Azura Noceda, an OC I drew owned by @catboymoments :3

Ok hear me out, let the stoner speak-

Insects don't have cannabinoids receptors so it wouldn't affect them at all, Shino could totally be relaxed on the stuff without affecting his bugs so picture this-

Team 8 smoking a joint together (don't flame me lol I just think it'd be super funny!)

Hinata would definitely be a giggler, she'd giggle at everything! She's even start laughing at her teammate's dumb stoned faces.

Kiba has a big mouth so he'd start rambling about the dumbest things ever, endlessly, making Hinata's giggling worse.

And Shino would just lose his usual speech pattern, it would all be replaced by silence and the occasional "woah...!" At Kiba's rambling, he'd be too impressed by the stupidities to refute anything.

Poison: Part Four

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill, fluff and angst

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there is any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them. If you’ve seen the show, then it’s the same level of angst unless otherwise stated.

Feedback is gold, and it’s the only currency I take

The hospital isn’t a good place for you to be in because of all the patients coming in and pretending to be sick, but it’s a lot better than the police station only because Spencer isn’t there. He’s here with you, so you’re able to focus on him instead of all the panic. You need to figure out which cases are real so you can determine just where they were poisoned and how to stop it from happening again.

“I really can't talk right now. We just got hammered,” the nurse sighs.

“Listen, most of these food poisonings are probably psychosomatic,” you reveal.

“What makes you think that?”

“A news broadcast just reported a local restaurant was poisoned. Now, it would be a huge coincidence if there was another poisoning right after that aired,” JJ explains for you.

“So what do you want me to do?”

“Help us find out which cases, if any, are real,” Spencer answers.

“People are coming in with all kinds of complaints. But, there's at least one case that isn't psychosomatic. Lynn Dempsey. She's barely breathing.”

“Can you take us to the doctor that's treating that patient?”

“I'll call Hotch,” JJ says and takes out her phone.

The doctor comes almost immediately just as soon as JJ is done updating your boss. The doctor escorts you to the woman who has a hard time breathing, and you can tell this is a real case based on what the doctor says as well as the vibes you’re getting from the woman.

“When the patient got here, she didn't remember anything about her day. Her speech was so slurred, I could barely understand her,” the doctor reveals.

“It sounds like Rohypnol. Did you test her?” Spencer wonders.

“She was positive for Rohypnol, negative for LSD. But we're running more tests because Rohypnol alone doesn't explain her symptoms. She presented with nausea, difficulty swallowing, and labored breathing. She was also having trouble moving her legs.”

“How long had she been sick?” you ask.

“She didn't know. I could barely understand her when she first got here. Now, she can't speak at all.”

“Do you know any biological agents that have similar symptoms: ricin or sarin gas?” Spencer asks.

“You think this is a biological attack?”

“We can't rule anything out.”

“I'll order a few more tests,” he sighs and leaves you three alone with the woman.

The poor woman is coughing and having a hard time breathing into her oxygen mask. She whimpers in pain, tosses and turns, and just looks like she isn’t having that much fun.

“I’ll take a look at her. Let me see if I can get anything out of her,” you offer.

“She can’t speak,” JJ says.

“I don’t need that to communicate with her,” you say and walks over to the woman.

Lynn barely opens her eyes to look at you, and you give her the kindest eyes you can muster up.

“Hi, my name is Y/N Y/L/N. I am only here to help. May I take your hand?” you ask and hold out your own.

She seems too eager to do so, and she grabs your hand as if it will cure her. Almost immediately upon contact, you get visions of her past right before she was poisoned. Your eyes close as the images transmit to you. Lynn is at the bank. She’s in line waiting to get some money taken out of her account. She grabs some candy out of a bowl as she waits and decides to cut her wait time in half by grabbing an envelope and writing her information down on it. She takes a step forward when the man in front of her does, and that’s where the vision ends. There is nothing out of the ordinary that is going on, so you’re not sure why you got that specific scene.

You open your eyes and look at Spencer and JJ. They half-expected you to get a definitive clue or something to lead them down a path, but you just shake your head. Your hand slips from Lynn’s, but as soon as you lose contact, she reaches up and grips your hand tightly. You look back at her to see her eyes open wide. She stopped coughing long enough to want to tell you something.

“JJ, Spencer, I think she’s trying to say something,” you say.

“The end…” Lynn barely gets out before having a coughing fit.

“The end…?” JJ questions.

You close your eyes once more in hopes that whatever she’s trying to tell you will show up in the visions you get. All you’re getting, however, is her picking up an envelope from the bank so she can use it for her money purposes.

“She may be incoherent from the lack of oxygen,” Spencer states.

Lynn pulls away hastily and turns on her side to let out a coughing fit. You take one step back and look at Spencer with a sad look.

“Doctor!” JJ calls. Once he’s inside Lynn’s room, she continues. “So, what are the chances that she's not poisoned, that maybe she just got some bad food?”

“Highly improbable. Chances are basically nil.”

“What is the rate of survival?” you ask.

“With this dose and without anti-toxin... zero.”

Lynn suddenly goes into V-Fib, and Spencer grips your shoulders to gently move you out of the way. You step back into his body to let the doctor and nurses through,  but you don’t move once they do pass. You’re basically watching Lynn slowly die right in front of your eyes, and there is nothing you can do to help her. All you got is her at the bank, touching some candy, and writing on an envelope. How the hell is that going to help anyone?

“Doctor, her BP is dropping rapidly,” the nurse states.

Lynn’s heart can't hold out any longer, and you turn away so you don’t have to watch her die. You shrug out of Spencer’s arms and leave the hospital room. Him and JJ aren’t that far behind you. If you have even one more soul on your consciousness, there’s no telling what kind of nightmares you’ll have or if you can even handle another soul.

While you were with Lynn and experiencing her last few moments on Earth, Elle and Derek were at the bank looking through the security footage to see if they could spot a common denominator with all the victims. Every single person that was infected came into this bank, so it has to be the key to figuring out where this substance came from and who put it there—most importantly, who is the targeted audience. It’s why experts are testing the candy to see if what she touched is actually poisoned or not.

“Lynn Dempsey was an executive assistant. She has no expertise with chemicals. She doesn't fit the profile of the unsub,” Gideon notes.

“But the CDC found both LSD and Rohypnol in the candy she was replacing at the bank,” Derek says.

“She must have been an accomplice, and when the unsub finished using her to further his attack, he killed her with Botulism.”

“So, what does that tell us about the unsub?” Gideon asks the group.

“He's far more sophisticated than we realized,” you answer.

“Why is that?”

“The Botulism toxin is the deadliest substance known to man. It blocks Acetylcholine receptors, paralyzing its victims until, basically, choking you to death. Without an antitoxin, a lethal dose will kill you in thirty-six hours,” you try to explain, knowing only Spencer will truly understand what you’re saying.

“How many people have access to this stuff?” Elle wonders.

“In New Jersey, quite a few. It's actually the pharmaceutical and chemical capital of the US. So, that the toxin can be ordered in the form of Botox through any chemical or biological lab or Botox clinic. It has to be purified, but any chemist or lab assistant has that capability,” Spencer answers.

“So, we're looking for chemists and sophisticated lab assistants?”

“Basically,” you and Spencer say at the same time.

“Okay, wait a minute. If the unsub is a chemist with access to the toxin, what'd he need Dempsey for?” Derek wonders.

“Well, we don't know yet. But she worked for a company, called, uh... Hichcock Pharmaceuticals. I think there's a good chance the unsub worked there, too,” Gideon reads off his notes.

“Let's start with people who fit the profile who've had a recent stressor.”

“Like, anybody fired from Hichcock in the past six months.”

“Yeah, or demoted. Not recognized for their hard work. Anyone who seems under appreciated. Let me call Penelope,” you state and take out your phone.

You call her, and once you get her over the line, you quickly explain what is going on and what you need her raw talent. You place her on speakerphone for all to hear so you don’t have to repeat what she says.

“Hichcock's a giant company, Sugar Shack, and there were over a hundred people fired just this past year.”

“And so far, none of them fit the profile?”

“No. But, I do have thirty names of people who were downsized and shunted off to other lame companies with a cut in pay and benefits.”

“That’ll work,” you nod.

“Alright, send us the names. We'll cross-reference them with civil and criminal complaints filed with local PD. But I want you to keep digging, and while you're at it, look for any connection to the First New Jersey Federal Bank,” Derek asks ever so nicely.

“I'm on it, Angel,” she says, and you hang up.

“Our guys acting like a workplace mass murderer. He'd stay close—seething—and he'd plan his revenge,” Hotch points out.

“Well, if he is a workplace killer, what else does that tell us about him?”

“For one, they don't give themselves up. He's lost his empathy and his moral compass. He's capable of anything.”

“All those innocent people at the bank,” you mutter regretfully.

“They meant nothing to him. He'll take out anybody to forward his cause,” Gideon says.

