#there are patterns for classification

[da-janela-lateral]

I've always been curious about esper aura textures. Do they form based on the way psychic energy emerges from its source and weaves itself into an external structure? Do their appearance have a genetic factor just like the very presence of ESP, or its purely a matter of a person's soul? Are there registered patterns in which they can manifest? Do their shapes, colors and movements have a general reason to appear like that, or does it depend on the person? Can the patterns change? Do the patterns interfer in sensorial properties, like perceived temperature, texture or hardness?

Oh that's an anime only thing right.

[fishermod]

https://www.theverge.com/2022/2/25/22949293/tumblr-nycchr-settlement-adult-content-ban-algorithmic-bias-lgbtq

For those who don't remember, here's the lawsuit two years ago where Tumblr (or specifically Automattic) settled with the New York City Commission on Human Rights regarding Tumblr's terribly implemented porn ban targeting LGBTQ folk more than it should. Here's an excerpt detailing what the NYCCHR ordered Tumblr to do:

The settlement gives Tumblr 180 days to hire an expert on sexual orientation and gender identity (SOGI) issues and provide related training to moderators. It must also hire someone with experience in this area as well as expertise in image classification, who will review Tumblr’s moderation algorithms to see if they’re more likely to flag LGBTQ content. As part of an overall review, Tumblr will reexamine 3,000 old cases where a user successfully appealed a takedown, looking for patterns that could indicate bias.

Now, on a totally unrelated note, here's the complaint page for reporting discrimination to the NYCCHR. Completely unrelated to what's going on right now or the rest of this post, I swear.

[edited since it looks like the link broke somehow]

[edit #2: again, for unrelated reasons, here's a link to a post about the San Francisco equivalent]

[in-sightpublishing]

On High-Range Test Construction 4: Iakovos Koukas on Understanding IQ Test Scores

                  Publisher: In-Sight Publishing Publisher Founding: March 1, 2014 Web Domain: http://www.in-sightpublishing.com Location: Fort Langley, Township of Langley, British Columbia, Canada Journal: In-Sight: Independent Interview-Based Journal Journal Founding: August 2, 2012 Frequency: Three (3) Times Per Year Review Status: Non-Peer-Reviewed Access: Electronic/Digital & Open…

[pddparthi]

Types of Grasping: Precision Grasp and Power Grasp

Understanding the Two Types of Grasping Grasping objects is something we do every day, whether it’s picking up a glass of water or holding a pencil. But did you know that there are two primary ways we grasp objects? In this blog post, we’ll explore the two main types of grasping: Precision Grasp and Power Grasp, and how they differ in function and use. Precision Grasp vs. Power Grasp Let’s…

[existential-dread-in-the-am]

I just realised that if Fyodor is gone for good now it would mean us never learning about his ability. And that's not acceptable in a series about characters with supernatural abilities. Not acceptable at all.

[felinefractious]

Hello! I am making a genetic cat picrew and i wonder if there's any guides on different white patches or tortoiseshell patterns. I am planning to do different types of tortoiseshell and white patches so I'm wondering-

Oh this is very fun…

Here’s a selection of diagrams demonstrating typical white distribution patterns and the classifications or nicknames which may be used to describe them.

Note that terms like harlequin, van and so forth are moreso used by registeries to describe phenotype. When it comes to genotype your basic white spotting is going to be…

No white (ww, wwg)

White gloving (wgwg)

Below 50% white (Wsw, Wswg)

Above 50% white (WsWs)

Dominant White (Wdw, Wdwg, WdWs, WdWd)

The possibilities are pretty much endless so have fun with it, especially when you get down to the little random markings. Here are the white pattern tags for the blog that you can peruse for inspiration:

bicolor white

harlequin white

van white

other white

mitted white

I don’t have as many visual resources for tortoiseshell but here’s a diagram @amber-tortoiseshell made illustrating the effect white spotting has on the standard tortoiseshell distribution.

The less white there is the more mottled the appearance, the colors sporadic and mixed in a manner than can be described as brindled. As white is added these patches increase in size and definition until they become distinct blotches.

The split face is a common tortoiseshell marking. The face, paws and tail also tend to sport larger and more distinctive patches of color even if the rest of the body is pretty well brindled.

Here are the tortoiseshell tags for the blog that you can peruse for inspiration:

black tortoiseshell

blue tortoiseshell

chocolate tortoiseshell

lilac tortoiseshell

cinnamon tortoiseshell

fawn tortoiseshell

I’d love to see it when you’re finished! Let me know if you have any more questions!

[claytonia]

[managerapproach]

Transform Your Business with Advanced Automation

Machine Learning is a branch of Artificial Intelligence (AI) that is focused on enabling computers to learn from experience. It is a type of algorithm that enables the computers to automatically learn and improve from experience without being explicitly programmed. Machine Learning algorithms are used to build predictive models and make predictions from data. It can be used to identify patterns…

[lackadaisycats]

This is kinda a stupid question, but what type of hat that Victor is wearing?

It's not a stupid question at all. The simple answer is that it's a cap.

They were quite common at the time as workaday wear for a laborer, as sportswear, as flashy collegiate fashion, and as something basic you'd stick on a young boy's head. Sometimes they'd come in leather or suede, but more typically they'd be made of woven fabric like wool, tweed, or serge. Many designs have a button on top where the wedge shaped fabric segments comprising the crown converge. 'Flat caps' are sewn with a different, boxier panel pattern eliminating the button.

Caps got sort of egregiously puffy/floppy in the 1920s (along with a lot of other egregious things about the 20s). Below is Babe Ruth wearing what would have been considered fashionable at the time. Viktor's is pretty conservative by comparison.

The less simple thing to answer is specifically what type of cap. There are a lot of variations, classification is a little hazy and loose as far as I can discern, and the parlance for them has changed over the past 100 years. For instance, you'll see a lot of people calling them 'Gatsby hats' or 'newsboy hats' now, but they were definitely not referred to as the former within the 1920s, and the latter is doubtful. I haven't seen any old catalog entries list them that way. Mostly they were called golf caps, cabbie caps, driving caps, or sports caps.

[togglesbloggle]

For the Reverse Unpopular Opinion meme, Lamarckism!

(This is an excellent ask.)

Lamarck got done a bit dirty by the textbooks, as one so often is. He's billed as the guy who articulated an evolutionary theory of inherited characteristics, inevitably set up as an opponent made of straw for Darwin to knock down. The example I recall my own teachers using in grade school was the idea that a giraffe would strain to reach the highest branches of a tree, and as a result, its offspring would be born with slightly longer necks. Ha-ha-ha, isn't-that-silly, isn't natural selection so much more sensible?

