#the metric system is so chaotic i love it
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Santorine: We Need to Fail Faster to Succeed Sooner in Wheeling Area
You can and will be a Hall of Fame slugger if you fail seven out of 10 times at the plate in Major League Baseball. It takes a batting average just north of .300 to get there. That’s in the “Majors.” As good as it gets.
That is a 70 percent failure rate.
But we expect our employers to step up to the plate and knock it out of the park every time. That’s a remarkable mental disconnect, isn’t it?
I love sports metaphors for life and business because they are so uncannily accurate.
I think it speaks volumes about the games that we play, and how seriously all sports affect us. Remember that cliche, work hard, play hard? I know, as Americans, we do that better than anyone else in the world.
When I talk to entrepreneurs about startups, I tell them what I learned investing my own money. On a good year, I had about .342 average just like Babe Ruth, and during a great year, a Ted Williams like .406 (Which, I might add, he only accomplished for one season).
I ask these highly motivated entrepreneurs to look at the people on either side of them and know their business will likely not survive.
It’s no better in corporate America.The statistics on new product successes are about the same. 70 percent fail. 30 percent succeed.
So, we know that:
Some “Artificial Intelligence” companies are going to fail.
Some “Green Energy” companies are going to fail.
Some “Software” startups are going to fail.
The beauty of capitalism is that it’s a self-organizing chaotic system. The emphasis is on “self-organizing” It’s a whole different thing when the government gets involved.
The government will spend your money with reckless abandon in a futile attempt to justify their “economic development” investment in a buggy whip manufacturer. They will pick unqualified people who have the right political connections to receive the money extorted from their constituents, and those same unqualified people will find a way to line their pockets from the public treasury.
Private industry does not have the same amoral obsession as bureaucrats. The business world has balance sheets, which are factual. If you continue to lose money, it’s likely you won’t have money to pay the power bill, and the lights will go out.
Like sports, it’s a numbers game. You lose, you head to the showers. If you’re smart, you make corrections, and we will see you again next year.
The other thing we know is that about one-third of these startups will position the communities where they are located for future success. But you can’t get to those diamonds without moving around a lot of dirt.
Our beloved Wheeling area has historically driven entrepreneurs away. The number of times I’ve heard that “so and so” is bankrupt because their latest venture failed makes me want to wretch. Most people don’t know what bankruptcy is, the difference between a business one and a personal one, but they KNOW it all, and if their business goes down, so does the entrepreneur.
The rumor mill is why I don’t do startups in Wheeling. It’s not worth the commentary from the know-it-alls. So, I invest in startups that create jobs elsewhere, because the environment in Wheeling is just too toxic.
Wheeling needs to understand that the steel industry is not coming back. The coal industry is not going to come back to its former glory. I do appreciate them both, and the fine people who make a difference in legacy industry, but truth is truth.
By measuring every startup in the Ohio Valley by this hundred-year metric, and by families carping that “Johnny is out doing this stupid startup when he could be making real money in the mill” pins us in a corner where we don’t have a back bench. That means we don’t have a future.
We do not have new companies vying to make it, and to be the critical new employers we need in this Ohio Valley.
Who’s on deck? Well, no one. It shows, too.
“I have not failed. I've just found 10,000 ways that won't work.”
― Thomas A. Edison
For the record, investors are more likely to invest with an entrepreneur who had a business that didn’t work out. They learned what worked, and more importantly, what didn’t. Were they too early to market? Too late? Did they chase a market that really didn’t exist? So much to learn, and so little time.
So far, it’s the Wheeling community that has discouraged entrepreneurs from doing start-ups. They have done it actively, too.
Let’s face more truth – you miss 100 percent of the balls you don’t swing at.
Wheeling does not swing at many, and when we do, there is a propensity to pick big picture snake oil salesmen who doesn’t have the business chops to pull it off.
So, go hug an entrepreneur. If you like their business proposal, get behind them.
If you have some money to lose, invest with them, and fully expect the money to go away. That way, you’ll be pleasantly surprised if you get a return.
Then, take a piece of your winning and invest again. Trust me, it’s more fun than the casino!
Wheeling needs startups. The community culture about business needs to change. And we need business to fail on its own. We need this to happen now, and for it to happen quickly.
By failing faster, we will succeed sooner.
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Placebo in Rock & Folk magazine - April 2003
Words by Jerome Soligny, photos by Carole Epinette
Wonky translation under the cut:
These three did it all. Shot with the QOTSAs and posed with Indo. They survived "Velvet Goldmine" and the Top Bab. They come back after the ordeal of the fourth album. Danger interview: “Jerome, what if you came out?” They ask our charming reporter.
"We do not regret anything"
Everything begins again with "Bulletproof Cupid", a punky instrument that pulls everything off. Then "English Summer Rein", mechanico-depressive spinning punctuated by twisted keyboards, and "Sleeping With Ghosts", the lament which advances while blistering during cooking, confirm the tone. Against all expectations, because you never know how will age the groups that the previous album installed at the Top, Placebo took over. And stuffed it in an iron glove. Further on, "The Bitter End" tumbles through yapping guitars which would stick to the hatches the thickest of the sailors. Be careful, Placebo is on the way out of being one. At the end of the record, Brian Molko, Stefan Olsdal and Steve Hewitt do not even run out of steam. The cows. They drop a "Centerfolds" which frolic like a cynical top under a shower of saving doubts. What augur still other perspectives.
The fourth album: a horror for all who have faced it. Often a stupid trap. Returning from the Gothic directly inherited from the glam of pageantry and from these hasty and harmful certainties which congest the face and the veins, Placebo publishes its first real great disc. Oh, not the marvel of wonders, not the album from the third millennium, but something very strong, compact, tenacious in listening, which proves that the future is indeed there, in front, where the light is most blinding. Calfeucée in their Parisian hotel (the Costes, of course), our three lads do not make the blow of the revelation, of the luminous questioning. Simply, they now think with their heads, a good plan most often Likewise, reality no longer frightens them, and it is probably she who is hiding behind this "Sleeping With Ghosts" which relates the sorrows only for the better. melt into hopes At the moment when rock brings us back to life and when we just want to ask them everything, the Placebo have decided to say everything. Not even in a hurry, they settle down on the couch, ready to talk like never before. Despite new batteries embedded in the carcass, the Panasonic barely a Brian Molko: Hey Jerome, you came to talk to us this time when you had not come to the previous album ...
Rock & Folk: Uh yes but I was there for the first two, that says a lot, right?
Brian Molko: Certainly, I also believe that over time, we finally appreciate the true nature of the problem: we were mainly criticized for the sound of the previous album, which I can understand but, paradoxically, it is the one that brought us to the Top.
R&F: Legitimately, we have the right to expect a lot from the people we love: while "Black Market Music" sounded a bit like a sequel, this new record is all about a renaissance.
Brian Molko: Actually, we were finally able to live a little. After having existed in a small bubble for a very long time, we forced ourselves to take an eight-month break. The album-tour rhythm put us on the sidelines: we no longer had normal contact with anything. We were losing ourselves. We have fully lived the old cliché which claims that we spend the first years of our life writing a first record and six months on the second. It turned out to be very true. We had to get back to the situation of the first album, see friends, go shopping, look at the buildings in our city.
R&F: So the freshness would come from there ...
Brian Molko: Yes, and it was essential spiritually, emotionally and physically.
Steve Hewitt: We had to be in tune with reality again.
Brian Molko: In fact, we find ourselves in a bit of the same state of mind as when we released "Without You I'm Nothing", although "Sleeping With Ghosts" is a lot less gloomy. The heroin has since stopped leaking. In fact, I feel like I've pulled myself out of what I consider my second teenage years, between twenty and thirty. I conquered the self-destruction, exorcised some demons, understood what had happened to me. I held on to what I had learned. As a human being, I am now able to continue living, to try to answer the big questions posed by existence.
R&F: Maybe that's why the melodies are needed this time. It took me four records to get a favorite Placebo track.
The whole group in chorus: Which one?
R&F: "Protect Me From What I Want", of course ...
Brian Molko: The most paradoxical is that this song dates from the end of the "Black Market Music" sessions. I was not married at the time, but I was trying to get out of a particularly vicious divorce.just started. Then we wait for the lyrics, which don't arrive, it's rather intriguing. We especially wanted to avoid the big Rican producer side, we needed someone who shakes us up a bit. Jim could do that because he comes from dance and his pedigree is impressive. We have all his records at home, Bjôrk, Massive Attack, Sneaker Pimps and especially DJ Shadow. It is believed that guitar rock can only evolve by incorporating new genres, this is the only way to remain a modern rock band. At home, we practically only listen to hip hop.
R&F: Still, he didn't betray you.
Brian Molko: No because he actually brought out our rock side, which I'm particularly proud of. In fact, because we always wanted to control everything, it was not easy to be forced, to do certain things backwards, to walk on the head. But in truth, that's what we wanted: yes, there was some tension in the studio but we all took advantage of it. The challenge is necessary and it is also valid for the public. We opened up and rediscovered ourselves.
Stefan Olsdal (emerging from his chair): We found ourselves in front of the mirror, at the foot of the wall: someone had to kick our ass.
Brian Molko: Jim was like, "Why are you doing this?" We would answer him: "Because we always do it like that!" He would say: "All the more reason not to do it."
Stefan Olsdal: On the first day, he messed up all the demos, changed the tones, the tempos ...
R&F: Like Brian Eno ...
Steve Hewitt: Yeah, but with a lot more compassion. Eno is a bit (silence) ... We don't really like being told our actions, but at the same time, we are still young, still absorbing. Jim knew how to preserve us while making a modern sound.
R&F: Modern and rock'n'roll at the same time, a characteristic which does not necessarily apply to all the young groups in The which recycle the past gently but are convinced to have found the virus of the AIDS.
Steve Hewitt: Placebo doesn't belong to any current, has nothing to do with fashion.
R&F: You always pose as outsiders.
Brian Molko: It's the only way to survive.
Steve Hewitt: These bands, like The Strokes, play the nostalgia card.
Stefan Olsdal: And what happens next? I would not like to be in their place.
Brian Molko: If you want good New York pop, you better listen to Blondie.
R&F: In 2003, 11 seems that you have abandoned all the androgynous paraphernalia, sexual ambiguity, glam references ...
Brian Molko: I think today everyone knows what there is to know. Our sexual inclinations haven't changed, and we still wear makeup. It is just more expensive and better applied. We are ourselves, in our music and in private. I went through my travelo period (in French in the interview - Editor's note), and I understood that being androgynous was not wearing skirts. It is a way of being on the spiritual plane. It is not an image but a state of mind.
Steve Hewitt: It's like being punk, it's an attitude.
Brian Molko: At the same time, I don't regret any of my eccentricities. I grew up in the spotlight and it all kind of makes me smile.
Stefan Olsdal: People still talk to us about certain outfits or positions, as if it still shocks them.
R&F: Yes, and particularly in France, a particularly homophobic country which bumps heartily on gay artists.
Brian Molko: And you, coincidentally, you still hang out with.
Stefan Olsdal: Jérôme, it's coming out time (laughs) ...
Brian Molko: All that has to change, that all of France becomes gay (laughs)!
R&F: "Protect Me From What I Want" precisely, here is a title heavy with meaning. What was the idea behind this song?
Brian Molko: For me, it's a study of the pathological need people have to copulate, the search for meaning in copulation. As if bachelors or monogamists were aliens. As if we were only one when we were two. The song is about the fact that one relationship has destroyed me but I can't help but look for another ... why do I keep coming back to this?
R&F: Wow, we're bathing in philosophy here!
Brian Molko: Yes and it's the same elsewhere in the record: in "Plasticine", I insist on the fact that you have to be yourself above all while asking myself all these questions. Why do we have to do a lot of forbidden things, bad or harmful?
R&F: It's therapy in public.
Brian Molko: At least I find some balance in it. These are not songs about compassion or self-pity. They came out like this because it was vital for me. I am in this privileged situation where I can express myself and the world hears me. Otherwise, I would be really frustrated and I would have suffered a lot more in the last fifteen years.
R&F: Music saved your life.
Brian Molko: Sure.
Steve Hewitt: Everyone: I think we can say that. Without Placebo, we would not be not even alive.
Brian Molko: Spitting it all out is not necessarily the right solution. There are things with which to live. In fact, I've always been afraid to go see a psychiatrist ...
