#thirteen integer

[chococrepes-art]

Yo! Y'all remember that theory that the last digit of a number is an important part of how they're like?

Like Five and Fifteen for example: both of them get easily annoyed by things, scenarios, and other people, or Four and Fourteen: both of them are crazy, eerie and dangerous, or the Zeros and Ten: they're all being and trying to be helpful to other people when they're in need.

(Example: Ten saving Nine's and Six's cats from the tree as well as saving Seven from that tree, Zro (I really doubt it was any other Zero because it was exactly Zro's voice and the Zeros including Zro do have small difference between eachother's voices) saving Pie from Pi, and and the other four Zeros saving all those puppies and cats from that burning building)

Well I was thinking ... or wondering, does that mean that Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Sixty-Three's personality could be somehow similar to Three's personality in some way? (Since 2763 ends in 3) The thing is, we don't really know anything/enough about Three's or Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Sixty-Three's personalities yet. And as we all know a new Bfdi:Tpot episode is coming out soon, and it's possible we might see Three there finally, and that could tell us about how Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Sixty-Three's personality might be like by finding out more about Three, but it's also possible we might not see Three yet, and if the continuation of the subscriber special comes out before Three's more official reveal, then perhaps Two Thousand Seven Hundred and Sixty-Three's personality could be telling us about Three's personality instead and what to expect or not expect from them.

This theory could still be wrong and just a coincidence of course, but I still think that this theory that the last digit that's a part of a number influences their personality more, is more accurate than the theory that the first digit influences the number's personality more, since we all know how 1 and 2 are like and none of the algebralien's we know seem to be that much like them (10, 14, 15, 2763) it's more likely that the bigger the number the more popular and scary they are among smaller numbers.

Anyways as a sidenote 2763 probably just has lots of layers to their being and personality because of all those digits that make this number up.

But basically what I wanted to say is that this could be an opportunity to learn more about both 2763 and 3, depending on who we're gonna see more of first.

Also completely off topic, but do you guys think that maybe Fourteen also has Thirteen trapped inside them, and it's like "tradition" for 4 ending numbers to trap 3 ending numbers inside them (not actually tradition but y'know what I mean), or do you think even Fourteen would find that really creepy and weird and terrible, like a sort of "professionals have standards" sort of thing (since they are a cannibal) or do you think Fourteen wouldn't do it but wouldn't care if others did it either? Because the only time we've seen Thirteen was when one of the people animating for the show doodled Thirteen on a Livestream and it was non-cannon. Or do you think that Thirteen actually literally does bring so much bad luck that they're exiled and have to live alone far away from algebralien kind, or maybe they've been actually sentenced to death even? Unless Thirteen hasn't been born yet, since we don't really even know how algebraliens are made (but considering the Zro scene I think it's obvious more than just romance exists, or at the very least heavily implied, I do think algebraliens would be hermaphrodites because they don't have gender AND they are aliens, but I talked about that in another post, but anyways I'm gonna stop thinking about that scene now)

[physicallyimprobable]

what's the 3-dimensional number thing?

Well I'm glad you asked! For those confused, this is referring to my claim that "my favorite multiplication equation is 3 × 5 = 15 because it's the reason you can't make a three-dimensional number system" from back in this post. Now, this is gonna be a bit of a journey, so buckle up.

Part One: Numbers in Space

First of all, what do I mean by a three-dimensional number system? We say that the complex numbers are two-dimensional, and that the quaternions are four-dimensional, but what do we mean by these things? There's a few potential answers to this question, but for our purposes we'll take the following narrative:

Complex numbers can be written in the form (a+bi), where a and b are real numbers. For the variable-averse, this just means we have things like (3+6i) and (5-2i) and (-8+3i). Some amount of "units" (that is, ones), and some amount of i's.

Most people are happy to stop here and say "well, there's two numbers that you're using, so that's two dimensions, ho hum". I think that's underselling it, though, since there's something nontrivial and super cool happening here. See, each complex number has an "absolute value", which is its distance from zero. If you imagine "3+6i" to mean "three meters East and six meters North", then the distance to that point will be 6.708 meters. We say the absolute value of (3+6i), which is written like |3+6i|, is equal to 6.708. Similarly, interpreting "5-2i" to mean "five meters East and two meters South" we get that |5-2i| = 5.385.

The neat thing about this is that absolute values multiply really nicely. For example, the two numbers above multiply to give (3+6i) × (5-2i) = (27+24i) which has a length of 36.124. What's impressive is that this length is the product of our original lengths: 36.124 = 6.708 × 5.385. (Okay technically this is not true due to rounding but for the full values it is true.)

This is what we're going to say is necessary to for a number system to accurately represent a space. You need the numbers to have lengths corresponding to actual lengths in space, and you need those lengths to be "multiplicative", which just means it does the thing we just saw. (That is, when you multiply two numbers, their lengths are multiplied as well.)

There's still of course the question of what "actual lengths in space" means, but we can just use the usual Euclidean method of measurement. So, |3+6i| = √(3²+6²) and |5-2i| = √(5²+2²). This extends directly to the quaternions, which are written as (a+bi+cj+dk) for real numbers a, b, c, d. (Don't worry about what j and k mean if you don't know; it turns out not to really matter here.) The length of the quaternion 4+3i-7j+4k can be calculated like |4+3i-7j+4k| = √(4²+3²+7²+4²) = 9.486 and similarly for other points in "four-dimensional space". These are the kinds of number systems we're looking for.

[To be explicit, for those who know the words: What we are looking for is a vector algebra over the real numbers with a prescribed basis under which the Euclidean norm is multiplicative and the integer lattice forms a subring.]

Part Two: Sums of Squares

Now for something completely different. Have you ever thought about which numbers are the sum of two perfect squares? Thirteen works, for example, since 13 = 3² + 2². So does thirty-two, since 32 = 4² + 4². The squares themselves also work, since zero exists: 49 = 7² + 0². But there are some numbers, like three and six, which can't be written as a sum of two squares no matter how hard you try. (It's pretty easy to check this yourself; there aren't too many possibilities.)

Are there any patterns to which numbers are a sum of two squares and which are not? Yeah, loads. We're going to look at a particularly interesting one: Let's say a number is "S2" if it's a sum of two squares. (This thing where you just kinda invent new terminology for your situation is common in math. "S2" should be thought of as an adjective, like "orange" or "alphabetical".) Then here's the neat thing: If two numbers are S2 then their product is S2 as well.

Let's see a few small examples. We have 2 = 1² + 1², so we say that 2 is S2. Similarly 4 = 2² + 0² is S2. Then 2 × 4, that is to say, 8, should be S2 as well. Indeed, 8 = 2² + 2².

Another, slightly less trivial example. We've seen that 13 and 32 are both S2. Then their product, 416, should also be S2. Lo and behold, 416 = 20² + 4², so indeed it is S2.

How do we know this will always work? The simplest way, as long as you've already internalized the bit from Part 1 about absolute values, is to think about the norms of complex numbers. A norm is, quite simply, the square of the corresponding distance. (Okay yes it can also mean different things in other contexts, but for our purposes that's what a norm is.) The norm is written with double bars, so ‖3+6i‖ = 45 and ‖5-2i‖ = 29 and ‖4+3i-7j+4k‖ = 90.

One thing to notice is that if your starting numbers are whole numbers then the norm will also be a whole number. In fact, because of how we've defined lengths, the norm is just the sum of the squares of the real-number bits. So, any S2 number can be turned into a norm of a complex number: 13 can be written as ‖3+2i‖, 32 can be written as ‖4+4i‖, and 49 can be written as ‖7+0i‖.

The other thing to notice is that, since the absolute value is multiplicative, the norm is also multiplicative. That is to say, for example, ‖(3+6i) × (5-2i)‖ = ‖3+6i‖ × ‖5-2i‖. It's pretty simple to prove that this will work with any numbers you choose.

But lo, gaze upon what happens when we combine these two facts together! Consider the two S2 values 13 and 32 from before. Because of the first fact, we can write the product 13 × 32 in terms of norms: 13 × 32 = ‖3+2i‖ × ‖4+4i‖. So far so good. Then, using the second fact, we can pull the product into the norms: ‖3+2i‖ × ‖4+4i‖ = ‖(3+2i) × (4+4i)‖. Huzzah! Now, if we write out the multiplication as (3+2i) × (4+4i) = (4+20i), we can get a more natural looking norm equation: ‖3+2i‖ × ‖4+4i‖ = ‖4+20i‖ and finally, all we need to do is evaluate the norms to get our product! (3² + 2²) × (4² + 4²) = (4² + 20²)

The cool thing is that this works no matter what your starting numbers are. 218 = 13² + 7² and 292 = 16² + 6², so we can follow the chain to get 218 × 292 = ‖13+7i‖ × ‖16+6i‖ = ‖(13+7i) × (16+6i)‖ = ‖166+190i‖ = 166² + 190² and indeed you can check that both extremes are equal to 63,656. No matter which two S2 numbers you start with, if you know the squares that make them up, you can use this process to find squares that add to their product. That is to say, the product of two S2 numbers is S2.