But the thing is, this wasn't his idea, not even close. People have been running with ideas like that since antiquity at least. What Lamarck did was to systematize that claim, in the context of a wider and much more interesting theory.

Lamarck was born in to an era where natural philosophy was slowly giving way to Baconian science in the modern sense- that strange, eighteenth century, the one caught in an uneasy tension between Newton the alchemist and Darwin the naturalist. This is the century of Ben Franklin and his key and his kite, and the awed discovery that this "electricity" business was somehow involved in living organisms- the discovery that paved the way for Shelley's Frankenstein. This was the era when alchemy was fighting its last desperate battles with chemistry, when the division between 'organic' and 'inorganic' chemistry was fundamental- the first synthesis of organic molecules in the laboratory wouldn't occur until 1828, the year before Lamarck's death. We do not have atoms, not yet. Mendel and genetics are still more than a century away; we won't even have cells for another half-century or more.

Lamarck stepped in to that strange moment. I don't think he was a bold revolutionary, really, or had much interest in being one. He was profoundly interested in the structure and relationships between species, and when we're not using him as a punching bag in grade schools, some people manage to remember that he was a banging good taxonomist, and made real progress in the classification of invertebrates. He started life believing in the total immutability of species, but later was convinced that evolution really was occurring- not because somebody taught him in the classroom, or because it was the accepted wisdom of the time, but through deep, continued exposure to nature itself. He was convinced by the evidence of his senses.

(Mostly snails.)

His problem was complexity. When he'd been working as a botanist, he had this neat little idea to order organisms by complexity, starting with the grubbiest, saddest little seaweed or fern, up through lovely flowering plants. This was not an evolutionary theory, just an organizing structure; essentially, just a sort of museum display. But when he was asked to do the same thing with invertebrates, he realized rather quickly that this task had problems. A linear sorting from simple to complex seemed embarrassingly artificial, because it elided too many different kinds of complexity, and ignored obvious similarities and shared characteristics.

When he went back to the drawing board, he found better organizing schema; you'd recognize them today. There were hierarchies, nested identities. Simple forms with only basic, shared anatomical patterns, each functioning as a sort of superset implying more complex groups within it, defined additively by the addition of new organs or structures in the body. He'd made a taxonomic tree.

Even more shockingly, he realized something deep and true in what he was looking at: this wasn't just an abstract mapping of invertebrates to a conceptual diagram of their structures. This was a map in time. Complexities in invertebrates- in all organisms!- must have been accumulating in simpler forms, such that the most complicated organisms were also the youngest.

This is the essential revolution of Lamarckian evolution, not the inherited characteristics thing. His theory, in its full accounting, is actually quite elaborate. Summarized slightly less badly than it is in your grade school classroom (though still pretty badly, I'm by no means an expert on this stuff), it looks something like this:

As we all know, animals and plants are sometimes generated ex nihilo in different places, like maggots spontaneously appearing in middens. However, the spontaneous generation of life is much weaker than we have supposed; it can only result in the most basic, simple organisms (e.g. polyps). All the dizzying complexity we see in the world around us must have happened iteratively, in a sequence over time that operated on inheritance between one organism and its descendants.

As we all know, living things are dynamic in relation to inorganic matter, and this vital power includes an occasional tendency to gain in complexity. However, this tendency is not a spiritual or supernatural effect; it's a function of natural, material processes working over time. Probably this has something to do with fluids such as 'heat' and 'electricity' which are known to concentrate in living tissues. When features appear spontaneously in an organism, that should be understood as an intrinsic propensity of the organism itself, rather than being caused by the environment or by a divine entity. There is a specific, definite, and historically contingent pattern in which new features can appear in existing organisms.

As we all know, using different tissue groups more causes them to be expressed more in your descendants, and disuse weakens them in the same way. However, this is not a major feature in the development of new organic complexity, since it could only move 'laterally' on the complexity ladder and will never create new organs or tissue groups. At most, you might see lineages move from ape-like to human-like or vice versa, or between different types of birds or something; it's an adaptive tendency that helps organisms thrive in different environments. In species will less sophisticated neural systems, this will be even less flexible, because they can't supplement it with willpower the way that complex vertebrates can.

Lamarck isn't messing around here; this is a real, genuinely interesting model of the world. And what I think I'm prepared to argue here is that Lamarck's biggest errors aren't his. He has his own blind spots and mistakes, certainly. The focus on complexity is... fraught, at a minimum. But again and again, what really bites him in the ass is just his failure to break with his inherited assumptions enough. The parts of this that are actually Lamarckian, that is, are the ideas of Lamarck, are very clearly groping towards a recognizable kind of proto-evolutionary theory in a way that we recognize.

What makes Lamarck a punching bag in grade-school classes today is the same thing that made it interesting; it's that it was the best and most scientific explanation of biological complexity available at the time. It was the theory to beat, the one that had edged out all the other competitors and emerged as the most useful framework of the era. And precisely none of that complexity makes it in to our textbooks; they use "Lamarckianism" to refer to arguments made by freaking Aristotle, and which Lamarck himself accepted but de-emphasized as subordinate processes. What's even worse, Darwin didn't reject this mechanism either. Darwin was totally on board with the idea as a possible adaptive tendency; he just didn't particularly need it for his theory.

Lamarck had nothing. Not genetics, not chromosomes, not cells, not atomic theory. Geology was a hot new thing! Heat was a liquid! What Lamarck had was snails. And on the basis of snails, Lamarck deduced a profound theory of complexity emerging over time, of the biosphere as a(n al)chemical process rather than a divine pageant, of gradual adaptation punctuated by rapid innovation. That's incredible.

There's a lot of falsehood in the Lamarckian theory of evolution, and it never managed to entirely throw off the sloppy magical thinking of what came before. But his achievement was to approach biology and taxonomy with a profound scientific curiosity, and to improve and clarify our thinking about those subjects so dramatically that a theory of biology could finally, triumphantly, be proven wrong. Lamarck is falsifiable. That is a victory of the highest order.

[regressionschool]

Maturity Test Part 1

The waiting room buzzed with a nervous energy, a mix of anticipation and dread that hung thick in the air. Rebecca fidgeted with the hem of her dress, her fingers tracing the lace pattern absentmindedly. Beside her, Olaf was tapping his foot, his face a careful mask of indifference, though the slight tremor in his leg betrayed his unease. Anna, the calmest of the trio, sat with her hands folded neatly in her lap, her posture straight, and her expression serene.

