nowhere and stands before you. Mr. Robert is in a much better mood now that he had been the last time you saw him. He was calm and collected, not dripping with sweat and looking like he was about to pass out from worry.

“(Y/N), Gwen, Mr. Tarkin would like to speak with you.” He says, before continuing on down the hallway.

You and Gwen exchange looks, and leave your carts tucked against the wall in a corner so that they’re out of the way, before heading down to the administrative offices.

The offices are probably the closest the base will ever come to being a normal workplace. The entire the third floor of the main building was a large room desks of secretaries and cubicles of pencil-pushers, surrounded by four walls of offices.

It’s almost jarring, hearing the ring of telephones and the clack of typewriters, the bustle of men gossiping by the water cooler, chatter of women recounting their holiday. It was easy to forget that some people had nine-to-fives, even in your own base. Not everyone worked the early morning shift, after-all.

Mr. Tarkin’s office is right next to Mr. Robert’s, so it’s easy enough to find. You’re very impressed with how much hes’ made himself at home, having only been there for two days. Already personal affects decorate the space, desk covered in little practicalities, cabinets with folders and stacks of paperwork securely tucked against the walls.

Behind his desk is a multitude of security screens, all focusing on different areas of the base. You wonder if those had always been there, or if it was something Mr. Tarkin had specifically requested.  

“Hello again ladies.” Speak of the devil, the man himself walks in after you, his attention seemingly needed elsewhere when he had sent the request for you to visit.

“Good morning Mr. Tarkin, how may we help you?” Gwen asks, as he rounds the table and sits down.

He doesn’t offer for you to sit, so you don’t.

“I’ve been informed that it was the two of you who found my fingers.” Mr. Tarkin lifts his hand, which is heavily bandaged with hospital dressings. You’re grateful that it would appear to be completely covered with gauze, not an inch exposed.

“I did, yes.” You confirm, “They were under a cabinet, sir.”

Mr. Tarkin’s expression is unreadable, entirely stoic, composed.

“I cannot thank you enough.” He says, although there’s no hint of gratitude in his tone, “The hospital was able to reattach them, let’s hope it sticks.”

“Yes, sir.” You agree, flexing your own fingers behind your back. You couldn’t imagine having them hacked off and reattached, the whole thing felt very Frankenstein.

“Are you familiar with that particular lab, misses…?” Mr. Tarkin trails off, prompting you to introduce yourselves.

“(Y/L/N) and Psalm.” Gwen says, making Mr. Tarkin’s lip twitch.  

“Psalm?” He repeats, curious.

“Yes sir, it is an unconventional last name, I am aware.” She is ready for a challenge, but one never comes.

“We can’t help our names.” Mr. Tarkin cuts right to the chase, “Are you familiar with science labs, Miss Psalm?”

You and Gwen look at one another, and she looks back at him, meets his steely gaze with one of her own. Gwen had a bad habit of being openly antagonistic towards people – men particularly – who spoke down to her, or assumed her intelligence was lesser because she happened to be a beautiful woman. Too many men though you could either have big tits or a big brain, and Gwen didn’t give a shit how powerful or how high in the command chain someone was, she’d cut them down to size.

“Yes sir, we have the appropriate clearance levels, so we often are assigned to detail and sanitize the many intricate facilities at the base.” She says, voice clipped.  

“I know you have the clearance, I ran a check on the both of you myself.” Mr. Tarkin surprises you both once again by not immediately attempting to explain the type of work that goes on in the labs in a condescending manner. Instead he leans forward in his chair at his desk and regards you both carefully. “When you were cleaning and consequently finding my fingers, did you happen to get a good look at it? The Asset?”

“No sir.” You lie.

It’s not really a lie, not really. You hadn’t gotten as good of a look as you had wanted.

“How long have you and Miss Psalm known one another?” Mr. Tarkin returns his attention to you.

“About ten years now, if memory serves.” You look to your friend, and she nods in confirmation, so you’re more confident when you say, “As long as I’ve been working here.”

