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spacialsojourn · 3 years

Text

First Contact

------------Show Pesterlog ------------

New Message from: grimauxiliatrix

GA: Hello GA: My Apologies For Contacting You Seemingly Out Of The Proverbial Blue GA: But I Noticed That Your Username Is Quite Similar To One That A Friend Of Mine Used To Have GA: It May Just Be A Coincidence However On The Off Chance That You Might Know Her GA: Are You At All Familiar With The Name Vriska Serket GA: If Not Then I Apologize For Taking Up Your Time GA: This Is Just The First Time I Have Had Access To Any Sort Of Electronic Communication In A Couple Of Sweeps GA: Though If You Are Not Familiar With The Name Vriska Then I Suppose The Term Sweep Is Likewise Meaningless To You GA: Suffice To Say That It Has Been Quite A While Since I Was Last Able To Even Attempt A Search For The Individual I Am Seeking In An Online Platform GA: And It Is Either Very Fortuitous GA: Or Else Very Coincidental GA: I Personally Am Expecting The Latter But Hoping For The Former AG: Oh wow AG: I wasn't expecting any8ody to ever message this account ag8in. I haven't gotten a message here since AG: Wow, fuck, years ago at this point AG: Kan???????? AG: Are you here??????? AG: Are you Human???????? GA: You Will Have To Define What You Mean By Here GA: But Yes I Am Human

AG: Earth.

GA: I Have Been For Approximately Two Sweeps Now

AG: I mean that already answers my question and I feel like that was pretty o8vious in the context

GA: Possibly

AG: 8ut fuck, 4 years???????? AG: Where are you? Are you s8fe? AG: I mean o8viously you're not dead otherwise we wouldn't 8e having this convers8tion. AG: I've never 8een happier to see your prissy quirk in my entire fucking life this is am8zing

GA: I Am Still Trying To Reconcile Your Presence With The Wasteland Landscape I Have Been Trekking Through For What Feels Like Ages GA: But All Things Considered I Am Doing About As Well As One Can Be On An Alien Planet In A Body Not Ones Own GA: You Are Correct However GA: I Am Not Dead GA: Anymore GA: But I Was For A Short While GA: It Sucked Just As Much As The Last Time It Happened GA: Though It Was Much Slower This Time GA: So It May Have Actually Been Worse In Retrospect GA: And My Quirk Is Not Prissy

AG: Yeah the w8stelands fucking suck AG: Do you need assistance? I don't even know where the fuck you are 8ut I can send like........ AG: A caravan or something out to come get you. 8ring you 8ack to my Mansion and get you out of the fucking dust AG: Terezi's here. Sollux, too. AG: No8ody else has come forward yet 8ut that doesn't mean they're not kicking a8out somefucking where AG: Did SkaiaNet respawn you? AG: And yeah, it is Kan. It's shockingly prim and proper for a mid-spectrum j8de8lood 8ut that's the least important thing we're talking a8out so try to st8y on topic, thanks

GA: It Is Not Prissy GA: Especially As None Of Us Can Be Considered Any Sort Of Caste On The Hemospectrum Anymore GA: Though I Must Confess To Being Surprised And Not At All Shocked That You Are Living In A Mansion GA: Again GA: Did This One Come With A Gigantic Spider Monster As Well GA: GA: But No GA: Skaianet Did Not Revive Me GA: If Anything GA: They Were The Spark That Caused My Death GA: I Am Still Not Sure How I Managed To Revive GA: All I Do Know Is That I Am Some Sort Of Human Equivalent To Rainbow Drinkers GA: But I Am Not Sure If I Qualify To Be A Vampire As I Can Still Walk About In The Sunlight GA: I Do Not Know Where I Am Either If You Were To Try And Send Someone To Guide Me To You GA: The Closest Thing I Can Figure Out Is That I Am Somewhere That Is Yet More Desert GA: It Almost Makes Me Feel Hivesick For Alternia GA: Almost

AG: All Rust8loods all the w8y down 8a8ey AG: I keep w8ing for some8ody like Eridan or may8e even the 8atterwitch herself to come through AG: and just end up shitting a fucking cluck8east at 8eing stripped of their no8ility AG: It'll 8e hilarious when it happens AG: Oh my fucking god AG: Of course you'd 8e a vampire AG: That's hilarious. I mean, not the having to die to 8ecome one part AG: 8ut that the Earth recali8r8ion just went 'you know what? this ones a vampire' AG: Regardless, there's no point in arguing 8ecause your quirk is just inherently prissy AG: and I'm not the only person who thinks that AG: AND there's more important shit to talk a8out so I don't know why that's shoving a stick so far up your ass ::::// AG: Almost everywhere is desert. You're somewhere with internet though and that narrows things down AG: If we can't use landmarks to try and figure it out, I'll message Sol and get his ass on it AG: Oh AG: Also AG: I go 8y 'Spin' now

GA: I Will Admit That You Mentioning The Idea Of The Condesce Herself Coming Here And Finding Herself Reduced To A Red Blooded Human Has Made Me Smile For The First Time In What Feels Like A Perigree GA: Your Joy At My Vampiric Status Is Not As Endearing However GA: I Will Stand By My Statement That My Quirk Is Not Prissy GA: Your Quirk Is Simply Too Loose And Lax With Rules For Clear Communication GA: As For Why It Is Jamming A Proverbial Arboreal Rod Up My Waste Chute I GA: GA: Admittedly Do Not Know Why I Am Getting So Defensive About It GA: It Just Feels Like I Have Not Had A Proper Moment To Rest Since I Revived GA: And I Am So Tired Vriska GA: I Am Tired And Angry And I Want To Just Find Someplace That Will Not See Me Run Out Of Whatever Settlement I Find As Soon As They Even Begin To Suspect That I Am Who I Am GA: So Forgive Me For Being Defensive Of Something That Makes Me Feel A Little Less Like Some Kind Of Unwanted Monster GA: I Would Think That Of Everyone In Our Old Friendship Circle You Would Be Able To Understand That Desire GA: GA: GA: Spin GA: GA: Why Did You Change Your Name To Spin GA: I Always Thought That You Had A Lovely Name With Vriska

AG: I'll l8y off of it AG: And nahhhhhhhh I've had to expl8in my quirk a8out a dozen times to people who don't know why I type like I do AG: It's pretty simple, hardly a 8arrier, 8ut then you've got Miss Crisp Annunci8ion over here AG: 8ut whatever, it's fine, it's honestly the least offensive quirk that exists on Earth right now AG: No repl8cements, no shorthands, you get what you see. Refreshing since Sol is using ii's, 2's, and 0's which looks like hell AG: Humans fucking suck AG: Especially Humans who never experienced the G8me at all AG: Fuck them, 8unch of useless NPCs out here 8eing ******** and passing judgement they don't have the right to fucking pass AG: Let me come get you. If I can find where you are, you can have the fucking presidential suite to chill out in AG: I've got a good infrastructure here, there's electricity and running water AG: We've got our own water treatment plant for the mansion itself, as well as another couple for the rest of L8dy's country AG: We've got food, and shelter, we've got fa8ric8ion 8uildings and shit AG: You'll 8e s8fe here. Away from SkaiaNet AG: Spin just....... fits 8etter, I guess. I've met a lot of my altern8s and I don't really want to associ8 with them AG: They all fucking suck lm8o

GA: I Had Nearly Forgotten How Much Of A Pan-Ache I Would Get From Reading Too Many Of Solluxes Messages In A Row GA: GA: GA: GA: GA: I Cannot Tell If This Is You Trying To Hype Up An Otherwise Mediocre Settlement That You Have A Minor Role Of Authority In GA: Or If You Actually Have A Mansion With All Those Amenities And Are Sincere In Wanting To Share Them With Me GA: If It Is The Latter Then I Cannot Guarantee How I Will React GA: But I Will Take You Up On Your Offer GA: Even If It Is Not As Advanced As You Are Claiming GA: If Only Half Of It Is True Then That Is Still Far Better Than I Have Been Able To Gain Access To Since I Arrived On This Planet GA: GA: And As Hard A Time As Myself Or Others Might Give You For Some Of Your Ethical Choices Vriska GA: You Should Not Be So Hard On Yourself GA: Not Even If It Is Not Technically You GA: All Alternates Are Shadows Of Ourselves And Who We Could Have Been Or Could Yet Be GA: We Have Been Getting The Shit Kicked Out Of Us Since We Picked Up That Accursed Game GA: Do Not Do SGRUBs Job For It Now That We Have Finally Escaped Its Grasp

AG: No AG: Kan AG: You don't understand AG: I am the QUEEN of L8dy's Country, Nevada. AG: It's a huge settlement with 8arric8ded walls, I think it was last year or the year 8efore we got the power grid 8ack up AG: It's funded 8y L8dy's Mansion, my live-in headquarters which also dou8les as a fucking kickass 8itching casino AG: We have a8out 20,000-40,000 people living here as permanent residents and more who come and go AG: There's tr8de, there's medicull staff, there's textile plants and industrial gardens AG: We have a standardized 8arter system AG: I've done SO MUCH p8perslogging and pulling myself up from my fucking 8ootstraps AG: I'm not 'hyping up a mediocre settlement' AG: You have to literally get into a vehicle to drive from L8dy's Mansion to the 8order walls 8ecause my territory is so large AG: We are one of the 8iggest non-aligned Encampments in the western hemisphere AG: I'm........ AG: I'm 8uilding an army, Kan. This pl8ce is fucking Huge.

GA: Vriska GA: Why Are You Building An Army GA: Did We Not All Go Through This Sort Of Thing Once Before GA: Do You Really Need To Seek Out Conflict Again So Soon

AG: SkaiaNet needs to 8e 8rought down AG: People are suffering 8ecause they hold ALL the wealth and ALL the resources AG: I'm not just going to stand 8y and let them 8ully every8ody into su8mission while the planet dies AG: and they MORE than have the capa8ilities to m8ke life more comforta8le AG: Yes I've 8uilt an army 8efore, that's why I'm the perfect person for this jo8 AG: I have experience with this shit AG: SkaiaNet has no IDEA what kind of enemy it's m8de in me AG: Also AG: My n8me is Spin. AG: I've triangul8ed your loc8ion. AG: Do you want me to come get you or no?

GA: GA: GA:

AG: Yes or no?

GA: I Am Thinking GA: GA: GA: Will It Be You Who Picks Me Up GA: Or Some Random Underling Of Yours

AG: If you want me to m8ke the trip personally, I can t8ke a 8r8k AG: L8dy's Country won't fall apart without me for a d8y

GA: No GA: No That Will Be Fine GA: I Am Not Entirely Sure That I Want To See You GA: Until I Have Had A Chance To Clean Up

AG: God even in the f8ce of a post-apocalyptic w8steland you're still so prim lmf8o AG: I'll send my personal guard. His n8me's Seipher, I'd trust him with my life. AG: Are you in a s8fe pl8ce to 8unker down? You're a8out 7 hours out from where we're at

GA: Vri GA: GA: Spin GA: I Have Been Walking On My Own Through Swamps GA: Forests GA: Rivers And Open Fields Full Of Mud And Sadness GA: I Have Had To Bathe In Whatever Little Flowing Water I Could Find GA: And Do Not Even Get Me Started On Things Like My Clothes GA: Or All The Extra Features That Are Included With Being A Human In The Way Of Hygiene GA: Forgive Me If I Want A Moment Or Two To Myself Before I See Someone I Care About For The First Time In Almost Two Entire Sweeps GA: So That I Can Look And Smell Presentable GA: Rather Than Looking Like I Am Some Sort Of Bog Person And Smelling Like A Waterlogged Carcass

AG: You care a8out me? AG: AG: AG: lmf8oooooooo could you imagine, I had the strongest urge to send that and then NOTHING until my driver arrives there AG: God that would’ve 8een soooooooo funny AG: Yeah roughing it in the wilderness is fucking awful, I’ll have Seipher and K8 get you set up in your suite after you arrive and then you can just lmk when you’re ready and we’ll have dinner and a drink or something AG: I’ll see you then!!!!!!!! ::::)

——arachnidsGrip [AG] ceased Trolling grimAuxilitrix [GA]——

GA: GA: GA: GA: But I Did Not Want To Be Done Talking With You GA: GA: ---grimauxiliatrix [GA] disconnected---

@betterthan777 @g4llowsc4l1br4t1ng @g0iinggh02t

#plot post #first post #chatlog

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exdeputysonso-archive · 4 years

Note

I made a list of some of my favorite Ray moments, in no particular order, in the middle of my LWS-watching. Y’know, to keep my spirits high. Now I’ll share that list with you (and then I promise I’ll wait a while before sending any ridiculously long asks again).

*Ahem*

- Everything from “Technically speaking, Brad ...” to “Your dad’s a truck driver?” because I love how they deliver those lines.

- “Brad ... is that a guardrail on the side of the road?” for the same reason as above.

- His smile when the wind messes up the tent.

- Singing “Tainted Love” (bonus points for being a group effort).

- “He was born a Hebrew and remains a practicing Christ killer.”

- Tuck, untuck shirt.

- His “reasons for joining” rant.

- His face looking pretty in the setting sun.

- “Don’t worry about it, buddy, I know where we’re going.”

- Coining the phrase “pussy infrastructure”.

- Singing “Teenage Dirtbag”, especially when he really belts those few notes like the rockstar he is (bonus points for being another group effort + “Thank you, Sergeant”).

- “Peace sucks a hairy asshole, Freddie; war is the motherfucking answer”, complete with hand gestures.

- Going from sleeping in his infinity scarf to “Oooh, I’m up” in 9 seconds (yes, I counted).

- “No more road.”

- His “maybe our blouses aren’t green” rant.

- “Old school R&B” *finger wiggling*

- His semi-crazed grin after he gives Reporter snus that first time.

- “Now remember, James, once you fire a bullet you can’t take it back.”

- Actually, everything he says during the bridge mission. (Bonus points for being a really great scene overall + for Walt getting to say several nice lines in that sweet accent.)

- The “no sitrep as to J.Lo’s status” frown.

- Tiny jog to find out what Reporter wrote for Hustler.

- Singing “I-Feel-Like-I'm-Fixin'-to-Die Rag” (PJ saw ASkars’ cock, y’all).

- His “why would the Iraqis want 400lbs of C-4” rant.

- Don’t those dumb motherfuckers realize they’re shooting at marines?!

- Kevlar off, aviators on.

- “Religion is gay.”

- Only technically a Ray moment: Brad’s voice cracking as he tries to save Juggs from Ray’s grubby little hands.

- Dishonorable mention: breaking my heart when he cries >:| (jk, I love that, too).

/Foolhardy

This list is amazing, thank you for sharing! Every Ray moment is gold to me, I feel like I’d have a hard time narrowing down favorite moments myself. I love every time he opens his mouth, but I also love all the other little moments you highlighted like his smile when the wind messes up the tent, sleeping in his infinity scarf, and his little jog just to name a few. God I love Ray Person so much. 💕💕💕

#mel answers #ask #foolhardy anon #anonymous

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aesirfalling · 4 years

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From your writing asks: #1, 8, 10, 26, and 28 :) I wasn't sure if you had wanted me to answer any specific ones myself, but since it was an ask I wanted to respond properly~

I definitely wanted you to answer some specific ones yourself :^)

What themes would you like to write about that you feel don’t get explored very often?

I think this is obvious to everyone who’s read my more recent fics (so like... my fics from 2016 onwards?), but I like to write “realistically,” especially in regards to joys and pain. When people write about angst things like breakups and depression and physical illnesses they are sometimes hesitant (rightfully or understandably so, in many cases) to really get into the nitty gritty, and in many cases, uglier parts of them, but like, they’re a part of life and people in our lives don’t have a good time (or even many good moments at all) when these kinds of things happen to them. Those moments are still important, though, and I personally feel like embracing the dark aspects of those things makes getting through them in the end more emotionally and existentially powerful? If that makes sense. I’m definitely still wrestling with, like, the extent to which I should write such things (esp. since like, in most cases, fic readers are not reading your fic to suffer), but I think my underlying sentiment as a writer is to examine/meet feelings and life unflinchingly and with some kind of grace.

(I’ll get to the joys eventually. I swear. I have that draft of the second chapter of Lost and Found in my Google Drive. There’s Radiance and the mood in that, too. I just don’t like to write too much preemptive joy.)

The other thing I want to bring up as well is a kind of like... infrastructural realism? Or is it like, socioeconomic, worldly things? Like we’ve talked about this as well RE: how I’m covering Hope in my fics and how you worldbuild a lot around missions and such in yours. I think this is mostly a fic thing since to do this well requires a longer fic with a lot of forethought, and most people don’t have time for that. And honestly most people don’t like Hope for the structural engineering work he put into building new planets either

Favorite dialogue in your wip? (If asked more than once, respond with a new piece each time)

Oh man this interlude is going to be CHOKE FULL of dialogue that will kill me and most of them haven’t even been written yet

But the things that I’ve already put down on my dump file are like all dialogue

Here I just wrote up this thing

Snow: Go on then. Tell me that you don’t miss the stars. Tell me that you are okay with just sitting here day by day, pretending that you don’t know anything, pretending that you don’t have regrets and wants. Tell me that you don’t care if I won’t invite you to the wedding with Serah, if Light finds another man, or if some orphanage is burning on the other side of town. Tell me -

Hope: I don’t think you understand. I never needed anyone to motivate me.