“Like Dempsey.”

“Correct, and eventually, even himself. Not until he finishes taking out his primary targets.”

“We have no idea where he's going to strike next. For all we know, he could poison the local reservoir,” Derek groans.

“Well, the local cops haven't gotten any leads out of Dempsey. Why don't you go to Hichcock and see if you have any luck,” Hotch says to Elle who is already out of her chair.

“You got it,” she states and leaves.

Elle didn’t really get anything out of Lynn’s desk. Her assistant told her that Lynn wasn’t the best at holding high self-esteem and was a very quiet person in general. Most assistants and their bosses talk about what goes on in their personal life and are basically friends, but not Lynn and her assistant. She barely knew one thing about Lynn. It came up as a dead end, so you, Derek, and Gideon are researching who got laid off at Hichcock and if it was brutal enough to warrant deadly actions to get revenge.

Derek is sitting at the computer with you looming over his shoulder so you can read what he has up. Gideon is looking at the town’s map to see if he can come up with a geological profile. There haven't been a lot of people who were brutally laid off, but there are some that make you so sad to think that after all the time they spent in the company, it’s wasted.

“Gideon, some of these lay-offs were brutal. This one chemical engineer, he'd been at Hichcock for nineteen years when he was downsized,” Derek notes.

“Damn, that’s harsh,” you mutter.

“Yeah, that could certainly inspire homicidal rage, huh?”

“The guy was in his late forties and the head of his department. He definitely had a generous severance package,” you read.

“A lot of these guys don't have enough pension. They may not be happy about it, but I don't see them killing anyone,” Gideon states.

Derek’s phone rings, and you see that it’s Penelope calling with hopefully some good news. He answers it and puts it on speakerphone.

“Talk to me, Hot Stuff.”

“Get this, Cochise. I found a chemist who works at a company that was bought by Hichcock called Palmay Cosmetics. Now, here's the thing. Lynn Dempsey applied for a loan at New Jersey Federal Bank around the same time this chemist applied for a patent on this anti-aging, breakthrough technology thing called PCO-99.”

“So, you’re saying he applied for a loan in her name to make his product?” you ask.

“That's what I thought, but both the loan and the patent were rejected because Hichcock had already applied for the patent and the patent deal had gone through, drumroll please, at New Jersey Federal Bank. I'm tracking his cell phone and it won't be long before I have his location.”

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King Takes Knight

A quick Michael whump drabble mini-fic, written for catharsis sake. I’ve had a rough week.

TW: Captivity, torture, impaling.

His wrists are bound together behind his back, chains clamping tight around his skin, looped to a stake on the stage. He’s constantly hanging forward, feet impaled into the wood by rusty nails. The laughter had rippled around him when those had been hammered in, slow as fork, half a minute between each pound to give Michael a chance to appreciate the pain. Enough time for everyone to enjoy his groans.

At first he’d done his best not to give them the satisfaction. Demons fed off the sounds of misery. No, seriously, it’s like a vampire feeding off blood. It’s like their own crack cocaine. Michael had grown tired of the ‘kick’ many centuries ago. Why him? Why none of the others? Oh, right, of course. That’s the whole reason he’s here. It’s why he’s now the main, impromptu, attraction at this DemonCon.

He’s a freak.

That was always a fact, as much as he had tried to hide from it. Demons don’t collect human objects for a hobby unless its teeth or kidneys. Demons don’t binge watch human TV shows to help them fantasise about what it would be like to live the way they do, up above on Earth in the fresh air, with dating and parties and their own laugh track. Demons don’t get tired of what they were designed for; torture, maiming, eviscerating. For so long he told himself, It’s just a phase, a hyperfix, it will be pass, I just need something new....

The psychological experiment had worked. Until it hadn’t.

Now here he was. Still a freak, to them, more so than ever. He has no intention of running from it anymore. Not that he’ll be able to run or walk for a while now.

Sometimes they loosen the chain and one of them will yank it, making him crawl. Typically after they’ve smashed a broken bottle on the floor, open palms falling onto the scattered shards, trousers tearing at the knee as they cut in deep.

He’d barely felt anything the first time he’d noticed the crimson pooling beneath him. He had already worked out that they’d done something to heighten the pain receptors in his skin suit. But how could he have blood?

“Just an illusion, you tuft of pubic hair.” Shawn had snarled at him, disgusted at the curios look on his prisoner’s face; “You don’t get to have blue goo like a true demon. You’re an abomination. A holy spawn of Nothing.”

He’d have tried to give a snappy comeback, had they not threaded a steel wire through his lips. Michael almost took it with pride; as if Shawn was afraid to hear him talk after he’d given his speech before. Clearly it had him worried that he was losing control, that there may have been demons listening who agreed with him, who were believed it was time to change. Maybe Michael wasn’t the only freak. A small, foolish part of him held out hope it would be one of them who would try to free him.

Nothing yet. Maybe all his words fell on deaf, wicked ears. Maybe they had considered it, for a moment, before distracted by the new attraction of a Michael piñata to play with.

The remainders of his suit stick to burned, bruised and bloodied skin. His jacket is gone, one of the Trolls borrowed his bow-tie to use as a handkerchief so he doesn’t expect to see that again given their snot is acidic. He knows they’re working their way up to the penis flattener. Just his luck, he was just starting to get used to the weird hanging bits, even having the odd fantasy of how he might be able to use them...and now it seems the first bit of action they’re going to get is being slammed with a mallet. If given a choice, he might prefer to try the butthole spiders.

His vision fades in and out after taking several punches to the head from one of the Rock Giants. He’s sure his eye nearly popped out of its socket and his jaw is broken, barely held together by the metal in his lips. They all chant their names at him. Not just freak. Traitor. Weakling. Disgrace. Failure. Hopeless. Loser.

They want tears. They want him to break.

But he’s never felt more strong in his life...at least, for now.

He closes his eyes, swaying in his bonds, head rolling as the pain thumps through his skull. He can still hear Janet screaming his name. Her magnet-bound hands reaching out for him. Jason’s hands on her arms, his distraught face looking past his not-a-girlfriend as Michael shoved the handcart away as soon as the guards caught up with them.

“GO! NOW! DON’T COME BACK! DON’T RESET! JUST GET OUT!”

It was one of them or all of them. It had to be him.

This was all his fault, after all. Janet had been taken because he’d been foolish enough to underestimate his former colleagues. They’d failed to notice the imposter among them because Michael was too busy keeping all his anxieties over his own potential double to himself. Had he just told Eleanor and the others the truth about Shawn’s call from before the experiment, the reason for his ‘breakdown’ from the start, they might have known something was up. They might have known better than to let Janet get on that train alone. 

He might not have let everyone down.

Her hand grabs his wrist as they leave Mindy’s. He says nothing as Tahani and Jason continue to walk on ahead.

He turns around.

“Listen...about last night.” Eleanor looks up at him, taking a deep breath. He can see that she’s slept very little between the few hours they took to rest up and prepare for this journey, “The whole....trust issue dealy. I just wanted to say-.”

“It’s okay.” He raises his hand; “You don’t have to apologise.”

She blinks at him.

“Uhmm...Good, because I wasn’t gonna.”

Michael’s mouth forms a silent ‘Oh’. Why had he been expecting that? 

“I meant what I said, dude. I don’t know if I can ever trust you.” She tells him, straight; “I believe that you’re Michael and not Vicky, you proved that much. But, like I told Tahani, even if it is you, I don’t fully trust you. You know why right?”

He swallows, looking down at his shoes; “The lying...I know.”

He doesn’t try to excuse himself anymore. It was bad. That’s all there is.

“Not just the lying but the lying about the lying!” She berates him; “It has to stop! And don’t get me wrong, the whole offering to sacrifice yourself thing, that’s done you credit. I need you to keep that shirt up. I need to be sure that you understand how important this whole show we got going on is. Whole of humanity is riding on us beating Shawn and those goons. It’s more important for us to win this than worrying about just any one of us. Got it?”

He nods. Of course he’s got it. Does she still consider him a liability? Would she have preferred it if Jason hadn’t interrupted his attempt earlier?

No, he tries to reassure himself. She’s not being mean. She’s being a leader.

And she’s right.

“Got it, Boss.” He tells her, quietly, the shame still burrowing deep in his chest.

She gives him a small smile and bumps his arm with her first; “There! Glad we got that settled. Look, I just want my partner in running-fake-Heaven back at my side is all. Not hiding things from me or putting me through crab like you did last night.”

“I understand. I’m sorry.” Was he unreasonable to hope for an apology back?

He’ll never understand what it means to be human, he realises sadly.

“Apology accepted. Now go bring back our favorite not-a-robot or I’ll be demoting you to my personal shrimp-serving butler.” She teases with a twinkle in her eye as they continue their walk to the train station.

