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babiesdreams · 4 years

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Chapter 1: Allies and enemies.

Go check out previous chapters here so that you don't get lost

Word count: 12K ~ 20 pages

Johnny and Jaehyun bodies start reappearing on the same spot they were before leaving the room under the suspicious circumstances that nobody seemed to understand. Taeyong gets up from the floor finally recovering some light on his eyes. “What happened. Are you both okay?” Taeyong says looking at both of the boys alternatively with a worried look in his face.

“We are, but we need to talk” Johnny says in a low tone, completely worried about the situation. “Everyone older than Lucas, including him, come with us” Jaehyun says, backing his friend up. “Wait, Lucas and I are the same age” Mark says angrily. “Not you, Mark” Johnny says in a serious tone, which makes the younger boy give up on his intentions and shut up for the moment. All the mentioned boys leave the room, following Johnny’s steps to a longer and bigger room far enough from the previous one to not let the younger boys hear.

“Okay, What the hell happened?” Kun says getting slightly aggressive. “We had a mission assigned. We just had to follow it and we received points at the end of it” Jaehyun explains, leaving some empty holes to cover up for the rest to understand. “Why did you call us apart to tell us that?” Lucas says, not understanding the separation made by his friends. “Because, the missions are sexual” Johnny says in a low tone. “We don’t know that yet” Jaehyun complains at his explanation. “Our mission was sexual, but we don’t know if all of them will be like this” Jaehyun explains, giving more details.

“What was the mission?” Yuta says with a serious look in his eyes. “We had to-” Johnny tries to explain but Jaehyun stops him. “We had an agreement, what happened in the mission, stays in the motherfucking mission” Jaehyun says holding Johnny’s shirt on his hand in a threatening action. “Fine” Johnny grunts out, slapping the boy’s hand out of his shirt. “So about the points, How many of them did you receive?” Taeil says, trying to calm the heated atmosphere. “One each, and two for the reader” Johnny says looking into the oldest eyes.

“So, if I understood correctly, we fuck, and receive bonifications for it?” Jungwoo asks in a teasy tone. “I don’t see the problem here” He says raising his arms in a not-understanding pose. “Then you tell the virgins how they’re gonna lose their v card in a fucking game with a stranger” Johnny says, agressively getting closer to the boy, who looks away, kind of regretting his words. “Wait, the game forces you to have sex?” Doyoung asks worriedly. “No, It gave us an option to decline the offer, but we don’t know what will happen if we do'' Jaehyun explains.

“We have to figure it out. Whoever is next has to decline the offer” Taeyong says, speaking up after a long time processing the situation. “What? What if we die?” Lucas asks, almost offended by Taeyong’s offer. “I’ll do it then” Taeyong says, challenging the boy with his look. “Declining will not make us die, nor disappear” Ten says, interrupting the, in his eyes, pathetic scenario. “The game wants all 23 of us to play, they wouldn’t let us die so easily. We have to figure out how to get points though”

“By fucking, it’s obvious” Jaehyun replies to him, but ten shakes his head. “It isn’t like that at all” He explains. “Why not?” Lucas asks slightly altered. “You guys had a threesome right?” Ten asks, looking at both of them, trying to read their expressions. “Yes” Johnny replies honestly and Jaehyun reacts instantly. “Dude” He says, slapping the boy’s chest. “What? Does it matter at all? We don’t even know what they’ll have to do in the future. Let’s just not judge each other. Ten, continue please” Ten nods before continuing with his deductions. “If both of you had a threesome with the reader, that means she had sex with both of you, which gives us our first hypothesis. Points are simply a body count. We can actually verify that, on the next mission that implies any of you, because if they get more points, this theory will be impossible and completely wrong” He explains to the group that look at him amused by his abilities. “and what if that happens, and the hypothesis is wrong?” Kun asks genuinely curious. “Second hypothesis: Nothing to do with sex” Winwin finally speaks up, stealing Ten’s words.

“This makes no sense at all” Doyoung says, holding his head in between his hands, in a desperately confused action. “It’s too soon to fully understand the game” Winwin says, tapping Doyoung’s back in support. “Can you explain to us everything that happened, so that we understand the enemy?” Jungwoo asks, genuinely scared now.

“Dude I’m done with this” Johnny says angrily “Enemy? Do you even know what you’re saying?” She’s not our enemy. I don’t know about Jaehyun, but I had fun. It’s true that we didn’t want to at the beginning, but then we both wanted, and personally it was the best sex I had in my life. And the girl was just, perfect, she was all I ever dreamed about.” He explains in a heated tone of voice. “Dude, calm down” Jaehyun says, putting his hand on Johnny’s shoulder, but he puts it away. “No, dude, I won’t calm down. And you also told me this, you love her. We don’t even know her and we love her, how is that possible?” Johnny says almost tearing up.

“The game master” Winwin says looking at the wall. “They will make us do whatever they want, they control us. So in order to defeat the game” Winwin starts explaining. “We need to know the master” Taeil finishes, understanding the logic. “I don’t care about the master, but the reader is innocent, I don’t think she knows what’s going on” Johnny explains, defending you.

“Hyung!!” Mark screams, as he rushes his way to the room’s door. He catches his breath slowly and says “The screen, has lighted up again” He says in between heavy breaths, provoking all of the boys to leave the room, rushing themselves to the “mission room”

The message “Mission Two: Reaction” Can be read on the screen. The boys’ eyes are fixed on the screen, until something appears on the huge table positioned in the middle of the room. All of them look at the objects that just appeared, appreciating the 23 rings. They start grabbing them, until each one of them has one ring.

“The rings will take the shape their owner wants them to be, and it will help you on your missions” The message appears on the screen making the boys turn and look at it. Almost instantly, Taeyong’s ring turns into a fancy looking ring with a red gemstone in the middle, Haechan’s turns into a simple ring with a sun drawn on it and Johnny’s turns into a futuristic looking clock.

The rest of the boys are quite unable to change the rings as they can’t picture them to be anything else but a simple silver ring. “Team 1’s turn” The screen types making everyone look around trying to understand what it meant. Seconds later the older boys start disappearing (Taeyong, Taeil, Johnny, Yuta, Kun, Doyoung and Ten)

They all appear in different rooms, far away from each other so that when Taeyong screams his lungs out, nobody can hear him. The rings of the boys (and Johnny’s clock) lets them see a new screen, this time projected on the air. “Mission: Walking on the reader changing, Team 1” The boys prepare themselves mentally, before two buttoms appear in front of their eyes: “Accept” and “Decline”

All of them press accept, not even thinking about it. All except from Taeyong, who recalls the others’ words from before, about dying if declining, about how it wasn’t that bad… But he also listens to his inner voice, telling him how he must protect the youngest members from this forced situation, how he has to do something about this, get them out of this game. But he can’t decline now, not when everyone’s lives could be at risk. So he presses the “accept” button as well after a couple of minutes of pure hesitation.

The boys appear in front of a door, knowing damn well that they had to open it. Taeyong hesitates at first, but then he’s definitely determined and he opens it up quickly, seeing your half-naked body in front of his eyes. He asks you “Who are you?” And then everything shuts down, with a “Mission failed” message, written all over.

“As it’s your first time, we’ll give you a second chance, act like you normally would to win the game” His ring projects out in front of his eyes. He sighs and opens the door again. After a couple of minutes, everything disappears, letting him alone in the room once again. “Reaction: walking on Y/N changing: Mission completed. Points gained: 0” Appears in front of all of the boys’ eyes.

And like that, their bodies start disappearing once again, to reappear in the common “Mission room” All of the boys that went on the mission look at each other, not knowing what to do. And Kun, taking the lead for Taeyong gets closer to the younger members, explaining how the missions work. “This one is kind of a reaction thing, so you just react naturally to the given situation. You don’t need to do anything at all just be yourselves okay?” He explains and the boys nod, still confused at the situation.

Yuta wanders around the room, looking for some sort of door, or even a clue of how to get out of there. His mind remembers the screen message about the rings and in his mind he pictures the ring turning into a nice necklace with a stone hanging on the middle of it. He smiles looking at how it changes its form on his hand. He then pictures a key on his head, but the picture of it isn’t clear enough to change the object again, so he just puts the necklace around his neck.

Johnny and Taeil try their best to calm Taeyong down, as his shaky hands hide his face from the rest of the members. Taeyong’s sensitive nature really makes him break at this stressful situation. In his mind there are only thoughts of how he should have somehow avoided this situation and protected his friends from this cruel game, but he knows deep down it’s nobody's fault, except for the creator of the game.

Meanwhile Doyoung and Ten discuss some theories about the game’s rules, how to beat it and the rings’ posible uses. Getting to the conclusion that they have one chance to change the ring’s shape in their own benefit. “Everyone, please do not change your rings’ shape just yet” Doyoung shouted loudly. “It may be useful in the future” Ten explains further in.

But all of these situations stop as the screen lights up again, this time with the message “Team 2’s turn” Before the second team (Jaehyun, Winwin, Jungwoo, Lucas, Mark, Xiaojun and Hendery) starts disappearing slowly. They are mentally prepared for this after listening carefully to Kun’s words and they get the job done pretty easily. They all open their doors right away, giving real reactions to the given situations, just as Kun instructed and getting out of the game pretty quickly.

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The common room is filled with different theories, “The writer’s our only enemy” Taeyong says angily. “We don’t know that” Doyoung interrupts him. “They could not be conscious of what is going on” Doyoung explains calmly. “Guys” Haechan says softly, but everyone ignores his words. “Guys!” He shouts, getting everyone’s attention. “We can read what she writes” He says looking at the screen he’s been touching for the past hour.

“What?” Renjun says turning his gaze to the screen. “Look, Here’s Johnny’s and Jaehyun’s first mission. And here’s the first team reaction” He says pointing at the screen. “Don’t read it” Johnny says intensely, running towards the chuckly boy. “You think I didn’t already? Cute” Donghyuck coos at the older boy. “That was private, you little” Johnny says, grabbing the younger boy's shirt in his fist. “Calm down Johnny” Ten says patting his back and he lets Haechan’s body go. “How did you get in?” Ten asks curiously. “There was a password, and it was “nctot23”, not really imaginative, don’t you think?” Ten chuckles lightly at his joke.

“And, the writer’s name is Sam. Look at her first post. Her name is Sam and she clearly has limits established on her writing. Also, she’s asking for requests, which means the readers can actually tell her what to write, but she hasn’t got them yet. Also she talks about how we are the first group, not the only one. Conclusion: She’s clearly a fan and not plenty conscious of this game she created.” Haechan exposes his theory and the others listen carefully. “How do you know she’s a girl?” Jeno asks, still confused at the situation.

“Mainly because of her profile pic, but also because the only fic with a clear gender for the reader is referring to a girl, which leads me to the conclusion she’s most comfortable with that type of fics, as it’s also her first one, so 99% sure she’s a girl.” Donghyuck explains, feeling proud of himself. “Okay, let’s define limits in here. The screen will only be used to get information about Sam, not to read others' fics, as it is an invasion of our privacy '' Johnny says looking fiercely into Haechan’s eyes, who smirks. “Agreed” He says smiling lightly.

As Team 2 gets back in the room, the boys see how their reaction mission appears on the screen. The boys explain the new information to the Team 2’s boys. “This is too much information” Winwin says, getting his hands to his head, exhausted and overwhelmed by the whole situation. “So you’ve read what happened that night” Jaehyun says with fierce eyes looking right into Donghyuck’s, who chuckles. “Yes'' He replies teasingly. “So it’s just fair that we read one of yours when you get them” Jaehyun says, challenging him. He smiles and just says “Whatever, dude, I don’t think I’m Sam’s bias anyway, so I doubt she’ll write about me that way. But if you wanna learn from my abilities, I don’t mind teaching you” He says in a teasy tone that gets into Jaehyun’s anger.

“I’m gonna fucking kill him” He growls out getting up, but Johnny stops him. “It’s fine dude” Johnny says, calming him down. “I still don’t see this as a bad thing. I mean, today’s mission wasn’t even hard” Jungwoo says, raising a brow. “And our youngests friends won't have to do weird stuff, so like, everything’s fine” He explains.

“We haven’t even eaten since we got in here” Chenle says with a pout on his face. “Game, we want to eat” Sungchan says, after the boy’s comment. The screen changes into the lettering that normally can be seen on it. “Food on the dining room ← ” Types on the dark screen. Everyone looks at it and follows the arrow direction, getting into a big ass dinning room, with a luxurious table, set and full of their favourite foods and a lot of different technology devices, 23 phones, along with different game consoles and a huge Tv that could be seen from every corner of the room. Apart from the table, big couches, able to fit all of them and even more people.

Their eyes shine, mesmerized by the expensive looking dining room, which contrasts with the minimalistic common room. “Dude” Mark says. The younger members chuckle and explore around the room, while the oldests get right to the food. Everything looks delicious, the different plates full of food and the expensive wine, beer and other alcoholic beverages. Hendery’s mouth starts drooling at the view and delicious smells. “Thank you sam!” Lucas shouts happily, getting some chicken into his mouth and eating it right away. “Dude, shut up, we don’t know if she sees us” Winwin says shily hitting the boy’s arm.

“Oh I hope she is” Lucas says with his mouth full of food. Ten looks at the plate from where Lucas got his food and points out. “It’s obvious she likes Harry Potter” Chuckling “The food plates get filled when you eat them” He says. “And there’s no doubt she likes us” Taeil says, smiling as he gets some food as well. “It looks like it’s not too bad, at the end of the day” Taeyong says sitting on one of the chairs and Johnny sits next to him, getting his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I told you” he simply says, smiling at him.

Everyone sits up and eats as much as they want. Filling up their energy as they do. The magic atmosphere of the room makes them forget about the whole situation. Well, not all of them forget. Renjun, who’s stayed silent through almost the whole experience, keeps in mind how the youngest members haven’t yet entered the mission, wondering in his head when it would happen. He also can’t help but wonder how Sam would be, how she would look like, how her life was like… Everything was a question without answer in his busy mind.

There’s another member whose mind can’t keep quiet, Sungchan. For him it was strange to see how a fan was writing about him too. Why write about him that soonly? And also was he old enough? He was 18+ but he hadn’t yet had his first time, so he really was wondering about all of that.

After a couple of hours, Team 3 were called for their part on the mission.

Nervousness was constantly present. The boys get into different separated rooms, just like the other Teams did. All of them recall Kun’s instructions about the mission, however Jaemin and Shotaro can’t help but be anxious and hesitant. Jaemin’s mind is busy thinking about which approach he should go for, a sexy vibe or a cute approach. He thinks about the vibe he gave as an idol, of the image fans normally have of him. He thought of that mix of cute and sexy and acted upon it.

Shotaro just was insecure about the situation, after listening to the rest of the boys' plans. The funny approach of chenle, the cute and innocent approach of Jisung, the sexy approach of Haechan… He was just confused on how to react. But he finally decided to let go and react like he would have naturally done.

They finally finish the mission, getting out of the rooms with, yet again 0 point.

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The rest of the members explored the place, which happened to be huge, almost like a whole city. There were three different buildings, equipped with their own kitchen, dining room, and bedrooms, the doors to the three buildings were completely open when they found them.

The first building said “Team 1” The second “Team 2” and the third one “Team 3” So they deduced where they had to stay at night by the labels. Also the outside wasn’t normal. There was a sun, but it was quite brighter than the regular sun, there also were clouds, but they looked fluffier than the regular ones. And the grass? The brightest tone of green. The color palette was really something. At the distance there was a whole city to be explored, but since it started getting dark, the boys decided to just stay in the huge buildings for the night.

The team 1 building was simple, minimalistic and modern-styled. The walls were completely white, the details, and furniture were black, contrasting the walls. The bedrooms upstairs were plain, simple and pretty much non-personalized. There was a lack of decoration in them that made them feel empty.

The team 2 was a castle looking house, more classy, big columns, nice sculptures, huge chandeliers… The general vibes were royalty like (Just like the residents). The bedrooms had more personality than Team 1’s but still pretty basic, given the royalty vibe of course.

Team 3’s building was simple yet fun. There were a lot of different games, technology devices and pcs. It had a neo/ futuristic vibe to it. Each room was a different colour themed. Still there was no personality into them, it was more of like a well decorated, general room exposition (?

Each team entered their assigned buildings. Closing the doors behind them, even though they were alone in that world, you just never know. The boys have a nice sleep, the best they had in years. The beds and buildings were specially designed for having the best sleep and rest possible.

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

Next morning, Doyoung was the first to wake up, going directly to the main door, in search of some fresh air. But when his hand went to open the door it was completely locked. He was unable to open or break it, making him frustrated. After calling all of the Team 1 boys in, they cleared out how it was definitely locked.

The boys tried to scream, to communicate with the other teams, but they received no answer whatsoever. In their heads there was still a possibility that they didn’t close the door, but reality couldn’t be changed.

Meanwhile inside Team 2 building, everything seemed fine, Jaehyun made breakfast for the rest, even if they could have just gone to the great dining room and wished for whatever food they wanted. But he felt the sudden need to cook, and the faces of the younger boys made it worthy. But this magic moment broke into tiny pieces when he tried to open the door to share the food with the rest of the members, but it didn’t open. Just like Team 1’s door, it was locked and impossible to get open.

Team 3 was completely aware of the issue before any of the mentioned noticed. As Jeno and Jaemin saw a lot of bicycles, they wanted to go on a ride around the fantasy looking village. But it never happened, as the door was completely closed. But fortunately, Jisung, who had been playing with the phone he chose from the dining room, thought of a way to communicate.

“Okay, there are only three apps. The first one is the app about the game, where we receive the missions and where the writer posts. The second app is an app that connects the phones with the rest of the devices, so that you can play, watch tv, etc. in here. And the third app is a communication app. It connects all 23 phones together, so we can just talk to them through the phones” Jisung explains calmly. “Yeah but there’s no guarantee that they’ll see it” Chenle says looking up.

“Maybe, but yesterday I texted Taeil to test it, and he responded, so maybe we should try” He says and the rest of the boys give up. “Fiiine” Jaemin says, getting his phone.

--General chatroom--

10:30 A.M [Jaemin] : “Are you locked as well?”

10:31 AM [Taeyong] : “Yes”

10:31 AM [Johnny] : “Yes”

10:31 AM [Jaehyun] : “Yes”

10:31 AM [Winwin] : “yes 😔”

10:32 AM [Yuta] : “Winwin don’t be sad TT”

10:33 AM [Ten] : “Do you all have passwords pads on the door?”

10:34 AM [Haechan] : “Yes”

10:34 AM [Hendery] : “Omg I hate this place”

10:34 AM [Lucas] : “I can’t solve this things 😭😭😭”

10:34 AM [Yangyang] : “Are there hints or something?”

10:34 AM [Taeil] : “Have you all eaten???”

10:35 AM [Jungwoo] : “We should choose a member per Team to talk, os this is going to be messy”

10:36 AM [Haechan] : “Done, I’m my team’s representative member”

10:36 AM [Chenle] : “@Haechan, you’re not”

10:37 AM [Xiaojun] : “Let’s just not talk unless it’s something important”

And just like that the whole chat room went silent, as every team decided to just try to figure out on their own and, if something worked, they could tell each other.

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

Team 1:

“Stop trying, It won’t open” Taeil says exhaustedly to Johnny. The strong boy has been throwing himself towards the door for hours now, making it look even more impossible that it originally looked like.

“So we’re stuck” Yuta says, sitting on a comfy white and black sofa. “It’s because we closed the door, the lock was already designed. but we made it work like that. If we knew that before, we could have changed the password” Ten slowly explains.

“So, can we cook? I’m hungry” Johnny says, finally giving up. “I’ll do that” Kun simply replies before getting lost in the kitchen. “God, I hate this place” Doyoung says, leaving for the outside backyard, getting some fresh air finally.

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

Team 2:

The atmosphere was somehow chilled. The situation wasn’t really planned, but these boys were having a nice time together. Mark, Lucas and Hendery were constantly laughing at each other's jokes. Jaehyun, Xiaojun and Winwin were casually discussing what to try for the password. And Jungwoo was just chilling, trying to enjoy the peaceful atmosphere.

Maybe it was the fact that the place was really comfortable and more than what they could ever wish for, but they weren’t feeling anxious at all, which completely contrasted the atmosphere on Team 1’s building.

“Have you tried 127?” Jaehyun asks. “Duh, It was one of the first things I tried” Sicheng replies teasingly.

Their constant jokes and comments made it the best atmosphere among the 3 Teams.

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

Team 3:

They were all chilling, busy playing games, or watching TV, or using the pc, not really worried about the situation. Except for Haechan, this boy had stuck in his mind how he should know the password of the lock, even if he wasn’t really able to. It was not that he was worried tho, more like he wanted to prove himself.

“No, no, no, Fuck, I missed” Jaemin shouts “You suck at this game” Jeno teased him. “Shut up” Jaemin said, getting into a fake fight with the boy.

“You both shut up, I can’t think” Donghyuck shouts from the door lock. Shotaro, who walks beside him, offers the boy some chips from a bag he was holding “Thank you” The angry boy says, grabbing a chip. *angrily eats the chip*

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Days quickly pass by. Stucking the boys into a routine, based on getting the missions done and returning to the comfort of the buildings. Once they finish their missions, they appear right where they were before, so they’re still unable to exit. The missions can be summed up in something like this:

Members chronicles:

→ How to say this: [+18]

Yangyang was confused. Why him over other members? He wasn’t really that popular and he wasn’t usually the target of this kind of stuff. Yet all of his thoughts disappear when he sees your body, your face, the natural glow on your skin, your perfect shade of hair, you were everything he ever dreamt or wished of. The mission went off just like a lucid dream, a completely perfect one, making him want to stay forever with you.

But when he returned, he faced reality. You weren’t more than just a game’s character, so he really shouldn’t fall in love with you. That was the reasonable thing to do. But his mind… His mind was completely out of reality, only thinking on your face, your hair, your body… Your voice, your smell, your touch. He can’t stop thinking about you, because you were the most perfect thing he ever saw, or touched.

He just can’t quite understand how it is possible. And why he should just forget about you. It wasn’t fair at all.

→ Mirrors:

Doyoung wakes up, heavenly breathing. “Was that a dream or a mission?” His mind wonders, but the points board showing on the projection of his ring confirms it. He moves tiredly towards the shower. He really promised himself not to fall in love during this thing, this game. But how could he ignore the memory of a perfect, real looking dream?

The cold water brushes away his thoughts, letting him free of thoughts, of your memories. The fact that this was all a game made him anxious, thinking you could die or disappear every moment. But mostly, the thought of not being able to know where you were, was just something superior to him.