R&F: Yet, listening to you speak earlier, you could have the feeling that Jim Abiss acted a bit like a shrink with you.
Brian Molko: That's right. You could say that.
R&F: At a time when Bush and Blair want to play World War III, what attitude do you adopt? What do you think of these Englishmen who left for Iraq to constitute a human shield?
Brian Molko: Let's say we stand together. We participated in the March for Peace on February 14th with Damon Albarn and 3D from Massive Attack. We were also surprised that so few groups mobilized, which increased our desire to participate tenfold.
R&F: Do you consider that it is the role of the artist to give voice in such circumstances?
Steve Hewitt: Yes, in the sense that we can help with general motivation.
Brian Molko: I'm very interested in seeing if Blair is going to let Bush bomb Iraq with the British present on the soil of the country. If he ever allows that, the consequences will be dire.
R&F: It will only be one more religious war, in the name of oil and money ...
Brian Molko: It seems absurd that we can still fight for that. And curiously, nobody speaks more, or almost, of Bin Laden. Wouldn't it all come from him, by chance, as a huge consequence of September 11? On the other hand, we have such a feeling that Bush wants to finish the job that daddy started. Its image is so bad that it needs at least one war to restore its image.
Steve Hewitt: And reinvigorate its dying economy.
R&F: The method is lamentable, deceitful. Like those employed by the recording industry which claims to be doing well by selling pop in damaged boxes to ignoramuses.
Brian Molko: The ability of this job to ingest people, bribe them and then spit them out is impressive. This is what happened here at Canal +.R&F: Business is the beast.
Brian Molko: All these pre-made artists are young and naff ...
Steve Hewitt: They'll all end up in a labor camp for ex-pop stars.
R&F: Warhol was talking about fifteen minute glory, we're brutally passed to fifteen seconds.
Brian Molko: We should have called them Karaoke idols from the start.
Steve Hewitt: And it only works because of the TV ...
R&F: Who washes the poor, helpless brains.
Steve Hewitt: You can tell how much people want to think less
R&F: And spend less. For many, music should be free: one in five thirteen-year-olds doesn't know that a disc doesn't have to be a computer-burnt puck. Some are flabbergasted when they see a cover for the first time.
Stefan Olsdal: And those who don't buy records put pressure on those who have them to pass them on at all costs, just long enough to copy them.
R&F: Exactly.
Brian Molko: That's why we blame Robbie Williams so much. Scooping 80 million pounds off EMI and then declaring that pirating music is a fantastic thing just makes him want to stick a chunk in his face.
R&F .: And then piracy is not a matter of environment. It's not a suburban thing. There are rich kids who find it normal to burn 80 CDs during their weekend and sometimes sell them to their friends ...
Brian Molko: What do these people believe? That we are there, the face in the stream with a syringe stuck in the arm singing "La Vie En Rose"? And who will pay for our children's school? Not them, anyway. Our mentality is quite different: we always want to buy records from people we love, from our friends. Personally, we are partly out of the woods, but it will be particularly difficult for new groups to make a living from music in five or ten years.
R&F: Come on, we're not going to leave each other on this, a little humor won't hurt anyone. If you were to be banned from any of these three things, which would you choose: making music, making money or making love?
Steve Hewitt (almost tit for tat): I would stop making money, without hesitation. It's because I love music and sex too much. And then, well, you have to choose.
Brian Molko (completely overwhelmed): Oh damn, that's not true. What a dilemma!
R&F: No Brian, that doesn't count, make an effort (laughs).
Brian Molko: Ah, I don't know. And then if. I would stop making money and get on well with someone super rich.
R&F: Or you would be pimp ...
Brian Molko: Yes, that's it. Good plan.
Stefan Olsdal: Stop making love does not mean to stop loving ...
Brian Molko (preparing his shot): And we can always masturbate (general laughter).
Stefan Olsdal: OK then, I would stop making love.
R&F: Okay, it will be written in black and white for all eternity.
Brian Molko: Will we live long enough to regret it? This is the real question.
*COLLECTED BY JEROME SOLIGNY
[Inset, Trash Palace]
Already present on the first album by Trash Palace which he had adorned with his presence one unhealthy recovery of "I Love You, Me No More "in duet with Asia Argento, Brian Molko is coming to re-stack. This time he cosigns directly "The Metric System " with Dimitri Trash Palace Tikovoi, an electro saw boosted to bleeps fundamentals available in two remix and its clip on an enhanced single recently published at Discograph. The result is particularly (d) amazing and sounds good logical, like of Placebo cyber.Placebo in Rock & Folk magazine - April 2003
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To Marry a Vigilante: Part 2
MASTERLIST || First || Previous || Next
Disclaimer: Masterlist
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The day before Christmas… was a nightmare. Marinette had to admit that Damian was right. Her parents volunteered to help Alfred in the kitchen. The butler tried to argue, but his fighting with Sabine was an unstoppable force meeting an unmovable object. In the end, they got a compromise that the baker couple would help that day, but would be banned from the kitchen for the rest of Christmas.
The boys meanwhile were ordered to decorate the house and prepare the formal dining room. And it was a mess. First, Dick and Jason spent almost an hour arguing over the decorations, only to then see that Mari and Damian already decorated the room with the merchandise Damian somehow got imported from Paris without their knowledge. Jason tried to dismantle the decorations that were put up without a warning, but it ended with Damian chasing him with a sword… again. It didn’t help that Todd kept riling the youngest Wayne up. Technically second-youngest since he was older than Marinette by a few months, but that’s beyond the point.
Then, when Jason ended up with a slight limp after he crashed into a cupboard when trying to cut the corner and Damian’s bloodthirst got satisfied, it was time for decorating the Christmas tree. When Mari saw the tree, she almost toppled over. It was put in the hall before the stairway to the second floor. It was tall enough to almost reach the ceiling.
“That’s your tree?”
“In my defense, I tried to order a smaller one. It’s not my fault they gave size in the metric system.” Tim argued.
“If you cut on coffee and instead got some sleep once in a while, maybe you would’ve noticed.” Jason snickered.
Dick took the opportunity to climb upstairs and start decoration, only to be caught by Steph, who proceeded to decorate on the other side. Seeing the two already started, the three other boys also raced to start putting decorations. It was a mess, but somehow Marinette found it endearing. It felt… homey. Then she grabbed some decorations and joined Damian. Then she teamed up with Steph to make a large bat symbol on one side out of gold tinsel garland. Then she made a red ‘R’ inside it.
And this time nobody got hurt.
After that, Dick and Jason left for their respective homes. Tim and Steph left shortly after, leaving Damian and Mari alone with the adults. Technically, Cass also stayed at the manor, but unless she wanted to be seen, only Alfred (and now Sabine) could find her.
The teens decided to stay in the Manor. Marinette was dead set on making everyone their gifts by hand. She brought several unfinished designs that could be adjusted. Damian was kind enough to collect the measurements for each family member from Alfred.
And so Mari then spent all evening in her room, where she worked on adjusting and finishing everything. She was beyond grateful that her room was already equipped with a sewing machine and anything else she would need to make the gifts. The whole time Damian sat nearby to offer some advice. Mostly, he just enjoyed watching her work on the designs.
“Do you think putting a Red Robin logo on this tie would be too much?” She asked, showing a red tie with black accents. It had a meticulous black stitch going through the narrow part. It spelled MDC over and over.
“Maybe put it inside, so that it only shows when he put it upside-down,” Damian answered.
“But then nobody will see it.”
“There is a bigger chance someone sees it than if it’s on the front.” The boy deadpanned.
“Don’t be mean.” She scolded him, but her pearly laughter kinda ruined it. She put the tie away and reached for the sunglasses she was working on. They used to be black, but she tinted the glass deep-red and then added details at the side. Now, there was a small silver bullet-shaped decoration where they would fold. She had a case ready where she stitched the shape of a red handgun at the top of black leather.
“And this?”
“Habibti. They will definitely love your gifts.” He gave her a soft smile. “If not, I will introduce them to my sword” He muttered, hoping she would not hear it.
“Damian!” She shouted. His hopes went in flames. “No murdering people!”
“Can I at least maim?” He asked with a hopeful voice.
“Hm… only if you ask me before.” She giggled at his expression.
“I think it is high time I retreat to my bedroom. It’s almost midnight, Angel. Go to sleep.” He stood up and walked outside, only to be met with Sabine’s judging eyes. She watched him carefully before smiling slightly.
“Good. You can go. I will tuck her in.”
After she passed him, Damian let out a breath he didn’t know he held. That woman was scary.
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The next morning was still hectic, but no longer so chaotic. Mari spent half of it locked in her room giving the designs final touches. She did not let Damian or her parents in since she focused on their gifts and didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Alfred was the only one who got a peek inside and he didn’t even fear Sabine, so the chances he would tell anything to anyone were less than Joker genuinely apologizing to everyone he ever hurt.
Finally, around midday, Marinette finally revealed herself. The room was a mess of cut fabric, loose papers, and Kwami knows what else. There was also a bowl of water in the corner.
“That was a race.” She commented before grabbing Damian’s hand and dragging him into the living room to share a tea and cookies. All adults cooed.
“So, Habibti. Care to reveal what you made for me?” The boy asked hopefully once they were both sitting side-by-side on the two-people couch. She held a cup of steaming tea while Damian put his in a small cup holder while he was eating a cookie.
“Nope.” She grinned. “But I can tell you that you will like it.”
“From you? I will like any gift.” He answered smoothly.
“Stop it!” She squealed, blushing heavily. “You can’t say things like that out of the blue.”
“Why?” He asked, giving her a barely noticeable smile.
“I can’t go around blushing all the time!”
“But you look so cute with red cheeks.”
“You don’t look so bad either, Mi Amor,” she retorted. She wanted to get some reaction from him, but he only smiled slightly more.
They rested, cuddled together for a bit, enjoying the silence that surrounded them. It was interrupted when suddenly Cass dropped out of the blue. Or from the ceiling, but they would’ve sworn she was not there before.
“You… Cousin?” The girl asked.
“Oh! You must be Cassandra!” Mari recognized her. Cass was maybe her height. She was dressed in workout clothes. “Nice to meet you. I’m Marinette.”
“Marinette,” Cass repeated. “Call me Cass. Everyone does.”
“Um… Sure. You can call me Mari if you like?” Both Damian and Cass grinned at that, much to the french girl’s confusion. “Did I miss some joke?”
“No, Angel. It’s just that Grayson’s daughter is named Mar’i” Damian looked at his beloved’s expression.
“Oh. Oh…” The realization dawned on her. “Well, then what about… Nettie?”
“Nettie… Like it.” Cass responded.
“Cass doesn’t speak much.” The boy took it upon himself to explain. “She first learned to communicate through body gestures.”
“Maman told me. I can’t believe aunt Sandra left you with that monster. Maman told her some things though, so maybe next time you two meet she will apologize.”
“Mother… Apologize… Me?” The girl asked in disbelief.
“Maman is a very persuasive person.”
Cass didn’t speak about that, but a memory of the hug two of them shared yesterday surfaced at the top of her thoughts.
“Anyway, you wanted to get to know me? Well… um… I’m fifteen, soon to be sixteen. I love fashion and design and I make almost all of my clothes. I also practice some martial arts in my free time. I love sketching outdoors. There is this small park next to my parent’s bakery that I love to visit. In the past, I adored the works of Gabriel brand, but after the owner turned out to be a major bastard I kinda decided to just stick to my own stuff. What else… I prefer tea to coffee unless I need to pull an all-nighter, my favorite sweets are macarons and my uncle named his soup after me when he won the cooking competition.”
“Soup… good?” Cass decided to ask.
“Oh! It’s the best. Actually, maybe we could ask uncle Wang to cook for our wedding, Dami! Can we? He would be invited anyway but then people would get to…”
“Of course, Habibti.” Damian interrupted her.
“Wedding?” Cass had more questions.
“Oh… Um… You didn’t know?” Marinette doubled back. “Of course you didn’t know. Damian tried to keep it down and I ruined it. Please don’t tell anyone. I’m so sorry Dami! I forgot! I was just so…”
Damian, following the usual routine when Mari started to panic, pulled her to his chest, and hugged her. He whispered something low enough for Cassandra not to hear. She did notice the couple’s body language. Devotion and love.