At twenty years old, they had all reached the first critical milestone in their lives—the Maturity Test. Every person was required to take it at twenty, and then every five years after that. The test was designed to determine their place in society, not just in terms of their roles and responsibilities, but their very lifestyle. No one knew exactly how the test worked; it was a closely guarded secret, passed down through generations, the results shaping the course of every citizen’s life.

A door at the far end of the room opened with a quiet hiss, and a woman in a crisp white lab coat stepped out. “Rebecca Green,” she called, her voice soft but commanding.

Rebecca stood up, smoothing her dress one last time before following the woman through the door. Olaf and Anna exchanged a glance, but neither said anything. What was there to say? They had all grown up together, gone through school together, and now this test would decide their futures.

The door closed behind Rebecca, sealing her into a small, sterile room. A single chair sat in the center, facing a large screen. The woman gestured for her to sit.

“Relax, Rebecca,” the woman said, her tone soothing. “This will only take a few minutes.”

Rebecca nodded, though her heart was pounding in her chest. She sat down, the chair surprisingly comfortable. The screen in front of her flickered to life, displaying a series of images, words, and scenarios. Rebecca tried to focus, answering the questions as they appeared, making decisions, reacting to scenarios, all while trying to keep calm.

After what felt like both an eternity and only a few seconds, the screen went black. The room was silent, save for the soft hum of machinery. Rebecca’s hands gripped the armrests of the chair, her knuckles white.

Finally, the screen lit up again, displaying a single word in bold letters.

TODDLER

Rebecca stared at the word, her mind reeling. Toddler? What did that mean? But before she could process it, the door behind her opened again, and the woman in the lab coat re-entered, this time accompanied by a man in a similar uniform. He held a small bundle in his hands.

“Rebecca, your classification is toddler,” the woman said, her voice still calm. “This means that, from now on, your lifestyle will be adjusted to fit your new status. This includes, but is not limited to, the wearing of diapers, a supervised environment, and the cessation of adult responsibilities.”

The man stepped forward, handing her the bundle. It was soft, wrapped in pastel-colored fabric. Rebecca’s hands trembled as she took it, unfolding it to reveal a thick, padded diaper. Her breath caught in her throat.

“Your new caretaker will meet you shortly to explain everything,” the woman continued. “Please follow the attendant, and they will guide you to your new quarters.”

Rebecca could barely move, her mind swirling with confusion, embarrassment, and a strange sense of resignation. She was led out of the room, clutching the diaper to her chest like a lifeline.

As she passed by the waiting room, she caught Olaf’s eye. He gave her a tight, sympathetic smile, but there was nothing he could say. Anna, still composed, offered a small nod, acknowledging Rebecca’s fate.

The door closed behind her, leaving Olaf and Anna in silence once more.

“Olaf Lindstrom,” the same woman called, and Olaf rose to his feet. He walked through the door, his heart pounding in his ears.

The process was much the same. The questions, the scenarios, the flashing images on the screen. But Olaf’s mind kept wandering back to Rebecca, to the diaper in her hands, to the word TODDLER that had flashed on the screen. Was that really her future now? What would his be?

When the screen finally settled on his classification, Olaf felt his heart skip a beat.

PRESCHOOLER

The woman re-entered the room, but this time she held something different—a package of pull-ups, adorned with cartoon characters and bright colors.

“Olaf, your classification is preschooler,” she said. “This means that while you have some independence, you will still require supervision and assistance with certain tasks. You will wear these pull-ups, and your activities will be limited to those appropriate for your status.”

Olaf stared at the pull-ups, a strange mix of relief and disappointment washing over him. He wasn’t a toddler like Rebecca, but he wasn’t classified as an adult either. He was stuck in some in-between stage, not quite a baby, but not fully independent.

He was led out of the room, clutching the pull-ups. When he passed the waiting area, Anna’s eyes met his, her expression unreadable. She offered him a small, reassuring smile, but Olaf could see the concern behind it. They had all known that their futures would be decided today, but none of them had expected it to be so drastic.

Finally, it was Anna’s turn. She walked into the room with her head held high, her steps confident. The test followed the same pattern—questions, images, scenarios—but Anna’s mind was calm, focused. She had always been the responsible one, the one who took care of her friends, who excelled in school, who made the right decisions.

When the screen displayed her classification, Anna felt a sense of vindication.

ADULT

The woman in the lab coat entered, holding nothing this time. She simply smiled at Anna, a warm, approving smile.

“Anna, your classification is adult,” she said. “You will continue to live as you have, with full responsibilities and privileges. You have passed your Maturity Test.”

Anna nodded, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders. But as she left the room, her thoughts drifted back to Rebecca and Olaf, to the diaper and the pull-ups, to the new lives they were about to lead.

As Anna walked out of the room, she glanced back at the door where Rebecca and Olaf had exited. Her heart ached for her friends, especially for Rebecca, who had been reduced to a toddler by the system. But she knew there was nothing she could do. The classifications were final, and everyone had to live by them.

As she continued down the street, Anna silently vowed to check in on Rebecca and Olaf, to be there for them despite the gulf that had just opened between their lives. Because while the system had classified them differently, they were still her friends, and she wouldn’t let that change.

Anna walked up to the familiar house, the one she had visited so many times before, yet it felt different now. It had been two years since the Maturity Test, and so much had changed. She had just finished her BSc, an accomplishment she was proud of, but now that she was back home, she felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation about reconnecting with her old friends, especially Olaf.

As she approached the front door, Anna could hear muffled laughter from inside. She knocked gently, and within moments, the door swung open to reveal a beaming Olaf. He looked almost the same as she remembered, but there was something different about his demeanor—something softer, less assured.

"Anna!" Olaf exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he pulled her into a warm hug. "It’s so good to see you!"

"You too, Olaf!" Anna replied, hugging him back tightly. "It’s been way too long."

Olaf stepped aside to let her in, and as Anna entered the house, she noticed the subtle changes. The living room had a more childlike vibe now, with toys neatly arranged in one corner and colorful educational posters on the walls. A large stuffed animal sat on the couch, and there was a faint scent of baby powder in the air.

Olaf looked a little different too. His clothes were casual, a bit more childlike than she remembered—loose overalls and a bright, playful t-shirt. And there was a visible outline beneath his overalls that hinted at something... padded.

Lilly appeared from the kitchen, wearing a soft smile and holding a tray of snacks. She looked every bit the doting caregiver, dressed in comfortable clothes that belied her new role in Olaf’s life.

"Anna, it’s so great to see you again," Lilly said warmly, setting the tray down on the coffee table. "I’ve heard so much about how well you’ve been doing."