Part Four: Why do we skip three?

Now we have all the ingredients we need for our cute little proof soup! First, let's hop to the quaternions and their norm. As you should hopefully remember, quaternions have four terms (some number of units, some number of i's, some number of j's, and some number of k's), so a quaternion norm will be a sum of four squares. For example, ‖4+3i-7j+4k‖ = 90 means 90 = 4² + 3² + 7² + 4².

Since we referred to sums of two squares as S2, let's say the sums of four squares are S4. 90 is S4 because it can be written as we did above. Similarly, 7 is S4 because 7 = 2² + 1² + 1² + 1², and 22 is S4 because 22 = 4² + 2² + 1² + 1². We are of course still allowed to use zeros; 6 = 2² + 1² + 1² + 0² is S4, as is our friend 13 = 3² + 2² + 0² + 0².

The same fact from the S2 numbers still applies here: since 7 is S4 and 6 is S4, we know that 42 (the product of 7 and 6) is S4. Indeed, after a bit of fiddling I've found that 42 = 6² + 4² + 1² + 1². I don't need to do that fiddling, however, if I happen to be able to calculate quaternions! All I need to do is follow the chain, just like before: 7 × 6 = ‖2+i+j+k‖ × ‖2+i+j‖ = ‖(2+i+j+k) × (2+i+j)‖ = ‖2+3i+5j+2k‖ = 2² + 3² + 5² + 2². This is a different solution than the one I found earlier, but that's fine! As long as there's even one solution, 42 will be S4. Using the same logic, it should be clear that the product of any two S4 numbers is an S4 number.

Now, what goes wrong with three dimensions? Well, as you might have guessed, it has to do with S3 numbers, that is, numbers which can be written as a sum of three squares. If we had any three-dimensional number system, we'd be able to use the strategy we're now familiar with to prove that any product of S3 numbers is an S3 number. This would be fine, except, well…

3 × 5 = 15.

Why is this bad? See, 3 = 1² + 1² + 1² and 5 = 2² + 1² + 0², so both 3 and 5 are S3. However, you can check without too much trouble that 15 is not S3; no matter how hard you try, you can't write 15 as a sum of three squares.

And, well, that's it. The bucket has been kicked, the nails are in the coffin. You cannot make a three-dimensional number system with the kind of nice norm that the complex numbers and quaternions have. Even if someone comes to you excitedly, claiming to have figured it out, you can just toss them through these steps: • First, ask what the basis is. Complex numbers use 1 and i; quaternions use 1, i, j, and k. Let's say they answer with p, q, and r. • Second, ask them to multiply (p+q+r) by (2p+q). • Finally, well. If their system works, the resulting number should give you three numbers whose squares add to 15. Since that can't happen, you've shown that the norm is not actually multiplicative; their system doesn't capture the geometry of three dimensions.

[duxearlier]

PUPPY LOVE

< goshiki tsutomu x reader >

Summary: y/n and Goshiki were best friends since childhood, both of them always stuck by one another and were there when the other needed to. It has been years since both of them saw each other in person due to y/n moving away. But once y/n got back, they are once again unspeakable. Though that is until Goshiki introduces y/n to the team and they get close to one of the members for his liking. I mean, he has always been in love with y/n but was he truly enough for them?

Genre: childhood friends to lovers, angst, drama, fluff

Warnings: Swearing, yelling, teasing, suggestive themes.

Taglist: closed

[This is it! The last chapter. I honestly was struggling to figure out how to end it but now it's finished! The next smau will start in a few days! Thank you guys for the support and I hope you have a good day/afternoon/night!]

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

<chapter twelve || materlist ||

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< taglist > @jellysupremacy @k4sumis0u @vixx-11 @mimi3lover @miyamizuna @noodleswastaken @integers @mixplara @sadcatrei

[impossiblesuitcase]

The Duty of the Prince

“Psst! Kai!”

The classroom was still, the quiet only broken by the intermittent low thrum of the air conditioner and styluses scratching against portscreens. The ticking countdown loomed before them on the digital whiteboard. 

The whisper carried like a shout. “Kai!” shot past three identically neat rows of desks to where he sat.

Kai’s brow twitched. He re-read the question on his screen, attempting to block out the persisting voice.

“Hey!” it came again, “Hey Ka—”

“Lijun,” intoned their teacher Kang-dàren, “This is an individual assessment, not a group project. Leave Kai alone and return to your test.”

Lijun sagged back into his seat. A volley of giggles bounced off the walls but were quickly stifled by Kang-dàren’s steely look. Kai reached into his pocket, produced a tissue, and dabbed at his sweaty palms.

The class managed to restrain themselves until the clock ticked down to 0:00. Immediately students turned to their desk mates, whispering, “What did you get on question 5?” “That one on integers was bogus,” “I swear 90% of that wasn’t on the curriculum,” “More like 16%, which you would have been able to calculate if you had actually studied the curriculum, doofus.” The bell rang and everyone shuffled to the door as the teacher announced that their grades would be posted on Friday.

Outside, Kai detoured over to the rubbish bin to discard the tissue. When he turned, Lijun was cornering him between the lockers and the bin. “Why’d you ignore me?” he snapped.

Kai clutched his port to his chest, refusing to let intimidation reach his eyes. “We were in a test, Lijun.”

He scowled. His posse of minions sidled up to him, eyeing Kai with boyish smugness. “Whatever. I want you to come to my place after school. We’re going to play some games. Have some fun.”

The fun was laden with implication. Kai knew from the way this pack picked on the girls in their class and ganged up on the boys at recess that fun would be some form of torture for him. 

“I’m not interested,” Kai responded flatly, shoving past the wall of shoulders. 

“Hey!” one of the boys yelled, grabbing his elbow. “Don’t just walk off.”

When Kai pushed ahead all the same, the boy ripped his port from his hand and flung it on the ground. A crack rippled across the screen.

Kai snatched it up. “I’m going to go tell Kang-dàren that you’re harassing students.” He did his best to keep his voice level in the way he had heard his father speak when dealing with accusatory politicians. 

“Oh yeah,” Lijun mocked, “just because you’re the prince doesn’t mean you rule this place!”

Kai reached the door just before they grabbed his bag straps. He slipped inside the classroom. 

Kang-dàren glanced up. “Kai? What’s wrong?”

“Lijun again,” Kai said, holding up his portscreen as evidence.

She sighed, standing and spreading her hands on her desk. “I’ll go get him. You can leave out the back door.”

He nodded and waited until he heard her trudge to the hallway and inform the recalcitrant youths that their parents would be called again before he left for biology class.

Lijun was correct, though. Kai’s princely status did little at this school. Everyone here was elite—the children of politicians, dukes and dames, celebrities and billionaires. He was grateful for this normalisation. School was one of the only places he didn’t feel like the most famous thirteen-year-old in the world. But his lack of leverage did have its downsides. Particularly when it came to playground bullies.

After biology, Kai was walking past the front office on the way to the school canteen, his friend Yìchén by his side nattering about the latest update to Alien Invasion. Through the glass barrier, Kai saw Lijun slumped in a chair, his stern-looking father glaring down at him. He grabbed Yìchén’s arm, pulling them out of view.

“The game controls are way better now and—” Yìchén halted, glancing around in confusion.

The office door slid open. Lijun exited stiffly, his shoulder trapped under his father’s firm hand. When he saw Kai, his expression became impossibly more sour.

Kai darted his gaze to the floor, hoping to play it off as though they hadn’t noticed him.

Lijun didn’t like that. “You know, Your Highness,” he seethed. “You wouldn’t be the first royal that people got sick of. Remember what happened to Princess Selene?”

His father dragged him away, but Kai saw a quiver in his deep-set frown. The man, a cabinet member, was publicly against many of Emperor Rikan’s policies and a staunch supporter of an anti-monarchical democracy. Kai wasn’t surprised his son had followed in his footsteps.

Lijun mouthed a “Don’t push your luck” as he was led down the hallway. Kai could only look away.

Yìchén shivered, ever the coward despite his mother’s status as a military general. He was a gangly teen, about a ruler’s length taller than Kai, with his hair and eyes the same shade of brown and his cheeks covered in a smattering of pimples. His face was stuck in an interminable grimace. “He scares me.”

Kai tried to shake off the strange aura, but Lijun’s words were lodged in his mind. He worried, for the first time, that perhaps his taunts were more than childish insults. Perhaps Lijun would sooner see Kai fall into some horrible, fiery accident.

Just like Princess Selene.

———

“Everything okay, bud?” Dad asked.

