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#this process probably happening in less-than-ideal conditions
letitbehurt · 7 months
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When the healer or medic of the team is injured in a way that prevents them from doing what they’re good at, so they have to direct another team member to treat their wounds properly.
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grisailledreams · 11 months
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Please put the beauty industry on blast for often treating chronic incurable skin conditions and even stuff like mild temporary acne as things you can just ~solve~ by buying expensive creams/treatments, “drinking more water,” or “not being fat/dirty.” 🙃
OOOOOOOHHHHH MY GOD I WILL BLAST THEM ALL DAY FOR THIS.
Also Christ, I went through so many drafts of this because I just kept rambling because there is SO MUCH to say about this, way more than what I have here. Kristin and I have talked about this kind of thing S O much. Under a cut because it is LONG.
First and foremost: There are no skin conditions that come to mind that involve being fat or dirty. N O N E. As my instructor likes to say, "Did you rub dirt on your face? Then you're not dirty." I won't even elaborate on the fat thing because that's just ridiculous and honestly boils down to the same thing (because of course "Fat People are Dirty Sweaty Grease-Soaked Slobs"). Y'all wanna know what causes most of the common disorders?
Acne - Genetics/hormones, friction, or skin sensitivities. Congrats, you're really good at producing sebum, a vital component of your skin's protective barrier!
Keratosis Pilaris - Genetics, occasionally made worse by harsh exfoliation. Congrats, you're really good at producing keratin, the building block protein that makes up skin, hair, and nails!
Rosacea - Who the Fuck Knows, but the National Rosacea Society hypothesizes that it's either down to the way your immune and neurovascular systems function, serious systemic diseases (none of which are Obesity), or a species of mite that everyone has on their skin already.
Psoriasis - Immune disorder.
Eczema - Who the Fuck Knows, probably a combo of genetics and environmental factors.
HS - Who the Fuck Knows, but probably genetics/hormones.
All of these things have flare-ups or cyclic behavior, btw. Flareups can have a hundred causes, it just depends on the individual! Stress is common across the board, but it's far from the only one. What doesn't happen? Get breakouts or flare-ups by being Dirty or Fat or Eating Poorly. Your skin just Does Stuff. So many genetic disorders come down to "My skin makes More or Less of something than is ideal for my body" or "My body is Very Protective of me." Literally, every disorder pretty much comes down to genetics, illness, or Who the Fuck Knows (because there is not enough research being done on way too many disorders). And none of this is simply "fixed" or "cured" by throwing money at the problem, regardless of what anyone tells you.
Does a skincare routine make your skin feel good? Sure! Soft skin feels nice and might give your mental health a boost because you're doing something nice for yourself most days. Also you do a lot of blood flow stimulation in the process and that might make you feel a bit more energized. But if you have a disorder and you feel like you've Tried Everything to no avail, it is not your fault, either. Skin, entire functioning organ that it is, is so much more complex than a skincare routine makes it seem.
My biggest takeaway from this education has just been Bodies Do Stuff and Everyone's Skin is Different. If you have a skin disorder, including all the hundreds of disorders I didn't mention, you are not dirty or bad or gross. Your skin just Does Stuff and the Beauty and Wellness industries are really bad at saying, accepting, and teaching this - it doesn't make money, after all.
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onbearfeet · 2 months
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#29 and 77 from the "Get to know your fic writer" ask game. For #77 it's any of the Monster Mash stories
❤️
29. How do I edit/revise? Under ideal conditions (ha), I use a process I learned in grad school that I refer to as "polishing". I put my manuscript away for a while, then reread it and pay close attention to my reactions as a reader. Wherever I slow down, stumble, or lose interest, I know there's work to be done, at which point the overriding question becomes: Is this the absolute best thing that could be here? Can I think of anything better? And I go paragraph by paragraph, sentence by sentence, word by word until I'm out of better ideas. I think of it like polishing rocks in a tumbler--I do it until only a smooth, shiny stone remains. It's much easier with beta readers to mark the rough bits, of course, but I don't always have that, especially in fic. I also have kind of a half-assed version of polishing that I do on the fly (it's mostly a product of practice), and that gets applied to my fic a lot. Fic gets slightly less polishing attention both because I don't have betas and because I write it primarily for the serotonin, in which I'm chronically deficient. I want to get chapters out the door and collect my sweet, sweet comments.
77. I'm probably proudest of the central conceit in "Well Met By Moonlight", the idea that the monster in the cell isn't the werewolf but Bucky’s self-image. I love writing a good angsty wallow. But my actual favorite SCENE (so far) in Monster Mash is Ted cuddling wolf!Jack in the final chapter of "True Colors". I actually made myself sad writing that (well, sadder than my depression baseline). I knew going in that Jack and Ted loved each other in ways they weren't yet emotionally equipped to express--they both have a major case of the poor-me-no-one-will-ever-love-me blues. But as soon as the image of Ted curling himself around a ball of suffering werewolf popped into my head (it was NOT on my outline), I knew I needed to write it. NEEDED. It was scratching an itch in my soul that I hadn't realized was there. I've spent a surprising amount of time talking to my therapist about Monster Mash, and that scene will probably be the topic of next month's session. There's something about seeing Jack's less beloved side be physically and emotionally supported, and about seeing Ted regard that as easier (arm-gnawing and all) because there won't be consequences later for his kindness. I will say that again: Ted is powerful and unkillable, and yet he's afraid of what will happen if Jack ever remembers how much Ted REALLY loves him. And Jack, for his part, will only accept comfort when he physically can't reject it or he's out of his mind as the wolf. In other words, they're tragic dumbasses. Finally, I'm always a sucker for the "who you are in the dark" trope--the idea that what you do when you can't be perceived is a window into your true character. And it turns out that who Jack Russell is, when he gets out of his own way, is a wounded puppy who desperately wants to be accepted. And who Ted Sallis is, when he knows no one will see or remember what he does, is a nurturer. Maybe it's because I lived through the irony-poisoned 90s and the grim and gritty phase of post-9/11 media, but I think it's refreshing to have characters reveal their true selves and those true selves be gentle, or kind, or sweet, or good. The monsters have a secret, and it's that they're sweethearts.
I hope this ramble has been entertaining. 😂 I should totally make a mini-lesson on my polishing process.
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whiteheadlamb93 · 6 months
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girdlelynx0 · 2 years
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Dental Treatments Guidance That Anyone Can Use
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qckinetixsuperior2 · 2 years
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The Difference Between a QC Kinetix (Superior) Sports Injury Doctor and a Standard Provider
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dduane · 2 years
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(World-)Building John Watson
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...So some of you will have seen this start happening: in which I started to get into a Particular Kind of Trouble. (Story trouble. Sudden story trouble. In which you drop a jokey answer onto an amusing question, and suddenly discover that you’re going to have to write the novel that is the full form of the Jokey Answer.)
...O WOEZ. :)
...Well, I more or less immediately had some ideas that flowed from the Jokey Answer. (See the tags below, in which most of them are enumerated.) But ideas are easy—the very, very easiest part of storytelling. Ideas are ten a penny—as shiny as tinfoil, and about as robust. Building them into something with enough (story-)structural integrity to survive a decent amount of stress-under-plot? That’s another story altogether.
Anyway, let me remind you what the tags on this very basic project-idea looked like.
Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, The Cat Gap, The Giant Rat of Sumatra, space cats, space cats probably with blasters and starships, and sabertooths, probably I should to go bed now before CJ Cherryh comes after me, and as for the Sherlock Holmes connection, I can just see Jeremy Brett and Edward Hardwicke running down Baker Street at the head of a pack of space sabertooths, Make sure you have your blaster, Watson, sweet Thoth on his E-scooter but 2023 is starting to look crowded..., now with added steampunk
...You with me so far? 1895 Holmes & Watson vs. giant (space) rats. With the assistance of Giant Space Cats and other assorted sentients. The venue: not the usual 1895 London, but a cyperpunk-y, steampunk-y one. With interplanetary/interstellar travel, and some sort of expansion of Victorian(-ish) Britain into the outworld spaces.
...Nothing to do now but rationalize how we got there, and then set the characters down in it and turn them loose.
Let’s deal with the whole mid-Victorian megillah first. The surrounding world inevitably both creates and influences character, and one thing became immediately clear to me as I looked over the horizon (as it were) of this setting. I wanted to have fun here, and I really did not want to be constantly having to look over my shoulder at the 17th- and 18th-century histories of British colonialism and slavery. “So,” I said to myself, “what do you do to a (planetary) society so that you come out in the mid-1890s with enough science to support the cyberpunk and steampunk parts of the setting, but also with entirely different results from the British Empire’s aggressive colonial tendencies and the slave trade(s) of the 15th through 17th/18th centuries? Ideally with the result that their worst effects are either derailed early, or very significantly mitigated...”
Solving a problem like this presents various challenges. (And “solving” is no more than an approximate term. A problem of such complexity is never fully solved; it always throws up new problems of its own. But that’s okay.) ...What I usually do in a situation like this is look for a suitable “hinge period” during which several potentially useful conditions overlap in a kind of co-reinforcing Venn diagram. Then all that’s needed is to find the best year (or years) in which to make the necessary change. After an hour or so of consulting various history sources and deciding what conditions needed to be in place, I found my year (in this case, it looks like it’s 1690). Hint: one statue standing in front of Westminster Hall is not of Winston Churchill, but Sir Isaac Newton... 
(A reminder here, BTW: this public working-through of process is not a solicitation of suggestions for possible alternate solutions. I’ve got the one I need. Thanking everybody in advance, as I have no desire to have to lock down my ask box or take other similar precautions to prevent myself seeing things that will expose me legally...)
...Anyway. By 1895, this seriously-adjusted Britain is societally, culturally and technologically a very different place from the one that appears in the canonical works of Arthur Conan Doyle; and I’ve got a good sense of why. So now I can turn, with much better informed intention, to character history and design.
Holmes... Holmes is fairly straightforward, as I see him. I’ll be dealing with adjustments to his character design in the days to come. But John Watson is more of a priority for me right now.
Here’s the man as we first glimpsed him when this set of ideas hit me, in the first-draft “mess dress” version of an armored warrior’s under-armor synsuit.
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...I started having Thoughts about this initial concept about five seconds after I posted it: and the first of these was "Gods but I'm a lazy b*tch." Because when I was in the white heat of thinking about the characters for the first time, I simply grabbed somebody who happened to be standing around in the same shot, cloned him, pulled the clone’s clothes off, gave him a shave and a different hair style, and shoved him into the suit to see how it'd work with the first kinda-blond guy who walked by. (And it’s entirely possible that some people may have noticed this.) :)
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(chuckle) It would be safe to say that his Grace the king of Arlen has had a lot worse in his last few years of personal timeline than a minor case of bodyjacking. ...But hooking his body to the John Watson character was never going to be more than a temporary measure, as I insist on character faces being unique if I’m going to work with them in any depth. Freelorn’s the only one who gets to use the almost-undifferentiated version of Daz’s Gianni 7 figure in the long term.