When Marinette finally calmed, Damian let her out of his embrace. “Thanks. I still keep some of my… less desirable habits.”
“It’s no problem. At least I have an excuse to cuddle with you without my brothers’ merciless teasing.”
“Wedding.” Cass urged them. Her curiosity was peaking.
“Ah! Right. So basically Talia kidnapped me and decided I would marry her son and then we both woke up tied before the altar and she threatened to kill us and our families if we didn’t go through with it. And I was so scared back then. And T… And I had no way to do anything else.”
Cass saw her tense and stopped herself. There was more to it, but she didn’t drill. She would learn later. Or just get it out of Tim. He knew everything.
“Well, now we’re stuck and there is this weird spell on us that makes it impossible to cheat on one another. At least I assume it works both ways since Damian didn’t test it.” There was no doubt in her voice and her body showed complete trust. Cass was actually impressed.
“The bitch that my mother is,” Marinette wanted to scold Damian on the language he used, but then again, he spoke about Talia so he wasn’t lying, “used some old curse on us, probably from the time my grandfather was still young. We are tied together. But we made it work.”
“Magic… bad.” Cass scoffed.
“No!” Mari quickly protested. “I mean not all magic is bad. It all depends on who uses it! Besides, everything turned out better than I could’ve ever hoped.”
“Good. I… Like you.” Her cousin smiled. “Hug?” She asked.
“Sure.” Marinette nodded and before she knew it Cass tackled her into the couch, almost breaking her bones.
“Oooh!” a new voice cooed. Damian immediately whirled around with a small dagger that he pulled from wherever he kept it. Selina Kyle was standing there, watching everything.
“Tt. I don’t like being spied upon.” Damian scowled.
“Relax, lover-boy. I just came and I was curious where everyone went and who were the new people.”
“Oh. That’s probably my parents. Alfred kicked them out of the kitchen today. They will probably be relaxing in the garden since they rarely have a chance to just relax. They run a bakery in Paris.” Mari smiled at the newcomer.
“Really now? And you’re the unlucky girl that got stuck with the short, dark, and brooding?”
“Tt. I’m not short.”
“I don’t hear you arguing about the dark and brooding part.” Selina teased.
“Angel, meet my father’s fiancée, Selina Kyle. She is also Catwoman.”
“Oh. She is in on the family business then?”
“Tt. Yes. I don’t keep things hidden from my wife.” Damian kept scowling.
“Aren’t you a dutiful husband?”
“I’m not afraid to defend my wife’s honor with a sword, thief.” The boy threatened. Selina measured him for a moment.
“Good.” She turned to Marinette. “He will do. If he is causing you trouble, you can crash at my place.” She gave her a small square paper with an address before leaving.
“Um… What was that?”
“Tt. That was Selina for you.” Damian was still in a bad mood until Marinette snuggled closer to him.
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Around five, the guests started arriving. It was unanimously decided that the youngest couple would be the ones to greet their guests. And looking at the size of the table, there would be more guests than Mari assumed. Damian was now dressed in a flawless black suit with a matching bowtie and a white shirt. Mari chose to wear the red dress that she knew left Damian speechless every time he saw her. Her hair was let go and formed waves cascading down her back.
Jason was first. He came on his bike alone. While everyone dressed in something elegant, he opted for an oil-stained t-shirt and brown leather jacket, complete with black cargo pants and heavy boots. Marinette had to admit he gave a bad-boy vibe that told her to stay away. But she’s seen this with Ivan and she was pretty sure Jason was, in fact, a big softie once one got to know him.
Next to arrive were Tim and Stephanie. She wore a black and purple knee-length dress. It had no sleeves and hugged her form tightly. The design was several large squares of material sewn together so no two colors were the same. It was an interesting design. Tim wore a blue suit with black accents and a white shirt. They looked like a nice couple. And the boy looked almost awake, which was a success. Also, they were dragging a giant bag of gifts.
Shortly after, a small van pulled close and five people exited. There was an older couple, a joyful boy around their age jumping around them, and two people Marinette recognized instantly. You couldn’t hang around Alya and not recognize Clark Kent and Lois Lane-Kent.
“Tt. Jon.” Damian greeted the boy.
“Sup Dames? Hello fair lady.” He greeted them, happiness almost oozing from him. Jon went as far as kissing her hand.
“Could you stop with the flowers and rainbows?” Wayne growled.
“But it’s Christmas!”
“Tt. I know.” Damian was angry. Seeing it, his beloved grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly.
“Hello Mr. Kent, Mrs. Lane-Kent.” Marinette greeted the adults, hoping to diffuse the situation before Damian gets too riled up.
“You must be Marinette. I remember Jon mentioning you when we talked about his trip to Paris.” Clark smiled. He then nodded toward the older couple. “These are my parents, Johnathan and Martha Kent.”
“It’s nice to meet ya, girl.” The man nodded toward her.
“Hi. I’m Marinette.” She gave them a smile. Just as the Kents went inside, another car pulled in.
This time, it was Dick with his wife, Kor’i, and daughter Mar’i. They all got out of the car.
“I still don’t understand why you insist on driving this thing. I could’ve flown us here twice as fast.” The woman had distinctively orange skin and her eyes were entirely green. Marinette instantly recognized her as Starfire. She wore a white shirt with bell-like sleeves that reached to her elbows and blue jeans that ended just above her ankles. Dick had a dark-gray shirt and jeans. She would classify their outfits as smart casual.
“Yeah, daddy! I can fly too!” To prove her point, the little girl rose a bit into the air. She was dressed in an oversized purple jumper that reached to the ground. She also wore white trainers. Her skin was less orange than her mother’s but the color was easily visible. And her eyes were also entirely green without any white. And she was flying. Her hair was black though, as opposed to her mother’s fiery red.
“Sweety. Come here.” Kor’i reached up and grabbed the floating daughter. The girl immediately nuzzled into her and smiled victoriously. She got exactly what she wanted. Marinette couldn’t help but giggle.
“Tt. I still find her annoying.” Damian scowled.
“I don’t know, she looks cute to me. And you already admitted that you love cute things.” To make things worse for her love, Marinette gave him puppy eyes and a bright smile. He tried to scowl, but couldn’t muster enough strength to oppose his wife.
Dick almost tripped over the car when he started laughing.
Since they were the last to arrive, Marinette and Damian returned inside to join everyone for festivities.
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Somewhere else, in a much darker place, a lone figure stood in an empty room. His clothes were dirty and torn. The light entered only through a small window.
“So you see? It was all a set-up!” He shouted.
From the shadows, another figure joined.
“But of course, sweetie. Of course.” They said in a patronizing tone. “I will of course help you.”
“You understand me. And what about… Marinette?”
“I don’t understand your obsession with her, but I can share.”
“Whatever. She will be mine!”
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Masterlist // Next
#damienette#Damian Wayne#Damian al Ghul#marinette dupain cheng#marinette x damian#maribat#maridami#arranged marriage AU#guardian!marinette#batman#maribat au#evil!adrien
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Tag 10 people you’d like to get to know more about
@kaysars-fbi-hat tagged me a while ago but being very late and extra verbose is a part of my brand so here it is <3
what’s your favorite video game to play or watch?
i like playing the sims, animal crossing, and pokemon (i’m playing pokemon sword currently) but my favorite games by far are the binding of isaac and tetris because they put me in a flow state which is nice for just relaxing. i don’t really watch video games often but sometimes i’ll use the binding of isaac or pokemon videos as background noise when i’m doing other things.
is cereal a soup?
my college did a whole orientation week theme on the “is this a soup?" concept my second year and i wasn’t even personally involved besides watching the big show at the end of the week or whatever and i was still insanely annoyed by it so, to spite them, i will never consider cereal a soup even if good points are made (which i don’t think is possible in the first place).
if the US switched to metric system would you be upset?
yeah but only because fully switching over would cost way too much money and a slow transition would probably be extremely chaotic and even dangerous at this point. the metric system is way more practical in every way and makes more sense to me personally because i can actually do conversions in my head but i’m satisfied with the US using the metric system in certain fields while keeping everything else as it is. the government already wastes so much money on things like the military (with the highest spending in the world, totaling more than the 11 next highest countries’ spending combined) so i think the money spent switching would be more beneficially spent in other places like social programs or reparations or sustainable rural development or our crumbling infrastructure or fighting climate change. anything other than the military.
what is the most impactful thing someone has said to you? / what’s the best memory you have? (no matter how small)
i’m going to answer these two together because they’re from the same day. a few months before my dad died he brought me on a day trip to the boundary waters area because he worked in the woods doing forest inventory so we bonded over him teaching me all about different things in the woods. he had bought me a little book with information about the local trees in it for my birthday so we went around collecting leafs and pine needles and putting them in the book. he never got the opportunity to learn his native language because my family was affected by boarding schools and colonization in general i guess so i taught him the names of the various trees in the Ojibwe language which he was excited about. we also snuck into a museum and shared a single slice of pizza for lunch because neither of us had much money but it meant more to me than a big fancy day ever could and i never laughed so much in my life. at the end of the day he said “it was so nice seeing you smile and laugh again” and that is something someone who loves you unconditionally says so it made me feel lovable for the first time in many many years and helped me realize his addiction didn’t make him love me less, it was just a disease. it just helped me view my life and him differently.
i’m tagging @icancirieclearlynowthegameison @gheesling-dan @whoblewboobear @haleighshoh @hannahhchaddhaa @nicoleanthcny @twerking-down-the-highway @blanketingg @puppetmasterravenwalton @klutzysworld <3
#idk who has been tagged already or not so if you have im sorry and if you dont want to do it im also sorry#<3#bb23#ignore typos im tired
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Okay, strange question for Theron. I hat does he believe in. Beyond duty and doing things for the greater good.
That’s a good question! It’s going to get long, so some of this is beyond a cut.
Theron was raised as a Jedi until adolescence - his belief system is rooted in the existence of the Force. It exists in all living things, and some people can access and use it, while others cannot. The Jedi are the good guys. He was also raised as a citizen of the Republic. He believes in the Galactic Constitution, which bars slavery and grants all sentients certain rights. The Republic is a representative government with elections and enfranchised people choosing their leaders.
Duty and the Greater Good
“Duty” and "The Greater Good” concept have to be defined with Theron, because he is not a lawful character. He’s a neutral, leaning chaotic character in D&D terms. Lawful characters go by whatever society approves of; chaotic characters have their own internal compass. Neutral considers both. A great example of this is when Director Trant of SIS and Jace Malcom the Supreme Commander of Pub forces tell him to get the job done and basically ignore the fact that two planets full of people are going to be sacrificed to do it. Lawful characters do as the authority says.....and Theron decides to go rogue and disobey with a Jedi in order to at least save the second planet. His “greater good” is a lower death count, rather than guaranteed Republic victory. I would argue that Theron interprets his duty as belonging to a larger galaxy rather than exclusively the Republic and its political/military objectives; he is pro-Republic, no doubt about it, but there are limits. He’s also pro-Jedi, but there are limits -- some of them can be real asses. I discuss his alignment further here.
Going into Forged Alliances in SWTOR, we have a man who works for the Republic and endorses the ideals of the Galactic Constitution. He knows the Republic is not perfect. He does believe the Jedi are “right,” but he does have some issues with their attitudes toward non-Force users. They are not perfect. We get some very vehement statements in Annihilation about Theron’s experience with the Jedi after he was found not to be Force sensitive: the arrogance of the Jedi, how they looked down on non-Force users. He even applied this metric to Satele in their first real conversation with each other. I discuss this more here. This doesn’t make him anti-Jedi, but he doesn’t view them with the same rose-colored glasses he did as a youngling. Individuals aside, he follows the Light Side of the Force.
The Dark Side decisions that a Pub can make to please Theron in Forged Alliances/Shadow of Revan involve deceiving the Empire -- first, by destroying the Revanite cyborgs on Rakata Prime; second, by setting up perimeters around the Yavin base that track Imp movements just a little bit closer. The blowing up of cyborgs rather than fighting them is to prevent Lana and the Empire from scavenging them later. It’s not about killing them -- they as individuals are already dead. You have to kill them to get to the next room anyway. It’s just a matter of whether you give the Republic an edge by not permitting the Empire the opportunity. It’s a chess match. On Yavin, it’s about the Republic having more information than the Empire here as well. These aren’t traps or weapons that would hurt Imps -- it’s just about having more information. That is his duty to the Republic as an SIS agent while still supporting a cross-factional alliance to defeat a shared “Greater Bad.” So while dishonest and Dark Side and ‘anti-Jedi’, Theron still does things in support of a government that has the Galactic Constitution while doing no direct physical harm to the Sith Empire’s operatives (a rather Light Side-y solution).