Kai dropped his backpack to the floor, sliding onto the stool by the kitchen island. Dad placed a plate of red bean mooncakes in front of him. “Yeah. Just the regular school stuff.”

His father stood behind the bench, wiping his hands on his trousers. He was dressed more casually than normal: a cream t-shirt rather than his formal button-downs, suggesting he hadn’t had any meetings today. Kai liked when his dad didn’t have meetings. It usually meant that he would be less tired at the end of the day and that the two of them could do something fun together. Kai hoped his own bad mood wouldn’t spoil it.

“Is the schoolwork getting hard?” he asked, watching Kai attentively.

“Nah.” He lifted his bag with his foot by the strap, reaching for his port. The screen was unsalvageable and when he thumbed the power button only half of the screen woke, the other dead black.

Dad frowned. “What happened?”

“My classmates happened.”

His expression darkened. “Lijun again?”

“Yeah.”

Dad sighed. It would be an abuse of his power to march into the Principal’s office and demand that the rowdy troublemakers be suspended, even when Kai knew he wanted to. Kai knew that because he himself wanted to give them a piece of his mind, and he knew that he didn’t get that indignation from his mother.

“I didn’t yell at him, I promise,” Kai insisted.

Dad shook his head. “I know you didn’t. Did you tell your teacher?”

He nodded. 

“Good. They’ll sort it out.”

They both knew that this issue had been ongoing for months without any signs of being sorted out. But there was no point dwelling on what they could do little about.

Dad nudged the plate closer to Kai. “Come on, this will cheer you up. I’ll make us some milk tea.”

Kai smiled halfheartedly and bit into a mooncake. It was delicious and succeeded at lifting his spirits, even just a little. “What are we doing tonight?”

“We’ve got dinner with some British dignitaries. The Annesley family, I believe.”

His spirits fell again. So much for fun this evening. Kai tried to brush it off. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. So...how was your day, Dad?”

Dad brought the kettle over to the sink, filling it with water. “Oh, the usual. Boring legislative stuff.” He winked at Kai. “I’ll be happy when you’re old enough to help me out with that.”

Kai rolled his eyes. “You just want to sit around watching net-dramas all day while I run the country.”

“Yep.” Dad grinned. He switched the kettle on to boil and stole a mooncake off Kai’s plate with another wink.

He liked the idea of working with his dad. It would beat Algebra any day. Since turning thirteen, Kai had noticed a lot of his classmates becoming grumpy, moody and irritated with their parents. Perhaps Kai would have also felt that way, but since losing Mum, he knew his time with his father was precious.

It was with this thought that he voiced an idea he’d had stowed away for some time. “Dad? Can we do something this weekend? Maybe go to the snow cabin in the Changbai mountains? The one we used to go to with Mum?”

Dad smiled sadly. “I’d love to. But unfortunately I’ve got an important conference this weekend.”

Kai chided himself for getting hopeful. Dad did his best to spend time with him, but more often than not these days, the answer to his requests was no. 

“Can’t you cancel it?” Kai asked, hoping he would be proved wrong.

“I’m sorry, Hǔ zi, It’s a really important one. But I promise we can do that next weekend.” He began pouring the hot water into the cups. 

Kai deflated with the use of the nickname. Hǔ zi had been Mum’s nickname for him. She said that when he was a baby, he tried to bite her fingers, just like a tiger cub. Dad picked it up after she had died. It reminded Kai of her, softened and calmed him, and Dad tended to use it to mollify him.

It didn’t work this time.

“I’m not thirsty,” Kai announced, sliding off the chair.

Dad startled. “Kai, please understand—”

He turned and headed to the living room. “I do, Dad.”

As he stomped off, the smell of jasmine wafting up to his nose, he heard his father sigh. His heart clenched.

Kai knew he was being unreasonable. The emperor’s duty was the heaviest in the whole world, and he had billions of lives resting in his palm. He couldn’t always make concessions for his son. It was just that—Kai felt more and more was being expected of him. Their fortnightly outings had become monthly affairs, and now once in a blue moon. Dad tried his best to balance both, but more was demanding his attention lately, and the word Lunars was what circulated around the palace the most. Whispers passed from servant to maid, guard to secretary, exchanged in hallways for Kai to overhear.

Kai supposed he had inherited his father’s spitefulness, because right now, he wished Queen Levana would just keel up and die.

———

Yìchén was practically bubbling over with excitement when Kai spotted him at the school entrance on Friday. Their friend Jenny stood beside him, looking supremely bored.

“Hi Jenny,” Kai greeted as he reached them. “Are you feeling better?”

Jenny was as put together as usual with the exception of a reddish glow to her nose. She was dressed in the standard girl’s uniform, and though they followed a strict policy on jewellery and makeup, she rebelled with gothic touches where allowed. Her black hair was tied into pigtails with little skull barrettes. Her lip balm was purple rather than the more common pink and Kai knew her beautiful topaz ring had the hidden internal engraving, Live to die.

“Mostly. Nanay told me if I have the energy to sneak out last night to Myla’s place then I have the energy to come to school.” She gave a side glare at Yìchén. “Though I think I have another headache coming on.”

“Kai!” Yìchén gasped, bouncing on his toes. “You’ve got to hear about the forum I was reading through last night!”

Kai cast Jenny a sympathetic look. It was too early in the morning for one of Yìchén’s seminars. While Jenny was sick for the past week, Kai had been subject to a number of them.

The bell rang for class. 

“Uh, why don’t you tell us about it in study hall?” Kai suggested.

Oh boy, did he. After their separate first classes, the three met up in their usual spot in the library between the netscreens and the bean bag lounge. Kai and Jenny tried in vain to practise their second-era history flashcards as Yìchén regaled them with his findings.

“So I was thinking about what Lijun said yesterday—you know, about Princess Selene? And I got curious cause I don’t know much about her other than the fact she died in a fire, obviously,” he rambled, taking no breaks between words. “But then I found something super interesting. It’s this secret that Queen Levana is hiding, you’ll never guess—”

“That the fire wasn’t an accident? And that Levana killed her?” Jenny guessed in a monotone, resting her chin on her palm and staring at the digital bookshelves.

Yìchén’s mouth hung open. “You’ve heard the rumours too?”

“Oh come on, everyone knows that Levana killed her. That’s as good as fact.”

This caught Kai’s attention. “I didn’t know that. Is there evidence that she killed Selene?”

Jenny scoffed. “Evidence is relative. Think of the situation: you’re an evil princess who happens to become queen regent when your sister dies. All that’s standing in the way of you and the throne is a dumb little three-year-old. Wouldn’t you want to dispose of her while she’s young and helpless?”

“No,” Kai protested, very unfond of being compared to the Lunar royals a second time. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“You wouldn’t because you’re a softy,” she corrected. “We’re talking about a crazy evil lady here. Of course she killed Selene.”

Kai wilted into his seat. Jenny, ever the nihilist, likely made these conclusions long ago. Maybe his father had sheltered him because Kai had honestly never considered it before. Could an aunt really kill her own niece? And a toddler at that?

“Anyway, that’s not the secret I was talking about, though I definitely believe that’s true,” Yìchén interjected. He lowered his voice, glancing around conspiratorially. “As I was researching the princess, I found this forum that goes beyond the murder. They have very strong reason to believe that Princess Selene is—”

“Students.” They all jumped at the scratchy voice. The head librarian stood by the table, glowering down at them. “This is your study period. I would hope that you three would be diligently studying. You can discuss your flights of fancy at recess.”

“Yes, Imai-dàren, sorry,” Kai said respectfully, bowing his head. The others exchanged quick sorrys along with him. Imai-dàren was one other the sterner librarians, cranky and so ancient that even Kai’s dad remembered being scolded by her when he attended the academy.

Yìchén waited until she’d gone to lurk elsewhere then fixed his eyes resolutely on Kai’s. “They think Princess Selene is alive.”

Jenny barked out a laugh. Kai slapped a hand over her mouth, smothering her giggles as Imai-dàren sent a searing glare their way. 

“Jen, you’re going to get us a detention,” he hissed, but she all the same continued chortling, the sound only just muffled by his hand. It was probably against the code of conduct for one student to manhandle another so flippantly, but Kai knew Jenny wouldn’t have an issue with it. The pair of them had been in the same class every year since kindergarten. Her mother was a renowned Filipina soprano, a favourite of the Imperial family, so the two had always grown up in the same circles.

Also, there was that two-week stint last year when they’d dated. Well, if hanging out in the library once before school and meeting up twice on the weekend for ice creams can be considered dating. It had fizzled out before it had even begun to produce a flame. Despite the awkward months that followed, they had managed to salvage their friendship. Now a year later, the short spell had made them even more comfortable with each other.

Plus, he’d gotten his first kiss out of it, and he really wasn’t complaining about that. After all, even stupid Lijun hadn’t had his first kiss yet.