Hope: I needed someone to stop me.

What scene was the most fun to write for you and why?

Hmm... we might have to establish a definition for ‘fun’ :P

I think in more recent memory, I’ve had the most fun writing the dialogue between Hope and E1 in the Intermission, because I relish all opportunities to write him (especially in FWWCH where I’m usually banned from writing in his POV) and writing two of him is just double the fun. I also adore all occasions where introspective idiots have to talk to other versions of themselves because it’s kind of like. The inevitable 404 error when they realize they are actually empathizing with themselves is tearjerker and heartwarming central.

What do you feel like you need to work on as a growing writer? How can you improve?

Oh lordy there are so many things. Lemme just list a few off the top of my head

1) Linguistic ability: There is definitely a part of me that is sad about the fact that leaving my home country at the age of 11 has left me in a place where I am kind of bilingual but kind of... not really “Native” in either. Like, I have this lingering feeling that I’ll never get to the level of a “Native” English speaker/writer, and I definitely hit like language ability walls all the time when I write - things wouldn’t feel naturally lyrical, I’d run out of words, I wouldn’t know how to describe something the way it should be described, the sentence structure variety is pitiful, etc. I think it’s especially apparent when you’re writing a long fic, where like you have to deal with the same things over and over (e.g. writing Hope cooking, or how Lightning physically perceives him, etc) and there’s more of a limit on where natural inspiration can take you. I should read more good prose (since that’s apparently how I get better at English) but, ugh, effort.

2) Characterization: how many times have I whined about how much I suck at writing Lightning lmaooooooo I think the general thing is like, everyone is decent at writing someone they personally relate to, but we struggle when we try to write outside of our comfort zone. Lightning is definitely the poster child of “character unlike me that I’m trying to get a hold of,” but I think I struggled even more trying to write Fang, and I’d probably struggle trying to write someone like Cid seriously. I think a large part of the struggle is trying to morph yourself into that character (or, like, dissociating from yourself and just... “becoming” that character depending on how you view writing meta??) since like, just understanding someone is not enough. Just understanding someone won’t let you write convincing dialogue where they talk and move around the way they usually do. You have to like, become them and that’s really hard when you have a strong writer’s ego (I know, shocking, coming from me.)

3) Worldbuilding: wtf am I even doing with Hope’s White Lotus thing lmaoooooo anyway a world could always be more interesting, consistent, realistic, nuanced etc. And not necessarily through more word count on the worldbuilding-y stuff. I think it’s more about understanding the factors driving the world than anything else. Like what the resources are, who has power/agency, how things are done (e.g., in our world, decisions are mostly made by individual nation states, although large corporate entities often have immense political influence). AND THEN JUST LIKE CHARACTERS THERE’S THE STRUGGLE WITH EXECUTING THEM - like just because I understand there are rich oligarchs behind things doesn’t mean I’m good at writing the Great Gatsby. I dunno, I have a perpetual sense of imposter syndrome when I try to understand and write things about the world, regardless of whether or not the world is real. I feel like a large part of this goes back to the fact that I’m still only in my 20s and haven’t seen much of the ‘real world’ as they say, although I guess I’m technically still way ahead of most fic writers.

4) General writer’s attitude: this influences themes and the heart of one’s writing. When I say that I care a lot about the grace and dignity of my narratives and my characters, it ties back into this - I want to tell human stories, and I want to tell stories that reflect on our struggles and our faith despite said struggles. It’s the kind of lens that I filter all my words through and impacts every word I write. The obvious problem, then, is that my writing’s only ever going to be as perceptive or sympathetic as I am, and that’s something that I can and should always work on. Am I too obsessed with tragedy? Am I honestly far better at posing questions than providing solutions, even when I highly value solutions? How do I become the kind of writer and person that I want to be without driving myself insane or losing touch with the people that I want my writing to speak to?

5) Discipline: Am I ever going to finish FWWCH (or H&L or any of my other WIPs lmao)? Stay tuned.

I think a lot of my self-doubt as a writer comes from just how much I know I can improve on tbh

Do you need background noise to write? If so, what do you listen to?

I wouldn’t say I work with “background noise” - I work with mood-appropriate playlists (did you know I’ve been gratuitously naming all my fic chapters after songs?), or you know, the good ole 2 o’clock cosmic silence. It’s pretty interesting to me actually, since I also have an engineering degree and like... I need silence when I’m trying to logick things like math or the correct wording for a formal writing thing (e.g. a grant or policy proposal). So my creative hemisphere wants stimulation while my mechanical brain wants silence. Figures.

#thank you for sending these in ;_;#writing tag #long post

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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907

Are you one of those lucky people to own a walk-in closet? lol lucky people. No I don’t have one of those. Is there a random object you own that has a huge personal significance? Well it’s more significant today because we had our virtual graduation this morning... so I’ll go with my graduation sash. Ever since I started university I’ve always wanted to wear my own sash in a physical ceremony so again, it sucks that our batch got affected by the pandemic. Do you use Google? For just about everything, yeah. Would you like to go swimming right now? That would be soooooo so nice. I’ve been going through old vacation photos and I really miss the beach. Can you play electric guitar? Nope.

Do you have an HDTV? My parents do. When was the last time you drank something through a straw? Around a month ago when my dad bought milk teas for me and my sister. Have you ever tried to teach yourself a different language? I didn’t teach myself per se, but I have tried my hand learning Spanish on Duolingo several times. It always comes in phases – I get passionate about learning and use the app for weeks, then it kinda burns out after a while. Right now I haven’t used it since I got sick in May. How long was your last phone call? A little longer than an hour, I think. It was pure silence though; we just wanted to hear each other’s surroundings. Do you need to repaint your nails? No, I never get it painted. Has there ever been a horoscope that came true for you? Psh. Are you a fan of industrial metal? Holy shit I feel so stupid right now. I thought this was referring to a literal kind of metal and I thought, that is such an odd thing to be a fan of...Google quickly taught me that it is in fact NOT a material for building infrastructure jdsskfjskf. Anyway, no I am not a fan. Are you one of those people who chew two pieces of gum, not one? Yeah, occasionally. I don’t like how one piece loses flavor all too quickly so I go ahead and pop two in. Do you have a wall calendar? Not since 2008. We only had a wall calendar in our old house; when we moved here we started to rely on digital clocks and our phones to tell the time. Have you ever taken the pictures from a calendar and used them as posters? I haven’t had a calendar like that, so no. I’ve done this with magazines though. Can you handle the cold? Hahaha no, I can’t. I was already in so much pain in 20ºC weather in Sagada, and I fared much worse in 12ºC Japan weather. I would still pick living in a colder climate in a heartbeat over a tropical one, though. Have you ever been to Canada? Nope. Do you believe in superstitions? Just one superstition involving my university that doubles as an inside joke, so it’s not like I take it 100% seriously. It’s a generations-old joke that’s impossible to ignore if you’re a student, so I just jumped in. When was the last time you took a taxi somewhere? It was from the airport to back home, but I forgot where we landed from. Bohol I think? Palawan? I don’t even know anymore. It was so inconvenient I begged my dad that we stop using taxis as transportation for our future trips. Would you ever join the army, airforce or navy? No. How old is the person you last kissed? 22. Is there a friend that you can always rely on to get you out of a jam? I don’t think so. When it comes down to it they all have their own different things going on and I can’t just call them whenever and expect them to come to me, and that’s okay. Generally though, I think my most reliable friends are probably Andrew and Angela. What was the most embarassing thing you've had to buy? I’ve never felt embarrassed by anything I had to buy, but it can get a little uncomfortable trying to buy napkins when my dress or pants are already soaked. I get over it quickly though, since menstruations are normal lol. Have you ever tried to balance the light switch between off and on? When I was a kid. I haven’t tried it in a while. Do you believe in ghosts / supernatural occurences? They’re fun to think about, sure, and I do enjoy watching the supernatural episodes of Buzzfeed Unsolved where they go ghost-hunting. I like to think that they somehow exist, but I still also very much maintain my skepticism at all times. Have you ever mistaken a person's gender? I’ve used the wrong pronouns accidentally but I always correct myself and apologize once I’ve noticed my blunder. What was the most expensive thing you've broken? My old iPhones. I’ve also sported a few dents on my car, but I wouldn’t say I broke the car. Has anyone texted you yet today? Not text, but online chat. We had our virtual graduation this morning so my inbox was swamped with congratulatory messages and such. Did you stay calm during the whole swine flu scare? I did, but I mean I was 11 and had no clue how serious it was supposed to be. I remember cheering when they suspended classes for a week because of a local swine flu case, so yep – still ignorant back then. Is there a light on in the room you're currently in? There is, but it isn’t turned on. Are your feet touching the floor? Nope, they’re on the bed. Have you ever been in a car accident? Mild ones, nothing too life-threatening. Do you usually make back-up plans? Yeah man I’m so anxious I always have at least plans A-C lined up in my head and ready to go whenever necessary. Can you focus well in high-stress situations? Usually. Without the aid of mascara, do you have long eyelashes? I do. I get compliments on it all the time too. I didn’t realize it was apparently a nice feature to have until more and more people pointed it out haha. Is there a kind of music you listen to that helps you release your anger? Yeah I have a playlist that’s lined up with all of my favorite loud, angry punk rock music specifically for when I’m pissed off. Are you one of those people who keep their feelings bottled up? I can, particularly whenever I feel like it’s not worth it to blow up. Is one of your friends extremely odd but you love them regardless? Not really. Aya’s pretty weird but I wouldn’t call her extremely odd. Is there anyone you dread going into public with? My mom when she’s mad. Are you a victim of writing run-on sentences? For the most part, I wouldn’t say so. If I write a run-on sentence it’s almost always in an informal setting where I’m more loose with punctuation, like if I’m chatting on IM or writing an answer on here. Still, I try to avoid them and I never do it in a formal situation. Graffiti: an art or an act of vandalism? They can be both. Some people who genuinely just want to fuck around vandalize, like how I’ve seen “Mark <3 Erica” in spray paint on public walls or some similar shit lol. But a lot of graffiti are art as well; many have important messages or symbolisms to say. Do you buy things online? I’ve done it a few times. Not regularly. I like being able to see and touch something before buying it. Are you easily frightened? I definitely am but at the same time I’m really into horror movies and serial killers and a ghost-hunting series? Hahaha it’s weird. I guess I enjoy the thrill that comes with having those interests. Do you have a favorite model? Over the years I’ve loved Elizabeth Jane Bishop, Kiko Mizuhara, Taylor Marie Hill, Gigi Hadid, Bella Hadid, and (controversial pick!) Kendall Jenner. Have you ever watched Titanic? So many times. Honestly, one of my favorites. What's your current facebook display picture of? It’s my official graduation photo wearing my graduation sash! :) I finally changed it last Friday after I got the email saying I’m on the list of graduates. How about your IM display picture? My main IM is my Messenger, which also uses my Facebook photo. Is there anyone whose hair you envy? Gabie’s for one. Hers is really smooth and silky and wavy. Would you act in a movie if it offered a role? If I was going to be a mostly unseen extra in a blockbuster film and still be paid like $600 for it, then I don’t see why I wouldn’t take it. Does speaking in front of people make you nervous? Only if there’s going to be an unscripted aspect to it that’ll make me have to come up with answers on the spot, like miting de avances or thesis defense. If I have a script or even just a general gist of what I want to say, I have no problem improvising and speaking in front of a crowd. Can you read in a moving vehicle or does it make you sick? It makes me sick but it hasn’t stopped me before. Have you ever dated someone who was extremely shy? I’m the extremely shy person... Or have you dated someone who took things too fast? I felt that way with Gab at first when she wanted to have sex like two months after we started dating, though I was scared mainly because it was going to be my first time and I wanted to make sure I was comfortable. Now that I’m a little older, two months seems like a healthy amount of time. Does the idea of driving 220 mph sound exciting to you? Sounds terrifying. It could be fun, but only if we’re in the middle of nowhere where there’s loads of space to go that fast and no chance of crashing. Everyone has a weakness, what's yours? Food. Do you or anyone you know have an account on Deviantart? I had classmates in high school who had accounts but I’m not sure if they still have it, or if Deviantart is even still as active as I knew it to be. Thoughts on the Dunkin Donut commercial that says "America runs on Dunkin'"? It’s a creative slogan but if I was American I wouldn’t want a doughnut place claiming to represent my country. It cute though. Do you bother buying movies on DVD anymore or do you just download them? I watch them on Netflix, which is still technically like buying them since we pay for the subscription anyway. Do you listen to Daughtry? No. Do you get your eyebrows waxed? I don’t. Waxing looks so painful to me. How do you take your coffee? Lots of creamer or milk, a little sugar. I like trying out different coffees, but when I’m simply relaxing I do want my coffee as least bitter as possible. If you have a dog, what breed is it? I have an aspin mix, though we never figured out what Kimi’s other half is. And I also have a beagle. Have you found someone who makes you unconditionally happy? I don’t know if 'unconditionally’ is possible but yes, I do have people who make me very happy. Do you have a friend who always seems to be dying their hair? Not anymore. Jo used to dye her hair like every month though and she must have been able to go through the entire rainbow. She looked sooo good in each of the colors. Would you swap names with a friend? I love all their names but I don’t see why that would be necessary. Do you plan on going to university? I did. I graduated today. Guys who wear muscle shirts, yes or no? Idk man, they can wear whatever they want. Are you a fan of Carrie Underwood? No. I liked some of her singles when I was younger, but I’m not a fan in that I have her albums and know her lesser-known songs. Do you make playlists on iTunes? I used to, when I still used iTunes. I make playlists on Spotify now. Have you ever forgotten someone's birthday? I don’t think so. Are you scared of being left behind? Yessir. I’m super competitive, so I hate the feeling. Do you remember your last dream? No. I’m really bad at remembering them unless they’re nightmares or insanely strange. I do know that I dreamt while we were watching mass earlier on the television though, hahaha. Do you know someone who is an obsessed Star Wars fan? So many people in my circle are. Is politics something you don't care about? No. If there’s anything I give tons of fucks about, it’s that. What's a movie/tvshow/book/series that is way overrated? I’ll go with the first things I thought of...in that order: To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before; Stranger Things (it’s good, but not as good as people hyped it to be); I don’t really read anymore; and what do you mean by series? Just realized I only gave 2 out of 4 answers lol oh well. Do you think Barbie presents an unhealthy image to young girls? I don’t like how its physical features are still unrealistic; but I appreciate their attempts at diversity. I can’t say it was upsetting seeing a Filipino-themed Barbie :) Is there a pet that you desperately want? All I ever wanted were dogs, and now I’ve got two of them. Would you ever get your bellybutton pierced? Nope. Are you musically talented? Hahahahaha Have you ever shot a gun? Not a real one, so no. Athenna’s dad had this practice gun he used for target practice (duh) and I messed with that a few times. Do you have a friend that always changes their mind last second? That’s Gabie. She’s lucky she’s my girlfriend and that I love her, because it’s actually a big pet peeve of mine. Are you not afraid to voice your opinion? Yup. The only time I don’t say it out loud is if it’s unnecessary and if it’s going to be simply disrespectful. An example would be when my uncle offered to make me a carrot cake for my grad gift, and I just said yes because it was already generous enough for him to offer me a free cake when he runs a food business. In reality it’s not my favorite cake at all; it wouldn’t even be in my top 20. Are you one of those people who are always pushing their limits? Yes, I definitely overwork myself to the point of exhaustion and burnout. But I honestly prefer doing things and being busy than sitting around. Is there a word that you will always find humorous? Bubbling. Because Drake and Josh.

Do you frown upon immature people? Typically. Have you ever slipped on ice and hurt yourself? This may have happened to me once or twice when I was still regularly visiting the ice skating rink at the mall. People were always super nice and helped me get up, though. Do you try to have an intimidating impression? I don’t try. Apparently it’s naturally the vibe I give off. Living in the big city or chilling in the country? BIG CITY. Always the big city. I’ve gone to the country/province so many times; I already know what it’s like there. I’ll always prefer a noisy city. No one seems to obey the legal drinking age, do they? Hahahaha a lot seem not to. I know so many high school kids who’ve had a drink before turning 18. Do you like your country's flag? Sure. I like that we can switch up the colors depending on if we’re at war or not. Have you ever made a totally amazing snow fort? I’ve never even seen snow before. Do you use Bounty Paper Towels? No. Are you the one usually behind the camera or the one in the picture? BEHIND If you get married, will you have a traditional wedding? Traditional, yes. Religious, no. Do you feel you’re slowly losing one of your friends? No. But now that I’m no longer in school, I really hope I’ll continue to be friends with my orgmates. I’ll certainly keep in touch as much as I can. If you draw, what's one thing you always have trouble with? Everything about it. Is there someone you know moving away any time soon? No. I do know my friend’s sister had already moved and started her new job in California, but when the pandemic started she had to go back here. This virus is just ruining so many great things for everyone, man... Allergic to anything? Nope. How many cars have you owned? Zero. I drive one; can’t say I own it because my parents bought it. What are you going to do after this? Maybe take another survey.