What else does Theron believe in, besides all that?
Theron believes – most of all and with the most optimism -- in the future. We saw that at the end of Lost Suns. We see that when he chooses to save civilians on a planet he’s never met. We even see it in his Dark Side decisions in-game; he anticipates that the war will resume against the Empire, and he wants the Republic (and its Constitution) to have the best odds winning. I believe that Theron would rather have a rough life himself and save others in the future from the same work and suffering he’s gone through. Does he do it like a Jedi? Nope. He isn’t honest or honorable all the time, but he draws the line of sacrificing innocents or excessive for a cause. Does he do it like a traditional agent of the Republic, taking orders without question? Good Lord, no. Trant complains about that all the time in Lost Suns and Annihilation. Theron is Trant’s best agent, but half the time, Trant wants to throw him out a window or down a trash compactor because he doesn’t do things by the book.
I discuss in that alignment post how beat up Theron gets because he does things that are “right” in his mind, but not protocol. Theron fights for a brighter future. Based upon what he’s willing to do personally to ensure that happens, his life comes second to those yet to be born and a better galaxy for them. Call it Jedi virtue, call it a zealous belief in the Galactic Constitution -- Theron does it (and he meets his end that way in the Nathema Conspiracy, if the player chooses that path). This is also partially why he doesn’t have an SIS partner. Theron might be assigned to another agent, but he wants to do all the work himself, his own way. Trant has learned it is pointless to assign Theron a partner because the partner is left out and doesn’t even know when Theron gallivants off. His risk, his way.
So to be very specific, Theron believes in the future for others, not necessarily himself. Theron has a certain lack of selfishness paired with stubbornness that makes him put himself in danger because he believes there is some greater cause; he, the individual, doesn’t matter as much. We see this in other SIS agents -- they’d die in the line of duty without much of a second thought. I read about Lana’s early experience in the Talay initiative, and the SIS agents she encountered were particularly devout.
For Theron, that duty isn’t just to Republic or SIS -- it’s for the better future of the galaxy as well. We can also use this as part of an argument that suggests why Theron isn’t shown romantically involved with anyone unless he gets with the player. Theron thinks it would be nice if he survived to see this great future he wants for the galaxy and the Republic, but he understands he may not live to see it. That’s not fatalism or pessimism however. He knows what Jedi did during the Fall of Coruscant. He was always told by Ngani Zho that he was so loved by his mother that she had to give him up, so she wouldn’t have divided loyalties when it came to the good of the Republic. His personal happiness doesn’t rank very high here; it is virtuous and right for individuals to make choices that cost themselves something rather than others. Theron doesn’t like to be selfish.
During KotFE Theron leaves the Republic after they’ve accepted the political fiction that Saresh is out of office. Everyone knows she’s pulling the strings and promoting constant warfare against the Sith Empire, while bending the knee to Zakuul the entire time. They are oppressed, but she gets to have her little wars. Theron joins the Alliance because it is resisting an oppressive power that the Saresh doesn’t seem interested in throwing off and that the Empire can’t seem to throw off. In KotFE, you have Theron as a companion. He does NOT accept Republic memorabilia in order to raise influence -- I don’t think that’s an oversight, since Lana takes Imp memorabilia with enthusiasm. Theron believes in the Galactic Constitution and all of its principles – but the Republic is failing to do that right now by tolerating Zakuul and their systems of slavery. If you recruit Bowdaar, you do so by Fight Club or “Eternal Championship” or whatever, and it runs off slaves and people owned by others. This was what Theron worked against during his career in SIS prior to the whole Korriban thing….and now the Republic tolerates Zakuul’s use of it, as long as Saresh has her little wars with the Empire.
By KotFE, Theron no longer believes in his duty to the Republic, but in the Galactic Constitution. Now that the Jedi are gone, he doesn’t believe in them as much as the broader, greater good that the Republic never fully reached for due to its conflict with the Sith Empire.
This also brings us to the idea that Theron believes in the player. When all the things he valued in the Republic and SIS went to dust, he went to the Alliance, knowing that a key element was the rescue of the player from carbonite. Somehow, he thought this person – this key figure that he had worked with previously – would be able to head an Alliance that would save the galaxy one last time from the Sith Emperor.
With KotET, the player can decide whether they are a peacekeeper Alliance or a new Empire. Theron supports the player and doesn’t make any move to leave or go back to the Republic, regardless of the decision (a flaw in writing, in my personal opinion, but it is what it is). This is the game’s mechanic, but we may also interpret this as Theron’s belief in truth: we are what we say we are. A benevolent empire may not have elections, but it has a greater good in mind. The Republic claims to support all of these ideals in its constitution…but it doesn’t under Saresh. Even with a more brutal Eternal Empire, there is truth in advertising. We are doing this, that’s the way it is. We’re not hiding behind some Constitution that’s pushed to the wayside in favor of continued war with the Sith Empire. I know this is spinning the wheels hard to try to make it work, but Theron has to have rationale for staying, and it’s not provided in game. In Onslaught, we see a return of Theron’s temper; players who permitted high casualties on Corellia had Theron stomp out on them in anger. That is consistent with what we’ve seen previously, but the writing had made him somewhat of a sycophant to the player character for awhile; it was a good surprise for character development, bad if you were romancing Theron since you don’t get a smooch off him for that ending.
Now, if you go all Light Side for Theron, then it’s more easily explicable as to why he stays with the player – the Alliance does what the Republic will not, and he rather be in a place that does what the Republic should be doing, rather than be in a Republic that’s all talk and no action. He’s happy to return home to the Republic, if you make that choice in Onslaught. He’s also accepting of remaining independent. He only expresses concern with an Imperial alliance because he doesn’t want his home ground to dust....and all the people in it. All those little individual futures that we as Alliance commander can control -- and if we’re working to make them better, that coincides with Theron’s own beliefs.
Does Theron Shan believe in love?
The virtue of love, in the sense that one cares for the good of others and the galaxy, is approved of by Jedi. The idea of having someone, of bonding to someone and wanting to maintain that relationship – and the associated fear of losing that relationship – can lead to the Dark Side. Now, Theron may not buy into that as much as he did when he was a kid, but it might stick in the back of his mind, since unless the player romances him, he remains single. He’s also devoted to his ideals and his work, his duties. He’s a self-admitted workaholic -- that sort of kicks romance and personal love down the ladder of priorities.
On the other hand, Theron hasn’t been treated well by ��love.’ Ngani Zho loved him… and left him without telling him the truth. Zho also told Theron all the time that his mother Satele loved him so much that she had to give him up….and we have yet to see her ever admit that to him, face-to-face. We can argue that the latest patch, Echoes of Oblivion, points toward that happening, but even then, she only indicates that to player, not to Theron himself. We saw Jace Malcom’s rejected paternal overtures in Annihilation and then alienation from Theron during Iokath. Player choices decide whether that relationship is recoverable or not.
In an unromanced game, Theron is alone, but not necessarily lonely. We can view this as sort of a holdover from his Jedi youth and as his adult life as a spy – love is a good thing in the galaxy but attachment is not, given the risks he takes. There is no suggestion that he’s romantically involved with another NPC, unlike other games or even the Lana/Koth thing -- which is ultimately left up to player interpretation as to what exactly that was.
This next bit is more subjective, because it’s how I’ve interpreted the Theron romance to this point on neutral/Light-leaning characters, specifically a smuggler. I think prior to the playable character, Theron believes in love, but once again, not for him personally. If the player romances him, it’s a whole different bantha wrangle.
Love is difficult. Being mutually attached is difficult for Theron, because most normal people want a certain back-and-forth, a certain amount of information sharing before they really commit. Theron can’t give as much as they can. Hook-ups are physically satisfying, but emotionally lacking.
I know some authors have him as a someone who slept around a lot, while others have him as a serial monogamist. Many just don’t discuss the idea of him being with anyone else besides their playable character. I’ve written him as someone who can get hook-ups, can do a relationship or two seriously, but also has long spats of celibacy mixed in because he’s busy working. The greater good isn’t going to happen by itself, so Theron works at the cost of his personal relationships. Because of being a spy and the issue of his parentage, he can’t disclose his work routine or why he’s come back with a new scar – it’s easier to let the relationship fall to the wayside than explain. Where are his parents? Who are his parents? Easier to let the relationship go than explain.
Theron is a consummate professional. Even in the era of KotFE/KotET, Miot and Koth refer to him as ‘stiff’ or ‘stuffy’ and not knowing when to “not work.” His duties come before his personal desires. This is why we have to get through all of Rishi before we even get to kiss Theron, plus another few weeks/months on Yavin before they playable character and Theron hook up. However, if we take a look at the player’s path from Korriban or Manaan (Pub and Imp side encounters with Theron), it’s a courtship over the course of a half-year or more. There are a lot of headcanon explanations for this, ranging from playable character inexperience, demisexuality, “behind the scenes” action that emphatically states that they were hooking up long before we saw them, and so on.
I took what I saw on screen to be a signal of Theron’s professionalism -- no time for lovin’ until the job is done -- but also his attachment issues. I’ll do another post on this later, but I’m writing him with the label “fearful avoidant attachment” in mind. Basically, Theron wants to be attached to someone, desperately, but he is terrified of it. I don’t blame Satele for this one – this is all about Theron not only being ditched by Ngani Zho, but also then being dismissed from the Jedi Order because he wasn’t even Force sensitive to begin with. Suddenly, the father he knew and the way of life he thought he was going to follow til the day he died – gone. Now he has to integrate with ‘normal people life’ where you’re supposed to do the personal life attachment stuff that Jedi frowned upon. In my fan fic, Theron confesses that SIS and his duty to the Republic – more accurately, to the future – take the place of the Jedi order. He attaches himself to that more readily than individuals.
The playable character changes Theron; he says that in his “I’m back at SIS” letter. He’s more open to teamwork and reaching out to Satele. Again, fans have run with this, including having Theron in a relationship with the player until the Eternal Fleet incident, having them just hook-up and leave it at that (particularly if Imperial), or something in between. Ziost marks a time where Theron is both relieved and embarrassed the player is there to catch him when he falls. The last we see of Theron in-game Pubside prior to Popsicle Time, he says he won’t hesitate to reach out (unlike what he did this time).
Then we get the “For When You Wake Up” letter. It reveals that Theron is in love, whether or not he wants to openly acknowledge it yet. He doesn’t send a letter to an unromanced player stating that the fact they’re still alive is “the thing that keeps [him] going.” And he’s also worried, nervous, or even scared that the feelings are not mutual -- “I don’t want to presume.”
The Theron romance starts in KotFE the night of his arrival. The kiss can be a tentative “let’s try this,” and then dating starts. I took it as “let’s go back to my place” and a full-blown committed relationship starts between Theron and my smuggler. There are other interpretation in between. Any way a person shakes it, Theron had been holding on to his Yavin hook-up for five years in his heart. Based upon letters you get throughout these two expansion pacs, Theron still has workaholic tendencies. He still struggles with the writing of words and expressing love publicly – but he is attached, and painfully so, as we see in Chapter 12, when the player goes on an impromptu camping trip with Marr and Satele. In my interpretation of all of that, love is still difficult – but not because of the reasons Theron had prior to Eternal Fleet, when he was fully committed to SIS and the Republic. It’s because in order to save the galaxy from the Sith Emperor, the player may have to be sacrificed for the greater good. Theron can’t step into their shoes on this one; he can’t take their place.
After the main KotET chapters, we see the Traitor arc and all of its flaws – but also the consistency of Theron’s character, if we remember how he believes in a better future, even if he doesn’t get to live to see it. That does include potentially sacrificing his romantic relationship with the player and possibly his life as well. If the player chooses to kick Theron out of the Alliance, the question of where he goes next is valid – he won’t go back to the Republic, and he’s not an Imperial. Where is Theron Shan, in those player universes?
