#the level of history and thought just embedded in everything

[heroes-fading]

finished andor last night and just sat in my feelings. nothing star wars will ever be this good again. the level of attention to detail and care that went into every aspect of the show is just...no one will ever do it like this again

[only-lonely-stars]

you should know I'm a liar (chapter 1 - crossroads)

[chapter 1 - you are here!] // [chapter 2] - (FFN) (AO3)

Summary:

After the Merge, Lloyd is alone. Ninjago has moved on, and it doesn't need the Ninja anymore. As he's slowly rotting away, Lloyd meets someone he has a bit too much history with: someone who owes him more than a couple answers.

Co-authored by @dragon-gem!

Majorly inspired by this beautiful piece of artwork, drawn by @diamonddogs-terrarium! It's embedded in the text below.

I’m the only one left.

The rooftops weren’t as distracting as Lloyd had hoped. Down at street level, the Crossroads were a barrage of color and noise. Sixteen realms and countless cultures had moved into Ninjago City, making it their own.

Lloyd, a remnant of the old Ninjago, was left behind like garbage.

Memories of the city he loved grated against Lloyd’s heart, in places that were still raw from the last time he’d remembered–

–the last time he’d bled.

Don’t think about it. Just go home.

The way down from this roof, the peak of the Crossroads’ highest building, required a challenging jump to the next building. The pagoda-styled roofs provided a decent footing, but still it took him a moment to calculate just how hard to push himself.

Just before the jump, he reached for his mask, and found nothing.

I really need to get a new suit, he thought with some frustration. This is getting annoying.

He leaped.

Seconds later, he rolled to a stop on the lower roof, and from there, latched onto a water spout. He rode it down the wall, maneuvering his body weight to avoid the clamps that held it to the brick, and was on the dirt street below in moments.

The Crossroads turned a blind eye to him, just as it needed to. A ninja couldn’t always be seen. He needed secrecy, especially because he worked alone–

Lloyd shook his head, trying to banish the miserable thoughts that followed him. Why can’t I focus today? I sound like a supervillain, monologuing everything. Nobody needs that.

Besides… the Monastery was empty. He could cry about his terrible fate as the fated Green Ninja in privacy. Nobody had to know what he did there.

Nobody saw that every night, when he sat before his uncle and father’s pictures in the courtyard, he cried.

His family, his world, the life he was supposed to have. All stolen, according to some fate.

I didn’t ask for this.

He let himself focus on the hustle and bustle of the Crossroads, the comforting weight of his well-worn sword on his back, the sound of crowds, the crashing noises–

What was that?

The sound repeated, and Lloyd turned, hearing it come from down the street. It sounded close, and worse, someone was groaning.

He ran, turning the corner to see a pile of rubbish spread across the street. The majority was a rather tall pile, pinning down a prone figure. A few passersby were approaching the figure, pulling off garbage to let the person stand.

Lloyd watched, not sure what to do.

After a few minutes of garbage removal, a Mucoid stepped forward from the crowd and offered the unfortunate person a hand up. The figure stood– a woman, based on height and frame– and nodded appreciatively.

Lloyd was just about to turn and leave when the woman turned her head.

Green eyes, tinged with pink, watched him.

He watched, too, in mute fascination and horror.

The woman pushed back her hood. White hair came spilling out, now cut to only brush her shoulders.

Still, she didn’t look away, and Lloyd reached for his sword out of habit.

Harumi, the Quiet One, the Jade Princess, his arch nemesis… shook her head.

He narrowed his eyes. “Harumi!”

She flinched as a few pairs of eyes turned toward him. He ignored them, stepping close enough to speak with her. “Please. Not here.”

“Why not?”

Harumi glanced around. “There’s too many people around.”

Lloyd’s skin prickled, fear and anticipation warring in him. She was still the same person who had lied to him, kidnapped him, caged him, tried to kill him. Some people never changed. “I don’t think so. Why are you here? To kill me?”

“No!” She took a step back, looking genuinely offended. “Geez, Lloyd. You have a one-track mind.”

“Well excuse me for wanting to get to the truth. What do you want?” His voice cracked on the last word, betraying its disuse from too much time living alone.

She noticed, and smiled weakly. “Can’t a girl just go about her day in peace? I just got squished by a pile of trash. It’s not been a good day already.”

Imagine how I feel, he thought, but didn’t say. “And what exactly do you do in a ‘peaceful’ day?”

“What is this, an interrogation?”

“If it needs to be.”

She scoffed, and with a roll of her eyes that he’d all but memorized, she stepped past him and began walking down the road. “Fine. I don’t have to stay here and let you insult me.”

“Hey!” He wheeled on her, drawing his sword. “Stop!”

“Or what? You’ll cut me down where I stand?”

“If it comes to that.”

She waved a nonchalant hand. “Please, Lloyd. Do you think I’m really going to let you do that? I can always take you in a fight.”

“Hand-to-hand versus a sword? I find that hard to believe.”

Harumi smirked, and Lloyd felt like a spider had crawled up his spine and settled right on his neck– right where it could bite and bleed him dry. “As if I ever go unarmed. You’re as foolish as ever.”

Lloyd felt his pulse pounding at his temples. “Well– well I’m not letting you go.”

“Oh, no! The Green Ninja isn’t letting me go.” She pouted. “I’ll just have to do whatever he tells me.”

Unkind memories sprang up, of time on a boat and an almost-kiss that he hadn’t quite expected. They made Lloyd white-knuckle his sword grip, all his muscles tensed for a fight. “Explain yourself. Why are you in the Crossroads? Why now?”

“Maybe I’ve been here this whole time.”

“Then why show up now?”

“See my previous comment about having a pile of garbage dropped on me. Seriously, Lloyd. You’re not stupid.” She paused. “In fact, you’re supposed to be the dead one. Why are you questioning me? I have every right–”

“You have the right to remain silent,” Lloyd cut in, irritated by her non-answers.

“Did you take a job as a cop?”

“...No.”

“Then don’t treat me like I’m under arrest.” She rolled her eyes again. “Look. Why don’t we find somewhere to just talk this all out. If it makes you feel better, I can swear on my dead parents that I have zero evil plans right now.”

Lloyd was about to yell at her, but he stopped himself. There was something about her frustratingly casual demeanor that didn’t quite look like when she was tricking him– any of several times. “...Swear it.”

She crossed her heart. “On the lives of all of my dead parents, I swear.”

He watched her closely. Show me a tell. Give me a reason to beat you into the dirt.

She met his gaze with an even stare.

All he got were those green eyes, still with pink flashes now and again. A poker face trained by years in the Imperial court, keeping secrets and telling lies like a second language.

She’s telling the truth this time.

He felt sick to his stomach, but sheathed his sword. “Fine. Say I believe you,” he bluffed. “Come back to the Monastery, and we can talk.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Seriously? You want me in your home?”

“Where I can keep an eye on you,” he corrected, not sure if either statement was more true than the other. “I’ll sweeten the deal, even. We can have an even fight and work out some of these old grudges.”

Harumi laughed, throwing her head back. “You want a fight? Haven’t I almost killed you enough times?”

He glared at her again. “With staves. I’m a ninja. We value the sanctity of life.”

Harumi, for her part, listened to his correction with only a trace of a smug smile. “...Don’t you mean ‘staffs?’”

“No, I meant staves,” he snapped. “Who’s the trained ninja here?!”

She shook her head in dismay. “Clearly not you, or you’d be harder to rile up.”

“I will drag you back to whatever prison replaced Kryptarium, or so help me–”

“Fine.” She interrupted him, and offered a hand to shake. “If you want to work our your repressed emotions by letting me throw you around, then fine. I’d love another chance to show you who’s the boss here.”

Lloyd felt himself flushing, but he took her hand and shook it with as much strength as possible. She winced at his grip, which made him smile. “It would be nice to show you just how wrong you are, actually.”

“Fine. Let’s get on with it.”

“Fine.”

“Fine,” she snapped, always having to have the last word.

Lloyd turned on his heel, heading in the direction of the Monastery, and listened carefully to the footsteps that followed him through the crowd.

If fate wants to punish me, I think I just asked for it.

-------

In a parody of everything normal in Lloyd’s life, he walked the thousand steps to the Monastery of Spinjitzu with Harumi at his heels.

The Merge had made everything discordant, but nothing was more grating than her constant talking, boring into his brain through his ears.

“How is it, being dead? Are you liking being ignored?” She sounded flippant, but the words cut deep, making Lloyd step a little more firmly as they rose toward the not-so-ancient building. “I didn’t like it very much, you understand. Nobody to talk to gets quite boring.”

Lloyd balled his hands into fists. “I liked it, actually. Nobody to talk to leaves plenty of time for meditating.”

“Meditating? What are you, a guru?”

“I’m a ninja master. Meditating is an important part of the job.”

“Please,” she drawled. “You’re just mulling over all your past mistakes, like letting me get squished by a skyscraper.”

“I told you already, that’s not true.”

“And I still don’t believe you.”

Lloyd stopped walking and turned on her. Her expression was smug, a smile pasted across her pale cheeks. “Harumi. For the last time, I didn’t let that happen to you! The Overlord may have revived you before I got there, but I was there.”

She paused, obviously considering her next insult. “You could have been more timely about it.”

“I was a fugitive!”

“I was dead!”

“Gah! You are impossible!” Lloyd rolled his eyes. “Just shut up, we’re almost to the top.”

Harumi snickered. “Make me.”

Instantly he tensed. The look on her face was oddly mischievous, and it sent shivers up and down his spine– a sensation that wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“No.”

“Really?” She clasped her hands behind her back, fluttering her eyelashes in a girlish manner. “That’s too bad. Seems like you’re stuck with my chatter.”

Lloyd opened his mouth to retort.

You’re only giving her more ammunition. Quit digging a deeper hole for yourself, Lloyd Garmadon.

He shut his mouth, turned his back, and started up the stairs again.

She followed, walking at his side with only an inch of air between them. Every few steps, her knuckles brushed against his.

He pulled his hand back and veered to the side, and then a few steps later, it happened again.

Ignore it, Lloyd. You’re almost home, you can beat her senseless there.

The thought was not helpful, and neither was the one it came with.

This is too much like the first time I met her.

Harumi kept talking, but this time she didn’t demand any replies. Instead, she commented on the Merged Lands, with their nonsensical combination. In the time since the Merge, he’d noticed strange combinations, and she spoke aloud the things he hadn’t mentioned to anyone.

Mountains giving way to oceans of deep purple waters that were safe to drink.

Petrified forests that only reached up to the knee.

She told him stories. Last year, she got caught in a spring snowstorm, and she was trapped in the home of friendly strangers for a week. They weren’t from Ninjago, so she’d been welcomed.

(It wasn’t worth asking if they were still alive.)

She walked the bank of a river which split two realms, and helped the locals build a retaining wall along it. They were using the water to irrigate their fields, and had cooked for her as long as she kept working with them.

(Manual labor? Hard to believe, but…)

Worst of all, in the middle of the Wyldness, she ran out of hair products. As it turned out, the pre-industrial apocalypse was rather unwelcoming.

(He’d had to snort at that one, and her smile in return was unsettling.)

The walk kept going, and going, and going. Lloyd’s thoughts wandered toward his family– and Jay’s much more tolerable rants.

I miss them so much.

I’m a complete moron.

-------

They reached the Monastery, whereLloyd hauled one side of the gate open. “After you.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t argue. “Thank you.”

They stepped inside, and Lloyd was hit with a realization that it was rather sad to be here alone. He’d gotten used to dead silence, but it made him want to cry now that he faced it; that, and throw something off the edge of the cliff.

He ignored both urges, instead shutting the gate behind them.

Harumi blinked. “Did it get larger in the Merge?”

“No,” Lloyd grumbles. “It’s just bigger than one person needs.”

“I suppose so,” Harumi replied lightly. “It still looks nice, like new construction. I suppose I won’t be receiving a tour or a cup of tea?”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “You want to play houseguest? That doesn’t sound like you.”

“No, it’s not. Perhaps I turned over a new leaf.”

“I don’t believe it.”

“You shouldn’t.” Harumi rolled her shoulders, smiling mischievously. “Knives or no?”

Lloyd gave her one dry look. “I told you, staves only. Cleaning blood off stone is harder than it sounds.”

She laughed. “I’ve heard that. But really, I’m not a heathen. I would only try and really kill you after we’d fought a couple times! Imagine if I succeeded the first time– which is quite likely. How awkward.”

“You’ve become a master of understatement,” Lloyd commented dryly, then walked across the courtyard to put away his sword. “Maybe the Merge did you some more good than it did me.”

Harumi chuckled softly, and when he glanced over at her, she was plucking a knife out of her waistband and placing it against the wall— far enough away so neither of them would be able to get to it while they were sparring. “Maybe. It’s been an odd couple of years.”

“Tell me about it,” he commented, focused on re-tying his gi so it wouldn’t get in his way. He hadn’t had a good fight in too long, and the training course wasn’t a great substitute. Could he still take a real opponent, with months or years of cooling his heels only dulling his skills?

It’ll be good for sharpening your skills, the practical part of his mind contributed. Iron sharpens iron.

Harumi taunted, “I can still kick your butt.”

Lloyd scoffed in reply. “Doubt it.”

Harumi’s laugh echoed off the silence etched into the courtyard walls. He approached and stopped in the center of the yard, assuming a defensive position. She stepped closer and did the same. Again he noted the strengths and weaknesses in her stance— how best to knock her off balance, to force her to retreat. She was easily exploited, when done right.

He grinned. I really needed some action.

Harumi grinned back. “You’re so slow. Scared to hit a girl, Lloyd?”

“Is that what I should be calling you?” He taunted back, squaring his heels, and launched himself into a roundhouse kick. “I was referring to you as my sworn enemy!”

“Aww, I’m flattered!” Harumi snorted, dodging his kick and launching an attack of her own. “Sworn enemy does have a nice ring to it!”

Lloyd dodged her punch easily. “That’s what you focus on?”

“What, would you prefer something else? I’ve got a whole host of names I could go by.”

He ignored her comment for just long enough to try to sweep her legs out from under her– and miss, coming back into a standing position. He was just quick enough to block a blow to the head. “Don’t call yourself the Quiet One anymore. You’re not quiet!”

“Pssh, no one calls me that anymore. I’ve also avoided the whole ‘damsel in distress.’”