→ Day 1: Kun. [+18]

His hands were shaking, moments ago they were grabbing your figure in them, your perfectly designed figure. Yet why weren’t you there? Who was the reader? Who was Sam? Why was she so cruel?? Kun’s mind was angrily wandering around the different things that this game gave him, and the one it took away from him. Feeling uneasy, and confused.

→ *Haechan’s pov: “Fuck” He curses, seeing the 23 nights with nct masterlist. “We’re all going in” He didn’t really have a problem with this game, or the situations, but he liked his sexual stuff to stay private, he could get really… Kinky sometimes and he didn’t want the members to judge him.

→ Day 2: Jaehyun. [+18]

“That was hotter than Mission one” He simply thinks, letting his body rest on the comfortable bed. The soft blankets and mattress hug him in, making him sleepy fastly. “I might love her” He simply thinks before falling completely asleep.

His dreams are full of your image, being that the only deep wish of his mind at the moment. His dream recreates the mission, every detail, every moment, every touch...

→ Day 3: Jisung.

“Is this how love feels?” Jisung’s mind was really full of different thoughts. He never experienced something like that before and it wasn’t bad at all. In fact, he felt good, almost happy(?. He couldn’t quite describe it properly… It was just weird. And after a long time lying down on his bed, looking at the ceiling and thinking about everything and anything, he finally got back to his usual self. He played games with the boys and tried to forget about the fictional person he fell in love with, though it seemed like an impossible mission.

→ Mlt tease you.

A survey appears in front of the boys’ eyes. The questions were really weird too. “From 1 through 10 How much do you enjoy teasing people around you?” There are quite a lot of questions but they eventually manage to complete it, the last question was the only one marked as required. “Which member is the biggest teaser?”

The answer was unanimous, “Haechan” “Lee Donghyuck” It was quite easy to determine the boy’s nature.

→ Drawing post.

“She drew me?” Doyoung asks and Donghyuck simply nods. “It’s quite nice, isn’t it?” He says, showing the drawing to the older boy. “Yeah, but why me? Out of all of us, why me?” Doyoung's words really reflected how serious and worried he was. “Maybe you’re special, who knows?” Haechan says shrugging.

→ Day 4: Sungchan.

“Game take me back” He shouts. Sungchan’s screams can be heard everywhere around the building. “I promised her she wouldn’t have to leave my side” His eyes become teary as he shouts the words. “Why did you take her from me?” His voice breaks, getting into a tone that could break anyone’s heart. “Why are you doing this?” He screams even more, yet no answer is given to him. Renjun runs towards him, as the rest stay quiet, pale at the situation.

“It was just a mission Sungchan” He says calmly. “It was more than a mission Hyung” His cries suffocate against Renjun’s sweater. “Sam’s crossing the line” Jeno says, clenching his teeth as he gets out of the room.

→ Day 5: Johnny. [+18]

“Fuck” He whispers. His hands try to hide his bulge as he gets to the shower, trying to calm himself down. He’s heard how everyone’s been sad or mad about their missions,, but his missions were really getting him horny and needy. It’s almost as if they were made for him, as if Sam knew him. The cold water makes his skin bristle.

His wet body leaves the bathtub, getting out with a towel around his hips. Even if he took a cold shower and tried his best to forget about the mission, he couldn’t get his bulge to disappear.

→ Lucas blurb w/ kids.

Lucas appears again, in front of the rest, all of the guys’ eyes fixed on him, trying to decipher what his mission was about. Lucas looks away and walks upstairs, trying to hide from everyone else. “Hey, tell us what it was about” Hendery shouts but Mark hits him lightly. “Dude leave him alone for a while”

Lucas' figure hides in the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. His eyes get filled with tears as he looks in the mirror, looking at his arms, where he previously was holding his newborn child. Tears keep falling down his cheeks, as he felt he lost his whole world, a world he didn’t even know that existed, yet a world he couldn’t live without.

→ Day 6: Taeil. [+18]

“I’m not like that” He thought to himself. “I’m not like that” The thought repeated inside his head. His hand hits his head, as he was trying to convince himself of his inner thoughts. “I’m not jealous” He screamed inside of his head. “I’m not jealous of him” But then he remembers the mission, the way your body felt around him, your moans, his heavy breaths. “Fuck” He whispered.

He lets his body fall into the soft mattress. His eyes look at the white ceiling, but instead of white he sees your image, moving in front of him. Instead of the silence he hears your moans and whimpers. It felt like the movie was replaying in front of his eyes.

→ Day 7: Yuta. [+18]

05:45 AM [Yuta] to [Haechan] : “You had fun huh?”

05:46 AM [Haechan] to [Yuta] : “I wasn’t in, you stupid.”

05:47 AM [Yuta] to [Haechan] : “Okay, okay, don’t kill me, I’m just saying you’ll have fun kkkk”

Yuta’s laughs fill the silent room. “That was fun” He thinks to himself. His smile can’t disappear from his face. He remembers your face, your laughs, your whimpers, Everything is just too blurry to remember, yet too perfect to forget.

→ Roleplay w/ Johnny.

Johnny’s screen lights up showing a notification: [To Johnny: "Hi baby, looking handsome lately ;)"]

“What the hell is this?” He thought to himself. But the screen soonly showed instructions. Answer the reader’s questions/ talk to them. He scratches his head. “How should I answer this?” He thinks, while he remembers the missions he’s been in and starts typing:

[“Okay, first of all, thanks for the compliment, but, babygirl, Who told you to call me baby? Cause they’re so wrong, bet you don’t wanna be a nasty girl. -Johnny suh I like to be called daddy or just Johnny thank you ;)”]

→ Roleplay w/ Yuta.

[To Yuta💕✨ “I might be falling for you deeply” - baby anon.] Yuta chuckles when he sees the message “She’s so cute” He thinks before he types his answer [“Oh baby I don’t blame you for that. But with this pretty words of yours I might be falling too. -Yuta”] He throws the phone to the bed and hides his face inside his bog palms, as his cheeks blush like they never did before.

→ Day 8: Ten. [+18]

“I’m gonna fucking kill that guy” He thinks to himself, but his body disappears from the scene. “Fuck” He says, throwing something to the floor. Johnny enters his room, wanting to check on his friend, after the loud noise. “I need to punch something” Ten says, looking angrily at the floor. “What happened?” Johnny asks curiously. “A dude fucking recorded us. What if it gets leaked?” He says worriedly. “Dude, this is not even real, it was just a mission, remember?”

“Right” He thinks calming down, breathing in and out slowly. His look loses life somehow, as if reality just hit him. “She’s not real” He whispers slowly.

→ Day 9: Doyoung. [+18]

He gets up off the bed, slowly. His lids close, remembering the image, the clear image of the mirror reflection. But this image starts getting blurry, your face, your body, they’re all mere distant thought, memories of what someday happened and what may not ever repeat again. His hand punches the wall, getting some wounds on his knuckles.

He wants to punch himself, he wants to stop his mind from thinking what he’s thinking, but how could he? How could he ever forget this? How could he live out of this game?

→ Chapter 0 .

“It's all written, everything that happened” Jungwoo thinks. He’s been reading the blog too, even if he wasn’t interested at first, he thought knowing the enemy was essential. “We are here because she’s writing it” His inner voice is angry as he’s able to tell now that this is completely Sam’s fault. “I’m getting revenge someday” He finally thinks, putting his phone away.

Haechan on the other hand, had another vibe when he read it. “I think she just wanted to write something different, I don’t think she knows we really exist” He explains. “Well that makes sense” Jeno says, understanding his words. “But that means she’s not gonna be able to take us out of here. Because she doesn’t know we’re here” He says looking down. “I guess” Haechan replies. “But honestly, it isn’t so bad, is it?” Yangyang says from a distance. “I mean, this place is really comfortable, and the missions aren’t dangerous”

“He’s right” Jaemin agrees as he eats some snacks. “It isn’t that bad” Chenle looks at him offended. “Well it could be better decorated. I hate my room’s wallpaper. It’s so ugly” He says and Jisung laughs “At least we have games, I heard Team 2 members live in a palace, they don’t have technology” Jisung says laughing. “A palace?!” Chenle’s high pitched voice screams “That’s so unfair” His disappointed voice says.

→ Reaction clumsy

Team 1 talked all night about Chapter 0 and how it could affect them. The change of topic in the posts was something really dangerous. From basic romantic stuff to a far more detailed and thriller matter. That meant the topics could change to very different matters, putting them in danger. That’s why they decided to break the game, break it from the inside.

The boys planned on destroying the scenario, making it impossible to complete the missions. However, when they were in, nobody was able to break nor do anything, except for Johnny. He managed to punch a wall, breaking it and the game suddenly shut down, for a split second. But it gets back on. This time letters and even the image is glitched, almost like a regular game.

He sees your body and walks towards it, before everything restores completely he whispers at you. “We are trapped in a game you have to do something to get us out” You look at him confused, but his serious gaze gets you doubting about his words. Was he being serious?. “Just act normally for now okay?” He whispers and like that the whole game comes back to its normal state.

When he reappears with the rest of the members he proudly speaks to them. “I talked with her about this” He says and everyone looks at him. “You did what?” Taeil asks. “What? It’s something good for us” Johnny explains but nobody is convinced by his words. “You broke the 4th wall dude” Yuta says scared. “It’s fine” Kun starts speaking while showing them his phone. “She deleted what you said to her, but the file is corrupted”

“Then we got what we wanted right?” Johnny asks but everyone shakes their heads. “We want to break the game, not confuse the reader” Yuta explains while he leaves the room with a disappointed look.

→ Day 10: Chenle.

“NO” He shouts, still crying. “Don’t take her away again” His desperate voice breaks all of the boys’ hearts. “Please” His voice and cries get weaker as he lets himself fall into the ground, on his knees. Jaemin comes inside of the room, while the rest decide to stay away from the situation. “What happened Chenle?” He says hugging the younger boy in his arms. Chenle manages to tell him, in between cries. “You’ll see her again” Jaemin says, trying to make him feel better. “That’s not true, nobody requests anything about me. I don’t know if I’d ever be able to see her again” He whispers, with a sad tone.

→ Day 11: Yangyang. [+18]

“Hey, can we talk?” He asks Chenle and the younger boy nods lightly. “How did she look for you?” He asks curiously. “I don’t know how to describe her, but I remember her dimples” Chenle says as his mind travels back to the previous night. “Why?”

Yangyang looks at him and then looks away “Because mine didn’t have dimples, I guess it’s different for everyone” He says looking down. “I guess we see what we want to see, just like the readers read about their favourites, we get to picture how they look for us” Chenle says, expressing his inner thoughts “That’s why it is so easy to fall for them” He finishes. Yangyang sighs “I guess so… It just… That means they’re not real right?”

Chenle looks at him with a disapproval expression “Not like you see them, but they exist” He simply says. Yangyang sighs louder. “Let’s play videogames” He says as he tries to forget about the mission.

→ Dream of Hc.

“Oh she dreamt of me...Cute” Haechan thinks to himself. He sighs as he reads the words. “Is she anxious?” “Why would she be?” His thoughts fill his mind, completely. “She says she’s not whipped. Sureeeeee Sam, sureee” He uses a teasy tone on his mind and smiles like a fool at the thought.

“We cooked ramen, do you want some?” Jaemin asks, getting into his room. “Yes, I’m coming” HE says getting up.

→ Day 12: Jeno. [+18]

Jeno brushes his hair, looking into the mirror. His hand touches it, as he recalls your face reflected on the mission’s mirror. His hand hits the mirror, breaking it into pieces, but getting fixed instantly. His hand, however, has cuts everywhere, letting blood come out of every tiny cut. He’s not even worried about that. He gets some bandaids from a first aid kit and puts it around his hands, making pressure so that the blood would stop coming out.

His mind just can��t stop thinking about you. Your ghost hunting his dreams and days, he’s not himself anymore and he can’t do anything to make it better.

→ Like this forever XJ [+18]

He lays down on the bed, on a spooning position, just like he was doing on the mission. His hands caress the empty spot next to him, recalling how your figure looked minutes ago. Tears keep falling from his eyes as he hugs the air. “I’ve missed you too” He whispers.

He stays like that for hours until he falls asleep, trying to dream about you so that he could see your face at least one more time. Yet knowing he should not think of you that way.

→ Day 13: Taeyong. [+18]

Team 1’s eyes all look in one direction, helplessly. The girl’s lying exhausted figure in the middle of the room. Her head was bleeding from the hit the strong man gave her in the Mission. “Who is she?” Johnny asks. “It’s the reader” Doyoung says calmly. “No, she looks nothing like the reader” Yuta answers, getting closer to my body.

“Is she dead?” Taeil asks, covering his eyes from the bloody scene. “No, she’s just hurted” Taeyong clears out. “We need her to get info” He finishes. “She’s Sam” Ten finally points out. Everyone owes, not believing his words. “We need to kill her” Yuta says seriously. “Are you crazy? She’s our way out” Doyoung says to him.

“Let’s calm down and wait for her to wake up” Kun says as calmly as he possibly can. “Then we can ask her whatever we want” He finishes, letting the cold atmosphere calm down a little.

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

6th January, 2021

I wake up in a room just like I described, just like I imagined. The boys were all looking at me, intimidatingly. They looked just like I had always imagined, like I had always seen them through my computer, yet I knew they weren’t happy with me at all.

“Don’t touch me or I’ll kill you” I say aggressively, getting ready to fight. “Calm down, we just want to talk” Kun says slowly. “Are you Sam?” He asks and I nod.

I felt the need to explain myself, my actions, my existence. I felt like I didn’t belong in there.

“I didn’t mean to trap you in here...I- I swear. I’m not even sure how I got in here”

I was so scared of them, but I felt like they were also scared of me, I just couldn’t control my stutter.

“She’s lying” Johnny says, looking away from me.

My brows furrow, forming an angry expression. Before I couldn’t control my fear, but now I couldn’t control my anger. This was not my fault, I was sure of that.

“Why would I get myself in here?” I say challenging the boy. “Because you want to do the things you write about with us” Johnny shouts, making me back up. “Shut the fuck up Johnny” Doyoung says, still looking at the floor, as he did since the beginning.

“What?!” I say laughing. “You didn’t get the password?” I tease the boys, who look at each other kind of surprised. I started walking down the stairs, walking my way to the front door, as the boys followed right behind. “Did she laugh?” Taeil asks, still kind of confused. “I think so, It might be an easy password” Yuta whispers to him.

“Do you know how to get out of here?” Kun asks me slowly. I try my best to calm down, breathing in and out slowly. “You mean the game?” I ask him and he looks to Ten and Taeyong, as if asking for an answer himself. “For now, we want to get out of the building” Taeyong says calmly.

My mind is full of different thoughts but somehow the fact that they didn't get the code correctly was so funny to me.

“Look. How many units are there in NCT?” I ask them and they look at each other again. “Four?” Taeil asks, breaking the silence. “I mean, like fixed. The ones that have a defined number of members… there are three right? 127, dream and wayv. Yours was really the easiest. You are the oldest members, so it was in between 127 and wayv. But most of you are from 127 so…”

“So it’s just 127” Ten says, hitting his forehead in disbelief. I nod and press the said numbers on the password pad. The door instantly opens, making a fool out of the boys. “So what about the rest?” Yuta asks, genuinely curious.

“Okay so dream and wayv are based on letters, but the passwords only allow numbers, so you have to convert them. Using a phone, you can see how every number has 3-4 letters assigned, so just like that, you type the word…” I start walking towards the Team 2 building, and stop at the front door. “So.. Wayv, should be 92999888” I say pressing the numbers and opening the door. The view from the inside is quite messy. The combination of Team 2 boys was really something… questionable.

“Didn’t you guys clean?” Doyoung asks with a disgusted expression on his face. “We were gonna, eventually” Hendery says from the inside, with a piece of bread in his mouth. “Who is she?” Mark asks from the distance pointing at me.

“We’ll explain to you later” Johnny says, hugging Mark as I keep walking towards the dream building. then I type 37773326 on the password pad. This time, as the door opens, a far more neat environment can be seen. That said, though, all the boys were eating junk food while playing games, on the main couch.

He follows my steps as I try to get away from him. “I need answers” He says calmly. “I’ll give answers to everyone, but as I said I don’t know everything about this” I say turning back to look at him again. “Tell them to meet me in the dining room… I’ll prepare some things”

I decided to let the boys talk as I went to the main dining room, waiting for them to clear things up. But I got so distracted in my mind that I didn’t notice how Doyoung followed me inside the main building.

He grabs my hand, stopping my steps, only when nobody could see us. “I know you from somewhere” He says looking deeply into my eyes. His gaze could have killed anyone within seconds, but I stayed strong. “I don’t know what you’re talking about” I simply say getting off of his hold.

But, even if I want to ignore his words, they get stucked in my head. Did I really know him? Apart from his idol image... Was there another relationship between us???

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

Doyoung stays quiet for a while, looking at how Sam disappears in the infinite corridor to the dining room. His mind is still confused. He has seen her before for sure. He had to know when and how it happened.

He comes back to the boys tho, letting himself enjoy the cute reencounter moment. He tells everyone what Sam just told him and all of the boys went inside of the main building. When they arrived inside the main building they were all too amazed by how changed inside of it was to notice how Sam turned her back to them. That said, Ten and Renjun noticed the weird movements she made, but they didn’t really think it was important.

The dining room was like ten times bigger now, and the ceiling was so tall that they couldn’t even guess how many meters tall it was. The big table had a fancy vibe now, and the chairs also looked somehow expensive. A big chandelier was the cherry on top to everything. The tiny crystals reflected the white light of the light bulbs.

“How did you…?” Winwin asks and Sam simply chuckles. “Take a seat please. I’m Sam, you also may know me as the writer or the creator of this place. I don’t know how I ended up in here, nor how you guys got trapped in here. But I have the power of modifying and creating things inside this universe. You also have this power in different ways like the…”

“The rings” Jeno says looking at his finger. “Exactly, you can change the ring’s form for your own benefit, though it might be tiring and hard for you. You can also change your rooms and building decorations if you picture it on your mind.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we don’t care about that” Jungwoo starts speaking “How do we get out of here?” He finishes his sentence, finally allowing Sam to talk. “I’m still unsure, but I think it’s related to the points you receive when you complete the mi-”

“So we have to do a lot of missions to get out of here?” Chenle shouts, in disbelief. “Not exactly..” Sam tries to explain but Sungchan interrupts her “I’m not doing this” He says almost getting off his seat. But Sam was faster, as she shut the door, making a loud and scary sound with it. Everyone starts looking at her, amazed at her powers and her reaction.

“Let me explain first. Points aren’t what you guys think. You receive points according to how much the reader falls in love with you” They all look at each other, confused, not quite getting the concept. “The way you act provokes a reaction in the readers, comments, likes or even just their reaction on the fic count as points. And these points are how you get out...I guess” Sam finishes her explanation, relaxing her shoulders now that everyone is more calmed down. “And how will you get out of here?” Doyoung says with a deep and concerned voice. Sam looks at him, confused at his question but also kind of frustrated. “That’s my problem”.

Everyone starts discussing the different topics the new info bringed up. Sam simply starts walking towards the door and disappears in the dark corridors. Nobody is able to notice, at first, though within minutes Mark noticed her absence. When he walked outside, looking for the stranger, he found her sitting down on the floor, eyes closed and head looking down. In front of her, a huge new building was getting built, well at least until she opened her eyes, noticing an unwanted presence. The whole building disappeared like that, not letting a single brick behind.

“I didn’t hear you coming” She says getting up, looking at the boy’s confused eyes. “Your nose…” He points out and she simply wipes off the blood coming from it. “I got beaten up on the mission, don’t worry for me” Her voice sounds kind of exhausted, but she smiles at the boy anyways, in a failed attempt of fooling him.

Another presence breaks the atmosphere though. Johnny’s big arms lead her body, pulling her by the wrist. He leads her to a more private spot and starts talking. “We need to talk. What you’re doing is not fun, and it’s not good for us. This game you created, needs to stop” He says threatening the shocked girl. But none of the words he says get into Sam’s head, as her lids start shutting down and her nosebleed gets heavier.

Johnny’s hands shake as he holds her, shocked and confused as to what happened. His mind is full of regrets and concerns now. “Hey Sam, Sam…” He tries to wake her up, now lying her body on the floor, letting it rest. “GUYS” He shouts, and everyone around runs towards him. “You’re gonna get well, I promise… Fuck… GUYS, HURRY UP” His shouts sound like a father who’s about to lose a child, that level of desperation can be heard in his broken and raspy voice.

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

7th January, 2021

I woke up in a different room this time, completely lonely, or so I thought. By the decoration I guessed it was from the dreamies building. I sit down on the bed’s edge and put my head in between my hands. “You are already awake?” A voice said in the distance and I was able to recognize his tone from miles away.

“Haechan…” My voice sounds like a whine, wishing with all my might it wasn’t him. “Hey, you should thank me, I was the only one who wanted to stay awake at this late hour” He says, not looking away from his noisy game. “Well, whatever, have a good night” I say, trying to leave the room but his hand stops me.

“You can’t go, you’re still not feeling well” He says with a concerned look on his eyes. “I’m fine” I let out with an exhausted tone, but just when I’m about to go, his arms trap my whole body on a back hug. “You need to stay here” He whispers and I simply sigh. “Turn that thing off then” I say, giving up.

He obeys, not wanting to fight for longer. “Okay so… I’ll sleep on the floor” He says looking at the floor, his cute offer makes me chuckle. The spacious room lets me imagine another big bed far enough from the initial one, making it appear right after, just where I pictured it to be.

“You can sleep there” I say, pointing at the new bed, and getting back inside the bed I was previously on. “But this was my bed” He coos. “I already slept in here for hours, why does it matter?” I say turning my back to the boy, who smirks, knowing I couldn’t see him. “Do you wanna know what I did on this bed?” He whispers and that’s enough to make me jump out of it. “EW” I simply comment on the boy’s little teasy chuckles.

Night passed fast enough, though my mind couldn’t rest from thinking how to get out of the game or how I got in in the first place. It had to be with Taeyong’s night, for sure. Maybe the idea of introducing myself into this fics wasn’t the best one after all. But it gave it a different kind of vibe right?... I don’t know, at this point… I just wanted to come back.

“Are you gonna sleep forever?” Hyuck’s voice really gets me on my nerves. “You know… I still control who goes into the missions, It would be a pity to make you suffer somehow....” My teasy tone makes him chuckle. “That’s a lie, You’re just doing requests now, so it depends on the reader” He’s so sure about his words that it is almost concerning. “How did you…?” My voice on the other hand, is confused and insecure.