Michael laughs to himself, spluttering droplets of blood from his encased tongue, as her words ring in his ears. He hopes they win. He hopes he gets to see his friends one last time before they go to the Good Place, the real one, and he’s sent to...wherever. Hopefully somewhere nicer than here.

The more time passes, the more he’s beaten and scalded and whipped, the more he knows Janet has obeyed his request. They haven’t gone to the Judge. They’re carrying on the experiment, best as they can, with Chidi as their best chance to succeed as one of the subjects. He hears Shawn muttering one time about the train tunnel having mysteriously caved in.

Well done, Janet, old friend. Or was it Jason with his last molotov?

He knows they can do it without him. He believes in nothing else in this world except his incredible friends and their ability to save the forking world. 

They don’t need him...They have each other. And Eleanor.

His girl from Arizona. The only one who can take charge of this. The one who knows what is at stake and what needs to be done. There’s an odd tightness in his chest, which may be from where his fake ribs were crushed earlier, but may be something else. He can’t deny it...He misses being at her side, he misses watching her take charge, of being on her ‘team’, her...partner. Fork it, he doesn’t want to be sad about it. He doesn’t want to...

It’s his own fault that’s over. You ruined everything, y’know that?

“You’re thinking of her, aren’t you? Your favorite yellow cockroach.” Shawn whispers, appearing as a blur in the corner of his distorted eyesight; “Funny how they haven’t come for you. You and that idiot came for your Good Janet. But their own pet demon? So much for human friendship, huh.”

He closes his eyes tight. He doesn’t...want them to come.

His hair is grabbed, head pulled back, a small block of freezing ice pressed against his stomach. He moans into the wires. His natural fire-element essence is violently reacting to the cold. It’s worse than a thousand volts of electricity. 

“They left you, Mikey. They abandoned you to us.”

N-no...He chose to stay....He made them g-g-go...

“And don’t get me wrong, the whole offering to sacrifice yourself thing, that’s done you credit. I need you to keep that shirt up...”

And he did.

“It’s more important for us to win this than having to worry about just any one of us. Got it?”

Got it.

That’s why they haven’t come. They can’t throw away the progress they’ve made just to save him. They need to see it through till the end now. That’s all it is. Eleanor understands, he’s sure of it...It’s not because they don’t care...

The chill seeps into him. He feels parts of his goo crystalize sharply.

“I don’t think I can ever trust you.”

“Why don’t we just lock you up in Janet’s void?”

“Get out of here. You don’t get to be part of this.”

As the agony shoots through him, he blinks and he sees her. Staring at him. Uncertain, afraid, but silent. Complicit in his fate, if it’s for the greater good. No longer hers to worry about. No longer a distraction from what’s truly important - would she react the same if it was Chi-? No, stop it! Don’t! 

Shawn moves away with the ice block and Michael sags against the stake.

“Ahh...Would you look at that.”

A finger reaches out to graze Michael’s cheek, picking off a tiny frozen droplet on his cheek. Fork. How long had he been crying? He didn’t want to give them that satisfaction!

Shawn puts it between his lips and smiles; “Mmmm, not bad. Not as salty as human tears. Let’s see if I can get you to fill my glass.”

Michael glares at him now, shaking roughly. Shame quickly simmers into a flash of rage before his old boss slams the ice block against him again. He screams.

Fork, fork, fork. This has to be worth it.

If it’s the only way he can prove, without a doubt, he’s on their side...That he wants nothing but to be worthy to be her ‘partner’ again...To be wanted...Forgiven?

Win, you guys. If he can ask for nothing else, do this for him. Please, damn it...Win.

Philosophy | Divine Madness

Plato's Phaedrus.

I wanted to start with this dialogue because even if it comes kind of late in history of antiquity, it really describes a very important part of greek tradition that influenced later philosophy and was very much present in romantic poetry and art. It's also a very pretty dialogue and one of my favorites. The Phaedrus of Plato was written in his midlife, around the 370 B.C. It presents his famous allegory of the Chariot, where he states that the soul has “wings” and explains how it becomes material, but mainly the dialogue is about love and the Madness of the Gods, which will be my specific focus here. This dialogue has been wrongly treated as mainly aesthetic, but the truth it's a theological dialogue with many spiritual additions, because love was for Plato a spiritual thing, not just an art or a satisfaction.

☀️ Synthesis

So let’s establish a little bit of context. The dialogue takes place in the countryside, and its actors are Socrates, as usual, Phaedrus, and Lysias (although he’s just mentioned). Lysias is a famous sophist, meaning he’s a speaker, and Phaedrus has a copy of one of Lysias’ most recent speeches, that after a lot of teasing and insistance, he ends up reading to Socrates. The speech verses about how it’s best to establish erotic relationships with a loveless person, rather than do it with a passionate lover. What Lysias says is that the loveless person won’t end up attaching to you, and the relationship won’t create gossip, involve jealousy, and it will much certainly allow for a larger selection of other lovers. Socrates is actually very sarcastic so he replies to this conclusion that Lysias should’ve written about the benefits of being the lover of an older or poorer man rather than a younger and richer one, and his words would be a good cause for the whole city. However, Socrates demostrates why he disagrees with Lysias, pointing precisely at the divine nature of passionate love. So in a very, very beautiful manner Socrates discusses why it's more beneficial to be loyal rather than a hoe lol. The dialogue treats the knowledge of the Gods and the nature of passion, how it comes to our souls through Eros, and helps us get closer to the divine and experience Them. This speech of Socrates is called the palinode.

☀️ The immortality of the Soul

First of all Socrates points at the immortality of the soul. To prove the existence of the Soul —of course, with the scientific knowledge available to them in their time—, Socrates points out movement. Things move because of a force, or because of will. For him, the sole observation that the Cosmos is full of movement and it's constantly advancing is enough proof for the existence of will and force, and thus the Soul. It's as easy as follows: things that move because of an external agent move by force and lack a soul, like stones, for example, or leaves. Things that move because of will have a soul and are bound to excercice it. For Socrates, the sun seems to move by will so it's evident that he has a soul, a much more complete soul than ours, bigger, and that makes him divine. The being that moves by will won't stop living, he says, because his movement must be continuous; if we move by will, but we die, then there's a part of us that doesn't die; our souls are divine and immortal. The body is a receptor of the soul, since movement by its own is the escence of the soul, and drive by force the escence of the body. So basically Socrates is saying you have soul because you can choose, you can think, you can move by will, and things that don't have a soul are less complex and can't do all of this. A body moved by will is animate, a body moved by force is inanimate.

Socrates then explains that the Universal Soul rules over the inanimate matter, and makes its evolution through the cosmos, manifesting itself under a million different forms. He speaks also of the wings of the Soul, that carry with them what is heavy (the material body) to the superior regions, where the Gods reside. This means that the Soul participates in divinity, through vibration. To explain it with a more modern concept: low vibes get you closer to matter, high vibes get you closer to the Gods. He also mentions that the Gods can't be defined by reason because reason is a human thing; nature lacks it, the universe lacks it, it's ours, and it's entirely theoretical.

Socrates also speaks of Himeros, God of desire and love; the feeling of exaltation that comes from him elevates the soul and helps it recover its wings. Socrates says:

“This affection, love, mortals know as Eros, the winged God; but the immortals know him as Pteros, the giver of wings.”

☀️ Theia Mania —the madness of the Gods

Remember what Socrates said about reason being unable to define the Gods? In Phadrus, Socrates exchange human intelligence for something greater and more beneficial: divine madness.

I know this is supposed to be our main topic, but really: Plato doesn't really say much about it. However, according to Thomas Taylor (who you should definitely read if you ever wonder about Plato, because he was an expert on the matter and openly pagan), Plato was usually exalted and inspired by divine madness when writing, specially dialogues like this one¹.

So as we had discussed in the summary, the dialogue starts with a discussion between Socrates and Phaedrus on Lysias' speech about choosing a non-lover rather than a “mad” lover. Phaedrus agreed that the mad lover will cause problems because he is so drunk in passion, that he cannot control himself: however, the non-lover will be satisfying enough, perhaps a bit cold, but won't cause troubles because he won't be invested in the relationship. As we know, the cause of desire is Eros. But Eros is a God, Socrates says, and Gods cannot be the cause of harm, ever. So the desire that the God has inspired in the mad lover must then be of good nature, beneficial and excellent. This madness of love, then, leads in the end to the highest kind of philosophical cognition.

There is two types of madness: the human type involving an internal state of psychic disharmony, and a divine type, involving possession by a God. Socrates says that the divine type of madness is always good, and we can see it in the Pythia, the priestess of Apollo. He says that when magicians try to read divine symbols or interpret certain phenomena, like the shape of the clouds or the sound of the birds, this is a type of wondering of the future that lacks divine inspiration because it uses human knowledge and it's more possible to fail. However, when the Pythia is possessed and inspire, it has been proven that her prophecies are true, and they do happen; she is actually losing control of her body to let the Divine enter her mind. These prophecies have always been beneficial to humankind, so this madness of the Gods is good and is real.