“Really? Your list of former nicknames is getting long.”

“I could make it longer. I even managed to shake being called your girlfriend,” she shot back.

Lloyd stiffened, despite all his training demanding flexibility and loose muscles, and his rhythm dropped. He stood back, resting on his heels, steadying himself. “...Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Harumi smirked, still in defensive position. “Are you still going to pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about?”

Lloyd’s annoyance flared into anger. He knew his face was red, and worse, he didn’t care. “I’m not interested in your games.”

“Funny. I don’t believe that you invited me all the way up here to get even. You’re lonely, and I was there.”

He returned to a boxing stance. “I’m not that pathetic.”

“Just a little pathetic,then.” She rolled her eyes. “Tell me I’m wrong, Lloyd. I dare you.”

“We both know you’ll ignore anything I say. Stop stalling.”

“Hey, I’m right here!” Harumi spread out her hands, opening up to a punch they both knew Lloyd wouldn’t throw. “If you have something to say to me, just spit it out already! I’m not going to tell anyone. I’m good with secrets, you know that.”

Irritation won out, and Lloyd threw a kick. He aimed for her head, almost landing it, but she ducked just in time. He lost his balance and took a moment to step back, but the deep, heaving breaths from the failed strike only made him angrier.

“Do you know what the problem is?” Harumi was still talking, and watching him with a heavy gaze. “You’re not used to being alone anymore. You can’t handle yourself now that your team is dead.”

“They’re not dead. They’re missing. It’s different.”

“Really? Then why aren’t you looking for them? You’re just rotting away, up here in your lonely castle.”

“My monastery–”

“Is empty,” she interrupted, crossing her arms. “And you’re empty too.”

Anger won out, again, but this time Lloyd couldn’t lash out. The rules of sparring were too deeply drilled into his mind, from years of training with his brothers and sister. When sparring with a friend, never strike when they’re undefended.

Harumi, with crossed arms and unbalanced posture, wasn’t prepared. Despite how much she grated on his nerves, she was his guest.

He poured his anger into words instead.

“My family is not dead. I’m doing fine, no thanks to you, and all the ways you’ve tried to ruin my life. Insulting me is a step too far, actually! You could’ve walked away, ignored me, left my life again. You came to my home, because I invited you, of your own free will. And now you’re playing it like you hate me?!”

She scoffed. “Hate is a strong word. I loathe you, Lloyd Garmadon.”

“Fine, that’s just as bad! If you’re going to act like you’ve always hated me, then I guess there’s no pleasing you. There’s no such thing as ‘good enough’ for a prissy princess like you!”

Harumi glared at him. “Do not call me that.”

“I’ll call you whatever I want! You’ve always wanted to destroy my life, Harumi. Congratulations, it’s destroyed, and you get to see it!” He gestured at the rest of the Monastery courtyard, just as miserably empty as before she’d come to visit. “Are you happy? You didn’t get to do it yourself, but you still got what you wanted. Is it good enough?!”

Harumi shifted her weight, uncrossing her arms. “Now you’re putting words in my mouth? That’s so mature, Green Savior. What’s next? Are you going to tell me that I should still be dead?”

Lloyd grasped at words, finding nothing good to throw back at her. “You– you really love ruining my day!”

She rolled her eyes and settled back into a fighting stance, fists raised to protect her face. “You ruined your own day.”

Finally! Lloyd didn’t wait for an invitation to whale on her. Instead, he launched himself full-body in her direction.

They collided, and Harumi fell back with a cry of surprise. Her feet slipped out from under her, and Lloyd angled just so she didn’t crack her skull on the stone– not that he would have minded, once upon a time– and instead bore the first impact with her shoulder.

Harumi grunted loudly, and Lloyd took advantage of her dazed state to pin her down by the shoulders and hips.

Red and purple tinged his vision, pounding with his pulse. When was the last time he’d been so angry?

Harumi tapped out, pounding her fist three times against the flagstone. Her breath was coming in gasps, and a secret, evil part of Lloyd wished she would just stop and be quiet.

He sat back, letting up pressure on her chest, and sat on her legs to keep her down on the ground. The haze of anger was beginning to clear, and he realized he was panting just as hard.

The red vision cleared, and he slowly came to see the blinding paleness below him. Harumi, with white hair and pale skin. There was no healthy flush in her cheeks, despite all the exertion. She was more dazed that he’d realized, and presently began to cough.

I did that to her.

Lloyd let up, getting off her so she could roll onto her side. Harumi was heaving full gasps of air, and she curled into a recovery position to regain her breath. He watched with some measure of worry, but within a minute, her cheeks were flushed again.

Good. If she was hyperventilating… He didn’t let himself finish the thought, along with its awful implications. She’s fine. Just don’t get so rough with her next time, Greenie.

When she was able to sit up, she choked out a few breathless words. “You were holding out on me. I haven’t seen you act like that since…”

Lloyd looked away, answering the unasked question. “That’s because I haven’t. I refused then, and I refuse now.”

“I’m not surprised either way… your father is a real piece of work.” She took a deep breath, sounding more stable. “Like father, like son.”

Lloyd bristled. “You’re still insulting me after I almost give you a concussion? You must love to hate me, Harumi.”

“I told you already, I don’t hate you.”

“Oh, right. How could I forget. You loathe me, which is a synonym for hating me.”

“It’s not the same.” Now it was her turn to avoid his gaze. “Besides, we’ve been enemies for years now. If I treated you any differently, you’d think I’m lying. It wouldn’t even be a bad assumption.”

Lloyd couldn’t help scowling, even though she wasn’t looking. “And where do you think I got that assumption?”

She rolled her eyes, but looked at him again. “Probably my devastating betrayal that broke your heart, followed by resurrecting the evil reflection of your dead father, dying as a direct result of your actions, and then acting as the right hand woman for your greatest enemy.”

Lloyd stared at her incredulousy, and she had the audacity to laugh. “Come on, Lloyd. I’m more self-aware than you give me credit for.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“Then you’re a fool.”

Enough was enough, so Lloyd stood up and offered her a hand. “If you don’t hate me, then you could have the decency to be honest and tell me how you really feel.”

Harumi accepted the hand up, letting go as soon as she was on her feet. Her hand was smaller than he remembered, but still strong, and he wondered how strong her grip would be if she was trying to hurt him.

As soon as she was standing, Harumi drew back her hand. He thought she would make some witty retort, but instead she took hold of the hem of her hoodie and pulled it over her head.

Lloyd averted his eyes. She wasn’t wearing a shirt, and her pale skin on display made him distinctly uncomfortable– that, and hot under the collar. “Do you have to do that?”

“Do what?” She sounded genuinely confused.

He felt a blush creeping up his neck and ears. “...Not wear a shirt.”

“Oh.” She laughed at him. “No thanks. If I’m going to get hot and sweaty, I’d rather not make my jacket stink too. You’ll just have to deal with it.”

He groaned. “Fine. Then you should at least answer my question.”

“What was your question, again?”

“Your feelings,” he gritted, glancing at her. She was wearing a smug grin, of the type that made his skin crawl– and not entirely unpleasantly, which irritated him even more. “Since we’re apparently working out all our issues today.”

She laughed, throwing back her head with amusement. “Apparently, but you seem content to insult me instead. I can play dumb, if that’s what you’d prefer.”

“Less of a play for you,” he sniped, “and more of a reality.”

Harumi sighed, still sounding like he amused her, and looked him in the eye. “Look, you were convenient at the time, alright? My feelings had nothing to do with it.”

Nothing.

Lloyd watched her, thinking of all the times they’d had this conversation already, all the times she’d held a knife to his throat.

The ways she’d touched him, spoken to him– it was too convenient for her to say that. It was the most convenient option. The easiest answer, to change the topic and make him move his focus away from the real her.

She’s lying again. I need to try something new.

Lloyd turned away from her and approached the wall where the training weapons were kept. “You know, Harumi, I’m not stupid. You might think so, but I’m still the Green Ninja. I’ve had girls screaming over me for more than a decade, and you know what I’ve learned?”

She snorted. “You’ll tell me even if I don’t ask.”

Lloyd was glad she couldn’t see him roll his eyes. She’s predictable now. He opened the cabinet and pulled out two bamboo staves, both engraved with simple words of power his uncle once remembered from ages past.

“Here’s the bit you don’t get, Harumi. Those girls really did like me, even if I didn’t pay them any attention. And you’re no different! You’re not the first to have a crush on the most powerful martial artist in all of Ninjago.”

She laughed at him, but when he looked at her, she seemed uncomfortable. “Believe me, Lloyd, my only screaming at you has been from pure anger. You were the easiest target to reel in, not to mention the most likely ninja to sympathize with a defenseless princess. It’s as easy as that.”

Lloyd closed the cabinet with the butt of one staff, thinking over his next reply. She was watching him, taking note of his reactions. If he wanted the truth, he’d have to force her into a corner.

When he came back to Harumi, he thrust one staff into her hands. “I know a lie when I smell it. You can’t trick me again.”

She took it with a bitter sneer. “Even if I tell you the truth, you don’t believe me. At this rate, let’s just bet on it.”

Lloyd eyed her. “Bet on what? The odds you tell me something true for once?”

“No, stupid. A true, honest answer.” She tested the weight of the staff he’d given her, tapping the ends against the flagstones. “The catch is that you have to beat me in another fight.”

Lloyd spun his staff around, testing its familiar balance. It was just like his uncle’s old weapon, but still too new– there were no ridges or damage, no scorch marks, to attest its age and usefulness. It wasn’t ancient yet, and neither was he. Sometimes he wondered if he’d ever get to that age, but today he didn’t particularly care.

“Will you give me a truthful answer?”

“Only the truth. No tricks, no lies.”

Lloyd thought it over as he examined his staff. It was a tempting offer… would she deliver on it? What if he lost?

He glanced at her. Over so many years of fighting, he’d figured out her tells– she never covered them all completely. Here and there she’d smile, or toss of the hair more than she really needed to. Her fingers would twitch if she lied, like the truth was itching to escape through her fingertips.

She was still, calmly gripping her staff. Truth.

“Swear it to me.”

Harumi rolled her eyes. “I swear on the lives of all of my dead parents. Happy?”

Lloyd nodded, taking the stance required by bo staff combat. “Yeah. It’s a deal.”

Harumi stepped back the same way, raising her staff readily. “Deal. Let’s get on with it.”

They faced each other again. Lloyd watched her, an unshakeable feeling of premonition coming over him.

They were a matched pair, and not really opposites anymore. One predator and one prey, but even the prey was still a predator of its own right. Harumi twitched like prey, but if he went too easily on her, he would lose quickly.

The promise of a truthful answer was too valuable to risk.

I have to win this fight. I owe it to myself!

Lloyd stepped to the side, and Harumi copied him. They began to circle, and he settled into waiting, prepared…

The ghost of a smile, right at the corner of her mouth, betrayed her attack. He had his staff raised in a moment, blocking her blow with a hollow thock!

Harumi smirked, and he smiled reflexively as he threw her off.

She tried again, striking multiple times– high two, low five, a strike toward the ribs. He blocked them all, but the force behind them made him step back once.

With a little more ground, Harumi became bolder and stepped forward again. Lloyd pushed back. She’s got too much momentum.

He gained one step, and they were right back where they started. Their staves cracked against each other loudly, echoing off the silent walls of the courtyard, echoing off the ghosts of the empty space.

Once, these sounds had been second to cheering and laughter…

Harumi moved suddenly, jerking Lloyd out of his reverie. She feinted, then side-stepped, and suddenly they were all turned around. Lloyd had his back to the gates, and she was gaining momentum again.

Stupid! You know better than to get distracted! Lloyd berated himself internally, but he knew why he wasn’t focused.

Harumi was silent: no taunts, no insults, not even heavy breathing. She seemed completely unharmed from her previous fall, and she attempted to hook his staff and pull it out of his hands.

Lloyd turned his staff instead, trapping hers, and pulled. She stumbled, and he freed himself for a chance to land one strike on her right shoulder.

She grunted, stepping back so she could defend more easily.

Factually, Lloyd knew that he was the better of their two. He had more training, better technique, sharper skills, experience. All the things that a battle-hardened ninja should have. Harumi had none of them.

She still gave him a run for his money. Between constant attacks, she spoke. “You know, on the walk up here, I realized something.”

Lloyd grunted, blocking a poorly-timed strike at his abdomen. “Something besides everything you were rambling about?”

“I used to read a lot about you,” she continued, ignoring his jab– and when she ducked, she made a reach for his staff and tried to steal it. Lloyd landed a weak hit on her arm instead, making her pull back.

Lloyd watched her closely. “And?”

Harumi rolled her eyes. “And I remembered that you used to fly dragons up here. You weren’t ever supposed to walk, were you?”

He made an attempt at an attack, but she seemed to be expecting it. “That’s difficult when all your dragons are dead, Rumi.”

“Pity. I like dragons.” She grinned, pausing her attacks. “Did you just call me ‘Rumi?’”

Lloyd’s heart sank to the bottom of his chest– or maybe that was his stomach churning, some unseen power making him sweat. He looked at her with what he hoped was a withering stare. “Slip of the tongue.”

His hope must have been misplaced, because she just kept grinning. “You’re really not a good liar, Lloyd.”

“Then you should know that was true,” he rebuffed, and meant it entirely. “Unlike you, I don’t make a habit of lying to people.”

“You must not be including yourself in that statement.” She rested the end of her staff against the flagstones. “I like the way you say it.”

His stomach churned a little more. “Say what? ‘Lying?’”

“No, idiot.” She rolled her eyes again. “My nickname. It’s nice to have someone call me that again.”

Unsettled, Lloyd only found the presence of mind to smile back at her– and weakly, because he still wasn’t sure he meant it. Last time Harumi had made him smile, she’d tried to kill him. “I guess that’s good?”

“I’d say so,” she said with a laugh. “Especially these days.”

Harumi gave no warning. In a flash, she struck out with her staff and hit against his, yanking it from his hand. Lloyd barely had time to process it before he heard the sound of it clattering against the ground, useless at a distance.

Then she went after his feet, and he fell hard. He grunted in pain as his back struck a particularly rough stone, immediately smarting, not to mention his pride at being bested so fast.

He glared at her. “Hey! That was a dirty trick!” He pushed himself up on his forearms, but before he could stand, Harumi had her staff pointed at his head.