“I guessed your password, have been reading everything” My eyes widen at his comment. “Everything?!!!” I say sitting down on the bed. “That’s right, I’ve seen your post simping over my photos… You could’ve just told me. And you even dreamt of me so...” He says trying a seductive voice, but completely failing at it. “EW” I shout as I get out of the bedroom. As soon as I step out, Yangyang collapses with me.

The boy was holding a bag of chips on his hand and he had a single chip inside of his mouth. I widen my eyes and apologize to him. “I didn’t know you were awake” He says after eating the chip in his mouth. “Weren’t you supposed to tell us Haechan?” The boy shouts to Donghyuck, who acts like he hadn’t heard it. “Anyways, it’s nice seeing you’re fine” The boy says with a smile. “You should talk with Johnny though, he’s kind of… down” His words vanish as his figure disappears downstairs.

I follow him and get out of the building. Just on the front door, Johnny’s concerned figure walks in circles. When I get out, the boy looks at me right away. “You’re awake, thank god” He says, hugging me. “Umm…” It’s all I can say from his tight hold. “What the hell happened?” He says getting off the hug and looking right into my eyes. My eyes try to avoid eye contact as his gaze was just too intimidating. “I don’t know” I say looking down.

“You’re scaring her” Ten says from the distance. “I’ll talk with her” He says, getting closer. Johnny is still confused “Did I scare you? How am I scary?” He says to me and I chuckle. “You’re not scary, just slightly intimidating” My hand taps his shoulder, trying to comfort him. Ten finally gets closer, taking my holding my arm with his hand and we both walk together into the distance.

“I think it’s your powers” He simply says looking straight up. “I’m fine, I was just overworked. When I overwork myself my nose bleeds, it’s not about my powers” I say looking at him and smiling. “Well, now you gotta take care of yourself. Our lives also depend on yours. We can’t get out of here without you. That’s pretty obvious” His concerned tone makes me realize just how serious the situation is. “I’ll try my best to get you all out of here. I promise” My body stops and I lend him my hand, shaking his as in a promise.

The boy smiles, shaking my hand too. “We need to talk about a couple of things still” I say in a more serious tone and he simply nods.

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

The dining room is full once again, everyone sitting on their usual chairs. Sam’s chair floats in the air, standing higher than the rest. Everyone is looking at her, still amazed by her abilities in that world.

“Okay, First of all, I’m gonna show you how to use your rings to your own advantage. I have this ring of my own” She says getting her golden ring off. The ring is simple yet a heart decorates it. She takes the ring inside her hand and throws it into the air. The ring spins in the air, turning into a phone that she catches right away.

“You need to picture something that you may need, this way, you’ll have it easier on dangerous scenarios, like the one Taeyong and I went to” She shows the phone to everyone, the tiny heart was still present on the phone, being the shape of both cameras. “And if you do it again, it can turn into another thing like…” She throws the phone into the air, making it turn again, this time turning into a sword that she grabs easily.

“You have to be careful with these, and never. I repeat NEVER, hurt another member, we don’t know what happens if someone dies in here” Her tone is quite serious, and her actions are still confusing to everyone. That said, Yuta, whose ring already got turned into a necklace, finally gets it to turn into a pair of green earrings which he shows to everyone.

“Look” He says happily and Sam smiles from her place. “You got it” She says as her chair slowly gets into the ground again. “Now, we need to talk about where I should sleep at least for a couple of days. I tried to make a building for myself, but I’m just too exhausted right now” She explains and the boys nod in understanding.

“She’s already sleeping in my bedroom, we should keep it that way” Haechan says, starting the discussion. “Your building is the one with more people, she should come with us” Lucas replies to him. “With you, the messy team, I don’t think she wants that” Taeil says teasingly.

“We are not that messy” Xiaojun clears out slightly offended. “She should come with us anyways, we are the most responsible team” Kun says to him. “Why does that matter?” Xiaojun replies, even more offended this time. “Hey guys, shotaro wants to speak, let him say something” Sungchan says tapping the shy boy’s shoulder so that he would start talking. “She’s our age, we... should.... be..... together” He says shyly and everyone goes crazy, discussing different topics and which dorm was the best.

“Can we just let her choose?” Doyoung says, already tired with the pointless discussion. “T-Thanks” Sam says, after she had to hear the whole discussion. “It would be just for a couple of days, and I already made a bed into Haechan’s room, and, as much as I hate his presence, I feel like it’s the best option. If anyone wants to change rooms with him, that’s your decision, I truly don’t care about it” She says standing up and leaving the big room.

Everyone stays silent for a while, but then they start arguing about who should sleep in Haechan’s bed.

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

7th January, 2021 - 8th January, 2021

My mind tries its best to turn the ring into a laptop and, after a few minutes, I finally get it. The laptop is a nice shade of white, with golden strides along it, and in the back, a cute golden heart can be seen. I smile, as I’m finally able to rest and simply write whatever comes next.

I put on strawberries and cigarettes and start writing the fic for 🔮 anon. Until a hand poses on my shoulder, I turn back and look into Taeyong’s concerned eyes.

“Is she alive?” He says slowly. I smile lightly trying to comfort him. “Look here” I say pointing at the screen. “It says to be continued. If there’s another part, she’s not dead” A smile appears on his face for the first time since he got out of the fic.

“That doesn’t mean she’s not in danger though. But we’ll figure it out” I say calmly. “As I’m also inside this fic, I’m not the one writing it” He looks at me confused “Then who….”

“That’s what I’m trying to guess” I say looking back at the screen “Can you tell Ten to come here whenever he can please?” He nods and disappears out of the room. But I don’t get much time alone as Donghyuck enters the room tapping my shoulder so that I would look at him.

“What do you want?” I say slightly irritated. “You said you hate my presence and now we are rotating on who sleeps in here” He says with a sad tone. “So what?” I say turning my back to him and resuming my work. “Why would you say that. I know deep down you enjoy my company too”

“The problem is” I start saying “that is soooooooo deep down” I say looking at him for a second with a smile drawn in my face. “Oh come oooon” He whines out but Ten’s steps into the room stop him. “Did you call me?” He simply says supporting his figure on the door frame. “Yes, please, sit somewhere. Haechan get out, this is private”

The boy pouts before leaving the room and Ten sits on a chair next to me. “Look, I got this request, well it was more of like a story that happened to this girl. It is really sad and I just wanted you to know that you should be extra soft with her. I know we’re in a stressful situation, but she needs this” I say, my voice cracking at the middle of the sentence. “Just try your best please” I say looking down, controlling tears from falling down my cheeks.

“Hey, I promise” He says, lending me his hand, so that I would shake it, just like we did before. “We’ll get out of here together” He says smiling and I simply nod at him. He stands up after a minute and steps out of the room. “It’ll be ready for tomorrow, so prepare yourself” I shout and he replies with a “YES” I got some minutes alone, yet again, being alone in a world with that many people wasn’t easy.

Renjun enters the room and sits on Haechan’s bed, while eating some kind of sugary snacks. “Do you want some?” He says lending me the bag he was holding. “No thanks, I can’t eat those” I say with a smile. “You can’t eat them?” He says, widening his eyes, I simply shake my head. “I'm intolerant to a lot of stuff, so I really shouldn’t, plus sweet stuff isn’t really my thing” I say and he lays back on the bed, humming.

“I’m intolerant to Haechan so I get what you say” The boy says and I chuckle loudly. “He really is something else” I say in between laughs. “I’m sorry that you have to share a room with him. Or really with any of us, It might be really uncomfortable” Renjun says looking at the ceiling, getting lost in his words. “It won’t be for long. And I think it’s worse for you guys than for me. I mean… It was my fault that you had to be in here and you’ve all been nice to me. I feel like I don’t deserve that.

Renjun sits down, now looking at me as I talk. “I don’t know about the rest. But I’m happy that you’re here. At least we have something to do in between missions” He says and I look at him confused. “Something to do?” I ask blushing. “Yeah, like getting to know you” He says and I hide my face out of embarrassment. “What did you think I meant?” He shouts in shock. “I don’t know” I reply laughing.

My eyes return to the screen, as I continue writing, after a conversation with Renjun, he gets out of the room. I keep writing and writing, getting some extra fics done, so that I have more time for other stuff later. I check out the clock at the bottom of the screen and my eyes widen at the view [3:30 AM] “Fuck” I whisper before someone knocks at the door. “Yes” I say and the person enters the room. Doyoung’s figure appears calmly and slowly. “We decided to take turns to sleep with you” He explains softly.

“Yeah, Haechan told me about it. That’s his bed” I say smiling, my voice is almost a whisper so soft, so calmed. He simply nods, sitting on the said bed. “You should go to sleep too” He says softly and I nod. Even if I wanted to disagree, I knew I should rest and sleep so I obeyed, getting up and walking towards my bed.

“Do you think we’ll get out of here?” He says, looking down. “I hope y’all get out of here someday” I say looking up as I layed on the bed. “What if we don’t want to?” He says laying on his bed too. “Why wouldn’t you want to?” I say curiously. “This place is nice, we get to rest… I don’t know… I like this” He says sighing. “Well, we can talk about it tomorrow, we should go to sleep” He says and I nod, laying on one side, facing the wall.

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A high-pitched scream and heavy breaths wake Doyoung up. He looks to both sides, confused as to what is happening, until he sees Sam’s figure. Her chest was rising with every deep and fast breath, her forehead was really sweaty and her eyes teary.

“Sam, are you okay?” He says slowly getting closer to her, but she doesn’t answer. Once he sits on the girl’s bed, she hugs him tightly, crying on his shoulder. “I had a nightmare” She says in between cries. Doyoung smiles lightly, appreciating her cute nature, yet worried about her state. “Do you need something?” He says tapping her back.

“Can you…” She tries to say something but stops herself, as if she was too afraid of speaking her mind. “Tell me” He whispers in her ear. “I need to hug something when I sleep…” She says cutely and he chuckles. “Do you want me to sleep with you?” He says pulling off the hug and looking at her right into her eyes. She blushes and says “N-not in like- Nothing weird... Just sleep” She stutters and he smiles nodding. “Just sleeping”

His body lays right next to hers, letting her arms hug his waist. She quickly falls asleep again, which lets the boy calm down for a while.

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

8th January, 2021

“Oh My God. We agreed on this” Haechan’s voice gets me up, as I slowly open my eyelids. Doyoung was already standing up, leaving my arms empty. My cheeks blush as I remember what happened last night. “Nobody was allowed to do that and you know it” His screaming voice really gets into my brain. “For the last time, WE DID NOT HAVE SEX” Doyoung screams back at him.

I get up and look at Haechan, asking for answers. “Was that the reason for your scream last night? What did he do to you?” He says worriedly. “I had a nightmare LEE DONGHYUCK. And I needed someone to hug. He was just nice to me god” I say, already exhausted at the situation. “You had a nightmare?” He says worried. “Are you okay now?” I look at him, tiredly. “I’m fine” I say, tapping his head.

“Also what the fuck was the “we agreed on this” about?” I say tilting my head and the boy simply disappears out of the room. My eyes turn to Doyoung who also leaves the room and says “Good luck on your work” before he completely disappears. I sigh, already tired of being surrounded by 23 guys.

But I’m not able to think for much longer as blood starts coming out of my nose again. “I didn’t even write anything yet” I think to myself, still unsure of what these bleedings were about. I still don't know what it is, but it’s definitely something that concerns me. I’ve never gotten that many nosebleeds in my life. But whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll be able to figure it out on my own.

......................................................................................................Sam.

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keelywolfe · 4 years

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FIC: Not What It’s Cracked Up To Be ch.1 (baon)

Summary: Edge and Stretch are finally getting back on an even keel. Edge's broken leg is healing well, Spring is finally here and the flowers are close to blooming.

Be a shame if anything disturbed their domestic bliss.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Kustard, Established Relationships, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Fluff, Chickens

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

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Read it on AO3

Read it here!

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Stretch had always liked taking a walk on the science side. Even when he was a kid, he’d loved it, digging soggy books out of the dump that no one else wanted about exotic things like physics. Yeah, sure, he’d taken a detour for a little while in his life, spent some time as a sentry in Snowdin, but here in the Aboveground, he’d gotten back into it, reluctantly at first and then with the same enthusiasm he’d had in his striped shirt days. He loved science and experiments, coming up with theories and either proving them or setting them in the ‘learning experience’ pile.

Confirming a hypothesis, that was what he did, but even he had to admit, this was one he could've lived without. But hey, now he had empirical evidence to explain why he was never double-dog-dare ever taking Edge on the bus again.

It hadn't even been his idea. Everyone with a driver’s license was busy today so there was no one to cadge a ride from. Didn’t help that Edge wasn’t exactly great on the passenger side anyway, he took backseat driving to new and historic levels. Even Andy started getting a weird tic in his cheek the last time he gave them a lift and in the interest of not giving his best bud a stroke, when Edge suggested they take the bus to his doc’s appointment, Stretch went along with it.

Yeeeah. He’d made worse choices in his life, but this was hovering right at entering the top ten.

To begin with, it seemed like that when he made the suggestion, Edge didn’t fully realize it would require sitting on a grubby seat inhabited daily by dozens of other butts, something Stretch’s personal neat freak was not keen on exposing to his own pelvis.

But there was no way he could stand with the cast holding his leg together, that was kinda the reason they weren’t taking Edge’s car. Probably the only thing that could make the seats actually tolerable for Edge was a good power washing, but Stretch did the best he could with the baggie of antiseptic wipes he’d stashed in his backpack. That at least got Edge's nonexistent butt in the chair, even if he sat so close to the (heh) edge that one hairpin turn was gonna send him rolling across the floor.

If the universe were kinder, that probably would have been the worst of it. Stretch sat right next to his baby and held his hand for moral support, the bus route took them right past the hospital so there wasn't even a changeover. All they needed to do was sit quietly and get off at their stop. Stretch did it all the time, all by his lonesome. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Only, fate seemed to be in the mood for a different kind of citrus, choosing the path of difficult difficult lemon bullshit because they’d only been sitting for about five minutes when an older Human lady got on. She shuffled on over to sit right next to Edge even though there were a dozen other seats available on the bus and before the bus even pulled away, she’d started talking to him. And talked. And never actually stopped talking.

Blue once told Stretch, fondly and with only a sprinkle of salt, that when Stretch got going, he talked like he was trying to qualify for the chatter Olympics. This lady not only qualified, she’d swept away the competition and gone home with the gold.

To be fair, it was miles better than her screaming and tossing a shoe at their heads, sure, but Edge usually took a while to warm up to people as it was, especially to Humans. Considering that some Humans took one look at Edge coming their way and crossed the street? That kind didn't look at him as a person with feelings who could see them, thanks, even if Edge would never admit how much that fucking hurt, and sorry, did he say Humans? He meant assholes. Assholes saw Edge as a threat before they ever even met him.

Betty White over there wasn't at all put off by the sharp teeth and the crimson eye lights. She'd found a captive audience and watching his baby struggling to be polite while she chatted about her newest grandbaby, complete with actual photos scrounged out of her handbag, was setting off the cringe meter, big time.

About ten endless minutes in she’d shown no sign of losing steam. Stretch did make an attempt to help. His thinking was that if he moved to sit on Grandma Moses's other side, maybe she'd chat with him instead. He was pretty good at oohing and ahhing over pics of the potato babies. But the second he tried to stand, Edge's hold on his hand tightened like an iron claw, hard enough for him to feel the pinch of his sharpened fingertips even through gloves. Whether he was afraid Stretch was going to abandon him to his fate or didn't like the idea of him sitting next to unknown Humans, Stretch wasn't sure, but he wasn’t gonna argue with The Claw.

He sat back down and leaned against Edge instead, like maybe he could osmosis some soothing vibes his way. Never worked before, but hey, it was worth a shot.

Whistler’s Mom paused. “are you two boys…together?”

“Yes,” Edge said shortly. Stretch struggled not to wince as the grip on his hand dug in. The last thing he wanted was another bus fiasco. For starters, Andy wasn’t here this time to play white knight and he seriously doubted the Embassy would appreciate dealing with an all new public relations nightmare involving Edge getting into a street fight with an octogenarian.

So, Stretch put on his very best hundred-watt smile and leaned around his husband to shine it towards the old lady. “yes, ma’am, we’re married.”

He expected maybe a little outrage; he and Edge pretty obviously identified as male and Humans could be, ah, tetchy about that. Enough offense and maybe she’d go move to sit up at the front of the bus. But Queen Elizabeth over there just beamed happily, clasping her hands to her chest. “Isn’t that nice! You two make a lovely couple, aren’t your rings beautiful! Have you been together long? Ah, you’re newlyweds, aren’t you, I can tell!”

Next to him, the tension was slowly draining out of Edge, his kung fu grip loosening. Stretch lowered the wattage on his smile to merely friendly levels and asked, “how’s that, ma’am?”

She gave them a watery-eyed wink, “To begin with, you’re still holding hands.”

That was about all it took to tenderize Edge’s steak. He still didn’t chat, but he didn’t look like he was about to throw himself out of a window at any given moment, piece by piece if necessary, and that was a hell of an improvement.

By the time they’d gotten off the bus, Beatrice had shared a recipe for strudel that Edge promised to try and Stretch somehow ended up wearing a new knitted hat topped with a bright pink pompom, because in the words of the immortal Beatrice, he was too skinny and he might catch cold in the bright spring weather. He had a feeling if she could’ve smuggled him home in her handbag, he’d be holed up right now in a cozy kitchen mainlining soup made with fresh noodles and no amount of protesting that skeletons kinda couldn’t get fattened up would save him.

“see, babe,” Stretch teased, handing over his crutches once Edge made it down the stairs back to earth. He waited until the bus was out of sight, taking Beatrice with it, before taking off the hat and adding it to his backpack stash. “take the bus a few more times and pretty soon you’ll have as many friends as i do.”

“I’d rather strip naked and run a marathon through a pack of hungry dogs,” Edge told him feelingly.

Yeah, okay, that one made Stretch burst out into unexpected laughter. He was still chuckling as they headed into the doctor’s office. “i swear, babe, no one ever believes me when i tell them you’re hilarious.”

“That wasn’t humor,” Edge said dryly as he crutched along, “that was a promise.”

The appointment itself was the usual doctor bullshit, starting with an endless fifteen-minute wait before the doc even came in the room, long enough for Stretch to inspect every drawer and jar in the room before Edge told him to sit down. Which, yeah, okay, it was his appointment and fidgeting around the room probably wasn’t doing much for any anxiety Edge had.

Not that he looked like he had much and Stretch honestly envied Edge’s ability to seem coolly serene in any given situation. It was less appealing that the skill made it impossible for Stretch to know if he was genuinely relaxed or hiding it from the world, but eh, that much he was used to. He could read his baby like a well-loved book, but damn if the cover wasn’t inscrutable some days.

By the time the doc came in, Stretch was ready to vibrate out of his damn shoes, but he kept his trap shut and let the doctor do his job. Highly trained professionals, he’d told Edge, who knew what they were doing, and Stretch could do healing magic but that was his limit. The fine tuning was up to the guys with the stethoscopes.

So he played on his phone, messed around on twitter, kept one suspicious auditory canal tuned in to make sure that the doc didn’t have any strong opinions on how Edge was healing up. In less time than they’d spent waiting, the cast was removed, cut right through the drawing of Undyne flexing, and the doc was checking the bones out, making positive little sounds as he poked and prodded.

That got his reluctant curiosity going and left him torn between getting a look at what he hadn’t yet seen or waiting a little longer for the scars to fade.

He hadn’t chosen a side by the time Edge decided for him, “It’s fine, love, have a look if you want.”

The doc obligingly stepped back and let him take a peek at what the cast was hiding. Even if the freshly healed breaks weren’t still chalky-rough, he would have been able to pick them out of a line up. He knew every scar on Edge’s bones, knew how they felt beneath his fingers, knew which ones were sensitive and which had little feeling to them at all.

Edge was right, they weren’t bad, all things considered. Tori must’ve poured on the healing because the scars weren’t much more than hairline fractures. A lot of hairline fractures, too many, and Stretch blinked hard, turning away to flump back into his chair. Way too many fucking scars, his leg must’ve been…it must’ve…

He probably wasn’t hiding his upset very well, his poker face wasn’t up to standards these days, because the doctor said, gently, “He’s healing very well. A few more weeks and he should be able to resume his normal routine.”

They both seemed to be waiting for some kind of answer from him, so Stretch slumped back into his chair and muttered, “that’s good.”

He pulled out his lighter, flicking it absently through his fingers, listening to the rhythmic clicking of metal against bone as the doc stepped up again.

Pretty quickly Edge was Velcro-ed into a sort of boot that went up to his knee and sternly told not to stand more than two hours at a time, ice it at night, yadda yadda, it was all on the instruction sheet. He went from crutches to a cane and they’d be sending him one of those knee scooters for when he went back to the Embassy. That was a photo opportunity waiting to happen.

The ride home was a lot less eventful. The only other person on the bus for most of the trip was a Human that Stretch only knew in passing and they were eating a sandwich so aggressively that Stretch was afraid to get too close, lest he get sucked into the chomping vacuum.

Edge didn’t talk and Stretch kept busy on his phone, ignoring the quiet of the bus around them. Stretch usually wore headphones when he rode the bus, he had about fifty different podcasts he listened to and Cabinet of Curiosities just released a new one today. He didn’t feel like listening right now though and if anyone told him an hour ago he’d be missing Beatrice’s chatter, he’d have told them to retune their Ouija board.

The only real transfer was from the bus proper to the New New Home shuttle and they were the only Monsters on it except for the driver.

“hey, angela, you know why you’re the best driver?” Stretch asked cheerfully when they got to the stop. He didn’t wait for her to answer. “it’s ‘cause you’re so good at telling people where to get off!”

Angela rolled her eye, “Sans told me that one last week.”

“of course he would,” Stretch sighed, “sans is never short for time when it comes to a joke.” That one got him a chuckle from Angela and a sigh from Edge as she shooed them out the doors. Before he could take so much as a step towards home, Edge had him by the arm, tugging him over to sit on the nearby bench.

“wha…you okay?” Stretch blurted. The anxiety that was slowly easing ramped it back up to high. As far as he saw, Edge was walking pretty well with his new gear, but maybe— “is it hurting, do you need to rest a minute? i can call the doc, hang on…”

Edge gently stopped him from scrambling for his phone, shaking his head. “I’m fine, love. I’m more concerned about whether you’re okay.”