"Thanks, Lilly," Anna replied, returning the smile. "It’s good to be back home, even if just for a bit."

Olaf began chatting animatedly about his life, clearly eager to share.

“So, I’m in preschool now,” Olaf said, his voice carrying a mix of pride and something else—a hint of embarrassment, maybe? “It’s... well, it’s different from what I thought I’d be doing, but I’ve made some really good friends there.”

Anna nodded, listening intently. “That’s great, Olaf. What kind of stuff do you do in preschool?”

“Oh, you know, we have story time, arts and crafts, and lots of outdoor play,” Olaf said, his eyes lighting up as he talked about the games they played. “It’s really fun, actually. And we have nap time after lunch, which is... kind of nice.”

Lilly chuckled softly, ruffling Olaf’s hair. “He’s the star of the class, aren’t you, sweetie?”

Olaf blushed deeper, looking down at his juice box. “I guess...”

Anna smiled, sensing the comfort yet slight awkwardness Olaf felt in this dynamic. “Sounds like you’re doing great, Olaf. It’s good to see you so happy.”

But then Lilly’s expression turned slightly mischievous. “Olaf, why don’t you tell Anna about that big milestone you hit last year?”

"And, uh," Olaf continued, his tone shifting slightly as he glanced at Lilly, "I also... well, I passed 'Unpotty Training I' last year."

Anna blinked, taking in the information. She had heard of Unpotty Training classes but hadn’t really considered what that meant for someone like Olaf. The idea of Olaf, her old friend who used to be so independent, having accidents like a toddler was hard to wrap her mind around.

Lilly, however, looked absolutely delighted. "He did so well in that class," she said proudly, as if discussing an academic achievement. "He’s such a good boy. He was one of the first in his class to have real accidents."

Olaf squirmed in his seat, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "I-I guess..."

Anna glanced at Lilly, noticing the way she gently but firmly guided Olaf’s behavior. There was a subtle push and pull in their dynamic—Olaf trying to hold on to his independence and maturity, while Lilly seemed eager to encourage his regression. It was an intriguing contrast.

“That’s... really interesting,” Anna said, trying to be supportive while still processing the situation.

Lilly smiled, sensing Anna’s curiosity. “Olaf’s doing great in his preschool class, and he’s learning to embrace this new phase of his life. But, of course, I’m here to help him with whatever he needs.”

Olaf looked at Anna, his expression somewhere between pride and a plea for understanding. “It’s been... different, but Lilly’s been really supportive. She... she helps me a lot.”

Anna watched the interaction, noting how Lilly’s influence seemed to be gently guiding Olaf further away from the maturity he was trying to cling to. It was clear that Lilly enjoyed her role as a caregiver—no, as Mommy.

"So, what happens after these five years?" Anna asked, her curiosity getting the better of her.

Lilly’s eyes gleamed slightly as she looked at Olaf. "Well, after five years, we all take the Maturity Test again. Depending on how things go, Olaf might stay a preschooler, or... maybe he’ll move on to the next smaller stage."

Olaf’s blush deepened as he looked down at his hands. "I don’t want to move backward, Anna. I want to stay a preschooler... or maybe even move up, if I can."

Lilly chuckled softly, clearly amused by his determination. "We’ll see, sweetie. There’s no rush. For now, let’s just focus on enjoying where you are."

Olaf looked up at her, his expression a mix of resignation and affection. "Yeah... I guess you’re right."

Anna walked through the bright, cheerfully decorated halls of the regression school nursery, a place she never imagined visiting until now. She hadn’t seen Rebecca since before her classification, and she wasn't sure what to expect. The walls were lined with colorful murals, depicting scenes of playful animals and idyllic nature, clearly designed to be soothing and engaging for the residents. The soft hum of lullabies played in the background, adding to the nursery’s serene atmosphere.

Finally, she reached the room number she had been given and knocked gently on the door. A moment later, it swung open, and Anna was greeted by a young woman with a warm smile, dressed in a uniform that marked her as one of the caregivers.

“Hello, you must be Anna,” the caregiver said kindly. “Rebecca’s been talking about your visit all week. She’s just inside, playing with her toys.”

Anna smiled back, feeling a mix of emotions—anticipation, curiosity, and a twinge of sadness as she stepped into the room. It was spacious, filled with soft, pastel-colored furniture, and various toys scattered across the floor. In the middle of it all sat Rebecca, her back to the door, completely absorbed in stacking brightly colored blocks into a wobbly tower.

Rebecca was dressed in a simple shirt with a cartoon character printed on the front, and Anna’s eyes were immediately drawn to the diaper peeking out from beneath it. The thick padding crinkled softly as Rebecca shifted.

“Becky,” Anna called softly, using the childhood nickname that felt oddly appropriate now.

Rebecca turned around, her face lighting up with a broad, innocent smile that made her look younger than her twenty-two years. “Anna!” she squealed, dropping the blocks and crawling over to her friend. When she reached Anna, she wrapped her arms around her legs in an enthusiastic hug, her diaper crinkling loudly with the movement.

“Hi, Becky,” Anna said, crouching down to return the hug. She was struck by how different Rebecca seemed. The way she moved, the way she looked up at Anna with wide, expectant eyes—it was as if Rebecca had truly turned into the toddler she had been classified as.

“Wanna play blocks with me?” Rebecca asked, her voice slightly lisped, whether naturally or from the regression, Anna wasn’t sure. “I’m makin’ a big tower!”

Anna smiled gently. “Sure, I’d love to.” She sat down on the plush rug next to Rebecca, who immediately returned to her task of stacking blocks, her small tongue poking out in concentration.

As they played, Anna observed her friend closely. Rebecca’s mannerisms were so childlike—the way she clapped her hands in delight when the tower didn’t fall over, the way she babbled excitedly about the different colors and shapes of the blocks. It was clear that Rebecca had regressed quite a bit since her classification.

“So, Becky,” Anna started, picking up a block and turning it over in her hands, “how have you been? Do you like it here?”

Rebecca nodded enthusiastically, her pigtails bouncing with the movement. “Yeah! It’s so fun! I get to play all day, an’ the caregivers are really nice. They give me cookies when I’m good!”

Anna smiled, though there was a hint of sadness behind it. “That sounds nice. And you’re happy?”

“Uh-huh!” Rebecca chirped, not a care in the world as she continued stacking her blocks. “I don’t hafta worry ‘bout big girl stuff anymore.”

Anna nodded, watching Rebecca with a mix of concern and curiosity. The girl in front of her was so different from the Rebecca she once knew—carefree, unburdened, but also entirely dependent on the nursery and its routines. It was a stark contrast to Anna’s own life, where responsibility weighed heavily on her shoulders every day.