“Ten years, that’s mighty impressive.” Mr. Tarkin’s lip twitches again. “I’ve been reading your files. What, if you don’t mind my asking, possesses a pair of beautiful young women like yourselves, to spend the prime of their youth cleaning up other people’s messes?”

And there it was again, that notion of wasting one’s youth away. You grit your teeth but attempt to be polite, attempt to not lunge over the counter and strangle this man. You imagine the way his neck would feel snapped between your hands, wonder what he might look like with that cold mask contorted into one of pain.

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but you get settled and find an environment that gives you what you need, fulfills you in some way, and you stick with it.” Gwen shrugs.

“How does being a custodian fulfill you, Miss (Y/L/N)?” Mr. Tarkin asks you, clearly trying to get a rise out of you.

“I like knowing that without people like me, this place would be a nightmare.” You say truthfully, a sharp gaze of your own cutting into his self-importance while your tone is kept light, unassuming. “Without people like me, people like you might not have had their fingers found.”

Mr. Tarkin regards you for a long while. You are not one to back down, and he seems to be realizing this.

“The Asset, whatever you think it is, it’s not.” Mr. Tarkin says as he stands up, puts his hands on his hips, careful of the bandages.

“We don’t think – ” Gwen starts, but apparently he wasn’t finished.

“When you’re assigned to clean, you clean, and then you get out. Is that clear? The thing we keep in there is an abomination, an aggressive and dangerous creature. I should know.” Mr. Tarkin raises his hand, but you don’t appreciate the way he talks about him, about the man in the tank.

“Is he not human, sir?” You ask.

That seems to be the wrong question.

“You clean, you get out.” He repeats himself once more.

“Yes sir, we understand.” You whisper, casting your eyes down in a faux submission to placate him.

He looks like he wants to say something else, but the red phone on the desk rings, and his attention snaps to that instead.

“You’re dismissed.” He waves you both away, “Close the door on your way out.”

 You do as your told, giving him an overly polite curtsy, partially to be dramatic and sarcastic, before closing the door.

You and Gwen hold your tongues until you make it to the elevators, and you wait for an empty one to come by before getting in, allowing other people ahead of you to pass the time.  

“I don’t like him.” You say, once an empty elevator car appears, and the doors close in front of you, sealing you both away from the office as the feeling of dropping whooshes through your stomach.

“Yeah me fucking neither.” Gwen grumbles, before taking in a deep breath and going, “Hey, I was wondering if I could ask you a question?”

“You just did.” You point out, making her roll her eyes.

“Don’t be difficult.” She scoffs, and your tone softens.

“Go for it.” You encourage her sincerely.

She’s nervous, you can tell by the way she picks at her nicely manicured hands, inspects them thoroughly for imperfections that don’t exist.

“Remember how I was telling you that yesterday I ran into Mary, you know Mary?” She asks, and you smile, deciding not to bring up how yes, you were the one who told Gwen her name earlier that morning.

“I know Mary.” You nod, wondering what all this is about.

“She asked me if I would be interested in spending some time with her, possibly share the second half of the shifts with her from now on.” Gwen admits, looking guilty, guilty for breaking a tradition the two of you have kept for a decade.

“Is she…?” You ask, gesturing at your friend in a manner that insinuates being gay like Gwen.

“I think so.” Gwen nods, speaks carefully, quietly. “And I think I would like her very much, if I got to know her.”

“Then what are you doing hanging around me for?” You smile at her, bump your hip against hers as the elevator doors open on the ground floor, and the two of you return to your carts which thankfully haven’t been touched or moved this entire time. “Go, I can talk to Parker and have lists switched around, if it all works out.”

Gwen pulls you into a tight hug, one that makes you worry for her in the same way that you worry about Armitage.

“I’m not abandoning you, I want you to know that up front. I fully intend to spend the first half of the shifts with you, but maybe after lunch we can go off. Maybe you can meet your Mr. Right that way, without me hanging around.” Gwen tries to justify her desires to herself, but you won’t have any of it.