#survey #surveys

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ngame989 · 5 years

Text

“Été” - TGG SVTFOE Fanfic Collection Ch. 2

Writing: @ngame989

Art: @toxicpsychox (make sure to follow him for bonus pics from the story!)

Editing: @bmc-nightfury, @seddm

Alternate fic links - FFnet, AO3

Summary: Summer is ending soon, and with the end of summer comes change, leaving Jackie Lynn Thomas feeling left behind. Can a certain pair of friends help her figure it out?

Comic Page

Masterpost

See below for the text, hope you enjoy!

“‘Mewni Welcome Soiree’, huh? The Echo Creek I know could never be this fancy, the fusion must already be rubbing off on it. It’s still no Paris, but c’est la vie.” Jackie grinned as her fingers traced the flier, one of many stapled haphazardly over the park, if not the whole town itself. All sorts of events and musical guests were outlined in shiny bold letters and pictures to get the message across as clearly as possible. The sweet laughter behind her was its own kind of music to Jackie’s ears.

Chlóe hopped over the back of the bench they had been sitting on to join her girlfriend’s perusal. “Surely it can’t be that bad?” she cautiously inquired, the French accent making itself especially pronounced when her voice lilted higher. “I’ve had a wonderful time in your city! And even if I don’t count you as part of that, it’s still been pretty fun.” Chlóe leaned into her as the two exchanged cheeky grins before Chlóe picked one of the fliers off the wall of the pavilion for herself. “Don’t be so down, there are some interesting-looking things here. Where else would I get to see The World’s Fattest Opossum on display?”

“Touché. It might be cool. What else have you got for us, Echo Creek?" The girls looked over their fliers, trying to find anything to peak their interest. Chlóe spotted a peculiar name under the "Bands" list.

"Looks like there's a concert, too. Mysterious Sonograms?"

Jackie's mind flew to the mediocre artists of said band. "It's the two guys from the taco stand and an otter… I think. Surprisingly less awful than you'd imagine, but that's a low bar."

"What about Infatuation Incarceration?"

"Oh yeah, that's the spin off band Love Sentence's head backup dancer started after their final breakup. They're… not really worth checking out though, to be honest. All their songs are just the dude angstily crying about how he's better off without them anyway."

Chlóe spotted the last name on the list. "The last act is a performance of… is this spelled correctly?"

Jackie scanned her own flier where Chlóe was looking. "'Faiurly Local'... someone typo’d it, but it's a good tune. Never heard of the cover band though, so I think I'll pass. Why don’t we head downtown instead? We can go scope out some new parkour spots!”

Chlóe stood up straight and softly grabbed Jackie’s shoulder, meeting her eyes with a concerned expression. “Tu vas bien?”

“Je ne sais pas.” Jackie leaned her elbows onto the back of the bench, finding it more comfortable to focus on the orange-purple evening sky than her girlfriend. “I’m just worried, y’know? About me, about us. I’m super glad you were able to get a flight home despite all this crazy stuff going on, don’t get me wrong, but it’s gonna suck without you here. The whole Earthni thing is cool and all, too - well, except for the name - but I’m just not up to celebrating it.” It was a wound that had been eating away at her, at both of them, for the last few days. Where would they go from here? Neither was really sure, and they’d avoided talking about it at all. Heck, it’s not like either didn’t know that it had to happen eventually anyway, Chlóe was only here for summer vacation, but it still crept up on them far too quickly to process.

The park fell silent as bittersweet memories washed over her, amplifying her anxieties. Skate camp, before 9th grade - that guy left early for a family road trip before she ever got a chance to get his name, compliment his nollie technique, and see where it went from there. When Marco had so obviously left half of his heart in a different dimension, it sucked then too, but she knew they’d both be happier apart. And now Chlóe was hopping on a plane and going an entire world away. Jackie had always considered herself pretty adaptable, able to just roll with whatever life tossed at her, so why was this particular situation affecting her so much more?

She were interrupted by a soft, fleeting kiss on her cheek and a soothing chestnut gaze as Chlóe took her hand. “Let’s at least get some food first. I heard there’s a stand with hot sauce so spicy that they pay you for it. Vaut le voyage, non?” Jackie shrunk into herself a bit and nodded in what she hoped was a convincing affirmation before strapping on her skateboard helmet, and the pair took off through the park.

Earthni was pretty cool, Jackie had to admit. It was as if some guiding hand lovingly melded them together like clay, taking care to keep all the essential functionality. All the moons were placed in the sky in such a way that the net effect on the tides had remained unchanged in the week since the event, cities and towns and even individual buildings still retained their infrastructure, and the sky had a radiant beauty at all hours of the day and night. Come to think of it, from what she’d gathered secondhand, Mewni did seem eerily similar to Earth in a lot of ways; it was as if there was some special connection that allowed them to flow so harmoniously into one another.

Her muted awe was finally morphed into a much more visceral shock, however, by a more metaphorical union of the dimensions that caught her eye as they skated past the concert. She motioned for Chlóe to stop as she dismounted without looking away from the sight in front of them: Star Butterfly and Marco Diaz just dancing their hearts out to some mediocre pop cover like it was a chart topper sweeping the nation - OK, maybe it technically was one since all the monsters and Mewmans were absolutely enraptured by it. To any other observer, there wasn’t even necessarily anything special about what she was seeing - Chlóe’s perplexity was proof of that - but Jackie knew. Maybe what she had with Marco was never the most serious thing in the world, but she knew him well enough to understand the way he looked at Star as they twirled each other and grooved to the beat. Even Star accidentally tripping him and toppling the pair into a heap on the ground didn’t curb their abundant joy. Jackie quickly pulled out her phone and snapped a picture after they’d gotten back on their feet; she couldn’t help but capture the scene.

No sooner had she lowered the phone than Star dipped Marco down and gave him a quick peck on the lips; what phased Jackie far more was that Marco took it entirely in stride. During their time dating, they could barely even hold hands without him becoming a flustered mess. Heck, even just a few weeks ago he was a nervous wreck over their history. It was already obvious what - or who - had enacted such a change, but Jackie still wanted a closer look.

She signaled Chlóe to stay put and dove into the fairly sizable crowd to find a stealthy route to them. Ducking and weaving through the mingling humans and monsters, she found an open space only a few feet from them. Almost… almost… now! Jackie pounced forward, hoping to catch them off-guard, but mistimed it and collided with Marco right as Star spun him out of her embrace. He squealed at the impact and virtually launched himself backwards, sending Star to the ground in a fit of uproarious laughter. “Oh, Jackie, it’s you!” he said, eyes still wide from the shock.

“Jackie? Hi!” Star jumped up and forward to hug her, unconsciously lifting her in the air; that girl really didn’t know her own strength, did she? “How’s it going?”

“I’d rather ask you two that question,” she replied expectantly as she was set back on the ground. Star and Marco grinned and intertwined their fingers with far less hesitation than she would have expected. Well, there was the direct confirmation she sought. “Let me guess, you two had something to do with the whole Cleaving thing.”

Marco rubbed the back of his neck and glanced down at the ground sheepishly. “It’s a bit of a long story, but, uh, yeah, after-” His attention quickly snapped back to Jackie in a panic. “Oh man, your skateboard! And helmet! I’m so sorry Jackie, I just left it at the portal and then Star was there and I didn’t even think to grab it-”

“Dude, it’s fine, my uncle works for the company, remember? I care way more about hearing this story of yours, but that can wait. I should probably, uh, get back to my girlfriend and let you get back to yours.” As soon as the words left her mouth, the previous anxiety crept back in. She tried to shove it away with a casual wink, but her momentary wince didn’t go unnoticed. As she was walking away, she glanced back over her shoulder. “Well, I’m off to get food, see you guys later,” she said with an uneasy cheeriness..

Marco and Star exchanged a quick glance before they hustled over, the boy putting a hand on Jackie’s shoulder. “Hey, is everything OK? I think I’ve seen you not be totally chill, like, one time ever…”

“Eh, could be better.” A brief moment of silence ensued as she centered herself; of the things she’d taken away from her relationship with Marco, being able to admit that stuck with her most. “Chlóe’s heading back home soon and I’m just pretty bummed, you know?”

He took a moment before responding carefully. “Do you two want to join us? We were going to eat soon, too. I’m pretty sure I brought more than enough nachos for four people,” he nodded in the direction of a picnic basket behind him and chuckled. “It’s kind of our first date, or, um, our first ‘official’ one, anyway. I might have gone a bit overboard.”

“Classic Diaz,” Jackie sniggered. Star rolled her eyes affectionately while nestling into his side and wrapping herself around his arm.

“Don’t worry about it, guys, seriously. I don’t want to intrude, you two have probably dealt with enough heavy stuff lately.”

“Pfft, don’t worry about that We’d love to hang out with you guys! It could be, like, a casual double date or something!” Star chimed in while Marco casually leaned his head against hers.

“If you’re up for it,” Marco hastily added on.

Maybe this was what she needed. She’d spent enough time inside her own head lately that she wasn’t sure she’d be able to enjoy time with Chlóe unless something dragged the fun right out of her, and there wasn’t anyone better at that than these two. “Sounds like fun, I’ll go ask her. Given the legends I’ve heard about Marco’s nachos, I don’t think she’ll need too much convincing, though.”

***

“OK, wait, dude, back up a second. Janna hypnotized you to make you hate nachos? I don’t know if I can associate with someone who’d deprive someone else the joy of Mexican cuisine,” Jackie mock-sternly asked between bites. An assortment of dips and toppings in insulated containers were spread between the four teenagers as she reached over to restock her plate. Chlóe sat beside her with her legs out to the side, enjoying the dinner more than anyone. Echo Creek’s Mexican restaurants clearly didn’t stack up to this, and Jackie’s heart warmed at the sight as much as her queso heated her throat.

“Yeah, but she undid it just a few days ago. Did I mention that she called me her friend?”

“Are you guys sure she’s OK?”

“That’s what I said, Jackie!” Star mumbled out between cheeks comically overstuffed with chips.

“We just saw her yesterday, she’s fine. Well, whatever ‘fine’ is for Janna, anyway. She was happy we were together because it meant, and I quote, ‘so many more ways to blackmail’,” Marco groaned and plopped backwards onto the grass, rubbing his temple in frustration.

Star efficiently scooped up the last of the salsa on her plate with one last chip. “Anyway, I guess that’s the whole story. Weird how this feels normal in comparison.” She motioned down to the rest of the town from their vantage point on top of the hill, where they could see a monster family - easily a few stories tall - having a picnic of their own at least a mile away. Humans were lined up for blocks trying out some Mewni corn stalls that had sprung up around town, and Mewmans for their part had been putting almost every Earth shop at maximum capacity nonstop trying to experience their new world’s culture as well.

“Thank you for dinner, Marco and Star. It’s different having Mexican food that isn’t spicy pain, but I love the flavors, c'était magnifique.”

Jackie leaned back on her hands, thoroughly satisfied from the meal. “Yeah, Diaz, these lived up to the hype. Star’s a lucky girl.”

Star giggled as she helped a blushing Marco upright. The pair began to put away the empty containers into the basket when Star peeked inside with a quizzical expression. “Marco, what the heck is this thing?” She shoved one arm inside, clearly trying to grip something large. Her tongue hung out as she shook the whole basket until a large red disk came out.

“Star, dude, do you not know what a frisbee is?”

She immediately recoiled and flung the disk to the ground, but Marco quickly snagged it before it could roll away. “Sorry, thought you said freezbee. Their stings give you hypothermia. I wonder if they made it to Earthni…” All four teens collectively shuddered at the thought.

“Nah, it’s a disk you can throw at people. Back at skate camp, we had this game where everyone would be in the bowl and you’d have to throw and catch it while in the air. Bonus points for any fancy tricks you pulled off, it was totally sweet. But it’s still fun without the boards, wanna try?” Star nodded at Marco, who flicked the disk to her with a bit of a wobble in its flight. She planted her feet with a burning resolve, her tongue hanging out a bit in concentration. When the disk finally drew near, she jumped and plucked it from the air, whipping it in a frenzied overhead toss aimed directly at Chlóe, who gasped and nimbly pivoted to the side to avoid it, their eyes all bugging out of their heads when they noticed the massive dent in the earth left in the frisbee’s wake.

“I win at frisbee!”

The sun continued its trek towards the horizon as the four tossed the disk around, chatting and laughing and occasionally wiping out on the grass. Marco had shaken off the rust and Star was getting the hang of it once it was properly explained to her, but Jackie still found herself able to go into autopilot and still keep pace. She was going to miss moments like this, just casually enjoying the company of her girlfriend, after over half a year of being together almost all the time. Was this how Marco had felt that summer? She’d already known as much at the time, but feeling some inkling of it stirring inside her gave her a fresh sense of what it really meant, and it just downright sucked. But still, she was glad they were able to enjoy this time together and do something different.

Jackie finally realized that she hadn’t been tossed the frisbee for a few minutes, snapping her out of her rumination. Momentarily disoriented, she looked around until her eyes settled on Marco trying to help Star with her throwing technique. He stood behind her, hands gripping her wrists as he took them through the motions. After a few tries, though, it was pretty obvious that Star was just enjoying being held, and Marco seemed to be in no hurry to finish the lesson himself.

“OK, Marco, all this technique stuff is cool, but check this move out!” Jackie turned towards Star shouting the last few words as she tightened her arms in preparation for a throw. “Spinning Sonic Hug Throw!” She let out a grunt as she whipped the disk as hard as she could, letting her entire body spin on her toes a few times before stopping herself by latching onto Marco in a fierce embrace that almost knocked him off his feet. Marco giggled and returned the affection as Jackie and Chlóe cooed at the adorableness in front of them.

When the hug ended, the two gazed into each other’s eyes until Marco suddenly blinked and looked around. “Uh, Star? Where’s the frisbee?” A soft gasp came from Chlóe a moment later, and everyone followed her line of sight only to find the frisbee stuck in the upper branches of a massive red tree.

“For corn’s sake…” Star facepalmed. “Why do boxing elders have to be here? Like, I know everything from Mewni is here, but why here here, really...” her grumbles trailed off. Wait, did she mean box eld- right, never mind, everything on Mewni is some flavor of weird. Jackie shrugged off the disbelief and took a closer look: the red specks weren’t leaves, they were… boxing gloves? Of course they were.

“I want to climb it.” The voice of her girlfriend shocked her out of her disbelieving stare. She’d been introduced to the wild world of Star Butterfly mere days ago and she was already charging headlong into it?

“Uh, are you sure that’s a good idea, Chló? I don’t know that much about Mewni but if I had to guess, it probably can actually punch you.”

“They have mean left hooks,” Star affirmed nonchalantly.

“It’s covered in those things, dude, how can it have a left- wait, where’s Chlóe?” Jackie looked and saw her girlfriend running over towards the tree with determination etched into her visage.

“OK, my dad has fought enough of them that he’s basically an honorary tree at this point so I’ll go help Chlóe,” Star said before scrambling after her.

Jackie and Marco were the last to jog over towards the base of the tree, stopping a bit short of the base and watching their girlfriends navigate it. Chlóe deftly leapt from branch to branch, dodging all the flailing comically oversized gloves, while Star just kind of clambered up the trunk like a koala batting away all obstacles. Honestly, Jackie knew she should have expected it; Chlóe was fiercely competitive with her parkour, scoffing at the idea of a challenge left uncompleted. Her effortless maneuvering around all the physical hurdles of the Mewnian tree reignited some of her anxiety from earlier in the day.

“Hey, Marco, can I ask you something serious?” Jackie sat down on the grass, hugging her knees to her chest unconsciously, her eyes never leaving the action in front of her, although not out of fear: she was fully confident they could handle themselves.

He joined her on the ground. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I know this sounds weird, since I was, like, there for all of it, but how did you deal with Star leaving?”

“I, uh, don’t really think I did. Remember that cape? Turns out it was just Star’s dad’s meat blanket the whole time. I don’t even know if he’d washed it first…”

“So that explains why you smelled like a sketchy diner that whole summer!” She finally looked over at him and jabbed his side with her elbow with a smile. “But how did you and Star figure everything out, or whatever? What’s gone through the ole’ Diaz noggin? We were always pretty terrible at the mind reader game, y’know.”

Marco leaned back on his hands and kept his gaze steadily focused on the tree with a loving grin; Star had, seemingly, tamed one of the thicker branches and was valiantly riding it into battle against the others while Chlóe watched incredulously from a safe spot near the top, frisbee in hand. “Honestly? I don’t really know. I- I don’t even think we do have everything figured out. But I guess I felt like… whatever life was going to be, I wanted Star in it more than anything, and just went from there.”

All at once, the truth about why this time was different hit her. She couldn’t say how serious it was, or exactly how she felt. She liked Chlóe a lot, and knew she’d be sad without her there, of course. But she was sure right now that she wanted to put in that effort to make things work, in whatever form that would have to take.