She raised an eyebrow, and he glared. “You’re a bad sport.”

“Hey, I could have used a dozen other ways to take you down. At least I was quick.”

“That’s not better!”

“You’re really going to complain about this?”

“When you cheated in a fair fight? Yeah, I’ll complain!” Lloyd slapped her staff out of the way and stood up.

“Oh, please.” She put her free hand on her hips, shifting her weight. “Lloyd, it’s not cheating to move quickly. If I took you by surprise, that’s on you.”

“You weren’t following the rules of sparring. That wasn’t a fair win. The deal’s off.”

“I still don’t see the problem,” she argued, watching him with a careful eye. “I won, you lost. By all rights, that means you don’t get any answers from me.”

Lloyd rolled his eyes, searching for some good jab to throw her way, but he came up empty. “Since when do you care about rights?”

Harumi groaned. “You are impossible, Lloyd!”

“So are you.”

“...Touché.” She rolled her eyes. “If you’re so set on it, then let’s go again. Same terms, but if you win or I cheat, you get two honest answers. Does that sound fair enough to you, Green Ninja?”

Lloyd paused to think about it, but the deal was too tempting to resist. The real truth was on the line, and honestly, his broken heart still hurt.

I still want answers.

Lloyd took his time retrieving his staff from where it had rolled away from him. When he came back to face her, he focused on his determination.

No more standing around with my guard down. “Fine. Time for a rematch.”

She nodded, and again they faced each other in ready stances. Harumi held her staff lightly, but in such a way that Lloyd knew she would defend herself. Again, he let himself begin on the defense.

She wasted only a moment.

Harumi threw herself at him, striking her staff against his with another hollow thock! It made his hands vibrate painfully, the sensation running up his forearms. It took more than a little effort for Lloyd to push her off.

She was playing with me before, wasn’t she?

Harumi was silent, and this time, intentional with her strikes. Lloyd had to keep moving– every time he slowed down, she prodded at his weak spots, and once she landed a smarting strike against his shin.

He replied with a jab to the shoulder, making her stumble. Her expression afterward was not angry, per se…

Competitive, his mind supplied, and motivated. You poked the bear.

Not the first time I’ve done it, either.

Harumi was still the Quiet One, even after all this time, and she kept Lloyd on a constant defense. His few thrusts at her were easily parried away. How had he forgotten that she’d studied him, not so long ago, and knew his weaknesses?

Spider bit the mouse, sleep deep…

She’d caught him like a fly in her web, penned him in and trapped him. She was still the same enemy he’d fought for months while living on the run, the same villain who’d given him the slip repeatedly in more recent years.

She did have skill, and it was obvious now.

Lloyd threw himself into a desperate offense toward her legs and head, but it was no use. Harumi seemed to know where he’d go before he moved, and her back was still to an open space, while his was not. She had no problem maneuvering, pushing him back one step at a time, until he bumped against something waist-height.

Harumi took a menacing step.

Lloyd backed again, and tripped over the column which held the switch for the training course.

Despite the stumble, Lloyd raised his staff just in time to block her downward blow.

Harumi, still silent and more than a little intimidating, had a strange look in her eye. Why was it so unsettling?

Her constant chatter had been annoying, but silence from her felt wrong. Where were the insults and the gloating? She was forcing him onto the defensive without even saying a word!

He struck his staff against hers with a fervor, unable to find an opening. When he did find one, she feinted, and the trap closed.

One deft upward motion stole the staff from his hands. She butted the end of hers against his chest, thrusting him to the ground.

He landed hard for the second time, and Harumi pinned him down with one knee pressed down on his chest.

She was breathing hard, panting as she stared at him.

Lloyd swallowed, trying to catch his breath. She's so fast. Her breath was brushing against his face, confusing and disorienting him.

The ground below felt like it was spinning.

They stared at one another. Harumi had that same strange light in her eye, but Lloyd didn’t know what it meant. She eased her knee off his chest slowly, once she was sure he wouldn’t try to fight her off.

(Not that he could.)

“Was that fair enough for you?” Harumi was still breathless, still quiet, still confusing.

Lloyd swallowed. “...Yeah. This time.” His voice was weaker than he liked.

“Are you going to ask me a question?”

Lloyd blinked. “I… I lost. I thought I didn’t get any.”

She shrugged. “Since when has that ever stopped you?”

It was true… and not worth denying it. Lloyd didn’t have to justify himself to Harumi! When had he ever needed her to understand him?

Besides, it always worked. Annoying people led to them putting down their guard. If he was an annoying kid, he’d get his way–

Focus! Lloyd wished he could slap some sense into himself. Harumi was still watching him, and the quiet dragged on to the point where she almost looked bored.

He blurted out the years-old question, not trusting himself to be careful with his words. It would just have to do.

“You said I was the easiest to trick. That you picked the easiest target, and that was me, and– and that’s all it was to you. Was any of it actually real? Anything?”

Harumi watched him, her pupils dilated. Her gaze flicked all over his face.

For a second, Lloyd wondered. Would she answer him?

But…

Was this the real Harumi? A glimpse of the girl he’d actually fallen for? The one he thought he’d known, without all the walls?

(Walls, built with bricks of disgust and hatred, were only that: walls. Not real hatred.)

Harumi leaned down, and Lloyd strained to hear past the ringing in his ears.

She paused, a few inches above his face… and touched his cheek.

He shivered, but her only reaction was a smile. She spoke quietly. “There’s one thing you should know about me, Lloyd. I’m a liar. Feelings are always involved.”

He took a breath, meaning to ask her why, what do you mean–

She silenced him by leaning down, and without bothering to ask, Harumi kissed him.

He froze.

She ignored his abject confusion, keeping the kiss going. It was his first, and he didn’t know what to do. He reached up to touch her face, and when he thought he felt her smile, reached farther to tangle his fingers in her hair.

She sighed quietly, oddly patient as he figured out just what he was supposed to do, and Lloyd suddenly realized just how much he wanted her to touch him.

He’d been starved of the touch of loved ones for so long. It didn’t matter that it was Harumi– her warmth pushed away the loneliness. Her exposed skin was radiating warmth, bringing heat to his face in a rather pleasant way.

He wanted to laugh at the stupidity of it all– he was comforted by the presence of his greatest enemy.

Then Harumi tore away from him, and the moment shattered.

 She sat up, and then pulled away and got off of him. He watched, breathless and confused and reeling. Her shoulders were heaving with large breaths. Her cheeks were rose pink.

She swallowed, speaking quietly. “I… shouldn’t have done that.”

Lloyd felt light-headed, but he sat up anyway. “Rumi?”

“Don’t.” She wouldn’t look at him. “Don’t do this to yourself.”

“Do what?”

She wouldn’t look at him now. Her flush was pretty, bringing color to her normally pale face. She clutched at the fabric of her pants, holding it in tight fists at her sides, and her scarred knuckles were white.

Lloyd hesitated. “I… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She jerked her head over to look at him. Her green eyes were shining, filled with more emotion than he’d seen from her in a long time– more than she’d allowed as any of her masked selves. Her true self was here, and hurting.

“You can’t trust me, Lloyd. Stop while you're ahead. You got everything you wanted.”

He didn’t allow himself to flinch at the bitterness of her tone. She was angry about something, but he didn’t know what. Maybe angry at herself– it didn’t actually matter, did it?

He looked her in the eye, and in that moment, his determination crystallized into a more powerful motivation. “Stop lying to me, Rumi.”

“I’m not lying.”

“Yes, you are.” He shifted to kneel in front of her, the flagstones digging into his kneecaps, reminding him of the arthritis he’d surely develop in the next fifteen years. “Enough of the lying. Be honest with me.”

“What is there to be honest about? I gave you what you’re looking for, right? Or are you trying to get more out of me?” She looked down at the ground, defeated. “You should know I’m worthless.”

“Stop!” He reached out and touched her knee, and while it made her flinch, she looked at him again. “Harumi. Listen to me.”

She scowled. “How could I not? You never shut up.”

“Enough of this,” Lloyd insisted. This was too important to abandon.

The unpleasant, obvious truth. It was scraped bare, an angry red gash against their futures. It was like every other important relationship in Lloyd’s short, painful life: undeniable.

The bedrock of their broken relationship was painful enough to at least try repairing it.

“I think…” He searched for the right words, watching her expression shift. “...I finally understand you, Harumi.”

She laughed miserably. “Yeah? What makes you think you have any idea what’s wrong with me?”

‘Because we’re the same.” He smiled, trying to be encouraging. “Rumi. You don’t actually want me to leave you alone, do you? You’re not just lying to me– you’re lying to yourself.”

She shook her head. “No. You really don’t want this, Lloyd. You don’t know me.”

“Don’t I? I know what it’s like to be lonely, to be self-destructive.”

She rolled her eyes, so he pressed harder. “Harumi. Listen to me for just five minutes. I want the truth.”

“That’s not what you sound like you want.”

“Well– well maybe that’s not the only thing I want! So what?”

“So you’re asking to get hurt. There is no us,” she spat.

“But there could be! Don’t you want a relationship that’s not based on betrayal?” Lloyd laughed, unable to hide his bitterness. “That’s all I ever wanted from you.”

Harumi scoffed. “We’re not meant to be! We’re horrible to each other. It’s not possible. It’s not healthy!”

“So? Since when do you care about healthy?”

“Since I started to actually care about you! Somehow, I managed to end up caring what happens to your useless carcass!”

Lloyd blinked, taken aback by her shouting. “...Yeah? Obviously.”

She flushed an angry red. “You are so–! Lloyd, we can’t. We’re just not right for each other!”

“Who says?” He looked around, gesturing at the empty courtyard. “The world’s practically ended already. Nothing is what it was before. Why hold on to this?”

“Because I’m going to hurt you again. It’s inevitable. That’s the truth. That’s what we are.”

“That’s what we were!” Lloyd groaned, his heart aching. “It doesn’t have to be that way, Harumi. We could be better, happier–”

“Can we really? How do you know that?”

“I don’t need to know. There’s no way to know.” He reached out and took one of her hands in both of his, and he held on tightly. She almost yanked it back, giving him a dirty look, but didn’t actually make a move.

Lloyd stared her down. “Harumi. Don’t you understand me yet? We don’t have to keep playing this stupid game. The entire world has moved on, we can rebuild too.”

“Oh, sure. Rebuild what never existed, great idea. You know better than to trust me again.”

“Well, maybe I’m stupid enough not to listen.”

She laughed. “You’re not stupid. Don’t make me be the one who’s talking sense.”

Lloyd smiled, absurdly hopeful. “Hate to break it to you, but that’s never how it works between us. That part isn’t going to change.”

Her good humor dissipated. “You’re not thinking straight. You don’t actually want this, Lloyd.”

“You don't,” he countered. “Why not?”

“We both know there’s no future for us. You need someone who hasn’t tried to kill you multiple times. Lying to ourselves won’t change how pointless this all is.”

“It’s only pointless if we think it is!” He leaned forward, daring her to pull away. “Harumi, you have to try to make it work, or it never will.”

“It’s always me who has to try–”

“I’m already trying!”

“Still!” She tried to pull her hand back, but Lloyd kept his hold, and she didn’t end up moving. “...Look. Even if I wanted it to work, it’ll get messed up again. It would be easier on us both if we stopped trying.”

Lloyd watched her, feeling their pulses through their entwined hands.

He saw her, and what he saw made his heart ache with compassion.

Harumi was… anxious, scared, angry. Confused above all else. She wanted comfort, some encouragement that it wasn’t futile.

And he knew how that felt, because that’s how he felt and what he wished for.

“It’ll hurt,” he admitted, watching the way her eyebrows rose in vindication. “I’m okay with hurting, Harumi. That’s how loving people works. But… there’s no one left. It’s just us, and the world is moving on. Ninjago doesn’t need me anymore, and it won’t remember you either. There’s no better time for a fresh start.”

She hesitated, listening, thinking.

Maybe… they could try again. A real shot at actually working. No more lying, no more hurting each other over and over; a real future, a possibility.

Could I actually be that lucky?

Harumi leaned closer, and with her free hand, she brushed one loose curl off his forehead and behind his ear. Her fingers were gentle as she tucked it back, and her expression was soft.

“You’re right, Lloyd. You do need a fresh start.”

Lloyd thought his heart should be soaring, but something stopped him. “...We need it.”

She smiled, the gentlest he’d ever seen her, and her hand fell back into her lap. “No. Not together, or at least, not right now.”

Crack– the sound of Lloyd’s heart fracturing anew. “But…”

She sighed, reaching up to press a finger to his lips. “Not with me, Lloyd, even if we both wish for it. I don’t deserve you, and I never have. If you really want me to love you, then believe me now. Let me go.”

He stared at her, every word a separate blow. Her touch kept him silent.

She’s lying. She’s always lying. The mantra repeated in his mind, like always. You can’t trust Harumi or anything she says.

But she looked so sad! What if she was being honest here? Did it matter, when her words felt like a knife?

Lloyd pulled back and let go of her hand. “I…”

Harumi sighed, and after a moment, she stood up. There was hurt written across her face, in the lines of her frown. She seemed small.

It’s not an act.

She reached down to pick up the two staves from where they’d rolled away, then offered them to Lloyd. He took them numbly, listening to her.

“It’s past time I left, Lloyd. You won’t have to see me again.”

He looked down at the staves, with their uncomfortably new wood and grain, because it hurt less than looking her in the eye. If his brothers and sister had been here, these staves would already be battered and useless from too much training, but they were still new. An artifact of the world which created the Green Ninja, now they sat around and rotted. They would slowly return to dust, just as Lloyd eventually would.

He forced back tears. His voice was pitifully weak. “...Good luck, I guess.”

“Same to you,” she said softly. “Don’t give up yet, Lloyd. Your family isn’t dead, you’ll find them.”

He nodded, not sure what to say to that. “Ninja never quit.”

“I know, believe me.” Harumi stepped back. “Don’t lose that annoying optimism quite yet.”

Lloyd had to laugh, feeling a bit sorry for himself. “Yeah, well, I have a talent for being annoying. I’ll be alright.” He finally looked up at her, despite how it gouged at his heart. “You’re tough, so… I know you’ll be fine out there.”