As they continued to play, Anna couldn’t help but notice something strange—Rebecca’s diaper, which had been dry when she arrived, was still dry. She had been there for nearly three hours, and Rebecca hadn’t shown any signs of needing a change. It struck Anna as odd, considering everything she’d heard about regression schools and their “residents.”

But as the hours passed, Anna started to see small signs. Rebecca would squirm a little more, shift her weight from side to side, and occasionally pause in the middle of talking or playing, as if she was distracted by something. Anna noticed but didn’t say anything, not wanting to embarrass her friend.

Finally, after about three hours, Rebecca paused mid-sentence, her eyes going wide for a moment. She looked down at her diaper, then back up at Anna, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks. “Uh-oh...” she mumbled softly, her voice tinged with both embarrassment and a hint of relief.

Anna watched as the colorful designs on Rebecca’s diaper began to fade, the telltale sign of it absorbing wetness. There was a faint, almost imperceptible hiss, and then Rebecca sighed softly, a look of contentment spreading across her face.

“I did a pee-pee,” Rebecca said quietly, almost to herself, as she absentmindedly patted the front of her now-soggy diaper. There was no shame in her voice, just a simple acknowledgment of what had happened.

Anna reached out, gently rubbing Rebecca’s back. “It’s okay, Becky. Do you want me to get someone to change you?”

Rebecca shook her head, leaning into Anna’s touch. “No, it’s okay. I’m comfy.”

Anna continued to rub her back, noticing how Rebecca seemed completely at ease with her situation. "You really seem to enjoy it here," Anna said softly.

Rebecca’s smile faltered for a moment as she looked down at her soggy diaper, then back up at Anna. "Well... I heard that if I'm a good little girl and don't put up a fuss, they might let me grow back up before the next... matur... matuwity... test," she said, struggling with the word.

Anna’s eyes widened slightly. “Maturity test?”

Rebecca nodded, a proud smile spreading across her face. “Uh-huh! If I’m a good girl and don’t make a fuss, maybe when it’s time for the test again, I can grow back up!”

Anna’s heart ached a little as she listened. It was clear that Rebecca had latched onto the idea, hoping that by being the perfect little toddler, she might get a chance to return to her previous life. Anna wasn’t sure if that was really how it worked, but she didn’t want to burst Rebecca’s bubble.

“That’s a good plan, Becky,” Anna said softly, pulling her friend into a gentle hug. “You’re doing great.”

Rebecca beamed up at her, the simple praise enough to make her day.

[homunculus-argument]

I think the reason why some cis people are so offended by being called "cis" is because they're entirely unfamiliar with the idea that they might be things that they didn't deliberately choose to be, or that the way they inherently are and hadn't considered as a distinct thing may be a concept that's been named, observed and defined. They don't like to learn that there are names for them that they had not been aware of.

When you've lived all your life with a vague and lingering dread that you are somehow different from everyone around you, it's a relief to learn that there are words for what you've got going on, that there are names for people like you. That you're not somehow uniquely wrong in some way in which everyone else is right, you're just type B when the vast majority of people are type A. There are others like you, whose patterns are like yours, you are not a deviant for deviating from the "norm".

Default Settings People get strangely insulted by the mere idea that they, too, have a slot in the classification system. They'll protest this, being the biggest, most typical, and statistically most likely category isn't enough, they want to be outside of this system completely. Arguing "I'm not some type, I am normal", like being sorted into a type at all is dehumanising and insulting. They want there to only be One Type, and that everyone falling outside of it is a Miscellaneous Deviant. Being "typical" in contrast to "atypical" isn't enough, they want to be normal in contrast to abnormal.

In unrelated news, the ADHD subreddit on reddit has banned the word "neurotypical". That kind of language has been deemed as 'political', meaning that it hurts the feelings of neurotypicals and therefore should not exist.

[catdemondez]

So my autistic ass was OBSESSED with The Titanic as a kid and one thing I keep thinking about with this whole lost submarine incident is the “name curse”.

White Star Line, the company that produced the Titanic, made three Olympic class ocean liners: The Olympic, The Titanic, and The Britannic.

(Seen in order top to bottom. Picture stolen from reddit. X )

The Olympic is the only of those three that did not sink.

Now, the “name curse” that comes in to play here is related to greek mytholoical races from which each ship has supposedly taken its name: The Olympic Gods (also just called Olympians), The Titans, and The Giants. The giants are involved due to a claim that The Britannic was originally called The Gigantic, based on an unofficial poster featuring the ship with the supposed name above it, as well as a contemporary newspaper stating that the company announced a ship with said name three years before The Britannic was launched.

Both The Giants and The Titans were races that were vanquished by The Olympic Gods in what are called the Titanomachy and Gigantomachy, with the latter event being less well know.

Another race of gigantic beings seen in greek mythology is The Cyclopes. The Cyclops were never vanquished by The Olympic Gods as they were never at odds with the gods, even crafting artifacts for the gods themselves, namely: Zeus’s thunderbolts, Poseidon’s trident, and Hades’s helmet of invisibility. 

The submarine that went missing is part of the Cyclops class submarine line produced by OceanGate Inc., probably called such due to the design. Two vessels of the class have been produced with two more planned following a naming scheme of Cyclops I, Cyclops II, and so on. Cyclops II however was renamed to Titan specifically for its use in touristic viewing expeditions of The Titanic.

Now, more about the submarine itself;

Cyclops I performed well for its intended depth, Titan however has not, with OceanGate having lost track of it before. This is due to the vessel lacking a tracking beacon, as well as navigation controls and communication devices, relying on a support ship to text Titan’s captain its directions, as revealed by Journalist David Progue, who also said that they “turned off the ship’s internet to prevent tweeting.” Also, due to the lack of these features, Titan was denied official certification by ship classification societies for not meeting safety standards of ANY society. Problems started long before this, though.

During the testing of Titan’s design, OceanGate claimed that the dimensions and structure were partly designed and tested by NASA, Boeing (the plane company) and The University of Washington. All three of which have denied this. In fact, when Titan was first built, it was handed over to the company’s operations department with no testing whatsoever as well as an insufficient monitoring system. The Director of Operations, however, saw this and submitted a negative quality report, for which he was promptly fired. When they DID finally test it over a year later, the vessel resurfaced with signs of cyclic fatigue, which is the near microscopic bending of metal that happens before cracks appear. Instead of changing the design to prevent this from happening in future expeditions, the company simply replaced the damaged parts and called it good.

