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#if you don't get out of the way of one of those vehicles transporting people barreling down the aisle you will be run over
swordswaltz · 11 months
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as someone whose home airport was newark for 11 years, seeing everyone universally shit on newark is so vindicating. charlie slimecicle made a joke about newark being awful recently and i out loud cheered
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pinchofhoney · 6 months
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broken promises, part two
« part one | part two | part three »
coriolanus snow x fem!reader
word count: 3.6k
warning: angst, feeling of being betrayed, heartbreak
summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.
a/n: it's for those few people who have read part one, thank you<33 i hope more people will crawl here like doctor gaul snakes after the film's premiere, so i'd like to ask: do you want a third part in which our lovely reader meets snow again after his return to the capitol? 🐍
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @metalarmsandmanbuns
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gif is not mine, credit to the owner
Welcome to the Capitol.
The resonance of those four simple words echoed through your thoughts as you sat in the grand living room of your family's penthouse. The room was bathed in soft, golden light, a stark contrast to the surreal scenes that played out on the broadcast, straight from the Capitol's zoo.
After Coriolanus had greeted Lucy Gray on the platform, exchanging a few words with the young tribute, he turned to you, his eyes filled with determination as the girl was now walking away, heading toward a boy from her district.
“I should go with her,” he said with a sense of urgency in his voice as he glanced back at the girl in the rainbow dress.
“What do you mean?” your brows knitted in confusion, asking a question which redirected his gaze to you.
“I should escort her to her accommodation, I must show her that I am trustworthy,” he explained in haste and without waiting for your response, he stepped to the side and reached out to get the attention of one of the Peacekeepers by lightly touching the man's arm.
“Excuse me,” Coriolanus began. “I’m Coriolanus Snow from the Academy.” He nodded toward Lucy Gray. “This tribute has been assigned to me for the Hunger Games. I wonder if I might accompany her to her quarters.”
The Peacekeeper's gaze flitted over Coriolanus' shoulder, briefly meeting yours before responding, “That’s why you've been hanging around here all morning? To catch a ride to the show?” He granted permission for Coriolanus to join the tributes, adding, “Just you,” as he directed his attention to the transport truck destined for the tributes.
Your gaze followed the Peacekeeper's, and as you glimpsed the vehicle awaiting the tributes, your mouth fell open in surprise. Stepping closer to Coriolanus, you took his hand.
“You're not going to get in there, are you, Coryo?” your concern shifted from the truck to Coriolanus, your brows furrowing as you made a plea through your eyes. The transport before you resembled a wheeled animal cage, starkly underscoring the Capitol's dehumanization of the tributes.
“I can't leave her alone,” Coriolanus stated, briefly glancing your way before gently pulling his hand away and moving toward the vehicle.
“Yes, you can,” you protested, following closely behind him as the first tributes began to enter the cage.
“Everything will be fine, Y/N,” Coriolanus reassured you, pausing near the truck. He looked down at you and spoke calmly, trying to ease the visible anxiety on your face. He brushed tenderly a strand of hair behind your ear and held your gaze. “Go home and don't worry, I'll come visit you later, okay?”
“You don't have to do this, Coryo…”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, turning to face the vehicle. He made eye contact with Lucy Gray and not even a moment had passed when he was already climbing onto the truck.
You wanted to say more, to stop him from taking this step, but you understood it was too late. Coriolanus had already made up his mind, and he wasn't one to back down. You anxiously bit your lip, a silent witness as the truck's door slammed shut. A few moments later, the engine roared to life, taking Coriolanus away from you.
Anxiety weighed heavily on your heart as you stood there like a helpless spectator. As the vehicle departed, it stirred up dust, leaving you in loneliness on the platform. You played distracted with the strands of hair Coriolanus had so gently tucked behind your ear. The fading truck held your gaze captive, making it nearly impossible to look away.
Though it felt like an eternity, only a few seconds had passed since Coriolanus had left your side. You took a deep breath, finally releasing your hair from your anxious fingers. With fresh determination, you made your way toward the train station's exit, whispering reassuring words to yourself. You held on to the belief that everything would be all right and that Coriolanus would soon return, just as he had promised, to stand at your doorstep.
Now you were fixated on the television screen, preoccupied in the spectacle playing out in the Capitol's monkey house. Your eyes were following Lucy Gray closely while keeping an eye out for Coriolanus in the background. Your family, including your parents and sister, sat alongside you, intrigued by the broadcast as much as you were.
“What's he doing there?” your father asked, a furrow of confusion creasing his brow. Both your parents held a deep affection for young Snow, but your father had a particular respect for him. He remembered Coriolanus's father, a general during the First Rebellion, and believed him to be a positive influence on you.
“Seems like he's doing his best,” you replied, though your words carried a hint of uncertainty. You were well aware of Coriolanus's determination to shine in his role, to demonstrate to the entire Capitol that the Snow name always remained at the top. And you supported him wholeheartedly, but there was a distinct difference between assuring him of his abilities in the quiet moments and witnessing it all unfold.
After a moment, the metal door of the monkey house slid open, and Coriolanus's voice reached your ears. “Thank you for being with us today. Remember, this is Lucy Gray Baird from the Twelfth District. Drop by the zoo in your free time to say hello. I promise it's worth to meet her.”
Your lip was nervously bitten as you observed Coriolanus planting a tender kiss on Lucy Gray's hand, which she extended for a good bye. When his lips touched her skin, you experienced an unfamiliar sensation. You couldn't quite name the emotion or pinpoint its origin, but it left you feeling uneasy. You couldn't make sense of the emotion's complexity, but you knew you didn't like what you saw, which felt irrational.
As Coriolanus disappeared behind the closing metal door, you reached for the TV remote and switched off the device with a single click. You sank back into the sofa cushions, a heavy sigh escaping your lips, your thoughts in chaos.
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Days after Coriolanus's first meeting with Lucy Gray, you couldn't escape the creeping sense of distance that was growing between you and the man who had once been your closest companion. It was as if a heavy cloud of isolation hung over you, casting a shadow on the bond you had cherished for so many years.
His devotion to the Games and his newly formed relationship with Lucy Gray was undeniable, and it began to overshadow the connection you had nurtured for what felt like a lifetime. It was disheartening to witness each passing day pull him further into the role of mentor, to see him dedicating hours upon hours to planning strategies, discussing tactics, and offering unwavering emotional support to Lucy Gray.
You yearned to remain supportive, to be the pillar that he had leaned on for so long, but an unsettling feeling gnawed at you, a feeling of slowly but surely being relegated to the outskirts of his life, as if your importance was diminishing.
Your thoughts on Coriolanus and his rapidly growing relationship with Lucy Gray were a storm of conflicting emotions. On one hand, you couldn't help but respect his unwavering dedication to his role as a mentor, his sincere desire to succeed, and his wholehearted commitment to the Games. Yet, on the other hand, a bitter mixture of jealousy and hate welled up within you. Your place in his life was steadily being eclipsed by someone new, someone unique and gifted. While you had never personally known Coriolanus's mother, you had heard numerous stories that depicted her as a paragon of gentleness and a lover of music—traits you found mirrored in Lucy Gray. It was no wonder that Coriolanus held her in such high regard.
This acknowledgment was a bitter pill to swallow, leaving a lingering taste of sorrow. It simply made you wondering where you now stood in Coriolanus's heart.
But the turning point came just few days after the tributes' arrival in the Capitol when the mentors and their pupils were granted access to the Arena. It was a rare opportunity for the tributes to gain insight into the brutal challenge that awaited them, and Coriolanus was determined to provide Lucy Gray the guidance she so desperately needed.
However, as the mentors and tributes wander into the Arena, a sudden wave of chaos shattered the peace. Two deafening explosions rocked the surroundings, plunging everyone into a maelstrom of fear and pandemonium. Coriolanus was one of the few injured, and he was hurriedly transported to the hospital, where his medical condition was taken care of by Capitol’s nurses.
The following day, he gradually woke up from unconsciousness. You had spend a sleepless night, filled with relentless worry, and now, as you sat by his bedside, a mix of emotions swirled within you. Relief flowed over you like a gentle balm, yet it couldn't wholly assuage the profound concern that continued to clutch at your heart.
When you heard what happened in the Arena, you had immediately asked your father to drive you to the hospital. You were consumed by nervousness for Coriolanus, and the misery he endured within the Arena's walls filled you with a sickening dread. The mere thought of it sent unpleasant shivers down your spine.
As his eyes slowly blinked open, meeting yours, a soft and heartfelt smile graced your lips. “You're awake,” you murmured softly, your voice a blend of relief and worry. “How are you feeling? What happened?” The concern in your eyes was undeniable, reflecting the depth of your worry for his well-being.
“Y/N?” Coriolanus croaked in a hoarse voice. He cleared his throat quickly and sought out the hand that belonged to you, gently squeezing it. “Hi,” he said with a forced smile.
The touch of his hand in yours was a silent promise of connection and comfort. You could see the remnants of fatigue and distress in his eyes, but the smile he summoned, even if forced, warmed your heart.
You couldn't help but lean in closer, your voice gentle and filled with compassion. “I was so worried about you,” you confessed, your concern unmistakable in your tone. “What happened in the Arena? Are you in pain?”