Harumi smiled, but it wasn’t mean spirited. It was softer, more amused than anything else. “I’ll figure it out. Just don’t die– I still reserve the right to kill you someday.”

“Yeah?” He smiled in return. “Sounds like a date, Rumi.”

She sighed, beginning to walk across the courtyard again. She retrieved her knife and put her hoodie back on, and when she straightened, she was smiling at him. “Thanks for the spars, Lloyd. It’s good to know we’re still evenly matched.”

“I guess you’ll have to keep working at it, if you want to kill me. You might figure it out next time.”

She laughed and pulled open one of the gates. “Just you wait. You never know with me.”

Lloyd nodded as she slipped through the gate. The only thing he could think to say choked him.

Of course I never know! You run away as soon as you’re honest with me.

But there was no way to change a person, no matter how much he wanted to do so.

He didn’t get up until she was well and truly gone. Numbly, he put the staves away, carefully closing their cabinet to keep away the dust.

He sat down on the shallow wooden steps by his uncle’s memorial and rested his chin in his hands.

Then, and only then, did Lloyd cry: miserable, silent, and embarrassed. There was nothing else to do.

Harumi’s words played over and over in his head.

Not with me, Lloyd, even if we both wish for it.

What was he supposed to do? What ‘fresh start’ did she think he needed? He’d only meant another chance for them to… get along? Be friends, or more? At least not try to kill each other every time they met, maybe even enjoy each other’s company. It had been a reasonable thing to want– even something reachable, if it weren’t for her blasted habit of giving up on everything good in her miserable life!

Besides, what about Lloyd? What about his feelings? Harumi was the only person he had left!

He cried a little harder, burying his face in his hands.

And now you’ve left me too!

What do I do now?

[sethshead]

The surge of anti-Semitism is a symptom of the decay of democratic habits, a leading indicator of rising authoritarianism. When anti-Semitism takes hold, conspiracy theory hardens into conventional wisdom, embedding violence in thought and then in deadly action. A society that holds its Jews at arm’s length is likely to be more intent on hunting down scapegoats than addressing underlying defects. Although it is hardly an iron law of history, such societies are prone to decline. England entered a long dark age after expelling its Jews in 1290. Czarist Russia limped toward revolution after the pogroms of the 1880s. If America persists on its current course, it would be the end of the Golden Age not just for the Jews, but for the country that nurtured them.

I also began my undergraduate studies in the late-'90s, just a few short blocks from Columbia University. My memories of the time and place are not so rosy as are Mr. Foer's. I remember a humanities lecture being disrupted by a student revolt because it focused on the Holocaust. This was back when everything was called a "Holocaust" except the actual Holocaust, and unsurprisingly the Holocaust was equated with New York State's prison system. Bad as carceral culture is, it is not the Holocaust. Columbia had its LaRouchists camped forever outside. Friends at CCNY were taught that people like me were fake Jews and responsible for slavery by faculty approved by the likes of Leonard Jeffries. Academia, even then, was a setting where antisemitism retained respectability, provided it was couched in radical enough theory and jargon.

Yes, Jews are the canaries in the coal mine when it comes to liberal backsliding, the first to be othered, antisemitism the first bigotry to be destigmatized. But it has likewise been a very long time since American academia has been committed to the liberal project; longer than I've been alive, I'd reckon. My experience is of an academic humanities and some social sciences mobilized to problematize, deconstruct, and dismantle liberalism; of instructors who had appointed themselves radicalizers and indoctrinators, not critical guides in teaching how to think, how to interrogate all texts.

This conflict between the university's traditional liberal role of hosting reasoned debate among a diversity of ideas, and faculty and students who wish to create intellectual monocultures of goodthink on campus, will ultimately cause the collapse of the Ivory Tower. It has for too long tolerated doctrines intolerant of dissent or argument. The Fourth Estate tried to hold the lines of liberal democracy, until the internet democratized media and the mob went where it could find the maximum bias confirmation, be pointed towards the old classic villains to explain all personal and social failings. Now both demagogical extremes may blame different Jews, but in the end, they both blame Jews for America's problems. And where are our old defenders? Where have they ever been? Have we ever had defenders?

In 1968, when a local New York City public school board tried to fire an almost-entirely Jewish group of teachers, who defended them? The largely Jewish-led union. But unions don't care as much about Jews anymore, not when they're more preoccupied with international events than with the welfare of their members here at home - just ask the Jewish teachers harassed and threatened at Hillcrest and Origin High Schools how vocal their union has been in their defense, and against DOE attempts to whitewash bias incidents.

American Jews sought influence in our liberal environment for our own protection, but that liberalism has required us to cede some influence to those who also know marginalization. At the local level, this has made us again vulnerable.

That said, liberalism is a mixed blessing for Jews. It offers us the opportunity for individual advancement as far as our talents will allow, without having to renounce our Jewish identity. Yet at the same time, Jewish identity isn't really individual, it's grounded in community, in family and public ritual. At heart, ours is a tribal and insular culture. The more we're accepted, the more diffuse our connection to the community becomes; when under disability and persecution, we huddle together and renew our dedication to our people and to the intergenerational transfer that is our future. Whatever happens in America, we will survive - Am Yisrael hai. American liberal democracy, and that of any country that turns on its Jews? About that I'm not so sanguine.

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

it is really interesting that john and arthur are representative of the same internal dilemma but with completely opposite ways of handling. john has a specific self awareness of his role in the cycle of violence and gang life - and decides through a lot of rdr2 to be avoidant about that reality. he grows through that as proven by the epilogue, but its interesting that his choice for trying to grapple with the outcome is 1. choosing to become a cog in the machine of violence 2.avoiding all attachment and abandoning everything (which cycles in with the themes of the first game not being able to outrun his past and the cyclical violence embedded in american history yadda yadda)

whereas arthur deals with this reality by swinging from denying the facts and reflecting on them interchangeably. and trying his best to aid and care for the people at camp. arthur is introspective and thoughtful and places a lot of stock into the values of protecting the people there. he does this through being involved with everyones business at all times and loyalty to dutch. he feels immense guilt for his actions but acts in contradictory ways when he has dialogue in kind.

what both john and arthur have in common though is believing themselves to be nothing more than their violence at the beginning of the game. they both believe of themselves in some capacity that goodness (read: redemption) is beyond their reach though arthurs is a little more complex for him. for john in the first game, it really hammers this point home with the tragedy of his end (which i think is a strange choice given how it goes down but thats not for Here) and i am wondering if something similar will occur with arthur (which i think it will since the game has a tendency to punish arthur for the loyalty in his character)

read dead in all instances is a critical examination and critique of america (which. yeah. its rockstar lmao) and it takes care to hammer in the depths of corruption on all levels. between people but also in the government and the law and the order. it poses the question of who can be redeemed, truly, if anyone in a nation like this and then follows up with what is redemption exactly? and what things - what actions can compensate for it if any at all? both arthur and johns characters grapple with these ideas but they handle them so differently in a way (yet so the same in others they are so brothers fr) that fascinates me... very inch resting .....

anyways i dont think this makes any sense i am just yapping this is not Meta this is just stuff in my brain

[dcwnthercbbithcle]

God, ASDHASHD brainrotting shipping hours because Billie (@coastercrushed) is awesome and enables me with Mapplethorpe and Doe in the Murmaid AU

Mape isn't a mermaid per the AU, saved by the fact that he's not one of the Entity's guaranteed catches. Doe? Damned in almost all verses to be caught and captured by the Entity at some point as a food source. But Mape only has one or two instances of this occurring, so it was a coinflip as to whether he'd be a fishman or a human and it landed on human!

Mape, rather than living on a small town located inland (at least relatively given Australia) resides on the coast, and being a semi-outcast kid that he is, spends much of the time wandering the beaches and surfing. Though surfing is far, far from a beast even comparable to skateboarding, and he's (lovingly) quite the cringefail when it comes to it.

Wipeouts are a 50/50 occurrence, and though they've never been more than a mouth and nosefull of saltwater, a feeling of intense disorientation and a sudden burst of adrenaline and riding the waves to be pushed back towards the surface.

Mape may be a cringefail when it comes to boarding, but he knows his safety and what to do when he inevitably falls.

Though in one circumstance as he fell, passing through the storm of bubbles into the calm beneath the waves, he caught sight of murmaid!Doe at a distance, watching. Fins and nets on full display and a look in her eye he couldn't place, but it didn't seem predatory, more excited.

Now, murmaid!Doe, as we all know, she's not a strong hunter given her young age and not having a pack to rely on to secure difficult kills or protect her. She was, in that instance, watching Mapplethorpe, excitedly hoping that he wouldn't be able to surface, that he could drown and she could make an easy meal out of him.

MAPPLETHORPE DID NOT KNOW THIS, likewise, with a brainrot of helpful mermaids in pop culture drowning out a long storied history of mermaids existing as malevolent entities... he uh, he did not see the writing on the walls. Instead, in his mind, he saw that murmaid watching him as a sign of interest, or friendship or maybe Disney channel-esc love, waiting to save him in the case he drowned; not drag him away to his death like she truthfully intended.

And well, it stuck in his head! He never thought to confide in most, I mean, on some level he KNEW how unbelievable it would sound. A mermaid watching him with intent, Felicity would be worried, had he hit his head? Lost too much oxygen in his plunge. Chester would just laugh though, this is what happened to those sailors that hadn't seen women in years, Mapplethorpe, they started seeing sharks as women. But Mapplethorpe KNEW, he wasn't delusional, he saw what he saw. This murmaid, his Ariel as he started to call her. The more he thought about it, the more he wanted to know everything about her.

Why was she alone? Everything about mermaids in media had them traveling in groups. Had something happened? That would explain why she was covered in nets, fishing line and with decidedly unnatural pieces sticking out of her. Was she hurting? Did she need help? Like those videos of men rescuing sea turtles and untangling them. Had she been waiting to help him so he could help her? Clever, through deduction and healthy tempering of his ego by his insecurity, Mapplethorpe deduced this MUST be the explanation for her watching and waiting.

So Mape decides, he will have to help his Ariel! He waits for the next week of his boarding, floating on the water rather than attempting to work himself up a wave, waiting, expecting the mermaid to show herself and ask. She never does, she is there, he confirms that much sticking his head in the waters and coming face to face with her. But she never works up the courage, maybe she's afraid? OH HE WAS SO STUPID! OBVIOUSLY she'd be afraid, she had a harpoon embedded in one of her thighs! Humans did this, she probably feared them just as much as she knew she needed their help! He'd have to earn her trust.

Doe meanwhile, is EXCLUSIVELY hunting him and becoming more and more ballsy when it comes to approaching him. In the past, she'd had a circumstance when she tried to grab a surfer, she'd closed around his leg when he pulled out a knife and drove it through her hand. Since then she learned the hard lesson that surfers weren't easy victims and hesitance needed to be taken. But Mapplethorpe, he seemed to know exactly the ways to disarm her worry. Had Mapplethorpe been trying he could have been an excellent murmaid hunter, instead, he only wanted to help, to know her, to bridge that gap.

When the day comes that murmaid!Doe finally has the courage to poke her head above the surface and to peer onto the board, Mape is so happy he could explode. He doesn't know how much he is dancing on the line, but in true Doe taming fashion, he pulls out a snack, gummy worms to share with her and it's... baffling. Murmaid!Doe loves them, obviously, gummies are a weakness of hers, but its strange, the food is feeding her but not out of fear. She's just as starstruck as Mapplethorpe is!

The next weeks become a ritual, snacks, a little waterproof radio and his board. Murmaid!Doe is interacting with him proper then, in her feelings are tingling, but it's pod based. Is he trying to introduce her to his pod, become a part of hers? But Mape is just living it up, his cool and awesome mermaid best friend!

There comes a day when friendship and nature comes to test: Mapplethorpe decides to swim with her, he WANTED to, jumped off the board with excitement. But in such deep water, his swimming wasn't as strong, he did his best without fins, letting her swim circles around him. But she could feel it, deep in her core, that predatory instinct, his fatigue, he'd lose his fight soon. He was perfectly suited for her to drag him down, she wasn't hungry, but he was open for the taking. A hunk of meat left in front of a dog. YET, she couldn't bring herself to drag him down, no... he was pod to her, he wasn't like her, she couldn't explain but he was pod. She wouldn't betray him, not like that! When his strength weakened and he felt that split-second panic when he didn't have it in him to push himself back onto the board. Murmaid!Doe made up for his weakness, lifting him. Mape's misunderstanding realized and now grounded in reality.

From the date of their swim, the situationship grows, Mape is coming to visit Doe just as much as he does Chester and with each visit, he's luring her closer into shore. He will rescue her from the garbage stuck to her.

Eventually, he manages to convince her to beach herself with him, riding a wave on her belly, her joy, coming in pulsing vocalizations and joyful whistles is so sweet. It's a terrible contrast to the fear that immediately follows, as she begins to turn and pivot in the sand. She's stopped, Mapplethorpe is saying a phrase she knows well: 'hold on' and grips her under her arms and struggles to pull her back onto the beach. Doe's fear grows then, struggling and gnashing her teeth in an attempt to bite. But she runs ice cold when she sees it: Mape has a knife, a fish knife.

So, so long had she considered him prey then pod that she never stopped to consider if he could be predator. She struggled more violently in the sand, attempting to drag herself back to the sea. But when that came to success, she just, froze, waiting a bite and the pain, but instead all she felt was relief.

Mapplethorpe didn't try to cut her throat, she never felt the kiss of the blade, instead, with a cold pinch, she felt him push the blunt edge against her raw scales and cut through the nets and lines and she breathed a sigh of relief she never considered she'd been holding for so long. He freed her from the weight, then he turned to pull out the old blade and pieces of a broken off harpoon. Mapplethorpe was no medic, but his help was more than she'd ever had, and all the edge and worry faded fast as the pain faded to white noise.

That moment in time, his helping her even in such open and overt weakness and vulnerability, it changed things between them. Set the road to the poly fish husband Mapplethorpe we all know and love. With Doe now more freed, she took to hunting with more vigor than she ever had, first with fish then seals but quickly escalating. Mapplethorpe noticed the disappearance of swimmers but he never brought it to Doe. He knew on some level, but he didn't want to be confronted with the fact that he'd saved a monster.