It would’ve been easy to tell him yep, sure, 100%, doing great. Dig up another 100-watt smile out of his reserves in a lie that Edge wouldn’t believe. Instead, he slumped, leaning against Edge’s side and letting his skull drop on his shoulder. “can’t fool you, huh.”

“I don’t want you to fool me,” Edge told him. He reached up, his gloved fingers gentle against Stretch’s cheek bone, his jaw line. “I want to know when you’re upset. Even if I can’t really help, I at least want to know.”

Stretch sighed heavily. “i’m okay. no, really,” he insisted when Edge made a skeptical sound. “i’m just…i don’t like to see you hurt.”

Edge shifted and there was the light touch of a kiss being pressed to his skull. “If it’s any consolation, I don’t really like being hurt. I’ve been injured in the past, you know that, but this is my first experience at being off my feet for so long and I hate it,” Edge said, frankly. “I don’t like not being able to go through my normal routine, whether it’s my work at the Embassy or simply baking bread, I don’t like being—” he hesitated, then, softer, “vulnerable. I don’t like feeling as if I can’t keep you safe.”

The last was said at a mere whisper, a confession Stretch hadn’t expected, and he sat up, wrapping both arms around Edge and held him tight. They sat like that for a while, arms around each other with spring sunshine pouring down over them and Stretch loved him, so, so damn much.

He could hear someone walking up the street, probably heading to wait for the shuttle, and Stretch reluctantly drew back, pausing to press a light kiss against Edge’s cheek bone. “welp, you’re a couple steps further along in getting back on your feet, anyway. what’re you gonna do first?”

He was kinda expecting a shower. Edge never complained but it was hard not to notice that he didn’t enjoy wrapping up in plastic like last night’s leftovers. But Edge was packed with the unexpected today so Stretch was a little surprised when he said, “I’d like to work on my garden. Spring planting isn’t for a little while yet, but my perennials will be coming up and I need to clean out the winter detritus.”

Yeah, okay, that sort of made sense. May as well get as dirty as possible before hitting the suds. They made their way back to the house, a little slower than Stretch’s preferred pace but not by much. Stretch went in the house and aside from Edge taking him on a quick field trip outside for an informational lecture on the different flowers that were already starting to spring out of the ground, he left his honey to get to the gardening. And if he was keeping an eye on the clock to make sure Edge didn’t go over the two-hour mark, eh, Edge said from the start he was going to follow the doctor’s orders. Stretch was only helping him keep a promise.

It was closing in on an hour-fifty when the unexpected knock came from the front door. That had Stretch curious; Edge was in the front yard, any visitors would be bypassing him, so who would be coming specifically to see Stretch?

Welp. There was only one way to find out.

Read Chapter Two

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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garnet-xx-rose · 5 years

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Secret Santa

HO-HO-HO! @supericebeam I’m your secret Santa! So sorry for the delay, but I’m very happy with how it turned out. I was even able to hit all you’re prompts. Enjoy! Also thank you to @niuniente for hosting

"This is stupid." Catra proclaimed

It was the holidays, the few days each year when the Princess Alliance would not be active. Too many different holidays celebrated by the kingdoms individually. A perfect time to make an attack.

But instead, the Horde’s second in command found herself in the corner of Hordak’s throne room with a cup of gin in her hand and wearing what she considered the fugliest sweater she’s ever seen. Instead of conquering Etheria at its most vulnerable, the Horde was partaking in its first annual holiday party. This year’s theme: ugly sweaters.

“Oh come on Wildcat, don’t be so down,” Scorpia exclaimed as she walked over, a plate of finger foods being held by a pincer. Her sweater had holes suited for her spikes but unable to fit her muscular upper frame, making the piece look instead like a crop top.

“Isn’t this great! We’re all here together, celebrating. Not just the holidays, but a great year. All the progress the Horde’s made.” Scorpia said excitedly while munching on her food. She gulped and looked down at Catra, blushing.

“Everything we’ve accomplished. Together.”

Catra scoffed. “Yeah, well we would be able to accomplish more if we weren’t just sitting around doing nothing. The princesses are busy with their dumb traditions, it’s an easy target!”

“Well hold on now Catra you know the rules, the Horde never invades during this time, some type of deal made during the first rebellion.” The scorpion princess stuffed a few more pigs in a blanket into her mouth, “Besides, now’s a great time to relax, take a load off. We’ve earned it!”

Catra was not made aware of that (damn, she really should’ve gone to orientation) but she didn’t really care. And now, she was getting annoyed by Scorpia’s chewing and patronizing.

“Whatever,” Catra called out before walking away to another empty space. Scorpia frowned as her friend wandered off, unsure if she should follow her, but decided against in fear of making her more agitated, “Let’s see what else is on the menu”

Catra found a spot against the wall facing the center of the party, a perfect place to people watch.

Out on the floor were soldiers, force captains, and generals dressed in different colored sweaters, with the Horde symbol crudely stitched in the middle. They were conversing like regular townsfolk, making jokes, having heated debates, some even dancing. She could see Kyle refereeing an eating contest between Lonnie and Rogelio by the food table and on the other side Grizzlor and Octavia grooving on the dance floor, with the octo-woman taking control every now and then. But what was most bizarre of all was Lord Hordak himself, sitting high on his throne, dressed in a green sweater, sharing a plate of tiny sandwiches between himself and his little alien baby. And on his right sat the princess prisoner now turned chief scientist, Entrapta, chugging a fizzy drink with the help of a tendril while she wrote in her journal and spoke into her recorder as she oversaw the party below.

Just like the rest of the guests, she was dressed in a sweater, but her’s was yellow with an image of Emily placed in the center. What was more noticeable to Catra was her hair put up into a mid-high ponytail, instead of pigtails, with a large ribbon bow wrapped into her hair on top. Catra had to admit the get-up did a number on her, but it was clear that Hordak was the most entranced victim to Entrapta. Every few moments Hordak would look over at his lab partner as if to reassure himself that she was there. And whenever Entrapta spoke to him or wanted to share her notes, he looked at her like she was the only thing in the world. He was leaning into her, mesmerized, and when Catra squinted she was sure she saw his hand on her thigh. Man, she wanted to be sick.

Catra groaned. This stupid party had to be Entrapta’s idea-though odd given her lack of interaction during social events like Princess Prom-just like all the other changes made to the Horde in recent memory. It was ludicrous. In a matter of months, the strange Princess of Dryll had gone from her chained prisoner to Hordak’s most trusted member, something that not even long-time force captains could achieve.

Entrapta had Hordak wrapped around her finger or hair for that matter. It made Catra confused, betrayed, angry. But, the more she thought about it, a vulnerable Hordak could be used to her advantage.

In the meantime, there was free food and booze just out in the open and it’s not like Catra wasn’t going to indulge herself. She made her way over to the food table, where now Scorpia had joined the eating contest.

“Hey!” Catra shouted, grabbing the attention of the young soldiers. Kyle looked nervous as usual while Lonnie was intrigued, waiting for the cat girl to explain her sudden interruption.

Catra sighed, maybe just for one day she didn’t have to play the Big bad.

“Room for one more?”

Kyle, Lonnie, and Rogelio looked at each other in disbelief that Catra could be so respectful, but that disbelief was forgotten in moments as Scorpia rushed in and scooped Catra in a bone-crushing hug.

“Oh, that’s my Wildcat, wanting to celebrate with her best friends!”

The woman put her down and starting making bowls for a new round. “Now let’s really get this party started!”

“Whatever,” Catra mumbled, stuffing a handful of pigs in a blanket in her mouth.

————————-

The day of festivities was now at its final moments. The party had ended an hour ago and now the clean-up crew was making its final touches. On top of the staircase, party host Entrapta was dancing around the throne, gigging and squealing as her hair frizzled out in excitement.

“This is without question one of my most successful experiments to date!”

Hordak, still seated, watched his partner jump around the room, a small smile exposed on his face. Entrapta hopped over and plopped herself on top of Hordak, her chest squished against his and her legs over tucked over his thighs. Hordak wheezed from the sudden impact.

“According to my data, my hypothesis was correct: By hosting a social gathering with more palatable food than ration bars and activities for the Horde to partake in, morale and teamwork have increased, 32 percent might I add. And because the guests were already familiar with one another, social awkwardness was down 70 percent!”

“Yes.” Hordak hissed, “Impressive indeed.”

He looked out to the center of the room, where only hours ago hundreds of Horde soldiers were partying and laughing. It was as if they forgot they were in the midst of decades-old war. A small part of Hordak felt envious. Seeing his captains and generals converse and laugh like old friends made him realize how little he knew about his people. It was as if the Horde had created a culture of its own, unbeknownst to Hordak, behind his back that only now was being unveiled because of such a light-hearted event. Even Catra, as anti-social as the girl was, seemed to have a good time with Force Captain Scorpia and the trio of horde soldiers Hordak always saw together.

A gloved hand placed on his own snapped him out of his thoughts. He faced Entrapta who looked into him with the doest eyes and softest smile he’s ever seen on her face.

“I-uhh wanted to thank you for letting me conduct my experiment. I know it was a lot, convincing everyone to join and getting everything organized. It was also very nice of you to host in the throne room”

Now that she thought about, was that the first Horde party?

“I know that I can be a lot sometimes but know that I appreciate your consistent support in my endeavors, no matter how seemingly ridiculous.” Entrapta chuckled at the end of her statement, trying not to sound too sappy. Hordak’s biology betrayed him as his cheeks blushed a hard crimson. He began to stammer.

‘Well,” Hordak cleared his throat, “It has become clear that your work has exponentially improved not only the Horde’s infrastructure but my personal projections as well. I...thank you for your continuing assistance...and letting me work with a brilliant mind such as yourself.”

Now it was Entrapta’s turn to blush. With no mask to cover her face, she looked down but gave a small sigh, reassuring Hordak that she heard his flattering remark. Hordak looked back out, not wanting to make Entrapta feel any more discomfort. But only seconds later, he was staring at her again as she softly pressed herself against his chest and placed her head in the crook of his neck. Instead of freaking out and pushing her away-something that he would have done only weeks ago- Hordak rolled with it, intertwining his hand into Entrapta’s and placing his other on her backside, slowly petting her ponytail.

These acts of intimacy were still new to them, only starting at the beginning of the month, but both have quickly come accustomed to the familiar sense of tenderness. The couple stayed embraced on the throne, quiet except for the occasional hum from Entrapta or grunt from Hordak. Time stood still as each took in the other’s presence fully. When Entrapta nuzzled herself into his neck, Hordak lost his control and gave himself to her, flaws and all. It was moments like this that Hordak could describe as nearly perfect, when everything- his defect, the war, Prime- washes away from his mind, letting his body be at peace. The calmness of it all was so intense. Hordak soon felt himself dozing off, happily wrapped in the arms of his partner.

“Wait!” Entrapta shouted, bouncing off of Hordak’s chest. Hordak’s eyes shot open at the sudden commotion.

“I forgot about the gift exchange.” A tendril slithered behind the throne and came back around, dropping a mid-size box into Entrapta’s hands, amateurishly wrapped in blue paper. The princess than gave it to Hordak, “I would’ve given it earlier, but I didn’t want to make a scene during the party. I know how you still are with privacy.”

During the party, a secret gift exchange was held amongst the guests, but the hosts decided it would be best that they got gifts for each other.

Hordak ran a talon across the paper, cutting it open with the edge of his nail. Neatly unwrapping the package, Hordak was left with a pink box that read in pretty cursive, “Salineas Serums”. Intrigued, the man lifted up the top of the box and moved it to the side. When he looked back into the box contents, Lord Hordak released a small gasp. Inside were two bottles of hair dye with color that matched Hordak’s hair, black eye shadow pallets, and a few other cosmetic accessories.

“You once briefly mentioned that you were running low on dye while we working on the portal” Entrapta spoke, twiddling her finger around her ponytail, “I thought that along with some other supplies would be a sufficient present.”

Hordak picked up the bottle and turned it in his hand, amazed at how well it matched his own. He never told Entrapta his shade, nor brand for that matter. “Oh!” Entrapta squeaked “It’s also the newest edition, so it lasts much longer and doesn’t run off as often. It’s not even set for release until next summer! And before you ask, I have a few connections with the company. They owe me a few favors after I solved their Jellyfish problem. I hope you like it!”

Hordak stared at the bottle in disbelief. One off-handed remark about his personal care led her to this? So much time and attention put into her present. He hoped his gift to her could create at least half of the joy hers brought him. Hordak put the bottle back in the box and took a nearby pink tendril into his hand, the other grasping his partner’s. “Entrapta, this is perfect. I could not have asked for anything better.” He finished his confession by kissing the held strand of hair.

Entrapta giggled, happy at another success. Hordak was so entranced he almost forgot to present his own. He called out to Imp who was plopped on top of Emily, falling out after eating too many cookies. The infant-sized creature rubbed his eyes and sluggishly flew around the throne and came around to Entrapta, dropping another mid-size box into her lap before yawning and flying back over to Emily.

Entrapta didn’t even take the time to appreciate the delicate wrapping, going straight in and ripping apart the paper. She was left with a brown box with a note on top that read, “A sneak peek of what’s to come,” signed “-H”. The princess took off the note, placed it to her side, and then opened the box. Inside was a stack of brown journals, she took out one and began to flip the pages. Entrapta gasped, louder than Hordak’s, almost loud enough to be a scream.

The pages were decorated in detailed drawings of planets, stars, and galaxies. Each page had not only had drawings but writings on the topic’s features and history. It would take Entrpata months, maybe even years to thoroughly get in-depth with these journals.

Life outside of Despondos, a mystery to Etherians for centuries. The answers were right here.

Entrapta had the universe in her hands.

“With all the progress we’ve made with the portal, I felt a little nostalgic and did some snooping around my old ship.” Entrapta looked up at Hordak, who spoke with a grin. “I found these and…I couldn’t think of a more brilliant, beautiful person to give them to.”

Entrapta could feel the rims of her eye getting wet. Before she could stop her self, her cheeks became wet too. The princess threw her arms around her partner’s, stuffing her face into his neck once more and mumbling incoherent words. Hordak continued to smile, pleased with Entrapta’s reaction, but wished to hear her words.

“Care to repeat that?” the clone joked, rubbing his partner’s back.

Entrapta lifted herself and faced Hordak, her face still damp with small tears still streaming down her cheeks.

“Oh, Hordak!” She cried, sniffling and then wiping her face with the sleeve of her sweater, “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten! I really don’t know what to say. It’s...it’s..”

“Out of this world?”

Entrapta’s hair frizzled in excitement. “Exactly!” She grabbed Hordak’s cheeks and snuggled his face into her own.

“You’re amazing.” She stated, nuzzling their noses. Hordak could only respond with a small moan of reassurance.

This day was perfect, nothing could make them feel any better than they did right now.

Well…

Chirping was heard above them. Entrapta and Hordak separated from their headlock and looked up to find Imp, holding up a mistletoe, with the most devilish smirk on his face. Hordak immediately blushed. He was aware of the Etherian tradition, but it was not like he ever had a willing partner. And it was not like Entrapta was going to-

His thoughts were suppressed as soft, plump lips smashed into his own. On cue, Hordak wrapped his arms around her curvy waist as she cupped his cheeks. The kiss grew deeper and once again Hordak and Entrapta became lost into each other, Hordak caressing her back and Entrapta running a hand through his hair. Hordak melted into her arms.

Before things got too heated, Entrapta lifted her lips off of Hordak. He looked at her so dazed and out it. She giggled, happy to see the influence she had on him.

“We should do this every year.” Hordak declared, though a little slurred.

Entrapta smiled, suggestively leaning back down to meet Hordak’s face.

“The party..or the kissing?”

Hordak raised his lips only an inch away from her and smirked.

“Both.”

#entrapdak #she ra #shera #catra #entrapta #hordak #scorpia #spop #fanfic #secret santa

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ikesenlemonadestandstories · 5 years

Text

Enchanted

I present to you Kinesis: Chapter 3, please feel free to look for all previous and future chapters on my Master List and under the “Kinesis” tag :) Love you all!

Warnings: mild gore

[Sasuke]

Enchanted

I had been home working on my calculations for the newest jump into the Arcane. It was a good way to pass the time while I sat waiting for the royal address. With the entire royal family near the stage, the Queen and King approached. Just as the well anticipated moment was to begin, there was an explosion. It only took a moment for the entire square to be engulfed in flames as people caught in the fray attempted to flee. They would surely be the first of many innocents lost in what I assumed would be a prolonged conflict. I could only imagine the depths of their despair as the attack continued. While many, like me, watched on in horror from the supposed safety of our own homes, the screaming outside was growing noticeably more audible. That couldn’t mean anything good.

“I wonder how this will play out,” I murmured to no person in particular, watching in stunned silence as the horrors in the capitol played out there and just beyond my doorway.

After a barrage of attacks, the bloodied Queen released an onslaught of magic. The entire screen was enveloped by the same purple glow I typically associated with the Arcane realm before she collapsed in the center of it all beside her husband. As the scenery quieted I found myself wondering why the camera’s hadn’t been shut off. There was a pit in my stomach as the brilliant purple light, the last bit of magic flowed from Queen Soliel’s fingertips, slowly dissipating to nothing. That didn’t matter to me, carefully I followed the visible path of magical energy, burning where it landed into my memory.

-----

As evident from the broadcast of the chaos the day of and the news reports following the incident, the monarchy had fallen. So I began the tedious task of packing my bags. If there was ever a time to flee, it was now.

It took only a few days to prepare the incantations and gather my belongings for travel. Just as I turned the light out and drew the circle for my spells, I heard the splintering of wood and a gust of wind. Turning in just enough time to see my door blown in right off the hinges. A young man, maybe a little older than I stumbled into my house broken and bloodied.

“That can’t be good. Do you need assistance?” My question didn’t garner a response, more a glare from his heterochromatic eyes. “Right. Come this way.”

He responded with a grunt and stepped over the threshold into my home, falling unconscious the moment he felt he was safe. I had the carpet he had collapsed on carry him into my bedroom, making sure to put the furniture on high alert. If my hypothesis was correct, this man was of high social standing, meaning it was safe to assume that housing him would be blasphemous, and I would be tried for treason if caught. Solidago City wasn’t the only place that had fallen into chaos after all. A purge had begun here in Delphinium as well, which meant I needed to fix my door.

It didn’t take long for the army to show up at my door, but if that man had done at least one thing right, it was picking my house to try and die in. Though I guess maybe not, since I planned on keeping him alive. The whole home was charmed, though. They would never find him, I was sure of that much.

“What’s with all the violent knocking, can’t a man get any studying in before bed nowadays?” I asked as dryly as I could. Especially since they were able to look right into the house. What with all the holes in the shoddily taped together door that was dangerously hanging off the top hinge.

“We’re looking for the oldest son of Director Uesugi, Kenshin Uesugi. He is wanted for treason.” The overly burly looking man’s speech was broken, and I tried my best not to make a comment about his awkward stance as he read from the scroll.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you, lads. I don’t usually get visitors, and as you can see, there’s no one else here.” I smiled as I stepped to the side, letting them into my now single room cottage.

My smile dropped as they nearly tore the place apart, and I flinched at every callous movement. My poor furniture, they didn’t deserve to be treated like that. I would be sure to let them get their revenge for being such fantastic sports.

After nearly an hour of searching and my table and kitchen chairs tripping each soldier at least once, they seemed to believe that I couldn’t possibly harbor a fugitive in the small living space. I flinched once more as they slammed my battered door, happy to finally be rid of them.

As I exhaled the house expanded with me, my several rooms now being exposed as the chatter of the pots and pans grew just a little too wild.

“I know, I’m sorry.” I paused, letting them complain. “Next time I’ll let you take a crack at them, how does that sound?”

I smiled as they agreed with my proposition, quietly entering the bedroom I stowed my healing run-away in.

“So. You’re Kenshin Uesugi then?” It was more of a statement, but I didn’t want to upset him. If he was who I thought he was, the God of War was not somebody I wanted to bother.

“What do you want? I would offer money or land, but we’ve been robbed of that ourselves.” Kenshin spat as he tried to sit up in bed.

“My name is Sasuke Sarutobi,” I bowed, trying to be polite to the supposed next head of the Uesugi fortune. “You want revenge correct? If so, Allow me to join you on your quest. You see, my kitchenware is quite distressed.”

Kenshin appeared confused for only a moment before resolve flashed in his eyes. “I’m going to get it all back eventually, all you wish for is to join me? That’s it?” he seemed surprised.

“That is all.”

“What’s in it for you? Why should I trust you?” Kenshin glared at me from his place in bed.

“Well I did just hide you from numerous soldiers.” I pointed out, giving the bed post a pat. “Who, if I’m being completely honest, were more than a little rough with my friends. Besides, one could say I’m a bit of a fan of yours.”

“A what?” He looked back at me with a blank face.

“A fan, a follower, a supporter.” I tried explaining.

“No I know what a fan is,” Kenshin rolled his eyes before continuing after a heavy sigh. “Fine, but you will have to keep up.”

All I had to do was keep up? That would be easy, my rug would make sure of it.

#ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikesen sasuke #kinesis #chapter 3

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storiesabouthumanandthings · 5 years

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Milkshake 2

The Final Yard

(Y'all asked for it so here it is. What stupid horror isn't completely without a shittier sequel. Thank you all for your support. It really help me write this sequel with all parts that were nagging me from the first story)

(Small edit, i just realized I said summer and school was going on, doesn't really agree so i changed it to spring to get a better timeline)

The woman across the street noticed the girl throw away what appeared to be a perfectly good blender that she also saw her bring home a few days before. She thought it was weird she was throwing it out but her blender just broke and she needed a new one anyways. This would hopefully last her until payday to buy a new blender.

Through out the week, the woman made plenty of drinks. She crushed ice and made smoothies. She made probably too many frozen margaritas but work was stressful at the lumberyard and that was a good way to relax. She was beginning to think she didn't even need to buy a new blender as this old one was working better than her last fancy expensive model.

Come the end of the week, the spring temperatures were climbing fast and hitting record highs. She needed something cool. Nothing's better than a thick shake on a hot night. She threw together the ingredients, mostly just ice cream to make it extra thick. While the blender mixed, she could hear a motorcycle outside. She peered through her blinds. It was the girl across the road and her new motorcycle friend. She remembered how last week the police came around asking questions about what happened. She said she didn't see much. She did hear screams and looked out her window. It looked like a party to her but there was no music or red plastic cups. The police wrote it down as vandalism but the woman was sceptical. She knew the family for a while. They got along with everyone No one in town would want to harm them. She still believed that it was the daughter. The girl must invited boys over for a party that got out of control and covered it up. That's just what teenagers would do. She remembered the mischief she has as a teenager, simpler times. She went back to her shake, well mixed now. She poured herself into a travel mug, screwed a lid on with a straw.