As I started hunting for John’s more permanent face, other thoughts started impinging. In my head I started lining up armored-suit-talent!John and cyber/steampunk!Sherlock in potential cover shots, and immediately some part of my brain rolled its eyes and said to me, “Oh great. Two white guys again. So tell us: why exactly? And is it just possible you’re missing an opportunity or so here?”
...Fair question. I sat with that for a bit. And as the new background-world started sorting itself out and slotting its pieces together, it became plain that there was already one fairly straightforward option for not going that way. After all, a lot of people of Afro-Caribbean heritage—in our timeline, and in this new one—have either Scottish names, or Scots ancestry, or both. (In that timeline, of course, the reasons for this are going to be much different.)
So: Dr. John Watson... war hero, specialist surgeon for suit soldiers in the field (and sometimes also for their armor, since the two are routinely intimately interconnected); commissioned officer and (now semi-retired due to injuries suffered in battle) “suit talent” in Earth’s interplanetary-defense force, the High Guard.
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The chance to change things up a little on the basic character concept is welcome... and not just in terms of personal heritage. We’ve had a lot of attention on tall Sherlock/short John pairings of late. Seems like a good time to reverse that polarity and see how it plays. :) (For those who’re curious: the figure I’m presently using for Sherlock is supposedly about 6′2″. The new figure I’m using for John looks to be, in this version, about 6′5″-ish at the very least.)
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...I’m finding this prospect intriguing for another reason: as a physical symbol of an old perception of mine regarding this team—that John, despite the various damages he’s suffered before meeting Sherlock, is not only the most interesting one of the pair, but the most powerful. (Cf. @earlgreytea68​’s recent post here.) Both as POV character (and the lens through which we normally view Sherlock) and as his enabler and stabilizer—the one who “keeps Sherlock right”—no matter how dynamic and charismatic and wildly deductively intelligent Sherlock is, it’s John who (in Canon) can be seen to quietly hold him steady and grounded in a (personal/psychological) place where he can actually reliably do good. More recent takes on the characters reinforce this trait.
In brief, John Watson (as I see him) is nobody’s sidekick. Yes, Sherlock supplies things in his life that John lacks, exactly as John does for Sherlock—this being part of what makes their relationship so durable. But as I see it, that situation serves to make John more powerful, and more himself... not less so.
...Anyway. These characters’ takes on the immemorial tropes will start sorting themselves out as this project goes forward. At least things are rolling now...
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hazard-and-friends · 3 years
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i see so many people turn up in forums and say “i’ve tried everything with my reactive dog, can i use an ecollar now??” and first of all, what were you doing, looking for an excuse?, but second of all, let’s talk about that “everything” and how you’ve “tried it”.
if we’re working with reactivity (vague), aggression (even more vague), barky-lungey (better!), or just plain frantic dogs, we’re working with a dog with HUGE FEELINGS. they might have huge feelings about other dogs, about people, about non-dog-non-human-animals, about the world at large, about cars, about bikes, whatever.
but all of this boils down to they don’t like their distance from some Thing, and they want to get far away (fear-based, some forms of defensive aggression) or get up close and personal (over excitement, the rest of defensive aggression, prey drive). (occasionally they want to get up close and personal in order to make sure that they can get far away, which is fear-aggression and it’s a bastard.)
so: big feelings, gotta move about it.
in very very short, when training dogs you can either work on their thinking brain (operant conditioning, cause-and-effect learning) or their emotional brain (classical conditioning, associative learning). when training BIG FEELING dogs, sure you can settle for operant conditioning and teaching them that despite their BIG FEELINGS, they’ve still got to behave in polite society and not sing the song of their people about the lab across the street. for some dogs, this is all you have to do, because if you smile you get happier, you teach your dog to behave in a relaxed manner, they become more relaxed.
except that won’t always work. i have ptsd and had a therapist tell me to be less scared of new situations, which went over like a lead balloon. some dogs are not capable of behaving in a relaxed manner until they are genuinely relaxed.
and all of this is just setting the stage for my actual point here which is: changing emotions? is a long fucking process.
if you come into a forum and say you’ve tried everything and you’ve had the dog for four fucking months, my response will be “how many methods did you try and how long did you try each method for” and if the answer is not “at least 3 weeks for each of them” i will tell you to go back and try again, do not pass go do not collect $200.
i say 3 weeks for 2 reasons.
1, because in humans it takes at least 3 weeks to make a new habit and longer than that to break old ones, so why the fuck would we cheat our dogs of that time? slow down and put in the goddamn work.
2, because 3 weeks is enough time for a trainer to get something done with you. the first session is establishing the foundations, clearing up your misconceptions about how learning happens, and generally making sure nobody will get hurt in the next week. the second session is where the trainer goes through their toolbox to find the best setup for this dog and this owner. and the third session is where they find out if it’s working and adapt. so if after all that, you are not seeing improvements, something needs to change. the method, the trainer, a vet consult, something. but 3 weeks is enough time to see change, and if the trainer can’t see it, it’s not there.
(a sidebar: i also heard about 3 weeks to see change in a separation anxiety forum, where separation anxiety trainers use it as the litmus test to refer for medication. that’s 3 weeks of training, each week has 5 sessions, each session is 20-30 minutes. 6 to 7.5 hours of training. something should change by this point, and if it’s not, and you’re following the subthreshold method, something is never going to change without pharmaceutical intervention.)
okay so: 3 weeks. if you just got the dog in [spins wheel] june, that’s 3 weeks to decompress. 3 weeks to try BAT 2.0. 3 weeks to try CAT. 3 weeks on click to calm. and 3 weeks to work on control unleashed. that’s 15 weeks since the dog came home, or a week from today, give or take. and that’s just the methods off the top of my head, i’ve got 2 or 3 more on my bookcase. you’re probably looking at 6 months of dedicated work (with a week or two for personal time), bare minimum. if you really want to do it right, add time between each method for decompression.
and if you’re going “but julis the dog BIT my NEIGHBOR’S KID I CAN’T HAVE THIS HAPPENING FOR THE NEXT 6 MONTHS” you’re right! you can’t!
put a muzzle on the dog (train it first, ideally). get a DO NOT PET vest (for the dog AND you). if the dog pulls you down, work through the anti-pull devices. rent sniffspots. go walking at 10 pm. drive into the woods to walk. do nosework in the backyard or closest grassy area (aka: scatter treats there). put a muzzle AND an anti-pull device AND a backup harness AND a chain leash if you’re really worried. get a (very very good) friend and have them get people out of the way for you. talk to a vet for medications earlier rather than later.
but these are all management, not training. training is slow. training is slow, and boring, and has these tiny amazing moments where you go HEY MY DOG JUST MET A HUMAN WITHOUT GROWLING and then realize that you sound absolutely insane to anyone else.
dog training doesn’t involve quick fixes. quit asking for them.
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into-daylight-hope · 3 years
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If clones are slaves, then Jedi are involuntary servants
The term "involuntary servitude" means a condition of servitude in which the victim is forced to work for the defendant by the use or threat of physical injury or by the use or threat of coercion through law or the legal process.
Lucas confirmed Jedi were drafted into war. My guess is individuals probably were not forced but it was mandatory for the order. Which would mean if a Jedi refused to join the GAR they wouldn't be allowed to continue as a member of the order. And leaving your culture, family, ideals, way of life, dedicated profession is not really an option. It's not free choice if the other option is worse than death. Just a fabrication.
Clones undoubtedly are in a terrible, even worse situation but Jedi are also in a horrible position.
They are not real world generals. They don't sleep in silk beds or have feasts in the evening. They fight in the frontlines like a regular clone. They don't put their man in more danger than they put themselves. ( Not that they have any say in what happens to clones. That's the Senate.) They have the force but that also makes them attempt way more dangerous moves to protect people.
Really, what kind of general would fight in the frontlines? Not one with much influence. A soldier with a mildly high rank wouldn't fight there. Much less a general. They are still one mortal perishable person, they couldn't be changing the course of battles that much.
It is pretty clear Jedi are seen as useful but expendable tools by the Republic.
I would also like to remind for all their high ranks Jedi are not actually in charge of the whole war strategy. They only plan local tactics in battles assigned to them. They don't choose which battles or when they will engage.
What privilege are people even talking about?
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onesunofagun · 3 years
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I shall now yell about Ingo, please stand by:
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Ingo’s transformation from the underappreciated backbone of the ranch to an absolute ruff-wearing cantaloupe of a man is also pretty interesting (if you’re the kind of person who absorbs the Zelda series through your skin like a frog to live).
I’ve bolded the key points for skimmers.
Granted, the manga has it that Ingo just gets brainwashed by Twinrova into being a staunch follower of Ganondorf. That’s not canon, but it’s not informing any of this thinking, either way. 
In the beginning of OoT we meet Talon by waking him up from a nap, and we learn pretty quickly that he’s lazy and often yelled at by his daughter for slacking off like this. Ingo at the ranch confirms again that Talon doesn’t pull his weight around there, and since Malon’s still a child, it’s pretty obvious that Ingo’s settled with the bulk of the work.
Ingo is grumpy, he’s resentful, and he complains a lot. But he does do the work, and you can find him (presumably) in the process of mucking out the stables. 
Let’s examine what he does at the ranch:
Epona really liked that song... Only I could tame that horse... Even Mr. Ingo had a hard time...
Now, Epona is established in game to be a real winner of a horse. She’s fast, she’s smart, she’s got a lovely sorrel coat and white mane that seems to be quite rare or highly prized coloring. The catch is, she is notoriously wild. The only people she tolerates are Malon and Link, due in large part to being soothed by the song Malon’s mother taught her.
Ingo had to really try to crack this horse, which Malon’s observation suggests is unusual. 
Epona is very young when we first see her, so it’s never really revealed if she was caught wild, or bred at the ranch with a very headstrong temperament.
Ingo’s clearly the guy that’s breaking them in, though. The most Talon is doing is... sleeping in with the cuccos. We never see any organisation of the cuccos, in terms of egg collection or poultry farming, but nevertheless, Talon has the much less physical jobs even if he was doing them. His focus seems to be cuccos, deliveries to the castle and book keeping between naps (and to be fair it’s probably a little depression related, given the dead wife).