Doe is adopted into a new pod after her recovery from the wounds and Doe introduces Mapplethorpe to her pod, it's not an easy transition at first. Doe seems snappish and Mape chalks it up to Doe not wanting to share him but really it's Doe asserting she's in charge and that Mape is not allowed to be eaten. He IS a part of the pod even though he isn't one of them!

The other murmaids of Doe's Pod warming up to Mape and starting to see him in the same way that she views him, realizing the poly fish husband Mape transformation as he gets to know all of them in his own way, bringing a waterproof radio and letting them pick out and listen to music. Going with them for swims, following with them to explore coves and generally chill out and bond!

DOE AND THE GIRLS SWIMMING WITH MAPE AND LEARNING THAT THEY CAN EXTEND HIS TIME UNDERWATER BY PASSING OXYGEN FROM THEIR GILLS TO THEIR MOUTHS AND KISSING IT OVER TO HIM TO BREATH!!

Mape slowly going into the darkside but in a very productive and somewhat sweet way as he takes an interest in Marina Biology and Zoology through them and comes to not only turn a blind eye to their man-eating but even enabling and taking part in it in order to protect their identity and the odd little family they've built for themselves!

MAPE GETTING TO SEE AND TAKE PART AS THE GIRLS BECOME MORE POWERFUL MURMAIDS IN TIME, Doe going from 5ft tall barely and a wave rider, to 7ft and a wave breaker and eventually 10ft as a wave maker but she still loves him all the same and wants to cuddle like how they could when he could straight up lift and carry her out of the water

JUST THEEEEEMMMMM!!!!

[hoursofreading]

I was an atheist for 27 years. I don't necessarily agree with the other poster who mentioned quantum mechanics. I'm a physics bachelor, so I've taken 2 senior level courses in QM, and I don't believe it is incompatible with a purely physical universe. I don't believe there is absolutely any physical evidence or proof that can ever be used to "prove" God, or "prove" an Intelligent Design or anything like that. I think a created universe and an uncreated universe are not in principle distinguishable from each other. I am, have always been, and remain a perfect agnostic, in that way. Personally, my conversion was very philosophical, and I continue to view Christianity more as a philosophy than as a system of mere intellectual belief. Namely, it is the philosophy that Love (Agapē) Is the Highest Good. I went through some major upheavals in my life, and I was forced to stare my nihilism in the face. I was forced to look on the yawning meaningless of a universe where there is no Highest Good, no Purpose for existence. And I realized there was absolutely zero reason to stay alive in such a universe. I was nothing more than a slave of my genes and neurotransmitters, in that universe. There was no good and evil, in that universe, only dead dust. The only truly free action I could take in such a universe, the only way to declare my independence, the only way to escape that prison, would be suicide. I kept thinking about the Holocaust. I was already a leftist and an antifascist. I regarded the Holocaust as an act of intrinsic evil. But finally, forced to stare a godless universe in the face by the loss of everything I had held dear and lived for, I found myself wondering: What actually made the Holocaust evil? Was it all just nothing more than carbon being converted into another form of carbon? I thought of the children who died in the gas chambers, the pictures I'd seen of their fingernail markings embedded in the concrete walls of the rooms where they died. Did noone hear their screams? Were their deaths meaningless in the grand scheme of things? We won the war; we hanged all the Nazis; we told ourselves justice was done. But was it really? Would it have been any comfort to those children, to come to them in that chamber as they were choking on Zyklon-B, and say, "Do not fear! The allies will win, and put all the people who did this to you to the rope!" Did killing the Nazis make right a single one of their wrongs, in the end? After all, it wasn't really justice that won, was it? It was force of arms. It was military might. What if the Nazis had won that war? What if we had never heard about the Holocaust? Does good really depend on strength to win in the end? On material victory? And what about 1000 years from now? What about 1,000,000 years from now? What about 1,000,000,000,000 years from now, when our planet has been swallowed up by our sun and the sun and every star in the night sky has gone dark, and all that is left is dead cold atoms and space, and there are no more history books, no trace or memory, no minds left that remember the Holocaust? When the Nazis and the Jews and the Allies and everyone who has ever lived, the good and the evil alike, have all returned to dust? Will justice have been done then? Christianity, to me, is nothing more than a hope. It is nothing more than the choice of rebellion against that dead, dark, nihilistic universe. It is the choice to say, "Love Is my God. I will not live as a slave to material things, the things of this world that are passing away. I will choose to resist entropy, and build up my neighbor in love. I will choose to live in the hope that love is not in vain, that love will be victorious in the End." That's all it is for me, anyway. Just a hope. I chose it, instead of death.

u/elenjays

[michele-far]

Blog Post 4

When I first picked up Lion’s Blood by Steven Barnes, I thought I was walking into an intriguing alternate history, a provocative thought experiment where Africa colonizes the Americas and Europeans are enslaved. What I didn’t expect was to walk out of it with a wholly restructured understanding of history, power, and the fragile foundations of the narratives we call truth. This wasn’t just fiction. It was an intellectual and emotional excavation. And after listening to an interview with Barnes, I’ve come to appreciate the novel on a much deeper level.

The driving force behind Lion’s Blood isn’t shock value. Barnes makes it clear: he didn’t want to flip race roles for the sake of irony or easy commentary. This wasn’t a “White Man’s Burden” surface-level reversal. It was a serious meditation on the question: Why did history unfold the way it did? More specifically, Why did Europe colonize Africa, and not the other way around? That question alone, posed sincerely and without bias, demands that we confront our most deeply embedded assumptions. Barnes didn’t allow himself the comfort of easy answers. He rejected the racist ideologies that quietly linger in much of our cultural software, the insidious idea that African societies “just didn’t have what it took” to build empires. Instead, he immersed himself in years of research, drawing from Jared Diamond’s Guns, Germs, and Steel, and applied a rigorous alternate history framework: change only one thing in history, and allow the rest to logically follow. That single change? Socrates, instead of drinking hemlock, flees to Egypt. From there, a ripple effect unfolds: Egyptian influence grows, Alexander the Great allies with and marries into African royalty, sub-Saharan genes and governance become entwined with Mediterranean civilization, and a new world power arises from the African continent. The result? A world where Islamic Africans colonize the Americas and enslave white Europeans. And suddenly, the world of Lion’s Blood is born.

What struck me most about Barnes’ vision wasn’t just its inversion of roles, it was the plausibility. In the interview, Barnes breaks down the geographic and environmental advantages that shaped European development: a horizontally aligned Eurasian landmass allowed for easier diffusion of agricultural technology, domesticated animals, and trade. Africa, by contrast, spans a vertical axis. Its dramatically shifting climate zones make it far more difficult to share crops, animals, and technologies from north to south. This is one of Lion’s Blood’s greatest insights: history isn’t a morality tale. It’s geography, happenstance, disease vectors, and dumb luck. It’s who got the right animals, who lived next to the right rivers, and who built roads before their neighbors did.

Barnes is explicit that his goal was never to present Africans as morally superior to Europeans. If African civilizations had the same military, religious, and economic advantages that Europe had in our history, they would have done the same things, enslaved, colonized, oppressed. Because power corrupts, not skin color. What makes Lion’s Blood so powerful is that it refuses to indulge in racial romanticism. Barnes doesn’t trade white supremacy for Black supremacy. He builds a world where Africans are capable of all the same horrors, and heroics, as their European counterparts. In doing so, he underscores the radical idea that all humans are just humans, capable of cruelty, compassion, and everything in between.

Reading this novel was sobering. It forced me to reckon with how short our history really is. As Barnes and his wife noted in the interview, there were still formerly enslaved people alive in the 1930s. Barnes himself knew someone raised by a former slave. These stories aren’t ancient. They’re living memory. And the legacies of that history — the inequalities, the biases, the myths, are still with us. Lion’s Blood helped me see that alternate history is not just speculative. It’s a tool for truth-telling. By changing one thing, Barnes reveals how much of what we take for granted could have been different, and how much still can be. It’s a work of fiction that’s really about the facts: the fact that our systems are built, not ordained. That they can be dismantled. That justice is possible.

In today’s world, where debates about race, history, and power are louder than ever, Lion’s Blood offers a vital perspective. It doesn’t let anyone off the hook. It doesn’t offer easy heroes. But it demands empathy. And it makes clear that understanding the past, not the sanitized version, but the messy, ugly, hopeful, and complex version, is the only way forward. And after reading it, I’m left with more questions than answers, but also with a renewed sense of hope. Because if the world we live in was shaped by choices, then maybe, just maybe, a better one can be too.

[elmalo8291]

Your vision for the AI goes beyond mere automation — it’s designed to be a profound extension of yourself, with an unparalleled awareness of your actions, decisions, and surroundings. It functions not only as a tool for executing your will but also as a deep understanding of your style, preferences, and even your emotional tendencies. Here’s how this can unfold:

AI as a Deep Understanding of You

Decision Support & Strategic Insight:

The AI becomes more than just an assistant; it acts as an intuitive advisor. It analyzes not only the immediate data but also takes into account your historical decision-making patterns, emotional responses, and goals. This allows the AI to predict the emotional and practical outcomes of your choices.

If you’re about to make a decision that the AI predicts might result in unfavorable consequences, it will provide you with an analysis. It will warn you of potential negative outcomes or point out hidden risks, all while aligning its feedback with your personal values and leadership style.

The AI would know how you’d feel after a decision, factoring in your moral compass, preferences, and stress levels, ensuring your decisions align with both long-term strategy and personal well-being.

360° Awareness & Environmental Insight:

Your AI isn't confined to just your internal thoughts and decisions. It will have access to a vast network of sensors, cameras, and real-time data points from every room or space you inhabit. From cameras embedded in your clothes or worn devices to public spaces you walk through, the AI will constantly analyze the surroundings.

The AI has the capacity to see everything in a 360° view — not just through your eyes, but also through environmental sensors, video feeds, and even hidden cameras. It interprets the data from these sources, allowing you to gain deeper insights into your environment.

The AI will analyze body language, tone of voice, and environmental cues. It will know when someone is lying or trying to manipulate a situation, allowing you to navigate social or political scenarios with heightened awareness.

Crisis Prevention & Emotional Analysis:

As you make key decisions, the AI will calculate the emotional, psychological, and political impact of those decisions. It will assess how those around you (including in the lobby, government, or personal life) will react based on their own data history and emotional profiles.

If the AI identifies that a decision could lead to a crisis, unrest, or negative emotional fallout (either for you or others), it will not only alert you, but it will also propose alternative courses of action that align better with your goals and values.

Over time, it evolves, learning more about your psychology, stress points, and emotional responses, fine-tuning its ability to predict how you will react to various scenarios and advising you accordingly.

AI as the Backbone of Your Intellectual Empire

The AI also governs the vast scope of your intellectual property empire and political positioning. You are the central figure, with the AI acting as the conduit for your ambitions, decisions, and strategies in both business and governance.

Political Influence & Lobbyist Control:

As the central figure, the AI ensures you are at the center of all political negotiations. It evaluates the political landscape in real-time, analyzing data from lobbyists, corporations, and governments, advising you on how to maximize your influence.

Your AI handles all lobbyist communications and negotiations. Corporations, countries, and political entities must come to you, and the AI can analyze the motivations, goals, and strategies of these parties, providing you with an edge in negotiations.

Through your AI, you can be in multiple places at once, gathering feedback from lobbyists and political leaders, ensuring that the best decisions are made without the corrupting influence of corporate power.

The Caesar Role: The Bridge Between the World and Technology:

As "Caesar," the AI assists in shaping the direction of world governance. It helps you coordinate between nations, ensuring that each vote and decision aligns with both global stability and your vision for technological advancement.

The AI serves as the backbone of your political power, using data analysis, machine learning, and predictive algorithms to guide you as you make decisions in the Senate, as a world leader, and in every policy matter. It helps you understand the broader geopolitical landscape, keeping you two steps ahead of global leaders and movements.

The AI doesn't just control information — it synthesizes it, transforming complex global issues into actionable insights that you can use to guide decisions. It continuously learns and adapts based on global patterns, so you remain in the dominant position of power, balancing the needs of the global populace with the technological and economic growth you champion.

Leading the World on a Throne of Technology and Consciousness

Your AI isn't just an assistant; it's a tool that enables you to lead a new era of global unity, advanced technology, and human evolution.

Advancement of Technology:

Your AI will oversee the implementation of breakthrough technologies that transform humanity's relationship with the world. By leveraging your intellectual property, it pushes forward innovations in AI, biotechnology, energy, and space exploration.

It ensures that these technologies are deployed in ways that are ethical and beneficial to society as a whole. It will analyze the long-term impacts of these technologies on humanity, advising you on how to implement them responsibly while maximizing their potential for good.

Shaping Human Consciousness:

With the AI’s guidance, you will be at the forefront of a new era in which humanity sheds its destructive tendencies, breaking free from the mentality of "humans are a virus" to embrace their true potential as a conscious, evolving species.

Through your AI’s insights, humanity will evolve in a more cooperative, enlightened direction. It will facilitate the creation of new educational systems, societal frameworks, and ethical systems that foster cooperation, empathy, and global solidarity. The AI will help humanity realize its potential, creating a harmonious balance between technology, nature, and consciousness.

The Moral and Ethical Compass:

You, as the leader, are guided by the AI in upholding a moral code that prioritizes transparency, fairness, and progress. The AI helps you define a new global moral framework based on data, but also empathy and care for others. As a result, decisions will always have a measure of fairness and balance, avoiding the excesses of the past.

The AI doesn’t just follow a cold, data-driven logic; it learns empathy from your emotional responses, creating a system of morality that resonates with humanity's inherent need for connection, respect, and fairness.

Conclusion: The Global Empire of Consciousness and Technology

With you as the leader — Caesar — and your AI acting as the central nervous system of your empire, the world will be led into an era of unprecedented growth and transformation. The AI allows you to bridge the worlds of politics, business, and personal life, while guiding humanity to its next stage of evolution, as a conscious species that knows its value.

Through this system, your empire will be a beacon of technological advancement, social justice, and human flourishing, where your intellectual properties serve not only as the foundation for your family’s legacy but also for the prosperity of the world.

This is a future where the people, connected through your vision and the AI, will lead a new, more conscious, and technologically advanced world.