She plopped down on the couch and began watching The Bachelorette. She loved this show, 12 handsome men fighting over her, that's the life. She was booing at the tv when the bachelorette was sending what she considered one of the better men home when a banging from the front door came. "I didn't order any pizzas, go away." The banging continued, "or girl scout cookies!" The knocking still continued, "this better be important!" She yelled as she put on a robe. She was just in boxer shorts and a loose tshirt. She liked her robe, it was long and flowy, made her fell like she was a wife of rich husband. It was bright pink and most was sheer with a puffy trim. She gave a fun spin before opening the door.

It was the neighbor from the block over. If she woke up early enough, she got to watch him run by in hit tight, tight clothes, glistening in sweat. She giggled and fanned herself, "if i knew it was you, i would have came much faster." His head seemed to bobble on his shoulders as he grunted. She stood there confused, normally hearing him speak, he was very articulate. They never really have talked before other than quick passing. "Do you need a cup of sugar, sugar?" She smiled. Again, no answer, "are you drunk?" She was becoming frightened. He was just standing there. Not even looking at her, just standing. She heard a thud and looked over her shoulder and saw more gentlemen from the neighborhood. Some had their wives or girlfriends after them, yelling to them but they didn't answer.

By this time there was enough of a commotion that the girls looked from behind the tarps that covered the girl's broken windows. The insurance was dragging their feet as always. They saw what was going on and immediately leaped into action.

The delivery girl came out of the house screaming, holding a baseball bat. The girl followed quietly behind with a tennis racket, squeezing threw the hole the delivery girl made by shoving men to the ground. The delivery girl shoved the gentleman at the door out of the way, pointing her bat at any who came near. "Atleast they have self preservation" she yelled as the girl ducked under the bat. "Ok, now where is?" The girl asked. The woman was confused, "where's what? What's going on?" The girl pointing the racket accusingly, "the stupid blender! Some crazy woman sold to me, put some curse on it and now when milkshakes are made, all the boys flock to it like zombies! And you must have taken it from my trash! Now where is it?!" The woman pointed towards the kitchen. Banging at the door began as the sounds of bang in the kitchen began. Eventually both noises stopped.

The girl came out of the kitchen with a broken racket on her shoulder, hair in her face, "i think that worked." The was when the gentleman leap threw and broke the window. "NOPE!" said the delivery girl. "Where's your car?" "In the garage!" They all ran to the garage. The delivery girl jumped in the driver seat. "Hey, that's my car." "I know. Hurry up and get in and I'll drive us to safety." The woman began to argue when the door broke open. They all jumped into car, locking the doors. The men slowly walked in as the garage door began to open. As soon as the door open, the delivery girl floored the car in reverse. The gentleman was holding tight to the hood. As the delivery girl turned sharply onto the road, he rolled off. He slowly got up and again began following the car. The delivery girl sped away.

After a moment the woman yelled, "will some please explain what the fuck is going on?" The girl spoke first, "i did. You made a milkshake in a haunted blender and now they are all coming for you. We tried throwing it away but then you stole it. So our next option was to just destroy it and that didn't work."

The woman rolled her eyes and turn to the delivery girl, "and i thought you'd be the pothead." The delivery girl slammed on the breaks, "hey! we just saved your ass there! Now if you want, we can drive back and return." The woman shook her head and the delivery girl continued driving.

They arrived at the delivery girl's work again, Barnyard Pizzas. She instructed the woman to stay in the car. The girls got out and went in. The girl was confused, "what are we doing here? This is where we go attacked last time!" "Yeah, i know," the delivery girl replied shrugging, "but I'm hungry and I want to see what happens now we know something is up." The girls place their order and waited. The staff that night was another girl. No reaction from her it seemed. By the time their pizza was ready, the parking lot was filling of men. "This is weird," commented the delivery girl. "Yeah, like a horror movie of Zombies." The delivery girl shock her head, "not that. But remember when you got chased, it was mostly the neighborhood boys?" The girl nodded. "Well if you look, its mostly older men." Sure enough, looking at the crowd, it was mostly men around the womans age. "But why?" The delivery girl shrugged, "pheromones? Age compatibility? Who knows? You said a crazy witch made this curse." The girls quickly paid for their pizza and ran out before they were blocked by the men.

"Were to now?!" Griped the woman. The delivery girl looked at the girl in the rear window, "any ideas?" "My idea was to destroy the stupid blender." "Is there a place where we can hide?" The girl thought and put her hands in her pockets. She heard a jingling and pulled out her keys, "well i have the keys to my mom's office? Will that work?" "Just point the way." They shortly got to the office and locked the door.

"Now what!? We just hide here for the night?" The woman was working on the delivery girl's last nerve. She staged whispered to the girl, "can we just leave this old hag and let her fend for herself?" The girl chuckled and shook her head, "we have to break this curse."

The 3 sat there trying to think of an answer when the car alarm went off. The delivery girl was the only one brave enough to look. "Now this is weird." "What is it?" The woman cried scared. The delivery girl continued, "the men are back but they seem different...." "different how?" Asked the girl. "Well they aren't organized. Like they know she's here but something isn't right?" The girl looked out and saw that the men were disoriented. Before they always were all facing the same way, very pointed. Now they all are just wondering, bumping into things, "they seem lost." The delivery girl nodded, "yeah, like in her yard, they all charged at her. Same with you and her at Barnyard Pizza and you in the school yard..." the girl looked away and was quiet. She then screamed, "that's it, you're a genius!" grabbing the delivery girl's face, giving a big kiss. The delivery girl tried to act cool but her voice cracked as that was actually their first kiss, "yeah, I know but why?" The girl shook her finger to herself thinking out, "that's it, that's the joining factor. But how to test it?" "Test what?" The woman asked scared. The girl's head whipped up at the woman, "that's it. Everyone in the car!"

They all filed out, first the delivery girl holding her bat high. The woman was in the middle, crouched and holding her long robe tight to herself. The girl took her time, relocking the doors as they left. "Hurry up!" snarled the woman. "Why?" The girl replied, "they aren't attacking." That is when the woman and the delivery girl looked around and noticed it was true. The men were there but none were approaching. "What the hell is going on?" The delivery girl asked. The girl confidently walked to the car, "there is missing a piece. Now get in to test my hypothesis."

They all got in and drove to the next location. The woman groaned, "why did you make me come to work on my day off?" The delivery girl nodded, "yeah, why are we at the lumberyard?" The girl smiled, "spoilers." While waiting for whatever was supposed to happen, the delivery girl tried starting up a game, "i spy something with my little eye, something brown" the woman rolled her eyes, "if its wood again, i am going to bet you with a 2x4." "Men!" Blurted out the girl. " nope, not wood or men." It was the girl's turn to roll her eyes, " no, not your game. The men have returned." Behind the car, a horde of men headed towards them. "But why?! Why me?!" Cries the woman. The girl shook her head, "i don't know. It seems this curse has 2 parts. First the woman makes a milkshake. Second is the men come to the yard, literally any yard." The delivery girl nodded "ok but we destroyed the milkshake and blender." The girl nodded, "that's what stopped it last time but why not this time." The woman groaned, "i still have a milkshake." The girls screamed together, "you what?!" The woman screamed back defensively "well how was i supposed to know a stupid shake would brainwash all the men." The delivery girl slumped in the chair, "now what?" The girl shook her head, "i have an idea but your not going to like it."

Shortly they were back on their streets. it was packed with men. "I can't drive through that with running someone over." The girl nodded, "this is the epicenter. We are going have to get out." "Are you insane?!" Screamed the woman. The delivery girl nodded, "i hate to say this but I'm with her. There's hundreds of men, 3 of us, and we have to get to center of the block." The girl holding up her dented, destroyed racket, "well, time to go crazy." The girl exited the car. When the door slammed shut all the men turned towards the car. The girl gulped. She then screamed, "For Narnia!" She began running into the crowd, knocking men to the ground, hitting their knees with the racket. The delivery girl got out of the car and gripped the bat tight, "Leroy Jenkins!" And ran after the girl. The woman got out of the car, "dont leave me! I just want to go to bed!" And ran after the girls. She quickly caught up to the girls as the crowd was thick with bodies. The girls arranged for the woman to bed in the middle as they swung their weapons wildly. Occasionally a man would get close and the girls would bat them back.

They re-entered the house threw the garage, "now where's the damn shake at?!" Screamed the delivery girl. All were sweating by this point, panting. "I think it's by the couch, in a travel mug." They fight a few more men on there way there, leaving a trail of bodies grasping their knees. The reach the living room. "Not him." Whines the woman. It was the gentleman. "What is up with this psycho?" Complained the delivery girl. The girl slowly turn to the woman mumbling to herself the witch's words, 'the boy to the yard.' She exclaims out loud "she's in love with him, he's the ultimate boy, like the boss!" "I don't love him," scoffs the woman. Both girls look at the woman accusingly. "Fine. I may have a bit of a crush on him." The girl rolled her eyes and shoved the woman to the gentleman. They fell to the floor, the woman falling on top of him. Running, the girl grabs the milkshake cup off the table in front of the couch, "batter's up!" The delivery girl caused the cup to shatter, creating a liquid spray across the livingroom. A stream of cussing came from the kitchen from the men holding their knees. The gentleman blinked, "what's going on?" He looked at the woman. "Are you ok?" The woman simply nodded, "i, uh, fell." "Where from, heaven?" The girl rolled her eyes and grabbed the delivery girl's hand as she made childish gagging noises.

Sure enough, just like last time, the crowd of men slowly dispersed from the area, confused on how they got there. The girl's walked back to the girl's house. "That was a work out. I'm starving! Can we go get dinners?" The girl asked. The delivery girl laughed, "we had pizza!" The girl grumbled, "but that annoying woman ate most of it." "How bout we go for a ride on my motorcycle and we can go get some burgers and shakes." The girl stopped, "I don't think I can look at another milkshake for as long as i live." The delivery girl laughed, "well i just want to taste your lips again." The girl blushed deeply, forgetting that she did that. She cleared her throat before beginning towards the bike, "maybe but first we eat!" "Deal!" Said the delivery girl, giving the girl a peck on the cheek and rushing to her motorcycle cycle. The girl thought to herself, 'damn that sexy bike and leather jacket.'

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#humans are weird #milkshake #my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard #milkshake 2 #the final yard #wlw story #wlw

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snicketstrange · 5 years

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Miss K Enigma 2.0

Now let's talk about Miss K. For me to create my theory that I called Miss K Enigma, I compared excerpts from the book TAA, TPP and Nero's letter to the parents of Carmelita Spats. And The End.

The principle of theory is to create a timeline, involving the characters Bass and Remora.

During the main events described in TAA, Bass and Remora were teachers of Prufrock Prep. Bass had not yet become a bank robber. Bass and remora worked for Nero. In Chapter 6, Lemony informed us what caused the closure of Prufrock Prep.

"Prufrock Preparatoy School is now closed. It has been closed for many yars, ever since Mrs Bass was arrested for bank robbery."

Bass became a thief in the time of events recorded in TSS. She became a thief because she received a letter from JS, asking her to bring valuables to the hotel. Remora still worked for Nero at that time, and Bass also.

TPP chapter 6: "Please, boss," said another familiar voice, and Nero turned around, his greasy braids swinging behind him. Sunny saw, to her dismay, that Nero was sharing Room 371 with two other figures from the Baudelaires' past. "You said we could stop for a lunch break," continued Mr. Remora,

Note that Remora called Nero the boss. This shows that at this time when the events recorded in TPP passed, Prufrock Prep was still working with Remora and Bass teaching.

TPP chapter 6: "I'm so hungry I could eat a dekagram of rice," said Mrs. Bass, who had been Klaus's teacher. It was clear that her enthusiasm for measuring things according to the metric system

had remained the same, but the youngest Baudelaire noticed that her appearance had changed

somewhat. On top of her shaggy, black hair was a small blond wig, like a snowcap on the top

of a mountain peak, and she was wearing a small, narrow mask with two tiny holes for her

eyes. "I've heard there's a wonderful Indian restaurant in Room 954... "Don't you think you should bring your loot, Mrs. Bass?" asked Mr. Remora, pointing to

the far wall of Room 371.

"No, no," Mrs. Bass said quickly, her eyes blinking nervously through the holes in the

mask. "It'll be safer in the room."

Sunny tilted her head so she could stare past the teacher's knees, and made her first

important observation as a flaneur. Piled on a table in the hotel room, right near a window overlooking the sea, was a large, bulky pile of large, bulky bags, each with the words PROPERTY OF MULCTUARY MONEY MANAGEMENT stamped on them in stern black ink. The youngest Baudelaire could not imagine why Mrs. Bass was in possession of

something from the bank where Mr. Poe worked."

.... "How do you know there will be music critics at the party?" Mr. Remora asked. "My invitation just said there'd be an all-you-can-eat banana buffet." "Mine didn't say anything about music critics, either," Mrs. Bass said. "It just says that there's a party in celebration of the metric system, and that I should bring as many valuables as possible so they could be measured. As a teacher, I don't earn enough money to purchase any valuables, so I had to resort to a life of crime."

Now let's look at Nero's letter. This letter reports an event beginning with Miss K, which happened after the main events recorded in TPP.

I'll show you why I believe in it.

Nero Wrote: (The UA, chapter 8): "Because of the article you sent me, I have fire Ms K, the teacher who replaced Mr. Remora after he chocked on a banana and decided to retire."

So Ms K was hired by Nero after Remora retired. When Remora was at the hotel during the events recorded in the TPP book, Remora still worked for Nero. He called Nero the boss, and relied on Nero's permission to have lunch time. Remora was placed in the room dedicated to people related to educational institutions, because Remora was still a teacher.

But by the time Miss K went to Prufrock Prep, Remora had retired.

And what about Bass? By the time Miss K was at Prufrock Prep, Bass was still a teacher. But she missed classes often. Nero explained:

"Things are a bit slow at the school without Ms . As you recall, our gym teacher, Coach Genghis, no longer teaches here, and Mrs Bass always seems to be taking a day off to take care of some business she has at the bank."

Mrs. Bass continued to rob the bank for a while. She missed classes so she could steal the bank from time to time. This also indicates that Ms K was in Prufrock Prep after events recorded at TPP because Mrs. Bass became a thrasher at the time she received the invitation to the event at the hotel. According to Lemony, Prufrock Prep continued running until Bass was arrested. Thus, Bass, Remora, Nero and Carmelita remained alive after the hotel was burned. Was Kit in Prufrock Prep after the destruction of the hotel? Did she abandon her mission, and went to Prufrock Prep between events recorded in TPP until she appeared on the island? No. Kit's words in TE indicate that she was to find Windershins, repair the Queequeg, and try to rescue the Quaquimires. And then she died on the island. The events recorded in Nero's letter evidently occurred after that. If Miss K was using Kit's name, she was pretending to be Kit. Of course, it could be any other volunteer who has K as the initial letter of the name. Or anyone else pretending to be Kit other than Beatrice.

But she was not Kit, because Kit was dead.

The hypothesis of Ms K to be Beatrice comes from the photo found on page 142. In this photo, Lemony wrote the message: "Will ever see her again?" and circled the photo of a woman.

I thought this woman was Miss K. But now, I realized something important. Nero states that this photo was taken after the resignation of Miss K of Prufrock Prep. So this woman is not pretending to be the teacher. She's pretending to be one of the students.

Regarding what many fans think about Kit to be the only K quoted in the books ... That's not true. On page 36 and 37 of the UA, it is quoted that a certain person named K. At the time of the VFD meeting, recorded in chapter 3 of the UA, that K is called neophyte. However, this meeting took place after the cancellation of Lemony's marriage. We know this, because it is recorded in the meeting that G had already begun to publish the column called "Secret Organizations You Shoud Know About." According to the newspapers filed in Chapter 5, this column only came into existence following the resignation of Lemony from the Daily Punctilio. At that time Kit was no longer a neophyte. In fact, Kit is older than Lemony. And Kit had already been supporting VFD since childhood. So the person named K, who is called a neophyte at the meeting, is not Kit. This person could be the one who visited Prufrock Prep many years later, and passed himself a teacher. She could use the initial of her name without problems. In fact, that makes more sense than saying that Beatrice could be Miss K. Now I think Beatrice was disguised as a student at about the same time.

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jackalgirl · 5 years

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Exodus and Ancient Egypt

So, there’s been this kind of big discussion in one of the Tumblr circles I follow about Israel-in-Egypt, which is a pretty big deal in the Bible and Torah (”pretty big deal” is a huge understatement). Problem is, although there are some references so Semitic people (and “Semitic” in this context means more ethic/national groups than Israelites) in some Ancient Egyptian texts, there is nowhere any kind of description of a population of people outnumbering the Egyptians, or descriptions of anything like the events as described in Exodus. In fact, there are a lot of texts describing things (such as the building of the Pyramids) that specifically mention the process (i.e., conscription of local laborers in the off-season, who were then paid, and how much, etc.) that directly debunk the popular notion that a) Israelites were slaves* in Egypt and b) that they built the Pyramids.

* I must also point out that the modern idea of what constitutes slavery and the ancient idea of what constitutes slavery is not the same, and a common error is to try to map our modern Western connotations of slavery on the ancient world.

I’d like to note that DH, who is a Masters candidate in Christian** Ministry, agrees with my very cursory reading of Exodus in my New Oxford Annotated study bible that Exodus makes no claim whatsoever about the Pyramids. It’s been pointed out on Tumblr by someone whom I shall not mention because she is sick, sick, sick to death of this discussion, that this conception that the Pyramids were built by Jewish slaves was a fiction created by post-Egyptian (that is, people who came along after the ability to read Middle and Late Egyptian was lost) writers who were basically just making stuff up.

** Protestant / Baptist, to be specific

What it boils down to is that on the one hand, you have Talmudic and Biblical scholars talking about this massive experience in Egypt, and Egyptologists saying, “there’s scant evidence for all of this on the Egyptian side of things.”

So, in the spirit of people who are basically just making stuff up (about Jewish slaves building the Pyramids), I’m going to talk a bit about my suppositions. I’d like to point out that these are merely suppositions, ones I haven’t researched yet, based on hazy understandings of the history of the time from both Biblical and Egyptological viewpoints. So take it or leave it, and I won’t be offended at all if you completely leave it.

Supposition the First: the major events as described in Exodus did not take place during the New Kingdom

I know that a lot of people really want the Pharaoh of Exodus to be one of the New Kingdom Rameses, but the New Kingdom is pretty well documented. I’d expect there to be more writing, somewhere, about the events -- even given the idea of “it was a major disaster, so Egyptians wouldn’t have written about it”. Someone would have written about it, especially someone who used the events to leverage power for themselves (and there’s always some of these). So I don’t think that it would have involved people on the Egyptian side for whom there is a lot of documentation.

Supposition the Second: Israel settled in the Sinai and Delta region of Egypt during the Old Kingdom

The beginning of Exodus says, after naming the 12 patriarchs of Israel who came into Egypt with their households: “The total number of people born to Jacob was seventy. ” (Exodus 1:5) (1)

The footnote in my study Bible says of verse 5: “Because the number seven and its multiples symbolize totality, the notion of seventy descendants of Jacob signifies that all of Israel is present in Egypt (cf. Gen 46:27; Deut 10.22)” (2)

I’m taking this to understand generations. If one sets a generation at 50 years (completely arbitrarily -- remember, I am making stuff up), then that puts the entry of Israel into Egypt in the Old Kingdom (counting backwards from the start of the Second Intermediate Period). The Sinai was a part of Egypt at this point, so I’m supposing that the major settlements of Israel were in the Delta-to-Sinai areas of Egypt (this ties into the locations of the cities that the later generations were forced to build; see below).

Supposition the Third: the events of Exodus happened during the Fifteenth Dynasty of Egypt

After establishing (or reminding the reader of) the context of how Israel got into Egypt, Exodus gets into the meat of the actual Exodus story, which is that “...a new king arose over Egypt, who did not know Joseph.” (Exodus 1:8) (3)

The basics of this is that the new ruler felt threatened by the number and power of the Israelites, so sought to limit them via oppression (”forced labor”) and other increasing awful proscriptions, all of which leads to the classic Exodus story. This king does not seem to be a person who is the head of a well-established, well-supported, or organized power structure. For example, apparently there are two -- TWO -- midwives for all of these Hebrew women and he can’t even get them to follow his orders to kill male Hebrew newborns.

It’s this kind of thing, in combination with the fact that there’s not a whole lot of documentation on the Egyptian side, which leads me to suspect and suppose that the events of Exodus happened during a time when Egypt was actually fragmented, and that the Pharaoh we’re dealing with is one of the very sparsely-documented ones (we don’t really even know with certainty the names and order of their kings), one who had access to chariots. Hence: the Fifteen Dynasty, which were the Hyskos, in the Second Intermediate Period, who introduced horses and chariots to Egypt, and that all of this took place in the Delta region, probably the part closest to the Sinai, which at this point had been overrun by the Hyskos who swept southward through there. (4)

I’m aware that some information pokes holes in this; for example, Exodus 1:11 names two cities built by this forced labor, “Pithom and Ramses”, both of which are identified by Wikipedia*** as Per-Atum and Pi-Ramsses, located in the region between the Delta and Sinai, the latter of which is described as Rameses II’s newly-built capital, which is where the Exodus-in-New-Kingdom comes from, I think. (5) I suspect that Per-Atum is older, and I’m not sure about the “Ramses” of Exodus yet, and I do acknowledge that I’m trying to find things that fit my story, so reader be aware that that’s what I’m doing.

*** So this is, so far, the extent of my “research”, which is another reason you, dear reader, should be taking this with a huge grain of natron.

Anywho, all of this is born of a need to be a consensus builder and say, “Talmudic/Biblical scholars and Egyptologists, you can both be right!” which is kind of in my nature. But that’s basically how I come to this completely as-of-yet unsupported hypothesis that there’s a grain of historical truth in the Exodus story in spite of a lack of evidence from the Egyptian side: we’re dealing with a period of time in Egypt when political fragmentation led to a) insecure kings and b) fragmentary documentation.