Malon gives us a cow later on, and she’s got the egg for the crowing cucco that wakes up Talon, so I’d like to assume for simplicity’s sake that even as a kid, Malon was up at dawn most days helping Ingo with the cows and milking them. It’s never really implied that she has amazing skill in dealing with horses, just that Epona has a special connection with her specifically. Other than that, Malon is simply kind and respectful of her animals (though I’ve got no idea how she got that cow to Link’s treehouse and that’s worth investigating). 
Later on, Ingo is also shown to be a competent rider. Enough that he has absolutely no qualms in challenging Link to races for wagers, and was quite confident of his ability to win.
The takeaway is, Ingo is usually VERY GOOD with both caring for and training horses, if not breeding them for the ranch.
That kind of lends to his grumbling, when he is referring to himself as ‘the Great Ingo’ and comparing himself to Talon, who is a ‘bum’. His claim to greatness may not be undeserved, at least in horse circles, and especially if he’s not getting particular credit for it, his bitterness and frustration (alongside envy, exhaustion, and dreams of recognition) would be quite deeply run.
So it seems that his friend and employer is clearly taking some advantage of him, especially after the death of Malon’s mother.
So now, let’s examine his feelings, and how he changes.
The feelings Ingo has about that are pretty textbook for the sort of thing ‘evil takes hold of and twists’, in the Zeldaverse.
Focussing on the game itself, Malon says this as an adult:
Since Ganondorf came, people in the Castle Town have gone, places have been ruined, and monsters are wandering everywhere. Mr. Ingo is just using the ranch to gain Ganondorf's favor... Everyone seems to be turning evil...
We do see other characters in Hyrule become influenced by the ‘darkness in their hearts’ as byproduct of Ganondorf’s reign. 
A prominent example of a character who was visibly dissatisfied with their lot, and then notably changes (while praising Ganondorf for what he’d done), is the Castle Guard who is heavily implied to have become the Poe Dealer. Even if by some slim means it’s not the same person, the Poe Dealer does still express that they could not do the work they do without Ganon as King, and that they now benefit from him being in that position and are grateful to him.
The Kakariko Carpenters seem to have given into their fantasies about living among the Gerudo women, and gone out to the Valley and gotten themselves taken prisoner. Following work near the fortress, the team chooses to act on their selfish desires and go for broke, chasing their dreams. They weren’t previously prepared to act upon these fantasies when Link was young, admittedly much milder in their still very prominent obsession, but seven years later, they’re quite happy to risk it all and piss away the stability of their careers (and nearly their lives) at the first opportunity.
Anyway, the trend is, those across Hyrule who are unhappy with their lot before Ganondorf’s coup tend to be ‘corrupted’ by seven years later, and appear to have given in to a twisted version of whatever they most wanted. 
This is noteworthy especially because the language in the game revolves around the Sacred Realm being opened and corrupted, too, by Ganondorf’s unbalanced heart and selfish goals. It is unable to be ‘sealed’ again while Link has the Master Sword. In aLttP, we know there is a mirror like effect to do with the sacred turned dark realm, in which it reflects the hearts of men. 
So it is very reasonable to say, that for OoT in particular, much of this evil influence plaguing the land and preying on the darkness an people’s hearts is a result of the corruption of the Sacred Realm. It is an indirect byproduct of Ganondorf’s acquiring of the Triforce, but not necessarily something he himself does to people on purpose, unlike the brainwashing of Nabooru.
Mr. Ingo is just using the ranch to gain Ganondorf's favor... But Dad... He was kicked out of the ranch by Mr. Ingo... If I disobey Mr. Ingo, he will treat the horses so badly...
This explains a lot of the more callous and greedy behaviour that Ingo shows later on, and why it seems to disappear when he is truly humbled by Link. 
Link’s win serves as a reminder of Ingo’s stagnating skill with horses, the very thing that made him feel so deserving of praise and recognition in the first place, in that for everything he now has control of at the ranch, he still cannot control that horse. He has become as much of a bum as Talon ever was, relegating Malon to do all the hard work while Ingo struts around uselessly. He’s even lost his touch with the Horses so much, in his arrogance, that now he has taken up mistreating them and using harsh and abusive methods (according to Malon’s concerns).
The humiliation and shame takes hold, his pride shattering with the loss of Epona-- not only as a valuable asset, but also as the horse he could never truly tame.
The dark feelings he was holding onto are let go of, as he regains a sense of humility, and the corruptive influence upon him dissipates. He even seeks out Talon to bury the hatchet and invite him back to the ranch.
Oh, I have to tell you about Mr. Ingo... He was afraid that the Evil King might find out that Epona had been taken away... It really upset him! But one day, all of a sudden, he went back to being a normal, nice person! Now my dad is coming back...I can't believe it, but peace is returning to this ranch!
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But what about his obsession with Ganondorf in particular?
When the coup happened, Ingo watched the King of the Gerudo unwittingly play out a sort of grand parallel to what Ingo felt should happen on the ranch. To Ingo’s perception, I think Ganondorf was representing an ideal version of Ingo himself. 
A man of the desert, where hard work and grit are as second nature to survive the harsh conditions. A man frustrated with the King of Hyrule’s shit, and forced to swear fealty to him despite being a King himself. A man resplendent with wealth, with fine and flashy clothes and plentiful jewelry.
And perhaps the most important note of all, the Gerudo in OoT? 
They’re horse people. 
They love horses. Ganondorf’s horse is reputed to be a purebred Black Gerudo Stallion, which is obviously a specialty breed, that is fully armoured and as flashy as he is. When the Gerudo cut the bridge leading to the valley, the only way in and out is to have a skilled horse jump the gap. 
They also have a huge horseback archery range, and prowess in the sport is an incredible source of respect amongst the Gerudo, and many of the guards possess bladed polearms suitable for mounted use. From this, it can be assumed that during the recent civil war, Gerudo weapons, war tack and military tactics were probably built around mounted cavalry archers foremost, with a lesser focus on light and heavy cavalry aside (iron knuckle armour springs to mind).
Anyway, Horses are very important to the Gerudo in the era of Ocarina of Time.
So Ganondorf is also unique in the sense that he is the King of a people who value what it is that Ingo does very highly. He, of all people, stands to immediately recognise the knowledge and skill that Ingo possesses in rearing horses.
So this is a man who successfully stages a coup of Hyrule, who clearly inspires Ingo to do much the same of the ranch, and who Ingo also feels is very likely to take his side should he appeal the matter.
And Ganondorf does.
And if that’s not a great compliment to Ingo’s actual skill, I don’t know what is, because Ganondorf is not a man that suffers fools. He’s got a limited patience when it comes to shit that is beneath his notice. Clearly, he recognises that Ingo is indeed the backbone of that ranch-- and the main reason for the quality of its Horses-- and rewards this accordingly.
And for Ingo, being on decent terms with the big scary goth King is a very, very good place to be. But it’s more than that!
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What a guy! Not only did he deliver on Ingo’s long due validation, he gave Ingo everything he’d ever dreamed of having to his name, and the authority to kick Talon to the curb. He gets it! Ganondorf, this great eight foot beacon of freshly sought divine power and topaz-encrusted glory, this absolute unit of a man, this great underdog horse-lover after Ingo’s own heart; he really understands how great Ingo is. Ganondorf is paving the way for people like them! Oh, to rub shoulders wiht such greatness when the rest of Hyrule is scorned. 
Ingo feels seen. The Great Ganondorf made all that thankless time spent shovelling horse shit while Talon slept mean something. The Gerudo appreciate Ingo’s talents.
And all Ingo has to do is keep turning out really good horses, and promise to present the King with his finest.
So Ingo knows he’s in deep shit when he gets cocky and loses Epona to a wager, who at this point, he’s prepared pretty well and sunk a lot of money into on the idea that she’s going to Ganondorf. 
Who he’s probably bragged to about how fast she is.
He lost her to some jerk in tights who’d barely ridden before, too. And then when Ingo tried to cheat him out of the win, the kid jumped the damned fence an in ass-bustingly cool move that really just drove home how excellent and rare Epona was.
One does not promise the King of the Gerudo a fast horse and then fail to deliver, let alone for such a stupid reason.
Honestly, by the end, the man’s just happy to be alive.
Also I’d like to think he and Talon had a much fairer delegation of work and forgave each other, each really learning to appreciate what they have and what’s really important.
how the fuck did the Kokiri leave the forest for this scene anyway, they don’t even have their faries???
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mysticstronomy · 3 years
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MULTIPLE SUPERNOVAS MAY HAVE IMPLANTED OUR SOLAR SYSTEM WITH THE SEEDS OF PLANETS!!
Blog#117
Wednesday, August 25th, 2021
Welcome back,
A nearby star-forming region may explain the mystery of tiny grains from beyond the solar system.
A wave of exploding stars may have provided the conditions required to build the solar system. 
New research probing a nearby star-forming region examines conditions that may have been similar to those found in the early solar system to try to solve the outstanding mystery of how radioactive elements essential to planet formation arrived in the environment around the sun. The new finding concludes that such particles are common in star-forming regions, suggesting that the processes that formed the solar system are readily available throughout the galaxy.
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Scientists used the tiny clues of some of the first solid material that condensed from the cloud of dust surrounding the newborn sun, material that later built the planets. A key ingredient here is aluminum-26, an element built inside of stars and one that has a relatively short lifetime of roughly 100,000 years. Because the first planets likely took a billion years or so to form, this element's presence suggests a nearby source.
By observing the conditions found in the nearby star-forming region Ophiuchus, scientists have determined that the most likely source of aluminum-26 for our solar system is a series of nearby supernovas, rather than a single fortunate event.
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"Most of the work on understanding the source of aluminum-26 and other short-lived radionuclides in the solar system has, by necessity, been quite idealized," John Forbes, an astronomer at the Flatiron Institute in New York City and lead author of the new research, told Space.com by email. "Ophiuchus offers us a real example for how this may play out, which is extremely useful when dealing with such a complex process."
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Death to life 
The researchers hunted aluminum-26 by focusing on calcium-aluminum rich inclusions (CAIs), which are submillimeter-sized grains found in meteorites. Planets form when material left over from the birth of a star condenses into smaller clumps. CAIs provide a substantial source of heat during planetary formation, drying out worlds and reducing the amount of water that survives. But where did these tiny fragments come from?
Aluminum-26 is one of many metals produced in the fiery heart of massive stars. When the star goes supernova and explodes, it spreads its innards across the nearby galaxy. Theoretically, a single supernova could be the source of all of the aluminum in the solar system. However, according to Forbes, current estimates for the aluminum yield of supernovas just aren't high enough most of the time to explain our solar system.
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"For certain masses of stars that go supernova, enough aluminum-26 is produced, but because of the rapid decay of aluminum-26, that supernova would have had to happen extremely recently and be in the right mass range," Forbes said. "It's possible, but not probable."