You support her, wholeheartedly, even if it makes you a little sad. Her friendship means more to you than that, than holding her captive.

“Sounds like a plan Gwen, go get to know Mary.” You hug her back tightly, arms squeezed around this beautiful woman who deserves nothing but the best chances at a life that will make her happy.  

“Thank you, (Y/N).” She whispers, before taking a big breath and pushing her cart away in the opposite direction of where you would both normally walk together.

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

Walking down the long hallway deep in the bowels of the base, you find yourself in front of the lab once more. It’s strange, not having Gwen by your side, strange not having her to comment and complain in that familiar way. But it’s also not together unwelcome. You wonder if maybe, since you’re coming alone, the Asset will be more inclined to show himself.

Just as you’re about to scan your identification card however, the steel doors hiss open and out stumbles a screaming scientist. You aren’t sure which one this is, but he doesn’t make it more than a few steps, before the top half of his torso slides off of the bottom half, a clean slice through his body.

You cover your mouth and nose in shock at the sight, stifling your own gasp, as the man falls to the ground in two pieces. It is quite the scene, and you tuck yourself out of sight behind the large mechanical mechanism which operates the doors as those in the hallway begin to scream and run away.

More scientists rush around the fallen man, panicked and desperately calling for help.

You cannot stop looking at him though, because though he is severed into two, there is no blood. You smell the stench of burnt flesh and it makes you gag, and only then do you realize that whatever has murdered this man has done so in a way where the seams of his body are cauterized shut, sealed on impact.

People flood the hallway, and you make the quick decision in all the commotion, to slip through the steel doors just as they’re beginning to close.

You don’t know what compels you to do so, but you do, bracing yourself against the shut door when it hisses closed behind you.

Unlike the other day, there are no pools of blood sloshing about on the floor. The room looks a disaster, chairs and tables toppled over, papers strewn absolutely all over every surface. You quickly bend down and pick one up, read through it hastily.

Bacta, you read, that’s what this jell-o shit is. It’s not entirely dissimilar to jell-o at all, from the looks of the paperwork.

“Stage four bacta composition,” You speak it aloud so that it better sticks in your brain, “Testing for the aid in regenerative properties of biological tissue.”

They were healing him? Regenerating biological tissue…did that mean they were torturing him to see how fast this shit could fix him back again?

You put the paper down right where you found it, careful not to disturb anything else for the time being, as you approach the tank.

He’s floating there, unconscious. The bacta around him is still, and as a result it’s much more clear than it had been the other day. You figure the more he moves, the more it agitates the gel and makes it more difficult to see. But he is still, once again hooked up to a breathing mask and that collar, as he floats peacefully.

He must be sedated, that’s the only explanation. He had to be the one who had killed the scientist, and he must have been shut down for it. But you place your hands on the glass anyway, leaning in close.

This close, you can see some features of his face, and you decide yes, he must be handsome.

His hair is black and beautiful as it suspends around his face. Of his face you can only see his eyes, see how they are closed against the gel, lashes long and dark as they brush against his cheek. He has a couple beauty marks dotting the exposed skin, one above his eyebrow and one on his cheek. You trace the spots with your finger, dragging it against the tank, entranced.

His body is another marvel altogether, you decide, as your gaze travels downwards. He wears nothing but what looks like a pair of swim trunks, a small sense of modesty. He is exceptionally well built, muscular and strong. His arms and thighs look like he could crush your skull between them, and you smile to yourself at the thought that he probably would, if given the chance.

He’s…he’s just so wide. His stomach does not sport defined abs, but there is clear power in the muscle there, the absolute thickness of him. His shoulders look sturdy enough to carry a carload of people without breaking a sweat.