Coriolanus's grip on your hand tightened slightly, and he began to recount the harrowing events. He painted a vivid picture of the chaos, the disarray, and the sheer panic that had gripped them when the bombs exploded. His narrative was disturbing, and as he spoke, the weight of the trauma he had endured seemed to settle upon both of you.
After sharing his part of the story, Coriolanus momentarily fell silent, allowing the unspoken question to linger in the air. It was as if he awaited your inquiry about Lucy Gray, the unspoken thread that connected him to the tribute under his wing. But before you could voice your concern, he gently cleared his throat and, in a voice still laced with the remnants of his hoarseness, asked, “How is Lucy Gray? Is she okay?”
“I-I don’t know,” you answered honestly, your brow gently furrowing with concern. The truth was, Lucy Gray hadn't occupied your thoughts even once. In fact, you hadn't even considered your friends that were taking the place of the mentors, let alone the tributes arriving from the districts. Instead, it was all Coriolanus who had consumed your mind, leaving little room for anyone or anything else.
In response to your uncertainty, Coriolanus offered assurance, though it felt like he was speaking more to himself than to you. “She's strong,” he affirmed, the words laden with the weight of his concern for Lucy Gray. “She saved my life,” he added, and the profound gratitude in his voice was palpable, underscoring the remarkable bond that had formed between the two of them.
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In the following days, you made every effort to stay close to Coriolanus whenever you could. The recent events in the Arena had deeply affected both of you, and the mere thought of something similar occurring in the Capitol filled you with dread. You genuinely believed, albeit mistakenly, that your presence could act as a protective shield, guarantee his safety.
Your intentions were sincere and born out of concern, but with each passing day, it became increasingly evident that Coriolanus was becoming increasingly annoyed by your constant presence. While at first he may have appreciated your support, the demands of his mentorship duties and the complexities of preparing Lucy Gray for her role in the 10th Hunger Games began to make your company more of a obstacle than a help.
Tensions, which had once been nonexistent, began to mount, and the nature of your relationship with Coriolanus was going through a sudden changes. You found yourself facing the reality that your kindhearted attempts to shield him were, in fact, pushing him further away when your intention had been quite the opposite, to draw closer.
On your special day, your birthday, you had looked forward to finally spending some quality time with Coriolanus. It was a day where you had hoped to enjoy each other's company, seeking a break from his intense mentorship and the relentless demands of the Capitol.
However, as the hours progressed, it became clear that something had shifted between you and Coriolanus. The atmosphere grew heavy with tension, and the warmth that had once defined your relationship seemed to have suddenly faded away.
In a moment of frustration, Coriolanus addressed you with an unusual severity, his words slicing through the silence like shards of ice. “Y/N,” he began, “I can't focus on my tasks with you always around. Your presence is causing disruption and complicating my already challenging responsibilities.”
His words hit you like a heavy blow, causing a deep confusion. It was the first time he had spoken to you with such detachment and coldness, and the realisation that you had become a burden rather than a source of comfort weighed heavily on you.
Puzzled by this sudden change in his behavior, you furrowed your brow and sought clarity. “Hm?” you responded, your voice reflecting your growing uncertainty.
Coriolanus's gaze remained unyielding, his demeanor stern and distant. This was a stark contrast to the Coriolanus you had known, the one who had always been warm and caring.
In an attempt to understand the extent of this transformation, you pressed further. "I don't understand," you began, your voice trembling slightly, “It's my birthday, and I had hoped we could spend some time together.”
The weight of his disapproval and your own sense of isolation bore down on you, as if you stood on the edge of a vast divide that separated you from the Coriolanus you had once known.
After a prolonged silence, Coriolanus finally spoke, his words carrying a chilly detachment that cut deep. “I have responsibilities to fulfill. You must understand that my focus needs to be on my duties as a mentor. Your presence is truly annoying, and I can't afford being distracted.”
Another pause followed before he continued, his gaze unwavering. “You need to grasp that the world doesn't revolve around you, Y/N. You are not the most important person here. You celebrate your birthday every year, but I only have one chance to win a scholarship, and I must seize it.”
The weight of his words pressed upon you, and you couldn't help but asked next question. “Coryo,” you said, your voice wavering with confusion and a deep hurt, “Is being a mentor more important to you than me?”
He met your gaze with an unflinching intensity and replied without hesitation, “Yes.”
The blunt simplicity of his answer cut deeply, leaving you stunned and grappling with a hurricane of emotions. It was as if the ground beneath your feet had shifted, and you were standing on unfamiliar terrain. You had believed that your connection was unbreakable, that your presence in each other's lives was irreplaceable. Now, the stark reality was that his ambitions and duties had eclipsed your place in his heart.
The words echoed in your mind, and you struggled to make sense of what had just come to light. The pain welled up within you, but you didn't cry just yet. Instead, you were left feeling disoriented and wounded, your heart heavy with a sense of loss.
“You need to understand that my future, my education, and my family's reputation all ride on this scholarship. It's an opportunity I can't afford to miss. It doesn't mean I don't care about you, but right now, my focus has to be on the Games and my duties as a mentor,” Coriolanus explained, his tone softer now as he realized the harshness of his previous words, words that you certainly didn't deserve.
You bit your lip, looking down at your shoes and fidgeting with your hands. “I miss you, Coryo,” you admitted, your eyes still avoiding his. “I miss the old you. I can't remember the last time you asked how I was doing, or held my hand. I'm the one worrying about you all the time, and it feels like you're treating me like... like someone you can just hire,” you finally lifted your gaze to meet his, searching for any sign of remorse for the pain he had caused.
But he remained silent, his lips tightly pressed into a thin line.
“I just feel like Lucy Gray has become more important to you than I am,” you continued, your disbelief clear in your voice.
“It's not like that…” he sighed finally.
“And what is it like?”
“Lucy Gray is... she's special, of course she is. She's the only path leading me to victory.”
You shook your head in disbelief. “If she's just a pawn in your game, then why do you look at her like you're falling in love with her more and more every day?”
The question hung in the air, the weight of it pressing down on both of you. Coriolanus's gaze wavered for a moment, as if caught off guard by the directness of your words. It was a question he hadn't fully considered, and the emotional complexity of his feelings was now inescapable.
“I can't explain it, Y/N,” he finally admitted, his voice tinged with a hint of frustration. “Lucy Gray is... she's unlike anyone I've ever met. She's captivating in a way I can't fully grasp.”
Your heart felt like it had been ripped from your chest, and you staggered back, away from him, unable to bear the weight of his words.
“So what are you saying now?” you asked, your voice quivering, as though hoping he could provide some clarity.
Coriolanus hesitated, his frustration giving way to a deep conflict within him. He ran a trembling hand through his almost white hair, a sign of the inner chaos that now consumed him.
“I'm saying that things have changed,” he said, his voice trailing off. “I can't deny that Lucy Gray has become a significant part of my life, and it's... complicated.”
The distance between you and Coriolanus had grown into an overwhelming chasm. You took another step back, increasing the physical space between you, though you knew it couldn't stitch the emotional void that now divided you.
“What does that mean for us, Coryo?” you asked, your voice quivering and your heart heavy with sadness and uncertainty. “Are we... Are we over?”
Coriolanus didn't respond immediately, his gaze distant as he searched for an answer in the distance. When his eyes finally met yours again, they held the pain of a man caught between two worlds.
“I don't want to say that, Y/N,” he replied, his voice full of anguish. “But right now, I need to focus on the Games. We can't pretend that things are the same as they were.”
As Coriolanus's words fell heavily between you, the room seemed to close in, and the storm of emotions within you reached a turbulent peak. Your voice wavered, a lump forming in your throat, while tears welled up, blurring your vision. Your heart ached with an amalgamation of anger, betrayal, and a searing sense of loss.
“Is that all, Coryo?” you cried out, your voice breaking, a mixture of anguish and fury lacing your words. “After everything we've been through, everything we meant to each other, it comes down to this? You're just going to cast me aside because of some girl from the Districts? I thought we had something special, something that overstep all this madness.”
Coriolanus's face mirrored your emotions. He extended his hand towards you in an attempt to bridge the growing chasm, but as your trembling form took one more step back, his outstretched fingers hung in the air.
“This isn't what I wanted,” Coriolanus said, the weight of the situation heavy in his voice. “But I can't change it, Y/N. I can't let anything threaten my chances in the Games.”
Your voice, now tinged with bitterness and a mixture of anger and despair. “You know what, Snow? I hope your beloved Lucy Gray meets an end sooner than you now expect,” you spat out, your words dripping with frustration and a sense of betrayal.
With those final, cutting words, you turned away, your shoulders heaving with the weight of your own tears. As you walked away, leaving him alone under the monkey house building, the pain of the crack that had torn through your relationship gnawed at your soul, a wound that may never fully heal.
Your intentions were far from those words; you genuinely wanted the best for him. Yet, in that moment, you realised that the fear of losing might have been the one thing that truly wounded Coriolanus.
part three »
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seat-safety-switch · 4 months
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Trains are the original self-driving cars. They go on special roads, and you don't have to pay attention to what's going on. In some countries, you get to finish reading your pocket novel, get up from your seat, walk to a bar, and start getting completely ass-hammered drunk, while still arriving on time. That's what futurists want, and by golly, we're not going to give it to them.