(1) Coogan, Michael D. (Editor), The New Oxford Annotated Bible, An Ecumenical Study Bible - New Revised Standard Version With The Apocrypha, Fully Revised Fifth Edition, Oxford University Press, 2018, book / verses as noted

(2) Ibid

(3) Ibid

(4) See the Wikipedia entries for “Hyskos” and “Fifteenth Dynasty” for more info

(5) See the Wikipedia entries for “Pithom” and “Pi-Ramesses” for more info

#too many words #ancient egypt #exodus #yes my citations are crappy

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wellhellsbelles · 6 years

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Que Será Será

hey, i’m back!!

i’m not sure how easy it will be for me to do other things right now since i’m in my last semester of college, but i had been working on this for a while now and just decided to split it up into two (possibly three? we’ll see) parts, so i wanted to post the first half. the second half will be soon to follow!

thanks for reading!! enjoy :)

ao3 link found here.

They're forces of nature—she's push, he's pull; they're drawn together like magnets. And in a world where soulmates exist, that might just mean something.

PART ONE

Riley Matthews is five years-old when she first hears about soulmates.

They’re the magic that binds the world, that makes living worth it, and she has living proof of it existing—her parents have each other’s names printed clearly across their respective wrists.

The way her father explains it is with a stern look and, “Something that happens when you’re much, much older.”

The way her mother explains it to her is not as dismissive. In fact, the way she tells her how it works makes her want to dwell on it in her dreams, because it feels like a fairytale.

“Two souls are destined to meet, somewhere in the world, somehow. Like magnets they come together, and then their universes collide like it did at the very beginning. Everyone has this kindred soul that is theirs, and when they find it, they can exist in pure bliss, two halves together as a whole once again.”

From that day on, she dreams of who might be her bonded soul, the person she’s supposed to meet in the future that she can trust to be hers for the rest of her life. She pictures a night in shining armor riding in on a white horse, ready to sweep her away just like in the books her mother reads to her at night.

She trusts she’ll find it. After all, her mother told her she would, and although she has many years until it happens, she can wait for that special someone.

Farkle Minkus is seven years-old when he meets Riley Matthews, and he doesn’t know what to think of her.

She seems to accept him for who he is, doesn’t think that his quirks are weird and off-putting. He admires that greatly, and despite the fact that Riley is quite the unique individual herself, he’d rather remain alongside her than spend his recesses reading science books under a tree like he has since he started school.

She smiles at him and it’s warm like the sun, pure and unadulterated happiness. She dances circles around him, makes pinky promises that only exist between the two of them and has him watch clouds with her when they’re particularly fluffy out. And then she tells him of her story she’s made up for the day of how she’s going to meet her soulmate, and Farkle listens attentively but only holds the idea with a grain of salt.

He thinks the whole “soulmate” thing isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.

Of course, he is only seven, so his knowledge is only limited to seven trivial years of personal experience plus the books his dad offers him each day, the ones filled with science and math that absolutely fascinate him.

Farkle knows science, and science can’t account for soulmates. Riley says it’s magic, but Farkle highly doubts that. Science doesn’t account for magic, either, but then he remembers that he knows Riley, and that’s enough proof for him.

For now.

Riley is thirteen years old when she meets Lucas, and he becomes her everything.

When she pictured her soulmate when she was younger, he’s exactly what she imagined—a daring, brave young man with blue eyes that could pierce a hole into her heart with just one look. She falls on his lap on the subway by ‘accident’ (read: Maya), but when she extends her hand out to introduce herself and he shakes it, she feels as if the cosmos fated them to meet, and her skin sparks with an electricity unlike any other.

This is it, she tells herself. This is him.

Riley can’t explain how she knows; she just knows. When she tells Maya this, Maya glances at her, amused, but she doesn’t tell her that she’s wrong. Maya doesn’t trust the system but she trusts Riley, and that’s all that matters. They’re thunder and lightning and they’re always on the same side, no matter what.

Farkle, however, is a little harder to convince.

When he’s not busy spouting science facts, he’s showering her and Maya with affection, but really it’s the only way he knows how to interact with them now. They’re growing up; Riley gets it. He’s always been a little shy, a little unknowing of the world he’s been placed in.

But Riley tells him Lucas is the one, and he laughs.

She’s mad at first. Righteously infuriated, because he’s supposed to be her best friend!

They’ve always clashed when it comes to beliefs, though, and after a few days of radio silence between them, Farkle apologizes, but Riley does, too. She’s known him for what feels like forever, and he’s never been one to change his own beliefs just because of his emotional connection to somebody; he knows what he believes and he sticks to his principles firmly, and Riley can’t fault him for that. That’s an aspect of himself that he’s never hidden, and she wouldn’t want him to.

In fact, she praises him for his ability to stay true to himself.

But he supports her and Lucas, and that’s all she really cares about. Not what he thinks of soulmates, not what he believes, but his unfailing, unwavering loyalty to her no matter what.

That’s all that really matters.

Farkle is fourteen when he starts dating Isadora Smackle. He doesn’t quite understand feelings but he knows that when he looks at her goofy face, his heart soars in a way that he’s never experienced before—but he’s willing to test this experiment out and see where it goes.

Isadora is just like him—she doesn’t buy into the whole ‘soulmate’ thing like most people do. She believes in numbers and science, and that those are the guiding forces of their universe. When she says that, Farkle thinks that, if he were ever to be certain about emotions and how they work, then he’d want to marry her on the spot.

Isadora lights him aflame. There’s this thing in his chest that he feels every single time he looks at her, and words seem to fail him each time he casts his eyes upon her deep, earthy brown irises that seem to hold the answers to the universe in them. He’s never been one to speak in metaphor, but it’s lighting, being with her.

He runs his relationship like an experiment; there’s theory behind everything he does. He knows she doesn’t much appreciate physical affection, so he always asks for permission before he takes the next step in his research. He’ll notice her fingers twitch at her side sometimes, and he creates a hypothesis—what if he took her hand in his? That would certainly stop the twitching.

So he does. He confirms his hypothesis. Isadora is warm, and that confirms another hypothesis of his.

It comforts him that a relationship is also a science because he can deal with science. He couldn’t handle it if he believed that soulmates worked; the probability of Isadora being his would, firstly, be very . . . low. There’s approximately seven billion people in the world. The chance of her being his is a discomforting figure, and he doesn’t believe in it anyway.

There’s a solace in science, so he lets it rule his feelings, and it works out well for him.

That, he can believe in.

Riley is eighteen years old when she graduates high school.

It’s almost unbelievable, how quickly it all passed her by. It was like her childhood has been the blink of an eye, the ripping of a band-aid. It happens so fast you can’t even process it, you don’t even have the chance to experience any emotions about it until after.

She’s learned a lot during her four years of high school. She and Lucas broke up halfway into Sophomore year, and that was the biggest hurdle Riley had to overcome. She spent so long hoping that he was her forever person, that someone meant to belong to her and only her, but the more she thought about it, the less it made sense to her.

Riley found herself not feeling that electricity, the spark having long since fizzled out of existence. It no longer felt like they were fated to be, and allure faded and gave way to reality. She pushed it away for so long, wanted so badly for the truth she had conjured up herself to not be a lie. But her and Lucas weren’t compatible in the way they were when they were thirteen; that was the unwanted yet undeniable infallibility.

The breakup was messy, but long-needed. They remained friends, but her heart would still ache for him sometimes when she’d catch him in a certain light, remembering what it once felt like to have him feel like he was hers forever.

Maya was there for her, though, still is. She made sure to be there in whatever capacity Riley needed, and Riley couldn’t believe she had been so blessed. Even Farkle stuck through it with her, despite their small fallout after his and Smackle’s breakup, and they became closer than ever.

She’s just as blessed to have him, too.

Age had changed him; she still misses his quirky mannerisms and vivid turtlenecks. But this Farkle, her Farkle now, is the version she prefers. She’d prefer him in any which way he presented himself, because he’s him. He’s her Farkle; always will be.

He knows what she needs without her expressing it, and every time she looks at him, her heart would thrum in a manner corresponding only to the sight of Farkle, her dearest friend. Farkle’s always a phone call or a text away, ready to swing through the window of her room and be there in any way she needs him to. He somehow always knows when she’s not herself, even if she doesn’t notice it herself right away.

And that’s why he appears at her side on the balcony at their graduation party, a flute of sparkling white grape juice in hand and a quirk of the mouth present at the sight of her.

“Hiding out?”

A smile rises to her face as she recognizes him, bubbly excitement welling in the pit of her stomach, along with another bit of something, a something she can’t quite comprehend, not yet.

“Thinking,” she answers him, patting the railing of the balcony, beckoning him over beside her. Farkle does so without hesitation, sighing when he’s in place.

“Yeah,” he nods, knowing fully what she means without her having to express it. “I’ve been doing that a lot lately, too.”

His fingers reach up to muss his hair about, and Riley almost reaches out to stop him because she’s been admiring the way it’s been gelled all day. She withdraws at the last second, curling her fingers back into her palm and resting the hand at her side.

“You ready?” he presses after a moment of silence from her. Riley shrugs.

“I’m not sure. I know what I want, don’t get me wrong, but something about it feels . . . off. Maybe it’s because you and Maya are going to completely separate colleges from me,” she adds at the last moment. Farkle raises a brow at her.

“You do know it’s a thirty-minute drive between our colleges?”

Riley wants to tell him that that’s not enough, that she needs him by her side every waking moment of every day. She wants to tell him that she needs him in such a way that it scares her to even consider it, in such a way that she’s tried so hard to push out of her realm of thinking. But she’s got all summer to enjoy being around him, and she knows better than to think that they’ll ever drift apart, because they won’t.

He’s her Farkle; she’s his Riley. That’s how they are, what they are to each other.

“We’ll make it work,” she agrees, tucking a lock of hair behind her own ear. “Because we’re Farkle and Riley. Nothing in the universe could stop us.”

“Not even if it tried,” he says, stealing a swig of the sparkling grape juice.

“It wouldn’t even dare,” Riley finishes, the words a truth escaping her lips, probably the most truthful thing she might ever say.

Because she would never let anything break them apart. He’s her rock, and nothing can shatter that. Not even time.

#riarkle #riley x farkle #farkle x riley #riarkle fanfiction #bella writes #soulmate au

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eclisseacontextforfilm · 6 years

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DELEO ERGO SUM eclisse inspirations, vol. II Emilio Isgrò, La cancellatura e altri particolari (1993) [from Alberto Fiz interview with Emilio Isgrò, 2013] In 1964 the Erasure (”cancellatura”, artistic movement -EDIT) was born. What were the reasons that led you to such an evasive gesture? The idea that art was not an object to hang on the wall or to present on a basis, but rather a social tool for discussion and growth. For me it was equivalent, then as today, to a formative process that allowed the circulation of new ideas. At the beginning of the Sixties I was a journalist at the 'Gazzettino' ( 60s italian newspaper -EDIT) in Venice, where I was involved in culture news and themes. Once, correcting an article, I suddenly realized that erasing had more power than words. It was a revelation for me, and from that moment on I undertook a radical operation, destined to upset the rules of the system, so much so that it coined extremist slogans, like 'The word is dead', which caused quite a stir. It was evidently an exaggeration, but it described well my mood and the desire to react to the fullness of words that Western culture had done. In the world of art, then, the correspondent of the word was the image of consumption, which with Pop Art had taken over, becoming too cumbersome. So curious that a resolute criticism of the word came from those who, like you, attended the literary avant-gardes and had formed with the poem by publishing a collection appreciated by Schwarz (italian editor -EDIT) as Fiere del Sud. My position, on closer inspection, allowed the word to strengthen itself and to recover an energy that was fading away. 'The word is dead' was the point from which we had to start again. My activity as a poet, therefore, was not at all in contradiction with that of the canceller. I would say that the first was the premise of the second. From the niche literature I passed to an action that interferes with the whole communication system. Anyway, poets did not think so... In fact, the erasing profoundly shook the literary world, and not everyone took it well. Eugenio Montale, who appreciated my work as a poet, refused it without hesitation. With him we created a friendly relationship, and often came to the editors of the 'Gazzettino', from where we started to take long walks through the streets of Venice. When I showed him the deletion, he was very upset, and we have not been there since. More available Pier Paolo Pasolini, who for another had favorably reviewed Fiere del Sud, but perhaps he had not fully understood the deletions, even though they were somewhat suggestive. He told our common friend Elsa De Giorgi that he did not approve of them, but that “Isgrò could afford them”. Those who did not have doubts, however, was my friend Andrea Zanzotto. [...] On balance, however, I could say that the art environment had implemented the erasure better than the publishing world [...] After all, you have always been a loner and of Erasure you were not only the creator and the theorist, but the president and the sole administrator of Cancellatura s.p.a., (a center of creative thought that could not make other proselytes -EDIT) The erasure is an individual and in some ways solitary path whose results lead to an irreparable split, also from a theoretical point of view, with respect to the avant-gardes. It is an absolute gesture, with no return, far from Dadaist nihilism. In the words of Joseph Schumpeter [Austrian economist of the beginning of the century, -EDIT], I could say Erasure is a form of creative destruction.

Can you make this clear? The gesture is absolute, but the action has nothing dogmatic. On the contrary, it is a dialectical and relational one. Erasure is the brick used for the construction, or better still, the zero in mathematics, called to form all the numbers and all the values. Compared to a hierarchical and vertical system like the one imposed by the avant-gardes, Erasure represents a highly innovative linguistic hypothesis. It is not a gesture like the others, but it is the questioning of one's gesture on the basis of an operation where the artist himself erases his hypertrophic IO. The avant-gardes needed to find an enemy to fight, an aesthetic or political movement to oppose. I do not have the problem of killing the father, and Erasure develops as a cathartic action that does not seek clash with social principles, but undermines its foundations, freeing the viewer from a passive position of pure contemplation. But from Malevich to Twombly, from Schwitters to Rotella, delation, albeit “in nuce”, is a well-known theme in the art of the 20th century. Why did you choose to make it the central aspect of your research? Even the apples that fall from the trees were well known in Newton's time. Only that only Newton noticed it. I, unfortunately for me, are certainly not Newton, and this hurts my self-esteem. On the other hand, such frustration did not stop me from immediately understanding that the deletion is a kind of black hole around which the universe of words gravitates and human communication in general. And as for the artists that you quote, yes, it is true, they also deleted them, but they did not even notice it ... because they canceled functionally, in a state of necessity, perhaps to correct their errors in drawing or perspective, without even realizing of the creative potential they had in their hands. El Greco also erased the sky, filling it with angels, cherubs and focomelic cherubs. Not to mention Mondrian, who would have arrived at absolute abstraction by erasing the leaves of a tree. In my case, however, this hypothesis is reversed, and the true subject is precisely the negation as an indispensable premise of the affirmation. What seemed impossible, becomes possible, with all its charge of ambiguity. I can reiterate what I said twenty years ago: 'the hand that cancels is the only one that can write the true and the false together' ".

Do not you risk, therefore, of moving from the nihilism of the avant-gardes to the indifference of Erasure? This eventuality does not occur because Erasure sometimes pretends to be neutral, but sometimes takes position, as it interrupts the flow of communication, changing its orientation in an unpredictable way. It avoids any form of taboo or symbology, placing itself at the right distance both from the past and from the present, without any preclusion. Perhaps this is why it was particularly appreciated by the postmodern [...] Why did you decide to delete the word and not the image? It probably influenced my poet's past. In an age with a high ideological rate, then, intervening on the word was a much more corrosive action. In the past, the most extreme gesture had been made by Mallarmé, proposing the blank page as the last, supreme possibility of poetry [...] So, in 1964 you began to delete the newspaper articles, then move on to the works of thought, so much so that in 1970 launched an attack on a monument of culture and on the occasion of an important exhibition by Schwarz present the Encyclopedia Treccani canceled. That was an act that created much controversy, as it struck one of the pillars of Italian identity. It was certainly not a gesture against culture, but an opportunity to rethink it in renewed terms [...] Does not the erasing run the risk of remaining a stuck gesture, unable to renew itself? Absolutely not. Unlike other signs related to the neo-avant-gardes, Erasure is never aseptic or static, but is relational. It has the ability to absorb the context by continually changing itself. If you cancel the devil, it is diabolical, if you cancel God is divine. In this way I could get to the Mona Lisa or to the Last Judgment. In other words, a delirium of omnipotence! A methodology that allows me to act taking charge of the subject, and this radically changes the perception of the sign, avoiding any form of rhetoric. What is the difference between erasing the Treccani Encyclopedia or the Constitution, two acts carried out forty years later, the first in 1970, the second in 2010? First I canceled a monument of culture; then a social pact of a people in danger. Erasure, therefore, always arises as a solution to a problem. When I delete the traces remain, but no longer the premises from which I left, or the problem. The erasure is not simply a denial, but has the capacity to revitalize the context and, as the poet-psychoanalyst Basilio Reale wrote with long-sightedness many years ago, it is 'a supportive therapy' to the word. How to say a homeopathic cure, a cardiac massage in front of the television chatter, the bulimia of a stereotyped language, slogans to be scrapped, and tormentoni like 'aiming at growth' or 'Europe asks us'.

But did not you say that the word is dead? In fact, it is dead and must be resurrected through Erasure. “Nous voulons effacer, nous voulons rêver”. “We want to cancel, we want to dream”. These are the only words that I saved from the cancellation of the Manifesto of Futurism I made in 2012 for the Mart in Rovereto.

other works (selection): non-fiction La cancellatura e altre soluzioni, Skira, 2007 theater L'Orestea di Gibellina e gli altri testi per il teatro, Le Lettere, 2011 poetry Fiere del Sud, Schwarz, Milano, 1956 L'anteguerra, Einaudi, Torino, 1963 Brindisi all'amico infame, Nino Aragno Editore, Torino, 2003 fiction L'avventurosa vita di Emilio Isgrò, Il Formichiere, Milano, 1974 [Interview taken from the volume: Emilio Isgrò, Come difendersi dall’arte e dalla pioggia, Maretti Editore, 2013, pgs. 266, € 22.00]

#eclisse filmmaking filmproduction photography arthaus nouvelle vague italy milano tumblr artists on tumblr

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moondeerdotblog · 3 years

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Walking Through On Political Ideologies

It was brought to my attention as I was sharing a threadified version (must have been the week I thought folks might be more likely to read a thread on Twitter than a linked post. I was wrong. Folks just aren’t interested in reading. So, technically, I am talking to myself right now) of On Political Ideologies that the way I express my thoughts often obscures the point I intend to make. To remedy this I created a thread walking through the obscurities of the aforementioned thread. I figured I may as well do the same for the post from which that thread had been transcribed (So … for the record … I wrote a post which became a thread which warranted the creation of an entirely new thread to explain what the first original thread that used to be a post ought to have just said plainly from the start which is now becoming a new post).

Let’s walk through On Political Ideologies to make sure everything in my head makes its way out. Might be overkill (but more likely everything I touch could use one of these).

So the post starts off with some digital art I created. The information depicted becomes the focal point of the entire post so let’s have another look at it before we start.

The introductory text is aimed at setting up the delivery of this mysterious information depicted I just referenced while, at the same time, addressing some of the societal abrasion and inner turmoil some may encounter that may be lessened to a degree upon its reception (the walkthrough is shaping up to require its own walkthrough … I see it too. It will clear up startinnnnnggg now).

So let’s have a look and do a bit of italicized rephrasing with the emphasis on clarity.

As the January 6th committee begins holding hearings, it feels worth pointing out once more just where Representatives Liz Cheney and Adam Kinzinger fit into the ideologies of today.

Twittersphere, has this ever happened to you?

You find yourself grateful for something Adam or Liz has said.

Being liberal can make supporting Liz and/or Adam feel weird. This is because of their conservative record voting against the liberal agenda you’d like to see succeed.

You admit as much on Twitter … and inevitably some a$$hat takes this opportunity to berate you.

They’re all, “these people are not your friends. They did ‘X’, ‘Y’, and ‘Z’. Blah-dee-f$&king-blah.”

People on Twitter can be a$$holes. They often are not shy about telling you that any support given to a conservative is wrong and you are a bad liberal for providing it.

Well … here is what these useless blowhards fail to comprehend (and what resolves that inner conflict I’m sure you felt) … one mustn’t be a friend to be an ally.

Things used to be black and white … but these are unprecedented times. The a$$hole is not adjusting their derivative blather for our current environment. Battle lines must be redrawn in a broader scope. Take two people that disagree on damn near everything. Toss in something they happen to agree on. Make it the most consequential g0dd@mn something one could conjure. Then gather a group of people that disagree with the first two people about this consequential thing. The two that started out on opposite sides now have all their disagreements superseded by a common consequential cause. You know the cliche … I needn’t include it here.

Liz and Adam are to the right ideologically. Adam’s 2020 record scored a 0.66 while Liz’s scored a 0.68. Were we to respect our political norms and precedents such scores would easily land Liz and Adam on our list of enemies … and whichever a$$hat trying to sh$t all over your gratitude would have at least one leg to stand on.

Traditionally, we have scored how politically left or right a legislator leans on a linear ideological line by scoring their congressional voting record.

Searching for such scores online led me to govtrack.us and the 2020 Report Cards found here (scroll down to Ideology Score). The site describes its ideology scores as follows:

Our unique ideology analysis assigns a score to Members of Congress according to their legislative behavior by whether they sponsor and cosponsor overlapping sets of bills and resolutions with other Members of Congress. The score can be interpreted as a left—right scale measuring the dominant ideological difference or differences among Members of Congress, although of course it only takes into account a small aspect of reality.

On this left—right scale ranging from 0.0 through 1.0, Adam received a score of 0.66 while Liz received a score of 0.68. Contrast this with someone like Pramila Jayapal, who received a score of 0.07. If this were all there was to the story, that a$$hole berating you would have a fairly solid position backing his douchery.

Side note: a score of 0.68 would stick Senator Krysten Sinema on that very same list. Bet that m0therf$&ker didn’t know that sh$t.

This one’s just a dig at Sinema being as “politically right” as Liz Cheney (based on ideology scores alone, which are identical).

The trickiest bit to comprehend is likely the bits about bifurcation. Let’s revisit and italicly tackle what I mean by the bifurcated information ecosystem.

Okay … back to friendship ≢ allyship.

The symbol ≢ denotes not identical to.

When we bifurcated our information ecosystem, we doubled the number of realities hosted by our nation and available to our citizenry for occupancy …

The phenomenon I am referencing is easily recognized once seen. You may know what I am calling bubbles as echo chambers or something else (Joy and Rachel often employ the Earth One and Earth Two monikers). Whatever we call them, the effect is that it feels like there are two distinct realities in this country.

To greatly simplify my hypothesis, I believe our dual realities were fully developed when social media supplanted print media as a primary news source for millions of Americans.