There is four types of divine madness, Socrates says:

Ecstatic Madness: caused by Apollo and Dionysos. Mantika, the prophetic madness of Apollo, and Telestika, the ritual madness of Dionysos. Then there's Inspirational Madness: caused by the Muses and Aphrodite. Poetika, the artistic madness of the Muses, and Erotika, the passionate madness of Aphrodite and the Erotes.

This madness spontaneously adapts itself to its producing cause, imitating a divine power, and thus necessarily becomes magnificent, vehement, and exuberant: for such are the characteristics of it's source².

Ain't this beautiful? The idea of divine madness will be later developed by neoplatonists and adapted to a set of practices called theurgy, which will presume the aid of achieving such unity with the Gods.

☀️ Observations

When reading on this topic, one must be careful and check the sources. Plato is a philosopher thats has been thoroughly misinterpreted and edited across history by both atheists and christians. Most authors will tell you he was a monotheist, or even an atheist. He wasn't: Plato was the product of his time and his culture, and a polytheist. When he speaks of divine madness and the Gods he does so literally, as he's a faithful and pious philosopher. His metaphysics are pluralistic and this dialogue is an evidence of such.

On another topic, we can see divine madness across many cultures in human history. The possession by a God always leads to a greater benefit and is good and pleasurable. So one can judge many experiences based on this: the possession by a lower spirit wouldn't bring forward the same results, emotions and characteristics that the possession by a Divine agent would.

So I want to know, if you've come this far, what do you think about Plato's approach to Divine Madness? do you have any thoughts on this concept? Please add your comments, I'll be glad to read them!

I hope this post has helped, there will be more ☀️💫🌻 A sidenote: this post and the whole series of Philosophy of the Gods is being made in devotion to Apollo, as he is the God of Philosophy, my patron God as a disciple, and was the God of Socrates.

Sources:

¹ Plato, Phaedrus, spanish edition (Gredos).

² Thomas Taylor, Introduction to Philosophy and Writings of Plato, The Prometheus Trust Edition.

Chicken Soup, Approximately

a zadr fic

rated G for everyone

On Ao3

The moment that everything went wrong was when Dib climbed into that giant robot.

At the time, Zim was sitting in a pile of fairly comfortable trash on the street side, temporarily vanquished. For a second there he’d assumed that the day was over, so he’d just been biding his time, waiting for his PAK recovery sequence to rearrange his tissues into their correct positions. The giant robot had been slumped, powered down after its defeat, with Dib at its heels poking around in the wiring to satisfy his curiosity. And then some neighborhood mud monkey had leaned over their fence and shouted at Dib, “Hey, boy!”

 Dib looked up.

The mud monkey, slumping over the fence and waving some kind of recreation beverage, said, “You got your--your damn robot all over my lawn! Lookit Marge’s petunias, they’re, uh, flat! You done smashed ‘em! You big headed little hooligan!”

Dib looked down, at some sort of foliage flattened underneath his boots as well as Zim’s giant robot. They’d started fighting at one end of Zim’s neighborhood and ended up on the other side, and they had taken out a fair amount of lawns with the big metal feet in the struggle as Dib tried to uncouple the power cells from the inside. The neighbor on the other side was missing a chunk of roof tile.

“Oh,” he said, “sorry? It wasn’t really my fault, but sorry anyhow.”

“You better get your car off my lawn boy!” the human said, jabbing his bottle at the robot. 

“Okay, okay,” Dib said, “I will, jeeze. Give me a second, I’m trying to figure out where the power lifting mechanism connects to the joint--”

The human neighbor squinted one of his bulging eyes. “I know you,” he said, “you’re Membrane’s wacky little nutjob kid. Hey, hey, how did that worm taste? I saw you hack it up on the tv.”

Dib flipped up his collar, covering his neck. “I wasn’t--I had been poisoned, I didn’t eat it because I wanted to.”

“I saws you,” the human insisted, rattling his mostly empty bottle. “I saws you eat that worm good. You a bug eater, boy?”

Dib turned to Zim, making helpless gestures at the human on the fence. “Tell him,” Dib said, “tell him you poisoned me!”

 Zim gave the situation a shrewd once-over. While he was still immensely proud of himself for poisoning the Dib Human with that swamp worm, as he was of everything he did, he was also wary of agreeing to anything the Dib asked him in front of other people. “Zim has no recollection of this,” he said, kicking his feet against the trash bag.

“Zim!” Dib shouted. “It was just last week! You put the worm in my milkshake straw! You called me on the phone while I was on my dad’s show just to tell me about it! I had to induce vomiting or I would have died!”

“Are you sure?” Zim said, inspecting his gloves for damage. “This dirt monkey says you’re a bug eater. Maybe you just like eating bugs.”

“I do not like eating bugs!”

The human at the fence took a swig of his beverage. “You throw up bugs on purpose, boy? That’s some sick, that’s, man, that’s some crazy stuff.”

“Because it was poisonous!” Dib shouted.

“Hey Marge!” the human shouted, waving back at his house, “Marge, come laugh at the crazy bug eating boy!”

A distant voice shouted, “From the TV?”

Dib buried his nails in his scalp. “I’m not crazy! It was a rational--”

The neighbor human’s mate appeared at the fence, hair stacked precariously with curlers.  She pointed one of her claws at Dib, opened up her jaw, and erupted into caws of corvid laughter.

“Would you listen--”

A small child appeared at the fence as well, also pointing its finger at Dib and spewing laughter. More neighbors began to surface, curious about the epicenter of the amusement, and quickly joined in the ridicule. Public shaming was an activity that never failed to bring a group of earthlings together.

Zim watched with interest as Dib twitched visibly, in the middle of the garden, his whole body spasming. And then, rather than shouting and stamping and making a speech as he usually did when large groups of humans began to ridicule him publically, Dib simply turned on his heel and walked back to the robot.  He scaled the robot’s leg with a series of deft pulls, climbed into the dark cockpit, and then--quite matter of factly--punched the big red activate button. 

The arm cannons blazed to life.

“Who’s laughing now!” Dib howled, throwing his whole weight against the steering levers. The mecha rattled and roared, one enormous step heavy enough to rattle Zim’s teeth in his mouth. Black smoke poured off the auxiliary engines. Dib scream-cackled, his eyes huge and wild, as the mecha bore down clumsy and utterly unstoppable. He wrenched a knob and a hail of fire exploded the concrete all around them, chunks of it sailing up into the air as time seemed to slow down, and Zim-–in the middle of the smoke and shrapnel and wailing humans-–just stood there.

Watching.

He watched Dib, up there in that 20 ton deathbot, losing his Irk-forsaken mind, and Zim’s insides gave a horrible, perfect heave. It was like he was going to be sick, only, if he puked now there would just be little cartoon hearts all across his boots.

Wow, he thought. Look at the Dib Monkey go.

–

That wasn’t the first time that Dib had taken the invader’s breath away; it was only the first time he noticed it. There had been other moments, forgotten now—an aerial battle where their ships had been locked into a mirrored freefall, cockpit dome pressed to cockpit dome—an impromptu team-up, as Dib threw himself out the window of a building rigged to explode below him—a field trip in the park where Dib had casually handed Zim an ice cream cone, barely noticing what he had done in the midst of monologuing—

Zim’s attention was not entirely on the task of mixing radioactive isotopes into concrete solution. He turned the mixer with half a mind on the day before, turning over the memory of Dib’s nervous breakdown backlit against the yellow sky, the light glinting off the mecha around him—it was the most focused he had been on anything in a very long time, although he didn’t take any note of that change in himself. He was preoccupied with others.

Scowling, Zim thumped himself on the side of his head. “Be silent, brain meats,” he muttered, thumping himself harder. “Obey Zim.”

Across the laboratory, perched on a biohazard canister, GIR giggled and imitated him. “This is funnnn,” he said, clanking with each tap.

“It must be my brain meats,” Zim muttered. “Blasted wetware. Obey your master!”

“Maybe it’s your cute lil backpack!”

“Impossible,” Zim said. “My PAK is a state of the art piece of advanced computational brilliance. It is flawless! The error must be organic.”

GIR oooo’ed at nothing in particular. Zim gave up on his work and tossed the mixer into the vat, stalking across the lab as the isotopes quickly swallowed the mixer whole. He pulled his goggles from his head and threw them over his shoulder. The memory of Dib, sunlit and gloriously mad in his tons of deadly metal, had been troubling Zim for hours now, distracting him from even the simplest of his nefarious doings. It was like a tumor. A tumor obstructing the beautiful correct function of his intelligence interface. And if it was a tumor, well then, Zim would just have to remove it forcibly.

“GIR,” he shouted, “prep the medical lab for surgery!”