Ophiuchus is a typical star-forming region located near the solar system; right next-door to it is cluster rich in massive stars. Giant stars are short-lived compared to the extensive life of the sun: a star 8 times as massive as our own will live for only 40 million years, compared to the sun's 10-billion-year lifetime. This mortality makes them bad neighbors, as they can heat up gas in nearby planet-forming regions, destroying planetary cores and disks in the process. But giant stars balance this planetary interference by sharing a ready supply of aluminum-26 when they explode, material that can aid in the formation of planets.
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By studying Ophiuchus and its neighboring massive stars in multiple wavelengths, Forbes and his colleagues determined that the disks that would eventually form newborn stars in Ophiuchus would most likely be inundated with aluminum-26 from their dying neighbors. Because Ophiuchus is a typical star-forming region, with nothing that marks it as significantly different from most, this suggests that most stars, our sun included, receive a flood of aluminum-26 from their neighbors before they are born.
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The team also looked for Wolf-Rayet stars, which are more than 20 times as massive as the sun and have also been considered as potential donors of aluminum-26. Wolf-Rayet stars produce extremely strong winds, especially as they near the end of their lifetimes. These winds strip the stars of their surface material, which includes aluminum-26, and blow it into the neighborhood. According to Forbes, it is possible for a single Wolf-Rayet star to produce enough aluminum to account for the material found in the early solar system.
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When they studied the star-forming region of Ophiuchus, however, the team found no Wolf-Rayet stars to seed aluminum to its neighbors. "One could have died in the past million years but compared to a handful of supernovas going off in that time, it's just less likely," Forbes said.
The new research has important implications for understanding the early solar system.
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"The finding that aluminum-26 is going to be readily available to some forming planetary systems is very exciting," Fred Ciesla, a planetary scientist at the University of Chicago, told Space.com by email. Ciesla, who was not part of the new research, studies early solar system formation and how CAIs contributed.
"Given the many roles that aluminum-26 played in the formation of our solar system, this means those same processes may have operated in other planetary systems," Ciesla said.
SOURCE: www.space.com
COMING UP!!
(Saturday, August 28th, 2021)
“WHAT IS 'EINSTEIN RING'??”
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nevertheless-moving · 3 years
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Suicidal Misunderstanding AU Part V (SW Time Travel AU #27)
Part I - - - - -  Part II - - - - - Part III - - - - - Part IV 
After a meandering walk through what felt like every path the hanging gardens and marsh pools had to offer, Obi-Wan stopped to lean against a stone wall. 
“Obi-Wan? Are you ready to stop and eat something? As nice as this has been, I’m getting hungry and I’m guessing you are too.” 
Anakin was only being a little sarcastic. It had genuinely been nice to peacefully spend the day with Obi-Wan like this- they hadn’t been to the marsh habitats since the war started. He had resigned himself to watching Obi-Wan enthusiastically greet every wandering knight, master, and elder who they passed. 
It was actually starting to become impressive- Anakin never realized how many members of the Order his Master was friendly with- no wonder he was given a seat on the high council! But after the last heartfelt clasping of hands with a completely unfamiliar Bothan (thankfully for Anakin’s petty jealousy, Obi-Wan wasn’t hugging everyone), Anakin had asked who the knight was.
Obi Wan frowned. “No idea. But I suppose I must have seen him somewhere.” 
Anakin was no longer feeling impressed.
When a group of crechelings wandered by, Obi-Wan appeared briefly overwhelmed with emotion. His shields (apparently even better drunken than sober) didn’t let anything specific slip. But he knew Obi-Wan was feeling something intensely. Bizarrely, instead of saying hello, Obi-Wan hurried out and away with Anakin dragged behind, bringing them back to the stone wall and their skipped breakfast.
“Not yet.” Obi-Wan responded hoarsely. “I want to visit the Room of A Thousand Fountains first, and say a few more goodbyes.”
“Goodbyes?” Anakin asked, a slight chill running down his back. “We’re not shipping back out until the end of the week. Do you always say goodbye to everyone this thoroughly before redeployment?”
“No. Do you think I should have?” Obi-Wan frowned. “I feel like that would have been more upsetting than anything else.”
“Ok then, why are you saying goodbye now? To the whole order?” 
Obi-Wan didn’t reply, he just pushed off the wall to continue on his quest to apparently visit every corner of the temple.
“Master, please, you’re worrying me. If you won’t eat, then let me take you to the Healing Halls so they can check you over for drugs. We can visit the fountains after.”
Obi-Wan finally paused, thinking that over. “I would like to see Bant. She should be there, right?”  
Bant did end up being there, and was more touched than disturbed by Obi-Wan’s sincere joy to see her. While Obi-Wan wandered the halls greeting injured Knights, she ran several tests.
“As far as I can tell, all you had last night was human-appropriate alcohol. No force-user specific drug interactions, and no traces of Spice. It’s possible there’s something I missed, but your force presence doesn’t feel off balance in the manner I specifically associate with drug-induced altered perception. Your blood sugar is a little low and you’re somewhat dehydrated, especially considering you’re in the temple, not out on a mission.”
“I’ll take care of my physical needs after I visit the Room of a Thousand Fountains. Just because a vision isn’t purely induced by the force doesn’t mean I can’t draw meaning from it. I do appreciate how you always looked out for me though, Bant. I’ve missed your fussing.” Obi-Wan smiled, clasping one of her hands in his.
Bant sighed, “If Master Yoda wasn’t off world I’d urge you to talk to him. I haven’t seen you this shaken by a vision since we were younglings. Even if you do seem to be handling it fairly... calmly.” 
Obi-Wan laughed. “I’ll tell him you said that someday. I might be wrong, but I think he’ll be happy to learn about-” Obi-Wan gestured around vaguely, “all this. I’ll talk to him at some point. I’m sure of it.” 
She glanced over at Anakin, who had been a quietly looming shadow the whole visit. He seemed both relieved by the diagnosis as well as bewildered. “Can I speak to you privately?”
Obi-Wan nodded and Anakin stalked out of the test room. 
She scrutinized him, worry more obvious now, “Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slipping tenses this whole time. You’re still not sure where your vision ends and reality begins, are you? Do you even know when you are?”
Obi-Wan looked down. “I know what’s real and what’s not. I’m just...enjoying not fully living in the moment. I have every intention of waking up.”
“Yeah, that’s a BIG red flag, Obi-Wan. Force.” She tilted her head back and forth, examining him with obvious concern. “I am scheduling an appointment for a soul healer and you are going to go, understand?” She demanded.
Obi-Wan agreed far too easily. She reluctantly let him leave with an earnest promise to eat something real.
Obi-Wan came outside to find Anakin pacing. 
“I’m glad you’re still here,” he told his former Padawan, ignoring the ache in his chest.
“Of course Ori’vod,” Anakin said, ducking his head with a shy smile. “What did Bant say?”
“She wants me to eat something real and visit a soul healer.” Obi-Wan sighed. “Well, I can do at least one of those things.”
“A soul healer! She thinks you’re crazy?” Anakin asked offended. 
“First of all, you don’t have to be unstable to visit a soul healer. I’ve seen them in the past, when there wasn’t as much wrong with me. I’m sorry if I led you to believe you couldn’t seek out help for your problems.” Obi-Wan said. Another mistake.
“I-I know that. I just thought, you know, Jedi can be judgmental of that sort of thing. A good Jedi is supposed to be able to just, meditate stuff away.” Anakin said bitterly.
Obi-Wan thought furiously. Was this why he had been so blindsided by Anakin’s fall? Had his padawan been so afraid of judgement that he hid all of the warning sides of his struggles with darkness? Maybe he could ask Owen for some sort of petty assistance when he brought over bantha milk next time, to demonstrate to young Luke that it was ok to ask for help. No, he was probably still too young for those sorts of lessons to have much meaning. The insight would require meditation, when he was more sober. 
Unsure how ‘Anakin’ would respond, Obi-Wan tentatively said, “You’re right, that some Jedi might judge for seeking such aid. But I think in the last years of the war, that sort of opinion became less and less common. After all, an ideal Jedi shouldn’t be leading an army. I don’t know if anyone can be perfect during war, let alone a peacekeeper.”
When that failed to garner positive or negative reply, Obi-Wan let out a breath. “It hardly matters, since I can’t exactly visit a therapist, let alone a soul healer, given my present living conditions.” 
Anakin seemed to process that, giving Obi-Wan a long, searching look. “What’s your next point?”
“Hmm?”
“You said first of all, and I think that was all one thing, so what’s your second point?”
“Not exactly being able to visit a soul healer regularly doesn’t count as a separate retort?”
“I guess? I’m just trying to understand what you’re trying to tell me” A twinge of frustration crept into Anakin’s otherwise level tone.
"I appreciate that, truly, and I regret the number of hurtful miscommunications that sprung up from me failing to do just that. Well, I suppose, by most reasonable standards, I am ‘crazy.’ Getting some help with unraveling my mind would probably be best, if it were an option, but it isn’t so...” Obi-Wan shrugged.
Before any followup questions could be asked, they finally arrived at the main entrance to the Room of a Thousand Fountains. The archway was stunning, water flowing upwards along the stone in intricate, shifting tessellations. When they stepped through, Obi-Wan was delighted to see Mace Windu sitting on a bench by the entrance. 
“Mace! I was hoping to see you.”
Mace looked at him. He seemed at first, to be utterly unsurprised by the duo’s arrival. But the longer he stared, the more visible shock overtook his features. “Master Koon recommended I look for you...force what happened.”
Obi-Wan just chuckled. “Oh you know. What didn’t happen.”
“What’s wrong?” Anakin asked urgently. “What do you see, Master Windu?”
Obi-Wan tried to wave them both off, laugh a little more forced. “Please, I came here to relax. I’m sure it would be easier to say what’s not wrong with-”
“Kark it, Obi-Wan this isn’t a joking matter.” Master Windu’s voice was calm, but insistent. He slowly started approaching Obi-Wan as though the fellow council member were a feral loth-cat. 
“You look as if...nearly every shatter point around you has broken open. Force, I think you’ve been carrying some of these with you since you were a child. Usually when things that deep break...And some of these- some of these are too big to have just affected you.” Mace hesitantly reached forward, brushing against something invisible.
A chill ran down Anakin’s spine, again. What the kriff did Obi-Wan see in his vision? Last night he mentioned the temple burning, their rooms turned to ash, and Anakin had just...let that go in favor of greedily spending time with this addictively affectionate version of Obi-Wan.
“Mace...” Obi-Wan groaned. “I had been wondering what you might say to me but this is...please, can’t you just give me a hug and let me enjoy the peace for one more hour.”