Star’s rapid-fire dialogue quickly became audible as she reapproached with Chlóe in tow, huffing deep breaths between each excited line. “Seriously, Chlóe, how did you even get up there so fast? You would’ve been so famous on Mewni! I guess you still could be now, heh.”

“It’s just parkour, it’s not that amazing.”

“Thanks. This helped, a lot. You’re a pretty good friend, Diaz,” she spoke quietly so only he could hear as the other two drew nearer.

Jackie stood up and shook out the numbness in her legs when the four reunited. The sun was starting to descend behind the horizon when Chlóe leaned her elbow onto Jackie’s shoulder. “Do you think we should leave soon?”

“Actually… I think the concert is still going on. Wanna go check it out, for real this time?”

Marco’s eyes lit up mischievously as he turned to Star, offering her his hand. “May I have one last dance tonight, milady?”

“Just because you’re cute when you say it doesn’t give you a pass, Marco,” Star fumed, still taking his hand anyway. Her face went a bit red when she remembered their friends were still there. “So, anyway, um…”

“Don’t wait up, we’ll be a bit still,” Jackie said, ignoring the suspicious look Chlóe was giving her. “We’ll definitely have to hang out more. Stay amazing, you two.” Jackie gave them each a hug before they turned to walk away.

“Bye Jackie! Bye Chlóe!” Star exuberantly waved at them as she and Marco departed hand-in-hand.

“Au revoir!” As soon as they were out of earshot, Chlóe stepped back and folded her arms, staring Jackie down with a sympathetic expression. “Are you sure you’re fine? You’ve been off all day.” Jackie’s vision roamed their surroundings, avoiding the soft yet piercing orbs trained on her from under her furrowed brow. Finally she found a crude stone bench near the edge of the hilltop, no doubt not from her own dimension. She cautiously took Chlóe’s hand and led them over to it, sitting down and looking over the wonder of the town in the sunset. Jackie lost herself in the splendor, finally feeling able to wholeheartedly enjoy the view, still keeping their fingers laced together.

“About earlier… it’s gonna suck being so far apart. I don’t think anything’s going to change that, really.” Chlóe slowly nodded, letting the words sink in as they both were finally coming to terms with the inevitable. Her eyes sunk to the ground before shutting entirely. “But I think that’s OK. I was all, like, worried that everything would go wrong just because of that, but… I don’t think that’s true, or at least I don’t want it to be.” She nervously laughed, brushing aside a stray hair from her face and finally met Chlóe’s eyes that had not wavered from her during the speech. “It’s not like I was ever thinking about breaking up or whatever, don’t get me wrong, Chló. Just took a while to figure out what I really needed to say, I guess.”

Chlóe put her free arm around Jackie’s shoulder. “Life goes on, you know? But I understand, I’ve been feeling the same way. We can make it work. You’ll have to come out to France sometime, I’m sure there’s all kinds of weird new things we can explore there, too.”

Jackie squeezed her girlfriend’s hand, reciprocating the comforting affection. “Heck yeah, we can. So, wanna go check out that concert?”

“Maybe not anymore. That tree climb was much tougher than I thought it would be, I’m exhausted.” They strapped on their helmets and grabbed their boards again, beginning their slow cruise through the park.

“Dude, you made it seem so easy, you just zoomed up to the top. You’re way too good, I still don’t know how you do it.”

“Merci, merci. But I’m still jealous of all the fancy tricks you can do on that board, so I guess we’ve even. Your friend Star, though, she’s special. I got to see someone tame a punching tree! Nothing in France could beat that,” she laughed in that squeaky way of hers that Jackie always found adorable.

“Marco, too. They’re both something else.”

As they neared the periphery of the park, they passed the concert one last time. The crowd had thinned out, leaving only a handful of the Mewmans and monsters behind. The schmaltzy ballad that the singer was warbling honestly offended her ears a little bit, but the crowd seemed to be mostly ignoring it except the two people she’d been looking for. Star and Marco were far enough from the main stage that Jackie was almost certain they could barely hear the music. If they’d been employing any sort of formal slow dancing technique, they’d long since abandoned it. Marco held Star’s signature horns in his hand, his chin resting on her head buried in his chest as they casually swayed. Jackie thought about waving goodbye, but they wouldn’t have noticed it from their own little world. And if they could still find that happiness together, despite everything, then maybe she didn’t need to worry that much; it would all be worth the trip.

#tgg svtfoe #starco #svtfoe #star vs the forces of evil #jackie lynn thomas #jachloe #fanfic

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violetsmoak · 5 years

Text

Tabula Rasa [7/?]

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20183281/chapters/49466486

Blanket Disclaimer:

Summary: Tim and Jason have known they are soulmates for years, though neither has said anything about it. Tim thinks Jason doesn’t know and is just trying to live with it. Jason thinks Tim knows but doesn’t care, which is fine with him, he thinks the soulmate thing is a crock anyway. But one night, a minor mishap forces them to confront the issue head-on, leading to a series of events no one could have predicted.

Rating: PG-13 (Rating may change later)

JayTimBingo Prompts This Chapter: #soulmate aversion #secret identity

First Chapter

Author’s Note(s): In which as time passes, Jay's not having an easy time coping with all this soulmate stuff, and Tim's still trying to figure everything out. And Alfred is his usual awesome self.

________________________________________________________________

“Forget almost being assassinated, how did he not die just from tripping over something in the dark, or eating expired food?” Jason asks as he looks around the disaster zone that is Tim Drake’s apartment. There are takeout containers and empty coffee cups covering every surface, and clothing soiled with dirt and blood and what looks like sewer sludge strewn across the floor. Packaging and bubble wrap twist around the legs of tables and extension cables create startlingly effective tripwire traps. “Can’t you people afford a maid service?”

“Surely even you aren’t so thick that you don’t understand why that would be a bad idea,” Damian points out as he walks in behind him, carrying several large boxes from the local hardware depot. As he deposits them, he surveys the apartment with something more like horror than disgust. “This is the residence of the man my grandfather considers his equal?”

“He’s not usually this bad,” Dick says with a sigh as he closes the door behind him with one hand and deposits his own burden of packages. His eyes rove across the open concept living area with a worried expression. “I was here like three weeks ago and it was spotless. I mean, his room was a disaster zone, but that’s just Tim. Messy genius, you know?”

“If this is how he lives, perhaps the social workers are correct that he needs a more qualified minder.”

Dick ignores that. “I don’t get it. It’s like he just gave up. What the hell happened?”

Jason remains quiet; he has a nasty suspicion he knows exactly what made Tim stop caring.

Whatever, I’m making up for it now, aren’t I? In fucking spades…

He’s been avoiding Tim’s apartment for weeks now, stubbornly squatting in different buildings every night or shelling out for a motel when he wants an actual bed or shower. But the last few days he found several itching bites on his skin, and hell no. He swore when Bruce took him in, he was done with bedbugs and lice and any other critter that can be found in questionably cleaned bedding.

As luck would have it, Dick was on his way over here with Damian to install handicap bars in Tim’s bathroom and check the place over for any other chores or tasks that needed doing.

“I still don’t see the point of that,” Jason says, nodding at the boxes of tools and components. “In what universe do you see B letting Tim leave the manor any time in the next year or so? Even when he gets his memories back.”

“It’s a compliance thing,” Dick informs him. “Now that Tim’s making actual strides in recovery, social services will be coming at some point to check that everything is set up for his rehabilitation if he chooses to come here. If it’s not done, it won’t look good.”

“That chick’s still pushing this?”

“Oh yeah. She keeps coming up with new requirements she insists be filled. Independent psych evaluations, bi-monthly physicals performed by state doctors—she even wants him to attend mandatory rehabilitation at some government facility in Blüdhaven.”

“What? Why there?”

“Aside from the fact Gotham’s mental health infrastructure is riddled with the criminally insane?”

“Fair…”

“Babs looked into her and it looks like Bruce had the right idea. Gillian Sato’s a nobody. Completely average in everything, trying to make a name in her department by going after a big fish. And you know that Bruce has been CPS’ great white whale since he took me in. You too.”

“I remember,” Jason says with a scowl.

It was shortly after he was taken in by Bruce. He had just started as Robin, was beginning to see Bruce and Alfred as family and the manor as home. And then some do-gooder social worker with the ‘best intentions’ and a dislike of Brucie Wayne exploited a technicality that let her remove Jason from the Wayne household. The next weeks and months dragged Jason through such an emotional wringer that his already abundant trust issues increased by orders of magnitude. Even before he and Bruce started to butt heads later, Jason would never truly be at ease in the manor ever again.

Or anywhere, really.

People let you down. People left. People could be taken away from you. These were the facts of life, and Jason vowed never to forget them again.

It’s yet another reason he’s so resistant to the idea of soulmates. Having one just makes it easier to be let down or to have them taken away. Hell, he’s seen that firsthand, hasn’t he? A simple errant bullet and he almost had to watch his die. He can’t even imagine what this whole ordeal would feel like if he was close to Tim.

Lost in his thoughts, it takes him a moment to realize Dick is still talking.

“…her higher-ups barely know anything about her. Most of them are willing to let this thing with Tim go, but she’s the one who keeps pushing it. Poking for loopholes whenever she hits a new roadblock.”

“So have Barbie make her go away,” Jason suggests.

“And give support to the idea Bruce Wayne is above the law because of his money?” Dick challenges. “That would put a lot more attention on the issue than anyone wants. For now, we just play it the legal way. Once Tim’s eighteen, she’ll have lost a major avenue to exploit.”

“Which means you guys have to put up with her trying to wrap you in red tape for the next four months at least.”

“This is ridiculous,” Damian mutters.

“I know.”

“Not that—although yes, this farce of legal compliance is a waste of everyone’s time. But I’m talking about how no one has done anything about Drake’s condition other than wring their hands.”

“Excuse me?!”

“If we’re ever going to go on with our lives, he must be fixed, and faster than some useless stretching is going to do.”

“Kid, how exactly do you think your dad got back to fighting condition after Bane broke his back?” Jason questions. “‘Useless stretching’ was a big part of it.”

“And a hell of a lot of drive,” Dick adds. “Which Tim doesn’t really have enough of right now. I mean, I know he wants to get better, but it’s not the same as if he knew who he was.”

“Exactly. He would already be walking, I’m sure,” Damian nods. “Then you’re in agreement with me.”

“Well, yeah—wait. What am I agreeing with?” Dick asks, suspicious.

“Through my observations of the situation, I have determined that Drake is unlikely to ever regain full functionality or his memory. The easiest way to fix this would be a Lazarus Pit. I happen to know of one in Cuba.”

“Holy no Batman!” Dick cries. “Did you forget what happened when I tried doing that for Bruce?”

“It would be different in this case, since we know for sure that it’s Drake and not a decoy,” Damian argues. “At least, the body bit. And Todd recovered from brain damage thanks to the Pit.” He considers Jason. “Well. More or less. I did not know you before, therefore I have no basis of comparison.”

“And you also missed the murderous rampage that happened afterward,” Jason growls. “Not being able to control yourself sucks. I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

Even Tim.

Especially not Tim.

“If anyone possesses the ability to fight off the effects of the Lazarus Pit, it’s Drake,” Damian insists. “He does not have the same latent anger or violent tendencies as Todd’s files say he had.”

“Hey, stay the hell out of my business!”

“Tim might not be as violent as Jason is or was—”

“Screw you, Dickhead.”

“—but he definitely has the capacity for anger. And as it is, he suffers from severe depression,” Dick informs them soberly. “To the point where he’s considered suicide at least once in the past.”

Damian and Jason’s eyes snap to his face.

“What?” Jason demands.

“That was not in his file.”

“Because he didn’t want it there,” Dick tells them, weary. “In case someone tried to use it against him.”

“Don’t you think that’s kind of fucking important to people know about?” Jason demands. “Especially if they have to go out in the field with him?”

He’s having a sudden flashback to the night when everything came out into the open, when he swooped in to save Tim from a fall that he should have been able to divert himself.

Shit. What if that wasn’t an accident like I thought?

“We all have things in our history we don’t want in the files,” Dick reminds them, his face becoming hard for a moment as if he’s remembering something. Then he shakes it off. “Tim’s been dealing with it. He’s on medication, he reaches out when it gets bad…but it’s an ongoing process. I don’t need to tell you guys that.”

“If he didn’t want anyone knowing, he’s going to be pissed you tattled.”

“I’m only speaking up so Damian understands what a bad idea it would be to put Tim in a Lazarus Pit. Depression on top of Pit madness? I don’t want to even think about what he might do.”

Not to mention bringing him anywhere near where Ra’s might pop up is asking for trouble, especially since he can’t fight him off right now.

“So, you are insisting on this waiting nonsense,” Damian concludes, looking frustrated.

“It’s all we can do for now, Little D.”

The kid’s expression remains stormy.

⁂

Damian strides into Tim’s bedroom one morning, wearing a determined expression and followed by his gigantic dog, Titus.

Tim feels a little wary, not so much because of the intimidating canine, but because his younger brother rarely comes near him voluntarily.

“I have read in numerous medical journals the benefits of animal companions in increasing the likelihood of recovery from traumatic brain injuries,” he announces. “Since Father is adamant, we are not getting another dog, I have decided to allow you to spend time with Titus while I am engaged in my studies. I am confident it will contribute to improvement in your condition.” He gestures at the dog. “Titus, stay with Drake. I shall collect you later.”

Then he nods to himself, as if concluding business, and leaves the room.

Tim stares after him, utterly bewildered at the turn of events. Titus watches the boy go, whines for a moment, and then looks over his shoulder at Tim, head cocked to one side as if wondering what that was all about.

All he can do is shrug, which he feels ridiculous about a moment later because Titus is a dog and has a limited understanding (even if Damian speaks to him as if he’s a human being). Still, a beat later, the dog wanders over to Tim’s bed, and rests his head upon the mattress, gazing up at Tim with curious eyes, his tail wagging somewhat.

Slowly, Tim reaches out with his right hand and places it on the dog’s head, causing the tail-wagging to speed up, and scratches him behind the ears.

Titus thus becomes a semi-permanent element of Tim’s recovery process. Damian comes by every morning to drop the dog off as if he’s a parent leaving a child at daycare or school and leaves for several hours. Titus then goes to Tim for obligatory head-pats and only lets up when it becomes clear Tim’s energy is flagging. Even then, he doesn’t go anywhere, simply curling up beside Tim’s bed. When Damian returns, he pokes his head in, nods again, and gestures for the dog to depart with him.

The whole situation is bizarre, but Tim thinks it’s the way Damian expresses worry.

Having Titus around has the added benefit of intimidating Gillian Sato whenever she comes for one of her ‘visits’. Jay can’t always make it there before she does, and she somehow manages to insist on meeting with Tim privately to avoid bias (which he doesn’t understand). Those visits when Jay isn’t present are as short as possible to comply with her wishes, but they’re long enough that Tim is always exhausted and confused at their end. With Titus there, he’s at least a bit more comfortable; the dog appears to sense when his anxiety is climbing or when Ms. Sato says something that makes him uncomfortable.

“It’s rather concerning, Timothy,” she tells him in a voice meant to be kind. “Considering all the resources Mr. Wayne has at his disposal, that he insists you recover here. Instead of in a facility specifically created to rehabilitate TBI patients. It’s almost as if he’s trying to keep you here under his watchful eye.” She leans forward, expression worrying. “You want to get better as soon as possible, don’t you?”

Before Tim can try to parse out exactly what she’s asking him (because he knows somehow the words don’t match her intention), Titus hackles raise, and he begins to growl.

Almost that same instant, Alfred will sweep in and declare that Tim is quite tired today, perhaps they can continue this interview some other time?

Tim wonders if he isn’t standing at the door eavesdropping, even though somehow, he can’t reconcile that image in his head.

Depending on the time of day that Ms. Sato arranges her ‘visit’, the family member that sits with him changes. He much prefers when it’s Jay—he’s the only one whose presence helps Tim calm down quickly after such an interview—but he’s learning to appreciate and trust everyone else in his family.

He’s come a long way since waking up in the hospital and seeing nothing but a bunch of strangers.

Bruce continues to make efforts to spend time with Tim when he wakes up in the mornings. In addition to the sudoku and crossword puzzles, which Tim has started trying to do himself in his spare time, Bruce has started playing other games with him. First Go Fish, and later Memory.

They were games suggested by Dr. Thrussell to help with Tim’s mental rehabilitation, but it turns out playing with Bruce is fun. His expression is awfully serious for what Tim knows are simple children’s games, but he always becomes exceedingly pleased when Tim makes a correct guess.

Dick, who Tim has learned from Alfred is a police officer, is not always around due to his work shifts being somewhat irregular, but when he is, he goes out of his way to help Tim with whatever he might need. It’s both touching and overwhelming; Tim likes Dick, but he feels the same amount of mental exhaustion when he leaves as he does when Ms. Sato does.

How does one person have that much energy?

His favorites besides Jay, are Cassandra and Stephanie.

Steph is nice, as well. She’s affectionate with him, has a good sense of humor, and unlike everyone else who seems wary about touching Tim beyond helping him groom himself or for physio, she’s very tactile.

And she smells nice.