All in all, its just so funny to me that OceanGate used the same supposedly cursed naming pattern for its ONE safety violation riddled submarine only to send it to a lethal depth its not equipped to handle AND SOMEHOW not expect it to eventually crush like a soda can under a semi.

[hidden-but]

have you heard about what's going on in Sudan?

would you like to use some of your procrastination/online time to help?

Zooniverse is a crowdsourcing image annotation platform that started as an attempt to classify wildlife in phototraps, and then branched to other similar projects. The idea behind it is simple:

Humans are great at seeing patterns in images. Computers are shit at it. Give a human a picture and ask: is X in the picture? and you'll get either: Yes, here; No, or Maybe. Give the same image to a bunch of humans (ideally hundreds/thousands) and you'll get statistics that is as accurate classification of the image as humanly possible (even though some humans make errors in the process).

This project focuses on classifying satellite images of roads and evaluating if there's a dry riverbed crossing the road which is at risk of flooding, which would prevent aid getting across the flooded road.

They are in the early stages of classification, which means that they need people to look at thousands of images and sort them out to Something's Here and Nothing's Here, so if you have some time and you'd like to help, please go to the project page and check if there's a dried river on some of the pictures.

Let me stress once again, that this project is set up in a way that even if you spend five minutes on it, classify fifteen images and make two mistakes, you're still helping. Especially in these early days, where there's still a lot of pictures with Not The Thing We're Looking For in them.

And you'll learn something about how Sudanese countryside looks like from space, as a bonus.

(i recommend opening this on a large screen, zooniverse pages are not very mobile friendly in general, because you need to be able to see and mark the image, after all)

[neuroprincess]

So I’ve got an idea for a Schmentti family request.

Luca meeting his baby sister for the first time.

Like I feel that it would be the cutest thing ever. And you would write it so well! Just an idea, I love this series so much!

Hi sweetie! Hope it met your expectations. And thank you for your request ♡ oh that's very sweet and kind of you ^^

LuLu's Sissy - Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Melissa Schemmenti/Female Reader

Summary: After a long week Olivia is finally home to meet her older brother, but Luca's reaction is not at all what they expected.

Classification: Domestic fluff

Warnings: Breastfeeding (?)

Word count: +2300

Unrevised

When the couple came through the front door, they hoped that their firstborn would be taking one of the dozens of naps he takes during the day or too busy trying to catch Barb's eye to notice their arrival. Sweet illusion! As soon as Melissa turned the key, they could hear the quick little footsteps running towards them, along with the playful giggles of someone who had done something fun. It didn't take long for the boy to wrap his arms around the older woman's legs, almost knocking her over in the process, without much idea of how big and strong he had become over the last few months. As well as being bigger than expected for age and than his kindergarten friends, Luca is an affectionate little bear who loves physical touch, tight hugs and curling up wherever he can in search of a comfortable lap, something he always gets from his mothers, no matter the situation. But this time the attempt is frustrated, the teacher's arms are full of maternity bags and some of the presents that were left at the hospital, while Y/N balances the baby comforter where the new addition to the family sleeps peacefully, oblivious to the commotion around her.

"Good morning, my little man!" Melissa greets in a loving whisper, dropping off all the items on the nearest armchair, the short journey from the car to there was enough to give her a slight backache "Did you behave today? Or did you give your godmother a hard time?" she asked, already knowing the answer.

With usual childlike honesty, the boy just shakes his head "no," then nods "yes," his chubby cheeks quickly taking on a rosy hue, showing he's a little embarrassed, which draws a laugh from the adults in the room. He's still dressed in dinosaur pyjamas, and his coppery hair is slightly messy, the ends forming adorable curls.

"It's all right! We'll give you a pass for being cute. Now, are you ready to meet your little sister?"

"Mama..." he points to the large pink item, still covered in a thin patterned blanket, curious "Momma!" then calls out to the youngest, who, since he started forming sentences, has also been able to distinguish them. Mama and Mama Mel are obviously for Melissa; Momma and Mum for Y/N; Mummy for both and on rare occasions.

"Yes, sweetheart?" she asks, crouching down to her son's height, watching his olive eyes light up in realization.

"My Sissy?"

Barb, who has just finished organizing some children's books previously scattered on the coffee table, observes the interaction between the little family. Her godson, usually agitated and not very tactful, walks on tiptoe and puts a little finger in front of curved lips, repeating "Shhh" so that everyone is silent as he tries to get closer, just as she taught him hours before. After a long week under observation, the newborn was finally released to go home, miraculously without sequelae or any complications, to the relief and joy of her moms. She can say with certainty that it was the worst week of her friend's life.

Nothing compares to the moment Olivia Ann came into the world, giving everyone a fright, premature, small enough to fit in a shoebox and asleep, making the redhead's heart skip beats and her blood run cold. After the scare came the worry, it was a terrifying experience in every respect and both hesitated even to hold her, she seemed so fragile, as if she were made of glass, and any wrong move could break her. Neither of them got enough sleep and never stopped worrying until Liv finally reached the ideal weight for her eagerly awaited release. Her eyes meet her friend's and they share an affectionate look, full of gratitude and pride.

"I wanna see her!"Luca speaks a little louder, jumping up and down in excitement, barely able to contain himself "I want my Sissy."

"You'll see her soon, LuLu." Y/N assures him and is about to pull up the blanket to finally show him his little sister when she starts mumbling, which soon turns into a loud cry, potent for a small human being "Oh, I think Liv's hungry."

"Sissy want cookies?"

"No, bambino." Melissa strokes his cheeks and picks him up so that he's at their height "She doesn't have any teeth yet."

The boy grimaces in disgust and then laughs at the thought of someone with no teeth, it sounds too silly, especially for someone who bites everything, like him. Teeth are essential! This makes him even more curious. It took a while for the toddler to understand what a sibling is and that he would soon have one, just as it took him a while to understand the concept of babies, since for Luca he is still one. And it's for this reason that he is shocked when the blanket is pulled back to reveal the newborn, about the size of his teddy bears, incredibly red and screaming at the top of her lungs.

"Mommy! Aunt Barb! Sissy a chicken?"he asks, wide-eyed "Sissy ugly." and concludes, knitting his eyebrows together, it's not what he was expecting.

They burst into laughter, of all the reactions and expectations they had, this was the most surprising and funny. He stares at them in confusion, he doesn't see how this is funny, this can't be his Sissy, can it?

"No, no, love." Barbara manages to say between laughs and moves closer, helping the younger with the baby comfort "She's only small, babies are like that when they're born."

"Ugly?"