“Master Kenobi,” Mace said, seeming to revert to an even more serious version of himself. “What I see cracked open around you is bigger than the reemergence of the Sith on Naboo, bigger than the first battle of Genosis. Whatever has happened, you cannot possibly keep it to yourself, practically or morally.”
To the shock of both Windu and Skywalker, Obi-Wan actually rolled his eyes at that. “Mace. You are not telling me anything I do not already know. And I am choosing to spend a little longer enjoying the unique joys of the Temple before dealing with the harshness of reality. Haven’t I earned a small break? I’m not abandoning my duty, but if I don’t take care of myself where I can I’ll go madder than I already have.” 
At no point did Obi-Wan’s voice get whiny or upset, he just calmly dropped a series of bombshells like he was repeating an argument.
Mace and Anakin exchanged glances, but if Mace was trying to communicate something, it was utterly lost on Anakin. 
“Alright, Master Kenobi. I trust your judgement.” 
And, to Anakin’s shock, Mace pulled Obi-Wan for a tight hug. “And I care about you, Obi-Wan.”
For a brief, hysterical moment, Anakin Skywalker wondered if he was about to witness his Master break down crying on the shoulder of Mace Windu the Master of the Jedi Order.
But Obi-Wan just let out a slow breath and returned the embrace before bowing deeply in Respect. Windu returned the bow with a placid expression. 
“If you’ll excuse me...I think I’d like to stand by the waterfall alone for a moment.” He paused, turning to address Anakin. “If you’re willing to wait for me, I’ll happily rejoin you by the glowing mushrooms.” Anakin nodded silently and Obi-Wan beamed before leaving the two alone together.
Mace turned to the young knight in a silent demand for answers, and, for once, Anakin was eager to share what he was dealing with. “He came back drunk last night, talking about the temple burning down, and being well-”
“Unusually emotionally expressive?” Mace offered.
Anakin nodded. “Took a blood sample to analyze in the morning. He woke determined to hug every sentient being in the temple. I actually managed to get him to the halls just before we came here; Master Eerin said there was nothing in his system and...I just don’t know. He’s been off today, but not in a bad way, exactly. Could a vision have caused the shattering you saw?
Mace furrowed his brow. “Not any vision like I’ve ever seen but...these are dark times. And Master Kenobi has had historically bad luck. If some new cataclysm is coming for us- I absolutely believe he’d be the first of us to stumble into it. Something terrible and extraordinary must have happened in the 24 hours since I last saw him in person.”
A beat passed.
“I should go to the mushrooms before I lose track of him,” Anakin said quietly.
Mace nodded. “Skywalker, if you need assistance dragging him back to the healers for whatever reason, comm me, understood?” 
“Understood. Master Koon said the same.” the Knight replied, heart pounding.
The Windu clasped him on the shoulder firmly, "I’m going to check in with Master Eerin. It’s possible she has some suspicions that my observations will help her confirm. Until then...”
“I’ll look out for him.” Anakin promised.
Part VI
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Soraka's Ship, the "Stardust" - Class: Orca Dropship, retrofit for interstellar travel
As a more or less independent agent Soraka needed a personal ship. However, regular starships are not easy to come by, especially not the sort powerful enough to allow interstellar travel.
After spending her first days in the T'au Empire as a stowaway on multiple ships, she eventually arrived one one of the few worlds that were still recovering from the Damocles Crusade once led by the Empire of Mankind. Despite the T'au's best effort it would still take a lot of time to clean up those battlefields, and where enviormental hazards from leaking chemicals were not as problematic, entire landscapes have been dedicated to being scrapyards. A temporary solution to store all the now broken and useless junk until the worlds have finally recovered enough to make recycling those bits and pieces a priority again. It was on such an old battlefield that Soraka stumbled over her first Drones and, of course, the wreck that should become the "Stardust".
(On the specifics of the Reclamation Effort please reference the points -> Soraka and Technology and -> Soraka and her Drones in the Pinned Headcanon post.)
The wreck was a dropship of the Orca Class, a bulky transport vessel that is commonly used to deploy ground troops from orbit. Usually sporting a lenght of 21 meters, a width of 14 meters, as well as a hight of about 5 meters, and a weight of 25 tons it surely appears big to a regular person, but is barely an insect compared to actual interstellar vessels. This specific wreck however had the entire section behind the aft engines missing and with it the original two communication arrays, as if cut off by a giant saw or chainsword. Given the typical loadout of an Imperial Titan, this is probably what happened. Whatever the case, the pilot's cockpit had not been jettisoned during the encounter as would have been expected during emergencies.
Instead of restoring the original hull of the vessel, the hole was simply patched up. This meant that the cargo-space of the vessel could now no longer be accessed the conventional way. Later on a hatch would be installed on top of the vessel to solve this issue. For larger cargo a crane or the help of drones is necessary now.
Weapons and Tactical Systems
Most of the military loadout was damaged beyond repair, especially the damage to the Burst Cannons was extensive - it would be more correct to say that the weapon systems were completly obliberated. One defensive sytem however could be saved, namely the Disprution Pod. The function today is unreliable at best.
In terms of offensive capabilities the "Stardust" posesses next to none, with the exeption of a number of Longshot Pulse Rifles that have been salvaged from the wrecks of MV71 Sniper Drones and strapped together in a crude fashion that would allow a small burst of fire before each individual gun would have to recharge. While potentially useful in planetside encounters, for the terms of space combat the "Stardust" is completly unarmed.
The standard communcation arrays had been placed on the removed aft-section of the vessel and have now been replaced by a makeshift replacement above above the front part of the ship, giving it the appaerance of a horn of some sorts. Image quality still is still horrible, but text and data transmissions can function somewhat normally.
Ship Computer
The ship's central computer was completly beyond repair. The heart of the vessel is now the processing unit of a DX-6 Remora Stealth Drone found elsewhere on the battlefield. Soraka removed the scorched remains of its wings and dragged it to the wreck, where it now sits in the center of. Given its original nature as an offensive combat unit, and the fact that its crashlanding and the conditions under which repairs were made have been far from ideal, it is not surprising that the unit has become unsual in behavior. The AI guiding this vessel is far more violent and conflict-seeking than is common for T'au programs, which is worrysome given the vessel's absolute lack of offensive systems. So far the unit obeys Soraka's every command only to act as an advisor in matters concerning the ship or its captain's mission.
So far demands for installing a "railgun of the power to pierce a sun" have been ignored in favor for further repairs, despite the AI's repeated arguments that such an upgrade would be "Strategic Value: Absolute".
Interstellar Retrofit
As it is commonly known, a typical Orca as an orbital transport shuttle does not posess interstellar capabilities. While being able to withstand the harsh conditions of deep space due to sturdy construction, its engines were by far not powerful enough to cover such interstellar distances effectively. Even with the impressive maximal speed of 2000 km/h it would, for example, take over three years to cover the smallest distance between Earth and Mars.
While now in posession of a salvaged AL-38 Slipstream Module - a smaller prototype from before the 4th Sphere of Expansion - which takes up more than half of the original cargo hold, essentially turning the entire vessel essentially into a captains chair with an engine strapped under it; Soraka had to get creative before this acquisition was made. Before the installation of the module, the interstellar travel process utilized Soraka's inherent abilities as a warpborn entity and looked as follows:
Plot Direction
Reach maximum speed in realspace
Tear open a rift to the Warp
Project aura to confuse warp predators/demons
Open a second rift when vessel begins to slow or when strong hostile warp presence appears
Repeat those "short jumps" until destination has been reached. Several hours of rest were necessary between each short jump.
Generally it was not unusual for her to miss her targets by several hours or almost crash into other ships. The "Deepspace Orca" soon became a rumor within the T'au Fleet, but was mostly considered nothing but crazy stories. Everyone "knows" Orcas "can't do interstellar travel". An impossible ship bearing the markings of a vessel confirmed to be destroyed during the Damocles Crusade ages ago was just too wild of a story for anyone in the higher levels of command to care about.
It should be noted that the "Stardust" posesses ZERO GELLAR FIELD TECHNOLOGY. For one would such machinery barely fit into the ship, but also they would cause Soraka tremendous amount of headaches. Any "short jumps" are a risk to all sentient biological life on board, mostly because unlike Drones and other AI you can't just "turn them off" for the duration of the process.
Life Support Systems
The "Stardust" posesses recycling systems for air and water, but the water system is still damaged, which is why taking in fresh water and dropping the sewage is a priority on every landing in addition to the regular concerns of antimatter fuel. Luckily for a small ship such as this only miniscule quanitites - as compared to the demand of a regular starship - are sufficient.
There is no system for artificial gravity. If there orginally was, Soraka could neither find nor repair the systems for it.
Other Notes
Generally the ship can be described as very cramped. The decreased cargo space has been stuffed with over a dozen drones, other cargo, and a small bit of space has been cleared to be Soraka's workbench where she tinkers on the Drones. There is no dedicated place to sleep as when in space Soraka just wraps herself in a blanket and floats in the middle of the room - that is when she does not just sleep in the pilot's seat. In theory the cockpit would require two co-pilots. For now this task is done by two drones hooked up to the consoles. They are easy to keep apart from the other drones as Soraka has placed the hats of imperial officers on them that she found during the salvage process.
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rosierin · 3 years
Text
Shinsuke de Hyōgo
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this was initially supposed to be for valentine's day- whoops—
a cyrano de bergerac inspired one-shot featuring an oblivious kita, chaotic miya twins and a wheezing suna.
paring: kita x fem!reader
genre: honestly crack, but with a romantic ending
word count: 3.9k
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It was a pleasant summer day to be sat in the park. Evening had fallen, the air was sweet, complete silence surrounded them; all the ideal factors conducive to a perfect confession. And what better way to do it then while watching the sunset after a classic date at a high end restaurant.
Kita and (y/n) had known each other since middle school and had been friends from pretty much day one. 
It was the sort of friendship that had started thanks to proximity; they lived nearby, shared a class, and continued because of their complimentary personalities. Kita had always been the more reserved type, so (y/n)'s outgoing personality had been a refreshing add-on to his life. It wasn't the same type of outgoing as the older Miya twin either; unlike him she knew of things such as discretion and respect of one's personal boundaries. She knew how to make him smile and her presence had always given him a sense of security and peace that only resonated within her. It was only a matter of time until he began developing feelings for her and as soon as their last year of high school came about, that's when he finally built up the courage to ask her out
Tonight however was different. He wanted to take the next step further, for through years of accumulated infatuation, Kita had never been surer about his feelings for (y/n). He knew it was more than just a crush, more than any old, fleeting feeling one could experience such as a romance built over summer. Rather, what Kita felt he knew was real and tonight was the night he would put those feelings into words.
"(Y/n)." Years of yearning to say everything he'd kept hidden, ready to be told at last.