If Theron (and his romance) survives to Echoes of Oblivion, we see a letter that is downright gleefully sweet. His mother isn’t dead, and it’s because of you that he has a chance to try to make something of that relationship…again. I’ve expressed my skepticism about this, since this is the exact set-up we had prior to Eternal Fleet, and then Satele ghosted Theron. We’ll see; I may be a bit of a cynic or an angstmonger. The point is, the way the romance is written to this point, Theron is happily in love with his partner/spouse. Love is for him, after all.
Even without the romance, a living Theron in the Alliance (or whatever it is now) in Echoes of Oblivion is one that has attachments to friends and potentially family again. There is a future -- and he’s in it. That may have been more than what Theron was anticipating when we first met him at 23, nearly 17(!) years ago.
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Love, Men, Women, and LGBTQ+ Life in Egypt
August 13, 2021 اغسطس ١٣
A good friend posed the question to me this week of asking “Where are you local?” Instead of “Where are you from?” I might even tweak that slightly to “Where do you feel at home?” For most of us, and in fact for most other places I’ve lived, the equation is a simple line graph. More time, more familiarity, more comfort, more feeling like home. I’m challenged here, at the end of my second summer in Egypt, with a different calculus.
The more I speak with my friends and teachers in their “heart language” of Arabic, the more I see how deep the generosity, sociability, and collective spirit run. Not all my friends are Muslim, but I see these traits represented in the 5 Pillars of Islam beautifully, and I’ve been told so in many different ways.
That’s the part that feels more like home. But of course, if it was all sunshine this would be a different story. This is not a happy post. I don’t have any female friends here who are truly, uncomplicatedly happy. I don’t have any queer friends here who are truly, uncomplicatedly happy.
Of course that doesn’t mean there are no happy females in Egypt; my internationally minded, English speaking group isn’t representative, I know, and I’ve had many conversations with more conservative teachers and friends about the contentment that can come from living inside a more rigid structure.
But…I don’t know everyone in Egypt. I just know my friends. And many of them are desperately, painfully unhappy, stressed, in ways that I understand more fully the longer I’m here. I think “right and wrong” or “good and bad” are wildly unhelpful terms, so when I’m trying to understand how I feel about these societal norms and systems, the right to happiness of my friends is my bellwether. Systems that make more people happier without hurting others are ones I want to support, period, which also means my anecdotal circle can’t be my only data points. I’m a little nervous where those conclusions might lead me, dancing around big questions of class and culture and religion, but more nervous not to draw a line in the sand with the best metric I know and explore from there.
Apparently sexual harassment has decreased a bit since the government put some teeth into a new anti-harassment law a couple years ago and they made an example of a few offenders. That’s nice. The street -especially at night- still does NOT feel like a safe or friendly place, and I just get tiny glimpses of that walking near female friends. Life is lived in the streets here, the pedestrian density like Times Square, always, so the sheer volume of people quickly makes crowd thoughts and judgement evident. Sitting with a female friend at anything but a super upscale cafe, I see the glances and catch bits of the conversation as they pass judgement on her for hanging out with me. What a wild thought, that any conversation I have with an Egyptian women starts with the brave act of her choosing to engage at all, know the subtle pressures that will start in from all sides. One of my friends who wears a hijab told me that when she went to Cairo, she brought extra wide clothes to walk the streets with, and it didn’t matter. She got just as many comments as when she was back in tights clothes.
Who gets the blame? Young men have so few opportunities to interact with young women outside immediate circles, period, but are still somehow supposed to meet a potential bride and move her into the new house that he’ll buy with cash savings from the extended family? Old black and white Egyptian movies show women in skirts and t-shirts, and Egyptian music videos show Western dressed Egyptian women gyrating, but aside from a few pockets of wealth and international society in Alexandria, those images of women don’t exist in the real world here. Men are allowed and encouraged to date casually, but women are called sluts for kissing someone who may not be an eventual husband. Women are supposed to protect their virginity, while men want to fool around with lots of women but settle down with a virgin bride. The math doesn’t work. My heart goes out to the working class men in an impossible, frustrating position, society and politics conspiring against biology, but while they have to worry about their reputation, women here worry about reputation AND safety, always.
And LGBTQ+? First of all, it’s just so difficult to have intimate relations here -every lives with family, you can’t be intimate until you’re married, you can’t be married until you own a house, you can be arrested in public spaces for PDA, and no one will rent rooms to an unmarried couple-. That means there is a SIGNIFICANT percentage of the men here who sleep with other men, feel shame, would never consider themselves gay, and would only consent to being a “top.” Honestly, it reminds me of what I know of the sexual politics in prison culture, except no one’s in a physical prison here.
Sexual health is also a huge challenge; access to STI testing apart from HIV is impossible for unmarried women and hugely expensive for men. Someone in my circle here had complications from a “Plan B” pill and wasn’t able to go to a gynecologist as an unmarried woman. Someone else was hospitalized for an unrelated illness, and jubilant that as part of the hospital stay, insurance would cover the full battery of STI screening before surgery, the first time in a very active sexual life they’d ever had that. Someone else just lost a friend to HIV; they told the family it was cancer, but were too ashamed to seek the HIV treatment pills, and died in a few months.
Mental health has its own obstacles. Someone I know was told by a licensed therapist they were going to hell if they kept sleeping with men, unmarried. I heard that from women and queer friends as well. How do you establish a relationship of trust in the first place if licensed practitioners in the country are able to say things like that in the privacy of their sessions without consequences?
So, full circle to the beginning of the post. “Where do you feel local?” or “Where do you feel at home?”
I feel infinitely more familiar and comfortable here than my first few weeks, no denying that. 95% of the time I can make myself understood in daily life (very different than understanding 95% of what’s being said to ME in daily life, but progress). I can call businesses here to ask questions. I can tell meandering stories. I can cross the comically busy and chaotic streets without an adrenaline spike. I run into friends on the street most days, and my last 100 meters from my neighborhood entrance to apartment involves a dozen different greetings and little conversations. I have my favorite….everything; food carts, Syrian sweets, juice shops, rotisseries, beaches, bars, cafes, and a good rapport with the folks working there. I have a lot of lovely but more surface level relationships, and a few real and intimate friendships. All that DOES feel local, does feel like home.
If feeling local or at home here means giving any kind of tacit acceptance to the norms that make my friends so unhappy, though, I don’t want to claim the label. I also don’t feel like I have any right or power as an outsider to do much more than listen, affirm, connect to resources when I can. I left China after staying in Xinjiang province and seeing the government’s cultural genocide of Uighur society, and I haven’t been back since. (You can read my writings at the time with the link here) What’s my path here in Egypt? Love the player, hate the game? Can I come back next summer and complete my 6 months of study plan, knowing I float through a golden bubble of American male protection I can’t extend to my friends here? I really don’t know yet. No wise or pithy ending sentence here. Just a lot of hurt, a mixed bag of emotions, and a whole lot of people who deserve uncomplicated love and happiness.
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I love how Swiss staff in the hotel uses kilometres instead of miles and Dick's memories from his circus times ❤️. I'm sorry if I sound patronising because that's the last thing I want but so many American authors while writing there stories in Europe ignores that they use metric system or write that something in a centre of the city is "only a few blocks away" while there are no blocks in those cities. Like look at the map of Rome, Krakow, London or Brussels - good luck finding blocks there, those cities weren't planned like American ones but rather expanded chaotically as the time went by so using block system is absolutely pointless.
Pardon me for my mini rant.
Keep on writing, your stories are amazing!
Aw thanks! 💕💕 Yeah I try to keep in mind the locations I’m at and when in Europe, you don’t use miles!! And language cues too. Since none of the batboys are British, no one really notices but I like to use the British spelling of words for characters from Britain when I can. (Colour vs color) (Watch me screw it up next time.😂) it makes me feel like I can hear them. But thanks for noticing the details. That’s super awesome 😊
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I've taken a bunch of self-reporting Autism Spectrum tests and I always come out borderline (like, just under whatever the threshhold is, or just under half of a list of items) but I'm really starting to wonder... (detailed thoughts under the cut).
I guess really the most practical thing to do about it is continue to lurk in autistic spaces and maybe see if their tips for alleviating masking stress/communicating with others are useful to me? Idk I just really felt like a space alien who does not know how to human at work this week, and it's starting to get to me.
One of my autistic friends has said that the way I think makes sense to her, which means I must be non-neurotypical, because she doesn't get how neurotypicals think. It's possible that I'm just open-minded and empathetic towards others, and that reads as non-neurotypical to autistic people because they're used to hostility or confusion from neurotypical people. My therapist told me a story about a straight female friend of hers who kept getting hit on by wlw, and when she finally asked why she was pinging everyone's gaydar, someone explained that this straight person wasn't homophobic /at all/ and that was so rare in straight people, in their experience, that they'd assumed it meant the person was queer. So like. It could just be that. But this year I feel like I've accumulated a lot of little hints that maybe it's more than just the bare minimum of drinking my respect autists juice?
There seem to be a lot of triggers in common between 'what makes me anxious' and 'what triggers autistic burnout', as well as symptom overlap. I find descriptions of what happens when you stop masking (in terms of emotional/social consequences and anxiety about that), or what masking looks/feels like, uncomfortably relatable. I once got really excited talking about something I love with a stranger at a party, and they were really supportive and nice about it and in fact were like 'wow you're so genuine and interesting, I never have conversations like this with strangers' and on the way home and at home afterwards I felt so anxious about having someone see me unfiltered- and recognize that I was unfiltered, and point out that I wasn't following a normal social script- that I had anxiety nausea afterwards thinking about it. The experience was completely positive in the moment, and the feedback about it was totally positive, but being *seen* and *called out* like that really shook me afterwards in a way that I found very difficult to understand. But it sounds *a lot* like what happens if you're afraid someone's caught you being your real self when you are normally always masking.
Another thing that seems masking-related is that I'm really good at cover letters (and explaining how to write them to both my neurotypical and autistic friends) because I have developed a script for them and know what they are supposed to accomplish and why. I've had people tell me after an interview that I wasn't actually qualified for the job, but they brought me in because they liked my cover letter so much. Which like... what. Who does that? And friends who adopt my cover letter formula have gotten more interviews afterwards. I'm also suspiciously good at writing to a set structure and aping a set style, once I can see an example to imitate, which tells me that I'm pretty analytical and have a vested interest in mimicry.
I've had employers tell me that I picked up on the house writing style and content rules much quicker than other people in my role, and my creative hobbies tend to involve parodies and riffing on other people's ideas (filk music) or surrealist or part-to-whole juxtaposition (collage, mosaic). In both cases I'm kind of jamming existing structures and ideas together to make something new, that has direct and inescapable relations to what it came from, but is also internally coherent. But the fact that I need referents for both content and structure, and that exploring part-to-whole relationships is incredibly key to my creative experiences, suggests that on some level my creative practice is 'arranging things I like in an idiosyncratic, complex, and pleasing way', which also seems somewhat characteristically autistic?
I have also always felt like my friends 'rub off on me' and that I absorb their beliefs/mannerisms/skills etc. I feel like I can't control the fact that I'm porous at all, but I can control what I absorb insofar as I pick who I hang out with pretty carefully and with an eye to self-improvement. That could have other explanations than 'I'm conciously or unconciously imitating people who seem to have their shit together', but it seems like part of a pattern when I put it with all of the other things.
Also in my professional life the stuff I get told I need to work on and the stuff I'm good at seem to be autistic-coded things. I tend towards systems thinking (good and bad, I can grasp complex systems, but can't always turn it off and I feel like people call out that I always want to put stuff in context.) I need a lot of preliminary information about a task before I can do it, but I'm also pretty reluctant to get that preliminary information if it involves actually talking to someone else, especially someone I don't interact with regularly. I tend to assume I have the information I need about their motivation up front, and it's just the technical details that I might need to follow up on, when often it turns out I was misled about what they wanted. That's either because I wasn't aware of something about their context (and didn't think to ask), or because they used a technical term that is very meaningful and specific for me, so I assumed they knew what they were talking about, but it actually means something totally different to them and maybe wasn't the correct term for what they really wanted.