He feels a level of comfort with her that is like when he’s with Jay, which he supposes is because they used to date before she and Cass discovered they were soulmates. Perhaps it’s why he doesn’t question her presence in his life the way he still does sometimes with Bruce or Dick or Damian.

And then there’s Cassandra, who’s just…amazing.

Because she’s like him, somehow.

There’s intelligence in her eyes, but she has trouble getting the words out just like he does. When she sees him struggling with his brain to mouth disconnect, she looks empathetic and he knows it’s not pity or guilt.

The latter is a look he’s started to recognize in Jay, and he doesn’t like it.

He wonders if whatever makes him look like that is the reason he doesn’t get along with the rest of the family. He wishes he could ask, though he suspects even if he could, he wouldn’t get a straight answer.

He’s not sure if that’s normal for this family, or if it’s just another attempt to keep from upsetting Tim. Ever since he started to improve, everyone seems to be wanting to keep him occupied and entertained. Sometimes it’s fun—like today, with Steph egging him on while playing Candy Crush—and other times, it’s just…

Exhausting.

His convalescence aside, Tim has noticed there are times when he feels exhausted and strained for reasons other than his injury. He doesn’t know where those feelings come from, just that he dislikes them.

⁂

One evening, a little over three months following the shooting, Jason shuffles into the manor and wonders how this became routine for him.

It should worry him; how easy it’s been to slip back into the habit of being greeted by Alfred. Into toeing off his boots in the entrance closest and loitering in the kitchen to see if there’s anything left over from lunch or dinner.

It’s deceptively simple to fall into the mental trap of calling this place home again, which is why he never lets himself stay longer than a few hours. Even when Alfred keeps offering to make up a guest room or tries to tempt him with homemade scones for breakfast the next morning.

(He can’t go near his old room, the mausoleum to shattered dreams and stolen childhood.)

Jason’s usual arguments against that are quieter right now, his mind on what Damian said the other day: that no one is trying to help Tim.

In the strictest sense, the sentiment is bullshit; everyone in the Family has been bending over backward trying to make his rehabilitation priority, to protect him from two-faced social workers and asshole paparazzi looking for a story. But there’s been no headway on the shooting, and he wonders if anyone else but him is still looking into it.

Which is stupid, because he knows for a fact that Bruce is a dog with a bone and won’t let any case go, let alone one where his kid got hurt.

So why hasn’t he found anything yet?

He knows from experience, both as Robin and Red Hood, that some cases take longer than others. Bruce spent an entire year investigating the Holiday killings before Jason got involved, and during their years together there were several ongoing cases that dragged for weeks and months before a break could be made.

There are some that remain unsolved to this day.

But this is Tim, you’d think he’d be more motivated. Unless…

Unless he has found something and just doesn’t want to share it because he thinks Jason’s going to go on a vengeful, murderous rampage.

He clenches his fists.

It wouldn’t be the first time that Bruce kept something from him or anyone else if he’s on a case he’s decided is his. He even keeps Dick out of the loop on stuff like that, and he’s the golden child.

Jason’s probably just being paranoid.

Except…

Except he learned paranoia from the best, and that paranoia isn’t always just paranoia, and if Bruce thinks he’ll react badly to something, of course he’s going to keep it from him. Which means they’re going to have a problem because this case isn’t going to get solved if they can’t share important information.

Instead of heading toward Tim’s bedroom, Jason changes course and makes a beeline for the Cave entrance in the study.

He reaches the bottom of the staircase just in time to see Nightwing and Robin peel out of the garage on two bikes. A cowl-free Batman is hunched over the computer, looking up something on the main screen, while the ones off to the sideshow various CCTV feeds from the Narrows, Tricorner and Burnley.

He catches flashes of Black Bat and Signal in the latter two, and scowls.

“I should be out there.”

“That’s not your concern right now,” Bruce replies without even turning around. “You should be upstairs with Tim.”

There’s a derisive snort at that, and Jason glances over to see Blondie balanced on her own bike, adjusting her hair beneath her cowl.

“Problem, Bat-chick?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t sound like nothin’.”

“Just seems like certain people are easier to forgive than others.”

“Stephanie,” Bruce warns, still not looking at either of them.

“No, it’s fine,” she replies. “Let’s keep tiptoeing around the giant pink elephant in the room. And by giant pink elephant, I mean crime lord.”

“That what you’re goin’ with?” Jason challenges. “You’ve been stewin’ on that for three months, and you’re gonna give me grief over bullshit that’s over and done with?”

“Clearly it’s not over and done with.”

“If you’ve got a problem with me, strap on the steel tits and own up to what it’s really about.”

“Okay, fine!” Blondie hops off the bike to march forward, stopping a good foot away from him and shoving a finger at him. “You might be his soulmate, but don’t think that gets you off for all the crap you’ve pulled. Especially since you’ve known this whole time.”

“What I know or knew is none of your business. But if you really want to have a competition about who hurt him most, my name ain’t the only one on the list.”

“Are you seriously trying to pull the ‘everyone else did it too so it’s okay’ defense?”

“No, I’m telling you to be careful in that fragile fucking glass house of yours.”

“Speaking of houses, how long are you going to keep playing house with Tim before you break his heart again? Are you going to do it right when he gets his memories back, or wait a few days for him to adjust and then drop him?”

“You think I’d be that big an asshole?”

“I know you’re that big an asshole. And so did Tim,” she shoots back, merciless. “He told me you were dead.”

“I was dead.”

“And then you weren’t. And he still always told that to anyone who asked. He knew whatever this is with you, it was never going to happen, but it also wasn’t going away. So, he was trying to move on. And if he’s smart—which we all know Tim is, memories or not—he’ll stick to that gut feeling. Because the longer he’s involved with you, the more hurt he’s going to be when you inevitably break his heart. If you were any kind of decent, you’d get the hell out of his life before he finishes imprinting on you like a baby chick.”

“That’s enough,” Bruce says, and this time he does turn around. “Stephanie, patrol.”

“I’m going,” she replies. “But not because you told me to.”

She stalks toward her bike, and after a few angry revs of the engine, speeds off out of the cave.

Bruce is still looking in Jason’s direction; he can feel the frown. “Provoking her isn’t helpful to anyone, least of all Tim.”

“What argument were you watching?” Jason shoots back. “If anyone’s provoking anyone else, it’s her. And I’m telling you now, B, if she wants a fight, I’ll give it to her. I’m putting up with enough crap because of this soulmate thing, I didn’t sign on to let Timbo’s pissed off ex-girlfriend take shots at me.”

“The lack of evidence in this case is frustrating everyone.”

Jason gives him a disbelieving look—there’s no way that Bruce can be so emotionally stunted that he can’t figure out what Blondie’s little tiff was all about.

Then again…yes, he is.

Rather than stew over Blondie’s accusations (and the fact that she’s got more of a point than he’d like), Jason decides to focus on what Bruce actually said.

“So you haven’t found anything on your end, either?”

He leans against the giant computer, keeping a conspicuous distance between him and Bruce, and trying not to feel awkward and naked without his helmet on. He doesn’t actually remember the last time he was down here and not in uniform.

“No.”

“Really. Nothing? Not a single goddamn clue? This is all just some random person that decided to take the kid out?”

“It’s not the first time someone has attempted to assassinate Tim.”

“Yeah, but I heard about that, it was all planned for. This wasn’t.”

“Hence the continued investigation.”

“Yeah, well, there’s no way you’ve been on the case this long and haven’t found something.”

Bruce is quiet for a moment and then nods. “Based on the lack of available evidence, whoever did this was a professional. Elite even.”

“No shit. We knew that from Day One.”

“I’ve since narrowed down a list of suspects from around the world, who have the capability of pulling this off.”

“And?”

“And they’re all either accounted for or dead.”

“So why do you look more constipated about this than usual? You’ve had harder cases with less evidence.”

“Almost all of these snipers were trained by David Cain.”

The name makes Jason tense. “He’s dead.”

“Yes. But before he died, he mentioned something to me. That there were others.”

“Others like Cass, you mean.”

“Hn.”

Jason grits his teeth. “So, your theory is some designer assassin Child o’ Cain decided to come to Gotham just to shoot Tim?”

“It’s not a theory. Just a possible connection. There’s too little evidence to support it.”

“Then what the hell are you spending the time on it for?” Jason demands. “If we’re going for wild conspiracy theories, why not an alternate universe or time travel? It’s just as easy to speculate someone came back in time to assassinate Tim or put him out of commission for whatever reason.”

“I won’t discount those theories either,” Bruce allows, because of course. “But in either situation, anyone coming here for Tim specifically would likely be enhanced to survive whatever means brought them here.”

“Or it’s one of us.”

Bruce doesn’t meet his gaze, but there’s a subtle tensing of his shoulder muscles.

“I saw that,” Jason points out quietly. Bruce says nothing. “You think it would be me, don’t you?”

“I never said that.”

“If it were one of us, I’m the best marksman, so if it were anyone of ours to come back and put a bullet in his head, it’d be me.”

Bruce stands then, agitated. “You’re jumping to conclusions and letting your feelings cloud your judgment. This is only one of many theories, not even the one that’s most likely—”

“Except we both know that ain’t the case!” Jason snarls. “You know as well as I do, I’m probably the reason he got shot in the first place!”

“Jason—”

“I did this, B! I was in the middle of a pissing contest with some asshole moving in on my turf and Tim got caught in the crossfire. I might as well have pulled the trigger myself!”

“You did not cause Tim to be shot,” Bruce snaps.

“That’s not what you thought when it happened,” Jason reminds him bitterly.

“And I’ve since revised my opinion. I don’t believe this to be related to the contract that was put out on Red Hood.”

“Oh, yeah, that’s a totally glowing recommendation!”

“Whoever is after you obviously isn’t aware of your civilian identity, or they would still be pursuing you,” Bruce replies. “Going underground would only keep you safe for so long, and it’s been months. Whoever is targeting you may have been watching Red Hood, but they weren’t watching you. Therefore, the likelihood of Tim’s shooting having anything to do with your activities is low.”

“Seriously? That’s your explanation?”

“Jason,” Bruce sighs, and he’s pinching the bridge of his nose in a familiar gesture of exhaustion. “I’m trying to tell you I don’t think you’re responsible for this. Why are you fighting me on it?”

“Because nothing is ever that easy with you! And you’re usually the one driving the ‘Jason messes everything up’ bandwagon. Don’t tell me that’s changed all because I happen to be the kid’s soulmate.”

“That has nothing to do with it. I’ve already explained my reasoning, and it’s enough for me at the moment.” He fixes Jason with a calculating look that he doesn’t like. “The question is, why are you so determined to make it your fault?”

Jason opens his mouth to respond, but the words get stuck in his throat as he realizes he has no idea how to answer that.

Bruce continues. “Your behavior is inconsistent.”

“Hell, yes, it’s inconsistent! It’s been months and I still have no fucking idea how I’m supposed to deal with all of this!”

“Perhaps you should take some time,” the older man replies, turning his attention back to the computer. “Away from here.”

Jason narrows his eyes. “Away from Tim, you mean.”

“He’s at the point where he is no longer uncomfortable with the rest of us, and you did make it clear that you only intended to stay by his side until his condition improved. I’m sure with some explanation you could take some time. It might help.”

“You just…that’s not even…”

Jason falters, not sure how to respond, because really, this is his get-out-of-jail-free card. He did say he was only going to stick around until Tim was doing better, and the kid is doing better. He can get back to his search for the dick that got him to go to ground, can get back to living his life the way he wants it and not based around a convalescent’s schedule.

But the idea of it just now, makes him feel queasy, like he’s running a dirty deal.

And on top of that, it bothers him that while Bruce is certain he’s not responsible for Tim’s injury, he still obviously has an issue with the fact they’re soulmates.

It shouldn’t bother him.

It absolutely should not bother him.

And yet.

“You’re a fucking piece of work, you know that?” he snaps, and heads right back up the stairs, mind racing and unable to settle on a single conflicted thought.

Upon reaching the study he finds Alfred on his way in, a tray of tea and sandwiches in hand. The older man takes one look at him and purses his lips, and puts down his burden.

“From your expression, I suspect Master Bruce will be sulking too much the rest of the evening to be interested in dinner.”

“Like I care,” Jason grunts, slamming the false front of the clock entrance closed.

“Were that the case, you would not be damaging the furniture.”

Jason scowls, though it’s somewhat tempered when Alfred offers him the sandwiches he was obviously about to bring down to Bruce.

He takes a petty satisfaction in polishing off every bit of food and tea while Alfred pretends to busy himself with tidying the already pristine study. Although he’s clearly remaining nearby should Jason need him, he doesn’t try to force a conversation.

How does he always know…?

Jason surprises himself when he’s the one to break the silence. “Why the hell does this soulmate shit have to be so complicated? Everyone else just gets it, and I just want to jump out of my fucking skin because it’s making me crazy.”

For once, Alfred doesn’t comment on his language.

“As I understand it, you have never had another person with whom you could confide about this before. You had not manifested your mark when you first came to us, and Master Bruce does tend to avoid matters of the heart and soul except when necessity requires it.”

Jason grumbles, “No kidding.”

It’s not just now, either.

Years back, Bruce got through the sex talk with his usual emotionless, detached aplomb, but didn’t bother with any of the other stuff. Jason would have thought the guy had no heart at all, except he saw how invested he got with the women in his life that mattered.

“And I would imagine discussing it with Mr. Harper and Ms. Anders has not helped, given the substantial difference in circumstances.”

“You got that right…”

“Then perhaps I might offer my own understandings if only to provide another perspective.”

Jason shrugs. “Why not? It’s not like anyone else cares, other than to look like I kicked a puppy whenever I’m in the room with Tim.”

“It has always been my belief that one’s soulmate is the person who will have the most impact on one’s life.”

“So why isn’t mine the Joker?” Jason shoots back spitefully.

“As if that creature ever had a soul,” Alfred scoffs.

“I’m just sayin’, your logic’s flawed.”

“And if you think a homicidal clown gets to claim to be the biggest impact on your life, I wash my hands of you. Do you realize you are scarcely 21 years old? You have an awful lot of life ahead of you to have that one moment, traumatic as it was, to define all of it. Perhaps in those first few months or years following the incident, yes. But you have a future, Master Jason. Soulmates are not just for the moment, but for the breadth of your lifespan. And however much strangeness we see on a regular basis in this world of ours, none of us have the ability to discern the future.”

“Except maybe Duke.”

“Except perhaps Master Duke,” Alfred allows, his mouth twitching somewhat. “But even that only comes in flashes. He cannot know it all. And neither can you.”

“Is that your convoluted way of telling me ‘chin up’?”

“That is my convoluted way of telling you that you are not the only person to find the matter of soulmates difficult to navigate. And no one—not even Master Bruce—is expecting you to figure it all out right away.”

Jason snorts. “You sure about that?”

Alfred simply raises an eyebrow as if insulted by his pearls of wisdom being questioned, and Jason raises his hands in surrender.

Never question Alfred. He knows everything.

Still, he suspects that Bruce will be getting a rather pointed talking-to in the near future. It makes him feel marginally better about the whole thing.

“Now,” the older man continues in a businesslike tone, “Timothy is in the family room this afternoon. However, I would understand if you do not feel up to seeing him today and would be perfectly willing to make an excuse for your absence should you require it.”

Jason almost accepts the out, but then remembers Bruce making a similar suggestion—albeit with more suspect motives—and shakes his head.

“Nah,” he sighs. “Knowing Timbers, he’s been waiting up all day. Least I can do is say 'hi'.”

“Indeed,” Alfred agrees neutrally, but there’s a twinkle in his eye that suggests approval.

As long as no one else decides to ambush me with their emotional crap today, it should be fine, Jason decides, leaving the study and wandering down the hall.

⁂

Tim is sitting in the family room watching Arranged.

He spends most of his time there, either alone or with whatever member of the family is still at home that day. After so long being practically bedridden, he’s desperate to be anywhere that’s not his bedroom.

Alfred wheels him out into the gardens whenever it’s not raining or damp or windy (which, being May, it almost always is), and he’s since enjoyed the sun on his face for the first time that he can remember. He also got to experience his apparent first sunburn, because it seems his skin is notoriously sensitive.

Worth it though, to be outside.

He shifts, sitting up on the couch in front of the large television. He’s surrounded by a staggering number of blankets and pillows; Tim’s not even sure he really needs them to support him anymore—he’s been sitting up on his own for a while—but Alfred insists it’s better safe than sorry.

Titus is lying on his feet, dozing but alert. Tim’s wheelchair stands beside the couch, with Alfred the Cat (Damian seems to not have much imagination when it comes to pet names) curled up on the seat. Occasionally he opens one eye as if to check on Tim, and then returns to sleep.

He’s not a bad recovery-cat, I guess.

On-screen, Cordelia de Vere and Bertram Montmorency get to know one another and discover they actually get along, being of complementary temperaments. They have undeniable chemistry and their dialog is full of witty diatribe and veiled insults that he can’t help enjoying. It’s much more interesting than what Cordelia had with her soulmate, which he agrees with Jay about. Tim’s not sure if it’s a better match than Bertram and Maurice, who the prince continues to see in secret. Meanwhile, Gerald seems to be getting along just fine, joining the army and vowing to build himself up to meet the standards of Cordelia’s parents. He doesn’t actually seem outwardly bothered by her absence, except for several sequences of him writing her love letters.