"Hm?" She turned her head, shifting her gaze from the golden sun and focusing on Kita, a smile on her face.
He took a deep breath.
"I love you."
Silence.
For some reason, his words seemed to hang heavy on the warm summer breeze and all of a sudden, the setting no longer felt so comfortable. In fact, Kita began to feel the exact opposite. Did silences after a confession always take this long? And was it just him, a trick of the light or was she... Frowning?
He pursed his lips. That's it, he'd done something wrong. Was it the tone of his voice? Had he came off as too authoritative? Or cold? His aloofness had never seemed to bother her beforehand though... Gosh. He couldn't remember the last time his hands felt this clammy. Not even his first volleyball game had made this anxious. He swallowed down his dry throat. Patience, Kita. Patience. Good things come to those who wait, his grandma always said. Perhaps she had just gotten shy.
"Oh-"
Oh? Was.. Was that all? 
A million and one questions rushed through his head at her response, or rather lack of. No mind Kita, just move onto a different subject, he told himself.
He cleared his throat and hastily tried stringing a coherent sentence together in his head, rushing to kill the oppressing silence, and admittedly, it took him a fair amount of willpower not to stumble over his own words.
"I- erm. Would ya like to do this again next week?"
He didn't miss the way she bit her lip at his question, that simple act alone being enough to make his heart sink. 
"Oh!" She exclaimed, somewhat regaining a bit more liveliness to her demeanor. But Kita had known her long enough to tell that there was a lack of sincerity behind that smile; it was the kind she pulled when Atsumu had told her a joke but was too polite to tell him it was terrible. "Erm, well, I'll have to let you know about that. You know, with homework and whatnot," she chuckled dryly. "You know how it can be." 
"Of course," Kita nodded, politely and as naturally as he could be without looking like he was about to melt through the bars of the wooden bench. "I understand if yer busy."
"Yep! Gotta keep them grades up."
"Mhmm." 
"...."
Another silence filled the air, save for the occasional cricket chirping in the distance. It lasted for a good three minutes, until (y/n) suddenly got up and turned towards the still sitting Kita. 
"Well, thank you for this evening, Shin. I think I'm gonna head home for now, it's getting a bit late. Wouldn't want my mum to worry, y'know?"
Then, he stood up and wiped his sweaty hands on his slacks. "Yeah, no, it's no problem." He offered a tiny smile as (y/n) leaned in to lightly peck his cheek. 
"Goodnight," she smiled.
A nod. Then, she was gone. 
"G'night."
Yep. Something had definitely gone wrong.
˚。⋆.˚。⋆.˚。⋆.
The next day, Kita went to tell everything to his team. He had debated for a long time whether or not it was a good idea, but the way the whole exchange had went in addition to the image of (y/n)'s scrunched up features and uneasiness had kept him up at night. He needed to know what the problem was, that or he feared he wouldn't be able to focus at all for the next... Well, that was exactly the problem— he didn't know when or how he would be able to function if he didn't get any answers. And admittedly, he knew the twins would have more experience in the relationship department than he did— not that that was very difficult since (y/n) had been his first love— but whatever the case may be, unfortunately they were his only hope.
"Well? How'd ya date go?" Asked Atsumu as he finished setting the ball to his twin brother.
"About that. I think I messed it up." 
A loud bang followed Kita's words in result of Osamu's powerful spike. 
"Why, what happened?" He asked. "Ya didn't make her pay the bill for ya, did ya?"
"No, I paid," Kita said, shaking his head. "I said 'I love you.'"
At this, both twins put their practice on hold to glance at each other. Atsumu propped the ball under his arm and raised a questioning brow at his captain.
"Is that it?"
"Well...yeah."
Osamu's expression mimicked his brothers; a mix between confusion and apprehension.
"Well, what didja say beforehand?" He then asked. Kita blinked. This time, it was his turn to feel confused. 
"Nothin'. That's all I said." 
An awkward silence settled between the three teammates as they shared a round of dumbfounded looks. Even Suna who was busy practicing his serves further down the court had stopped to listen in on the conversation.
"Ya mean ta' say ya confessed to her outta the blue?" Atsumu asked, his lip twitching upward. Now at this point, Kita was truly at a loss. Were the twins implying that he had done it wrong?
"Ain't that what girls wanna hear?"
A splutter echoed somewhere down the court— Suna. He was clutching his sides and laughing openly before shaking his head and serving the ball on the other side of the court and for some reason, Kita felt like his cheeks had grown very warm.
"Well I mean- yeah, but there's a whole process to it! Ya don't just blurt out 'I love ya' 'cause ya feel like it. It's the buildup she's waitin' for," Atsumu explained through a lazy grin.
"But it wasn't just 'cause I felt like it," Kita argued, somewhat perplexed. "I meant it- And we've known each other for years."
"I know, but still. I'm sure she was expectin' somethin' a little more than just three words, ya know? I mean it's as ya said, you've known eachother since middle school! By now she probably expects a full novel from ya!" 
"A full novel?" Kita echoed. Well that seemed like overkill.
"Maybe not that much," Osamu stepped in, "but 'Tsumu's right. I think ya left her feelin' a little underwhelmed."
His captain pondered over his words.
Underwhelmed? Really? But what more could she want? His words were precise, sincere, meaningful. Granted they were only three words, but how else could he possibly express his feelings for (y/n) when that's all he could think to say? He knew other words than love: adore, cherish, admire... But wouldn't it have been the same if he'd used one of those words instead? They all meant more or less the same thing.
"So what am I supposed to do?" 
At that, the twins exchanged a look, and Kita could've sworn he saw both of them surpress a smirk as they held their silent conversation. However before Kita could question, Atsumu piped up.
"We'll gladly help ya with yer romance problems cap'n. But on one condition," he started. Kita raised his brow expectedly. 
"We're off cleanin' duties for three months if ya succeed in wooin' yer lady," Osamu finished, the mischivous glint in his eyes reflecting that of his older twins'. One tended to forget just how cunning Osamu is seeing as it was usually Atsumu who got labelled as the naughtier twin. But it was in times like these where Kita was reminded just how similar those two really were.
"One month," Kita objected.
"Two months," they chorused.
"Six, full weeks."
The twins glanced at each other, mulled over his answer briefly before turning to him and nodding once, twin smiles splitting their faces in a way that practically screamed trouble. "Deal." 
Oh well, there was no backing down now. But oddly enough, Kita couldn't help himself from feeling that he had just made a pact with Inarizaki's two, conniving little devils.
˚。⋆.˚。⋆.˚。⋆.
"This doesn't seem like a very foolproof plan, Miyas," Kita droned as he eyed the twins who stood underneath his loved one's balcony.
Atsumu scoffed. "What? Sure it is! You'll see, we've got this whole thing under control!"
"Just leave it ta' us," Osamu smirked.
"Leave it to us." If Kita could think of one sentence he didn't want to hear from the twins, it was that. Perhaps on the court, during practice, then yes, maybe Kita would accept putting his trust in his two teammates. But when stood below (y/n)'s balcony, dressed in a full suit and tie and holding a bouquet of roses, Kita couldn't have felt more out of place. 
"Now c'mon, get her attention!" Atsumu urged, voice low as to not be heard while he made obscure hand mouvements in Kita's direction.
The latter stood stiffly and looked left and right, clueless as to what to do. "How?" 
"Use a pebble or somethin'!" 
This time the captain sighed and reluctantly began his search for said pebble. He knew this idea was stupid and honestly, debated on whether or not he should just go home and call it quits. It was late, already way past evening hours and he couldn't imagine what people would think if they saw him lurking around a girl's house at this time of night, not to mention in the company of two other boys huddled under her balcony. It was freakin' weird. 
Luckily, not many people lived around these parts, meaning he needn't worry about the eyes of others on him as he readied himself to launch a small pebble against (y/n)'s closed window.
Clink. 
No response. 
"What now? Should I wait?" Kita asked as he tried peering into the window. The lights were still on, meaning she hadn't gone to bed yet.
"Nah, try another," Atsumu whispered as he jerked his head in direction of more pebbles. 
"Why am I doing this...." Kita murmured to himself as he reluctantly bent down to pick up another. 
"'Cause ya love 'er.' Osamu whispered regardless from somewhere in the shadows. Another sigh. Yes, he was right, he did love her, and that fact alone was enough to give Kita a motivation boost in order to go through with this far-fetched, Miya concocted plan.
Two more pebbles were launched at (y/n)'s window shortly after this exchange, and it was on the third one that she finally opened up her window, only for her to wince when it knocked her square on the forehead. 
A fit of strangled chortles could be heard beneath the balcony.
"Ouchie- The heck— Shinsuke?" 
As she peered down over her balcony, Kita suddenly felt his chest constrict at the sight of her; damp hair and clad in her summer nightwear and it was only then that it occurred to him that she had just gotten out the shower.
A quiet whistle followed by a low chuckle made Kita stiffen— the Miyas. Had they no shame? 
"...Shut yer traps."
"What?" (Y/n)'s voice suddenly sounded above his head. She was smiling, thankfully. At least she wasn't upset or angry at him for showing up so late. "I uh- sorry, I can't really hear you from up here. Do you want to just come in?" She asked. 
Kita frantically looked at the twins though kept it concealed behind his best vacant expression. They vehemently shook their heads. "It'll ruin the effect," the elder one whispered.
Kita cleared his throat. "Erm, no. No, thank you. Speakin' with ya from here is just fine." 
"Accent! Yer accent!" Atsumu called, quietly while his brother made a cross sign with his arms. Kita discreetly nodded.
"It is far too much of a lovely evening to be locked up inside. It would be a shame not to make the most of it, don't you think?" 
At this, (y/n) merely blinked, somewhat innocently before a small smile pulled at her lips. It must be working, Kita thought. He looked at the twins for affirmation, and when they flashed him an enthusiastic thumbs up, Kita couldn't have felt prouder. It served as encouragement for him to continue. 
"What's all this?" (Y/n) giggled as she nodded towards Kita's attire and flowers, amusement clear on her moonlit features. 
"For thou, my dear!" Kita's usually monotone voice carried across the deserted streets— courtesy of Atsumu's indications. He glanced at him once, listened to his next words before nodding and adopting his same, Shakespearean stance: "A grand gesture, though only a mere token of my affection for if you spare me just a second of your time I shall attempt to articulate the sentiments I have been harbouring for you over the past hundreds of moons!"
"Hundreds of moons?" (Y/n) echoed as she peered down at him from her balcony, lips curling, eyebrows raising. "My, that is a long time!" She marvelled as she leaned further over the balcony, arms folded neatly upon its surface. From where Kita stood, she appeared as a curious cat as she eyed him with all the interest in the world, lips upturned into a mischievous smirk. "But please by all means, I would love to hear these articulated, harboured sentiments of yours."