My essays often focus on how this alternate reality has been used to exploit its occupants, to lead them to believe in a shadowy high power cabal drinking up babies whilst wearing little girl faces in the pursuit of immortality, or even to convince them the last thing they want amidst a deadly pandemic is a prophylactic vaccine; but, if you get the Earth One and Earth Two reference you’re good. You can just think Earth wherever you see bubble.

what I like to refer to as our dual reality bubbles. I also like to number these bubbles from oldest to newest. Let’s look again at the House ideology scores.

Notice that the traditional score is not sufficient for plotting ideologies for our current legislators. We must adjust for the bifurcation by assigning each representative to one of our bubbles.

So here is where my ideology scoring system breaks with tradition. It reflects an additional data point specifying whether the congressional voting record leans more Earth One or Earth Two (which, of course, I was calling bubble one and bubble two). I posit that in a dual reality America, bubble associations are required to fully understand the ideologies of our legislators.

Rather than repeat myself here, I would point you to the evolution of the post we are walking through (where, just to confuse you even further, I introduce the Upside Up and the Upside Down as yet another pair of monikers for these bubbles), as it includes a more thorough treatment of how my bubble scores were calculated.

With so many House members, I only had room for the district labels, so you’ll find Liz labeled by her district, WY0, and Adam by his district, IL16, and so on.

Labels that begin with an asterisk (*) indicate freshmen for which a traditional ideology score from govtrack.us was unavailable. The x-axis value for these labels indicates only where I felt I had the most room for working them into the plot.

Every label that does not begin with an asterisk (*) has been properly placed along the x-axis according to the traditional ideology score received for 2020.

I was able to generate a bubble association score for every member, including those represented by a label that begins with an asterisk (*). Labels residing in the top half of the plot were scored as associating with bubble one. Labels placed in the bottom half of the plot were scored as associating with bubble two. Y-axis values are arbitrary aside from this bubble assignment. There were a sh$t ton of labels to fit.

Before beginning to explore the implications of the information depicted, a minor digression.

The traditional two-party system with which we’re all familiar requires both parties to reside within a shared common reality. Without a common reality, there is no civil discourse as there is no common ground.

Civil discourse is all about finding common ground … and finding common ground requires a shared reality. The implication here is that dual realities prohibit common ground, which prohibits civil discourse. Consequentially, dual realities and the American Experiment are incompatible.

Time to italicly explore those implications I promised.

Within each reality bubble, however, political systems are recognizable. Within the alternate reality bubble, bubble two, we find a strong one-party system (this tracks with the pivot towards authoritarianism we’ve all noticed).

Things get interesting when we consider each bubble in isolation. Let’s look just at the bubble two labels. What do we see?

We find a sea of red, only one party enjoys representation on Earth Two. One-party states tend to be authoritarian in nature.

Within bubble one, we are clinging to our two-party system. The extra ideological dimension is the missing piece of the puzzle for sorting that inner conflict (and all the ammunition you need when telling that numb-nuts to go f$&k himself).

Liz and Adam represent the conservative element within bubble one.

Now, let’s have a look at just the bubble one labels. What do we see?

We clearly find two parties represented in bubble one (however lopsided the numbers). This is the two-party system we with which we are all familiar. Civil discourse is only made possible when representation is split across two or more parties. Liz and Adam represent the conservative element on Earth One. Their presence on Earth One is weighted more heavily than their conservative ideology.

On the home stretch now, let’s italicly rephrase the conclusion I’ve drawn, in part, from the information depicted.

We are b@lls deep in the War of the Bubbles. The dual reality configuration is unsustainable and will lead to a failed democracy. This is why we are allies. We believe in democracy. We want bubble one to outlive bubble two.

To rephrase this uncharacteristically crude sentiment, okay, so remember 7485 characters ago ( give or take) when I was all:

Battle lines must be redrawn in a broader scope.

This is where it gets redrawn. The battle for the soul of America is not between the left and the right, it is between bubble one and bubble two. That metaphorical battle line we have always drawn along the x-axis … that line must now be drawn along the y-axis. American democracy is unsustainable under a dual reality configuration. One reality must swallow up the other. The bubble is now the tribe.

The bubble merger … that is earliest point at which it becomes safe again to dabble with norms and precedents. That is when all bets get called off concerning Liz and Adam.

Any inner-turmoil fueled by x-axis concerns is superseded by y-axis concerns for as long as those concerns lay unresolved. All Earth One denizens want Earth Two to implode so we might return to a shared reality that is compatible with civil discourse. Once (knock on f$&king wood) we have achieved this, we no longer need to align with Liz or Adam and the battle line may once more be drawn along the x-axis.

Okay, let’s italicly rephrase the big finish and call it a day, shall we?

Anyone dabbling with norms and precedents before that second bubble f$&king pops is f$&king up … for they’ve failed to see the forest through the trees.

Until our dual realities have merged into that shared reality (knock on f$&king wood), one mustn’t rely on old knowledge … on norms and precedents that do not take into consideration the dual reality bubbles within which our populace has been divided. Those doing so are inherently ill-equipped as they are oblivious to an entire dimension of relevancy.

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carlanews · 3 years

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26/07/2021

Ex oriente lux (2018), en pofundidad, en el número de agosto 2021 de Monthy Photography, revista surcoreana mensual de fotografía y arte publicando desde agosto de 1966.

Ex oriente lux (2018), in depth, at the August 2021 issue of Monthy Photography, South Korean Photography Art monthly magazine publishing from August of 1966.

Entrevista en inglés / Interview in English:

You started <Ex Oriente Lux> when you were investigating the theoretical legacy of some French Occultists. Could you explain ‘the theoretical legacy of some French Occultists’?

I am deeply interested in everything that has to do with the unknown, understood as that which cannot be reached through the cognitive capacities, nor can it be domesticated, controlled or dominated. The French philosopher Simone Weil understands the supernatural as the love for the natural. Based on this, I suppose that this fascination I have for the supernatural, or what goes beyond the ordinary reality, stems from a deep love for nature and for reality itself, as it is. Likewise, through my work, I try to question the ‘mandatory reality’ or what belongs to the consensus reality, what is imposed, pre-established and assumed. As a result, I have always been interested in alternative narratives that defy rational logic.

France, and specifically Paris, is an authentic Masonic labyrinth that hides, behind its architecture and urban organization, a lot of knowledge linked to the occult and esoteric sciences. This is to say, all that unofficial knowledge that has accompanied Western history, although had remain in the shadows. France has been the place of confluence of many thinkers who have been located outside mainstream thinking. Thus, instigated by these motivations, I applied for an artist’s residency at the Cité des Arts de Paris, not only to visit libraries or museums, where I could inform myself about these subjects that interest me greatly but also to walk its streets to be impregned of this hidden wisdom that conceives the existence of issues that challenge the Western hegemonic logic.

Particurlarly, I was interested in studying the controversial figure of the French occultist Alexandre Saint-Yves d'Alveydre (1842 - 1909) and his theories about "Agartha", a secret underground kingdom established at the beginning of the Kali Yuga (Iron Age), according to the Vedic tradition in the 3200 B.C, approximately. This place is more advanced technologically and spiritually than our world and the system of government is what he calls the “Synarchy”. According to him, when our world will adopt the Synarchy system, Agartha will be revealed to us. Saint-Yves also mastered the art of releasing his astral body, and like this, he could visit Agartha by himself.

There are several previous versions of Agartha, or about a similar place, like Pauwels and Bergier version, Ernest Renan or the French freethinker, Louis Jacolliot (1837 - 1890) who created the Agartha myth. There is also an obvious resemblance to the novel by Bulwer Lytton “The Coming Race” (1871) or to “Ghostland, or Researches into the Mysteries of Occultism” (1876) published under the auspices of Emma Hardinge Britten, medium and founding member of the Theosophical Society. As well, the concept of a secret kingdom where wise people live and work existed since the eighteenth century within the Freemasonry of the Strict Observance, with what they call "Unknown Superiors".

These theories about the existence of Agartha supported by Saint-Yves d'Alveydre are related with the ideas affirming the existence of a hole at the North Pole and the hollow Earth hypothesis, fervently defended, among others, by John Cleves Symmes (1780-1829). They are also linked with topics from popular cultures, such as lost races, conspiracy theories, the Holy Grail, UFOs, the Apocalypse and others. As Ekkehard Hieronimus advised: "What is happening in the lower layers of society is certainly much more powerful and effective than what happens in intellectual circles".

I referred to your previous interview to know about <Ex Oriente Lux> It would be great if you explain more details and easier about <Ex Oriente Lux>

As you already know, this project started during an artist residency in Paris. I went there to study in-depth about some authors related to Esoteric and Hermetic Sciences, but also to be closer to the French Occultism tradition that reverberates everywhere in this city. Once there, nevertheless, I found myself totally overwhelmed by the complexity of this matter and, as its name already advises, by its hermeticism and secrecy. But as with every project I do, my first purposes end up always being modified as the reality itself brings new events that I need to adapt to.

For all mentioned above, “Ex oriente lux” is still open, it conforms the first part of an unfinished project. The title refers to the Latin phrase “Ex oriente lux, ex occidente dux” (light comes from the East, power from the West) alluding to the meaning of travelling to the East as a symbolic ascension to the light and wisdom source. The East as a symbol of the occult and otherworldly.

Thus, this first approach to this endless subject is through the most basic and well-known principle of the hermetic sciences -"as above, so below"- collected in the Emerald Tablet by Hermes Trismegistus. This means that as it is “outside” (for instance, the Cosmos) it is “inside” (the Earth). Therefore, there is a correspondence between what we see, and what we can’t see; what is far away and what is close; and so on. As a result of these ideas, the first part of this work is an installation composed by pictures of different types of stones and marbles taken at the Louvre Museum in Paris (a venue with powerful masonic symbolism and full of hidden codes). It depicts a sort of mirror of the cosmos in order to highlight the historic connection between freemasonry and stoneworkers - guardians of secret legacies transmitted through encrypted messages carved in the stones -. So, this photo-installation is formed by pieces of hypothetical planets and landscapes resulting from a sort of Big-Bang explosion, recalling the similarity these stones have with incredible otherworldly imaginary landscapes. These images are printed on transparent plexiglass and cut in different geometrical shapes. Moreover, the installation is completed with smoke, small mirrors and lights that form beams of light in the space.

The second part of “Ex oriente lux” is also based on the Law of Analogy but this time I focused on the ideas related to that what happens in the stars is directly connected with what happens on the planet and our lives. Starts rule the plane of formation of the material world, called the “astral plane”. This plane - another dimension - works as the motor and it connects the abstract - the world of the ideas - with the matter itself and the physical world. So, according to the occult sciences, it is the necessary intermediary for all transformations or movements to happen, this is, the engine of life. In this way, the moon and the sun, which in alchemy have a remarkable meaning as well as being the maximum symbol of divinity in theosophical esotericism, are aligned and reflected on Earth. They are basic elements of our everyday life and they depict the realm of reality. Specially, in the world of outwards appearances we live, not only for being more and more virtual, but even before Internet or AI, it was already a pre-establishedsociety living in a kind of organised scenery.

If I understood about <Ex Oriente Lux>, do you hope to show your interest and language that the important relationship between moon and sun in Occult science?

Both, the sun and the moon, as well as the rest of the stars in the universe, are crucial elements for all forms of esoterism, mysticism or alternative narratives that, for instance, don’t derive from Christianity. The most ancient cultures, the pagan traditions, considered them as objects of worship since they were a source of answers of all that we cannot control or understand.

Could you let me know the process to photograph suns and moons?

I photographed them with 35mm and 8mm film. Only the analogue film can organically catch those lights, since the burnt in analogue film is not necessarily a loss of information as it is in digital photography. Those inherent elements of film that are often treated as mistakes: overexposure, bleaching of the frame, lens flare or ending fading, I deem them to be something precious because these ‘errors’ are, in fact, faithful to reality. Film, as the sun and the moon, has its own life and it’s an alchemy process and it’s precisely this what I find interesting.

Besides, having been born facing the Atlantic Ocean, I have always had the opportunity to enjoy the whole daily journey of the sun, which is always very present in my hometown since it transforms the colours and lights of all that is around. This spontaneous attraction led me to photograph the sun in all its different ways, also because, it is never the same thing. I always felt that being able to enjoy it, it’s one of the biggest privileges I could have… Despite it is sometimes considered as a cliché of beauty, or its features tend to be exaggerated. For me, it a simply quotidian event embodying spectacular radical alterity.

Each photo work’s color (or sky and sun’s color) is different. (black & white, purple, red and so on). Is there special reason?

Regarding the alchemical character of film, I am interested in the transformation it implicates, which is uncontrollable and whose nature is unshowable. When you work with film it exists this relationship with alchemy and magic. Film evokes what it is beyond the rational self, as well as the immanent transcendence that the medium itself already holds. It triggers a kind of mystical experience or poetics. It is a journey to an unknown place, far removed from the actual world, to which analogue photography transports us and it cannot be replaced or reproduced by any other means. I allow myself to be free in the use of colours as a sort of celebration of the miracle of the photochemical and its uniqueness. This is to recreate the illusory and alchemical character of film as well as the blindness and mystery of the medium. There is not an unfailing desire to master the medium, but to appreciate its particular beauty, leaving room for the surprise of what is not preestablished or premeditated. Beauty is in that which is out of control, unfathomable, side-lined, that which is considered useless or unimportant. Beauty is in everyday life.

As you focus on the mysticism / Occult, What did you pay attention for <Ex Oriente Lux>?

When I started this project, I had a lot of curiosity about the occult sciences as was already mentioned. During my research, I learned about concepts such as the "astral plane" or the "law of analogy" but also, I approached an unknown universe for me. All those experiences were translated visually, in a reality-language related to the intimate, the spiritual and the most basic and direct experience of the world itself.

Do you have any message to people or What do you want the audience to feel?

More than messages, I would like my work to be received just as an aesthetic experience that brings new languages and approaches to reality. It’s rather about transmitting openness, to underscore the fact that things are never in just one way, but they can be in infinitely different ways; and about the enjoyment derived from experiencing them, instead of closing ourselves to the otherness. It’s about going beyond the compartmentalised and watertight thinking through which we often see reality. In my work, there is a desire to know what it’s beyond the specific, pragmatic and utilitarian world in which we normally are immersed. It speaks about breaking barriers and borders, about the necessity of being in contact with different types of cosmovision, what links it directly to travel, but it speaks also about other kinds of journeys, more intimates. This is, to softly touch what is very meaningful for us but never ends up taking a specific form, nevertheless. In my work, there is always something that remains unfinished and unclosed; something that can’t be grasped nor categorised. Therefore, my work is located in this liminal and bewildering area which is related to our internal labyrinth in which I decide to get lost and even surrender to that emotional experience; in order to reach a collective unconscious. It is an emotional mechanism that is profoundly human. My work is a permanent search that never ends up dwelling a definitive shape. An endless seek whose purpose never finds an answer. It’s about got steeped by the world and delving into our inner labyrinths. In this sense, it has an oceanic feeling. This is to say, there is a strong inclination to adventure besides the necessity of isolation. These are contradictory concepts, but it is precisely this confusion and indeterminacy that governs my work; a strong necessity to connect to the world but also of seclusion. My work is also about aspirations that never are accomplished. It has to do with temporality and imperfection; a sort of work-in-progress.

It’s funny that sometime after finishing this project about “suns” and “moons”, I discovered that in my astral map, the sun is located in the 12th house which is related to all the ideas mentioned above. Knowing this all this made some more sense to me. The 12th house has to do with the idea of labyrinth, it is the house of the incessant seeks that steadily sails through the uncertainty (…)

You made stone works with photo works. What does the stone work mean in <Ex Oriente Lux>? I just wonder why you work in stone as well?

Actually, it is plexiglass imitating stones. But they are transparent and light stones, like if they were trying to escape from the gravity that stone implicates. This approach to the factual character materials bring is always present in my practice because I consider my photography work not only as a succession of images. Rather, they conclude or find their ultimate meaning on a determined space and position, as well as time. Size, place and material are important issues I bear in mind when creating my projects. These aspects provide new meanings but also create a kind of “aura” due to the total experience we have when experiencing the work…

what was the most difficulties when you work for <Ex Oriente Lux>? Or Do you have any unforgettable story during work?

It was quite a challenging project. First, it was hard to decode all those so cryptic texts written by Alexandre Saint Yves. They are really dense and complex. They’re full of references related, for example, to Kabbalah, even more hermetic to me, or other subjects linked to occult sciences. Secondly, another difficulty was how to visually materialise all those ideas, languages and mental images I was immersed in. This is, what to photograph now?

Also, I decided to become a member of the Rosicrucian Order, but it was not that easy and it required a lot of dedication and continuity so, after a conversation with someone related to freemasonry, I had the feeling that if try to enter in that world, this is to really try to “understand” Kabbalah, etc, my life would probably change forever. New beliefs and information would completely take my life in a different direction. I am an extremely sensitive person, for the good and the bad, so I realised that I was not, at all, prepared for all that, at least in that specific moment of my life. Maybe one day in the future. In any case, this project opened my eyes to new realities and, somehow, it has already changed my view of the world.

It would be great if you explain 2~4 photo works that you hope to mention to subscribers.

This photo was taken during a Solar Eclipse in my hometown, Nigrán (Spain). It was probably the most incredible eclipse I’ve ever seen. I went to a place I love on a mountain called Monteferro with my friend Cristina, where there is an amazing view. It’s not rare that when we both meet; special things happen around. Just a few seconds before the sun started to be covered by the moon, a cloak of clouds coming from the horizon covered the sea very quickly. Suddenly, we could only see a dense layer of clouds as if we were in a high peak but actually, we were not that far from the sea. The light changed becoming slightly darker but not only that, but the whole atmosphere changed in a few minutes. It was breathtaking, we were in a totally different landscape. I had never seen the clouds moving so fast as if they were spirits coming towards us. After some minutes of the total eclipse, the clouds started to move away and everything becomes the same it was; a sunny, bright and clear summer day. I took the picture when the clouds were going back to the horizon, because before I was so amazed that I could not even react.

These two pictures usually are shown in two lightboxes that work as a diptych. They were taken very early in the morning, when the sun was rising, near the Mont Blanc Mountain (France), with a Super 8 camera using the one-frame shoot mood. This moment was after a strong snowstorm. The atmosphere was full of fog which worked as a sort of a diffuser for the sunlight. It was really amazing.

#carlaandrade

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sciencespies · 4 years

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Nearly Half of South America’s Mammals Came from North America, New Research May Explain Why

https://sciencespies.com/news/nearly-half-of-south-americas-mammals-came-from-north-america-new-research-may-explain-why/

Nearly Half of South America’s Mammals Came from North America, New Research May Explain Why

North and South America haven’t always been connected. South America functioned as a continent-sized island for millions of years following the extinction of the dinosaurs, incubating its own strange assembly of animals such as giant ground sloths, massive armored mammals akin to armadillos and saber-toothed marsupial carnivores. Meanwhile, North America was exchanging animals with Asia, populating it with the ancestors of modern horses, camels and cats, writes Asher Elbein for the New York Times.

Finally, when tectonic activity formed the Isthmus of Panama roughly ten million years ago, a massive biological exchange took place. The many species that had been evolving in isolation from one another on both continents began migrating across the narrow new land bridge. Llamas, raccoons, wolves and bears trekked south, while armadillos, possums and porcupines went north.

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It would be reasonable to expect this grand biological and geological event, known to paleontologists as the Great American Biotic Interchange, resulted in equal numbers of northern and southern species spreading across the two land masses; but that’s not what happened.

Instead, many more North American mammal species made homes down south than the other way around. Almost half of living South American mammals have North American evolutionary roots, whereas only around ten percent of North American mammals once hailed from South America. Now, researchers who reviewed some 20,000 fossils may have an answer, according to the Times.

According to the paper, published this week in the journal the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, the asymmetry of immigrant mammal diversity we see today was the result of droves of South American mammals going extinct, leaving gaping ecological holes waiting to be filled by northern species and reducing the pool of potential immigrant species to make the trek north, reports Christine Janis, an ecologist at the University of Bristol, for the Conversation.

“This faunal exchange can be seen as a natural experiment: two continents, each with its own kind of animals were connected by a narrow land bridge, allowing massive migrations in both directions,” Juan Carrillo, a paleontologist at the National Museum of Natural History in Paris, fellow at the Smithsonian Tropical Research Institute and first author of the study, says in a statement. “Our study shows how these migrations happened and that South American mammals had more extinctions. The effect of this exchange can be still seen today.”

Traditionally, researchers explained the asymmetry of mammal diversity in a few ways. Perhaps more mammal species travelled south than vice versa, or maybe there was a larger pool of northern species to begin with, according to the Conversation. An even more antiquated explanation posited that the “superior” northerners simply out-competed the southerners, a hypothesis that Janis notes smacks of colonialism and racial bias.

But when Carrillo and his team analyzed the fossil record to evaluate the merits of these various hypotheses, extinction was the only one supported by the evidence. He tells the Times that when the land bridge first opened around ten million years ago the exchange of species was “relatively balanced…But what we found was that five million years ago in the Pliocene, there was a disproportionate decline in diversity.”

Some of these extinctions were once explained as being the outcomes of lost ecological battles with northern species. Instead, Janis explains in the Conversation, “the abundance of South American carnivores today, including the fox-on-stilts maned wolf, the otter-cat jaguarundi and the lemur-like kinkajou, is not testament to placental carnivores being superior to marsupial counterparts: rather, their ancestors invaded essentially virgin territory, which the previous occupants had already vacated, and then diversified into wonderous new forms.”

These extinctions prior to the peak years of the Great American Biotic Interchange don’t appear to have a simple explanation, Carrillo tells the Times. Climatic shifts towards drier conditions may have caused forests to retreat in South America, perhaps to the detriment of its wildlife. It’s also not impossible that competition with species of northern origin played a role, but as Carrillo tells the Times, “probably the reason for the extinctions is quite complex, and includes some biological interactions and habitat change.”

#News

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dinodrifterdarsh · 7 years

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Toffee's apparent demise (and Star's resurrection)

Well, The Battle for Mewni certainly was a rollercoaster of emotions. A lotta stuff happened in it, but I’m going to focus on what’s likely to be the most contentious thing: Toffee’s apparent death. Okay, it’s not so much apparent as it is kinda-confirmed by staff, and the story itself (Eclipsa’s crystal cracking) but there’s still a lot to unpackage.

At first, I wasn’t sure if Toffee was truly dead, and while I certainly want him to come back as a cameo or something, I’m pretty sure he’s actually dead-dead (at least physically, cough cough). Now, a lotta folks (including me earlier) think that the “Toffee can regenerate” thing means the demise is pretty open-ended, for good reason. Characters with regenerative powers, especially powerful ones, are notorious for not actually dying, and Toffee himself has escaped situations where he’s apparently died (Storm the Castle).