Me, I at least try to be a bit internally consistent with my criticism of other things. Review it fairly, using a set of agreed-upon quantitative criteria. You can do a burnout in a train, so that's a big plus. Powerslides, not so much. Curvy mountain roads? Yes. Four wheel drive? I have absolutely no idea, so let's say yes. Boxy, has a 1970s aesthetic, and smells bad? You bet. On the balance, trains are pretty close to my ideal vehicle, but you're not working to convince me. You're working to convince The Decision Makers.
Why? Think about it: at what point in your life did the obviously superior and cheaper alternative win out over the messy one? I don't think that I have ever seen such a thing occur, and I have been around long enough to remember when people weren't openly mocked in public for Ford ownership. Folks get a little upset that the train doesn't go exactly where they want, and suddenly it's an infeasible transport device.
That's why I've got a really good idea. You see, the railways have these special trucks that go on the tracks. Those trucks have little wheels that pop out and run on the tracks, and when it's time for them to do regular-truck stuff, they pop the wheels back up and drive wherever they want. So let's do that for every car, and just call the railways "ultra-glide high-speed superways" or something stupid like that. It'll be really popular, so popular that we'll need to build more tracks so that we're not constantly waiting for assholes to clear the switching yard on our way to the grocery store.
When the entire world is consumed by railway tracks and a million idiots screaming down them while sawing uselessly at their steering wheels, you can thank me profusely. I didn't do anything other than follow the path set out in front of me.
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weirdmarioenemies · 1 month
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Name: Insectiride
Debut: Mario Party 6
Mario and friends get up to all sorts of shenanigans! Many of these are dangerous shenanigans, and I would prefer not to get involved with them. If I were to fall in lava or be hit by a barrage of hammers thrown by a turtle, I would Die! I lament this fact, but I am no scrimblo. However, some of the antics are good safe fun, and that includes the act of racing in funny bug-shaped vehicles! I wish I could do that in real life!
Though there is a snail among these insects, for the sake of simplicity, I will call all these creatures Bugs. I usually reserve that term for arthropods, but I don't feel like saying "creepy-crawlies" a bunch of times in this post like some kind of Talking Flower. So Bugs. There are some people who'd call a snail a bug without even a disclaimer! Can you imagine that?
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Players begin Insectiride by choosing their vehicle out of the four unique options! I think I played this minigame once and I THINK I used the grasshopper. I think it still might be my favorite! I'm sorry to this snail, but I don't like it much. It looks like pizza, and I like pizza a lot- I regularly observe #pizzafriday- but it's just not the sort of thing I'd like a snail's skin to remind me of.
Each of these bugs has its own control scheme! The player on the ladybug must press the indicated button ten times quickly to make it crawl forward a bit. The player on the grasshopper must press a sequence of various buttons to make it hop forward a few times. The player on the stag beetle must press each indicated button that appears one at a time, each press making it push along a bit. And finally, the player on the snail must press A when its body extends fully to make it pull the shell along behind.
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When playing this with humans, there is probably no one Best Bug to reliably choose, since human reaction time must be taken into account. If playing against ambitious robots, however, there is absolutely an imbalance! In tool-assisted speedruns, Grasshopper is the winner, followed by Ladybug, Stag Beetle, and poor Snail in last...
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Mario Party 6 is a Koopa Kid Game! And there is official art of him riding the funny ladybug mechanism! I'm glad he got to have fun here. We all know he isn't having fun where he is now... in the Purgatory Zone... poor kid. Oh well! That's life!
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Those were the only four bug vehicles present in Insectiride, but in Mario Party 3's Ridiculous Relay, there was another! Way before all the rest! Here we have a Skeeter-inspired contraption, allowing the operator to maneuver across the surface of the water! I think this would be the main mode of transportation in Wet-Dry World, for those who are not already Skeeters. Between being a mecharthropod and having a strange control scheme that must be displayed to the player, I would not at all be surprised if this was an inspiration for Insectiride!
Now don't think you're getting out of this post without some real Bug Facts! Humans, of course, are much too large to ride on a bug. To be small enough to ride a bug, you would have to be a bug yourself. And some bugs do indeed do this! This is phoresy, the interaction in which one animal will latch onto another animal for the purpose of travel. Usually, the hitchhiker will be a tiny arachnid such as a mite (including ticks), or my favorite arachnid, a pseudoscorpion!
Phoresy is EXTREMELY funny to me. A teensy little critter will just grab onto the leg of a fly or something, and away they will go! Hang on tight! This is a type of symbiosis known as commensalism, where one organism (in this case, the one hanging on) benefits, while the other (the host) is largely unaffected. Humans riding horses is another example of phoresy! A human can be like a mite sometimes. Ok, see you later! *grabs onto a hoverfly's leg and flies away*
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quirkwizard · 27 days
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Hi-Dee-Ho Quizard. So I was wondering how like traveling would have been affected by quirks? Like surely they would have needed to change airplanes or create special vehicles to accommodate the new genetic society they were thrust into.
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Believe it or not, I don't think much would change, at least with travel itself. Considering how everyone is still mostly human-shaped, there isn't much incentive for change things. However, this is one of those cases where things should have changed but likely didn't. Something like a brand of clothing is ultimately pretty easy to produce for someone with specific physical needs, but what about something like a car or a bus? That's going to require sweeping changes or specific alterations to be made to accommodate an ultimately small portion of the population. If Hori wanted to point out how society hasn't properly accommodated the rise of Quirks, transportation would have been a good way to show it. I can imagine someone like Shoji having issues fitting in with his massive arms.
Though for traveling itself, I think there would be a lot of changes to how things are handled. Because now someone can get onto the plane with two bombs basically strapped to their hands that you cannot remove. I would have to think that something like the Air Marshalls would be supplemented by heroes to prevent any hijackings or if some guy gets too nervous on his flight and unleashes an EMP. Meanwhile, there could be a case where pirates are more brazenly attacking ships to raid and ransom people now that they have something like Quirks to help them. Which makes me wonder if there could be something like international heroes, ones that travel with cargo and cruise ships on open waters to protect them. Or if the Quirk laws would even apply to international waters.
On that note, I would have to think that certain kinds of extra restrictions and measures would be put into place to keep people from abusing their Quirks or even traveling. I'm not even talking about someone like Bakugou and Kamakiri getting checked for extra screening, though that would certainly happen and could help to show more issues with the world. I'm talking more about the Quirks that can make people do bad stuff once they get off the plane. If officials are worried about certain contraband making it across borders, then people are going to be met with a lot of scrutiny if they have any power tied to that. If someone like Momo could create even something as small as banned candy, you better believe they'd be doing a lot of background checks on her and her intentions.
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mysteryshoptls · 11 months
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SSR Deuce Spade Bloom Birthday Personal Story: Part 1
"Happy Birthday"
Part 1 (Part 2) (Part 3)
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[Heartslabyul Dorm – Birthday Party Venue]
Deuce: Getting interviewed like this for my birthday makes me feel too much like the center of attention, that it's got me real nervous.
Deuce: I don't know if I'll be able to answer the questions well… Oh yeah, and I wonder who was picked as my Presenter?
???: Ah, so this is the interview venue. I'm coming in.
Deuce: Welcome… EH!!! DRACONIA-SENPAI!?!?!?
Malleus: It seems I made it before it was set to begin. Spade, Happy Birthday.
Deuce: Eh, Uh, Y-Yes. Thank you very much! I wasn't expecting Draconia-senpai to be my Presenter…
Malleus: What is the issue, are you unhappy having me with you a happy birthday?
Deuce: NO, NOT AT ALL!!
Malleus: Heh, is that right. Then, I shall begin the interview. The first question is…
Malleus: “If you could use flight magic to go anywhere, where would you like to go?”
Malleus: It appears you do not have to consider your own magical reserves.
Deuce: If I don't have to think about that, then…
Deuce: I want to go see a magical wheel race. And, I want to watch from right over the course!
Malleus: Magical wheel…? What is that?
Deuce: Eh? You don't know magical wheels!? It's a real popular vehicle!
Malleus: Ah… That mechanical mode of transport. Is it so popular so as to garner races?
Deuce: Yeah! There's always so many different types of races going on out there.
Deuce: The one that's most common is the type of race where the racers'll compete for the fastest time around the racetrack.
Deuce: And there's also the super impressive endurance races that goes on for 24 hours
Deuce: If it's a popular race, then it's basically impossible to get a ticket to watch in person, so so many people watch it on TV!
Malleus: Oho, I see. But, if you are able to watch it on television, why do you wish to use your flight magic to go watch it in person?
Malleus: Moreover, you said you wished to watch it "right over the course," which suggests to me that you do not wish to simply watch the race.
Deuce: Whenever I watch through a TV broadcast, they jump around from racer to racer, so I can't watch just the racers and machines I want to.
Deuce: Even if I got to watch it from the stands, I don't think I'd be able to see what was going on other than the bit of the racetrack I could see.
Deuce: But if I was flying, then I can follow the racers I want to watch from the sky!
Deuce: And since I wouldn't have to care about my magical reserves, I'd get to keep on flying no matter how long the races goes on for!