A pang of worry overcame Kita as (y/n) watched him expectedly. Luckily, he had the twins to lean on. He glanced over at the space under the balcony and saw Osamu motioning to him despite Atsumu's protests. He whispered the following:
"Of course. For (y/n), not only do I love you, I adore you. These sentiments I detain for you are eternal. Like a fruit, our love will be endless; transversing all seasons and growing stronger as the years go by.
To me, you are nothing short of perfection. You're radiant through rain and shine, and I can't help but fathom how lucky I would be, to have you by my side for a hundred moons more."
A smile graced Kita's lips as he repeated Osamu's speech and he was pleasantly surprised by its outcome. For you see, Osamu's speech was simple. It was modulated and concise. He didn't beat around the bush, nor did he use his body to speak. All in all, one could call Osamu's speech effortless. And as the words flowed from Kita's lips, (y/n) appeared bewitched by their appeal.
Now as for Atsumu, he spoke from the heart. Through his ardent words, one could call him cheesy, over theatrical or perhaps even someone who was trying a little too hard. Though through Kita's knowing eyes, all he saw was the same passionate and spirited boy he saw on the court— like love incarnate. And the fire lit in (y/n)'s eyes only served as proof of their efficiency.
However, as elaborate and as heartfelt as his words may be, this only made them harder to relay and much to Kita's distress, he found himself looking over at him more times than he'd ought to. Luckily for him, his twin brother was there, whispering back whenever words escaped him, filling in the blanks.
This little tactic of theirs continued for another ten minutes or so, but as much as Kita wished for it to work, a Miya-elaborated plan could only go so far, Kita should've known that. 
He was midway through his speech when Osamu suddenly stopped speaking and the whispering under the balcony got louder. 
"Stupid 'Samu. I wasn't done speakin'!" 
"So what? She's probably gettin' bored of yer lines anyway." 
"Yeah? Not yer stupid, food related love metaphors?" 
"Rather that than a discount, Shakespearian rip-off."
"Alright. that's it."
Kita paled. 
He watched, utterly mortified when Osamu suddenly pounced on his twin and never in his life had Kita experienced such a drastic change of emotions. He tried subtly getting their attention through shuffles of feet and discreet glances, however it was useless. Without the twins' help, it was only a matter of time until his speech began losing coherency, dying out until it was reduced to silence. 
He didn't dare look (y/n) in the eye after that.
"Shinsuke? Are you alright?" 
"I, er. It seems I have lost my touch," he spoke, ruefully.
"Oh? Don't tell me you regret your heartfelt confession," she teased.
"O' course not!" Kita replied, his voice teetering into a shout. A mix of guilt and embarrassment had made him unable to detect the playful lilt to (y/n)'s voice and thus the unexpected raise of his voice made everyone's head turn, including the twins. He saw (y/n)'s face fall into a look of bemusement, and sighed quietly under his breath as he recollected himself. "No. It's not that..." 
Once again, everything became still. The twins had finally stopped their bickering picked themselves off the ground. And, as they caught a glimpse of their friends' dejected, downcast gaze, they looked at each other before casting him an apologetic look. They tried whispering to him some more but this time Kita refused to listen. Instead he released another, longer sigh, then looked back up at the balcony to meet (y/n)'s gaze.
"Listen (y/n), I'm sorry. Everythin' I said before was true, 'cept it doesn't mean anythin' since none of it came from me." 
He paused for a moment in case (y/n) wanted to speak and simply regarded her, trying to make sense of her current unreadable expression. She didn't appear angry or sad, but blank as though she was anticipating his next words.
He took this as a sign to pursue his speech.
"I was so darn worried after the other night that I asked the twins for their help. They said ya didn't like my confession so I wanted to do it right. I understand why it was weird to just confess outta the blue but I just didn't know how else to say everythin' that was on my heart."
"I don't wear my heart on my sleeve like Atsumu does, and I'm not much of a smooth talker. My words are usually harsh and cold— I know that because I overheard the Miyas and Suna talk about it instead of practicing."
The twins promptly gulped but he heared (y/n) giggle. It brought a tiny smile to his face.
"But I mean it when I say I love ya. It took me a while to get there, but actually I think I've always loved ya. I'm sorry I couldn't think of a better way to say it." 
Kita let out a long breath as he finished his last words and like magic, his chest suddenly felt a lot lighter. He kept his eyes trained on (y/n)'s face, wondering if perhaps what he had said was enough, and when her face melted into an affectionate smile, he swore he'd never seen anything sweeter.
"You're so sweet, Shin. I love you, too!" 
I love you, too. 
Warmth bloomed in Kita's chest. Finally the four, little words he'd been longing to hear had greeted his ears. They sounded sweeter than anything he could've imagined. But then again, everything was when it stemmed from her, if it was enounced through her voice.
A series of coos erupted from the shadows and that's when Kita was reminded that he and (y/n) had not in fact been alone. Heat rushed to Kita's pale cheeks as (y/n) emitted a small squeak and she peered over her balcony in attempts of spotting the two perpetrators. 
"Hold on, are the twins here right now?!" 
Kita pinched the bridge of his nose, ashamed as he watched the twins sheepishly creep out from the gloom.
"Hey, (y/n)!" Atsumu beamed as he and his twin waved. "Fancy seeing ya here!"
Osamu sighed and lightly tugged at his collar. "It's her house, dumbass.." 
"...Right-"
At this point, Kita was just about ready to tell the twins to go home, but just as he parted his lips to chide them, (y/n) erupted into another fit of giggles. 
"Now I see why the speeches were so lame." 
Atsumu gasped, affronted, and Osamu pouted. "Lame?! Wh— How dare ya!" The former yelled.
"Yeah. Well actually, at least the part about the fruit was cute," (y/n) hummed.
Another gasp, a low chuckle.
"Told ya she'd like it."
"Shut it, 'Samu! I was gonna say somethin' similar, ya just beat me to it!" 
An affectionate roll of the eyes from (y/n) followed the twins' bickering and even in spite of the ridiculousness of the situation, Kita found himself smiling at them despite himself. 
"Why don't you come inside?" (Y/n) asked, nodding her head to the front door of her house below. "I'll go make some tea." 
Kita nodded with a smile. "Yer the best."
"I know~" (Y/n) blew Kita a playful kiss as she retreated into her bedroom, leaving Kita and the twins at her doorstep.
However, he noticed that traces of bashfulness remained evident on the Twins' features, and they fidgeted as they stood side by side next to the entrance of (y/n)'s door. 
"I'm pretty sure she was talkin' about you too." 
Immediately, their faces perked up and the usual brightness in their eyes returned in a matter of seconds. Then, together they entered (y/n)'s house, the twins hot on Kita's heels.
"So..." Atsumu began, "Do we still get those six weeks off or—"
"Don't push yer luck, Miya."
Atsumu nodded. Osamu cleared his throat. 
"Understandable."
Kita shut the door behind them.
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phoenixyfriend · 3 years
Text
In Which Kaguya has a Summoning Engine
As was brainstormed with @lizasweetling​ in a Kagumo server.
So, the context needed is that the Summoning Engine we reference is Lucrezia Mongfish’s ‘throne’ from Girl Genius. She held a copy of her brain in storage, and a man who’d once been in love with her, and still was, had dedicated his life to putting young women (including his own daughter) in the throne in an attempt to download her mind to overlay theirs. Most died. Some became vegetables. It only worked successfully on Lucrezia’s own daughter, the main character.
So it’s a bit horror, yeah. Not transplanting the full GG world, just the concept of the Summoning Engine. Initially, we weren’t sure how to do with this to make it Kagumo without it getting Really Weird and very villain!Sakumo.
Eventually, I started building off of the time-travel concept presented by Sloaners in The Bunnies and the Bees. Short summary: Kaguya yeeted her husband (Sakumo) centuries into the future for his own safety, and the safety of their unborn child (Kakashi in an Egg).
So Sakumo... does not know the engine exists. I think he’d be horrified if he did? But you know who does know about the engine, and is very dedicated to finding someone who can survive it, no matter how many people die in the process of finding a host?
Zetsu.
(Obvi)
Zetsu has not been able to put the machine together, but Sasori knows how to work with fiddly bits! The tech is so weird and foreign and futuristic that Sasori only mostly got it, and that's why it kept killing hosts, but tbh it’s closer than Zetsu managed alone so he can’t actually kill Sasori for failing.
So, what to do? Make. A. Host.
Zetsu helps Orochimaru figure out how to make 'empty' clones. He still has some hair from Kaguya as DNA, so just... make a clone. It’s not perfect, but make a clone. Presumably, the clone ends up with less power at least partly because Orochimaru can’t perfectly recreate the internal conditions of the Ootsutsuki uterus that Kaguya’s own mother presumably gestated her in.
Between Orochimaru making a Kaguya clone and Sasori building the machine, they kind of get it to work.
She's limited- which leads her to be less... overtly homocidal than she might be. Still a badass obv, but not to her standards, and already having at least one human she doesn't totally despise! Possibly two!
Less "world-ending terror" and more like... Konan's level.
Kaguya now gets to work figuring out how to get her darling husband back because he died?!?!?! No!
And he didn't have a backup brain! So she has to figure out necromancy.
Good thing Orochimaru was already experimenting with it!
So the timing on this is a bit variable, but Zetsu would need Orochimaru for bringing Kaguya back via the throne, which means at the very least, Minato is Hokage and Kannabi already happened, probably the Sanbi as well With time for the clone to develop, including experimentation, I'd give it at LEAST a few years later, so a few years post-Kyuubi.
Kakashi’s had time to fill up his trauma meter, and Kaguya gets an earthly avatar while he’s deep in ANBU. She should have enough power to suddenly appear behind him, ideally on a mission. For the Aesthetic.
Kakashi: [reacting to a presumed surprise attack] Kaguya: Baby!! [glomph, followed by enthusiastic hugging]
Kaguya keeps pushing for Obito to kidnap Kakashi. Maybe marry him, Obito seems like a nice young man and a worthy son in law.
As Liz responded: does he tho???
And then answer is yes! To Kaguya. She is not a stable metric, and does not know what is considered ‘a nice young man’ or otherwise... good for Kakashi.
Obito is objectively unhinged and in need of LOTS of therapy before starting any kind of romantic relationship... but Kaguya doesn't understand that.
Kaguya: My darling son! Kakashi: Uhhhh Kaguya: Now you can help me gather the bijuu and regain my glorious power. Kakashi: Uhhhhhhhh Obito: Hey, this isn't the plan I signed on for, and you seem even less relatable than old man Madara, so I'm just gonna... go.
When Kaguya succeeds in bringing back Sakumo, Kakashi is just in his face begging him to Help Stop Mom.