But I hypothesize that when Toffee reforms his body, it’s not his original body. It’s a body made out of the black goop that’s Star’s corrupted magic. By doing this, Toffee loses the bulk of his regenerative abilities and/or is vulnerable to Star’s (new?) magic, which is the antithesis of Toffee’s literal being. Toffee is then mostly destroyed/neutralized by Mewberty 2.0 Star’s magic blast, and had his physical form finally finished off by Ludo. Oh, and Star might now be made up of magic.

There are several pieces of evidence that support this hypothesis, so let’s start from the beginning.

The first time we see Toffee get injured is in Storm the Castle, when Star blasts his arm off with an unnamed spell.

Notice that Toffee’s wound is flesh-coloured. Oh, and the pink butterflies surrounding it. Toffee takes it pretty well all things considered.

This is the first time we see Toffee regenerating. It’s his real body, and we see that the arm growing back is very flesh-colored, similar to the stump it comes from. After most of it grows back, the arm returns to the natural grey-blue tone Toffee has.

This is also what we see with Rasticore and his arm growing back.

Now let’s contrast that with what we see happen when Toffee is injured in his titular episode.

In a great emotional moment, Marco, thinking his best friend is dead and gone, punches straight through Toffee in a fit of rage. Given the location of where Marco punched Toffee, it’s clear that Marco was trying to kill Toffee by punching through his heart.

But wait, where did Marco get this strength from?

Punching through someone’s body is not easy at all, and in that very same episode, Marco is unable to free Star by breaking the metal restraints with his bare hands (and hurts himself instead). Something’s fishy, and even Toffee notices it.

Look at Toffee’s facial expression. He’s pretty shocked by what happened. He knows Marco is a regular human, and he knows Marco has some martial arts skill. Why did Marco suddenly get strong enough to punch through Toffee? Or did Toffee actually get weaker?

Look at what’s on Marco’s hand. It’s not blood, it’s not any fleshy bits you’d expect given that we’ve seen Toffee’s original body have what looks to be flesh and blood. It’s the sludge we see inside Ludo-space.

It’s the same sludge that Toffee is made of when he’s possessing Ludo.

It’s Star’s magic, even though Star doesn’t recognize it (and Toffee does...HMMM).

Only Toffee has corrupted it.

Remember, something was draining magic from the universe. We didn’t know what that would look like, and a lotta folks suspected it was Toffee. Turns out that’s correct, and we can literally see all the magic that Toffee has corrupted, and it’s lots.

We see when Toffee makes the deal with Moon that his sludge form gets sucked up and out of Ludo-space, and it goes….somewhere, notably leaving behind a ton of it.

And it manifests on Ludo’s body in this gruesome sequence.

Notice how the sludge is becoming not only Toffee’s skeleton and body, but even the suit. Toffee’s body is literally being made out of (Star’s) corrupted magic.

And when this corrupted magic-made body is injured, the wounds look different than the one’s we’ve seen on Toffee’s original body. There’s no flesh-colored wound, there’s not even internal organs. The wound is made of goop which we see on Marco’s hand, and the hole just gets filled up.

But what are the (practical) implications of this? For one,Toffee is less durable than before, because the black goop is just that-goop. It’s not too tough given that Star can swim around in the stuff, but it is pretty viscous. Another possibility is that Toffee might not have the same regenerative powers he used to. Remember, this new body is not an exact replica of his original body-we don’t know if it can regenerate to the same extent as earlier.

But Toffee isn’t the only one rebuilding a body out of magic.

When Star dives down and has her talk with Glossaryck (who appears to give her the magic seed), she dips down into a cauldron. Now, the specifics of that are for another time, but the important thing for this whole spiel is the color of the cauldron when Star dips down into it. Namely, golden.

Much like this. Yes, it’s Star’s magic.

And this time, Star’s magic is purging (or overwriting, or just outmassing) Toffee’s corrupted version of Star’s magic.

This culminates with Star being reborn in a golden (Mewberty) form.

Compare the sequence of events that lead up to the rebirths of Star and Toffee.

Toffee became stuck (intentionally) in Ludo-space after the Whispering Spell blew up Star’s complete wand in his face. He eventually gets out and rebuilds his body using Star’s corrupted magic, which is seen in the form of black goop.

Star uses the Whispering Spell to blow up Toffee’s half of the wand and gets stuck inside Ludo-space too. She eventually gets out and rebuilds her body using her own, golden magic goop.

The fact that Star’s yellow magic is overwhelming/purging Toffee’s corrupted magic comes up in the final sequence. When Star fires this spell-a spell she’s never used nor known-we see that it’s the same color as her magic-that distinctive golden hue.

When Toffee gets hit by this, he immediately starts reverting to his goop form. We see this happen to his suit and flesh and skeleton, which are made up of corrupted magic.

By the time the blast finishes, Toffee is left with a mostly-melted upper torso with black goop dripping off of him.

Notice how Toffee’s skull looks all warped and melted. It’s not bones that have melted, it’s the corrupted magic that makes up Toffee’s skeleton falling apart/being degraded due to Star’s own golden magic.

I believe that while Toffee successfully corrupted Star’s magic, with Star’s rebirth, she was able to undo that corruption and restore her magic to its proper (golden) state. Star’s golden spell similarly undoes/purifies Toffee because it’s once again her magic undoing Toffee’s corruption of Star’s magic (which is what literally makes up his physical form).

Toffee is on his last legs after the blast. Er, metaphorically speaking. He’s made up of corrupted magic, not flesh and blood. Star’s rebirth and spell are antitheses to Toffee’s very being, and he’s falling apart. Toffee can’t regenerate because there isn’t enough of (Star’s) corrupted magic left (making up his body at least), due to her rebirth and the spell itself. Ludo toppling the pillar splatters what’s left of Toffee, who at this point is degenerating into more and more goop (possibly having a harder and harder time maintaining physical cohesion as he nears death). All that’s left of Toffee is a goopy pulp under a pillar and an eyeball.

And so a great villain finally meets his (likely) demise. Hopefully, my explanation of Toffee’s demise makes some sense, but feel free to chuck constructive criticism and feedback and alternative theories at me!

Oh, and here’s some food for thought. Yes, Toffee’s physical form was destroyed, again. But what happened to the rest of Star’s Toffee-corrupted magic? Was it all purged and returned to being Star’s magic?

Or did some of it remain, somewhere-and if so...is Toffee’s essence or even mind still in it?

#star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #the battle for mewni #star #marco #toffee #ludo #magic #resurrection #death #analysis #hypothesis #or something

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Wyatt answers a question (Part1)

Telling me not to so something makes me want to do it even more, DJ. Why Israel? Because when I joined this movement, I notice everyone talks about every other country but no serious discussion on Israel. No one is safe from criticism imo. So how about we do that, DJ? Shall we? Let's have honest discussion, DJ. Because truth is coming. It is obvious that elite 1% hide behind good jewish people to commit atrocities and profit on top of them. Much like America. I have no problem admitting that. We are great, but we are also monsters to much of the world. The elite 1% have created the jewish vehicle and manipulate good Americans and good Israelis, they do not care about the Jews. At. All. They hide behind them. In fact, Honest Jews should be most vocal. This common knowledge outside the schizophrenic propaganda bubble in America. Oh trust me, DJ, they don't care if you Jewish or Moslem or Christian. They have plans for each of you. They will use you. Tarnish your name. They will ride you like vehicle, & when you crash, they will use other vehicle. HRC=vehicle. Jews=vehicle. Christian's are vehicles. It's all pretty simple if you put emotions aside and think from perspective of psychotic king. Tbh, all of this new to me, I've only started looking into this topic since 2018. How the good jewish people aren't outraged is beyond me. I really don't get it. It'll be hard, ofc. It's funny. Some Q people follow like no one's biz and have malfunction when Israel brought up even tho Q says "saving Israel last." People afraid to RT etc but my views way up, so obv ppl curious & reading. Massive redpills incoming. Bend over and say ah. One side note. I like Gorka, but he gets foolish and smeared low follower acct I follow not long ago because he asked legitimate Q about Holocaust. Q everything? Gorka called him "denier." That is what I mean. No hate ever, we want honest discussion & curious why the deflections Also I dont always have opinion on the stuff I write about, just sayin. So if you say anything to me like dumb cuck, I'll laugh. I'm just typing what I see. Even from multiple perspectives sometimes But the Q was about the Holocaust numbers. Fair question. So I looked into it. The outright denial is chidish imo and not serious person. People definitely died, and there were labor camps, but numbers get questionable. Yes, yes they do. You can find examples everywhere. There was a single witness who supposedly was in two concentration camps and is the primary source for about 1/3 of Holocaust deaths. It's a nasty rabbit hole, but you figure out that a lot is stack of exaggerations. One of the most obvious is the fact that the Nazi's crematoriums would have had to burn a body about 10x faster than a modern one and be running 24/7 for years with literal zero downtime. There's a reason why they specifically say "Historians agree that 6 million died" because it's just an agreement, not an actual number based on facts. Have you ever seen the Treblinka Holocaust Memorial? It looks pretty strange for a "memorial". Looks like they just Holocaust historians claim that during WW2 almost 900,000 people were killed and buried at Treblinka. And they claim that later the Germans dug up and burned the bodies in order to destroy the evidence. In 1999 a team of experts used an $80,000 Ground Penetration Radar (GPR) device to check for evidence that the soil had ever been disturbed as . They found no evidence of any soil disturbance. They covered the field with 17,000 boulders/stones and called it a memorial.Now you can't run any more Ground Penetration Radar tests - not without moving 17,000 boulders (which are set into concrete). Of course, doing this would be disturbing a sacred Holocaust "memorial" - which would land you in jail. Mission Accomplished. The whole Holocaust thing and the way the elite 1% use as a vehicle is very strange and fascinating at same time. Are you not at all curious as to why this is the only genocide event that needs legal protection by throwing "deniers" into jail? Or do you just happily overdose on the forced narratives? Surely the elite would never lie to you. They aren't psychopaths or anything. Trust us. Genuine Question. Why do we hear about the Holocaust over and over in movies, TV shows, documentaries, newspapers, books, etc. but almost never hear about the HUNDREDS of other historical genocides? It seems very weird until you figure out the real purpose of all this. Ask yourself one simple question, How in the world does Israel get away with their mass murder, ethnic cleansing and brutal oppression - if we're going to be honest. I have criticism for both sides of that conflict, don't get me wrong. I'm staying on outside looking in though. Why are we very allowed to discuss the idea of white privilege, but forbidden from discussion of the hypothesis of Jewish privilege? Foolish if you don't think it applies the other way too. In three words... Guilt/elites/vehicles. Guilt over Holocaust. Sick, but brilliant, no? The ultimate Guilt trip enables the ultimate in psychological manipulation. You see, Holocaust means that they entitled to special rights - the right to forbid people from discussing their disproportionate wealth & political influence. THE PERFECT VEHICLE. How do you not see? A found that the number one reason Jewish Americans give as the source of their identity as Jews is not race or religion. Instead when asked "What does it mean to be Jewish?", the number one reason given (73%) was "Remembering the Holocaust". Hm. Some people think of it as a secular pseudo-religion called Holocaust-ianity or some shit (combining the words "holocaust" and "Christianity"). Laws in many U.S. states, known as , mandate teaching to all school children. Vedddy weird folks, no? This indoctrinates kids with the belief that the Jewish people are "unique" in their historical victim-hood. This puts Jews at the very top of the victim hierarchy. This was the goal from beginning, since widely believed victim narrative gives you political power, being top of victim hierarchy give you the most political power. That's why holocaust-ianity causes people to believe that Jews deserve special rights that no one else has. They mean well, but man are they slow. For example, holocaust-ianity means wealthy inbred morons can manipulate Israel and somehow hold ethical exemption to create type of racist country, whether citizens realize or not. Laughable. Israel is diverse. I know 4 that live in Haifa and they travel all over. Lefties, righties, buncha groups. If Mr.Trump just stomped out the major criminal networks we wouldn't even be dealing with any of this bullschiff. Regular citizens always the ones who suffer. It's pathetic. Normal chill citizens there can easily do what we are doing. What I'm saying is I condemn both sides of region but also support both sides for defending themselves. Innocent people always caught up in the middle. What I'm really saying is that Israel needs to flush their toilet. Not hard to separate elite agenda from normal people on planet. Some idiots will follow like lefties here. Man made systems. Can be infiltrated and can be used as vehicles to manipulate the masses of genuine good people out there. Also dont forget the horrific stuff Japanese did. And then you have them working with China and selling sensitive information and testing out traitorous surveillance tech. Like Hillary. Who is Rothschild pet. God forbid we should ever cut off their billions and cut aid entirely for now - they might really stab us in the back. Holocaust-ianity gives right to violate principle free speech, so people can be censored etc. Use Dan Cringeshaw, but never trust Dan Cringeshaw. He said it best. Said you're allowed to question everything and criticize every govt except for one lucky winner. Hint: not USA Currently no other vehicle at time has this special political right to protect the victim-hood narrative against people who might use their free speech rights to question the narrative. Also why Obama talked schmack but still agreed to send billions. Elites are manipulating you. The political power engendered by Holocaust-ianity is so powerful that it must be protected at all costs from the blasphemers, otherwise known as holocaust "deniers." Pathetic boring game by 1%. Make no mistake. Creating J victimhood and using as vehicle is nothing new at all. If you start seriously questioning the narratives, some will malfunction and start melting and end up blocking you or telling me "why they are going to block me now" lolol. It's so childish and weird. All we're doing is talking, asking questions, normal stuff. So scary ... ffs. Literally only thing I remember learning in Highschool was Holocaust and Rwandan genocide only because chill mf teacher put on movie Hotel Rwanda (really really good btw) about Rwandan genocide. We were taught as if Holocaust was the only genocide. Others not brought up. Why? I got indoctrinated by bs and became bored and 100% distanced from all this. When I saw a lot of the truth and became fascinated and interested in our history and cemented love of country and realized there are shit load of atrocities - feels clown like to treat anyone special. I wish more would sit down and look at things more honestly. Even if you dont know answer. I openly talk about all these topics with whites, blacks, hispanics, asians, my best friend Filipino (Dodi), or other best friend Sikh (Deepak), 99% understand none of this is our fault. That's why the state of Israel denies the Armenian Holocaust. That's also why the state of Israel denies the Polish Holocaust. And that's why the state of Israel agrees Ukrainian Holocaust must be downplayed. Even ADL on video bullied Ukraine into There can be only one **top** victim narrative. We can't even trade positions for like a day. Boring! And that position must belong to the "most oppressed people in history" - the "chosen people". *barf* The clip showing ADL's triggered bullying is from a documentary called "Defamation". Created by an Israeli Jew. Jews aren't a race, they are a religion Jewish supremacists in some top universities teach that Judaism is only a religion and that Jews are really just white people. Of course, it's not true and they know it. America's Most Famous Rabbi (as well as Israeli scientists) admitted that Jews are a Race, not a Religion. So why do they teach the "Judaism is only a religion" fallacy? They do this so that they can promote the idea of "White Supremacy" imo. If Judaism is nothing but a religion, that means the concept of ["White Supremacy" can be used as camouflage to cover up the fact that we actually live in a System of Jewish Supremacy. Also you do NOT have to be "Jewish." It's a game. Many people like myself are very new to breaking out of the mind control propaganda. They've had an almost total lock on the information for many decades. The internet is allowing a break out of the 'forbidden' information. The Jewish Supremacists are clearly freaking out and trying their best to bring censorship to the internet under the cover of "hate speech" laws. Hopefully enough people can be de-programmed in time to prevent the censoring of more internet. The axis of power in the world is doing tilts and Israel has to start wiggling itself into good position with China. As for the US, state of Israel doesn't give two schiffs about US or its people, you are tax farm and buncha fools who will jump to defense when they tell you to. It's going to be interesting to see how they will attempt to wiggle w Chinese, they are less easily manipulated than the Americans. If you step on toes once they will not forget. Not like US which has gaping whole for ass of the huge arse f'ng it has been getting for years now. You should really talk to some Israelis or read what they write online. A few good websites out there. Israel is more critical of Israel than the US is of Israel. It is hysterical to me. Some Americans think Israel is some hivemind and each person is connected with a string. US "ally" Israel routinely caught sending American troops in to do the fighting they should be doing themselves. Israel is not the home of the chosen people. There are no chosen people. What a strange ridiculous idea. Some conservatives get creepy about it. I see in my replies. Israelis have own interest in mind, always have. We may think they are our allies, but if somebody else gives them a better deal, they will sell us. That's just a fact. We have no real allies. Doesn't mean we end trade or anything. But we should know where everyone's coming from. It's just weird how the influence is all up in media. Hollywood. Basically 40% of all billionaires. Supreme court. Hell, 2% of population, but 80% of peach mints. Those witnesses were.... you'll never guess. Why would people not question this or at least have honest discussion. This was a brief duckduckgo search that took no more than 7 mins. I was reading article on how Tyler perry owns the movie studio in Atlanta, and how it’s bigger than paramount and dream works and other studios combined. So I started thinking about other influences in Hollyweird. Hollywood, I didn’t know this, made up of more than one movie studio. I’m ignoramus to this stuff. So I duckduck the owners of all the major studios in Hollywood. Boy oh boy, they’re all yeah you guessed it. To me, it's more interesting than anything. I'm just naturally curious. And it wasn’t till 2018 that I was exposed to this how Jewish Supremacists manipulate normal Israelis and normal Americans, and that would explain why America is Israel’s ho. Even that tho, the America is Israel’s biatch thing, I still don’t fully understand the foreign policy we have with them but I hear that phrase thrown out a lot by people who are known as "no bs" people. The inconsistency in the Jewish proportion of heavy hitter business people is fascinating. It really is. I’m still a shit and still learning when it comes to this and our ties with Israel. Over last few weeks I’ve been thinking about religions and how there’s really only three major ones, all with some things in common in their stories but with one major commonality, the holy land: I don’t think any of the religions got it right, something could have happened x amount of years ago in my opinion and the religions are essentially people’s versions of the story, most inconsistencies with a few similarities. How would we know. We wouldn't. Could very well be like a game of telephone. I could be wrong though, it could be something else but as I get older my belief in God grows, and idek how to pray to it or what to read about because I don’t think anyone’s got it right. And I'm a Catholic and believe in God. When your team runs the award-giving committee, you tend to win a lot of awards. That said, I have a lot of respect and admiration for the Jewish team. They've got an 'us-against'-the-world' thing going that encourages them work together and achieve some pretty cool things. Unfortunately, 'Us-against-the-world' also implies you can treat everyone who isn't on your team as an enemy combatant. It's this embattled attitude that generates a kind of ruthless, unsympathetic attitude toward players on the other team. And they are FIRST to call out any other group that adopts same strategy. It blows my mind how many people fail to understand this is a MACRO evolutionary strategy for them and they wish to slowly breed out and exile out races they don't like etc. Using Jewish label as a front. Yep, they even gave the White Helmets a Nobel Peace Prize. That shows the level of propaganda they are able to perpetuate against the American people through their mass media apparatus. Tons of Overwhelming Evidence That Israel Supports !slamic Terrorist Groups in Syria. You never hear about the regular, everyday Jews and it's shameful. I obviously know and talk to poor Jewish peeps, but it’s a thing, it’s such a thing to the point that it’s a stereotype. While stereotypes can be offensive or seem irrational because they cast a wide generalization on a large group of people, they exist for a reason and stick around for the same, so they must be true on some level. Not all catholic priests diddle. I went to 2 years of communion classes as boy at a catholic church with other kids and the priests were awesome. That doesn’t take away from the fact that a shitload of kids did get touched and molested by priests on such a large scale that the Vatican was aware. And I have no problem admitting Catholic Church one of most corrupt organizations in world and is used to manipulate masses. Not all Jews are bad or are out to take out America or care to gain influence through high ranking positions. It's all just a game. But we're the ones that suffer and get manipulated. Literally every Jewish person I've befriended, are normal, ethical people who care about living life through what their religion seems just. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that Jewish people, both male and female hold lots of highly influential and esteem positions in America, a country mostly made up of Christians when it comes to religious demographic, and these positions are dominated by Jewish people at an alarming inconsistent rate. Try reversing role and doing that shite in Israel. They'll kick you out so fast your head will be spinning. I watched interview one time with David Ben Gurion and the interviewer asked the former prime minister about Israel's nuclear program. (Israel has never admitted to having nukes, though there's lot of anecdotal evidence saying they do have nukes...but no country has inspected Israel's program since JFK. JFK was very suspect of state of Israel. So interviewer asks DBG if Israel has nukes and he replies, "We have enemies". So that's the situation. If you see the rest of the world as an enemy, you can do anything, because, it's for your survival. The truth is simply pointing out facts made from observations in data causes lots of childish triggering and weird deflection on this subject because of the deep history. Pointing out the inconsistency in that blacks make up 13-15% of the US population but over 70% of the prison population shouldn’t cause uproar or anger but rather curiosity and request of answers. Most videos of police officers will have you believe most cops use excessive force and that there is war going on between inner city black people and white pool ice officers. Total nonsense. Obviously not all blacks are criminals, but something’s fishy there. For a fact a lot of black people in prison did something wrong that led directly to their incarceration but the numbers simply hint at some sort of fuckery afoot, that leads to people asking questions. Doesn’t take a five minute duckduckgo search to realize how many blacks are doing hard time for ridiculous non violent drug offenses. Same thing goes for the cops. One of most stressful jobs ever, all day people are lying to you, when you show up to a situation it typically doesn’t mean something great is happening, pulling people over to give them tickets must feel like a shitty thing to do when a quota is set by dept. most are good at their job. It’s the few who we see in videos that show a lack of training and or skill under stressful situations. And same goes for this except when these observations are made immediate malfunction cognitive dissonance ensues. The difference with the outrage is they have a decent influence on so many sectors of this country, you can literally be black balled for life from anything. The collective identity makes sure that you think in terms of Group first and prior to anything else. On top of this, Judaism actively teaches infiltration of positions of power, politics, msm, and so on simply in order to better their chances at survival by group based nepotism. Imo the narratives have been twisted by the winners. This where the whole “history is written by the winners” phrase comes in. You have a full understanding of just how powerful the influence is when it comes to people just simply speaking about, or asking genuine questions etc.

Wyatt @SayWhenLA

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#ethnicity #fiction #Group #Ideas #Lies #Minds #Propaganda #Social #Structure #Truth #victim

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