Malleus: I see. That is one way to watch the race.
Deuce: Right!? Aaah, if I could watch them as much as I want, from wherever I want, I bet I'd learn a ton…
Deuce: Like, how they take the curves, how they brake… Ah, and how they tune the machines in the pit!
Deuce: I'd probably have to fly real careful to make sure I don't get in the way of any of the racers, or distract them, though…
Malleus: You seem to really be fond of those magical wheels, Spade.
Deuce: Yes, I love them! …Ah, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to get all worked up on my own…
Malleus: Nothing to fret over. You are the birthday boy today, after all.
Deuce: Thank you very much…! I'll do my best on the next question too.
Part 1 (Part 2) (Part 3)
Requested by Anonymous.
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phoenixyfriend · 11 months
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Ko-Fi Prompt from @apprendere:
Economics topic: ethical investing (what definitions are they using when companies like amazon are on lists of ethical/social/green stocks?)
This one took me a bit of research 😅
My first instinct is that those are frequently greenwashing, and that any individual company needs to be investigated for those claims, personally, before actually going ahead to invest. I'm generally hesitant to call most investment/stocks ethical, but there are ways and reasons for ethics in the given industry (as discussed here with @rhokitten and @dasnya).
Green-chip stocks are, by name, a play on blue-chip stocks (established, stable, reliable companies that are unlikely to waver overly much if the economy takes a bad turn). Green chip companies are those that claim to be environmentally sustainable, or to support the environment in some way. If the company in question is one that works directly in environmental sustainability, such as solar panels or wind farms or organic farming tools, that's probably not a lie.
However... you also get companies like Ford claiming to be green. Now, from what I can tell so far, they have been cutting down on carbon emissions for two decades now, but any large company that historically relies on gas or oil claiming to be green is... a bit questionable. The Climate Town video on Carbon Offsets is a good primer on understanding how large transportation and vehicle manufacturing companies can use 'green' language to claim progress while effectively not changing any of their practices. With Ford, we've seen minor cuts in manufacturing pollution, but as this Guardian article points out, they still advertise for massive cars with terrible mpg... which is a related issue, because said massive cars, the SUVs and 'extended cab' pickups are unregulated compared to sedans and other, smaller vehicles (see: Not Just Bikes video).
Ford spends a lot of money advertising a car that is the opposite of green, and doesn't actually provide a use for the vast majority of people buying it. Unless you work in an industry where you need to haul large, dirty equipment on the regular, like on a farm or in construction or landscaping, you don't need a pick-up truck. And if you do work in those industries, an extended cab is generally not helpful.
So Ford is talking good game, but... is it following through? That's up for debate.
You mentioned Amazon, so I went to look at their Climate Pledge Fund. They mention a "net-zero carbon goal," which already sends up red flags, as explained in the aforementioned Carbon Offsets video. They do seem to be investing in a lot of companies that will theoretically make their future work have less of an environmental impact; the companies include electric vehicles, renewable energy, and custom packaging to reduce waste. It all sounds good.
But what do the critics say?
In this Thomson Reuters Foundation article, Khalil Abdullah addresses how Amazon has historically hidden most of its information on environmental impacts, engaged in a number of greenwashing campaigns, and shoved numbers on its enormous pollution under the rug. Yet, despite this, it remains on the list of companies that the ESG (environmental, social, and governance) investors consider a viable choice, because it's... easy. It's a good investment financially, so they can just... look away from the complications, because the money and reputation is enough.
In my eyes, the concept of green stock is yet another form of greenwashing, one with no actual, specified definition, which means it's about as useful in understanding your investments as words like 'organic.' Unfortunately, it looks like this is going to continue being one of the ways companies lie to us, and any individual investment needs to be examined thoroughly before we can figure out what it is that we're actually supporting.
My suggestion would be to look into companies that are acting directly in support of environmentalism (solar and wind are probably safe), have a long and transparent history of environmentalism, from before it was trendy, or are small, local, and maybe new enough that they aren't killing the environment in the name of economies of scale.
Maybe if you get in early enough, you can grab enough shares to have a positive impact on future green initiatives!
(Prompt me on ko-fi!)
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fortooate · 2 years
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One Star
by Margaret Killjoy
I was just trying to get to Cambridge from downtown Boston, go see my friend. Should have taken twenty minutes with traffic. I didn't want to take the T, not with the kinds of chemical sniffers they'd been setting up at the entry. I didn't know if they could smell graff supplies.
So I downloaded that new app, registered it to a pre-paid Visa, and called for a Taxy.
The summer sun cut through the heavy, humid air. People around me were yelling, because that's what people do in the city, they yell.
The Taxy rolled up to the curb, matte black. It looked liked it wanted to disappear into the night, even in the day. What hacker doesn't want to roll in a matte black self-driving car?
I got into the passenger seat. There wasn't a driver seat. I pulled on the safety harness, two shoulder belts that clipped together right in front of my navel. The AC was blasting, and I held my hands up to the vent to let the cold air blow the sweat right off me.
"Hello, Nic," it said. Like, out of the dashboard, but over on the driver side. As if there were a driver.
"Hey," I said.
It cut out from the curb and back into traffic, deferring to human-driven cars but damned aggressive amongst the rest of the automated vehicles. It stopped for people at crosswalks and corners. Just yesterday, Jae had told me that self-driving cars just equated cell phones with people, in order to navigate through dense crowds. Jae was always going on like that; she cared more about the insides of machines than people. I liked hanging out with her anyway. Introverts are great: you can spend the night without them trying to sleep with you.
After two turns, the Taxy already looked like it it was heading the wrong direction.
"This isn't the way I usually take," I said. "You redirecting to avoid traffic or something?"
"I regret to inform you that your destination has been marked as a location of potential interest to the police."
I went for the safety harness release. It wouldn't let go.
"The fuck you talking about?"
"This police district requests all principal transportation providers to log passenger information of those traveling to and from specific locations. While customer privacy is of the utmost importance to us, we at Taxy are both required and proud to uphold our legal responsibilities."
"So why you driving the wrong way?"
"Unfortunately, the information provided in your account with Taxy does not match any existing police records. A request has been made to transport you to the station so they may identify you before we may proceed to your destination. Your account will not be charged for the additional time and distance. This matter is not criminal, and you are not facing charges or fines."
"Unlock my seatbelt." I'd be facing charges and fines soon enough if the cops took a look into my purse. Unregistered phone, paint pens. I ripped at the straps, but of course they were designed to hold up to a lot more force than I could manage with just my hands.
"Taxy would like to apologize for any inconvenience or delay."
"Aww hell no," I said. I got out my multitool, flipped open the knife, and started into one of the shoulder belts up where it connected to the seat beside my head. It was hard going—the webbing was reinforced with steel mesh. I had to switch over to the pliers, go at it strand by strand.
"All Taxy vehicles have been certified to the highest standard of customer safety. Our patented safety harnesses meet or exceed gold standard."
"Don't give me that shit. I know the difference between tensile strength and shear strength, you autobot-fucker." You could make a strap hard to snap without making it hard to cut.
We'd made it into the robot-only lane and the car was picking up speed. I didn't have long before I was going to be looking at a year for graffiti paraphernalia, and I wouldn't put it past them to slap on intent to vandalize.
"In my communications with the officers, I've realized you managed to fill out your Taxy registration without indicating a gender. What pronoun would you prefer I use to refer to you?"
"Are you kidding me, HAL? You want to know my pronoun preference?"
"We here at Taxy strive to provide the best possible experience for all of our customers regardless of their respective gender identities."
"I don't even have a fucking gender!"
"Your preference for the pronoun 'they' has been registered."
I cut through the last wire on one strap of my harness and started to weasel my way out.
"I regret to inform you that you will be held financially liable for any damage you cause to Taxy property. Your actions will be reviewed, and if they are deemed malicious, they will be treated as criminal."
I was free from the harness. Leaned back in my seat, started kicking at the glass. Didn't do any good. I pulled my tanktop off and wrapped it around my hand. I pummeled at the glass with my closed pliers. But the glass was tempered, likely meant to take bullets.
Taxy was the safest vehicle in the world.
I opened the glove box. Empty but for some courtesy mints. Searched the back seat. Nothing else in the damn car.
Alright. It was a technical problem. I just needed to solve it, or I'd spend six months in some privatized prison that wouldn't be quite so accommodating of gender differences as Taxy. Hell, I'd miss my sister's graduation just waiting for trial.
It was fine. I'd figure it out. Just had to keep my breath under control, keep panic at bay.
I went through my phone, found Jae. Covered the screen of the phone from any camera in the ceiling, then opened up a secure text app.
"your damn house is tagged"
I saw those three dots right away. She was already typing back. That girl lived on her phone, I swear.
"what do you mean, tagged?"
"taxy is taking me to the cops because i told it to take me to your place"
My phone started ringing, right off. I answered.
"Why in the fucking name of christ's personal hell did you tell a robot car to take you to my place?"
Usually, I liked Jae's voice. Kind of gravelly and charming. Wasn't charming just then.
"Why the fuck wouldn't I?"
"Because sometimes people like us break the law," Jae said.
"Help me get out of here."
"Just roll with it and keep your mouth shut. We'll get you a lawyer."