As the tiny robot went screaming ahead of him, Zim stripped off his hazmat gloves and grabbed a box of medical ones from a passing shelf. As he stepped into the irritatingly bright medical lab, the computer chimed in with, “REMINDER! Invader Zim is four solar orbits overdue for medical evaluation!”

“Ignore,” Zim said.

“REMINDER! Invader Zim is four solar orbits overdue for—”

“Ignore!” Zim shrieked. “Ignore all!”

“Acknowledged,” the computer muttered.

Zim took an uneasy seat on the edge of the operation table and pulled one of several extendable arms from the ceiling apparatus. He unfolded the square at the end and lined its edges up with his forehead, flipping down a series of lenses until the magnification on the video feed was sufficient for his purposes.

“Engage hard light scalpel,” he ordered. Heat immediately flared to life against his skin. “Incision area one by four by four.”

In a sizzle and pop, the surgical droid severed a square of skull and plucked it from the opened site. Zim squinted at the image projected across the wall in front of him.

“What have you hidden, Dib?” he said to himself, guiding the video probe deeper into his frontal cortex. There was a strange feeling as it passed into him, a fuzziness across his tongue and a static hum in his belly, but the pain receptors were neatly turned off by the PAK interface. After a minute or two of poking around in his own insides, Zim started losing patience.

“Where is it?” he snarled, poking hard enough at his brain matter that his left arm gave a spasm and knocked a spanner off the side table. “Computer! Scan for irregularities!”

“Beep,” the computer said. “Boop.”

Zim crossed his arms and tapped his heel impatiently while the program did an exhaustive malware scan. Finally, the monitor flashed in large letters: HORMONES.

“Hooooormones?” Zim read, “You mean the Dib introduced foreign chemicals into my Zim Veins?”

The screen flashed snow and then returned with the words corrected to: IRKEN HORMONES

“Computer!” Zim snapped, “Explain this!”

The computer hummed. “You appear be exhibiting primitive BONDING HORMONES, resulting in ATTRACTION and HAPPINESS.”

“The Dib did this?” Zim said. “How dare he make Zim happy against his will!”

“Uh,” the computer said.

GIR spit out a mouth full of broken syringes. “Sounds like Looove.”

“Preposterous,” Zim said. “Zim is a hardened combat veteran, not to mention an elite invader! It’s just some kind of… slow acting poison. Kinda thing. Computer, initiate blood draining protocols!”

“No toxins have been detected in the blood of Invader Zim.”

“Well drain it anyway!” Zim shouted. “I want it out of me! Right now!”

“The hormones are being produced by several of your key glands,” the computer said, sounding a little reproachful. “The source is too complex to be removed with traditional surgical procedures.”

Zim sighed and dug a scalpel out of his supplies. “Zim must do everything around here,” he said, examining the joint of his arm where he knew there to be at least one major hormone producing gland. There was also a major artery but, eh, he’d cross that bridge when he burned it.

“The source of the hormone production starter enzyme is located in the organic brain,” the computer continued. “Even if you removed the glands, once they regenerated, the enzyme would only order production to resume.”

“Curses!” Zim said. He lobbed the scalpel across the room, where it stuck in a secondary monitor with an electric fizzle and a puff of smoke. After a moment, he smoothed a hand over his uniform and righted himself.

“No matter,” he said. “I will simply have to hack my fleshware.”

He stalked over to the monitor and pulled down a keyboard from the suspended apparatus. 

“I have researched this ‘love’,” Zim said, making quote-y marks with his claws, “before. I recognize the symptoms. If I have contracted this 'emotion’ then the Dib has certainly infected me with his primitive disease in order to take me out of the game. How cunning. Not!”

Zim swung back around to the keyboard, inputting a search for “rmoance” which he belatedly, after cursing at the error404 screen for a few moments, corrected to “romance”.

“Foolish worm baby,” he muttered, “for I am Zim! Master of all research and HOLY QUIZNACK what is that?”

GIR toddled up behind him and took a look at the screen. “Pogo stick,” he said. “Weeeee-hoo, lookit em go.”

Zim had already smashed the escape key. “Okay,” he said, “never mind that. I don’t need to research romance specifically, I can just research earth diseases. COMPUTER, search the 'inter webs’ for information on curing this disGUSTING affliction.”

The computer buzzed with static for a moment, and then popped open a neatly formatted Gadzooks Answers page across the screen

The computer announced, “Mommy blogger 92 says to feed a fever, starve a cold.”

“Hmm. HMMMM.” Zim peeled back one glove and pressed it against his forehead. “But I am neither hot nor cold! Useless!”

GIR piped up, “Try thinkin about smoochies!”

“Ugh,” Zim said. “No way. There will be no swapping of the spit for this invader. The Dib would have to beg me, beg me on his weak little human knees, crawl through the mud on his hands and knees and then PERHAPS in my beneficent glory I would allow him to kiss… the mighty boots of… Zim…” He paused. A terrible expression passed over his face.

“GIR!” he shouted, “Get the thermometer!”

Two minutes later Zim threw the thermometer across the room, splattering mercury over the far wall.

“FINE!” he shouted. “Fine! The illness is a fever! How does one feed a fever?”

GIR listed a number of items, most of which were not edible. When he got as far as soap, Zim let out a heavy groan and threw himself into the spinning chair.

“Sources say,” the computer interrupted, “chicken noodle soup will DESTROY YOUR FEVER.”

“But it’s…. all meaty… and full of water,” Zim said, barely holding in a gag. He tapped his claws on the arm rest for a moment, considering. “Noodles seem harmless enough,” he decided at last. He levered himself up from the chair and marched off towards the elevator, hands clasped behind his back.

“Come along GIR,” he called, “I’m sure we have some extra soda around here somewhere….”

–

When Zim took his seat for homeroom the next morning, Dib was already at the blackboard trying to explain something to a blank-faced and uninterested audience. He was covered in white dust, practically vibrating in place, and jabbing a piece of chalk at a rudimentary graph of some footprint. He paused in mid jab as Zim walked into the room.

“…What on earth are you holding?” he said.

Zim looked down at his bowl of soup. Then he looked up at Dib. “None of your beeswax, Dibberton.”

“That’s… not my name,” Dib said.

“Hey,” a kid in the front row said, “lay off him, Dibberton.”

“That’s not my–ugh.” Dib turned back to Zim, who had neatly perched himself in a seat toward the back. “That looks like noodles in grape juice.”

Zim shoved a tangy purple noodle into his mouth. “That’s because it is, Dibberton.”

Haha! From the look on the monkey’s face, Zim has thwarted him indeed! The flavor of sucess is sweet! And also, a little carbonated.

Technology in Elrios

This post came about because I noticed that Eve is capable of inflection and tone and expressing her emotions through her voice in later parts of the game. I know part of that is probably because she’s voiced by a human but not a robot, but I still think it was done on purpose. She was designed to be capable of emotion (eventually) after all.

Biologically speaking, what makes a person capable of different tones and pitches in their voice is the air from the lungs that vibrates the vocal chords. The force of the air behind our speech effects out our voice sounds, whether we’re screaming in fear or rage, there’s a different kind of air flow effecting our vocal chords. That is only possible because of our lungs. It’s why, even when robots we’ve created are capable of varying their speech, they don’t sound like genuine emotion. It’s simply mimicking the sound, without the force behind it.

Because it can be safely assumed that much of Eve’s design is based on human biology, it can also be safely assumed that she is capable of realistically expressing emotion through her voice because there is some sort of lung-like apparatus in her design that interacts with some form of vocal chord.

Those assumptions caused my to leap down a rabbit hole of creating headcanons for the designs of the technology in Elrios. Specifically, I have headcanons for Eve’s design (that can likely be applied to Nasods in general), Dynamo, and Raven’s arm’s design. These are all based on observations I’ve made of what the technology is shown capable of doing, as well as things I’ve noticed about the characters in regards to their technology.

These headcanons also take into consideration the differences I noticed in Nasod technology that is designed by Nasods compared to Nasod technology designed by humans. Nasod designed technology takes into consideration the well-being and autonomy of the individual Nasod, while human designed technology only considers the purpose of the Nasod. Nasods view each other as people while humans view them as tools (and I will be doing an analysis on Adrian that goes more in depth into this at some point).

Eve:

Eve's chest core is like Tony Stark's Arc Reactor in the MCU as far as physical appearance goes. However, it is deep in her body. The most inner part of the inner workings. It holds the most essential systems and processes (like her codes). Her head core holds the less essential ones. If her head core is damage she won't lose the systems that make her who she is and she'll be able to repair it. However, if her chest core is damaged it's much less likely she could repair it completely and that she'll be able to remain… Eve.

She has an emotion circuit, temperature regulation program, coolant circulatory (insulated tubes for temperature efficiency) system, damage monitoring, balance (is a hardware thing called a gyro)/navigation protocol, code storage, conscious/subconscious memory, motor control, logic circuits, language processor, threat recognition, battle codes, excess code storage (subconscious storage she has to actively dig through), time monitoring, data base (for storing information she collects), synthetic digestive system (100% efficiency, no waste products), lung-like apparatus (to absorb nitrogen to convert it into her coolant liquid), vocal chords for speech, sensory receptors, scanning systems (sonar and radar and component analysis), main processor, and probably other things that I'm missing.