Jenny peeled his hand away. “Okay Yìchén, those games have finally rotted your brain.”

“It’s true!” he protested, splaying his hands before them desperately. “Look: there have been reports that the doctor that treated Princess Selene was executed not long after the fire. Why would she be killed unless she was hiding the fact that the princess is alive!”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Yeah, and how did we get this information? Luna is totally shut up. We can’t communicate with people up there.”

Yìchén gestured to Kai. “Kai’s dad does.”

She turned to him. “Has Levana been feeding your dad conspiracy theories regarding her dead niece?”

Kai scratched the back of his neck. “...No? I don’t really know what they talk about.”

Jenny cocked her head at Yìchén.

He bit his lip, twiddling his fingers on top of his portscreen. Then his eyes lit up. “Oh! Because there are Lunars who escaped and came here to Earth! They brought the information!”

This time, Kai guffawed. “There are no Lunars on Earth!”

“Exactly,” affirmed Jenny.

Yìchén hung his head, resting it on his elbows. “Fine. I guess you guys don’t get it. You just think it’s just one of my stupid ideas,” he muttered.

Kai reached across the table and patted his arm. “Hey, it’s not stupid. It would make a cool story. We just don’t think it’s all that…plausible.”

Jenny snorted. Kai kicked her foot under the table.

Disheartened nonetheless, Yìchén switched on his port with a blank expression. “We should be studying anyway.”

They worked dutifully for the rest of the period. But as Jenny quizzed Kai on second-era European wars, he stumbled over a few answers. His thoughts were distant. What did Dad say to Levana in those meetings? He knew Luna hated Earth, but why did Dad suddenly seem so stressed about it? Was something coming?

Jenny tutted as she marked down a 16/20 on Kai’s report. “You’ve been slacking.”

Kai tried to shake the premonitions away. “It’s because you haven’t been here this week to supervise me. Okay: who wrote The Communist Manifesto?”

———

Kai still hadn’t talked to Dad since their tiff. It was mostly circumstantial—that same night they had dinner with those dignitaries which ruled out the possibility of a conversation. Then the next day Kai went over to Won-shik’s house—well, mansion—to play video games. His mum had roped him into staying for dinner and as much as Kai enjoyed the immaculately-crafted dishes from the palace chefs, it was nice to have a normal homemade meal every once in a while.

He came home that night to a brand new portscreen lying on his bed, the lockscreen already set to a backdrop from one of his favourite net-dramas. Dad knew he loved it.

Now it was Saturday and Kai’s guilt was eating him up.

He knew the conference started after lunch so Dad would still be in his office preparing his notes. At 10:34, Kai switched on the kettle and began assembling a tray of tea and pineapple buns that Won-shik’s mum insisted he take home. He had never paid much attention to how Dad made his tea so he had to do a netsearch on his new port. While flicking through different recipes, a comm from Jenny popped up as a banner on his screen.

Jenny: heres a new conspiracy theory for yìchén

The link opened to an article declaring that Escort droids are aliens sent from Planet x7-12 in the Corneia galaxy to transform humans into mermaids through micro-radiation.

Kai left the message as Seen. Yìchén may be a little eccentric, definitely skittish, but he was still their friend. Kai didn’t like making fun of him. Jenny seemed to enjoy tearing apart anything that didn’t conform to her own misanthropy. Kai wondered—if he started to do something a little radical, would she be sending off jeering comments about him to her other friends?

Once the cups were no longer scalding to the touch, he tasted the jasmine tea with a spoon; it wasn’t as good as Dad made it, but then he didn’t make it as good as Mum either, so it was fair game.

He took the tray to Dad’s office at a serv-droid’s pace, careful that the tea didn’t slosh over the rims of the cups. It would have been smarter to pour the tea at his destination. Alas, Kai had never carried a tea tray before.

It was thanks to this cautious approach that he heard Dad’s words drifting down the hallway and could pause before he was heard.

“We’re talking about war, Torin. That threat isn’t going to just go away by exchanging pleasantries before and after meetings.”

Kai gripped the tray tighter. He crept forward, keeping the cups steady and listened to his father’s escalating voice.

“Of course not, Your Majesty,” said Konn Torin, Dad’s grouchy old adviser. He had been adviser to Kai’s grandfather and if he somehow managed to be immortal, then he’d probably stick around to be Kai’s adviser when he inherited the throne in about fifty years.

Kai guessed that he liked him. He didn’t like when Torin told him to stop slouching.

“So why doesn’t Camilla understand that? Or any of them on that stupid panel? Do they not realise the gravity of this?!”

He held his breath. He had never heard Dad this angry.

“Perhaps—” Torin hesitated, “perhaps they have not been made privy to the same information we have.”

“What? What do you mean?”

Torin sounded unsure. “A conversation I had with Governor-General Andrews. He seemed rather flippant about the matter. He ventured so far as to say that Levana was, ahem, ‘bluffing.’”

Dad laughed incredulously. “Bluffing? Are they having the same meetings with Levana as us?”

“Actually, I would say no, Your Majesty.”

Dad was quiet for a while. Kai’s fingers were turning white around the knuckles.

“So Levana is isolating her threats to us,” he said finally.

“That seems to be the case.”

“Because we’re her main target,” he growled. “That’s why she killed off her husband, isn’t it?”

Kai blinked. He had heard that Levana’s husband had died, but it hadn’t been big news. He was a mere guard. It was unsettling to hear Dad call it a murder in such an undisguised way. At the time of its announcement, he had never implied such a thing.

Kai knew being the emperor meant keeping secrets. He hadn’t known that meant keeping secrets from him.

“Come now, Rikan, we don’t know that she seeks a marriage alliance yet. They have nothing presently to offer us,” said Torin persuasively. “They don’t have any bargaining chips for such an arrangement.”

Torin’s confident assurance was marred with a tinge of doubt. Dad was not convinced.

“For now. But they’ll make a reason.”

Dad. Always the optimist. Always able to find a silver lining.

No. Mum had been the optimist. Maybe he had been mimicking her, pretending to have the same steady faith that she had for Kai’s sake. Maybe internally things weren’t as okay as he always made them out to be. 

War. Threats. A marriage alliance?

His hands tremored, sending a loud rattle through the china.

Kai heard the dual intake of breath from inside the office. He finally reached the door, peering inside with trepidation.

Dad’s tight shoulders relaxed at seeing him. “Oh, hey Hǔ zi, How long have you been there?”

“I just came now,” Kai lied. He lifted the tray. “I, uh, wanted to bring you some tea before the conference.”

He smiled warmly. “That’s very kind of you, Kai.” He sat as Kai walked over to the desk, laying the tray down gently. “Would you like some, Torin?”

Torin coughed, hands tucked behind his back. “No, thank you. I’m quite quenched as it is,” he answered, abstemious as always. From the significant distance he maintained between himself and the desk, he had probably surmised that this was Kai’s first attempt at making tea.

Dad sent Torin a long, pointed look. “Take a seat, Torin. Have some tea.”

Torin sat as ordered and Kai poured a cup for each of them. It was unnerving—his father, moments before ready to rip out Levana’s throat, and now the soft, gentle father he’d always known. 

“Dad,” Kai started, a little shakily. “I’m sorry for getting mad at you on Thursday. I know how important your responsibilities are. You don’t have to give them up for me.”

He smiled sadly, “Thank you, Kai. I’m sorry I can’t always spend time with you. I want to—all the time.” His eyes shone and he reached out to graze Kai’s cheek. “You’re a good boy.”

He should feel indignant being referred to like a child, but Kai just felt warm and safe. “Thanks, Dad.”

He retracted his hand to sip his tea and beamed. “Tastes great! What do you think, Torin?”

“Delicious,” Torin said in the way he might have if Kai had left a rodent in the cup.

Kai shuffled from foot to foot. “Dad? What’s happening with the Lunars?”

Dad’s openness turned wary. “Why? Did you hear something?”

“Just…something some classmates said,” he fibbed, trying to sound nonchalant. “Are they going to declare war on us?”

“No. I won’t let that happen. They are…testing our patience at the moment. But don’t worry about it too much.” He reached for Kai’s hands, grasping them firmly. “I’ll protect our people. I’ll protect you.”

At that, Kai rounded the desk and enveloped him in a hug. Dad squeezed back. “I don’t wanna go to Changbai anyway,” Kai murmured into his shoulder. “It’s not cold enough for skiing. Let’s leave it until winter.”

It wasn’t true. Kai did want to go, but as he felt his father sigh in relief, he knew he had made the right decision.

He broke away and headed to the door. “Good luck with the conference.”

“Thank you, buddy. I’ll see you at dinner.”