I also want to stick to past precedent/established routine/previously used patterns and formulas in a professional context so strongly that I've been chided for my lack of flexibility when new situations come up a couple of times at my current job, although in my super-chaotic toxic former workplace it was a huge asset, because it was my job to develop the standards and make people stick to them and not use 3 different formulas 3 different times to calculate the same metric. I have tendency to infodump on technical stuff that sometimes gets me in trouble, because I feel like I'm providing all of the info needed to explain and contextualize my decision, but it sometimes comes off as overexplaining, which can make you sound less confident/authoritative, or it can just confuse people because all they really need is your decision. It's especially bad in person or if I'm writing a response fast and don't have a chance to edit for that specific audience (or I misjudge what my audience is).
One thing that gives me pause on any kind of self-diagnosis (beside the fact that it seems you have to be traumatized to really fit any of the formal diagnostic criteria fully, which is horrifying and sad) is that I've never had much of the sensory stuff as far as I can tell, and most autistic people I know do tend to have unequivocal sensory neurodivergence. I do really like textures, tend to talk with my hands, and am usually unconsciously jiggling my legs when left to my own devices, and my anxiety results in nausea, but that's about it for sensory stuff.
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aaaaaaa okay im def doing this jflkajfdkslf aight je suis une chaotic gremlin child, 157cm??? i think that's like 5'1 idk the american metric system is weird jsadlfjsdklfj uh curly black hair but like in the worst haircut ever bc i'm a dumbass who shouldn't be allowed to have scissors,,,,,, ANYWAYS i enjoy reading trashy fantasy ya books with the ~occasional memoir or historical romance in my free time, or projecting rlly goddamn hard by writing angst or like tragic character studies or whatever
— lol, ✨ complicated relationship with my family ✨ but i would throw hands for my frens however few sskdjfjdnfd and yup i literally have no clue what my sexuality is but i'm going with straight for now hahaflsjbfkd
i ship you with kol mikaelson!!! and for reasons threefold:
both of you are children of the chaos
both from ✨complicated families✨
both of you wake up every day and choose violence
lol that aside, i think your personalities would go together nicely, both of you are chaotic in the best way, absolutely adorable and very loving to the few people you actually care about. a strange headcanon: kol makes you your very own dagger (hidden blacksmith skills that he picked up at some point in the past millennium?) with a neat little sheath and everything so you can live out your wildest ya fantasy novel dreams ✨
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could you elaborate on the long term plot of greater boston? i don't mind spoilers! i tried it but couldn't get past the first episode :( but i trust your taste and i've liked every other show you've rec'd so i wanna keep listening
EDIT: okay for some reason the formatting of this post is EXTREMELY befuckened and I can’t get it to behave, so it’s possible that this isn’t going to display with a spoiler cut and if so I am VERY sorry. the “keep reading” break is in the ask instead of the body of the post I have no idea what’s happening right now but if you don’t want spoilers please be aware this post spoils like everything about the show
Sure thing! I will .... do my best, but because of the nature of GB’s plot it’s a bit difficult to describe it without ending up either way too detailed or way too vague. But I will absolutely do my best because if there is any show out there that deserves it, this is that show. Cut for Obvious Spoiler Reasons!
So, there’s a LOT of plot that goes on, but what a plot summary could never convey is that the real heart and soul of this show is the characters. There are a metric fuckton of them, and every one of them is multidimensional and dynamic and wonderful, even if it’s not always obvious at first.
Leon Stamatis of course starts the show by abruptly dying of Existential Crisis/Panic Attack on a roller coaster, which sets everything else in motion. Of that big ensemble cast, at first the most important players are
Nica, Leon’s little sister who wants to be famous but doesn’t really have any concrete plans as to how
Dimitri, Leon’s little brother who is currently traveling in a submarine attempting to find Atlantis and keeps sending Leon letters, unaware that he’s dead
Louisa, Leon’s recent ex, a wedding photographer who later quits and becomes a crime scene photographer slash detective
Leon’s best friend/roommate Michael, who is unemployed and has just had a relapse after being sober for 12 years because he has no idea what to do without Leon
Gemma, a lesbian who absolutely hates her job as an editor at Third Sight, a company which publishes magazines relating to astrology/psychic stuff/divination/etc
Charlotte, Gemma’s pregnant wife, who has recently lost her job as an animation background artist and is feeling directionless
Professor Paul Montgomery Chelmsworth, aka the Mayor of the Red Line, a slightly eccentric college professor and casual friend of Leon’s who is inspired by his death to call for a referendum declaring that the Red Line of the Boston subway system will become an independent city.
It’s that last one that is the real ~main plot~ of the show: at first, more and more of the characters getting caught up in the campaign to create the city of Red Line, and then the chaos that results when they succeed and actually have to run it. But you also have characters like Louisa and Nica and Michael, dealing with a whole rainbow of grief and distress as they cope with Leon’s death. His eccentric personality is the other driving force of the show’s events -- Leon was caring and compassionate, but also obsessed with timetables, organization, and scheduling every action in his life down to the minute.
The other major force in the show is Third Sight, a magazine publisher with a focus on fortunetelling and the like; Michael ends up working there, along with Gemma and several other major characters. Third Sight also has an enigmatic boss no one has ever seen, who turns out to be a manipulative little bastard named Oliver West.
While Red Line successfully becomes a city, “Mayor” Chelmsworth turns out to have some major commitment issues and vanishes as soon as the vote passes, leaving Charlotte and Gemma to clean up the mess. Charlotte ends up interim mayor, but also begins to campaign for the upcoming mayoral election, in which she has two opponents: Isabelle Powell, a Black realtor and an incredible character whom I absolutely cannot do justice here, and Emily Bespin, Literally The Worst Person Who Has Ever Existed, Holy Fuck I Hate Her So Much.
The election is being manipulated behind the scenes by Oliver West, who also takes advantage of Nica’s isolation and a near mental breakdown to convince her to help him by orchestrating several escalating ~pranks~ in Red Line. Honestly he’s manipulating literally everyone, and also heavily backing Emily Bespin, in an attempt to profit off of influence in the new city. Eventually this ends up with Michael kidnapped and imprisoned, several other characters attacked and one badly hurt during a wedding in Red Line, and Isabelle Powell’s nephew framed for the attack. That results in Powell’s supporters beginning a set of protests which throw Red Line into even further chaos, even as Charlotte and Nica begin to have some real moral epiphanies about how they’ve been acting.
As events continue to escalate and the election draws closer and closer, the now-assembled cast have to figure out just who exactly is manipulating events and how -- not to mention how to prove Powell’s nephew’s innocence, what the hell has happened to Michael, and what the hell they’re going to do if Bespin wins the election and makes good on her promise to evict everyone involved in the protests.
Meanwhile, Dimitri is traumatized by finding a mass grave at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean, gets rescued and then imprisoned in Alaska by infamous vanished plane hijacker DB Cooper, finally makes it home to Boston disillusioned and lonely only to inevitably find out his brother has been dead for two years, and then gets totally rejected by his sister, because he basically can’t catch a break.
Also meanwhile, the same conflicts playing out in Red Line play out on a more metaphysical level, in the structure of the show itself. While the first season only hints at the possibility that Leon might not be quite as gone as everyone thinks, as the show progresses Leon’s ghost makes his presence known by starting to argue with the omniscient narration. Increasingly taking over the show’s narration until a brilliant scene where said narrator quits and audibly gets up from the microphone and leaves, Leon, the man who spent his whole life trying to impose order on the chaos of the universe around him, finds himself battling the very structure of the story they’re in, in an attempt to help his friends as both he and they are caught up in the chaos of Red Line and Oliver West’s plans. Unfortunately, the structure of the story has other ideas, and plans of its own.
None of this, of course, even begins to touch on the cheese robots; or Michael’s ongoing struggle with self-actualization and alcoholism; or Mallory the foulmouthed teenager who somehow manages to first witness and then be involved in nearly every major plot event of the show; or the in-depth examination of structural racism as it relates to things like housing and city planning and Boston’s history and well-intentioned white liberals and the imprisonment of Black youth; or Star Trek obsessed chaotic neutral gay reporter Chuck Octagon and that one time he flirted with his own mirror universe self; or the complex but beautiful process of Charlotte and Gemma working on their relationship in the midst of all this chaos because while they have troubles throughout they truly love one another and are trying to be better people; or the fact that one of the other major characters is an insufferable Loud Vegan member of a polyamorous commune who -- on the advice of his ~spirit advisor~ the ghost of 19th century feminist writer Mary Wollstonecraft keeps changing his name throughout the show to things including Earthman, Panda Bear, Extinction Event, and Dipshit; or the unfortunately real Olive Garden food truck; or the laughter and the tears and the flamethrowers and the fact that one of the show’s most important and heartbreaking conversations takes place on an amusement park log flume ride audibly filled with liquid nacho cheese.
It’s a good show, is what I’m saying, basically.
#the podcast that never returned#more like THE SUMMARY THAT NEVER ENDED#I have no idea whether this is useful my apologies#Anonymous#asks#my posts
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Rules: answer 17 questions and tag 17 people you’d like to know better!
Tagged by: @fitcherslane My first tag!! Thank! <3
Nickname: Babu, Bára (Bah-rah), Barča (Bar-chah), Barbie, all with roling rs. But since I moved to the UK I go by Anna (my second name) cuz I don't like the English pronunciation of my name lmao.
Zodiac: Libra
Height: 5′4"
Hogwarts House: I think Pottermore sorted me to Ravenclaw.
Last thing I googled: "how tall is 164cm in ft" because I'm from Europe and have no idea how non-metric measuring systems work lol
Song in my head: Toss a Coin To Your Witcher, Take Me Home, Country Roads, Radioactive, The Willow Maid...
Followers and following: Following - 10 Followers - 47. I made this Tumblr not even two weeks ago and I certainly did NOT expect it to blow up so much. I made it with the intention to have a Fallout sideblog and avoid spamming my mutuals on my main with Fallout content I kept rebloging. You can't imagine my surprise when I woke up one day to find one of my shitposts reaching 300+ notes over night dhdbdbdkwkaod
Amount of sleep: Since quarantine began my sleep schedule is fucked my dudes. I'd say daily I get between 4 - 10 hours.
Lucky number: 9
Dream job: Tattooist
Wearing: Still in my pjs. Very fluffy pjs with Lady from Lady and Tramp printed all over.
Fave songs: All the songs that are stuck in my head from the previous question, plus pretty much every Green Day song. Birds by Imagine Dragons, Sky Full of Stars by Coldplay, Close Your Eyes - Michael Bublé, 10,000 Enemies from Netflix's Watership Down, iRobot by Jon Bellion and more
Instruments: I used to play the piano from the age 8 - 12.
Random fact: my hair as of now is over a meter long, reaches over my bottom and is about ⅔ of my height
Favorite Authors: Cressida Cowel. Love this lady's style of writing, always makes me laugh my ass off. Also Richard Adams, his Plague Dogs and Watership Down will always be my favourites.
Fave animal sounds: Can I say dinosaurs. That chirpy sound cats make when they come for scritches. Makes my heart burst with love. And thestrals
Aesthetic: Uuuhh...never thought of this until now lol. Chaotic, very chaotic and loud. Memelord. A cryptid that only comes out of her room past 10pm cuz I'm too anxious to leave earlier. Gamer gurl but I'm like, the messy hair/darkness loving/junk food eating/I-have-been-playing-this-game-for-sixteen-hours-straight-oh-god-Im-in-so-much-pain-is-that-a-sunrise-or-a-sunset kind of gamer gurl.
Tagging: Anyone who wants to do this! Because I don't know seventeen people to tag. Also @deaconsbeacon @ghoulfocker @shitty-fallout-art
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PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE: THE SHEPHERD
Ah, Mr. Amos. The Starwatcher. The Shepherd. The Survivor. There are many names that my massive friend has taken over the years, but the only one he seems to consciously retain is “Amos”. Any attempts at a first or even middle name have been met with failure, and it has been confirmed that Canadian Mountain Giants do not even adhere to a typical giant nomenclature or tribal structure; that is to say, Amos is not his clan’s name, and Mr. Amos’s refusal or inability to divulge any more information than he has already given us makes finding records of him or his tribe next to impossible, unless one of you schleps feels like hiking through the Canadian wilderness. I’ll leave the moose fighting to the RCMP, thank you very much.
I am told by Mr. Amos that remark could be construed as offensive and inaccurate to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. Yet, if they do not FIGHT the moose, how do they mount it?
I am being told now that they do not ride moose.
My apologies. It seems that even they have enough sense not to pick a fight with those massive death machines.