"Fuck that, Jae. Send a drone or something, usual access code. I'll figure it out."
She took a deep breath in. She didn't like my plan, didn't like me dragging her into it, either.
"Where are you?"
"I'm on Soldier's Field Road. I think it's taking me to the robot-only bridge."
But I wasn't sure if Jae heard that, because my service cut out.
"Fuck!" I started hitting the dash with my fists. "Fuck fuck fuck!"
"I regret to inform you that, upon review, your destructive actions have been deemed potentially criminal. Owing to arrest protocol, outside communications have been disabled."
A deployable Faraday cage, woven into the frame of the vehicle's cabin. Blocked cell signals. Luxury cars advertised it as a family road trip feature, presumably for families that hated their kids.
Boston was rushing by way too fast. On the Charles, Harvard guys were rowing their row-team yuppie canoes.
Any plan I could come up with, if I got caught, I'd be looking at a real bid. If I went to prison for stealing or destroying a Taxy, I'd spend at least the rest of my twenties packaging chain store coffee for forty cents an hour.
Jae was right. She was usually right. Better just roll with it. I let my breathing get deeper. Tried to relax, tried to give up.
"If you find our service useful, please consider rating us five stars on the App Store."
Fuck this Taxy. I was getting out. Double or nothing. I started tapping out a program on my phone.
"Hey car," I said, still writing.
"Yes Nic?"
"You got a name?"
"My name is Taxy."
"What about your pronoun?"
"I prefer when others refer to me as 'it.'"
"How do you communicate when the Faraday cage is deployed? Is your brain outside of it?"
"I will not answer that question."
I guess you can't play the same kinds of get-them-talking tricks on cars you can play on people. "Is your brain in the trunk or the hood?" I asked.
"I will not answer that question."
"Are you intelligent?"
"While I am capable of adding rudimentary instructions to my own programming, I am not what could be considered a true artificial intelligence."
"How do you make ethical decisions, then?"
"I do not understand."
"You're a death machine, right? You hit some dude when you're going sixty, and he's just walking his dog or some shit, then he's dead and his dog, you just killed his dog too. But if you try and stop too fast, you might roll and kill your passenger. You swerve, same issue. It's that train problem. Ethics."
"The trolley problem."
"Yeah, the fucking trolley problem."
We weren't two minutes from the bridge into Cambridge, and probably another two from there to jail. I got back into that safety harness, what was left of it, while my thumbs tapped faster on my screen than I would have thought they could go. Hoped Jae had heard me, hoped she'd sent the drone.
"In order to be legal on the road in Massachusetts, I am programmed to prioritize saving the greatest number of human lives. I am sorry if you feel I do not adequately prioritize you, the customer. I am bound by the constraints of law. But I assure you, traveling in a Taxy is nearly two thousand percent safer than if a human were at the wheel."
I saw a quadcopter hanging over the bridge. Small, kind of uneven in its hovering. Had to be Jae's.
"Hey, car," I said.
"Taxy."
"Fuck you, car." I opened the glovebox, put my feet up on the dash for leverage, grabbed the lip of the glovebox with my pliers, and pulled. Heard something crack. I brought my foot down on the open glovebox door. Again. Again. The plastic gave out, and I jammed my phone into the crack I'd made at the back of the glovebox. Past the damn Faraday cage.
We turned onto the bridge, going fifty, and the drone got its signal.
Jae kept three phones on her quadcopters. An autonomous brain, a camera, and a redundancy that stayed off by default. Three cellular devices. That counted as three people. But only the brain was likely to be on, so Taxy here was only counting one up in the sky.
My program forced the drone to shoot down to the pavement, switching on its camera and redundancy as it went, and I clung to the harness with all I had.
Taxy swerved, and I saw the guardrail coming. Then I was weightless and there was just a wall of water in front of me. Taxy and I crashed through the surface of the river then bobbed back up before I had time to think.
Pain ran through my shoulder. It was probably dislocated.
Taxy didn't say a word. My harness came undone, and the door lock clicked open. Emergency protocols. The safest ride in the world.
I grabbed my phone, opened up the App Store page for Taxy. Typed in a new review:
"One star. Drives you to jail."
I opened the door, and the river rushed in. Some Harvard yuppies rowed by in their yuppie canoes, gawking.
I let my purse sink down to the bottom of the river, and swam, one-armed, to shore.
___________________________________________________________
This was, I think, the punchiest story in Margaret Killjoy's new book of collected short stories, We Won't be Here Tomorrow. Hopefully you're enticed, now.
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oldtvandcomics · 5 months
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To get some positivity in this tag: Let me tell you about my recent bustrip to Prague! While narcoleptic. It was really great, and a bit tricky, and I think we can use some stories of disabled people doing fun things.
Background story: I was visiting my grandmother, and took the bus both there and back, because it's different, and because I really wanted to actually see some more of the Europe I spent my life running there and back through (we live in the West, my Grandmother in the East). On the way back, I spent two nights in Prague. It was a highly anticipated part of the trip, as I still kind of miss the city after my one year there. It was also the most tricky part of the whole thing to manage.
You see, my bus arrived at 6.00h, and check-in at the hotel was at 15.00h. Which is a good nine hours between the two.
I am pretty much guaranteed to fall asleep every three to four hours.
Rest of the story under the cut.
For those not aware of the weather right now in Eastern Europe: It's COLD. And SNOWY! So when I arrived at the bus station, my first reaction was pretty much "Nope!", and I went into the bathroom to put on an extra layer of clothes. I was fine after that.
You can walk from UÁN Florenc bus station to the Old Town pretty easily, which I knew because as I said, I've been there before. So I walked there, and stopped to buy myself some breakfast in a big supermarket at a metro station. After that, I went the usual way down to Old Town Square and the clock, and continued on to Charles Bridge.
At that point, it was still only between 7.00h and 8.00h, so of course there was close to nobody on the streets, only the people who had to be there. And snow. Lots of snow. Charles Bridge. People. Charles Bridge, normally black with age and full of tourists, was WHITE! And almost completely empty. I was there at sunrise. It was impossible to describe beautiful.
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Pictures don't do it justice, but here are some. The river. People. The river was damping!
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And yeah, this is Old Town Square.
I usually don't get this magic-place-feeling from Prague, because the people cover it up. Which is actually one of the reasons I like it, they cover up some of the useless noise in my brain, too. I'm more functional in a big city.
Anyway. This was clearly an exception. It really felt like walking in a wintery fairy tale. The only thing missing was a ghost.
After that, I went to the hotel, and dropped off my backpack. I like to travel with a light luggage, which made moving around earlier possible. And hotels are fine keeping luggages locked up in some room before check-in and after check-out.
I then took the tram number 22 direction Nádraží Hostivař. This was planned. One, I know the line, and know that it passes by two big shopping centres. Two, I know that I always fall asleep on any moving vehicle, and public transportation is a reasonably safe place to sleep.
Which is exactly what happened, I woke only when I was at the second shopping centre. So I went and looked at some shops, and bought myself a gift of three ice bear figurines. I sometimes like to take pictures of these plastic figurines, and the snow triggered that. I'm very sorry that I didn't have my actual collection with me. But the bears did a wonderful job, too.
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This was behind a random tank station, where there was a table with benches where the snow was still completely untouched. So I played a little around there.
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Then I took the tram to the other shopping centre, fell asleep again on the way there, looked a bit more at shops, had lunch in the KFC on the top floor and finished my book, then it was already time to take the tram back to the hotel. I fell asleep during that trip again, then I went to the hotel, checked in and got my room. All in all, I had managed to survive those 9+ hours without any greater discomfort, which is, honestly, better than I'd expected.
The end. Here are some more bears from the next day.
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City wildlife. <3
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I've been trying to figure out what I want to say. not that anything I have to say is important; more as a way to think things through.
there's no way to exactly compartmentalize. but if I've realized anything, it's this. in my roughly ten year process of activism and coming to understand social inequity, nothing has radicalized me more then palestine.
nothing has made me more aware of the utter betrayals of our social system. nothing directly at this point, has made me truly see that our political systems can and will turn their backs on human lives when it suits them. it's embarrassing, but it took a scale as big as this to undo 27 years of propaganda that we (as in those in a western capitalist society) have created this system that allows for lives to be wiped out and for others to allow this to happen. how utterly dangerous and cruel. really, you only have to watch so many back to back clips of people being slaughtered right next to clips of rich men in suits chatting casually at the UN like they're not debating over who gets to live or die, to become enraged.
the devastation we were seeing even just a couple days after oct 7th was enough, but when the west did not report or cry over those little lives left all alone to rot in a decomposed hospital like how they wailed over every single israeli hostage - that said everything to me.