On the way back to his room, Kai dwelled on these facts: 

1. The threat of war with Luna was very real, 

2. If Dad believed Levana had killed her husband, then she had certainly killed her niece, and,

3. It was the duty of the prince to do something to stop her.

But what?

———

He had a nightmare on Sunday. A woman was hovering over him, blood dripping down her fingers that gripped the handle of a knife. He couldn’t make out her face—he didn’t know her, not really, but she knew him. All that was visible in this dank, foggy mist was her gleaming, sharp teeth and black eyes, shining as he crawled up to him.

“You won’t get away from me,” she sang, though it was more of an echo, paralysing him to the floor.

She lifted her hand and he cried out, covering himself with his arms. But as she took the plunge, her direction shifted.

It landed on a girl next to him. She rolled away just in time, but the woman was undeterred, readying herself for the next strike. The girl was young, younger even than him, and she was crying. “Please,” she begged him, “Please! Stop her!”

The hysteria in her pleas broke through the spell rooting him to the floor. His arm shot out and grabbed her, pulling her away seconds before the blade pierced her heart.

“Thank you,” she gasped out. His mind blinded him to her appearance, her features, the true tone of her voice. Yet Kai knew her name. And he knew implicitly, that now he had helped her, she would do her part and help him.

———

Kai combed his fingers through his hair in the hover on the way to school. He had overslept, spending his precious hours of sleep pacing the floor, trying to shake off his nightmare. When that didn’t work, he had analysed it. Broken it down as though it were a vision sent from a deity.

He eventually wore himself to sleep. When Nainsi rolled in to rouse him at 8:15 (activated when he hit snooze for the fifth time) he only managed to dress, brush his teeth and stuff a croissant into his backpack just before his hover left without him.

Deeming his hair acceptable, he opened his bag and rummaged around for the croissant. The hover slowed to a stop. 

He glanced outside. “What’s wrong?”

“We are experiencing a minor delay due to traffic,” the robotic operator replied.

Kai saw a row of a dozen hovers piled up in front of them. “There’s never any traffic here.”

“This route is usually clear at our normal departure time, however as we are precisely seven minutes and thirty-eight seconds behind typical schedule, traffic conditions have worsened.”

He groaned. Homeroom started in eight minutes. He drummed his fingers on his legs, calculating. “How much longer will it be?”

“Approximately four minutes and twenty-one seconds.”

Gathering his bag and coat, he unbuckled his seatbelt. “Drop us to the ground.”

The hover began to descend. Kai flung open the door before they had even reached the street.

“Your Highness, the journey is not complete,” the feminine voice objected.

“I’ll run!” Kai yelled, jumping to the ground and taking off. He sprinted to the end of the street, tearing a bite from his croissant and nearly knocking over a pedestrian and a chihuahua dressed in a pink jumpsuit. “Sorry!” he called out.

The academy came into view as he turned the corner, some fellow late stragglers rushing out of hovers. He checked his port watch. Six minutes to homeroom. 

As he dashed up the courtyard and into the locker bay, he received a good helping of bewildered stares. Reaching his locker, Kai folded over his knees, gasping in air as his heart pounded in his temples.

A chuckle cut through his wheezing. “Hey, whatcha running from, Prince? Finally realised what was coming for you?”

Kai closed his eyes, holding out a hand. “Later Lijun, I don’t have time for this.” 

Lijun looked positively furious when Kai opened his eyes, but he just turned, pressed his thumbprint to his locker keypad and stuffed his bag inside.

“Oh, so you think you can just talk like that to me, huh?” Lijun snarled, ripping the pastry from his hand. “You think you can just—”

“Yeah, yeah, harass me later, I gotta go.” Kai seized his wrist, took another bite of his croissant, and sprinted away. Lijun would make him regret that later. But he had greater priorities right now.

The digital clock above the school’s trophy cabinet read 8:47. Three minutes left.

It took a good deal of force to weave past the loitering students blocking the hallway. Eventually, Kai found his target by the library door. Yìchén was engrossed in his portscreen, loudly making sound effects as he swung it around like a steering wheel. “Yes! Triple hit!”

“Yìchén!” 

Yìchén lept in his skin, dropping his port and only just managing to catch it midair. “Kai! I hadn’t saved that level,” he moaned.

Kai raced over. “Is Jenny here?”

“She said she’s hanging out with Myla today. Something about being sick of our testosterone-fueled—”

“Good. I need to talk to you. Without her.”

Confusion was scrawled across his face. “We have homeroom in only a minute.”

One minute. No time for formalities then. Kai grabbed his shoulders, ignoring the Game Over chime from the port and the mystified look in Yìchén’s eyes.

“Tell me what you know about Princess Selene being alive.”

Notes

Did you know that every member of the Rampion Crew has a short story about their childhood EXCEPT for Kai? This is an egregious oversight and I had to remedy this immediately.

Btw this is set when kai is 13 because right now cinder is 11 and waking up for the first time so it’s like princess selene is waking to the world and to kai!!

虎子 (Hǔ zi) means tiger cub in Mandarin

@cindersassasin @hayleblackburn @spherical-empirical @salt-warrior @just2bubbly @gingerale2017 @kaider-is-my-otp @slmkaider @luna-maximoff-22 @kaixiety @snozkat @mirrorballsss @skinwitch18 @bakergirl13 @wassupnye @linh-cindy @therealkaidertrash21 @winterrhayle

[dr-futbol-blog]

Epiphany, Pt. 4

McKay cannot hear Sheppard shouting his name beyond the portal, having spent hours separated from the others by this time, but McKay is definitely thinking about Sheppard just as hard as Sheppard is thinking about him. McKay rips out a bouquet of flowers that he intends to send through the portal, symbolically passing them on to Sheppard. And because Ronon and Teyla seem to have no idea why he is doing it and are wondering if he has lost his whole damn mind, one or both of them must have thought that McKay was doing exactly that, picking flowers to send to Sheppard.

McKay: To test a theory. Work with me here, people! Look, if I'm right, we need to hurry. Dex: What are you doing, McKay? McKay: I am trying to determine how much faster time is passing on the other side of the portal than it is here.

But as always, there is a method to McKay's madness and he has an actual reason for doing this. What is interesting is what McKay says here. He is clearly answering a question, and he looks at Teyla as does, only we heard no question. Either Teyla had asked McKay a question that we simply did not get to hear or he was answering an unspoken question on her face or even in her thoughts. It is not impossible for adrenaline to heighten what ever abilities the Ancient gene might have given McKay, and just as always, he does not even need to be aware of anything strange taking place. McKay is not particularly good at reading other people and yet here he is answering a question no one asked but they definitely thought. This is even lampshaded by the question that Ronon does then voice, which has basically the same meaning but is the wrong syntax for McKay's answer.

McKay's solution is clever, using living matter to figure out the time-differential. At the back of his mind he already fears that this is true but he needs to know for sure before he can start figuring out what to do about it. His task is made more difficult by the peanut gallery suddenly having lost all faith in his abilities, and again we can see how differently people treat McKay when Sheppard is not around. While Sheppard might have hurried McKay, it is doubtful that he had to have fought his way to figuring this out with Sheppard if it had been Ronon or Teyla that had fallen to the other side.

Teyla: Why would time progress faster? Dex: It doesn't make any sense. McKay: That is what I am trying to prove! Now, just wait. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine... Dex: McKay... McKay: ...ten, bear with me, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, and twenty. A lot faster!

McKay pushes the flowering branches into the energy field just as he had done with the MALP-on-a-stick earlier, holding it out like a fishing rod. Ronon seems to be at the end of his patience with McKay, and we see Teyla exchange a look with him, rolling her eyes. Both of them seem incapable of understanding what the problem is and why McKay is acting so strangely.

But let us make note of this: McKay is not counting out seconds here. It is a known method of calculating approximate seconds to add some multiple syllable word (Mis-sis-sip-pi, hip-po-po-ta-mus, one-thous-and, steam-boat) after each integer because people usually have a difficult time approximating seconds and counting out loud, people tend to speed it up without meaning to. And while McKay is a Physicist, he has a notoriously poor sense of time that may at least partially be explained by his tendency to dissociate. So while he may think that he is counting seconds here, he is actually counting much too fast. And it could even be that because Ronon and Teyla are both rushing him, are demanding proofs and answers before he can produce the evidence that he feels like he has to do this faster than he ought to. He keeps the branch in as long as he dares under Ronon's gaze and it is enough to prove his point. He may not get an accurate evaluation of how fast time is passing on the other side but it is enough to both get a ballpark and to convince the others of the nature of the problem. Sheppard is in trouble.

When we return to Sheppard in the cave, over 8 hours has passed for him. He is starting to sound defeated, his exhaustion showing in how he sits down on a rock in order to try to contact the others again, hoping against hope that they might answer him this time. He seems to be switching between addressing all of them and speaking to McKay because, not knowing about the fact that time is passing much more quickly for him, he thinks that McKay should have been able to figure this one out by now. He has such absolute faith in McKay's abilities that he has been expecting them to bust through the barrier ever since he got pulled through. He is living in "any minute now..." mode, and it is trusting in McKay that makes him unable to give up. But he is getting concerned.