One of these days I must have a word with Epimetheus.
Regardless of the hellish landscape my massive friend is from, he IS a dear friend of mine, and the only one amongst our company who surpasses me in age. His wisdom shows, though his age does not. He is pleasant company, if a bit quiet and reserved at times. I sometimes worry he only interacts with me out of fear of angering my patron god Apollo again -- we shall get to that part soon.
Anyhow, I suppose we should get this underway. Once again the lovely Doctor [REDACTED] has deemed herself fit to evaluate Mr. Amos’s mental state. Even though nobody asked, I’m starting to think that these psychological evaluations are just excuses to try and assign labels to that which is inherently unique. Classifying that which cannot be classified. Which of you scientists has lived for over 2000 years? Nobody? That’s what I thought.
NAME: Amos
ALIASES: Mr. Amos, Goliath, The Shepherd, The Slaughterer, The Survivor
AGE: Approximately 4,500 years old, by his own estimation
HEIGHT: 20 Meters (non-suppressed), 3 Meters (suppressed)
Note: Mr. Amos requested we use the metric system because, and I quote, “America needs to get with the times” and “Citizens of other countries might read this”. Mr. Amos is wrong on both accounts, but nonetheless I have accommodated his ridiculous request, if only because I remember what it was like to not be beholden to America’s rules. For any of you Americans scrolling through this (I’m assuming that would be all of you), his respective heights are 65 feet when not wearing his suppression amulet and 9 feet when wearing the suppression amulet. Approximately. I promise you I tried every method under the sun to get the man under 9 feet but it is impossible.
WEIGHT: 9071 Kilograms/20,000 pounds (non-suppressed), 1,360 Kilograms/3,000 pounds (suppressed)
Again, I tried every method under the sun to make this giant hunk of muscle be able to walk around without leaving craters everywhere, and 3,000 pounds seems to be the best I can get. Gods watch over you if you get in-between this man and his protein.
SPECIES: Giant/Goliath (SUBSPECIES: Canadian Mountain Giant)
NOTABLE ABILITIES:
Gods above, what CAN’T he do?
Apologies, but one cannot help but be in awe of the giant known as Amos.
For starters, with the assistance of an amulet I made specifically for him (you know, because I’m a savant), Mr. Amos can solve the problem of not being small enough for human interaction by shrinking considerably, reducing his overall mass. Your human law of conservation says this is impossible, but Apollo and Thoth spit in the face of your Einstein.
Even while in his shrunken form, Mr. Amos is proportionately strong for a man of his size. Further testing over the years has shown Mr. Amos actually retains his strength of his non-suppressed form at 100% efficiency, and his strength is actually so great that we as weaklings are incapable of differentiating between his different levels.
On a side note, have I mentioned how beautiful this man is?
No, really. This is INCREDIBLY important. When you think of a giant, a certain image comes to mind, right? Some gnarled, ugly, unwashed heap of muscles and meat who doesn’t even know what a loincloth is.
Unfortunately for my poor little heart, Mr. Amos’s species seems to have properties similar to only one other known creature: the fucking succubus. Which is just fantastic, because one of my comrades is a succubus.
This means that Mr. Amos, as well as Mr. di Carina, constantly make subtle changes to their appearance with every passing second to appear more and more beautiful, and constantly release pheromones designed to make sentient creatures of ANY gender attracted to them. This means that, somehow, if Mr. di Carina is ever rendered out of action, the fucking GIANT is our next option for seducing someone. Terrific.
A notable distinction is that succubi surpass expectations of gender; for instance, Mr. di Carina is constantly adjusting to standards of beauty, appearing male to some, and female to others, and retaining an all around feminine appearance in spite of it all. However in all known instances, Mr. Amos has only ever appeared to fit the observers ideal of an attractive male.
I feel guilty for objectifying Mr. Amos, despite how many times he has assured me it is perfectly fine. Gods grant me the strength to continue.
Mr. Amos is capable of traversing massive bodies of water and land in little to no time. The strain on his body appears to be nonexistent, though with his appetite it would be unable to tell if his body is expending more energy than is the norm.
As befitting a giant, Mr. Amos has a ridiculously high pain threshold. Many have compared the man to the fictional character “The Juggernaut”, and indeed it would be a comprehensive comparison if not for Mr. Amos’s weaknesses.
NOTABLE WEAKNESSES:
As mentioned before, Mr. Amos has been compared to the fictional Juggernaut of Marvel series fame. However, if the Juggernaut is an unstoppable force like a freight train, then Mr. Amos is more of a... unstoppable Sherman. He has traded Mr. Juggernaut’s weakness to psychic powers and a binding contract to a deity for moving about as fast as a turtle.
I should clarify. Mr. Amos is not slow by any means, but the mere power in his steps and his dense body means that gravity is constantly weighing down on him, and were he to pick up speed, the already massive craters he calls footsteps would eventually dig through to the Earth’s core and he would all die. Mr. Amos moves deliberately and once he reaches his target, they will be decimated. However, this makes hit and run tactics very disadvantageous, and instead makes Mr. Amos a useful front line combatant and siege unit; I wish that we had been able to make use of Mr. Amos’s abilities when fighting in the Somme.
As mentioned before, as the biggest member of Project: Nero, Mr. Amos requires a massive amount of sustenance. I have seen 90 nobles of the most wasteful houses go through less food in a week-long feast than Mr. Amos does. Apparently this insatiable appetite does not disturb the ration officers; I saw one of them reading a book by some Welsh author about giants and such and the ‘why’ became clear.
Due to his inability to be stopped combined with his high maintenance, we are currently only really able to bring Mr. Amos’s giant form out as an ultimate trump card... and because the chaos caused would not be able to hide our existence to the world anymore. The government only authorizes the transformation if they don’t want any survivors or witnesses.
Subsequently, this treatment of Mr. Amos as an emergency-only monster, deemed to chaotic compared to the likes of even Mr. Takahashi have lead to some... harsh treatment of Mr. Amos by the human outliers of the science team. It has not been good for Mr. Amos’s self-esteem and were it not for the fact that I have no real authority and we must meet a human quota, I would order these hateful beasts to be executed painfully and without mercy.
As of recently, Mr. Amos’s age has finally caught up with him, at least mentally, and the anguish of his perfect memory and knowledge of the past has caused him to become closed-off, lowering team morale.
Make no mistake. I may be the de facto leader of this little ragtag group of freaks, but Mr. Amos is the heart.
PSYCHOLOGICAL DIAGNOSES AND PERSONALITY TRAITS:
Mr. Amos has a severe case of survivor’s guilt, as well as imposter syndrome, though his feelings of fraudulence appear to be completely unfounded as the man has been nothing but forthcoming.
As of Mr. Amos’s deployment to Vietnam and his subsequent return home, routine psychological evaluations seemed to indicate development of post-traumatic stress disorder and late-onset dissasociative identity disorder, if there truly is such a thing as late-onset DID. It is more likely that the giant has been battling with this disorder his entire life, and the harsh conditions and psychological trauma suffered while in Vietnam simply made him unable to mask his suffering anymore. I cannot imagine what it must be like to suffer for over 4,000 years in silence. The man has been suffering from survivor’s guilt for over 2,000 years as well, indicating that whatever happened to his tribe, it happened long before Europeans ever made contact with the Americas.
Mr. Amos seems to have an intense fear of death, as if the concept never occurred to him before.
Behind a deeply troubled man lies a heart almost as massive as he is. No, not literally. That would be biologically impossible. As Dr. Fero previously stated, Mr. Amos is certainly the most beloved member of his team... by his fellow squadmates, at least. I have nothing against Mr. Amos, do not get me wrong. However, the also aforementioned treatment of Mr. Amos by my fellow humans does not make me eager to approach him and inevitably cause more pain.
Mr. Amos is a deeply spiritual man, and seems to be in tune with nature. He is all-loving, and this attitude seems to endear him to everyone, especially the mostly prickly Agent Shrub. Yes, that was a pun, and no, I will not tell you why. I suppose you’ll find out once we get to Agent Shrub’s profile.
Even despite his fear of humans, Mr. Amos has made efforts to understand us - something that I cannot say my colleagues have done. Mr. Amos is a skilled baker and farmhand, and his skill levels equal those of one with PhDs in horticulturalism, herbalism, agriculturalism, animal behavior, science, and even culinary arts. I cannot describe the cakes he makes, for they are filled with something that we humans cannot even grasp. When we say something is made with “love”, I’m not sure we even know what “love” is. When I first tasted some of Mr. Amos’s pastries, I cried. Everyone always does. It tastes divine. It reminds me of... well, I shouldn’t get into details of my own life.
Mr. Amos has shown signs of a crippling loneliness and every time I look at him I want to help. I know I cannot, but when I catch glimpses of his eyes I see a man in need of love.
Note: The rest of the lines have been scribbled out, crossed out, drowned in white-out, and are evidently too embarrassing for Doctor [REDACTED] to repeat.
BACKGROUND:
Hello, all. I will try to keep this short.
My name is incomprehensible in the human tongue, and so I go by Amos. I once had a first and middle name, but the shame of losing my tribe has caused me to discard them.
I couldn’t protect them, and I cannot protect the ones I care about. I will not lie to you and pretend that I read Carter or Yvette’s analyses of me. I will instead tell you the plain, hard facts of my life.
I was born to a loving mother named Viktoria, and a just-as-loving father named Isaac. For a while, life was happy. Giants of my type generally live longer than humans can comprehend; death by old age would not happen until thousands of civilizations would rise and fall. I did not have to worry about mortality. Even when I died, I knew the Gods would reincarnate me as something infinitely more beautiful, such as a gust of wind, or a bird, or a flower. Such is life.
Our clan was exempt from most of the horrors that other giants faced; there was no such thing as war for us. There was no shortage of supplies, no shortage of responsibilities or things to do. We were shepherds. Farmers, bakers, herbalists, apothecaries, we were the providers, the caretakers of this world. Epimetheus’s favored tribe, we carried on long after he and Prometheus were punished for their hubris.
Our clan cared for all the sacred, exotic animals of the different pantheons, but chief amongst them were the Greeks. Athena’s owls, Poseidon’s stallions, Dionysus’s leopards... the most important were Apollo’s sacred cattle. For a while we were happy. Good at our jobs.
And perhaps if that peace had lasted, you would not be hearing from me.
When humans first came to the continent, we welcomed them with open arms. They were kind and kept to themselves; they held much of the same views about land as we did. Unfortunately, humans carry so many viral diseases that they even poison each other accidentally. It was no surprise, then, that left and right giants started to come down with what was only called “the pestilence”. With fewer farmers to tend to the vast fields, to take care of the animals, our crops and livestock dwindled. Panic and mass hysteria set in. Some giants left to try to feast on the very humans that had brought this plague -- but that in and of itself is against the nature of giants. Hatred is not in our veins. We do not resent mankind for bringing sickness. It is simply the will of the Gods.
And so those who feasted on human flesh were stripped of their clan names and their rights, marked as monsters.
But the pestilence and famine continued, and finally death came to us. In Christian mythos, there is a fourth horseman, and if you know who he is, then you should be able to predict what came next.
War. Infighting broke out amongst us. I was hardly a child; 2000 years old. My parents, who should have lived for tens of thousands of years more, were cut down in the blink of an eye. So enraged and desperate where we, so powerful was the cursed horseman’s influence, that we made weapons that should not have been able to kill us, and yet did -- through the power of hatred or through ingenuity, I do not know. What I do remember was seeing my former clansmen feasting on the remains of my parents. Once again they had turned to the unthinkable, the horrible, in order to survive this horrible time.
When the war was over, thankfully the winning side were not the cannibals. The cannibals were not only marked as monsters, but it was decided that they should be executed as well. So disgusting and long-lasting were War’s repugnant effects that once we learned how to kill each other, we still used it. They were killed. It was the will of the Gods.
With our quelled numbers, it was theorized that surely we should be able to survive on the food now, yes? No.
Giants still starved. Babies passed due to the pestilence. And we still killed one another.
Eventually my more weak-willed kin gave up hope. Truly there WAS no way of the Gods. They had abandoned us.
And once the Gods abandoned us, why should we keep ourselves from taking what was no longer sacred, but instead sustenance?
I watched in horror and fear as the four horsemen left before my very eyes. With each bloodied hand that dug into a bull or cow, I could feel the gentle warmth of the sun turn to a blistering fire.