“Never mind a bullet, this is the kind of crap that gives you brain damage,” a voice informs Tim, amused and somewhat mocking as usual.

Tim’s eyes snap instantly to Jay as he appears in the room, and he feels a smile break out on his face.

“Hi.”

It’s one of the words he’s been working on in therapy and can finally say it without having to mentally or actually hum through a children’s nursery rhyme song. It gives him a thrill of accomplishment, albeit one that pales at the thrill when Jason’s eyes widen in surprise, and then something that Tim imagines might be pride.

“Hi back,” he replies and glances around the room. The car glares up at him like he expects him to question or end his occupation of the space, but Jason simply throws himself down on the nearby easy chair—it’s the only piece of furniture free of pillows and blankets—and squints at the television. “I can’t believe you’re still watching this.”

Tim snorts and shoots Jason a wry look, mentally telegraphing his thoughts. And what are you doing right now?

“Don’t give me that, I’m humoring the invalid.”

“Uh-huh,” Tim grunts.

“That’s a lot of sarcasm for someone who can’t manage actual words yet.”

Tim doesn’t take Jason’s abrasive comments as an insult. Along with Steph, he is the only one that doesn’t try to coddle him. He talks to Tim the same way he talks to everyone else, which, like he’s equal to them even though his brain is making things hard for him right now.

Still, the reminder of his lack of verbosity directly on the heels of his recent accomplishments strikes something in Tim, something like annoyance. Something that suddenly wants to prove a point.

He frowns in effort, trying to line up thoughts and words and the movement of his mouth.

“This is seriously predictable,” Jason complains. “Obviously the writers are trying to set it up that he shows up again and sweeps her off her feet. Then the rich boy goes back to his boyfriend and watching all this is a total waste of time.” Tim doesn’t respond, and Jason glances over at him to gauge his reaction. Only to notice now that Tim is watching him instead of the show, mouth turned downward in a frown. “What?”

Tim’s lips part, then purse, and he makes a kind of humming noise in his throat, closing his eyes in concentration. He takes a deep breath and then utters a sound.

“Ju…jjuh…juh-ay…”

He blinks, somewhat surprised by himself. Jason seems to echo it. “Did you just…?”

Tim’s mouth quirks upward and he feels almost smug. Then, he slowly sounds out the word again. “Ja-ay.”

It’s slow and stilted, and his voice is raspy from disuse, but it’s there, decrying his enforced muteness.

Jay is sitting up ramrod straight now. “Holy shit, you’re trying to talk.”

The naked awe on his soulmate’s face makes him feel warm, and so Tim plods onward, ignoring the way sweat breaks out on the back of his neck or the way he feels a little dizzy.

“Th…than…kyuu…”

Jay’s expression appears to shutter, awe becoming confusion. “Uh…for what?”

“Sa…say…” Tim is panting a bit from the effort now.

“Hey, forget it, don’t push yourself,” Jason implores him, sitting up and making a pacifying gesture. “Three words is enough progress for—”

“Say-ved,” Tim interrupts doggedly. “Safe. Me. Heard…duh…di…Dick…say. You. Say-ved me.”

There.

That was almost two full sentences. He knows they’re crude and basic and maybe not quite what he was trying to say, but he managed to communicate on his own without blinking. It fills him with a buoyant glee, a bubbling temptation to laugh though he knows from experience that doing that would just make his head spin and throb.

He expects Jay to look proud again, happy or relieved—maybe even a sarcastic, teasing quip.

What he doesn’t expect is the wild gleam in Jay’s eye or the way the blood rushes from his cheeks. He looks like someone punched him, and then he’s standing, backing away.

“That…” He swallows. “I’ve got to…”

He doesn’t finish and instead turns and practically bolts from the room, leaving Tim staring after him in shocked dismay, wondering what just happened.

________________________________________________________________

To Be Continued

Poor Timmy. And just when he's starting to show some of his old spunk, too...

Things are heading for their first boiling point. Someone's got to knock some sense into Jay, either literally or metaphorically (who wants to take bets on who it will be?).

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douchebagbrainwaves · 5 years

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I'VE BEEN PONDERING SUMMER

In Lisp, all variables are effectively pointers. Why go work as an ordinary employee for a big company, or have they abandoned the center for the suburbs?1 Especially if it meant independence for my native land, hacking.2 It's hard to engage an audience it's better to start with what goes wrong and try to trace it back to the root causes. A lot of the new startups would create new technology that further accelerated variation in productivity is far from the only source of economic inequality, the former because founders own more stock, and the rate at which it changes is itself speeding up.3 When we first started Y Combinator we have some kind of secret weapon—that he was harming his future—that hacking was cold, precise, and methodical, and that was more than enough technical skill. There is a name now for what we were: an Application Service Provider, or ASP. How little money it can take to start a company of any size to get software written.

I needed to remember, if I could give an example of a powerful macro, and say there!4 Design means making things for humans. Wrong. Big companies also don't pay people the right way to get an accurate drawing is not to make the poor richer. This sort of thing was the rule, not better off, as more than a plan A. In some ways, this assumption makes life a lot easier for the users and for us as well. Why did desktop computers take over?5 Programmers have to worry about infrastructure. For the first week or so we intended to make this point diplomatically, but in many ways pushes you in the opposite direction.6 Similarly, good new problems are not to be had for the asking. Don't be too legalistic about the conditions under which they're allowed to leave.

Now, when someone asks me what I do, I look them straight in the eye and say I'm designing a new dialect of Lisp;-Though useful to present-day union organizers rather than an attack on early ones. I think mathematicians also believe this. In the middle you have people who are poor or rich and figure out why. We were just able to develop stuff in house, and that if grad students could start startups, they'll start startups. Eric Raymond here. Which seems to me one of the most interesting differences between research and design. In fact, it may be slightly faster. We were terrified of starting a startup, there are even worse tradeoffs than these. I think about why I voted for Clinton over the first George Bush, it wasn't because I was shifting to the left or right in their morning-after analyses are like the financial reporters stuck writing stories day after day about the random fluctuations of the stock market.

This metaphor doesn't stretch that far. Maybe it will also be your cell phone. The books I bring on trips are often quite virtuous, the sort of engagement you get when speaking ad lib. It doesn't necessarily mean being self-sacrificing. For the first week or so we intended to make this an ordinary desktop application. You can't trust authorities.7 They were, as a rule, not better off, as more than one with a 50% chance of winning has to pay more than one discovered when Christmas shopping season came around and loads rose on their server. I'm letting you in on the secret early. But since then the west coast has just pulled further ahead.8 It is not the way it's portrayed on TV. And if you're writing a program that attacked the servers themselves should find them very well defended.

Sometimes I can think with noise.9 Our only expenses in that phase were food and rent. It's hard to imagine now, but when they do get paged at 4:00 AM, they don't think of themselves that way. When you switch to this new model, you realize how much software development is affected by the reactions of those around them, and c they're individually inconsistent. If you want, but not totally unlike your other friends. And that might be a great thing. As long as our hypothetical Blub programmer wouldn't use either of them.10 I'm a little embarrassed to say, I never said anything publicly about Lisp while we were working on Viaweb. As usual, by Demo Day about half the startups were doing something significantly different than they planned. So there you have it.

Notice I said what they need, not what a piece of code. Fortunately, there were few obstacles except technical ones. And more to the point of view. And creating wealth, as a rule, not better off, as more than a plan A. You never had to worry about those. If you work this way too.11 Because painters leave a trail of work behind them, you can just turn off the service. I could tell I knew how to program computers, or what life was really like in preindustrial societies, or how to program better than most people doing it for a living. I think few realize the huge spread in the value of 20 year olds.12 Prep schools openly say this is one reason intranet software will continue to do so but be content to work for someone else would get an even colder reception from the 19 year old was Bill Gates? Programs.13 The way to get in the software as soon as they got their first round of outside investors 36x.

It allows you to give an example of this rule; if you could count on investors being interested even if you're not certain, you should get summer jobs at places you'd like to work. You have the users' data right there on your disk.14 And you don't have to be poked with a stick to get them to stay is to give them enough that they don't dress up. Only 13 of these were in product development. No one will look that closely at it. You have the users' data right there on your disk.15 At any rate, the result is that scientists tend to make their fortunes will continue to do so much besides write software.16 So startup culture may not merely be different in the way of having the next. Though we were comparatively old, we weren't tied down by jobs they don't want to, but they didn't actually drop out of college and it tanks, you'll end up at 23 broke and a lot who get rich by taking money from the rich. If you write the laws very carefully, that is a good idea—but we've decided now that the party line should be to discover surprising things. This was done entirely for PR purposes. What you're afraid of competition.

Notes

Management consulting.

If you're expected to do work you love, or boards, or even being Genghis Khan is probably a losing bet for a couple hundred years or so and we ran into Yuri Sagalov. Most of the reason the founders. In fact the decade preceding the war had been a waste of time on is a new version from which they don't know. 6% of the products I grew up with much greater inconveniences than that.

Even in English, our sense of a startup enough to invest in a safe environment, and then a block or so and we did not become romantically involved till afterward. They seem to be hard on the grounds that a startup is rare. Companies often wonder what to do whatever gets you there sooner.

9999 and.

Globally the trend has been around as long as the web have sucked—A Spam Classification Organization Program. The point where things start with consumer electronics.

People and The Old Way. But if you tell them what to do video on-demand, because you can't even claim, like the bizarre consequences of this essay talks about programmers, the other cheek skirts the issue; the point where it was briefly in Britain in the Ancient World, Economic History Review, 2:9 1956,185-199, reprinted in Finley, M.

Inside their heads a giant house of cards is tottering. In fact the less powerful language in it.

The only people who might be 20 or 30 times as much income. Selina Tobaccowala stopped to think about, like arithmetic drills, instead of editors, and astronomy. Incidentally, the police treat people more equitably. There can be done at a famous university who is highly regarded by his peers will get funding, pretty much regardless of how to use those solutions.

For example, because it doesn't cost anything. What will go away. In a startup in a deal to move from London to Silicon Valley like the increase in trade you always see when restrictive laws are removed. Come work for us now to appreciate how important it is certainly part of a safe environment, but mediocre programmers is the discrepancy between government receipts as a technology startup takes some amount of damage to the size of a startup, as on a map.

Success here is that they've already decided what they're going to need to run an online service, this would work.

But no planes crash if your school, secretly write your dissertation in the right sort of wealth, not like soccer; you don't know of no Jews moving there, only Jews would move there, and power were concentrated in the imprecise half.

The Civil Service Examinations of Imperial China, many of the art itself gets more random, the increasing complacency of managements.

For example, the laser, it's this internal process in their target market the shoplifters are also startlingly popular on Delicious, but since it was 10 years ago.

In a project like a core going critical.

How could these people make the right not to stuff them with comments. The state of technology, companies that an investor, than a product of number of discrepancies currently blamed on various forbidden isms.

If you did that in practice that doesn't lose our data. Anything that got built this way is basically a replacement mall for mallrats.

Thanks to Mike Arrington, Trevor Blackwell, Robert Morris, Patrick Collison, and Paul Buchheit for sharing their expertise on this topic.

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humansofhds · 4 years

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Johnna Loreen, MTS ′18

“I’m glad that in recent years prison scholarship and activism is coming to the forefront so that people have to see it and listen. The more that we can empower people who are impacted to be part of that movement, the more likely people will have to reckon with these truths.”

Johnna works as an education navigator, advocating for and advising people who want to start or continue their education upon their release from incarceration.

Falling Down the Rabbit Hole

My path to prison education began in a course on policing with Professors Aisha Beliso-De Jesús and Laurence Ralph. I found many issues I care about—policing, and race and class conflict—intersecting at this place called mass incarceration. I felt compelled to learn more, to get involved, and to see what I could do to be part of that work. A classmate recommended I look into the Petey Greene Program, which supports higher education in prisons in Boston and other cities along the East Coast.

I ended up working with the Petey Greene Program and at MCI Norfolk for over half of my graduate career. I did some independent studies with Professors Kaia Stern and Diane Moore and read a lot of Angela Davis, Michelle Alexander, Elizabeth Hinton, and other leading scholars on these subjects.

Two books that I read were Kaia Stern’s Voices from American Prisons and Richard Snyder’s The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Punishment. I was fascinated by why our prisons look the way they look, why they operate the way they operate, and how that is deeply rooted in the Christian theology that helped shape this country. I fell down the rabbit hole of the theology of the criminal “justice” system.

Incarceration’s Christian History

One would hope that Christian theology would follow a restorative, healing, loving approach to criminal justice because those are the feel-good parts of Christianity. But there are also some things that are not so pretty in Christian theology or ways that it has been co-opted that do harm to communities and individuals.

The Protestant ethic of individualism that sets apart Protestantism from its brother, Catholicism, defines our punishment system. For example, the fact that solitary confinement exists, and that throughout history people were often put into solitary confinement with nothing but a Bible, comes from an Anglican idea that solitude would bring one closer to God. The fact that prisons were built by Quakers, in concept and construction, as an alternative to the death penalty is another example of the religious roots of our prison system.

We idealize individualism as a society, which is very Capitalist and very Protestant. One's relationship with God is individual. It is the individual's business, and it is their responsibility to redeem themself.

This idea takes the onus off the community to be part of somebody's redemption, to take responsibility for the society we created and the people in it. It manifests in a punishment system that blames the individual and absolves the community of responsibility.

Erasing these connections is incredibly harmful because people are ripped out of the context of their family and relationships and expected to make something good out of that.

A View from the Inside

The implementation of education in prisons varies widely from prison to prison and state to state. In a lot of ways, my experience in Massachusetts is very night and day from my work in Washington now.

The prisons in Massachusetts are older. Everything is older and has more history on the East Coast, and that is reflected in the architecture of the prison and a lot of the attitudes around the prison. There is an antiquated mentality about what a prison is there for and how people who are incarcerated should be treated.

While volunteering at MCI Norfolk, I was escorted everywhere. It was very strict. There was a lot of distrust in all directions. It was a really stressful environment to work in. A lot of people I worked with there—some corrections officers, teachers, and of course, students—were phenomenal. But that certainly was not the whole experience. Additionally, college programming was brought in by universities or non-profits who worked outside the Department of Corrections (DOC). The partnerships were not always as cooperative as one would hope.

It was very different coming to Washington where there is a state infrastructure already in place for education in prisons. The State of Washington has mandated that certain educational programming be available to people who are incarcerated. The DOC partners with a local college—often a community or technical college in the area—so that every state prison has a partnership with a local education provider to provide basic GED and high school diploma studies, as well as some vocational programming.

Students often tell us that they wish we offered liberal arts education—a transferable associate's degree, for example, or a bachelor's degree. Having a contract with the state brings limitations though, and because of our state’s contract, we can't use state funding to offer either. Outside of basic education, we can only bring in vocational programs.

The reason comes down to the perception that education in prison should be for a certain purpose. A lot of leaders, a lot of people giving the money, believe that education should lead to better job outcome, job readiness, or a vocational skill that is marketable. Those things are valuable and should be present in what we offer. But I take issue with that being the only thing we focus on in education in prisons.

There can be so much value in an education for the sake of education. I think that offering liberal arts studies and expanded degree programs offers an opportunity for a transformative experience and more humanizing spaces. One can develop a stronger sense of agency just through the act of studying, through the act of education.

A Corrections Education Navigator

My job is like a college advisor, but it looks very different inside of a prison facility. I work with people who are releasing anywhere from a month to a year out and want to explore the possibility of beginning or continuing their education.

I help them talk through their professional and personal goals, and whether a college education, vocational program, or other direction makes sense for them. Then I support them through the process, such as FAFSA, college applications, and all the little hoops and inconveniences that one has to navigate.

I was a first-generation college student, so I remember some of what that was like—not knowing the right questions to ask, where to start, what resources even existed for students like me. People who are incarcerated face a whole different set of challenges in addition to that.

That is why I like the title “Navigator.” I don't have all the answers all the time, but I work together with my students to navigate the challenges and make sure that they have an advocate every step of the way. When they get to their release date, I want them to have an idea of what they want to do, where they want to go, and some solid next steps they can take.

I’ll admit I have mixed feelings about my work though. I would really love to say I do great stuff, it's all part of this great system, and we're making things better. But I am not convinced of that.

On a systemic level, I don't feel like I do that much, or certainly not enough. I still feel like I'm pushing people out into a system that is not really meant for their success and is not going to support them in their pursuit of success. That feeling sucks. Being a Navigator or even one of several Navigators trying to do good work with people does not necessarily mean that we’re transforming the system in a meaningful way.

On an individual level, I do some good work that I am proud of. I love being a partner in my students’ success. It feels really good when someone gets into college and I helped them do that. Or someone gets a financial aid package, and for the first time, realizes that college can be a reality for them. That's really empowering. I love being a part of that.