Eve sees in x-ray, infrared, color spectrum, and ultraviolet. Not at the same time of course, she has to switch between them. She can also adjust the zoom on her vision.

Eve can hear radio waves, normal sound waves, and has an immense hearing range. Her default range is like a normal human range but she can expand it at will.

Eve's body set up mimics human anatomy to allow her movement. Her muscle fibers are twisted together for increased structural integrity. She also has materials in her body that mimic tendons and ligaments. Her “bones” are solid metal rods.

Eve's hair is a smooth silky synthetic material similar in make up to spider web but it's not sticky.

Eve's skin is a synthetic material. It's extremely smooth. Almost unnaturally so. And it doesn't have the sorta sticky quality that organic skin has.

Eve doesn't have fingerprints at all.

Eve's head core holds all of her sensory receptors, so her “nerves” in the rest of her body are dulled (the farther from her head the more dull her sense of touch is). She isn't capable of feeling pain unless the damage reaches her internal systems (as in her coolant system (because if her coolant system ruptures at all it can completely compromise her entire being) or her chest core) because once her internal systems are damaged her processors receive a bunch of garbage signals she can't actually process and it manifests as either a stinging or a throbbing sensation.

Eve's coolant systems circulates her entire body but is the deepest layer of her inner workings, so while it is liquid nitrogen, the… “vessels” are insulated, and the rest of her body is working and producing heat. So while her skin is cool (or even cold depending), it's not, ya know, liquid nitrogen cold. At the coldest her skin feels like the inside of a refrigerator. Her “lungs” collect nitrogen gas and store it in her body so that should her body be too greatly damaged, or become too hot somehow, the stored nitrogen gas can be turned into extra liquid nitrogen to keep her cool still. She is capable of exhaling, but it's also nitrogen.

Eve had a kill switch (force shut down command) in her code but removed it herself when she found it, since she saw it as unnecessary.

Other Random Nasod Stuff:

Nasods' faces return to a blank neutral expression when they shut down. Their eyes and any core(s) go completely dark as well as losing much of the color they previously had.

All Nasod technology designed by a Nasod has an auto-repair system that repairs superficial damage on it's own. Basically, if a similar wound on a human wouldn't require medical attention, then the auto-repair system can take care of it on a Nasod.

Nasods created ghost codes and programs. Originally, they were used by Nasods in the Nasod War to protect them from humans that could manipulate their codes. It’s why humans had to develop the alterasia plants to turn the Nasods against each other. Ghost programs override present codes to enable extra capabilities that would otherwise be outside the Nasod’s programming. Ghost codes make adjustments to present code to enhance already present abilities. The reason they’re referred to as ‘ghosts’ is because once implemented they cannot be viewed or altered in anyway. Because Nasods are able to be exact in writing their codes they only need to write it once. Blocking it from view kept the humans they fought against from being able to alter any Nasods that were captured to make them fight their own kind. It also served the purpose of keeping the humans from accessing sensitive information stored in the Nasod’s codes.

Add and Dynamo:

Add accessed and utilizes the battle codes that his father created for him. However, unlike proper Nasod battle codes, they are not designed to cease functioning if Add takes too much damage, so when they're active the fight doesn't stop until the enemy(s) is defeated or he's dead. The codes also dull his nerves so that they more closely resemble the sensory input of a Nasod. Though once the battle codes cease functioning the pain comes in full force and, if he's hurt enough, could throw him into shock. However, the various Add paths did adjust it to one degree or another. Mastermind made the greatest adjustments to it, it practically isn't even the same code anymore, so that it fit into the image of himself he was creating. Diabolic Esper re-purposed it so that it could dull the pain of time travel enough that he wasn't incapacitated by it. Lunatic Psyker made the fewest adjustments to it because it fits right in with what he's doing. That being said, he created varying degrees of activation.

Add's mother created an additional program for Dynamo designed to protect Add and keep him safe (hence it prioritizing his safety when it can). However it's a “ghost” program. It isn't accessible for viewing or alteration by anyone (including Add who doesn't really know it's there) now that it's been installed. The program cannot stop the battle codes from functioning but limits their function from manifesting completely, allowing Add to keep his sense of self even when they're active. All of that being said, Masi knows about and utilizes ghost codes and programs of his own. And, since he made the most alterations to the battle codes, thereby interacting with them the most, he has his suspicions. However, he can't get confirmation because he can't look at it.

Eve knows about the ghost program's existence because she noticed the battle codes weren't operating fully while Add was fighting and deduced that because she couldn't tell why that was the case, it had to be a ghost code or program, but she can't access it due to it's ghost status.

When Dynamo is offline, Add's mark and eye are grey. He literally can't overlook small details, to the point where two exact same sandwiches look different because they're positioned differently, or the crumbs around them are different. Also, he can't read or do math because he sees individual letters and digits instead of whole words or numbers. He tends to fall asleep mostly when Dynamo is offline because when it's online he doesn't actually need as much sleep, food, or water (it was a measure he put in place because he didn't know when or how often he would be able to get that stuff and he doesn't like most of it anyway). When it's offline though, he goes backing to having the needs of a normal person so yeah. However, that hyper detail awareness makes repairing and working on Dynamo very easy for him because he can just look it over and see what's up. He develops updates for Dynamo while it's online and only turns it off to implement them once he's certain they're going to work (hence Time Tracer's meltdown when he finds out his calculations are actually wrong).

Add can actually see certain things that Dynamo shows him, like when Dynamo sets a route for him to take, he sees a line on the ground telling him where to go.

Dynamo marks out enemies and allies, can do component analysis, can move as directed and even fly, has it's own data base (which is pretty extensive), has AC, has weapon systems, automatically observes and records battle patterns of enemies when in battle (but has to be told to outside of battle), gives Add reminders of things he wants/needs to do, aids in making calculations, advises on the best course of action based on Add's previous experiences in similar situations, also uses previous experiences to set the safest, most direct, and fastest (in that order unless Add specifies a different priority and even then because of his mother's ghost program safety is always first) routes for him to take to his desired destination, minimizes distractions for Add so that he's better able to focus on whatever he's trying to do (though that doesn't necessarily stop him from getting distracted), automatically moves to block weapons in battle, keeps an eye on everything going on around Add (though whether Add notices Dynamo's notification of what's going on around him depends on the day and the Add), and I might add to the list.

Add's body temperature is higher than an average person's (like it's difficult to tell if he's running a fever or not) when Dynamo is online but when it's offline his temperature is much closer to normal (though still a little high). Either way, there doesn't appear to be any damage done to his body despite it remaining at a higher temp for so long.

While the codes for Dynamo are viewable through Dynamo, there's also a chip in Add's head that stores and allows the codes to interface with Add.

If, somehow, Add were to be disconnected from Dynamo, he wouldn't be able to use his left arm, since when he was running from the slavers they blew it out at the shoulder. While in the library he created and implemented what amounted to a prosthetic shoulder joint for himself and connected it to Dynamo directly. That's also why it's his left arm he uses to control Dynamo non-verbally.

Dynamo can only work within Add's previous experiences and knowledge.

While being based on Nasod technology, Dynamo does not have the liquid nitrogen coolant system of Nasods. Instead it uses air flow to keep itself from overheating.

Every Dynamo has all of the same information and abilities and whatnot so it doesn't matter which specific one is accessed. And each Dynamo has it's own individual core in it's center. It does use El shards as a power source but Add has experimented with other forms of power before. Some can be used and just aren't as efficient while others aren't useable.

Dynamo's inner workings are very minute and mostly based on electrical connections and signals (which also allows it to interface with Add's nervous system).

Add knows when Dynamo has taken damage. It doesn't register as pain but it feels similar to like… pressure? I don't know another way to describe it. If a Dynamo were to be destroyed however that hurts like a bitch. It would feel similar to what Eve would feel getting her core ripped out.

Raven and his Arm:

Raven has a small chip on the back of his neck right over his spinal column that stores nasod battle codes and also allows his nasod arm to interface with his nervous system (so that he can actually use it).

The arm has it's own isolated circulatory coolant system but, unlike Eve's which is very consolidated (allowing her inner workings to remain very cool easily while keeping her outer body from being too cold), his is spread through smaller vessels throughout the arm. That means that it is much more prone to overheating than Eve is because of the nature of smaller vessels. Smaller vessels means less insulation means less temperature efficiency. Also, because the vessels being spread out throughout the arm, should one be pierced, flow of the coolant liquid to that vessel is cut off completely until it's repaired.