Before my very eyes, the four horsemen were replaced by one angry God.
Apollo vaporized my tribe. I was the only one not to eat the cattle. No, I had instead prayed every day to Apollo as I lovingly tended to his remaining cows.
And for this, he spared me.
The rest is all relative.
Learn from my mistakes. Please.
Do not lose faith.
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The Raven shows herself once more
I was tagged by the lovely @namj00nsweetie . Thank you for doing so and let’s get cracking!
1. Are you named after someone?
No, my name has just been popular for the last few decades.
2. When was the last time you cried?
A few months back, felt personally attacked.
3. Do you have kids?
No, nor have I any plans o’ gettin’ them.
4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Me? Never... this is Pure Barry.
5. What’s the first thing you notice about people?
Their looks and attitude. Kinda shallow, I know, but those are the first things I always notice while heavily trying to evade making eye contact.
6. What’s the colour of your eyes?
A mix between bronze and moss-green, seems to change from time to time.
7. Scary movie or happy ending?
Scary movie with a happy ending? Is that an option? Otherwise, only the latter.
8. Any special talents?
Not that I know of aside from easily adapting accents, making my spoken English all over the place. Other than that, I’d say writing stories and poems. Occasionally making people cry with them.
9. Where were you born?
Utrecht, The Netherlands (YES, THERE IS MORE THAN AMSTERDAM!)
10. What are your hobbies?
Writing, reading, travelling, listening to music, going to the gym (need to get that daily workout in).
11. Do you have any pets?
Two cats, a lad and a lass: Hajo & Rhonda.
12. What sports do you play/ have you played?
I did six years o’ dancing, four of them street dance. Three years of badminton and I am currently going to the gym on a daily basis.
13. How tall are you?
162 cm, which is roughly 5 feet 3 I believe. We don’t have the American metric system o’er ‘ere.
14. Favourite subject in school?
In high school it was English. However, now that I’m in university for English Language & Culture, the literary courses are way more preferable over linguistics.
15. Dream job?
Author, since I am a storyteller first and foremost. I am working on it as much as I can, certainly after already having been published once. Time to go big.
16. What are you grateful for?
The opportunities I have to see the world and the friends I’ve made along the way, those who see past the professional, thus discovering the dorky student and book lover who is really chaotic and shy.
As for I tag: Anyone who wants to do this (cheap cheat, but I don’t really like tagging people because it makes me feel like I bother them).
#personal#tagged#tag#get to know me#get to know the blogger#get to know the writer#Get to know The Raven
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Okami
never played | want to play | terrible | boring | okay | good | great | a favorite
A joy for the eyes and for the heart. This is one of those games that are fun to play and simply look at, thanks to the gorgeous stylistic direction, and the gameplay’s not bad at all either - it takes some pages out of Zelda’s book, with the emphasis it puts on exploration and interaction with rich environments and interesting puzzles, but the combat is definitely more action-focused and lends itself to some chaotic spectacles. Also, you can Izuna Drop mooks while playing as a magical wolf deity, and if that doesn’t spell cool for you, I don’t know what could possibly could. The Brush System, while tricky to work with at times, is nonetheless a genius idea, as it turns an aesthetic choice into an actual gameplay feature. The elements in Okami blend together so well it’ll always be leaving you wanting for more once you’ve turned your console off.
The setting is extremely quirky and appropriately colorful, which makes it enjoyable by young and old audiences alike. If you’re a literature/myth buff, you’ll love the metric ton of references scattered all about, from the most recognizable like the Sun Goddess Amaterasu to the relatively obscure (outside Japan, that is; in its home country, it is a revered masterpiece) Eight Dog Warriors of the Satomi Clan.
Play Okami, or watch a playthrough: either way, this is one game that everyone should experience at least once.
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October 2017. Age 25. Journal Entry.
Tuesday, October 10th, 2017
“The fact that I'm having a hard time sitting down to write about what makes me happy is itself indicative of what makes me happy. I have this desire to extend my inner happiness into the physical world in an attempt to create an unchanging and unlimited source of happiness. This is impossible, but I incessantly try anyways.
As I make more money, try to stay into excellent shape, constantly move from place to place and change jobs, sleep with random girls, it's all an attempt to create a source of happiness from outside of myself.
I don't like the idea of finding happiness only from within, because the human brain simply doesn't work that way. If we’re living in miserable conditions, our bodies are hardwired to want to be in a different state. If we’re too cold or too hot, we strive to reach a temperature that is comfortable. Our biology simply doesn’t allow such fine tuned machines to work under too extreme of conditions. If we’re hungry, our stomachs will hurt and we will become irritable. As the phrase goes, “society is only three square meals away from anarchy”. This states that we are human animals whether we like it or not, and we must conform in some way to society in order to create livable conditions for ourselves.
The capitalist society that we live in creates desire; which I find inherently dangerous. However, we as humans will always have a strong sense of desire for things that can advance our genes because it’s necessary for our survival. When our primate ancestors saw a fertile mate, or a companion with a piece of fruit in their hand, you can bet that they had a strong desire for what they saw, or else they didn’t survive.
In our modern age, we still have a desire for what we see, that’s why capitalism is still works. Except we don’t beat our friends over the head for their apple, we just think about wanting it then probably go buy our own later. Even though we don’t act immediately on our desires as much any more, the desires remain as we are still human animals. We are imperfect beings, in realizing this, we have learned about our biology and instincts and have exploited them via capitalism through incessant consumerism and gearing our marketing toward our biological needs that sometimes we don’t even realize are there. Commercials play our emotions, we use bright colored signs, we give free samples in stores to stimulate our appetite to make us want to buy more food.
So instead of turning away completely from capitalism and shaking your fist at the CEO’s of the world, I say we embrace it with a healthy dose of skepticism. Emphasis on the term healthy. Allowing ourselves to feel our feelings and act on our needs and desires is not only healthy, it's necessary. Our goal should be to find a way to release our urges and act as our bodies want to act while at the same time, living in line with capitalism to the point that we have financial freedom.
People aren’t evil, excessive capitalism is evil.
Capitalism facilitates hyperbolized human tendencies which quickly turn into what we consider the 7 Deadly Sins. When you have the opportunity to make $500,000 a year, it’s really hard to say no to that, even if you’re cognizant that the wage could feed 15 less fortunate families but you’re going to use it to go on exotic vacations. Greed happens not because humans are evil, but because capitalism allows it.
Those less fortunate families would more likely than not fall victim to the same faults and hoard money if given the opportunity.
Again, capitalism as a system isn’t inherently evil. It is an imperfect means of societal progression which leads to the exploitation the primal urges of us imperfect humans.
Once we get to the point that we can make enough money to live the life we want to live within capitalism (since cash is king and a near sure fire way to create the objective life we want), we can then attempt to feel true freedom and feel the feelings we have, acting as true and authentic beings. As Maslow’s hierarchy of needs dictates, we must take care of our basic needs that we as humans need, then our goals above that are subjective, i.e. self actualization and who we want to associate with.
You need food water shelter to make yourself happy. This is because you’re a biological organism, therein requiring certain objective fuel sources. But once this has been settled, we can achieve happiness in any way our cerebral cortices deem fit. You need a certain level of happiness within before externalities can make you happy. You need an edifice to build on top of. If you’re starving in a giant beautiful house, you can’t appreciate the house. If you have a million dollars but you’re homeless, that money is good for nothing. If you didn’t sleep last night, it doesn’t matter how many people are around you that you love; all you want to do is sleep. Thus, we must care for our human needs and urges before we can approach the next level of validation. The top level of validation is human actualization.
Everyone is somewhere along the capitalism acceptance scale. Some are fully within the throes of a capitalist lifestyle of earning and spending, creating unneeded waste in order to fulfill their shallow desires. Others do only what they need to do to care for themselves, then they choose to ignore the chasing of money for the rest of their available time for it does not appeal to them; they have different metrics for satisfaction. Say John makes $100,000 a year but really only needs $30,000 to live the lifestyle that makes him happy, so he does so. However, Don also makes $100,000 but digs himself into crippling debt by living a life of opulence outside of his means. They make the same amount of money, yet John is likely to be much happier because he lives within his means. His lifestyle doesn’t require the spending of more money than he has, putting himself in debt to others, yet he’s happier.
I can see the hierarchy at play in the moment to moment in myself as I can allow my mind to wonder pleasantly insofar as I'm with others, waiting for something, or getting something done. I'd much rather sit in a coffee shop and allow my mind to wander and write if I'm with someone I know, satisfying the social need immediately before allowing myself to self actualize. Writing for me is an act that leads to self actualization, yet I have a fear of writing if writing is all I’m doing. I feel like I’m missing something, like I should be doing something else, like I don’t deserve to be sitting here and just writing. I know that I deserve the capability to write whenever and however much I want, yet my fear of being alone outweighs my desire to write. Thus, I tend to write only when something else is happening that validates myself in the present.
If I am teaching a class and I have 20 minutes of down time, I feel comfortable writing.
If I’m waiting for a friend to show up somewhere, I feel comfortable writing.
If I’m on a plane and have no where to go, I feel comfortable writing.
If I’m sitting in the living room with my significant other, her working, I feel comfortable writing.
It’s a belief that writing should be on the back burner, something to fill time, no matter how meaningful it may be or how much it leads to satisfaction when I have a finished a piece.
I thrive on chaos. Insofar as the chaos isn’t stress inducing, so I guess I could say that I thrive on having a lot of things going on all at once, because the more going on, the less I’m thinking about myself and more about the world around me.
When I’m by myself, I start over thinking. A thought goes into a spider web of this then this and maybe that, but also that and if this and this makes that then it also creates this and that and maybe these too! Thoughts don’t stop when alone, but quickly and consistently reacting to a chaotic environment is the antidote. Having to respond to my environment puts the thoughts on the back burner. I’m not worried about whether I could be doing better, whether that guy is making more money than me, whether I could be doing something better with my life. I think this applies to an extreme many of facets of life, in that the less you think about things, the happier you are. Ignorance in bliss, and if I’m busy with something all day and allocating all of my mental resources towards that, I don’t have time to worry. A busy person is usually a happy person.
Occupying your mind with anything that isn't negative is ideal. It's better to piss away your time with simple happiness than to have worry over take you. I’m better off delivering pizzas, a seemingly simple task, rather than worrying about myself.
General sadness isn't necessarily what we’re trying to avoid. Because when we think of being sad, at least I tend to have a grossly oversimplified idea of what it is, without really objectifying it. What we’re trying to actually avoid is bad decisions, which are predated typically by worry, fear, anxiety, or melancholy. When we’re in fear, anxious, or upset, we make poor decisions. We regress, or overeat, or drink too much, or don’t aim for anything positive. Thus, having simple yet positive tasks to occupy our time is better than engaging in negative activities like watching TV, over eating, playing video games, or doing drugs.
Looking back at our ancestors; their primitive lifestyle and what they needed to do to survive, it makes sense to somewhat mimic that in our own lives. Create our own quests and whatnot. They didn’t have time to be worried or anxious about the unknown, because they were preoccupied with the task at hand, which in essence was always working towards something.
In addition to the actions that we take, we must always take into consideration the inaction that is just as important. This is manifested in the act of selective ignorance. We can experience a lack of motivation due to the sheer amount of pain in the world, or all of the things that we know we’ll never be able to overcome or accomplish or change. We must ignore it, selectively of course, so as to not pass that threshold of ignorance to a fault. I could spend all day ruminating on the lack of food in 3rd world countries, or the evil disproportion of wealth in capitalist countries, or that fact that I’m crummy at understanding computer code, but what’s the point? How will that assist the human? It won’t, unless it is acted upon in a positive way to solve the problem.
I once read about a man who made a lot of money at a very young age. It was a combination of luck and skill. I was jealous of him. What did he have that I didn’t? Why him? Why me? Then I found out he died. That's all of our ends. I immediately felt more fortunate than him, because I live in this moment. I have what he doesn’t. It’s a manifestation of my primal urges to have what others don’t, to be the leader, to be the alpha. I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do.
Anger is often manifested as putting too much emotional stock in others. Any time I’m angry, I can almost always relate it to someone else’s actions, or the fact that I’m upset that I’m not as good as someone else. Thus I’m putting to much emotional stock in others.
That’s all for now.
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