But the thing that somehow, for some reason breaks your heart, is he is absolutely littered in scars and bruises. Even his face, there is a healed gash peeking out from the mask which you think connects to the one that splits down his neck and onto his shoulder. His stomach looks like bullet-holes which have healed, scattered about and mingling with criss-crossing patterns of weapons designed for torture.

You wonder if he came with those, or if they’d be souvenirs he leaves with. You’re not so sure which is more sad.

You wonder if he will ever leave, if they’ll ever let him.

Your eyes fix themselves on a new wound, one that must have just been inflicted, and watch in awe as the bacta does what it’s designed to do.

You’ve never seen anything like this before, never in all your years at the base. You nearly press yourself to the tank, smudge the glass with your breath as you level your face with his torso. There is a deep wound, one that had carved its way down into the Asset’s bone, and you nearly can’t believe your eyes as you watch it heal.

The bacta penetrates the wound and stitches it closed, almost like magic. It works from the inside out, works to rebuild and grow the tissues in the layers of their importance, until in only a matter of minutes, it is completely smooth, the only sign of any sort of injury being freshly pink skin.

And then, almost as if he knows, as if he can sense you, he raises his hand and presses it against the glass.

You dart to stand up once more, having been crouching in front of his stomach to watch the mesmerizing process of the bacta healing. His eyes are still closed, and he doesn’t move aside from his hand, and you wonder if it hurts, if it’s painful to regrow tissue that quickly.

Outside the door you hear talking, footsteps. And though they don’t stop in front of the lab, it’s a reminder that you’re not technically supposed to be here now, you’re not technically assigned to clean in this moment.

“I have to go.” You tell him, even though he can’t hear you – both because he’s asleep, and because he’s behind bulletproof glass. “I have to go but I’ll come back, okay? Tomorrow I’ll come back.”

You collect yourself and leave his side, leave the tank. You try your best not to step on anything, not to disturb any of the toppled furniture, not to make a sound. It aches you to leave him, but you know that he doesn’t even know you’re there to begin with.

You scan the identification card and wait for the blast doors to open, and without a look back, you leave.

You don’t see it, but his hand tenses against the glass, a silent plea for you to stay.

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

Once back at home, you make a beeline for the bathroom. There’s so much to process from the day, so much from the engine rooms, from the paperwork and the white boards and and and. There’s so much change all at once, and you’re still a little sad at the change in your routine, a routine which you held so dearly, now that Gwen has met someone new.

You drop your bags in the living room, put your shoes in their cubby on your way to the small bathroom where you plug the drain and turn on the leaky faucet.

You stare at yourself in the mirror, really stare at your face. You looked like you could use some care, and that was exactly what you intended to provide for yourself, care where no one else could. Armitage could have that handsome brunette, and Gwen could have the kind Mary, and you could have yourself, there was nothing wrong with that.

With the tub filled, you shut off all the lights, encased in darkness. Carefully, you shed your clothes, letting them pool on the floor at your feet, before taking a few steps into the tub and situating yourself in the nearly too-hot water. You close your eyes even though you don’t need to, you don’t, not with the lights off, every sunbeam sealed away.

It’s a beautiful familiarity, floating there in the dark.

It feels like you’re supposed to be there, like this is the world you belong in. Not the desert, not America, not planet Earth. In your mind’s eye, you can see the stars twinkling at you, a galaxy laid before you ready for the taking.

It pulls you, draws you in, and before you can even decide upon touching yourself, your hands slide down your body, smoothing over every curve and contour in the water. You can’t stop a smile from teasing the corners of your mouth as your body responds so quickly to your intentions.

You hadn’t had a chance to do this in a while, and the stress of the day melts away under your fingers as your legs part easily. You fit perfectly in this tub, perfectly enough that you can bend your leg in a manner that has your hips open without having to stick your foot out of the water. The shock of the air conditioning would be too jarring, you think, as you let yourself get wrapped up in it all.

You feel weightless in the bathtub, absolutely weightless, and you wonder if this is how the cosmonauts must feel, bouncing around in a vacuum of time and space.