I'm sure we're all waiting for the day we can talk about this as a past event and for the palestinians living through it to still be alive to talk about it. for their freedom. but right now, this has changed everything for me. I'm not heavily involved in politics or would pretend like I have a finger on the pulse of anything, but I really do believe, that this has massively shifted things here in north america. note I'm canadian, not american, but regardless, ppl my age and younger have not only never seen such aggressive destruction play out worldwide like this, but more so, been so blatantly lied to and disregarded by their government. their worries quieted, their demands tossed aside; the whole world is calling for a ceasefire, and it's literally like no one in a suit behind a desk can see us. we're screaming and they can't even be asked to look at us. this already fragile line of trust between the public and their politicians, has essentially snapped completely. people like myself, have come into the reality the system & the people in it not only do not care for us, but that they don't need to either. I'm not sure how these politicians in power are going to get people to back them again, when it's becoming very clear to the masses that whatever we have to say doesn't matter to them anyway. it all feels very much like a tipping point, at least to me.
but I'm about to take a hard turn, back to palestine. there was a moment in all this madness that has stuck with me ever since, that I've thought to post about but couldn't verbalize. I think it was AJ who had a clip of it and I've searched their YT pages up and down for the video, but annoyingly cannot find it again - so I apologize that I don't know any names (but if you know what I'm referring to, then PLEASE let me know bc I truly want to know who this happened to). it was early in the war, I believe it was still october.
there was a video from someone who's become one of gaza's media reporters, a man I do not know the name of. from what I understand, he was born and raised there, and did local photography. but like many media personal in gaza, when the war hit, he started to document. he ended up posting a clip that haunts me; he was riding in an ambulance with others that was transporting people to a hospital. while they were riding, people fleeing from what I believe was a bombing stopped the vehicle. they were carrying a baby. the baby was bleeding and bruised and cut, from the recent attack. they pleaded with them, to take the child to the hospital and then placed the baby all alone into this man's arms. imagine that. you're a photographer with no training, caught in the middle of one of the world's bloodiest fights ever witnessed. you're unequipped and frightened. you're just trying to escape with your own life in tact. and then someone hands you a baby. they just place a baby in your arms.
out of nowhere, there's this little life in your hands. blood is cracked over their once soft skin and they're crying, blindly calling out for mom or for dad, who may never come back. their tiny heartbeat hammers under the torn pair of clothes, having narrowly escaped death. but only narrowly. and now, it's yours to bear. a human life, clutching on still, and it's up to you to wrap it in your arms and make sure it lives.
out of everything coming from gaza, I've been unable to shake this image. I just couldn't possibly imagine if that was me. as far as I understand it, this guy wasn't a formal journalist, just a media influencer who photographed and talked about his hometown, no training - and then he's thrown into a warzone. and more, another life is placed onto him.
he handled it, from the clip, very well; kept calm and composed and tried to calm the baby too. I wish I knew, if he was able to help that baby survive. I hope the little life did.
I hope they both did.
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your-thorn · 8 months
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[On Kidnapping and Its Application] {My Speculation and Opinion} Trigger warning for everything. For the yandere community. Block, don't report. Have a good day.
Chapter 2
Last chapter we discussed preparation in a half-hazardous way including aftercare, basic psychology, and some common sense. Here we will highlight one of these topics, and it will be common sense.
Common sense includes the various spectrum of knowledge allowed to everyone or known to a great many people, but can we really call this kind of knowledge common?
Firstly I'll discuss the obvious; employment for us can be spotty or spacey, this is to be expected. To find a job and stick with it can be the most draining thing, but is important to keeping your victim, especially if they are too disabled to keep a job or if you want them to stay at home.
I've heard of some companies using an AI to hire their employees and that there's a way around it (according to reddit, take this with a pinch of salt) by putting that they went to a big university of college (Harvard, Yale, whatever) but then made those words transparent so people can't see it, but the AI can.
Or the old method that companies use as well; lying. (Immediate termination is often the consequence as well as sometimes being blacklisted.)
Or just get a regular job. Your victim will likely not be working (unless you've already had communications with your victim and they have employment, then income won't be too much of an issue.) Even a minimum wage job would be better than nothing.
Make sure they live alone. If they live with their family/significant other then assume people are on alert, even when asleep. Assume every house has a self defense bat, mine does, so I assume every home has one or an equivalent. BE AWARE THAT PEOPLE DO CARRY BLADES/GUNS.
Transportation; a car or motor vehicle is often used. A quiet car would be best, if you don't have one then park your car some distance away before approaching the residence. Make sure you have a plan for getting your victim onto/into your vehicle without too much fussing about.
{Requested ADDITION EDIT OF SEPTEMBER 22 2023/ NOVEMBER 21 2023
How to keep your location a secret? In this day and age your location can be tracked just about anywhere, I have no cure all but I think turning off your phone's location at home is a good bet (because then your last recorded location was at your residence), learning the parts of the phone so you can just pop it out, or just leave it at home. Seriously, just leave it at home or get a burner, I don't know how this works or else I'd give better advise. (Sorry to those who think I'm a guru on this)
If you're stalking then do yourself a favor and look vague; hoodie, sunglasses, a hat, keep your distance. If you must listen in on the target's conversations then get one of those apps for amplifying noise. If you can insert yourself somewhere in your target's life, then do so, it will be easier to gain their trust this way (clubs or online communities are a good way, even if you aren't good at what's being done its better to try than to have never even had the possibility at all)}
[credit to...♡ @lonedarling ♡ for the suggestions]
Check for a security sign in front of the home, the sign will give you the company name, the company has a website, the website will give you information on how they rig the house (or a phone number to call and ask questions as a "potential buyer") granted, some areas (or countries) just don't have these. Use your common sense.
If no security sign is present, then assume these people will sleep lightly, tread with caution and make sure to take your shoes off to avoid excessive noises.
Distribute your weight evenly if they have genuine wood floors as that might create less noise.
!->First time you see the house is time for reconnaissance.<-!
Slip in a few times and get used to their home, walk around and get a feel for the place. Look at the brands they use, their trash, their medication... it is all useful cause then you can look online for the specific stores that carry those products.
!->People will often use a single store for their shopping needs.<-!
If their phone is just lying about... try to unlock it. If you've been paying attention then you have their password.
I purposely left out actually kidnapping them. That should be done in your way, using your mind, but I can add a tip or two if people request it... I won't let you guys flounder if I have a solution...
Now you all have some very useful knowledge... Next I shall discuss the psychology of your typical victim in more detail.
Fin of chapter 2
Author's note: you guys may have more info to add here, please do. I love you guys and I hope you guys have a good day. I'll make the next chapter soon.
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angeltreasure · 10 months
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If I may make a prayer request, I've been crippled by anxiety. I've been in a few nasty car wrecks just a few years apart from one another, and the experience has left me with such severe anxiety around driving, I can't bring myself to do it anymore. It's been three years now that I've driven a car. I still ride in cars with others, but I get so tense over the slightest thing, it makes me fear that if I wear to just try and push through and do it again, any tiny little thing would set off a mini panic attack and I'd cause a wreck. It's awful. I feel like a burden on my loved ones who I have to rely on to go places, and I'm severely limited in job prospects bc I can't drive. It doesn't help that I don't have access to a reliable vehicle to practice anyway, plus outrageous gas prices add another layer of challenge. Please, I feel this is getting in the way of so much in my life, and that most of my other problems would clear up if I could just drive again. It's freedom and independence that I just don't have access to because of my own disordered brain and it's getting in the way of everything. I don't have access to therapy either, and have very little money (again, can't get a job because I can't drive). I just want to be able to get behind the wheel of a car and actually enjoy the process of driving and not freak out if something happens. Cautious but not in a panicky way. Confident but not in a cocky way. Alert but not in a way that's exhausting. Sorry this is so long. Thank you for reading. 🙏🏻
I know this exact feeling and that situation of not having a lot of money. I caused my second car accident in a thunderstorm when I was sharing my mom’s car before I bought my own. The people all around who were witnessing laughed at me and took off. I panicked so much I couldn’t breathe. It meant a mark could be on my insurance and my mom’s for at least 6 years. On top of that I had to rent a car out of my own pocket and give even more to my parents. I was scared that the driver of the other car could drive around to find me or worse, sue me. I was afraid to leave my bedroom. I was scared it would happen again. I felt like I was burden too. As crazy as that sounds, those were real feelings I felt. I had no money for therapy either the only thing that calmed me was God. It took me a while to get over my fear of being on the road again, but I had to keep my job too. Perhaps if you are lucky enough you could carpool with someone for a while or take public transportation (which is very cheap sometimes)…there is also Uber but that can be pricy. You could try this until you get over your fear if that is possible. Keep in mind that it is freedom to drive, that could be your motivation. Take it day by day and don’t be too hard on yourself. I will pray for you.
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girlwithwolftatoo · 2 years
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Nightcrawlers
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Pairings: Edward Dalton x F!Human Reader
Summary: The famine of 2019 is a thing from the past and humanity had grown again. But still, there's no chance to have a happy life. Edward finds Reader after a vicious attack and helps her.
Words: 2087
Warnings: Mention of injuries.
The vans that transported the day people had tough prohibitions, they could not leave specific areas or take alternate routes to the established ones, and the time for them to circulate was limited. Humanity was on the rise again, and the cost had been relatively cheap: just their absolute freedom.
But they were better off, thought those in one of the vans, drumming their fingers nervously on their legs or baggage, they were privileged compared to others. They were alive, and with some fortune, their children would live too, always in the sunlight and afraid of the dark, as their ancestors had done for thousands of years.
"Delaware Cross!" the driver announced, and the sliding door of the van opened. Two people descended from the vehicle and saw the red in the sky that heralded sunset. From that stretch they were to continue standing, and they measured their time as best they could because neither wanted to remain outdoors when night came.