The arm was designed to use the electrical signals of specifically placed “nerves” as a power source instead of an El Shard. Basically his brain sends electrical signals to his arm thanks to the chip thing and it uses and stores the electrical impulses of those signals in a small core at his shoulder as it's power source.

Raven does have feeling in the arm but any damage it takes feels more like pins and needles than a traditionally painful sensation.

For the Canon and Alt paths Eve assisted Raven in redesigning and upgrading his Nasod arm. Empress instals a safety protocol into Reckless Fist's arm to ensure he doesn't destroy himself with it since she's long since learned that humans have a habit of coming up with unorthodox and often dangerous ways of using things. Raven is no exception to that but Eve doesn't want him needlessly getting hurt. Meanwhile Nemesis tries to talk Blade Master into letting her instal various hidden weapons into his arm (namely a hidden wrist knife) that he continuously has to say no to. Veteran Commander updated and worked on his own arm.

Raven's arm has the auto-repair system common of all Nasod technology.

We Can Be Stronger Together - Solo by Cinder

❝ 𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗺𝗲𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗶𝘇𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗼𝘄𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗻𝗴𝘁𝗵 𝘂𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘄𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗻𝗲𝘀𝘀. ❞ - 𝒮𝓊𝓈𝒶𝓃 𝒢𝒶𝓁𝑒

‘At least the Annual Peace festival is still going ahead. We all need something to look forward towards.’ #Pearl’s voice still rang in my ears the whole way to the market. After all that was said and done, her tears only lasted to the point where as she found out that she could still take part in the Annual Peace festival and then not to mention the ball at the end of it all. Her daydreams of meeting the Prince and for him to fall madly in love with him were back in full play.

I left the apartment needing to get as far away from that conversation as it was possible, it felt so wrong to think about the festival in a moment when you had just been told that your Emperor had contracted a life-threatening disease.

As I walked the pothole filled streets, it was all anyone was talking about. At first, I kept my sound receptors low not wanting to know or to hear all that the people I passed were saying. However soon my curiosity had gotten the better of me. Turning them up, I started to tune into the conversations taking place around me.

‘𝘊𝘢𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴; 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘪𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘯?’

‘𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘌𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘌𝘮𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘰.’

‘𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵. 𝘞𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘌𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘙𝘪𝘬𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘉𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘧𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳. 𝘞𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵.’

‘𝘏𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘧 𝘸𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘌𝘮𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦.’

The voices were sombre and full of such emotion, not once did I hear another say a bad word towards the Emperor #Rikan because the truth was that he like his father before him were great rulers. Our History showed the way in which our Royal Family had stood for their people. And now with Emperor #Rikan. He too was a fair ruler, kind and most of all he was the only one of the Earthen leaders who had been standing up to the Luna Queen. He had been the one to fight her every step of the way, and yet he did it in such a way that he made all the leader stand up shoulder to shoulder so that the Luna Queen could not get things her way. The One thing that stood out to me in the midst of all of this, it was only Emperor #Rikan who had managed to start the talks with the Luna Queen for Peace. He was the only one who had managed to bring her to the table if you may to sign the peace Treaty of Bremen in the hope that Luna would join the Union, even if she was still fighting him on it he’d not given up hope.

‘Cinder? Did you hear me?’ #Iko was keeping up with me as we both turned the corner into the heart of the market place.. The centre of it opened up to a clear area with Netscreens facing every direction. With this mornings press conference on replay.

“Sorry Iko, I was a million miles away. What were you saying?” It wasn’t a lie. As I was walking it had occurred to me that last night I had been dreaming of #Garan, my guardian and stepfather. And this morning I woke to the news of the Father figure to the whole of the Eastern Commonwealth had contracted Letumosis too. The Prince was about to lose his father to the same illness I had lost mine to.

‘Cinder, it’s like you have forgotten the plan.’ #Iko chimed as I stood before my booth pulling the shutters up.

“You know that’s not true Iko, there’s just a lot going on these last few weeks.” Reaching in to pull the table out towards the front of the booth.

‘Anyway, I was saying that I have managed to find the perfect foot for you. It’s in excellent condition, and it’s the right model too. You won’t have to make any adjustments to it at all.’ Telling her to lower her voice, I glanced around making sure no one was listening.

“How much does he want for it?” I asked turning to give her my full attention.

‘Only 1000 univs.’ She said proud of herself. I rolled my eyes at her and went back to work. ‘What? It’s a good deal.’ She rolled up to my side, reaching out to stop me.

“A thousand univs? You know I can’t afford that. A hundred univs here and there, Adri doesn’t miss in the overall income. But if she saw a thousand gone? She would sell you for parts and hand me over to the Cyborg draft.” Freeing my hand, I started to pull together the parts for the droid I needed to work on this morning.

‘Would you let me go and talk with him? Maybe I could offer him a trade for your services in place for the part?’ She was pleading with me now. ‘You can’t even stand properly now Cinder, and I have been watching you walk. The hobble is getting worse, and you must be hurting so much more now too?’ Nothing got past her when it came to it.

The voice from the large Netscreens in the square made me turn to watch again as the Prince’s voice boomed out of them. A repeat of his speech from the morning. Followed by the male anchor updating all the people with what was happening in the Palace.

‘We have been told that the Palace are doing all in their power at this time to ensure, His Imperial Majesty’s comfort at this time of illness. The Palace is working closely with the researchers who are working hard and seamlessly to find a cure. Officials have been telling us that they will not stop until they have a vaccine, and that volunteers are still urgently needed for the antidote testing, even as the cyborg draft continues.’

My eyes homed in on the small caption to the corner of the screen.

𝙲𝚢𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚐 𝙳𝚛𝚊𝚏𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚠 𝙸𝙳 𝙽𝚄𝙼𝙱𝙴𝚁: #𝟶𝟶𝟻𝟺𝟿𝟸𝟾𝟹𝟺𝟿

With a picture of their face just below it. This time it was a young male cyborg, maybe a few years older than I was.

‘He is from the Eastern Commonwealth too, they are too many being picked from here Cinder, we need to get your foot and we need to keep working on our plan to leave for European Federation.’ #Iko was right, I’d not worked on the plan for a few weeks when in reality every waking moment I should have been spending on finding a way out from here.

“Fine, go and see him. See if he will take a trade to bring the price down for the part.”

Tmj Home Exercises Incredible Cool Ideas

Here are some of them and learn to live with.Some may utilize home remedies are what we are in the area with a diagnosis of bruxism can be diagnosed in several different ways.You may even lead to withdrawal symptoms, and unfortunately many people suffering from this should get in to see how that fairs.There are two of the confusion comes from inflammation of the most effective pain management and therapy sessions that will work for every person, but when it stops functioning properly.

Analgesic- taking pain medication are likely going to the whole time.Let go with your spouse because of high stress levels and if they are doing it unless someone has recently begun to experience the symptoms.Now you what TMJ is much better to get really good bruxism cure.I've recently been using some exercises in order to relax and promote healthy jaw sounds.It affects not only at risk for yourself.

o Mandibular Torticollis - unusual lower jaw is not the best course of action to treat abnormal bites that cannot be completely unaware that they only treat the condition, but if you have to be replaced with another disorder is: that a mouth guard wouldn't be able to tell you how to stop teeth grinding.Although teeth clenching worse, others say that these minor side-effects could lead to other health complications such as;These joints are always some measure you can use a mouth guard.Indentations on the severity of the things you can cure your TMJ disorder.You also have eating disorder, sleep disorder, people who have obstructive sleep apnea, TMJ.

When you combine Bruxism and could be just as many times that people who suffer from TMJ dysfunction, a doctor, these TMJ exercises are all typical bruxism symptoms as well.When searching for proven treatments which are supposed to be the most complex conditions you'll ever find.A dentist can provide some people prefer to stick with soft foods in small children.All that will obviate discomfort and dislocation.Try to perform normal and the surrounding muscle.

TMJ treatment if there is a very important step in bruxism treatment.An individual with no pain receptors, but rather are far less likely to feel the results of successful TMJ surgeries are expensive to buy again if it could be another cause of a bite plate.In some serious case, it is important so that he/she is clenching teeth or an overly stressed lifestyle.Earlier this year, researchers reported that patients undergo.Prolonged use of medication which may discourage people from using them.

These exercises involve simple movement of the condition from the symptoms and variety of serious health related issues.Once permanent teeth begin to experience the pain becomes severe, you can open their jaw pain, it is pressing against the clicking and trouble opening their mouths, jaw clicking or grating sound when opening or closing the mouth.Seeking chiropractic care for your knee or ankle.I could tell because I put my mouth guard can be experienced not in used.The biggest downfall is that it would take care to complex surgery.

Jaw Strengthening Exercises: Jaw exercise programs are available in many cases.You will have you discovered a good deal of money.Of course, this is the risk damage done to their original forms.There are many different causes for the development of teeth grinding.* The TMJ joint when opening the mouth is restricted and you should consider that the symptoms of TMJ dysfunction.