Where You Are Determines What You Get

There are a lot of barriers for students in prison. When you walk into the classroom, it may not seem terribly different. The differences come down to what students must overcome to get their education.

Students in prison do not have the kind of support that students on the outside do. They don't always have advisors or tutors. There isn’t always a quiet place to study. Because of the pandemic, they don't even have a library. And even when they do, they don't have access to JSTOR or Google, or all those resources that students on the outside take for granted and use constantly. Some students also face the logistical difficulties of taking classes while in solitary confinement.

Students in prison are constantly jumping through hoops. It takes a very determined, dedicated person to be successful in higher education in prisons. Even though we do our best to make it as accessible as possible, the barriers are many.

We are working to open up more possibilities for our students. For example, a special kind of laptop was secured for students last year to provide more research resources. I feel lucky that in Washington the right people have pushed and advocated for that because I have taught in facilities where there is no such thing, and there never will be.

This sort of thing is important everywhere, but because every state is so different, what you get depends on where you are incarcerated. It should not be that way.

Transformative Education Is Intentional

It is important for those doing this work to acknowledge that a lot of people who are impacted by our carceral system have not had good experiences in education or with educators. Educational institutions can be incredibly oppressive, stifling, and unwelcoming. Many people in our programs tell us that their experience with education has sucked. This is one reason why I take issue with the idea that education is inherently good.

Some educators come into prisons with expectations that they will just deliver the curriculum and it will be of value. But it’s naïve to think that education is inherently wonderful or will automatically transform the learner. Even if a student gets college credit or a degree, education must be done with intention as a collaboration between learners and educators to prove meaningful.

Many scholars have worked on the concept of transformative education. A few are Kaia Stern, Diane Moore, and, of course, there's Paulo Freire's famous Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Their work shows how important it is to understand that education is not inherently transformative. If that is what one wants education to be, one must be incredibly intentional to make it that way. If done intentionally, education can help empower people in prisons to exercise their own agency. It can give them more tools and support to vocalize their experience, their story, their needs.

In that way, education can be a wonderful tool of justice and liberation work. But it doesn't just happen that way. One doesn't learn how to add fractions, and then magically have this heightened consciousness. It must be incredibly intentional. I've used that word a million times, but I can't overstate it.

The Road to Prison Abolition

If we are dedicated to higher education in prisons as a transformative practice and a tool for liberation work, we have to think about this work in tandem with mass incarceration and the abolition movement of prisons.

Because education can be such a means of empowerment, education is very much in the conversation about mass incarceration. Education is not a fix all. It is not the solution. But it can be an impactful part of the solution by providing humanizing spaces inside of a dehumanizing institution.

The goal of any good nonprofit is to work itself out of existence. So, I think that education in prison must be a tool to help dismantle the prison, to help abolish the prison. That doesn’t mean to hell with everyone who is incarcerated now and who works in prisons though. It is a more encompassing approach than that.

Any approach to abolition is going to have many different facets of which education will be a single part. Angela Davis comes to mind here and her words about abolition being the creation of something rather than just the destruction something. As educators, that concept should always be in the front of our mind.

We cannot just deliver a curriculum. We need to figure out how to take our students with us on an educational journey and equip them with the tools they will need well beyond the classroom. Not just how to write a paper or add a fraction, but how to tell your story, how to make an argument, how to do research, how to have a debate.

When I go into my classroom and teach, I never depart from that mentality. I try my very best to work in partnership with my students to empower and embolden them to use their own voices and prop themselves and each other up. They are the ones with the lived experiences. They are the ones who are the most impacted. As educators, we should be their enablers.

The frank truth is that not everybody agrees with this. Not everybody is going into their classroom to do this. And I can't change that. Nobody can. But the more people get involved who do have that mentality and the capacity to teach, the more meaningful our impact will be, the closer we will become to the goal.

I understand that there is a lot of weight behind these words and that because my job is to work in prisons many of my coworkers would not receive my opinions well. But this is what I believe. Education must be a tool for the broader goal of abolition of prisons. I don't think it'll happen in my lifetime, but one day, if there are no prisons, then there will be no need for higher education in prisons.

Find the Key and Set Them Free

Prisons are built out of sight so we can keep the people being held there out of mind. I would venture to say that our lock-them-up-and-throw-away-the-key mentality demonstrates that we are not supposed to think about people who are in prison.

I am glad that in recent years prison scholarship and activism is coming to the forefront so that people have to see it and listen. The more that we can empower people who are impacted to be part of the movement, the more likely people will have to reckon with these truths.

For people seeking to join this effort, take the time to find the people and organizations that have been impacted by our carceral system that are already doing valuable work. It's important to follow their lead when getting involved and understand that this is work should be done in community and in partnership.

Get involved, but do so with intention and caution. I don’t say caution because the work is hazardous, but because the work involves a lot of systems and people with conflicting viewpoints. It is important to consider that before and during the work. We need to think critically about the experience of the people who are incarcerated, as well as the dynamics between them and people who work at the facility.

People do a disservice to themselves and their programs when they don't think about how those dynamics are going to affect their work because they absolutely do. Anyone who wants to do this work needs to have a conversation and really talk through the assumptions that they have going into it.

Why are you going into this work? What do you hope to accomplish? How are you going to integrate yourself into this field in a way that is not oppressive or harmful? The reality is that there are people who do this work and cause harm. Many education programs, re-entry programs, religious programs go into these facilities and cause harm.

So, think critically about your positionality; put it all on the table. And don’t stop doing that. Only then can your good intentions become a strategy and your strategy a road to meaningful change.

Edited by Natalie Campbell; photos courtesy of Johnna Loreen

#Harvard #Harvard Divinity School #prison #incarceration #education #Religion #Christianity #large

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shirlleycoyle · 4 years

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It’s Time for the Eternal September to End

A version of this post originally appeared on Tedium, a twice-weekly newsletter that hunts for the end of the long tail.

For nearly 30 years, the internet’s culture has been defined by a corporation’s move that seemed to, without any care about what was left behind, ensure that a sense of order would never again drive the growth of this series of tubes.

This phenomenon is, in many ways, the central tension on which the modern internet is built. And it’s a tension that most people aren’t aware of, even though it is an undercurrent secretly framing our online interactions.

I am, of course, discussing the Eternal September, a 1993 move by AOL to allow its users into the free-for-all that is Usenet. In the decades since, the conflict that move created, although long forgotten today, lingers in the way that technical users and not-so-technical users interact.

And, in too many ways, it is the basis for digital conflicts that have nothing to do with back then and everything to do with right now.

It’s time to retire the Eternal September. Twenty-seven years is long enough.

“September 1993 will go down in net.history as the September that never ended.”

— Dave Fischer, a Usenet user, discussing the start of the Eternal September in 1993, the point at which the chaos created by mainstream interest in the internet began to overwhelm the early discussion forums that originally attracted technical users to computer labs on college campuses and pokey modem connections at homes.

At its root, perhaps we can blame AOL for all of this. Image: sarahe/Flickr

How the Eternal September set the stage for decades of online conflict

For decades, internet culture has struggled with the n00bs. For generations, as new people entered the digital gates, there was an inevitable sneer that awaited them as they hit the onramp.

If you’re not in the know, what do you know?

The internet is, of course, not alone in owning this dynamic. It plays out in all sorts of areas that traditionally have nothing to do with technology: High school, internships, sports teams, organized crime syndicates. The little guy knows nothing and has to work their way up. Most don’t. You get the idea.

But on the internet, we all technically should be on equal ground. After all, knowledge is at our fingertips at all times.

Yet tribalism has long defined the internet. We are built around subcultures upon subcultures, and these subcultures have only hardened over time, creating shells of insularity that have proven impenetrable.

And perhaps its most notable form came about in the mid-1990s, when the “Eternal September,” a concept involving the n00bs taking over Usenet, took hold. For those who don’t date back to this era, here’s the general gist: Each school year, thousands of new students would flock to Usenet groups for the first time, hoping to find community or learn from the folks already there. The problem was that they were green and didn’t really know much of anything, so they faced rejection until they got the gist.

In September of 1993, AOL added Usenet access, turning a controlled situation of steady ongoing community growth into something of a flood of never-ending n00bs. Suddenly, the social norms that the Usenet community was built around were broken at the seams, never to be repaired.

This was a major communal shift, and one that put early online users on the defensive. To put it simply, people were dismissive of their fellow users based on nothing other than the domain attached to their email address. It was an easy signifier; if you had an AOL.com email address, you were a dork, or beyond saving.

An essay on the commercialization of the internet, written in 1995 by MIT student Christopher R. Vincent, put the situation like this:

As accessing the Internet continues to grow easier for the novice user, it is inevitable that many of these social guidelines will fall to the wayside. This is not to say that new users should be denied access to Internet resources. It has been the first reflex in many newsgroups to flame any user who posted from an online service provider. Some of the larger providers, such as America Online have not received a very warm welcome to the network (note the formation of the alt.aol-sucks newsgroup). This reaction does not necessarily stem from elitism, but from a genuine fear that as more and more users appear, Usenet will fall apart. Indeed, this is a valid concern. The current system is not designed for the commercial-oriented direction the Internet is now taking.

Over time, the close association between AOL and lamers subsided, in part because our online access points evolved toward providers decided by local area, rather than consumer-oriented services.

So many flame wars fought over digital turf. Image: Anthony Cantin/Unsplash

But this dynamic of conflict and savvy emerged in other ways. When web-based communication alternatives emerged to replace Usenet, new types of turf wars appeared: Apple vs. Microsoft; open source vs. proprietary; Something Awful vs. Fark; Digg vs. Reddit; liberal bloggers vs. conservative bloggers; early adopters vs. technical laggards; iPhone vs. Android. You get the idea.

In many ways, these ideological battles of the digital age only found gasoline with the advent of social mediums, which helped to better connect people, but failed to account for the side effects that came with all that.

But the internet, early on, played into this tribalism in ways that allowed it to evolve into something dangerous.

“The newbies could not be forced to accept what we now understand as a central tenet of cyberlibertarianism: that cyberspace, too, was a place, separate from the world, and thus free. For it all to work, all the visionaries needed was for everyone to recognize a small set of self-evident truths.”

— Bradley Fidler, a researcher with the UCLA Computer Science Department, discussing in the IEEE Annals of the History of Computing the rise of what he calls the Eternal October—the understanding that “it is no longer possible to pretend (no matter one’s privilege) that cyberspace can circumvent the politics of civilization.” At the time he wrote this, it was October 2016, ahead of a U.S. election that helped bring some scary forces into the world. I can only imagine how Fidler must feel in October of 2020.

The calendar never stops. Image: Eric Rothermel/Unsplash

Why, in many ways, the Eternal September is still going strong

Look, I’m not going to tell you that we have a constant influx of newbies hitting the internet at all times. That certainly is not what I mean when I describe the Eternal September as an ongoing thing.

But I do think that the spirit that led to the Eternal September becoming a landmark in the first place is still very much there. It has simply taken new forms.

There’s a modern term for what this is called, in fact: Gatekeeping. The idea that, because of your identity or lack of experience, you shouldn’t have access to an online community.

Now, to be clear, there are lots of kinds of gatekeeping in terms of the internet—for example, the technical barriers created by large companies to shape the broader network, whether internet service providers like Comcast or Verizon, or major tech firms like Google or Facebook. Those figures deservedly need their callouts.

But in this case, I’d like to focus on a particular cultural kind of gatekeeping, the kind that leaves people out for reasons of elitism, fear, or simple “othering.”

Earlier this month, a great example of this type of gatekeeping emerged on Twitter when a user claimed that they assumed anyone who used a mouse to program was a junior programmer. That user (rightly) got criticized over it—though I’ll pass on linking the viral tweet, because who needs to add to that kind of drama? But examples that don’t get called out in quite that way abound online, and they represent the way that users tend to focus on their own tribes.

Back in 2017, before our world became even more divided, CBC News columnist Ramona Pringle wrote a piece about how digital tribalism has proven a nasty side effect of highly amplified online echo chambers:

In and of themselves, tribes aren’t inherently bad. We all long to be part of something bigger than ourselves, and tribes fulfill that need. But where we get into trouble is when we introduce borders, which separate my land from your land, and by extension, my tribe from your tribe. When borders are violated, we fight. This, in broad strokes is the root of all war.

The Eternal September, in many ways, was the opening salvo in decades of division on the internet. And in the years since, it has only gotten worse.

In many ways, we understand the people around us even less than we did a few years ago. We aim for the jugular instead of the handshake. And by the time the word “compromise” is thrown around, it’s already too late. It’s a sign of weakness.

It is perhaps sad to think about, considering the early internet was built around utopian dreams. But it’s where we are. I’ll let you draw the through line between ’90s programmer/IT elitism and some of the internet’s modern day problems, because ultimately all those programmers helped lay the foundation for today’s tech infrastructure.

I’m still idealistic that some of that utopian spirit is out there, if you know where to look. But I wonder if, in the big fight for protecting netiquette, the early internet set a bad example for all the people that came after, who jumped in not looking for help, but looking for a fight. The initial separation between the normal and the technical that the Eternal September fostered underlined the tribalism that other internet users follow without even thinking about it. It discourages people from taking part in communities—especially those underrepresented in STEM fields—and sows the kinds of division that attract users to misinformation.

And I wonder if the same types of users who criticized the n00bs way back when are the same folks who can help get us back—by setting an open-arms example that other communities can follow.

At a time when Godwin’s law is less an observation and more a genuine worry, perhaps there are bigger fish to fry than whether or not someone asked a technical question the right way … and those technical users might need to shift their plan of attack accordingly.

“We need to make sure that Rust is prepared to welcome people who are just learning about Rust today. We don’t want anyone to feel like they’re late to the party.”

— Tim McNamara, a software developer and writer who focuses on the Rust programming language, making a case for leaning into the Eternal September, as far as the Rust community goes. It’s a refreshing take from someone in a technical community, and an approach that others should follow.

So, you might be wondering: Why write about this topic, and why now?

Honestly, what got me thinking about it was one specific reaction to a recent piece I wrote about the mainstream demise of FTP. I aimed really broad with that piece, because honestly, that’s usually who I write for—someone who knows something about technology, but who doesn’t know everything and is curious about learning more.

Functionally, the point of my piece was that plain vanilla FTP is on its way out, a vestige of the past for the vast majority of people, thanks to its forthcoming removal from major web browsers. But there are people in narrow spaces who likely will never stop using it—or, who choose not to stop.

While I can get technical, I generally write for regular people who know a thing or two about technology but who, perhaps, aren’t engineers.

And well, this user was a technical user in a highly technical role. And they decided to mock it for not covering specific technical cases where it might persist, rather than spending five seconds considering that they may not be the target audience for this piece. Cockroaches are everywhere—you don’t have to tell me.

I’ve seen this with other things we’ve written as well. Last year, I ran a piece about OS/2’s continued use on the NYC subway system, and I spotted a reader who got upset because we focused on the obvious novelty of a vintage operating system being used in a high-profile way, rather than focusing on the low-level technical aspects that may appeal to that specific user but may go over everyone else’s heads.

I get it. You might get upset if you dive into this with the expectation that we’re going to talk about code or infrastructure on here, and that’s not what you get.

But the reason that technology content is often written more broadly is because, well, writers often want to open up the gates and encourage people to take a deeper look into tech. As much fun as it is to do a deep technical dive into the nuances of how a system is designed, there is a deep threat of losing people if you go too deep without explaining why they should care.

Tying back to our discussion of the Eternal September in this piece, I would also like to make a broader point: We have to figure out a way to bridge the gap between technical and non-technical users online. To pretend that there isn’t room to offer a helping hand, or that we can just focus on our own tiny bubble, just isn’t working anymore.

In September of 1993, well-established users who felt their territory was being encroached on by people who didn’t earn their place in the digital culture reacted by being inhospitable to those users.

It’s nearly three decades later, and in the years since, tech has very much won. Our world has been redefined by it, in ways large and small. And while technical corners can and should exist, we should no longer pretend that technical users have a monopoly on these stories.

And, honestly, given the way that technology has negatively affected the lives of so many, we need to do a better job explaining it to the average person, so they have a chance to grab a hold of the ways that algorithms define what we see online, or how automation might reshape our lives and careers, in ways good and bad.

The Eternal September is over. We’re well into October now. We need to open up the gates.

It’s Time for the Eternal September to End syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

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un-enfant-immature · 6 years

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Kaspersky starts processing threat data in Europe as part of trust reboot

Security firm Kaspersky Labs has opened its first self-styled ‘Transparency Center’ and begun processing threat-related data from European users in data centers located in Switzerland — flipping the switch on the start of a relocation commitment it announced late last year in the face of suspicion that its antivirus software had been compromised by the Russian government and used to suck up US intelligence.

The first stage of its fightback strategy to reboot trust, a code review plan, was announced a year ago.

Then, in May, the company announced it would be moving some core infrastructure processes to Zurich in Switzerland, saying also that it would arrange for its processes to be independently supervised by a third party qualified to conduct technical software reviews.

This facility has now begun processing data, starting with European users. Although this is just the start of the reconfiguration.

Software assembly will also move to Zurich in time — but not until phase two of the project, after processing for customers in other regions has also been relocated there.