You moan softly, as your fingers work inside of your body, sliding in and out of your pussy with care. You’re unhurried, in no rush to get yourself off. You want to savor this, savor the velvety feeling of your own pleasure. Your other hand trails back up your stomach, and you cup a breast in your palm, giving it a squeeze that has you moaning a little louder, your fingers teasing at your nipple and clit at the same time.

Your breath comes a little faster as you stroke your walls, finding a rhythm that has your hips lifting into your hand, has your thighs trembling. Everything feels a million miles away, everything aside from the curling heat that builds in the pit of your stomach, that blooms through you.

You bite at your lip, your cheeks, groans and moans and pants and gasps filling the vast expanse of inky blackness all around you.

You grin, because though you are not asleep, the familiar glow of red light behind your eyelids beckons you, and your pussy throbs for it. You can’t suppress a moan, so pleased, that the dream is returning to you, that familiar welcoming light that you want so badly to walk towards.

It’s just out of reach, and you cling to it, cling to the vision of it.

In your mind, ribbons of red silk wind around your hands once more, but this time, they don’t pull you forward over a threshold into the unknown. No, instead they focus their attention on your body, tugging your hands back down to pleasure yourself, seemingly having stopped to revel in the joy of the dream returning to you once more.

You are eager to get yourself off, an orgasm would make this the most perfect way to unwind. You pinch and roll gently at your clit and your chest presses out of the water as you moan, nipples stiff and desperate for some friction.

Before you can tweak your own nipple, that invisible force caresses your flesh, sends shudders down your spine as your fingers rub and circle your pussy. You lick your lips and give yourself over to the feeling of the hand on your body. It is so confident in the way it touches you that you know it can’t be real, can’t be more than your own imagination.

When you do come, it’s such a slow build that it washes over you, peaceful and calm. It, much like the darkness in your mind, the darkness which once more begs for you to join, envelops you completely, from the top of your head all the way down to your toes which curl against the porcelain.

Your body relaxes completely in the water, water which has now began to run cool. You’re sweating, whether from the steam of the room or the orgasm you gave yourself, you’re not sure. You don’t care, you’ve got no one to impress in that moment, no one to look good for.

You ride out the bliss for as long as you can, before the reality of the world comes creeping in and your exhaustion from the day settles into your bones. You have to get out of the tub before you fall asleep there, you know. So, carefully, you open your eyes to the dark of the bathroom and unplug the drain, turn on the shower to wash and rinse off.

 Once you’ve crawled into your bed and have the sleep-mask securely over your eyes to block out the setting sun, you fall almost immediately asleep.

 The dream is different this time. Very much the same, but different.

You are walking through the stars once again, they twinkle at you, greeting you happily, as if they are just as glad to see you as you are them. You approach the edge of the universe without a hint of fear, but this time, this time there is no man on the other side. No figure, no ribbons of smoke to reach out for, no figure to greet.

Instead, there are the jumbled sounds of what you recognize as your voice, echoing words that you spoke that day.

I’ll come back…….. I’ll come back………… I’ll come back……….

Seemingly on a loop, the words come from all sides, above and below. They wrap themselves around you, but they are distorted, distorted from a lack of understanding, confusion. You don’t know how to explain it, how the feeling of your words is confused, but it’s almost as if the darkness doesn’t know what that means.

You think of him, of the man whom you gave these words.

You wonder if he had heard them, or if he had been dreaming too. You wonder what he dreams about, wonder what plagues his own mind. You wonder what his name is, what he sounds like, what jokes he likes to tell.

“I’ll come back,” You agree into the dark, promising the world around you, and everything it holds.

And you can feel the world thrumming, can feel it singing in your bones, echoing your words back to you with so much joy that you almost miss a face, half hidden behind a breathing mask, floating some million miles away.

Almost.

You smile at him, at the face which your brain has assigned the figure beyond the red veil, and though his mouth is hidden by the mask, you can tell.

You can tell he’s smiling back.

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

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