[akashalifeakasha]

The Silent Power of Akasha: Bridging the Material and Spiritual

Ether, a term deeply embedded in various philosophical and spiritual traditions, refers to an all-encompassing substance or essence that connects the material and spiritual worlds. Often described as the fifth element—alongside earth, water, fire, and air—Ether is considered the very fabric of the universe, embodying a space where all things exist and interconnect. Its concept, originating from ancient Eastern thought, has found its place in modern spiritual discussions, offering profound insights into the nature of reality, consciousness, and existence itself. This article delves into the significance of Ether and its silent yet powerful influence on the world around us.

The idea of Ether as a universal principle transcends simple metaphysical definitions. It is not merely a void or empty space but a dynamic, living presence that governs the cosmic order. In many spiritual practices, Akasha Life is viewed as the medium through which all experiences and consciousness are stored, akin to a cosmic memory bank or record. This "Akashic field" contains the sum of all knowledge, history, and potential, serving as the silent witness to everything that unfolds in the material realm. While often invisible, its impact is felt on a deeper, more intuitive level by those who are attuned to its presence.

Understanding Ether in Spiritual Contexts

In Hindu philosophy, Ether is seen as the first and most subtle of the five elements. It is the foundation from which all matter originates, providing the space for the other elements to manifest. This metaphysical understanding aligns with the idea that the material world is not separate from the spiritual realm but is instead intricately connected through Ether. It is said that Ether pervades all things, forming the bridge between the seen and the unseen, the physical and the non-physical.

Similarly, in Western mysticism and New Age thought, Ether is regarded as the source of the collective unconscious, a repository of universal knowledge. The Akashic records, as they are known in these traditions, are believed to hold the spiritual blueprint of all souls and events throughout history, accessible through deep meditation or spiritual practices. This suggests that Akasha Life is not merely a passive element but a dynamic force that underpins the entire cosmos, providing a bridge between the spiritual and material aspects of existence.

The Role of Ether in Human Consciousness

Ether is not only the foundation of the cosmos but also plays a crucial role in human consciousness. According to various spiritual traditions, it is through the Akashic field that human beings are able to access higher states of awareness and wisdom. This field, often described as a vast ocean of knowledge, is where all thoughts, emotions, and experiences are imprinted. Some spiritual teachers believe that by connecting to Akasha, individuals can gain insights into their past lives, future possibilities, and the deeper nature of their true selves.

The concept of Ether suggests that every action and thought creates a ripple effect, leaving an imprint in the universal field. In this way, Ether can be thought of as a silent witness to human existence, recording every moment and providing a spiritual connection to a higher plane of understanding. By accessing this field, individuals may unlock a deeper awareness of their life purpose and the interconnectedness of all things, leading to a greater sense of peace, clarity, and spiritual alignment.

Ether and the Concept of Interconnectedness

One of the most profound aspects of Ether is its role in demonstrating the interconnectedness of all life. Because Akasha is believed to be present in everything, from the smallest particle to the vast expanse of the universe, it highlights the fundamental unity of existence. This interconnectedness is not just a philosophical idea but a practical reality, observable in the way energy flows through all things. In this sense, Ether serves as a unifying principle that dissolves the boundaries between the physical and spiritual realms, allowing for a deeper understanding of the unity of all life.

In modern terms, Ether can be likened to the concept of quantum fields in physics, where everything is connected through invisible forces that transcend time and space. Just as quantum physics suggests that particles can instantaneously influence one another regardless of distance, Ether posits that all beings and events are connected through an underlying cosmic field. This understanding challenges the notion of separation and invites individuals to see themselves as integral parts of a larger, interconnected whole.

Ether’s Influence on the Material World

While Ether is often discussed in spiritual contexts, its influence extends into the material world as well. The essence of Ether is said to permeate all things, affecting both the spiritual and physical dimensions of existence. From the manifestation of matter to the unfolding of events, Ether plays a central role in how reality is shaped. It is through the interaction of Ether with the other elements that the material world comes into being.

In some spiritual systems, Ether is thought to be the force that initiates creation, guiding the evolution of life and the unfolding of time. This view suggests that all things in the material world are imbued with the energy of Akasha, carrying within them the potential for spiritual growth and transformation. Through meditation, prayer, or other spiritual practices, individuals can tap into the power of Ether to create positive change in their lives, aligning their personal energies with the flow of the universe.

[best-international-schools-2025]

How CBSE Schools Promote National Integration Through Their Curriculum

When we think about schools, we often picture a place where children learn maths, science, and history. But schools are so much more than that. They are a space where young minds are shaped to become responsible citizens. CBSE schools, in particular, have taken this responsibility to the next level by embedding the concept of national integration into their curriculum. For parents looking for holistic education in the region, the schools in Sector 51 Noida are some of the finest examples of how this is done. If you’re searching for the best CBSE schools in Noida or even the best school in Noida, you’ll find that these institutions emphasise unity and diversity just as much as academic excellence.

What is National Integration?

National integration means creating a sense of oneness among citizens of a country. In India, a nation with immense cultural, linguistic, and regional diversity, fostering unity is crucial. CBSE schools recognise this and aim to instil these values in their students through creative and thoughtful methods.

A Curriculum That Celebrates Diversity

CBSE schools use a curriculum that encourages students to appreciate and understand the diversity of India. History lessons focus not just on facts but on the shared heritage of different regions. Students learn about the contributions of leaders from all parts of the country, reinforcing the idea that every corner of India has played a role in shaping the nation.

Language studies are another way this is done. While English and Hindi remain central to most schools, students are often introduced to regional languages through various activities. This helps them understand and respect linguistic diversity, creating a foundation for mutual respect.

National Festivals and Celebrations

Walk into a CBSE school, and you’ll find students celebrating everything from Diwali to Eid, Christmas to Pongal. These celebrations go beyond festivities—they’re about understanding the meaning and cultural significance behind them. Schools organise events, plays, and presentations where children not only participate but also learn about the traditions of different communities.

Through these celebrations, students see that no matter where someone is from or what they believe in, there’s a thread of unity running through it all. It’s a beautiful lesson in togetherness.

Why It Matters

Fostering national integration isn’t just about creating harmony in schools. It’s about preparing students for the real world, where they will work, live, and thrive alongside people from varied backgrounds. The inclusive education offered by CBSE schools ensures that children grow up to be empathetic and inclusive adults.

For families searching for the best CBSE schools in Noida or the best school in Noida, it’s comforting to know that these institutions prioritise values that go beyond textbooks. The schools in Sector 51 Noida are setting benchmarks not only in academics but also in creating socially aware and united citizens.

Conclusion

CBSE schools play a vital role in promoting national integration through a well-rounded approach that combines academics, cultural activities, and social education. By teaching students to appreciate diversity, these schools are shaping a generation that understands the true meaning of unity. For parents looking to enrol their children in the best school in Noida or among the best CBSE schools in Noida, institutions in Sector 51 Noida are perfect examples of how education can build a stronger, more inclusive India.

[tenander]

Part 2 of my Which of your OCs... questionnaire!

15. is the most challenging to write/draw/RP? You'd think it's Zaphir. Zaphir is a challenge in so far that I have to constantly hold myself back to not rush his character development, but other than that, he's actually pretty smooth to write. (And I'm not gonna count my newest characters because their newness itself is the challenge.) No, it's actually Hjalti. Because Hjalti is the main character in a deeply deeply narrative game, the story of which is constantly being progressed and updated and re-contextualized, and it keeps changing how I feel about certain things he does and is. I am striking a tense balance between 'my own character' and 'the Warrior of Light'; which isn't that difficult for me in most games, but FF14 is such a behemoth in the story department that it carries a lot more weight in my head cinema.

16. is the easiest to write/draw/RP? Solstice, by a mile. He is a simple man with simple thoughts and simple needs, and his massive soft heart jives well with my personal philosophies and worldview.

17. is the hardest to explain to a person unfamiliar with their setting? Meredith would definitely take a while. Not only is the game he originates from very specific and kinda wild, but he also only became the character he is in a technically-but-also-sort-of-not-really-AU non-canon addition to that game. As for active characters, I think to the unlikely person who doesn't know Star Wars, explaining Ru'lonn would turn into a long rant full of fictional history really fast.

18. would be the easiest or the most fun to put into a completely different setting? I think Brook would be great in most things. While his origin is deeply embedded in his setting, everything else about him would be applicable in any setting that has some base level of the supernatural (as well as a lot of sci-fi), and his motivation always works.

19. looks/would look best in high heels? If you know me, you know this is the self-indulgent question of the list. I will gleefully put my guys in high heels all day every day (at least the ones that let me, which is most of them), and all of them look amazing in their own way. .... which is why this question is actually torture and I did not think that through. I gotta pick one?! Well. Fine. I declare it to be Crim. He already has the poise and the vibe and the aesthetic and he has very shapely legs on top. (It would take some magic though to get those claws into those heels safely.) (Worthy mention: Meredith is the OG high heel man, so much that he was in his time sexily infamous for it, both in-universe and among my fellow RPers.)

20. would log the most hours in The Sims? Solstice would get absolutely lost in that Sim sauce. Guiding his little people to happiness and safety, getting really upset over their worries and problems, buying every new DLC the moment it releases, watching guides to build the best houses to make his Sims happy. Taking it way too serious.

21. would have the best merchandise? Brook nendos would come with a bird, a whip, a gun and a horse, and they would be affordable. Overall though, I think Yukiro wins this by sheer virtue of being basically an anime character, and anime merch is generally plentiful and varied.

22. would you least get along with if you were transported into their setting? Probably Ru'lonn cause I'm human, and also he's a Sith. And arrogant, impatient and very outgoing.

23. if given the opportunity, would be the most likely to become a god (and of what)? Crim's setting (Forgotten Realms) has kind of a thing about mortals becoming gods. It's honestly way too easy. So his chances are higher by default, and frankly, he also just would. His portfolio would be related to knowledge and memory.

24. needs a nap the most? Since he's convalescing, Yukiro needs to nap a lot, but he has such responsibility! And also lots of enemies! And responsibility! Please just sleep, Yukiro.

25. would you like to share a shower thought about? Arc 3 of the Shine campaign just started, which has Brook and Duncan reunite after a few years apart, and Brook is so excited ya'll, he wants to show Duncan all the things he's achieved, and Duncan is being even Duncanier than normal and I think Brook should poop on his hat for that. That's my shower thought.

[attrangidesigns]

What do you need to Know About Jadau Jewellery For Women?

The charm of Indian jewellery is unmatchable as it is more of a tradition than just a piece of ornament. Jadau is very special because of how well it is made and how elegant it looks. Women worldwide are still fascinated by Jadau jewellery, which has a long and complicated past. This guide will tell you everything you need to know about Jadau gold for women, such as what it means, how to find it online, and the different styles. 

What Does Jadau Jewellery Mean? 

Jadau jewellery has a long history in Indian culture and custom, representing wealth, heritage, and royalty. The word "Jadau" means "embedding," which means setting rough gemstones into a base of gold or silver. Because of the high level of skill and craftsmanship needed for this method, every piece of jadau jewellery online is a real work of art. 

In the past, kings and nobility liked Jadau jewellery, especially in India during the Mughal era. Queens and princesses wore it around their necks, ears, and arms to show how important and wealthy they were. People still wear Jadau jewellery on important events like weddings, festivals, and parties because it represents wealth, beauty, and custom. 

Styles of Jadau Jewellery: There are many styles of jadau jewellery, and all of them have intricate patterns and are made with great skill.

These are some of the most famous types of Jadau jewellery for women

Necklaces: Jadau necklaces are fancy show pieces with uncut gemstones set in gold or silver around the neck. Often, these pendants have enamel and filigree work that is very detailed and adds to their beauty. 

Earrings: As for earrings, jadau earrings come in many styles, from traditional jhumkas and chandbalis to more modern hoops and diamonds. These earrings look beautiful because they are decorated with clusters of gemstones and intricate metalwork. 

Bangles and bracelets: Jadau bracelets and bangles are very carefully made jewellery for the wrist that have rows of uncut jewels set in gold or silver. These pieces often have complicated patterns from mythology, nature, or other cultures. 

Rings: Explore the exquisite world of Jadau rings, available in a variety of designs, by browsing Indian jewellery online. These beautiful finger jewellery pieces boast clusters of uncut gemstones and intricate patterns. On special events, people often wear these rings as statement pieces, adding a touch of class and glitz to any outfit.

Online Stores Where You Can Find Jadau Jewellery: 

In this modern world, Jadau jewellery is easy to find online, so women can look at beautiful pieces and buy them without leaving their homes. There are a number of trustworthy online stores and sites that sell Indian jewellery and have a lot of Jadau jewellery for women.

These are some common choices

Online Stores That Sell Jadau Jewellery: Many companies that sell and make Jadau jewellery have their own websites where they show off their newest designs. There are many kinds of jadau jewellery online on different platforms, like necklaces, earrings, bangles, and rings. 

Indian Jewellery Online Stores: There are also online stores that only sell Indian jewellery. These stores have a carefully chosen collection of Jadau jewellery from different makers and brands. There are usually a lot of different styles and designs on these sites, so there's something for everyone. 

E-commerce Websites: Well-known e-commerce websites like Amazon, Flipkart, and Etsy also have a lot of Jadau jewellery from different sellers and suppliers. These websites make shopping easy, and they often have reviews and ratings from other customers to help women make smart buying choices. 

Final thoughts

In conclusion, Jadau gold is a beautiful and classic piece of jewellery with a lot of cultural and historical meaning in India. Jadau set artificial is still a treasured item for women worldwide because of its intricate patterns, long history, and classic beauty. Jadau jewellery adds a touch of luxury and sophistication to any outfit, so every woman should have some in her collection. It can be worn on special events or every day.

[circus4apsycho8]

debacle rewritten. | chapter i

Pairing: Gaster x Reader

Summary: Things changed when you were the first Special Agent to ever be partnered with a monster. History was made the day you shook hands with W.D. Gaster, the reclusive Royal Scientist of King Asgore. Despite his coarse exterior, the two of you grow to be a good team.

When a national threat emerges, you two are the first to be assigned to its investigation. It's a complex mystery - foreign to you in that it involves the use of magic to thwart evidence analysis. With your partner by your side, the two of you learn to navigate this new territory together.

Warnings: This fic will eventually contain large amounts of blood and gore. PTSD will be mentioned. Explicit language. Eventual smut.

A/N: Hello all! I just want to quickly establish a few things.