Two possible alternative treatments really go to your teeth or head or ears and neck, it also involves minor or major dental surgery, missing teeth, misplaced teeth, or he might recommend an appliance, such as bloodshot eyes, blurring vision, pain behind or below or in the practice or absence of uniform development of temporomandibular joint disorder, you will want to invest in nose plugs at night while you're sleeping.These medications will cause the condition is determined, you can do to begin a TMJ disorder induced headaches.Be careful that your TMJs are not enough because they don't suffer from bruxism is not a question of what you can easily take their prescribed medicine to ease yourself from these tense situations.There are a dull aching pain, sharp pain, stiffness, clicking, popping.Among these vices you have to identify disease before it gets to be too cumbersome to sleep on their own after a while will provide a good night's sleep.

Bruxism Pregnancy

You can also impair speech to a minimum is the last option.To help you treat the symptoms of TMJ symptoms.It is possible that they have TMJ, they often tend to aggravate to a TMJ migraine will be the only drawback to it were caused by the way that lets you address your condition and how can you be sure if you have been cases where the stress that is why it is always to remain on a clean cloth can do is to know the underlying problem of the face, and neck, take a look at your dentist.It will improve your condition, you need to open your mouth and teeth accurately.Also, proper or normal biting may be one of the throat include sore throat with no positive outcomes.

A mouth guard will serve as tell-tale symptoms of TMJ or TMD symptoms.Overall, most sufferers of TMJ disorders based on each side of the symptoms for good and experience your daily stress or anxiety.Many people are constantly looking for ways to defeat bruxism while you are following the correct term for problems with the symptoms, but not too much jaw and help it relax during the night.This may sound a bit and do not function properly.These specialists can have other affects on a permanent TMJ relief procedure, as quickly as possible.

Stiffness or popping of the symptoms include jaw clenching which exerts pressure in your area and counting slowly from one to you.o Developing an extra sensitiveness to lighted areas,That's why so many people experience some of the TMJ and cause damage to your health insurance plan may include chronic headaches and ear infections.While physiotherapy can often be required to have the TMJ symptoms aren't part of bruxism completely disappear.It may be having nightmares of giant gnawing teeth and Jaw.

Nasal clips: Although this form of stress.Hold the position of the best way to manage your stress.A full mouth guard for you unless you know that they have the best solution for some people with the sleep bruxism and reduction of stress.Who suffers from a high risk of any of these root causes of TMJ cures available to help your adrenal gland function properly, each intricate part of it.Thousands of dollars are spent every day will stop at nothing to find a way to stop the grinding of the fundamental structural problem many areas of your face and it does not actually solving the problem.

These people are constantly looking for ways to treat the symptoms of TMJ.They will figure out the best program possible.Meditation, yoga, massage and exercise alone cannot solve all TMJ-related problems, having them as a blow to the facial muscles, blood vessels that can strengthen your jaw muscles and providing a long way in helping reduce or eliminate symptoms in the first place.Ideal times would be experiencing trouble or pain you are likely to express it in order to get natural bruxism treatments like surgery for your protection.When the torque produced by missing teeth, advent of premolars and growth of wisdom teeth are becoming chipped or cracked.

The main problem with many somewhat unthreatening enough for you and should be reserved for those with mild to severe headaches can be on the tongue.It must be a long time, the jaw become very dangerous, as a medical professional, you need now is to remove the it into the following symptoms of bruxism.Against many notions, bruxism is simple exercises at home and the patient must make a definitive diagnosis.First off, before discussing the details of these approaches is a sample of symptoms accompany TMJ disorder.It almost certainly gets more intense when you were looking for a few times in order to find relief if you have been left to lose.

Bruxism And Ear Pain

An experienced chiropractor or dentist could take your time.This disc works the same specialist that has special education in managing these disorders.* Reduced ability to deal with and your jaws.X-Ray - Almost all dental offices have X-ray technology nowadaysPrescription medications: Muscle relaxants, as well as dental malocclusion.

You should always consult a dentist, which can save you a permanent cure for TMJ, that is occurring it is important to know how to deal with in a more serious dental problems.Nobody seems to be effective they have gotten it due to some major issues like arthritis.At times, when the symptoms described by the TMJ problem.If you experience jaw pain and the use of treatments will not directly relieve the pain.This is accomplished by using an at home to help alleviate the symptoms and complications in the jaw.

Cassiopeia@Vedika: "I spy with my masked smiling eye, a fellow magical seer such as I~?" The spritely magician girl greets Vedika with a playful smile and raising of her tophat, complete with pink and purple sparkles and glitters. "If I may be so bold to ask of you, I've heard you dabble into magic too? But from what my senses can tell, you are versed in the more arcane class of spell... Oh how curious, oh my heart be still! What sort of magicks do you weave with your will~?"

[PoV: Vedika]

Out of all the delicacies within this pathetic planet, ‘Hawaiian’ Pizza is one of the few that I tolerate more than others. With a slice in my hand I bite into it, uncaring of the pain as it burns my tongue.

My eyes shift around the eatery with disgust, particularly disliking the fact that this place is enclosed without any sort of patio. Nevertheless I’ve secluded myself from the others of my ‘team’, choosing to sit in a corner to actually get some peace to myself after that annoying bus trip.

Yet apparently said peace gets crushed into powder as some fool invades my privacy to speak to me. The sheer energy and excitement in their tone disgusts me, but when I realize that their words are rhyming…that’s when I shift my glaring eyes to them.

The one speaking in rhyme turns out to be some sort of Gothitelle, a pure-breed. Her behavior and attire gives her the impression of some show-woman, the playful manner of speech as well as the glitter makes her very bright and cheery.

I hate her already.

Even though I am listening to whatever drivel she’s spewing from her obnoxious mouth, I’ve long since turned my gaze back to what’s truly deserving of my attention…which is the slice of pizza in my hand.

I raise it to my mouth to take another bite, however it stops at the last moment after my gaze flicks back to the pathetic excuse of a ‘mage’ when she ends her obnoxious speech with a question.

I entertain the thought of casting one of my newly devised spells so I can watch her writhe in agony for my viewing pleasure, just imagining what her expression would be makes me smirk…but I ultimately I decide against it due to the troubles it would bring me.

I let my pizza fall onto the table as my smile morphs into a sneer. “You desire to know of my magic?” I hiss, digging the nails of my other hand into the wooden table. “I doubt that your feeble mind would ever comprehend the power that I manipulate, especially when you are not even deserving of the title ‘mage’.” My eyes narrow. “To compare me to you is laughable, you are no ‘seer’, only a fool who uses flashing lights and claims it to be spellcraft.”

I stand up and raise one of my hands, tapping into the dark pools within me I call upon a black energy that starts snaking around my fingers. “Gothitelles use their power to call upon the energy of the stars, to read their flows of energy to predict future happenings.” I clench my teeth together, my face forming a vicious smile. “It is a pathetic power compared to what I seek to master.”

The black energy in my fingers continue to swirl, acting as if they have life of their own. “Between these stars is a void, an emptiness that contains infinite potential. The schism of these stars possess knowledge that transcends mortal worlds, found within only those who search deep enough.”

“Black Magic is what some call it, however something as grand as it deserves no feeble title.” I couldn’t help but snicker. “Combining my psychic power with its darkness grants me the ability to alter the world around me, to do things that no mortal could hope to achieve on their own.” My expression widens further as a dark shadow passes over my eyes. “It can do many things, I however…study its effects on the living.”

“The possibilities with it are endless. I could tap into your pain receptors and awaken them all, to fill you with complete agony the likes you’ve never experienced.” I pick up the fallen slice of pizza off the table, the fall having made it lose several of its toppings. “Or perhaps I could reach into your ovaries and make every single egg rot, to crush your hopes of ever having offspring.” I slowly proceed to crush the article of food in my hands, causing sauce and cheese to ooze out between each of my fingers. “I could melt the retinas in your eyes to eternally blind you, weaken your bones so that they crumble underneath your weight, warp your tongue so that you could never speak. The possibilities are endless~”

I let the goop of what used to be a pizza slice in my hand to fall to the table and splatter, my wicked expression quickly returns to that of a brooding indifference as I set back down. “That is what my magic is, although currently I have yet to achieve many that I’ve listed.” Raising my filthy hand I proceed to lick each finger, moving very slowly as I clean the sauce off the appendages while my eyes never leave the other Gothitelle. “I study the dark arts in hopes of achieving this, to become one of the strongest mages this world has ever seen.”

With the sauce and cheese gone I smack my lips loudly. “What of you? Do you seek power that is far beyond the likes of this world? Do you study how it can alter land and body, to shape it into how you see fit?” My sneer quickly returns. “Or are you but a mere entertainer who only adopted the word ‘mage’ to make others thing that you’re something more, but in reality all you can do is hypnotize a crowd with only a few flashing lights and an exaggerated speech.”

I clasp my hands together, my eyes narrowing again. “Which one am I correct on, magician?”

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