Sheppard: Can you hear me now? The cave opens up to the other side of the ridge but there's nothing in the immediate area I can survive on.

The wide shot of Sheppard emphasizes how alone he is in the cave. We also see him toss the radio to the ground. He opens the radio, opens his mouth to say something more, but then decides against it, getting up and talking away from the radio despondently. He is clearly close to giving up. He is close but not quite there, as next we see him, he has retrieved the radio because he has a few more things to say to the others, and now he definitely seems to be talking to McKay in particular. We also see that he has quite the stubble going on, showing us not just the passage of time but how fast his facial hair grows on the man with a near-permanent five o'clock shadow. By now, it has been over a day for him meaning that this is taking place c. 15 minutes in.

Sheppard: OK, that's day two and I'm out of water. We don't leave our people behind. Right?

The first part here is Sheppard giving a sitrep, he is still trying to do the responsible thing and hold on to protocol, to help them help him. On the off chance that anyone would be able to receive his communique, he is giving them pertinent information. But the second part, while it may be something that he has tried to instill on his team through personal example e.g, by coming to rescue Ronon and Teyla from their cell recently, it is something that is a particular tenet of the US military for which McKay has been contracting for many years, which they both serve. Not leaving their people behind is something that the SGC lives by, it is something that he knows McKay would understand. But it is protocol, and by appealing to that he is showing the seeds of doubt that the prolonged loneliness has been sowing in his mind. So far, McKay has always shown up for him. When ever he has needed McKay, he has been there.

And it is not out of duty that McKay has come for him, has tried to save him again and again, but out of love. McKay had only just risked his life out of love for him, and while he might have had a few choice words about that for McKay that we never got to hear, he hadn't really meant them. He had meant the part about McKay not risking his life for him, but that did not mean that he did not want and need McKay to come through for him in a pinch. And this is beginning to feel like a real pinch. A part of him is offended that McKay has not come for him yet because he thinks that the others are literally standing a few feet away, how hard can it be? There is a note of bitterness, even anger in his tone here. He expected more from them, he expected better.

Sheppard: How about sending me a signal to show me that you're still there? Doesn't have to be a rock, you can write a damned note.

But just as soon as he has that out of his system, he changes his tone. And his tone is so soft here that he can only be speaking to McKay. He is speaking to a lover, pleading to hear from them. He just wants to know that McKay is still there, nothing more. He wants to know that he is not alone. And let us underscore the fact that he is not saying that he wants a note in order to know that they are working on it, that they are coming for him. He just wants to know that McKay is still there. We also get confirmation that he is speaking to McKay here in that in real time, McKay only too late realizes that he should have sent Sheppard a note. He thought about it but likely because he had to fight Ronon and Teyla the whole way there, he simply did not have bandwidth to think about everything that he should have done for Sheppard. But a note was on both of their minds. Communicating with the other through time and space. Touching base. Letting the other know that they were thinking about them.

Sheppard: I'm gonna turn off my radio for another six hours to conserve the battery, and try to get some sleep. Sheppard out.

Here, Sheppard lets them know that he is going to shut down his radio so that they do not worry if they don't hear from him for a while, letting us know that he is thinking about them. But what is interesting is what happens between the things he says. After basically begging for McKay to send him a note, anything to let him know that he is still there, Sheppard opens his radio to say something more. He waits for a beat, and then closes the radio. There was something that he wanted to say but then thought better of it, made the decision not to say it. Or he chickened out from saying what he felt like saying. He is tired, apparently not having been able to sleep for the whole time that he has been there. And now he says that he will try to get some sleep, which also tells us something, given that Sheppard seems to have developed that soldier's skill of getting Z's whenever, where ever. This is also another case of Sheppard updating McKay on his sleeping plans and arrangements because for some strange reason Sheppard seems to feel the need to keep McKay apprised of that.

Sheppard takes a seat against the wall so that he is facing the portal, that he will be ready there the moment McKay will come to get him. He wants to stay as close as he can to where he knows he had last seen him, his last known whereabouts. It is not unlike we saw him try to sleep on the hive in the previous episode, the wraith worshiper pressing herself against his side. But let us note the way he rubs his own thigh here, seeming to give himself some comfort with the touch. While we cannot be sure when the last time was that he actually had some sleep with McKay, given both of their preference for sleeping on their left sides, the hand rubbing his own thigh would have been the same hand with which he could have held on to McKay when he did sleep with him. We might interpret it as such in light of his propensity both for self-soothing and auto-erotic touching. Touching someone's thigh with his right hand just as he closes his eyes may be a way of keeping someone close to him even when they are not there.

Continued in Pt. 5

[gridgamesgalore]

hi it's me symph 😈😈😈😈(@unluckysymphteen)

what is this experiment au about. I'm intrigued /gen /pos

forgor to add trigger warnings kill me uh so tw for mention of suicid ,, death ,, and eldritch horrors and and bad thigns and rah death death

ok ok ok so its like going to be hard to explain but basically eleven died mysteriously [ i love eleven dont get me wrong she just died for the plot ]

so fifteen was trying to discover how this happened by trying to ask the higher step squads up to ten if they had any info and none of them had it !! and the only big step squad that was avaliable is 91 since 66 is in jail for disasterly crimes and we dont talk about 78 [ luggage seveenty two is NOT the triangular number of tweb get ur facts right ] but fifteen had one problem ; 91 was isolated up in the mountains !!

and then fifteen sent 26 flingty-bun to go find her and bring her back but since the hiking was too waitsome for her because shes an impatient bitch for once and gathers seven and thirteen to like multiply them together so 91 could arrive faster

but fishteeth missed one thing ... you can only get 91 by addition because if you multiply 7 by 13 in this universe very bad things will happen !!

so thirteen and seven got multiplied and got turned into an eldritch abomination which proceeded to kill like alot of integers like eight and and and twenty fork

one day ,, tweb was investigating what happened to elevatorgram and while searching for clues she saw the terrifying amalgamation of 13 and 7 and tweb was like " holy shit ,, what the fuck !! " so tweb started putting together these files of what that thing was and titled it " the ninety-one experiment " [ haha get it I'm so clever ] and found out it was fish teeth doing

so tweb confront fish teeth and like fish teeth kept trying to gaslight tweb that it didn't haplen and at this the point tweb couldnt deal with arguing with fifth team anymore and just exited the building

eventually tweb couldn't take it anymore and commited sayori challenge and passed the files onto grid game galore guy ; grid game galore guy studies the files and encounters what used to be 72 ,, so griddy gyatt galor run as fast he can to get away but severely teeth too also fast cause tweb factors but the wondrous calendar guy save griddy gyatt !! [ calendar apart of group who kills the mutation guys ]

seventy two algamation wasn't even made by fish teeth though ,, it was made by evil self proclaimed scientist fity nine !! who was inspired off the entity xci / 91 experiment / 13 and 7 eldritch monster thingy !! she got 3 victims of her doing ,,, sevenrtu twoeo ,, the nation of america [ fity fike ] ,, and suepr cube of tree [ twneyr sveen ] and fishteeth found out about this so she proceeded to give fity nine 97104 diseases including rabies to the power of the value of 64 from dekrimal to dozenal and made it so she cannot die from these diseases so 59 can feel nothing but pain so silly so jolly !!

uh ans to basically sum up the rest ; fishteeth feed griddy gyatt his dead daughter [ tweb ] ,, grid games put in psych ward ,, fishteeth try to lure eighteen and sixteen into lair to show them mentally ill painter who can predict future in psych ward ,,, stupid ass zesty gay bigender quare of 6 break out of psych ward mentally illness ,, broke fishteeth spine after fishteeth shot them with her bazooka and machine gun 50 million times ,, flingty-bun come in shot quare jn head and heart ,, quare say the cursed words and split flingty-bun in half no thriteen cause the xci thingy ,, and quare gets beaten to death by sixteen who was almost choked to death by quare ,, griddy gyatt get taken to camp and 200 pump heself ,, and yadda yadda xci gets put down by calendar guy and forky cause that thing ate he dog and then all hell breakd loose and forty two turns into a god and sends everyone to different universes ♡♡♡♡

therea more to this but I spent like 15 million years writjgn thi I ♡♡♡♡ I hope you all enjoy gusydgs my au lore oh yes so splendid ♥︎

[nonstandardrepertoire]

Parashat Vayeitzei: בָּגָד | bagad

If you turned this one-word Torah project into a parashah, you’d get parashat vayeitzei. The portion carries forward the narrative story of the Jewish ancestral families, yes, but it’s also obsessed with individual words and what they mean.