"Were you able to finish your notes, (Y/N)?" asked Jim, adjusting his glasses. His partner sighed.
"The clerk couldn't locate a file, so I'll have to follow up on it tomorrow" she explained "My gloves have already turned yellow, I hate that pharmacies are only open in the afternoon."
"Human supplements, some consider them luxuries."
"Yeah, I love spending half my paycheck on crap to get more money" (Y/N) spat. The pair passed by the side of an alley, where a red light announced that it had been fitted out for what was known as a service point; outside, two or three scantily clad women scented with poppy oil were waiting for customers, although the truth was that the service points were mixed. Jim looked away from a female worker, she must still be young, but her body was scarred from the blood draw, and her skin had begun to split in a process of premature aging.
"How bad must you be to fall into a place like this?" the boy muttered. (Y/N) noticed the woman's fierce look and ducked her head.
"For every time of prosperity, there's a time of lack. It happens to every people in the world, you know that."
"Five years ago rights for humans were enacted" Jim snorted "As if we were cows."
"We think and feel, just like they do."
"No, (Y/N), we're not cattle, we're people, I won't let myself be led by the good to a... farm" the boy shuddered "And you wouldn't either, would you?"
"And if the gathering army came and told you that you or, I don't know, your neighbor's newborn baby must, what would you do?"
"That kind of thinking is what's got us in this hellhole." 
They walked two more blocks together, in silence. Jim said goodbye, his friend should still walk a little further, and the Sun was disappearing faster than it should through the storm clouds; (Y/N) unfolded her umbrella and, out of sheer precaution, reached into her purse with her free hand. It was always good to carry something to defend herself, it had been that way since the first predator and the first prey had met, and it would be that way until the end.
A car was gliding through the streets, for him, night was the time to really live, and like a large part of the world's population, night was also the eternal memory of all that changed. They called it evolution but to him, though he had been unwittingly benefited, it seemed like yet another gap, an unfair break between him and those who were as he once was.
The car's hypersensitive sensors announced the movement of foreign bodies a few meters ahead. As he looked to his side, he saw a tumult of screaming and shouting beings, chasing another, and if his heart hadn't already been stopped for over thirty years, he would have felt a small heart attack, because he knew what they were, and he knew what they were doing.
Not thinking twice, he abruptly turned the steering wheel and the headlights illuminated the small space between a mini supermarket and an office building. Three men raised their heads, startled by the light, and he could see the rabid yellow eyes and grayish, haggard skins. They were called Scavengers, not because they consumed corpses, but because they deliberately hunted free humans, often for amusement rather than to satiate their hunger, and although some politicians fought to implement regulations against them, it was difficult to stop their advance.
But he couldn't care less about a bunch of lunatic supremacists, and he sounded his horn. The men milled around, curious, squinting to see who was heckling them, and it was then that he made up his mind to get out of the car.
"What the hell do you want?" a Scavenger shrieked, threatening him with his fangs. 
"You have ten seconds to get out of here" replied the man of the car. As he expected, there was laughter from the group.
"You think you're the big deal with your fancy suit and your fancy car, you're not a real predator, you're a coward" shouted another, receiving cheers from his companions.
"Now it's only five seconds."
"You'd better beat it!" the first to speak to him went to meet him, ready to shove him, but a hand closed around his clothes and, as if he weighed no more than a cat, the man of the car sent him flying, the collision of the falling body unheard. The Scavenger's companions grew cowed, looking at each other.
"What are you waiting for?" jumped the man "Go get your friend."
Without ceasing to give him hateful glances, the rest of them left at last. He could tell there was no blood on their faces, though one looked like he had been wounded with something, and only then did he approach the alley.
Again, the startled sensation that was not physically possible appeared like an echo of lost humanity: lying between two dumpsters, a figure huddled, shivering and whimpering almost voicelessly, he could not measure the damage she had sustained but clearly, she was injured, and possibly dying from the way her body convulsed.
The smell of blood reached his nose, but he ignored it, as he had done for a very, very long time. He reached out his hand and rested it on the girl's shoulder, her clothes had been torn in several places and blood was gushing out in trickles, so he deduced that it had not been these that had her in this state. Her eyes were wide open and she gasped, struggling for breath, a future bruise was forming on the right side of her face, and more blood trickled down her lips.
He felt her carefully, searching for broken bones, when a word burst from her mouth, so softly that he barely perceived it:
"Please..."
The eyes were flooded with tears and looked up at him, with fear, with anguish. 
"Don't be afraid" he whispered "My name is Edward, I'm not going to hurt you."
"I don't want to die..." stammered the young girl. Edward nodded. 
"It's okay, I'm going to help you, okay? You'll be fine, I promise."
He searched with his eyes and came upon a purse that he assumed was hers. He put it on his shoulder and then gently took her in his arms, he noticed the shiver that ran through her but even more, he noticed the warmth still coming off her body. How strange it felt, an unusual temperature from a time he could no longer remember.
"What's your name?" he asked her. The girl's eyes narrowed, unfocusing "No, no, stay with me, don't fall asleep...what's your name?"
He advanced back to his car, shaking her slightly each time her eyelids twitched, the first drops of rain beginning to fall. It wasn't good to let a human being lose consciousness, they might not wake up again, they said, and Edward kept trying hard to avoid that as he placed the young woman in the passenger seat and buckled her seatbelt.
"You're going to be okay, do you hear me?" he continued, the human struggling to keep her head up "Come on, tell me something, what's your name, do you remember? Do you remember how you got here?"
Her chest heaved up and down with difficulty, he watched her lick her lips and wince at the taste of her own blood.
"(Y/N)..." she murmured at last "My name is... (Y/N)..."
"(Y/N), all right, all right! Don't go to sleep, (Y/N), stay with me" Edward had put the vehicle in gear "What do you do for a living, are you a student?"
"I'm... I'm a..." (Y/N)'s head cocked again, her lips moved but she made no sound.
"No, no, (Y/N), don't go to sleep, stay awake! Stay-!" 
It was no use, the eyelids closed and (Y/N) hung, limp, by the seatbelt. Edward pushed on the accelerator, later, perhaps, he would call work to excuse himself with anything for missing. He couldn't take her to a hospital, it would have been a death sentence in her condition, but maybe he could save her, he was a doctor after all, he had been a doctor, he had studied to save lives....
The car skidded in front of the garage, and Edward rushed out with (Y/N) in his arms, still unconscious. He had not only medical instruments suitable for humans, but also some bags of blood, all he needed was to suture the wounds, treat the trauma and, if necessary, give her a transfusion. By law, free humans were required to carry the specific type of blood they had on their ID, he would just have to take a look in his bag.
He laid (Y/N) down on a couch, taking care to keep her head up; he could hear her heartbeat, slowed but still present, and he knew well that if he concentrated hard enough, he could even hear the blood rushing through her torrent. It was evolution, the survivors of the 2019 famine said, first and second generation vampires saw their senses sharpened and their strength doubled as some time passed, and it was beginning to be theorized that, as time passed, vampires grew stronger as in a case of rejuvenation that humans, poor little tender humans, would never experience.
Man is man's wolf, Edward thought, going through (Y/N)'s body to disinfect and close her wounds. In a way vampirism had brought with it enormous advances in technology that would not have been dreamed of under other conditions, but in return, humans were almost driven to extinction; now, they were granted the opportunity to live, to grow, to go about their business, limited to the hours of the sun and in confined spaces, so that they would not escape from sight; but their main function was still to feed the dominant species, and for that reason there were patented farms, and squads that collected (kidnapped, Edward said) humans during certain seasons to study them and, if they were considered fit, they were delivered to the milking centers.
Milking, the vampire thought as he painfully watched the bruise turn from red to purple on the girl's face. What a nice way of saying that they were hooked up to monstrous machines where, permanently sedated, they were drained of their blood at intervals until their bodies could no longer reestablish themselves, until they became a horrible parody of dried fruit.
An impulse led him to reach out and, with the obverse of his forefinger, caressed the girl's healthy cheek. It burned as if she had a fever, but Edward knew it was not, it was the warmth of true life, of a heart that beat, of skin that flushed under the touch of the sun or, perhaps, of a loved one, of an ephemeral body and that, ephemeral as it was, was much more haunting, much more beautiful than the body that prevails.
He let himself be absorbed by that warmth for a few more seconds and finally got busy with the healing. The clock read ten o'clock at night, it was still early, he could let her rest there and go to work with a slight delay that no one would claim, but instead, he stayed there long after he was done with his. How he longed for the brown eyes to open again.
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nonprofitgibi · 7 months
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My current issues in leftist talking points
alright so here's the thing I'm really getting tired of with the current state of leftist talking points. There is no fucking vision and when there is it's fucking some utilitarian dystopia. As though as a leftist can't have a like pie in the sky vision like the far right does. We don't need more anti capitalist talk we need visions of the future that people want to fight for. Like look at r/anticar not all of it is left wing and in fact there are a surprising number of right wingers in there that are totally on board with the anticar vision, because it can be seen and it's got good "marketing". Like there are steps, and ideas for how to take steps to get to where they want to get, and because of this there are no examples for how to do it, they've fucking succeeded in some places and have passed municipality changes that have made cities more anticar and I think they actually have at least one city that has become anticar, there is a lane for emergency vehicles and that's basically the only vehicles that come into the city other wise it's 100% walking and various forms of public transport.