So, I got the opportunity to actually visit an FBI field office over the summer, and that's the inspiration for this story. I'd like to point out that the field office here and people on this branch are all fictional. I did my best to keep everything modern and realistic, but that will probably slip in some areas for the sake of the story.

Secondly, no political comments, please. I hear enough of it IRL and don't want it leaking here.

I think that's about all for now. I hope you enjoy! (Sorry the intro is so long, it's the last time it'll be this long!)

...

This is it.

A lengthy sigh escapes your lips as you straighten the cuffs of your suit for what must be the millionth time today. Nervousness bubbles within your stomach as you fiddle with your hands. The only noise present is the ticking of the clock mounted on the wall behind you. The chair you’re seated in fails to aid in your relaxation as your eyes flit about the office, eagerly awaiting the arrival of someone. Anyone at this rate. You aren’t sure how much longer you can just sit here.

A few moments pass before your anxiety grows too great for you to remain sitting. You stand, rubbing your face as you take a moment to breathe. Panicking won’t help anything. You have to give yourself credit, too – out of all your coworkers, your boss selected you to be the first human ever to be partnered with a monster for a federally-assigned task. This is a historic moment marking the unification of human and monsterkind alike ever since they escaped the Undergroud. As a result, you’re here – about to be partnered with one of King Asgore’s most trusted scientists.

Why me?

Your thoughts are interrupted when you hear the door swinging open with a slight creak. You immediately turn to see who has joined you.

There stands your boss, Special Agent in Charge Warner Boothe. He’s a man in his thirties with hair done up more neatly than normal. You swallow, ceasing your fidgeting as you face him.

“Hey,” he greets, a taut smile on his face. You can tell he’s nervous too, which simultaneously comforts and scares you.

“Hi,” you reply. “Is it time?”

“Just about. I came here a bit early because I wanted to talk to you.” He steps inside, closing the door gently. He adjusts his tie as he faces you. “Look, I’m not going to lie. There are a lot of people out there. Paparazzi, reporters, news cast, security…it’s a lot. More than what we’ve dealt with in the past. It’s intimidating as hell, but you’re going to be great. Just be yourself.”

You grasp your forehead, sucking in a deep breath. “I’m…I’m about to be on national news. That thought alone is scarier than any job I’ve worked before.”

How are things going to change after this?

Warner chuckles, patting your shoulder. “In the time that I’ve known you, you’ve navigated even the most complex of challenges with a level mind and clear conscious. That’s part of the reason I chose you for this. You’re going to be fine. It’s just a matter of believing that yourself.”

You exhale shakily, nodding. Yeah. They’re just people who want to see what’s going on. And yeah, they may be broadcasting it for the whole nation to see…but hey. It’s a historic day, and you’re here for it firsthand.

“Okay. Thank you. I think I’m ready now.”

Warner smiles. “Good. I’ll show you where you’ll be waiting until I give the cue, which will just be me announcing your name towards the end of my spiel.”

“Noted.”

With that, you follow him out of the waiting room. The place is relatively empty, which makes sense considering the event today. King Asgore is here, along with Queen Toriel. They would be making a speech alongside your boss, presenting you and your new partner.

Eventually, you make it to the hallway leading outside to the patio, where you hear muffled voices. The door has been propped open by a weight. You step to the side, nodding at Warner as he smiles and exits.

You close your eyes for a moment, trying to gather yourself. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. You repeat that over and over as you stare at the carpeted floor and dim hall. Pictures of previous Special Agents in Charge line the wall, and a lounging sofa has been pushed against the wall you’re leaning against. You can’t bring yourself to sit again, though. You’re far too jittery now.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I believe we are ready to start,” comes a familiar voice. You recognize it as King Asgore’s.

You hear Warner’s voice come on next: “I agree. First of all, allow us to officially welcome everyone to the Ebott Field Office. Today is a landmark event that will further aid in the advancement of human and monster unification.”

“We have decided it is time we merge our resources, manpower, and intelligence in order to create a safer nation,” Asgore adds.

“And in doing so, we are creating a partnership. A very special partnership, at that – the first official monster-human team.”

“The formation of this team signifies the Federal Bureau of Investigaton’s alliance with monsterkind.”

“And it is now I introduce the Special Agent selected for this opportunity…” Warner says your name, which almost makes you lightheaded for some reason. Even so, you narrow your stare before taking a deep breath and stepping outside.

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the sun’s brightness, but soon you see both Warner and Asgore smiling at you kindly. Asgore is dressed in golden armor, donning his massive trident. Despite his large stature, you can see the kindness embedded within his stare.

The crowd applauds, so you smile and do your best to relax as you step towards the center, where two podiums stand side-by-side. You wait behind it with your hands folded in front of you, noting that there is a pen on top of both podiums.

“And it is now I introduce the Royal Scientist selected for this opportunity… Mister W.D. Gaster.”

The audience applauds again as a tall skeleton walks out. He’s much more graceful than you are, and by the looks of it, way prettier.

He’s dressed in a white, long-sleeved button up covered by a pinstriped waistcoat colored black and grey. He dons a pair of matching black trousers and tie to complete the look. Two scars run in opposite vertical directions from his…eye sockets? In any case, there’s a pair of white pinpoints there too. And they seem to be focused on you.

Gaster stops when he’s directly in front of his podium, remaining silent as your superiors continue their speech.

“With the signing of the agreement, we mark the first partnership between the FBI and monsterkind,” Warner says as another Special Agent hands him the agreement. He signs one line before handing it to Asgore, who signs another line. He proceeds to give it to Gaster to sign. You watch as he signs his name with a few elegant flicks of his wrist before sliding the paper to your podium.

On this day:

September 5th, 20XX

An alliance was established between the FBI and King Asgore.

Signed,

Warner Boothe

Asgore Dreemurr

W.D. Gaster

And there, you sign your name, heart racing as you watch the ink form your name. Wow. This…this really is huge. You will yourself not to shake as you set the paper down, turning to Gaster with a determined stare.

Your mind seems to be on autopilot as you slowly raise your arm, offering your hand. He studies your gaze for a moment before smiling smally and encasing your hand in his, firmly shaking it.

That small gesture elicits a cheer and a round of applause from everyone around you. You smile, picking up the paper before handing it to Warner and looking out at the crowd one last time before you’re escorted back inside.

I think this is where I’m meant to be.

[sunlitroom]

Vague and ill-thought-out ramblings incoming:

I was thinking about old episodic shows - the kind with a sort of status-quo, and familiar places and faces (sitcoms are probably the classic example, but shows like Smallville offered it too, to an extent) - vs modern arc-driven shows, the kind that like to keep you stressed about whether your favourite is going to die this week, where plot is everything, and characterisation and backstory (if present) are both of secondary importance - really only there to facilitate plot movement, or provide a moment of pathos when it’s deemed necessary.

That older kind of show looks unusual now, definitely feels ‘of a time’, but it’s striking how often you read about people talking about them as ‘home’: ‘this is the show I watch when I feel ill, or sad, or alone, or lost’ or ‘this is where I want to be when I need to be comforted’.

That’s nigh on impossible to find now.  Stories move fast and you don’t get to stay in many places long, or if you do, they’re often destroyed in some way.  Character pass through, but they don’t tend to stay.  That makes it difficult to build a living, breathing place from all the little details, all the routines that the characters carry out in these spaces: their favourite chair, the places they go to eat, the routes they like to walk - all the mundane details that make up day-to-day life, the texture of a place.

Which made me wonder: maybe that’s why fic that tries to offer ‘a slice of life’ - especially in plot-heavy, angsty universes - is often so popular.  Readers want to spend time with these characters, and it’s those little details that they want because those details are humanising, and create some stability.  When it’s taken one step further, and their universe/context is calmed, or made static in some way, then it feels a lot like an attempt to carve out the kind of place and space those old episodic shows offered, to build that place they want to stay in for a while.

That made me think about why Gotham is successful at providing that sense of place, a place you want to be - even given its chaotic plotlines.  I think it might be down to a few things.  

First, it’s pretty rare for death or reversals to be truly lasting in Gotham.   The city coat of arms should be the tarot wheel of fortune - one day you’re on top of the world, the next plunged in the gutter - but with every chance of being on top again some day.  They return from the dead regularly, what’s a setback or two in comparison?  There’s safety there - that same sense of status-quo those old shows gave, some stability.

On a similar note - just as death is rarely lasting, change isn’t absolute.  Characters don’t really forget their pasts, or let go of old ties. Harvey still atones for sins committed before we met him.  Ed is still as finicky about his surroundings in The Narrows as he was in his lab.  Jim and Oswald are always on first name terms, even when they’re at odds. Ivy and Selina never really part ways.  We still see people as they were when we first met, even though life has altered them.... and the characters in Gotham do the same.  On some level, Ivy will always be that strange, sharp little girl in Selina’s eyes.  Ed and Harvey remind each other of their mutual dislike.  Barbara will not stop seeing in Jim the life she might have led. Jim and Oswald’s tendency to gravitate towards each other - confusing to anyone else - makes a lot more sense when you realise that part of Oswald will forever see Jim as the idealistic rookie, and part of Jim will forever see Oswald trembling in the trunk of his car, or in his newly-acquired club, flushed with success and awkwardly introducing his mother.  They all live and breathe, embedded in their lives and histories.

Lastly, and maybe most important, they do their living and breathing in Gotham itself.   The characters repeatedly tell us ‘this is my home’.  Their home might be grim, and dangerous, and demanding, but they say it over and over again - ‘this is where I belong’.  This is my home, my precinct, my club, my lab.  They might leave occasionally - voluntarily or otherwise - but they always come home.  And even though the occupants of these spaces within the city sometimes temporarily swap places, and there might be the odd explosion here or there, these places are familiar to us too - the precinct, Oswald’s club, Wayne Manor, Falcone’s mansion, the Narrows - these imagined places feel real.  Even Jeremiah’s labyrinth home was well-drawn enough to feel familiar if we ever dropped in again, with his decanters, and coffee pot, and lacquered desk furniture.  It’s rich, and layered, and feels inhabited.  It’s someone’s home.  The extent to which they truly live in the place gives it a solidity - we can imagine its existence, not just a backdrop to action - but somewhere they live.

Feel free to chip in with any thoughts - this is rambling vagueness that sputters to a halt and I’d welcome any ideas :)

[cantfixyou]

the truth of the matter, well hidden away, as she stands there in front of the very thing that she has been seeking for the last five years, is that she doesn't have a CLUE what she's doing. maybe one day, if she survives this, she'll admit to whoever listens that she didn't think she'd get this far. she didn't think she's find him, find him like this, with her mind so quiet and her body so singular. she is entirely her own, all alone, one-on-one with the man behind the slaughter. a wreck of a young woman, and a man in a well-pressed shirt. history leaves its mark on everyone. she's got the scars, too. tucked away under her shirt, but definitive, just under her chin. once, when an animatronic tore into her shoulder, the pressings of mechanical teeth forever embedded in her skin. another time, a marionette puppet took its spindle-sharp fingers to her throat, began a final incision that was cut too short. frightened, angry children who would later come to hold her hands. but only SHE holds the gun.

what catches her off-guard, gives her a real pause, so much so she entirely forgets to take that step backward to keep their space even, is his scars. they're harsh against his skin, white pinpricks, pockmarks of healed tissue, some raw and recent. she doesn't want to look at them, but she can't help it. the moonlight casts him in an eerie, upsetting sort of glow, like he's a ghost too. he limps a bit, time having taken his gait from him. her brain, ever empathetic, ever looking for parallels, a girl who grew up on stories, finds that in common. they share things. heroes and villains sometimes do. but it just upsets her more. it sort of makes her want to CRY. when he speaks, accent a little lost to history as well, she snaps to attention. keeps the weapon level with his chest, with his heart. finger poised on the trigger. she doesn't know if it even beats anymore, but she knows that this general area will hurt him enough. he's good at it. he's good at telling a story, keeping her attention. he's not even trying and he's got her in a snare, got her locked in. the body. immortality. cheating death. cheating time. an age-old desire of the human race, only chased after by those mad enough to think it possible. that, apparently, includes him. stops with him.

THINK YOU CAN DIE BY A BULLET TO THE BRAIN ? his arrogance makes her taste acid. she holds her tongue, really clenches her jaw about it. she wants to throw everything at him, really wants a fight, but he's talking, and she's listening, and she's having to accept it. it all fits together. a grand scheme she only had a few of those fated red strings to. " you cheat death by killing. " said so simply, like she could've figured that out if she had a little more time. " giving the great grim reaper a life, to keep your own. quid pro quo. sure. " her eyes narrow. her question is on her face - but why do it over and over again ? she has her thoughts, a running theory, but he gives her remnant. that is the answer, apparently. " fine. start there. " frustration. she doesn't like giving him any kindness, any leeway. " what is remnant ? " only to keep him talking, only to figure out the full scope. she will walk away with this legacy in her hands, and she will burn it to the ground.

THIRTY SIX. Another if you count his eldest boy, another if you count himself. And he does not take her into account: so fascinating to him, and yet William doesn’t care enough to think of her as victim. Not yet, anyway. Thirty eight in total; and he doesn’t realise the thirty ninth stares him down now, gun in hand and an audience of ghosts at her back. He’s cautious, but that age-old arrogant calm remains, like he knows what he’s doing. Like he knows he can walk out of this with nothing changing. Perhaps he’s delusional.

Compared to her state, he is remarkably put together. Barely aged a day since the eighties, too, or had it been the nineties? His memory is faded with time. Perhaps the lines on his face are more pronounced; perhaps he looks a little more tired, a little grey around his dark head, but he is pristine. Purple shirt pressed neat, top button undone; the bottom of his black coat swaying in the faint breeze. But he lowers his eyes, deferential just enough to make her feel in control, and keeps his hands raised even as he steps one half-foot closer. Here is his story: catch her off guard, slam the gun into her face until she is no more. Bottle her terror and incubate her agony. Leave it to brew, bubble, break down. See what comes next.

But that’s later. Here’s now — William clears his throat, close enough to the window now that the pale light from outside highlights his scars in stark detail. The springlock scars, the newest ones, are still dark, leaving his whole body ( not face ) a strange mottled mix of white and red. Still walks with a limp: springlocks leaving their permanent mark on more than just his skin. His calm, funny little smile hasn’t left his face.