Specifically, it’s obsessed with names. Twelve of Ya’aqov’s thirteen named children are born in this parashah, and each time one of the sons is named, there’s a little explanatory gloss giving a reason that he was named what he was named. (The exception, of course, is Dinah, the only daughter, and the only child named without an explanation. There may be room here to expand on traditional trans readings of Dinah [a] to understand her as self-named, reserving the explanation of her choice to her own private thoughts. Goodness knows she deserves to have control over whatever she can in her own life, given everything she goes thru.)

[a] In Bərakhot 60a of the Babylonian Talmud, Rav explains that Dinah was originally conceived as a son, but then נֶהֶפְכָה לְבַת | nehefkhah ləvat | “was transformed into a daughter” due to Divine intercession.

These naming glosses are sometimes described as etymologies and then critiqued for their sometimes lack of scholarly accuracy, but etymology isn’t really the goal here as much as explanation. It’s like saying, “Oh, I call him Frankie because he’s honest to a fault” — you’re not explaining the philological origin of the name, you’re explaining what the name means to you and why you chose it in this context. And so it is with the names of Ya’aqov’s sons.

But curiously, one of these explanations is emended. We’ve talked about these emendations before — moments where the scribes who fixed the text in its final form looked at the text they had received and sought to fix a typo or the like. There’s one here when Lei’ah explains the name of Zilpah’s first son, Gad. In the emended version, she explains Gad’s name by saying בָּא גָד | ba gad | “Luck has come!” (Bəreishit 30:11). But the uncorrected text drops the silent alef and runs the two words together into one: בגד, which you could take as either a strict contraction bagad or perhaps as a more grammatically fragmentary bəgad | “With luck!” [b].

[b] There is some evidence for the existence of a g-d called Gad in the Ancient Semitic pantheon who had power over chance, fortune, and luck, which creates a slight ambiguity here as to whether the gad in the text is just the generic Hebrew word for “luck” or a proper name of a g-d of Luck, not wholly unlike how “hope” in English can be a generic noun for a feeling or a specific person’s name. Ryan Thomas argues (in “The [G-d] Gad”, Journal of the American Oriental Society 139 (2021): 307–16) that G-d isn’t really an independent deity at all but rather just a common epithet for the local g-d in charge — much as many contemporary Jews might refer to our G-d as “HaMaq-m” or “Sh-khinah” or the like.

This is all linguistically fairly uncomplicated. Two verses later, when Lei’ah names Asheir, she uses the same fragmentary בְּאׇשְׁרִי | bə’oshri | “With my happiness!” construction that the unemended consonants of verse 11 imply, so we might prefer “With luck!” to “Luck has come!” as a reading, but the emended version doesn’t pose any particular problems, and there’s lots of variety in the grammatical structure of the various naming explanations, so one structural parallel is hardly decisive.

Instead of teasing out a problem, I’m interested very specifically in the difference between these two versions in the Hebrew text. In this whole word-obsessed parashah, this is the only instance of this sort of emendation; it’s like a tiny sign saying “Hey, something happened here.”.

The difference is slight. Alef, the first letter of the Hebrew alphabet, has a numerical value of 1 — the smallest possible value in a system that deals only with integers — and is all but silent in pronunciation [c]. It is a sliver of a difference, the least amount of difference you can get, almost, before two things are just the same.

[c] Technically, it represents a glottal stop, the little hiccup that separates the two vowels in “Latin” when US English speakers say it in normal speech. This is already not a very pronounced sound, but people with US English as a first and primary language tend to drop a lot of these stops when they pronounce liturgical Hebrew; we like to run our vowels together. So alef is very frequently not just subtle but nonexistent, audibly, however up in arms prescriptivists might get over it.

Without the alef, בגד sums to nine in gematria; with it, בא גד sums to ten. Nine is the value of אָח | aḥ | “brother”. Ten is the value of בָּדָד | badad | “separation”. What can we learn from this?

First: Gad shares his brothers’ fate, and also doesn’t. According to the Biblical text, his eponymous tribe is one of the ten conquered by Assyria in 722 BC, whereupon those ten tribes are cut off from the rest of the Jewish people and separated from the rest of our history. So he is a brother to those other lost brothers, isolated from the chain of Jewish continuity by the ravages of empire. Perhaps Lei’ah’s gematrial “Brother!” was a plea that this fate be reversed, that the tribe of Gad persist down thru the ages as a brother to the tribes that escaped Assyrian oblivion, and perhaps the Masoretes’ “Separation!” reflects the sad reality of history as it ultimately played out.

But second: As I said, the difference here is very small. As small as it can be — no word can have a gematria between nine and ten; there is no such integer. And so too perhaps this teaches us that the difference between kinship and atomization is similarly small. Not just as a matter of perspective — Gad being both akin to some of his brothers and separated from others — but as a matter of instruction. Perhaps this, vayeitzei’s sole emendation, comes to teach us that there is not so great a distance between joining together with one another in bonds of trust and community and falling apart from one another in helpless individualized isolation.

And what’s more: This separation is distinguished from kinship not by subtraction, but by addition. It is not that we start out isolated and then add something to bring us together; we start out together and then something comes to drive us apart. And it is a very small something! A miniscule, inaudible something! Something as subtle as a slight hitch in the breath between one vowel and another.

From this we can learn: The roots of separation lie not in grand gestures of opposition, but in the thousand little moments of daily life, moments so small we may not even perceive them. A slight tensing of the shoulders, a subtle raising of the guard. A hitch in your breath when you start to call a man your brother.

[mr-boundless]

my fancast of the Collective

just a fancast of the Collective (or the Multitude, the Integer, the Conglomerate, the Number... What ever the f*ck we can them lol)

highlights meaning they've already been casted

the One - Jim Broadbent (Fussy old archivist, pedantic, logical, bookish, knowledgeable on many Gallifreyan secrets)

Has that look of an old nerd gone rogue

the Two - Michael Maloney (Charming, calm, convincing, reasonable, liar and manipulator)

the Three - haven't chosen for this silly little guy lol (extremely childish, self-centred, bratty, playful, sadistic)

the Four - Paterson Joseph (Boastful, narcissistic, sophisticated, superior)

the Five - Daniel Radcliffe or Martin Freeman (Cocky, concieted, wise-cracking, a confident trickster, a jokester who enjoys annoying his other selves)

the Six - Vinnie Jones (a chaotic, bloodthirsty, maniacal psycho)

the Seven - Robert Carlyle (unscrupulous, rube, abrasive, precise, clinically analytical scientist, prefers elegant solutions)

the Eight - Tim McMullan (the good man)

the Nine - John Heffernan (derange klepto)

the Ten - Julian Bleach or David Bateson (decietful mesmersist)

the Eleven - Mark Bonnar (THE GOAT)

the Twelve - Julia McKenzie (the headstrong, well-mannered and disciplinary granny)

the Thirteen / Madame Union - Maureen O'Brien

[sloppypears-ash-sg]

Thirteen (XFOHV) meets the PaS Integers

Sixty-Nine and Thirteen (PaS) meet Thirteen (XFOHV)! It luckily goes well.

[21rileyking]

*pained math major sigh*

Right, so as previously mentioned, ODD numbers (integers that CANNOT be separated into two equal integers) are or end in the numbers 1,3,5,7,9.

Even numbers (integers that CAN be separated into two equal integers) are or end in the numbers 0,2,4,6,8.

An integer is not simply a number without a decimal, so 5.0 (which is the same as 5, it's true) is actually still an integer, and therefore ten is still even.

Not that that matters, because the statement was about ODD numbers (which ten is not) containing an 'e' (which ten does anyway, in spite of being even).

Because of the way English writes out numbers *squints suspiciously at French*, we only really have to check the spelling of numbers up to eleven. OnE, thrEE, fivE, sEvEn, ninE, ElEvEn. Once we hit thirteen, written out numbers either contain the suffix 'teen', which contains the letter 'e' twice, or it is written in a compound form (ex. twenty-five, thirty-seven, one hundred five, etc.), so as long as the ODD numbers 1,3,5,7,9, and 11 are spelled with an 'e', (which they are) then the original statement holds true.

Please don't ever make me read something like this again. I would like my faith in humanity to remain relatively intact.

Every single odd number has an “e” in it.