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paint-lady · 3 years
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hey, if you don't mind, i want your advice: i'm going to be running a chronicle set in chicago (i am using the chicago by night 5e book) for players who are new to vampire for the most part in a few days and i can't For The Life of Me to come up with an interesting chronicle hook (yeah i have read the hooks in the book). any ideas/suggestions/general advice?
Hiya! I could talk your ears off on how I write my chronicles- so hopefully I have taken all my processes and reduced it down to a lovely World of Darkness jam. 
Here are two good hooks I just came up with- feel free to use them! The third is what I got for my first chronicle, and I just think its a narrative that works very well for new players.
>Option 1: Guilty Until Proven Innocent ”Chicago is a series of paradoxes and transitions, of ever changing paradigms and whimsy,” (CbN 47). Have your coterie be newbies to the city. Ask why they have come to Chicago. Power? A new start? Perhaps this is a political arrangement between the clan of one city with another. Whatever their reason, they have arrived right when a Primogen vanishes- and guess who is first on the suspect list? The fresh faces on the streets >:) The coterie, having barely settled, has to suddenly prove their innocence. And finding evidence lets them uncover something much more sinister....
This one is ideal for new players as it sets everyone on an equal footing. Even if they create a character that has been a vampire for 50+ years and has amassed several dots of influence, herd, status- whatever, they are still new to the city. And being new means you have to start all over again. (This may be frustrating to a player that invested all those points at character creation- but it is on you as the ST to make sure they have opportunities to use those dots and on them as a player to think cleverly.)
Starting the tale off with defending their innocence is actually a very engaging questline. It effectively sets the stage for the political powerhouses. It lets new players know there are rules- and those in power are watching. It also sets the consequences for failure. Understand that the Camarilla probably isnt going to outright kill the coterie if they fail- always make the punishment just harsh and grueling enough to make final death feel like a mercy. Failure isn’t the end of the story.
For new players- I would be lenient with the time it takes for them to find evidence. But within reason. Think like your Prince and Seneschal. Do you really want this coterie running around for a full week, unsupervised, making more messes? No. You don’t. (You might wanna send an npc with them to watch and keep em out of trouble. Your npc is also able to vouch for them.)
This story lends itself to be a Camarilla Chronicle very easily. You can go Anarch, but an Anarch leader suddenly vanishing and blaming the newbies is much more quickly going to end with blood spilled. Thank your local sweeper.
> Option 2: Containment Breach Blacksite 24 (Loresheet on page 264) was temporarily occupied by Operation Firstlight. It has now been transformed into a medical research facility. While most kindred of Chicago know of Blacksite 24, they have zero clue what happens inside other than bad news for them- the less they know the safer they are. The chronicle opens with a car crash. The captured soon-to-be coterie was in transit to this feared medical facility. The crash did kill the driver and the agent in charge of transporting them. The crash did not fully break their restraints, but it did enough damage that first responders are freaking out. They are all at hunger 3. The chronicle is a hunt. The coterie should have some knowledge of what had happened to them and how lucky they are to have escaped. Operatives are already on their way to recapture them. They must hide in this city- and do their best to survive and stay out of sight.
The point of this story is to invoke dread. I highly recommend one player either being a thin-blood (or an npc) with the Daydrinker merit, or a player to have a ghoul. If they decide to not have a daywatch, they increase their chance of being found.
This story also sets up a feeling of desperation. They would be willing to take shelter from anyone- anyone. Eventually the other kindred will catch on that these guys are on the run from something. Any sane kindred would toss them out to protect themselves. A compassionate kindred who takes them in will suffer the final death as a compassionate fool- or join them in captivity. 
This story lends itself to be an Anarch Chronicle much more easily. This is the time the Camarilla will likely be a bit more paranoid and bloody. While they might not outright kill the coterie- they will send them somewhere that is a death trap. They wont dirty their hands with this. After all, you do not want any evidence to fall into the hands of the SI if you hired the hit.
This story is ideal for newbies without background merits. No allies, no influence, no herd. Let them take more mythic merits such as bloodhound and unbondable (Consider finding some from V20 too! There are some really awesome supernatural merits!). These powers would certainly be more fascinating for a medical team to study- not how many instagram followers they have. This kind of story also lets your players feel more powerful- but out of the loop. It lends itself to them forging alliances and getting caught in one-sided favors a lot more quickly. 
The challenging aspect of this story is that is starts with a masquerade breach. New players may not know how to handle such a blatant breach and thats okay. I would let the crash slide- and the Camarilla in the background handles it. Breaches after the crash need to be handled with proper consequences. 
> Option 3: New Blood This is what my storyteller did to me and my first time players (and its also very close to the plot of CoNY). We were shovelheads. Embraced to make a huge mess for the Camarilla and die quick deaths. We were all thin-bloods. The last thing the pcs remember is the sweet rush of ecstasy washing over them, before clawing out of the earth and driven mad by an insatiable hunger. The thrill of the hunt, and the sweet, warm blood on their tongue, nothing was going to be better. All three will awake next to each other, surrounded by the corpses they drank dry in their frenzy. What a way to play the name game! The players have three nights were they figure out their new condition or coverup their tracks (if they think to do it). They contend with their hunger and hatred of sunlight, wrestle with accidentally drinking their family member dry. After three nights, the Scourge comes knocking. Rather than outright killed, they are dragged to Elysium. For some reason, they are adopted by an upstanding member of the Camarilla- or the Prince orders a political rival care for them (hoping they fail). The players are the errand childer of this kindred, and slowly they figure out what they have been gathering through all these errands....
This one lets the characters all have the moments where they discover their disciplines and powers- and bestial tendencies. It naturally flows to allow players to slowly discover the rules and mechanics as well. All players must play fledglings for this tale. 
This story is much more a personal tale than a political one. Eventually politics makes its way in...but it does not have to be a focus. 
This story has less of a hook and more of a “Figure it Out” survival mode until the errands begin. The story is how the character’s react to their condition. It very quickly lends itself to a narrative of finding your own path in the night, rather than mindlessly obeying.
So here are a few questions that I ask myself when crafting a chronicle story:
1. What kind of story do you want to tell? Not asking for a plot hook, I’m asking for a general concept. Is it a tale of good triumphing over evil? (Not necessarily a wrong answer, but if you wanna play good guys...vampire is not the best game for that). Is this a chase? Is this a race against time? 
2. How do you want your story to make your players feel? Do you want to tell a story that invokes as much dread as possible in your players? Do you want them to feel ultra powerful? Vampire is both a power fantasy and a dread inducing game- it can do both. 
3. If you don’t know what kind of story you want to tell, switch gears to worldbuilding. CbN has so many NPCs with the rumors already written for you. Its your setting, perhaps switch two rumors around with prominent NPCs. Decide which ones are true in your setting- Maybe Primogen Annabell did kill her predecessor. Perhaps the Lasombra are attempting to infiltrate the Camarilla as everyone fears- but no one is able to prove it or stop it. Deciding what is true, false, and undetermined usually blossoms into hooks and stories worth investigating.
4. What is a historical event of the city that the Vampires would have endured/ scars would have remained? For example, in my chronicle set in Richmond, the tale of the Richmond Vampire is true. Depending on who you ask, it is the Camarilla’s best or sloppiest cover up. Have the chronicle coincide with the events and the coterie live through them. No one said this must take place in 2021- you can do 2015, 2008, -hell go back the 1990s. Its actually super fun if you set your chronicle in the 90s and your Malkavian is using phrases from 2020.
5. One of my things I do when writing scenes and moments is play Dread by myself. Dread is a role playing game played with jenga. There are no dice rolls, if you want to attempt something, you have to pull pieces from the tower. If the tower falls, you die. If there is a moment where I really really really dont want to pull from the tower, though the reward for succeeding is so so sweet- I keep the moment. If its really easy to shrug and go eh, I can live without performing that action- go back and rewrite it. If you have no incentive to pull from the tower, why would they?
6. Examine your player’s desires and ambitions- and do not neglect them in your chronicle. The plot wont magically allow all of them to achieve their ambitions. However, provide opportunities for them through the plot. Its on them to strive for what their character wants- its on you to make them struggle but have the path to get there. For example, if a player wants to become a Baron, provide a political opening. Perhaps then by announcing their power, they have made a bigger name for themselves and it has become harder to hide. Perhaps by doing this, the kindred they owe a favor is suddenly much more vocal about it. 
Here are some suggestions for handling new players:
> You are going to have to handhold them through some things. New players to vtm won’t be able to see the cascading political web and how the consequences of their actions will ripple into waves. I like to use Wits+Insight and call it Common Sense. Common Sense was a merit in V20- and damn is it WONDERFUL. All they need is just 1 success (they can take half) to have you explain how whatever plan they just thought of is actually a TERRIBLE idea. 
> Do your RPG consent list. Know what is safe to discuss and what is off the table. I highly recommend utilizing something my Storyteller used for my first chronicle, and subsequently I use for all my ttrpgs now: Invoking the Veil. The metaphor is that you are slowly lessening the intensity of a scene- as if raising the opacity or looking through layers of fabric. Eventually, there is too much fabric and you can no longer see the scene. If something is too intense, the ST or the player may announce they are invoking the veil. Reduce the scene by lowering music, speaking in third person, or avoiding heavy descriptors. You can reduce it further to just dice rolls. Role play stops, and the consequences of the scene are solely dictated by the dice. Or fade to black. If a player is repeatedly fading to black on something- ask to talk to them about it. Clearly something is too intense and they are not having as much fun as they can. Debriefing after a session is also a good idea. Do something silly! Share and check all the memes in the discord chat. Its important to make sure you and your players know that at the end of the night- its all just a game.
> I find the sabbat and new players don’t tend to mix well. You may absolutely still use the sabbat in your chronicle! But the dogma and philosophical ideals of the sabbat can be offputting and downright upsetting to a first time player. You may absolutely build to it- that’s what I did to my players. And in the moment of the truth, they chose to cling to humanity. 
> The taking half mechanic is your friend! V5 says players may announce how many dice they are rolling- and if the dividend is greater than the DC- they auto succeed. This streamlines play. Of course, you as the Storyteller may say this is a roll they are not allowed to take half on. Usually these are contested rolls (combat).
> The three turns and out rule keeps combat intense but not too lengthy. It actually streamlines encounters super super well. 
> My ST used a phrase, “The quickest way to kill Cthulhu is to give it a healthbar.” If Methuselahs and Elders are involved in your game- avoid giving them stat blocks. This cultivates a conflict that new players must find a way to overcome without brute force combat. It makes them think critically and defy these super old antagonists through narrative means. This also gets the notion out of your and their heads, “if they die, its over.” Its never that easy. Never. 
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