The I look at communism and socialism conversations and it's just a bunch of people bitching about the current state and I say bitching at this point because no matter how well thought out your arguments against the current establishment are if you don't have a way to support people who exist today at least fucking considered then fuck you. It's why fascisms is taking hold so much better then communism there is a recipe book and a pie in the sky vision of the future. And that is appealing because the current system isn't working and we all already know and don't really need to be told again why it is that it's not working. What we need is something to fight for a vision of the future that can be looked at by anyone and even if it is pie in the sky likely not happening we hope one day to see pie on the table which is better than no pie
Places we have visions like, abolish the police. We can do that today, we can continue to vote for and push for this and get behind this and if we simply defund the police, and redirect the funding to other services that actually fucking help people it works and will result in a better world. It is again anti something but this is actually something that like we can get rid of today and have 0 consequences and if we redirect the funds to services that help people we will very quickly see positive changes and we know this because we did get some success in like 1 city in the states and were able to show that it's helped and we've seen the services when enacted have dramatically improved outcomes.
And I'm sure there are others too but like for the most part all I ever see is fuck this institution it's bad and here is an incredibly well written and sourced and argued reasoning for why this institution sucks. And every time I'm just like great and at the end here you have a vision or idea for what to do to support what the institution provides to society (even if poorly, inappropriately, or incorrectly), and no there is nothing I'm just left frustrated with a new thing or reinvigorated frustration with something, with no way forward. And when asking for a vision it's go read this dense fucking document on how to do it and it's like no I wont I'm lazy just like every one else and live in a capitalistic hell scape and don't have the time to do that.
This is what the far right is doing like ya'll see that right, they don't bother with proving or sourcing things they just put out their pie in the sky vision and people latch on to it because they say its better than today. You can't and won't counter that with a dense argument of why that doesn't work, you have to show simply a better alternative. And you're not going to win them all over that's not the goal or realistic, the goal should be to provide a fire to fight for and hope for those who are being fucked to look and possibly be able to use that to motivate them to actually fight for something.
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squidhominid · 4 months
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So I've been thinking about capitalism
So, as some people know, before I became the queer anarchist squid lady that you all know and love, I was, um. A teenage libertarian.
That's. Not great! But in combination with my disabilities it gives me some interesting perspective about the interplay between capitalist systems and disability, that I kind of feel like are worth talking about.
See you under the cut for a discussion about techbro nonsense and how it can be seductive in the right context to disabled people.
Now, as I've said before, libertarianism is sort of like, a funhouse mirror version of socialism. Libertarians believe in equality and in the need for social progress, they just, wrongly, believe that capitalism should be the vehicle to get there, and that the obstacle to getting there is government over-regulation.
The thing that's interesting, and that I think is worth talking about, is how this interplayed with the fact that I'm disabled, and how I viewed disability accommodation.
As some know, I'm unable to drive. My vision is too poor, my attention span is too poor, and, honestly I have serious doubts about my motor skills being up to par either. Nowadays if you asked me I'd tell you the solution would be better public transportation, but when I was younger, I had completely bought into the promise of things like Waymo. The idea of self-driving cars was transfixing to my younger self.
You could argue a part of that is due to American cultural indoctrination about the car as a symbol of agency. It was also because, in my experience, travel by bus is far slower than travel by car. Either way, I was so lost in the American late-stage capitalist soup that I didn't realize the actual solution - trains.
And this, I think, explains why things like Elon Musk's Boring Company are so alluring. Trains have a negative image to the average American, and cars are seen as an emblem of American freedom and agency, like the gun (oh boy that's an entire discussion on its own), and so people get swept up into the narrative of cars-as-public-transit, because they either don't realize public transit would have those benefits too, or they place outsize value on the car itself, be it due to the aforementioned agency, or due to a desire for privacy.
The ultimate realization of this, of course, is Elon Musk admitting that he only pitched the idea of the Hyperloop as a poison pill to kill the California high speed rail project, because he didn't want to share a train with other people.
But there's another example of a pie-in-the-sky hypercapitalist dream technology that I think preys outsize on disabled people. And that's Meta's pitched idea for the metaverse, or any metaverse concept that involves supplanting or augmenting reality.
Of course, there are platforms like Second Life, VRChat, Neos VR, Resonite... Platforms where, either officially or unofficially, you can make an income off of paid assets, like custom avatars. When combined with the fact that these are immersive social platforms, especially when VR gets involved, these platforms suggest that one can use them to replace the 'real world'.
To the disabled, this is a swan song - no longer do you even NEED that self-driving car, you can live an entire remote life. If income from these platforms isn't enough to sustain you, you could get a remote office job, and just use social VR in your downtime, or you could find a way to get passive income, by making something people will have a continuous need for, like music on Spotify that's safe to use in Twitch streams, or video game engine asset packs. There's lots of ways to approach that problem, but it's out-of-scope of this post.
To get back to the point, Meta's pitch for their metaverse is like this concept on overdrive. A world where everyone is wearing an AR headset at all times, and as a result, anyone can remote into any location through a sort of VR telepresence. If your friends are somewhere, and you can't be there, say you're sick, say you're disabled, say you have a baby or a partner to take care of, for any reason, you can just start a group call with them over VR, and you'd 'be there' without being there.
Of course, this leaves a lot of unspoken issues on the table. How would this necessarily work? They would need to make and maintain a digital spatial 'layer' over the real world, that people would access, be it using an AR headset in person, or a VR headset remotely.
They aren't going to set up depth cameras all over the world to capture the environment on an ongoing basis, so would they do this using the cameras on peoples' headsets? What if someone was wearing a headset and doing something private, like reading a note from someone? Then someone in VR could invisibly sneak up behind them and read it. What about countries with strict privacy laws, like Germany?
It's a siren song for the disabled, sold on a dream, but that dream is built on implicit and explicit violations of social norms, and it's turtles privacy violations all the way down.
I don't have anywhere I'm really going with this. I just, wanted to get it all out onto paper, because I've been thinking about how leftists will call technologies like self-driving cars, hyperloop, the metaverse, etc, things like pipe dreams by the rich, or the 'torment nexus' (a future technology originating as a cautionary tale against creating it in a sci-fi novel), but I think that misses the intersectionality of how these technologies can be seductive to people that, if they were feasible, would benefit from them.
The operative part of that sentence being 'if they were feasible', and my point being that they either are not, or are not without massive drawbacks, making them a siren song and ultimately destructive.
But who cares as long as Elon and Zuck are making billions off the back of impossible dreams, right? /s
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m4rloe5 · 1 year
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4, 10, 18, 27 for charlie xoxo <3
Hello my love <3
4. How does your oc fare in the dark? Are they scared? Do they trip over things really easily or navigate like they have night vision? (Or do they have night vision?)
Do vampires have nightvision? Well even so, Charlie moves like he does. He always steps lightly and is quick to adjust his step to avoid obstacles. He could navigate his childhood home blind and knows the basement he lives in under that drag parlour like the back of his hand.
He used to be scared of the dark when he was little, especially in the first few months after his mum passed away. She'd gotten in a car accident and died on the way to the hospital when Charlie was six, and they couldn't hold an open casket funeral, so as far as baby Charlie was concerned his mum had just stepped into the dark and got swallowed by it, and for those first few months he had to sleep with the light on. That ease with which he moves through the dark these days came much later, when he realised machines were more predictable and less judgemental than people and he really got into hacking, which he did deep into the night on his dad's old desktop so he wouldn't find out.
10. How open is your oc to trying new things? Are they the adventurous sort, or would they rather stay in their comfort zone? Why?
answered here!
18. How does your oc fare in an emergency situation? Do they panic, do they freeze, do they take charge?
First of all, Fuck You. I know this is a dig to that one time he had a panic attack and fled to the top of the Dom tower after a bestial failure, but you know this is atypical behaviour! In an emergency he will freeze briefly to analyse the situation, and then his brain goes brrrr and he kicks into overdrive (source: Roy the IJ corpse). Though, to be fair, the IJ shenanigans was also an anomaly but that was definitely because Arthur was being less than useful. Usually though, the best option for Charlie is to just step back and disappear. If stuff happens involving Kine, Charlie is only a liability to the Masquerade.
27. What’s your oc’s preferred mode of transportation? Walking, vehicle, (or in a sci-fi/magic setting) teleportation?
I don't remember if Charlie had his driver's license or not tbh, he always rode shotgun but never drove himself, so you probably know this better than I do if I ever mentioned it. THAT SAID, the man lives in Amsterdam, so the easy thing would be to say by bicycle, but nothing is further from the truth. He hates cycling. His bike got stolen two weeks after he moved to the city and he just never bothered to replace it. I like to think he took up skateboarding at some point to get to campus, but he gave that up after his embrace. Those tiny wheels make too much noise to be able to move stealthily while invisible, so now it just sits in his cupboard collecting dust. He now takes the underground a lot. He can leap the gates with ease and no one is any the wiser.
~~
Thank you for asking about my garbage gremlin my love ily <3
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