[traeuthaeou]

TYPE TALK

The Type of Talk of the most interesting kind , A typo of talk where words linger spoken or not spoken at all but in such A away voice will you need to have noted it spoken on A planet , The Type of Talk of Talk and Talks to Type Talk . Like typing away talking in A way the simplicity of words and communucation , A sincerely insurity of words and words it be the word or reason for an S maybe welcome to the age of texting and typing , A professional might be an amazing typer or texter as one much likely is fair in writing and communication with letters of A kind among integers and numbers the , Oh so interesting Numerology what interest of study of numbers and letters and the alphabet , Sure the interest in designing and maybe the Key to square roof and what's A square root . Sure upon F is letter six and female sex, Two is more then one but two female do not eaqual one male like six plus six only equals twelve , The sincere letter Thirteen male among sex and simple as working in text and typing be it text and type talk just the same the stroke of the fingers and words and silence betowed but test is rather simple as to yes or no and Male or Female Homme or Wood sure God is Man like God is A Male the Princess A Female like God's Daugters for the most typing God and spelling Dog with blessing like Greenparty without Kermit the Frog , But yes over leap frog and lily pad , Typing and Talking in forms and to one massess viral and yes or not to whom it concerns messages like foot notes submitted to the Universe the one verse and Securing the Universities and Throne of University from Talk type to Type Talk or time alone and walk to one self talk , talk aloud talk silently intimate for ones intimacies like what you said and you must of been listening to my stomach i am firmly assure where i may have sent them. Or something is going here ! Sure you may have heard them in head but then you heard me reading aswell like dont to like to tune your voice to match you like the voice in your head should be your selfs of any voice , Oh with music and people works of others can ring true in recall and recollection. The Voices in your head how many voices maybe you celibate enough or to renowned and psychic reading minds like reading words and oh my how i have read your mind , oh to question the brilliants one's mind can produce. Hence i have read your mind , maybe i share some views. Sure the voice of your dad but sweetie that not in your head thos words came out my mouth , you just know you dads voice like you supposed. Experience Mania you heard you dad , The world can go mad or built An impressive Dam , But Holy 4 am . Oh my for A am 4 . And sex of gender over age one under age six male or female intelligence and gender of sex. The Intelligence Business , Monitor and Intellicate people

[kaida427]

I just spent five minutes counting on my fingers to figure out the first set of consecutive positive integers that would fit in a haiku:

Nine ten eleven, Twelve thirteen fourteen fifteen, Sixteen seventeen.

This has been bothering me for days because I use a song to count the syllables and trying to do one two three four five, one two three four five six sev- never worked quite right.

[duxearlier]

PUPPY LOVE

<goshiki tsutomu x reader>

Summary: y/n and Goshiki were best friends since childhood, both of them always stuck by one another and were there when the other needed to. It has been years since both of them saw each other in person due to y/n moving away. But once y/n got back, they are once again unspeakable. Though that is until Goshiki introduces y/n to the team and they get close to one of the members for his liking. I mean, he has always been in love with y/n but was he truly enough for them?

Genre: childhood friends to lovers, angst, drama, fluff

Warnings: Swearing, yelling, teasing, suggestive themes.

Taglist: open

|| the next chapter will be the last one of this smau :] ||

CHAPTER TWELVE

<chapter eleven || materlist || chapter thirteen>

▪︎___________°••>>>*<<<••°___________▪︎

▪︎___________°••>>>*<<<••°___________▪︎

< taglist > @jellysupremacy @k4sumis0u @vixx-11 @mimi3lover @miyamizuna @noodleswastaken @integers @mixplara @sadcatrei

[wikiuntamed]

Five steps of Wikipedia for Saturday, 19th August 2023

Welcome, Dzień dobry, Selam, Benvenuta 🤗 Five steps of Wikipedia from "Hans Jürgen Rösler" to "Addition". 🪜👣

Start page 👣🏁: Hans Jürgen Rösler "Hans Jürgen Rösler (14 May 1920 – 12 January 2009) was a German mineralogy professor. He was the author of a wide range of publications and core teaching texts, including "Geochemische Tabellen" ("Geochemical Tables") and "The Mineralogy Textbook" ("Lehrbuch der Mineralogie")...."

Step 1️⃣ 👣: Abitur "Abitur (German: [abiˈtuːɐ̯]), often shortened colloquially to Abi, is a qualification granted at the end of secondary education in Germany. It is conferred on students who pass their final exams at the end of ISCED 3, usually after twelve or thirteen years of schooling (see also, for Germany,..."

Step 2️⃣ 👣: Analytic geometry "In mathematics, analytic geometry, also known as coordinate geometry or Cartesian geometry, is the study of geometry using a coordinate system. This contrasts with synthetic geometry. Analytic geometry is used in physics and engineering, and also in aviation, rocketry, space science, and..."

Image licensed under CC BY-SA 4.0? by

Original: Mark.Howison at English Wikipedia

This version: CheChe

Step 3️⃣ 👣: Abstract algebra "In mathematics, more specifically algebra, abstract algebra or modern algebra is the study of algebraic structures. Algebraic structures include groups, rings, fields, modules, vector spaces, lattices, and algebras over a field. The term abstract algebra was coined in the early 20th century to..."

Image licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0? by User:Booyabazooka modified by User:Meph666

Step 4️⃣ 👣: Abelian group "In mathematics, an abelian group, also called a commutative group, is a group in which the result of applying the group operation to two group elements does not depend on the order in which they are written. That is, the group operation is commutative. With addition as an operation, the integers and..."

Image licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0? by

Original:

Jakob.scholbach

 

Vector:

Pbroks13

Step 5️⃣ 👣: Addition "Addition (usually signified by the plus symbol +) is one of the four basic operations of arithmetic, the other three being subtraction, multiplication and division. The addition of two whole numbers results in the total amount or sum of those values combined. The example in the adjacent image shows..."

Image licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0? by No machine-readable author provided. Maksim assumed (based on copyright claims).

[cryptotheism]

What is the first integer that has NO occult signifigance?

Oh fun question. Play with me in this space:

I think 14. I know some systems actually use a base thirteen tridecimal system for their numerology.

That said, integers with factors that are also smaller than 14 will also have numeralogical value. Like 42 would have occult significance because it can be broken down into 6*7, both integers with explicit occult values.

So I guess 14, because it can be broken down into 2*7, isn't technically the correct answer. We want the smallest prime larger than 14.

So the answer is 17.

[seat-safety-switch]

Once again, I am tested by my circumstances. The local animal shelter was looking for someone to drive some dogs to their various appointments. That responsibility fell to me, a drivers-license-having individual with a community service requirement with an “exponent” symbol in it in Microsoft Excel, to truck them there. Nobody else wanted to do it, possibly because some of the dogs have what medical experts are calling “the terror shits.”

Naturally, I couldn’t do this in my own car. Not only is the Volare incapable of holding any passengers due to the structural rust issues, but I like to keep the car clean. That’s why there’s the big holes in the floor: any dropped candy wrappers, stray strands of hair, or spilled coffees will just run out when I lift the floor mat on the expressway. No: the animal shelter was very insistent that what I would receive is a 2005 Chevy Express van, white-on-white.

This van was, well, a van. For some reason, everyone I met was apologizing to me about “how old” it was, and how they had “no money” in the budget with which to upgrade it. I didn’t have the heart to tell them that it was several decades newer than anything I’d ever operated, and I was a little bit intimidated by driving something that could go forward and backward, without having to turn the engine off and push it a little bit first.

Still, after a few minutes on the road, I immediately saw what they meant. It didn’t have any soul, this new automobile, being enormously competent at virtually every task. It didn’t shake violently on the highway, all the doors stayed closed, and it could go around corners without the windshield falling out. Soon, I was going an integer multiple of the posted speed limit, still feeling it was too slow because the sensation of danger was no longer prickling its way up my spine. I was practically falling asleep, and when I arrived at the vet’s office an hour away nearly 45 minutes ahead of schedule, I decided something had to be done for the safety of my canine charges.

While the dogs were in the shop, getting their tires rotated, I decided to do a little bit of work on my own. I had been stuck behind a slow-moving BMW SUV on the off-ramp. It was now parked outside a realtor’s office, taunting me with its copious reserve of compressed air and torque. I decided that if they weren’t gonna use their turbocharger, then I should rightfully be entitled to it. After all, it’s for the public good: who would deny these dogs an efficient, comfortable ride? Using the BMW’s toolkit and a piece of parking lot rebar as a lever, I soon had the turbocharger worked off of the engine, dropped out the bottom, and swaged into the van’s induction system. To test it out, I jumped in and pinned the throttle a few times, hearing the delightful whoosh of at least a hundred more horsepower. Yeah. This would do nicely.

All I’m legally allowed to tell you about what happened next is two things. One, the van really was less boring after all this work. The little V8 sang with the joys of forced induction, and the tires smoked well through however many gears this magic future transmission had in it. Two, it was a good thing I was going to the dog groomer’s next, because none of these animals were in a presentable shape. It turns out dogs afflicted with the terror-shits don’t like to pull a deep thirteen-second quarter mile, which is definitely something they should have told me before they gave me the keys.

Not every day of volunteering is going to be perfect. Next time I go back, I think I’ll cut a hole in the floor instead. At least that will make the cleanup easier.