"You think that Olivia is ugly?" Mel is amused and hugs him, stroking the full hair as he nods positively "Well, amore mio, you looked just like her when you were born."

"No! No!" the boy is indignant, refusing to believe it "LuLu is cute!"

"So Olivia is cute?"

The question confuses him, and thinking hard with the unique reasoning of a two-year-old, he shakes his head "no" again.

"Sissy is ugly!"

He lays head down on his mother's chest, hiding an annoyed pout, and watches as the pair take the little girl out of the accessory, then place her on Y/N's lap so that she can be breastfed. Of course, the child doesn't know what he's feeling, it's something that bubbles in the pit of the stomach and may be quite irrational, but Luca quickly becomes jealous. Until a few months ago he was the one on his Momma's lap and could feed himself to his heart's content, until this was taken away from him, between small bribes and a lot of patience. Only now to be replaced by a newcomer who, in his view, is stealing what belongs to him.

It doesn't take long for Luca to start grumbling and squirming until he escapes from the redhead's arms.

"Aunt Barb! No!" he asks his godmother for help, pointing to Y/N who is sitting on the sofa, crying when the woman doesn't do what he wants "I want my Momma too!"

Melissa sighs and exchanges a sympathetic look with her wife; they know that this adaptation phase is going to be difficult for the little one. Despite his personality and all the preparation they have done for the arrival of their second child, nothing changes the fact, already proven to be hereditary, that Luca Schemmenti is jealous by nature. He's had all the attention on himself so far and isn't used to sharing, least of all the most important things in his life, his moms.

"You'll always be our baby, LuLu. Our prince. But now Liv needs us, Mama and Momma will take care of her too, just like we take care of you, caro. She's our family, mine, yours, ours." she whispers and strokes his flushed face, wiping away the tears running down cheeks "And you have a very important role now, you're a big brother."

"And do you know what big brothers do?" Y/N continues, he denies it, the crying ceasing in sobs "Big brothers learn to share, they also protect and love their little siblings A LOT."

"I don't wanna share my Momma!" he insists and rushes over to the youngest, hugging her legs as she straddles the daughter who immediately starts sucking desperately on her nipple. "You're mine!"

"LuLu, I'll always be yours, but I'm also of Liv, of Mama too."

"My Mama?"

"Yours."

"Liv hers too?"

"Yes, bambino." Melissa sits down on the sofa and pulls him onto her lap again.

"And Liv mine?"

"Yes, your little sister, your Sissy."

Only then the boy realizes how close he is to her and maybe she doesn't look so ugly when not crying. She yawns, showing her gums without any teeth, and it brings a smile to his face. It's really funny. He bites the inside of his lip, trying to take in the concept that, after months of hearing about Olivia, she's finally here. It's not what he expected, the complete opposite, and although it's frustrating, it's still his.

He nods, showing that he's understood what he's being told.

"Do you want to touch her?"

Luca nods again, still unsure, and brings a hesitant hand close to Olivia's tiny feet. He remembers how mommies always tickle him before bed, it's fun and always makes him happy. With a smile and not so shy anymore, he tries to replicate the gesture, little fingers dancing in search of a few laughs, but before anything can be done, Melissa gently holds his arms.

"Careful, LuLu." she says softly, placing a kiss on his forehead "She's very, very, very small, Liv isn't ready to be tickled like you yet."

"Cause I'm big boy?" the question is ambiguous and they don't understand whether he sees it as a good or a bad thing.

"Yes, love! Because only big boys get fun tickles from their mommies." Barb sidesteps the situation and sits down in the armchair opposite the Schemmenti, leaning over to continue talking to her godson "And when your sister grows up, you'll be able to give her lots of tickles."

"Okay..."

The toddler makes a stubborn little peck, but it doesn't last long as he is pulled closer by the redhead, his chubby arms wrap around her neck and gives her a kiss on the chin, only to hide his face in the crook of her neck. He absolutely loves Melissa's perfume and playing with her necklaces, calms down and makes him feel safe.

When Olivia has finished feeding, a time that seemed like an eternity of torture to him, Y/N carefully settles the newborn on her lap so that their son can see her better, a difficult task considering that, like the firstborn, she can be very demanding in some ways. Liv, satiated, opens her little eyes for the first time since they arrived home and Luca, amazed, leans in for a closer look, full of curiosity. It's fascinating, he watches all her little reactions, from one of the spasms that make her smile to her sleepy stretching.

"Amore mio, you can't tickle her, but you can hold her hand, do you want to do that?"

This makes him happy and without a second thought he gently touches the baby's little hand, which closes around his fingers instantly. The boy opens a surprised and genuine smile, beginning to accept and understand that this small, strange and slightly ugly person is his sister, whom he has been waiting for long months. Barb, watching the scene with a warm smile, can't resist taking out her smartphone and recording the moment. She takes a few photos, capturing Luca's cute expressions that oscillate between curiosity and a growing affection for Olivia. Melissa and Y/N stare at each other, thrilled to see the connection forming between the two, immersed in this unique little moment, their two children officially getting to know each other.

"See, LuLu? She already likes you," the youngest encourages him, running a hand through their son's hair, curling one of the soft locks.

"I like her. My Sissy."

"Yes, Luca," Melissa agrees, hugging the boy "Your Sissy, forever."

He snuggles closer into Mel's embrace, letting out a satisfied sigh. The siblings' hands are still together, his little fingers caressing her soft skin, a very common little gesture of affection that he always shows to those he loves, a detail that doesn't go unnoticed by women, a sign that, despite the initial shock, he has begun to understand the significance of this new addition to the family. This fact warms their hearts, the little family is complete with the arrival of Olivia Ann.

Until a few years ago, the eldest had never imagined the possibility of motherhood and now she is the mom of two little angels, gifts from her wife, someone who has given her a new perspective and chance in life. For a brief moment, she almost wanted to follow in her parents' footsteps and have a baseball team of her own, but only if they came from Y/N. The house she bought, when still married to Joe, never felt like a home until she entered her life, her treasure, gradually making it more complete, all her baggage with Melissa's constituting a beautiful marriage, which years later brought Luca and was completed with Olivia. The once empty walls are filled with family photos, the floor with toys and children's books, a soft smell of freshly baked cookies comes from the kitchen and the sun illuminates the living room, every corner and detail filled with love in one of those perfect moments that you want to keep in mind for eternity.

Y/N smiles as she realizes how far away the other is in her thoughts and leans in to join their lips in a tender kiss, both are tired, a little sleepy and extremely proud of the family they have built for themselves. It hasn't been easy and it won't be as their gremlins grow up, but all the challenges and rewards of motherhood along with the life shared with Melissa is something she wouldn't trade for anything in this and other worlds.