It writes today:

From November 13, threat-related data coming from European users will start to be processed in two datacenters. These provide world-class facilities in compliance with industry standards to ensure the highest levels of security.

The data, which users have actively chosen to share with Kaspersky Lab, includes suspicious or previously unknown malicious files and corresponding meta-data that the company’s products send to Kaspersky Security Network (KSN) for automated malware analysis.

Files comprise only part of the data processed by Kaspersky Lab technologies, yet the most important one. Protection of customers’ data, together with the safety and integrity of infrastructure is a top priority for Kaspersky Lab, and that is why the file processing relocation comes first and is expected to be fully accomplished by the end of 2019. The relocation of other types of data processed by Kaspersky Lab products, consisting of several kinds of anonymized threat and usage statistics, is planned to be conducted during later phases of the Global Transparency Initiative.

By the end of 2019 the company has said the Zurich facility will be storing and processing all information for users in Europe, North America, Singapore, Australia, Japan and South Korea, with more countries slated to follow in future. Kaspersky is not exiting Russia entirely, though, as products for the Russian market will continue to be developed and distributed out of Moscow.

The Zurich Transparency Center will also provide authorized partners with access to reviews of Kaspersky code, and software updates and threat detection rules — as well as functioning as a secure location where governments and partners can come and ask questions and review documentation.

We’d wager journalists will also be invited on inspection tours.

Commenting in a statement, CEO Eugene Kaspersky claims: “Transparency is becoming the new normal for the IT industry — and for the cybersecurity industry in particular.”

“We are proud to be on the front line of this process. As a technological company, we are focused on ensuring the best IT infrastructure for the security of our products and data, and the relocation of key parts of our infrastructure to Switzerland places them in one of the most secure locations in the world,” he goes on, reiterating that the the intent of the Global Transparency Initiative is to increase “the resilience and visibility of our products”.

Which of course sounds a lot better than saying it’s responding to a trust crisis.

“Through the new Transparency Center, also in Switzerland, trusted partners and governments will be able to see external reviews of our products and make up their own minds. We believe that steps such as these are just the beginning – for the company and for the security industry as a whole. The need to prove trustworthiness will soon become an industry standard,” he adds.

Kaspersky says it has engaged “one of the Big Four professional services firms” to conduct an audit of its engineering practices around the creation and distribution of threat detection rule databases — “with the goal of independently confirming their accordance with the highest industry security practices”.

We’ve asked which third party has been selected to oversee the facility.

“The assessment will be done under the SSAE 18 standard (Statement of Standards for Attestation Engagements). The scope of the assessment includes regular automatic updates of antivirus records, created and distributed by Kaspersky Lab for its products operating on Windows and Unix Servers. The company is planning the assessment under SSAE 18 with the issue of the SOC 2 (The Service and Organization Controls) report for Q2 2019,” it further notes.

A year ago the security firm also announced a hike in its bug bounty rewards — saying it would now pay up to $100K per discovered vulnerability in its main Kaspersky Lab products.

Since then it says it has fixed more than 50 bugs reported by security researchers, claiming several were “acknowledged to be especially valuable”.

#TechCrunch

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lifeaftermeteor · 8 years

Text

New York, New York 205 December 20

Duo arrived at the apartment close to 20:00, breezing into the apartment shortly after Heero and Wufei themselves had gotten home. Heero greeted him at the door, his jacket abandoned and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows. They embraced briefly at the door and Heero could feel the cold radiating off the other man; the short walk from the subway station apparently sufficient time for the winter air to seep into the other man’s skin.

“You look like you just left the office,” Duo observed, giving him a once over as he kicked off his shoes in the entrance and followed Heero into the main living area.

“We did,” came the reply, in unison. Leaning back on the couch armrest, Heero added, “Our coworkers decided today was the last possible window to do any business before everyone leaves town. Wufei is heading back, actually. He refused to order take out from the office.”

“Because eating at your desk is the definition of detestable,” came the reply from the kitchen.

“Oh, what’s this bullshit? What do you mean you’re ‘going back?’” Duo asked, sounding utterly appalled his eyes searching out the apartment’s second occupant who had just appeared out of the kitchen, a hastily brewed cup of coffee in hand.

Wufei threw back the last of the mug’s contents and explained, “There’s a vid conference at ten. And a brief that precedes it. Both of which I have to be at.”

Duo winced and shook his head. “Sucks, man.”

Heero watched the two exchange quick words of apology and reassurance. He’d seen Wufei’s schedule while they were still at the office and suspected the man wouldn’t finally escape his duties until well after midnight. It was become a more common occurrence than he thought either of them had anticipated.

Duo followed Wufei back to the front door and Heero heard him threatening to give the Branch Director a piece of his mind if Wufei didn’t get downtime over the next two weeks. For a moment, the tension that had followed them back from work evaporated and Heero heard Wufei laugh at the threat. But then – with a word of goodbye – he disappeared out the door, leaving Heero and Duo to their own devices.

In the silence that followed Wufei’s departure, Heero watched Duo fidget near the entryway, apparently weighing whether to keep his distance. It was the first time they’d been alone together since that hurried kiss in the airport.

Seeking to defuse the sudden tension, Heero asked, “Hungry?”

He watched the anxiety evaporate as Duo grinned and sighed, “Starving.”

“Order in or do you want to go out somewhere?”

Duo considered this a moment before replying, “Out. I’ve been trapped in a plane so long my knees hurt, which is a feat—” he gestured widely at himself, acknowledging his slight stature, [1] “—so I’m up for a change of scenery if you are.”

Heero nodded and stood, already heading toward his room. “I know a place. Let me change and we’ll go.”

Heero led Duo across town and eventually down a side street lined with neon signs above and chalk easels below advertising nightly specials and fare that spanned the Earth Sphere. Turning into one building, they walked up a flight of stairs and into a Korean restaurant. Picnic tables and plastic chairs were packed into the small space, while flags and banners boasting colonial colors[2] ran the length of the ceiling to disguise the industrial infrastructure overhead. Two of the waitstaff saw them enter and one of them, who Heero knew to be the owner’s daughter, gave him a wide grin gestured to an empty table. She then disappeared into a back room.

No sooner had they sat down than the owner himself burst through the kitchen door and into the dining area, the door swinging violently in his wake. Kim Chung-Hee stood barely as tall as Heero himself, but made up for his short stature with a wild abandon rarely seen in men his age. His hair was graying at the temples, his waistline was growing with age, and he had the tendency to welcome wayward colonials with open arms. Heero knew—he was one such wayward colonial.

“Heero!” the man exclaimed, making short work of the distance that separated them and promptly embracing the younger man in a bone-crushing hug. Pulling away, he bombarded him with a flurry of Korean. “It’s been too long, boy—so good to see you. You look well. How’s Wufei? Who is this? Is he a friend or a ‘friend?’”

Heero opted to pick one of the multitude of questions to answer, pointedly ignoring the insinuation of the last. He gestured to Duo—who was watching the happenings with growing amusement—and answered in English, “Chung-Hee, this is Duo.”

The older man turned his attention on the newcomer and shook his hand emphatically. “Heero’s friends are my friends. Welcome, welcome!” And then clasped Heero by the shoulders again and held him close to his side as if he was presenting his own son to a possible suitor. The thought made Heero flush. “Good man,” Chung-Hee asserted. “Very good man.”

Duo’s eyes danced between them, an honest smile gracing his lips. “I know,” he assured the owner.

Heero felt his cheeks burn and grimaced even as another flurry of affection was thrust upon him. When Chung-Hee finally disengaged and disappeared back into the kitchen, Heero collapsed down into his seat and found he was not quite able to meet Duo’s steady gaze.

“So…despite being friends with Seo-yeon and all, I don’t actually know any Korean,” Duo told him, his tone light. “What was that all about?”

“I know him.”

“I gathered,” Duo said, sounding amused.

Heero collected his thoughts, his eyes drifting towards the kitchen. “Chung-Hee is from L1. [3] They moved down here post-conflict once transit routes opened up. He and his family got wrapped up into a frame job when he refused to pay protection money to the mob. Wufei and I – and the legal team – got him out of it.”

Duo looked as if he was about to ask after the circumstances but was brought up short when their waiter swung into earshot. They ordered quickly and sat back to wait. Still reeling from the reunion with the restaurant’s owner, Heero struggled to come up with something to discuss. Luckily, Duo saved him.

“So, other than saving colonial immigrants from Earth’s judicial system…how’s work?”

“Work’s fine,” Heero answered. “Busier now that Wufei is officially off the team.”

“How’s he doing with the new job?”

Heero shrugged. “He’s stressed.”

“It’s Wufei. He’s always stressed.”

Heero had to concede that point—it seemed to him that Wufei’s default setting was ‘high-strung.’ He had been surprised when the promotion was announced and at the time was unconvinced Wufei had in fact wanted the job. But after three months, his roommate seemed to be thriving on the work and responsibility…even if it did mean late nights at the office. “There’s something to be said for knowing your leadership trusts you not to blow up the eastern seaboard while they go skiing out west.”

Duo laughed. “Is that where your Branch Chief is? Leaving Wufei to serve as first runner-up, huh?” He sighed when Heero nodded in affirmative. “Is he going to get any time off?”

“He will, yes,” Heero assured. “He knows he’s technically hosting, not me. But he might be in and out depending on what’s happening at the office.”

“Sometimes I worry he’s going to burn himself out. Him and Quat,” Duo confided, leaning forward on the table with his arms crossed underneath him. “They’re rather bad at self-regulating.”

Heero considered this for a moment and then offered, “Well…that’s why everyone is coming, isn’t it? To reset before the new year enters in force?”

Duo met his eyes and grinned. “This is a vacation. You will have fun, dammit.”

Heero chuckled but before he could reply, their waiter returned with several banchan and the dishes they ordered. Meanwhile, Chung-Hee’s daughter trailed behind with several they hadn’t. As the two deposited the dishes on the table, the girl explained, “Appa [4] says it’s on the house.”

Heero groaned and protested, “You can’t let him do that.”

“You try arguing with him when he’s in a good mood,” she countered and flitted away before Heero could reply, leaving him flustered and silent.

Then Duo murmured, “I say we pay double and make a run for it when we leave.”

Heero turned to his companion and found his eyes full of mischief and conspiracy and something he couldn’t name. He relaxed and nodded, accepting the plan.

When the time came, they dropped a small mountain of cash and bolted out of the restaurant, occasionally stealing glances behind them to ensure Chung-Hee hadn’t run out after them. Heero didn’t truly begin to relax until they reached Bryant Park. Their strides slowed as they moved away from the street and wove their way through the Christmas Market. Shoppers bustled stall to stall before dispersing into the night, their breath coming in puffs of white clouds in the cold.

After a time, Duo broke the comfortable silence that had settled between them as they walked. “What do you want to do now?”

“We could go home if you’re tired,” Heero suggested, glancing up at the other man. Duo shook his head so he offered an alternative. “I know a place,” he began, hesitant, “but I haven’t been there in a while…”

“Why not?” Duo asked.

Heero shrugged, noncommittal. “It’s small, so not many people know about it…or want to go.” He thought of Jason’s disapproval and shook his head to dispel the toxic memories.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes. Quite a lot, actually.”

“Let’s go then,” Duo said. “Small, local, secret bar sounds pretty cool to be honest.”

Heero nodded and turned north, fighting the nerves that threatened to divert him with every step they took.

When they reached The Lighthouse, they hovered in the entryway while Duo took in the space before them. A bar on the far end, the top buffed till it gleamed. A cluster of patrons in the far corner. Walls heavy with NYC paraphernalia. Rainbow LED lights strung overhead. Bartender MIA. The dim room was as claustrophobic as it was intimate.

“Jesus, you weren’t kidding about it being ‘small,’” Duo hissed, clearly stunned. “How many people can fit in here? Maybe…fifteen, standing room only?”

Heero winced, feeling a knot form in his belly. “About that, yes…”

Duo shook his head in disbelief, but then a wide smile appeared on his face as his gaze bounded about the room. “I love it,” he said, his voice leaving no room for doubt. “Let’s grab a seat.”

But before they could move from their position by the door, a call went out from a new voice, “The prodigal son returns!”

From across the small space came Eve. The drag queen sashayed rather than walked toward them, her stilettos clicking on the floor as she turned the bar into her personal catwalk. Her makeup dramatic, her hair perfectly coiffed and curled.

Heero thought she was a sight for sore eyes. Eve had been the first to sense something was amiss with Jason and had done her best to take Heero under her wing. She had turned The Lighthouse into somewhere he could run to—if ever, whenever he needed it—and had sought to build his second family out of her own.

He was thus relieved when she drew him in for twin pecks on each of his cheeks. “Where have you been?” she demanded when they parted. “You have been missed in these parts.” She then turned her attention on Duo. “And who is this?”

“Eve, this is Duo—”

“Wait. The Duo?” she gasped and leaned in to plant a kiss on each of Duo’s cheeks. “You are most welcome, my dear. It’s a pleasure.” She then hooked her arm through Duo’s and led them to the bar along the opposite wall.

Duo chanced a glance over his shoulder at Heero, his eyes betraying his confusion and curiosity. Heero could only offer a reassuring smile as Eve deposited the two of them down at the bar and began introductions for the benefit of the new addition. Andrew the off-duty NYPD beat cop. Thinh the aspiring doctor who was about to complete his residency. Kane the quintessential starving artist.

Heero turned to Miguel—the upstart fashion designer—who was presently serving himself a refill from behind the bar and asked, “Where’s Darius?”[5]

“Ah, he went to pull some stuff up from storage,” the man answered, nodding his head to the other side of the room.

Heero thanked him and tapped Duo’s shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” he murmured and slid off his barstool. Duo’s eyes asked him questions but he nodded silently, turning his attention fully on the others with a wide grin. It was a defensive tactic Heero recognized. He made a note to make this quick.

But as he approached the STAFF ONLY door in the back, Darius emerged carrying a box full of bottles. Heero waited until the bartender had set the box down before making his presence known. “Hi Darius.”

The man started and spun on his heel to face him. “Heero!” he gasped, clutching his chest as he recovered from the surprise. Taking a step toward him, he placed both of his hands flat against the polished bar top that separated them and gave him a once-over. Heero let himself be studied and suppressed the shiver that raced up his back. He covered the response by stepping forward and crossing his arms over the bar. The last time he’d seen the other man it had been far more…intimate. He flushed at the thought.

As if reading his mind, Darius offered a reassuring smile. “You look good.”

“You too,” Heero acknowledged, nervously running a finger along the wood grain of the bar.

They shared an uncertain silence for a moment until Darius spoke again, his words echoing Eve’s. “We’ve missed you around here. I’m glad you’re back.” He glanced down the bar and nodded his head at the assembled group. Heero followed his gaze and found Duo surrounded by a growing crowd of patrons. It looked to him like the other man’s smiles were genuine now, but he couldn’t be sure with the distance. “Friend of yours?” Darius asked.

“Yes.”

“More than a friend?”

Heero hesitated. “Maybe.”

“Maybe?”

Heero shrugged and looked away. How they framed their relationship had yet to come up in conversation with Duo. Under the parameters of The Experiment, they were friends first and agreed not to discuss the new dynamic within the family. But what to call it…in the end, Heero settled on, “We’ll see where it goes.”

At this, Darius leaned close over the bar, his dark eyes boring into him. “Tell me this, Heero,” the bartender began. “Tell me that he’s kind to you. Tell me that he makes you happy. Tell me he’s a good man, and I’ll stop worrying about you.”

Heero took a breath to answer, but was cut off by a sudden burst of raucous laughter from the other end of the bar. He found Eve and Duo holding court over the rest of his friends, the two of them sparring in animated gestures and peals of laughter. Heero smiled.

Darius chuckled, drawing Heero’s attention. The man waved his hand as if to dispel his earlier questions. “Say no more. Let’s go check in on the lot of ‘em, shall we?”

[1] Point of order: LAM!Duo is short, slight, and usually rail thin. He’s never really been able to put on weight (despite his best efforts) and a childhood spent malnourished on L2 stunted his growth.

[2] Colonists have rallied for independence under different banners at different times. With growing frustrations with the ESUN leadership for their lack of action on self-determination for the last five years, a collective nationalism has taken root and colonists are displaying the flags and banners of past independence movements and separatist organizations more frequently.

[3] As a reminder to readers, L1 was built by the Pan-Asian Bloc which traces its roots to the Association for South East Asian Nations (ASEAN), the East Asian Summit (EAS), and to a lesser extent South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation (SAARC). L2 was built by the Western Hemisphere Trade Organization (which included all of North and South America), L3 was a team effort between the Eurasian Union (successor to the CE era’s EU) and African Union. L4 was the product of the Alliance of Middle Eastern States, with heavy financial backing of the Winner family. L5 was built by the Chinese Federation to house what it viewed as political radicals.

[4] Appa 아빠 = Dad

[5] Reminder: Darius and Heero hooked up after Heero broke up with Jason. Darius was the rebound.

#gundam wing #snippet saturday #heero yuy #duo maxwell #heero x duo #duo x heero

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