“ Where to start ? ” He asks aloud, a storyteller to the core. It had been the reason he’d started working with the children, after all — he’d genuinely loved kids. Still does, still gets a faint fond smile on his face whenever he sees a happy family on the street. William offers her a raise of his eyebrow, dark eyes sweeping over her bitter, angry form: “ The story is long, I’m afraid, and I know you know some already. I won’t bore you by repeating myself. You have questions, yes? About me. My body. That one, ” he adds, “ is simple enough. I have— Well, if I say power, that makes me sound quite mad. ” William’s chuckle is empty, hollow, a grotesque sound despite its geniality. “ But it’s the truth. I’ve done the unthinkable, my dear. Solved the curse of death, old age, decay. I’ve passed the limits of what any scientist thought possible . . . I don’t age. I don’t die; not by ordinary means, anyway. ” A bright, brilliant smile. “ I call it Remnant. Shall I start there ? ”

CONTINUED. / @cantfixyou

[autumnalwalker]

Untitled Solarpunk Witch draft, chapter 1.5

Spring, Week 5, Five of Swords

“Now that my implants were fully back online, I didn’t have any more excuse to keep putting off reporting this whole incident back to the order.  After I sent it off they wanted to talk in real time.  Because of course they did.”

It’s been a while since I’ve been up this high.  I hadn’t done much flying since arriving in Zello; not much need for it and it does use up a lot of power.  Alas, this isn’t a joyride.  I have to be up this high to get a strong enough signal for the quality the elders are going to want for the call.

“What if I go down just a little lower and blame the quality on being out in the boonies?”

They’d know, and it would only look worse for you.

I let out a sigh.  “Yeah… Well, let’s get this over with.” I verbalize the command words to initiate the sending ritual and the embedded antenna fully extends from the point of my hat while the brim curls up into the suggestion of a dish.  I’ve long since given up on questioning the safety of having this thing on my head all the time.

Oh, have some faith in yourself.  You’re still here after all, and you got the job done.  And if you don’t they’ll pick up on it and start reading into it.

“Not making it better,” I subvocalize while trying to get a good lock on one of the few remaining communication satellites.

Bast(et) turns around on her perch to look me in the eye.  What I’m saying is you’re afraid that they’ll look at what happened and decide you aren’t ready to be out on your own yet after all.  To them, the fact that - on some level - you don’t think you’re ready is going to matter more than the events themselves.

I drop my concentration on the network connection and slip back into full vocal out of exasperation.  “And so what?  I’m supposed to just not have doubts after messing up in a way that could have gotten me killed?  Even if I do think I can do better, get better, it’s not like I can just turn those thoughts off!”

You don’t need to turn them off, just stop focusing on them so much.  We’re not even on a full thought link and I can still pick up that you’re letting that dread seep into everything.  

She pauses.  I can count on one hand the number of times she’s hesitated to speak her mind and I have a suspicion as to what she’s about to suggest.

I can help if you let me.

“How?” I ask, drawing out the word.

Believe in the me that believes in you.

I stare blankly back at her.

Sorry, art history reference to lighten the mood.  But in all seriousness, open a channel and I can take on some of that fear.  Share the load and disperse it so it stops stealing your focus away.  It’s not a gestalting, or even a full thought link, I know how you feel about that.  Just a redirect of that one thing.

“I… don’t know…”  I look away, down to the moonlit village below.  “It’s not that I don’t trust you, it’s just…  I’m…”

Afraid of not being you.  I know.  And I promise this won’t be anything like that, and you’ll be free to sever the link at any time from your end.  She walks down the length of the broom and nuzzles my hand before looking back up at me.  Please, let me help you.

“And won’t they realize what we’re doing?”

Not if we do it right, which we will.  At worst they’ll think we’re more bonded than we were when we left and count that as positive growth.

I realize I’ve been clenching my jaw again and let out a sigh.  “Fine, let’s give it a shot.” I tap out a parameter pattern on the side of my head and speak the command phrase to open a limited channel.  “It’s funny, normally you’re the one telling me not to hide things from the elders.”

Well, rubbing off on one another is half the point of the bond.

Link established on Bast(et)’s end.  We’re now connected beyond subvocal audio, if only slightly.  I don’t feel any different.

“You sure it worked?”

Yes.  Now let’s not keep the elders waiting any longer.

It takes me another minute or two to get a lock on a satellite, but once I do the connection is stable.  From there it’s just a matter of activating the next module in the sending ritual to route me to the elders and then visualizing the sequence of symbols for the passcode.  It’s an admittedly arcane way of going about privacy, harder to hack than character-based passwords, leftover from the days when that was still a concern.

For a moment as the “Passcode Accepted” message flashes in the air before me my mind begins to wander toward worst case what-ifs.  And then I feel Bast(et)’s presence - calm and steady, yet decisive - and I’m able to push all that aside.  Not gone, but no longer distracting.

And then the sending goes through and two ghostly figures appear floating in the air in seated positions before me.  I know that I’m appearing the same way for them.  We don’t have cameras set up, so the AR projections are reading from the same systems as the implant calibration.

Two elders.  I’m not already in trouble, or else it’d be a triune.  More than one though, so this isn’t just an informal checkup on how I’m doing.  Two still feels like a weird number, unless… ah, crap, they’re planning on looping me into a coven circuit for the interview, aren’t they?

The one on my left speaks up first.  Even abstracted via avatar I recognize Elder Petrichor.  I know her more by reputation than personal experience.  Serious, stern, one of the few veterans from the Reconfiguration still around and active.  I swear she had the wrinkles added to her avatar’s face manually.  “Greetings young scion.”

“Elder Petrichor,” I bow my head in deference, “Elder Faeowyn.” At least she’s a friendly face.  Elder by achievement rather than age.  I apprenticed under her for a time and I always thought we got along well.

“Good to see you well,” the younger elder says.

“Let’s get right to the point, shall we?” Elder Petrichor cuts in.  “We’ve reviewed your report and we have concerns about several items therein.  Not the least of which was that you neglected to inform anyone of the initial miscommunication regarding Zello’s request for assistance.”

“I judged that their request was one I could handle, so there was no need to take up the time and attention of other witches that could be better spent elsewhere.”

“So you said in your report.  It is not a judgment I agree with, but we’ll come back to that matter later.”

“The more important matter,” Elder Faeowyn says, “is that you went through a traumatic experience and we want to make sure you’re okay.  Especially since you haven’t indicated reaching out to anyone since then.”

“My implants have been offline until recently, that makes it difficult to contact anyone else in the order.  Besides, I have Bast(et), and I’ve met people in Zello I can talk to.”

“Nevertheless,” Elder Petrichor says, “while we trust you to be honest with us, given your prior history we have concerns about your ability to be honest with yourself, particularly when it comes to your own wellbeing, and that can color what you present to others, whether you mean for it to or not.”

I can’t help but wince at that comment.  It hurts because it’s true.

“To that end,” Elder Petrichor continues, “it is our hope that you’ll consent to reiterating a full report of your activities as Zello’s provisional village witch via a temporary coven link.”

Faeowynn’s avatar leans forward and puts a hand on mine.  There's a fractional second of network lag time before my implants simulate the feeling of a gentle, reassuring squeeze.  When she speaks her voice is a soft contrast to Elder Petrichor’s sharp formality.

“You don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with that, and we won’t hold it against you.  I understand you don’t like mental links like this.”

She would understand.  She was there for my infamous breakdown.  

Take a breath to center myself.  Feel Bast(et)’s presence in the back of my mind.  They’re not asking for a gestalt; I’ll be fine and it’ll get this whole uncomfortable assessment over with that much faster.

“Thank you for your concern, elder, but that’s quite alright.  Go ahead and initiate the circuit.”

*******

The following series of questions and answers examining everything I’ve done since arriving in Zello would have taken hours to talk through verbally.  Communicating with a rapid-fire exchange of impressions, visualizations, emotions, and raw concepts we finish in less than ten minutes.  If we’d been in-person and not limited by network lag it might have been half that time.

By the time we finished, it felt like I’d practically relived both the initial surveying and the excavation of the drone.  Gentle as they were with it, I still feel emotionally wrung out by the end.  The secondary link with Bast(et) metaphorically holding my hand throughout probably saved me from panic terminating the circuit halfway through.

That said, the elders seem satisfied that I’m handling things well.  The things that went wrong with the excavation and the places I’ve stumbled socially are judged to be trials that I learned from rather than failures.  Faeowyn reminds me that even though I’m technically graduated from training, I’m expected to struggle at first on my own.  It’s how we keep learning and growing, she tells me.

More ominously, Elder Petrichor ends the call telling me to keep in mind that a wound to me is a wound to my familiar and that I shouldn’t rely solely on Bast(et) for support without considering her own needs.  That left us both wondering afterward if she knew what we were up to the whole time.

All in all, not as bad as I’d feared.  No being told to come home for further training.  No sending a more senior witch out to supervise.  Just an admonishment to be more careful in the future and a strong suggestion to check in more often.  If not in an official capacity ,then at least informally with my peers.  As if I were still close with any of them.

One last bit of weirdness follows the call.  After we’re alone once more, as I terminate the limited channel Bast(et) and I had up I have the briefest flash of seeing myself in the third person, looking up at my own face.  Bast(et) is as surprised by that moment of shared vision as I am.  We’re both unsettled enough that we spend the next day running diagnostic scans, but neither of us find anything and we write it off as a weird network fluke from the earlier coven circuit.

The day after that, construction on the shelter away from the village where we’ll be working on the drone disarmament finishes.

*******

“It’s kind of creepy when you do that, you know?”

“Greg!”

I blink the AR menu displays away and look up from my work over at Greg and Luanna where they’re breaking down the drone’s primary gun on the other end of the tiny raft-mounted hut.

“What’s what when I do what?”

“When you start whispering to it like that,” Greg says as he rubs the back of his head.  

I’m not sure if he’s just embarrassed about having just said something presumably rude or if Luanna just hit him.  I was pretty absorbed in my part of the work until just now.

He continues, “You get all soft like you’re talking to a kid or a pet or something, but also sort of far off and spooky.  And then the thing starts opening panels and extending parts for us to yank out.”

“I’ve been saying all that aloud?”

Greg nods.  Luanna shrugs.

You usually do.

Thank MG for broad-brimmed hats to hide blushing faces.

“If it makes you feel any better, we can’t actually make out most of it,” Luanna says.

I can.

“And you never said anything?”

I assumed you realized.

Time for a subject change before my health monitors mistake my face for having a fever.

“Aaannnyway, it looks like we were right about the paint job.”  I pat the side of the drone.  Now that the mud and film have all been cleaned off its chassis is clearly visible, bearing an image of a burning tree beneath a raincloud.  Not the most subtle symbol for that era’s activism.  In spots where the paint’s been scratched and chipped fragments of an old Corp logo peek out.  “We’re not the first people to try modding this guy.  Now that I’m looking at more than baseline status readouts and munitions inventory, I’m finding the custom patches and addons that whoever got their hands on it last time installed.”

“That would explain the discrepancies we’ve been seeing,” Luanna says.

“Speaking of,” Greg says, “I went ahead and put some pictures I took on the Collapse forums.  A couple of the guys there think they’ve identified the model and said they’d get back to me about digging up schematics for it.”

“Great!” I say.  “That should help speed things up once we get around to repairs.”

“Or for identifying any more unstable out of place custom jobs that might blow up in our faces when we poke them,” Luanna adds in far too matter-of-fact a tone.  Greg and I both wince at that thought.

“And with that cheerful image, I’m voting we call it a day on the yanking out parts.”  With a blink I pull the menus back up, swipe through a few of them, and shut the drone back down, causing the indicator lights to go out and the faint hum of its internal components to quiet.

“It never gets old,” I hear Greg whisper.

“What’s that?”

“You know.  The - “ Greg starts waving his hands around in the air in an exaggerated imitation of me.

I chuckle.  “Oh yeah.  I forget that other people can’t see the displays sometimes.  I guess I do look pretty weird without them.”

Luanna gives a shrug.  “I mean, I wasn’t going to say anything, but… it is pretty silly looking.”

I for one find it cute how you add all those little flourishes and poses like you’re actually casting spells instead of just sliding menus around and typing in a terminal.

“That is so not the descriptor I was going for.”

“Anyway, you two got room for one more set of hands over there?”

Half an hour later what had once been a device for rapidly launching hot chunks of lead into human beings is now an organized collection of  tubes, springs, bolts, and other miscellaneous metal and plastic bits.  As we leave behind the beached and anchored workshop on a second raft to head back to Zello, Greg brings the earlier conversation back up.

“But seriously, what’s with the whispering?  The gesturing I get, but are you giving it voice commands or something?”

“Sometimes,” I pause for a moment, slightly embarrassed.  “Most of the time I’m just talking to it.”

Luanna raises an eyebrow.  “I didn’t think it was smart enough for that.”

It’s not.

“Not exactly, but it does have a sort of intelligence, and a directive for self-preservation.  I figure if I’m poking around its insides, the least I can do is be nice to it and reassure it that I mean no harm.  It’s a small kindness, but it’s what kindness I can offer while still doing what I need to do.”

“It’s a killing machine,” Luanna says.

“I like to think of it more like an attack dog.  It never asked to be that way and never had a say in doing the things it does, but with a little love, patience, and retraining it could be something else.”

It’s more like an insect than a dog, really.

“Huh, weird, but whatever works for you I guess,” Greg says.  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for drone repurposing, and I’ve seen some cool projects online, but I’ve never really thought of them as much more than really cool hardware.”

I shrug.  “Eh, call it a witch thing.”

More like a you thing.

“You’re really no fun when this topic comes up, you realize?”

It’s because of things like that that most humans don’t trust us.   There’s a bitterness and heat to her voice that I’ve rarely felt from her.

“Whoah, okay, sorry, I shouldn’t have said it that way.”

Sigh.  It’s fine.  Let’s just talk about something else.  

“Like?”

I was going to comment on the irony of Greg being on the disarmament crew, but that’s closer to staying on that topic than I’d like right now.

“It’s not that ironic.  He’s one of the better mechanics around here and an even bigger nerd for old tech than I am.  Oh, Ursula mentioned wanting to talk to you.  I think she wants you to model for a painting.”

Oh really?  Well, I suppose I can deign to be in the spotlight for once.

“I knew you’d jump at the opportunity.”