Suddenly, Luca's curious little voice broke the silence of the sweet moment.

"Momma, when Liv go her home?"

taglist: @opheliauniverse @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @wastdstime @scarr0713 @geekyandgay98 @dvrkhcld @heidss @esposadejoyhuerta @xvyzxx @quailbagutte @imaginesmultifandoms @ctrlamira @milffilm @taurus-baby-34 @prentiss-theorem @josephinevr @cordyandbilliehavemyheart @grandtacoranchnickel @multifandomlesbianic @serendipitouswanderer @louderfortheback @h-doodles @Hotdoggitydammit @peggy082023 @le0vo1dz @lilfartbox1 @imgayforwoman69 @janeyseymour @hwppnes @storiesofsvu @zacs-obsessed @evilaam @evattude @tmlwattpad19 @willowshadenox @gweninred

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Schemmenti Family Masterlist

[jade-gemstone]

Danganronpa Ultimate Categorization

Welcome back to another episode of: Jade is a nerd about something absolutely useless! Today's topic: Talent classification in Danganronpa/Fangans.

In the process of making my own fangan/s, I've created a classification system for the types of talents you can give characters. These classifications are...

Arts: Talents that are involved in the visual arts, performing arts, or fashion. Encompasses performers of all types, any type of visual artist, or anyone involved in fashion. (Ex. Actor, Abstract Artist, Model)

Practical: Talents that focus on a specialized skill or work with your hands. Also includes any talents that are religious or spiritual in nature. (Ex. Mechanical Engineer, Detective, Shrine Maiden)

Academic: Talents that are recognized by how much knowledge or experience a character has in an academic field. Covers most science, literature, math, and research based talents. (Ex. Chemist, Theologian, Archaeologist)

Sports: Talents relating to athletic skill. (Ex. Footballer, Kickboxer, Bowler)

Novelty: Talents given to a person who is special simply by existing. Can also be given to characters who win a contest for their talent. Includes Lucky/Unlucky Students, royalty, and non-human characters. (Ex. Lucky Student, Student, Princess)

This system of classification was based on my experience in the community over about three or four years, seeing many other people's original characters as well as creating my own. I found many fell into these categories. My "perfect" ratio, which my friends and I used as a guideline for making our fangan casts, is 4 arts : 4 practical : 4 academic : 2 sports: 2 novelty. I felt this ratio kept things even and grounded.

A few months ago, I began to wonder if my "perfect" ratio was more of my own creation than an actual pattern I saw. I thought, in the event it was, that I would come up with a mathematically accurate ratio that better represented the talent distribution of Danganronpa and its fan projects. This was my attempt at doing just that.

Data Collection

For this, I tried to collect as varied of a sample as possible. I included the three mainline Danganronpa games and sixteen fangans, ranging from very popular ones to very obscure ones. The fangans sampled for this analysis were...

Danganronpa Another

Super Danganronpa Another 2

Danganronpa Despair Time

Brave Danganronpa Coward's Paradise

Project Eden's Garden

Danganronpa He(art)less Deceit

Danganronpa Hushed Whispers

Danganronpa Muave

Danganronpa Despair's Revival

Danganronpa Re:Birth

Danganronpa Twisted Truths

Danganronpa Survivor's Guilt

Danganronpa Despair's Flame (my fangan! also the one where the talent ratio originated)

Danganronpa Cyberspace

Danganronpa Akeda Amusements

Danganronpa Lost Paradise (my other fangan that isn't released anywhere but I'm counting anyway)

I figured out the talent ratio for each individual game by looking through their casts and sorting them with my classification system. Ultimate ???'s were thrown out if possible (such as in the case of Akeda Amusements, where Hanari was thrown out due to the fangan having seventeen participants) and if not, they were counted as novelty.

Also, shout out to Yuki Maeda and Teruya Ōtori for managing to count for two different data sets despite my best efforts at finagling a way to keep them confined to one.

Observations

The first thing I noticed in looking at the ratios for canon Danganronpa was that Academic ultimates are underrepresented compared to what I initially remembered. It had been a while since I revisited the mainline games, and it was a shock to be reminded of that. I was also reminded, but not quite as shocked by the greater emphasis on practical ultimates.

In fangans, the focus on practical ultimates continues to be heavy, with none having less than two. There was also less focus on sports ultimates, with the majority having only one or two compared to the three that the mainline games had a majority of the time. They also tend to have more academic ultimates.

I think that this could be explained by looking at the types of people who make fangans. The majority of people I know who make fangans have very particular knowledge about certain fields due to experience or heavy research, and more often than not these fields do not include sports. They are more likely to make characters based on their experiences and knowledge that they can then insert into the story to make it seem more authentic.

I also, unsurprisingly, found that my "perfect" ratio was not reflected in many of the fangans I looked at. There was only one besides my own that followed that ratio.

Now, if my "perfect" ratio is not the mathematically perfect ratio, then what is?

According to the data collected for the canon games, this is.

This just so happens to also be the ratio for Trigger Happy Havoc.

According to the data collected from the fangans, this is the perfect ratio.

The only fangan that followed this ratio exactly was Akeda Amusements. V3 also had this distribution.

When considering both mainline and fan made games, the perfect ratio was this.

Ironically, not a single mainline game or fan game followed this ratio.

Out of curiosity, I also calculated the standard deviation for each data set.

Canon Danganronpa has little to no variation, conveying that talent ratios are quite consistent between games. The biggest variation would be in the novelty category, making sense as V3 scaled down the amount of novelty ultimates compared to the other two games.

The fangans are shown to have a much larger variation. Though I can't be surprised by this, as perhaps it is an unfair comparison. The mainline Danganronpa games were written by mostly the same team and had less to sample from, while the fangans have not only a larger sample size in which to deviate, but many different writers that think differently about talent distribution.

Final Thoughts

In putting this all together, I found that my classification system, while not perfect in any sense of the word, has some validity to it. If I wanted to, I could definitely make some improvements to it (especially in distinguishing between certain academic and practical fields from novelty), but as of now it works perfectly fine as an aide in cast creation for me.

My ratio is also not perfect, which was an expected outcome. Really none of the ratios I found are perfect, with none of them representing more than one or two of any mainline or fan made game. While ratios like the ones I found can be good for making sure you have a balanced distribution of talents, they aren't required to make a good cast. Personally, I'll continue using my personal "perfect" ratio as a baseline for any cast I make in the future.

I also had a lot of fun making this, and hope I can find a way to make more posts like this in the future. Thank you for reading this.